tortillamastersblog

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date was so adorable!!! 🥹 They both deserve all the fluff and love. Gotta love it when Sam is a tease haha

I hope you’re doing good and enjoy the rest of your weekend!

-🐨

Thank youuu! They really do, they’ve been through a lot 🥹

Yess haha she’s such a tease.

I’m doing great, hope you are too. Have a great Sunday!

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)

Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.

"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.

"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."

I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.

"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.

She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."

"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.

Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it. 

Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.

They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.

Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.

"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.

"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.

I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.

The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.

It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.

I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.

I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well. 

“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me. 

“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.

“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.

“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”

I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”

When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. 

“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.  

“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view. 

And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Sam.

I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her. 

Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.

I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.

“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”

I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”

Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”

She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood? 

Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.

Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes. 

“You two are so cute, I love it.”  Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.

“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.

“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!” 

Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”

“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”

My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off. 

It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.

I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.

So far, so good, I think. 

“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light. 

I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”

“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout. 

I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly.  “Mhmm.”

The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.

Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music . 

Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.

“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in. 

Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.

Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts. 

“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.

“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience. 

“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.

She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”

Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows. 

“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.

“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly. 

After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.

I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.

I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”

She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”

I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile  and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”

Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”

That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.

While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.

A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.

“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”

Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.

I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.

This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.

“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.

Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes. 

She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.

It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up. 

I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.

“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”

I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about  a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.

Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.

We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.

In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate. 

After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.

“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”

I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.

It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat. 

For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.

“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.

“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.

Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.

I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.

She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.

She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.

The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.

“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.

I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.

“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.

It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom. 

As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.

My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.

Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath. 

Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.

It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.

I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”

“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”

A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”

Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”

Goddamn.

I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.

I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.

The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.

“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.  

Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe. 

“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.

“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.

The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom. 

_______________________________________________

And they lived happily ever after!

Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy

[tortillamastersblog]

Hiya! ❤️

I’m not writing at the moment because I need a break after Back To You, buuuuttt I was wondering what you guys would want me to work on/upload next, sooo. . .

[tortillamastersblog]

Ahhh can’t believe Back To You is over!! I’m glad Liam hasn’t lost his sense of humour 😂 and everyone is fine in the end. Thoroughly enjoyed the fluff/comfort between reader and Sam

Thank YOU for sharing your work with us! I’m excited to read your future one shots of Sam and reader and other stories you’ll be sharing!! In the meantime, you can get your well earned rest now ❤️ and I’ll be rereading your work

-🐨

Hi buddy,

yes it’s over!! I haven’t wrapped my head around it either yet hahahahha

Liam’s the best! Even though he was just a side character, he was one of my favorites to write. ❤️

Yes, the fluff/comfort was definitely necessary after everything that’s happened 🥹

You’re very welcome 🫶🏼🫶🏼 I’m happy you like my writing! I honestly just write what my overly active brain comes up with.

I’ll definitely rest now ❤️

Happy reading!

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Epilogue | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Sam is back for good and Ghostface is gone. Now the two of you just have to deal with the aftermath of what happened. . .

Previous Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

A fleeting touch on my hand makes my eyes flutter open. It’s bright and even though it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the light, I know from the smell of hand sanitizer and the sound of a heartbeat monitor next to my head that I’m in the hospital.

“Hey. . .” A soft voice to my right makes me want to turn my head, but unlike back at the theater I can’t even do that anymore.

My chest tightens at the thought over never being able to move again, but then Sam’s face appears above me, a soft look on her face despite the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hi,” I say, my voice barely even a whisper.

She’s here. She’s actually here.

Six years ago I was in this exact same situation, but back then I was alone.

I was alone and my parents had just died, but now no one else is dead and she’s here.

“H-How are you feeling?” she asks, touching my cheek and taking a seat on the bed next to me.

I’m not in any pain, but I can’t move and I feel like I could sleep a thousand years.

“I dunno,” I answer honestly despite the tears suddenly welling up in my eyes. “I’m— I don’t. . . I can’t move. My head. . .”

“Your head? What about your head?” She furrows her eyebrows and brushes a strand of hair off my forehead.

“I can’t move my head,” I say, my voice breaking. A tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek, but Sam is quick to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb.

“Well, yeah,” she say. “You’re wearing a neck brace.”

I blink and swallow, only now realizing she’s right. I am wearing a neck brace. I can feel it pressing against the underside of my chin and into my shoulders.

“I—“ don’t know what to say. But luckily I don’t have to say anything because Sam shifts closer, bumping against my hip before bending down and brushing her lips against my forehead in a fleeting kiss.

“You. . . broke your back, but the doctor said the surgery went well and if everything goes as planned, you should make a full recovery,” she says with a watery smile.

“What?”

“You’ll be okay.” She takes my hand and laces our fingers together and I can’t stop a sob from escaping me when I realize I can feel it.

It dawns on me that I already felt her touching my hand when I woke up and that I felt it when she bumped against my hip.

I can feel it all, which means I can probably also move.

I hold my breath and focus on our intertwined hands before closing my fingers around hers. It works, and even though I have to concentrate a lot to do it, it works. I can also wiggle my toes ever so slightly which makes me close my eyes as unimaginable relief washes over me.

“The doctors say you have a long recovery ahead of you, but you’ve done it before and I’ll be by your side every single step of the way. . . Literally,” she says and I can’t help but smile and open my eyes again despite the tears now freely streaming down my face.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Sam shakes her head and rests her forehead against mine. “Don’t thank me you idiot. It’s the least I can do.”

I scoff playfully. “Who are you calling an idiot? I saved your life.”

“You’re right,” she smiles and I manage to brush a tear off her cheek, “I’m sorry, My Love.”

I smile, too, and trace the edge of her jaw with my finger, making her shudder. “Mmm-hmm that’s better.”

When she dips her head and kisses me carefully, I’m not at all surprised, and I kiss her back with my heart fluttering in my chest, but then she pulls back with a weird look on her face.

Her lips are pressed into a thin line and there’s a familiar crinkle between her eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Is it Liam? Or Gale?”

She shakes her head and exhales shakily, her breath hitting my cheek. “No, no. They’re both fine. They’re both out of surgery. Anika and Kirby are okay, too.”

I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to go on.

“It’s— Your back. . . The doctors said—“

The door flies open, making me look up as Sam whirls around.

“You’re awake!” Tara exclaims, and the sight of her in the doorway makes me smile.

“Hey, Sprout.”

Her face breaks into a smile and she rushes to my side, grabbing my left hand while Sam slides off the bed and takes a seat on the chair next to the bed without letting go of my right hand.

By the strained smile on her face I can tell that she’s upset that we were interrupted, but she doesn’t seem ready to say what she was going to say with Tara in the room, so she stays quiet while Tara asks me how I’m feeling.

“I’m okay,” I reassure her.

“You sure?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not in pain?”

I chuckle softly and squeeze her jittery hand. “I’m sure. I’m on some pretty hardcore drugs.”

That makes her smile turn into a grin and out of the corner of my eye I can even see Sam’s lips twitch ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I bet. Man, I was so high last year when they gave me painkillers. . . Are you high? Oh you’re probably so high right now, I’m jealous,” she rambles, making me roll my eyes.

“I’m not high,” I argue playfully, “I’m just tired. I think the kind of drugs you got were different than what I’m getting right now.”

“Ah, that’s a bummer.” She pouts but shrugs and it all happens so fast, Sam shoots her an incredulous look.

“Tara, what the—?”

“I’ve had like five coffees since we got here,” Tara cuts her off and I suppress a laugh when Sam’s eyes widen.

“Five?” she shrieks and Tara just shrugs again, her eyes darting back and forth between me and her sister.

Well, I guess that explains why she’s so hyper active.

“Where did you even get all that coffee?” Sam asks and I can’t help but smile at the way she sounds like a parent scolding their child. “The hospital’s cafeteria is closed.”

My eyes dart to the clock on the wall.

It’s seven in the morning.

Less than twelve hours ago we were at the theater. . .

I shudder at the memory and force it to the back of my mind and focus back on Tara who takes a seat on the edge of my bed, swinging one of her legs back and forth. She’s still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, but she seems to have cleaned herself up somewhat since getting here because her hair is pulled into a ponytail that matches Sam’s and there’s no more smudged mascara under her eyes.

“There’s a vending machine in the hallway,” she explains, her hand squeezing mine absentmindedly. “And Paige and Jackson brought coffees for everyone when they got here.”

Wait, what? Jackson’s here?

I knew that Paige was coming, but I didn’t know he was coming, too. How did he even get here? Did he drive? No, probably not. I’m sure after he found out what happened he managed to convince Paige to pick him up in Boston on her way here.

Sam scowls, unimpressed by Tara’s caffeine intake, but before she can scold her for it, the door cracks open.

Ah, speak of the devil. . .

Paige and Jackson peek into the room and when they see that I’m awake, they step into the room completely.

“You’re awake,” Jackson notes with a small smile, his eyes flickering to Sam’s hand in mine before adding, “And I see that the girlfriend finally knows that she is the girlfriend,” he teases which makes me blush furiously.

“Shut up,” I hiss, ignoring the way Sam is looking back and forth between us with raised eyebrows and pink cheeks.

Jackson just laughs and high fives Tara before dragging an empty chair to the side of my bed and plopping down on it.

“Yeah, shut up, Jack,” Paige says playfully, coming to my defense with a knowing look before turning serious and taking a seat on the end of my bed.

Boy, this room is really getting crowded.

“You know, I’m getting sick of visiting you in the hospital all the time,” she says with a frown.

I cringe and tighten my hold on Sam’s hand. “I know. . .”

“Do you though?” she asks with a pained expression. She places a hand on my leg and squeezes it through the thin blanket. “You keep on almost dying, and it’s stressing me the fuck out. I swear, I’m aging prematurely because of you.“

I want to laugh at that, but I know she’s being serious, so I don’t. “I’m sorry,” I say honestly. I want to sit up and give her a hug, but I’m still too weak to do that and the neck brace would just be getting in the way. “I promise, I’m not doing it on purpose.”

Paige smiles sadly and gives my leg another squeeze. “I know, but it still sucks every time I get a call that you’ve been hurt again, and now Liam, he—“

“How is he?” I cut her off quietly.

Silence settles around us for a moment, and Paige averts her eyes when she finally says, “He’s awake, and in good spirits, but he lost two fingers fighting off Ghostface and he has a pretty big scar on his face. Almost lost an eye, too.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod absentmindedly, taking all the information in.

He lost two fingers and he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life. . .

How brutal was that attack? And how did Quinn even know about him? How did she find him?

It must have been she who did it because Bailey and Ethan were accounted for when the attack happened.

“It was Quinn, right? Bailey’s daughter?” I ask and to my surprise, Tara’s the one who says yes.

“The police went through her phone and found messages she sent to Bailey on the night of the first attack,” she explains, her leg still swinging back and forth. “She said she’d overheard you talking to someone named Liam while Sam was on the phone with Bailey and that it would be a good idea for Bailey to find out who he is and target him.“

“B-But, why?”

This time, Paige answers.

“They wanted to hurt someone close to you so you would be too preoccupied to help Sam and Tara,” she explains and the thought that Liam was used as a pawn in their twisted game makes me feel sick.

I chuckle mirthlessly and close my eyes momentarily. “Jokes on them, that didn’t work. I still helped Sam and Tara.”

Everyone hums in agreement, and a tense silence settles around the room until Jackson straightens up in his chair with a smile playing on his lips.

“Liam might have lost two of his fingers, but do you know what he said when we went into his room and saw him for the first time?”

I want to shake my head, but because of the neck brace I can’t, so I say, “No, what did he say?”

Paige and Jackson share an amused look before Jackson answers.

“He said, at least I can still do this.” He raises his hand and flips me off with a grin and I can’t help but smile and scoff playfully.

“Of course he did.”

Everyone laughs, and the mood lightens a little.

Who else but Liam would joke about almost being murdered, right after almost being murdered?

I glance at Sam to find her already looking at me with a fond look in her eyes and smile shyly.

She’s here, and she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

Bailey is dead, and so are Quinn and Ethan.

They’re revenge plan didn’t work out after all, and I’m sure the media has already covered everything that happened last night, finally clearing Sam’s name once and for all and sending an indirect message to everyone out there who thinks they can fuck with us—no matter what anyone tries, we’ll always come out on top.

I have yet to see Mindy, Anika, Chad, Gale and Liam, but I know they’re fine and that’s all I need to know right now.

“Sammy?” I ask tentatively, touching her hand.

She’s once again sitting on the bed next to me, but this time her head is resting on my shoulder and it seems like she’s fallen asleep because for the last ten minuet she hasn’t moved or said anything.

I can’t imagine the position she’s in is very comfortable because her legs are dangling off the side of the bed, but she hasn’t complained about it yet, so it must not be as uncomfortable as it looks.

Tara, Paige and Jackson left a while ago to go out and find some breakfast, leaving us alone once again.

It’s peaceful and quiet, but I still want to know what she wanted to say right before Tara came in.

“Yeah?” she whispers, confirming that she has not yet fallen asleep.

I intertwine out fingers and run my thumb over the back of her hand. “What were you going to say before Tara came in?”

“Oh. . . Uh.” She sits up slowly and looks at me with sad eyes, her free hand coming up to rest on my chest. “The doctors— They—They said. . .”

I squeeze her hand. “They said. . .?”

She sighs and averts her eyes for a second. “They said after this surgery, your spine is pretty fragile. Yes, they put in screws and rods and stuff, but another bad hit could paralyze you permanently,” she whispers and I instantly know what she’s trying to say without actually saying it.

No more hockey. . .

I bite the inside of my cheek before tugging on her fingers to get her to look at me again.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly.

“What— No, it’s not. Hockey is your whole life and you worked so hard to get to where you are right now and—“

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut her off gently. I let go of her hand and trace a finger over her eyebrow and down the side of her face. She leans into the touch, and her eyes soften, but it looks like she’s about to protest again, so I go on. “I knew I wouldn’t be playing hockey forever. That’s why I got a masters degree. It’s okay, really. I’m alive, and I’m not paralyzed. That’s all that matters.”

Her eyes search mine for any doubts, and when she doesn’t find any, she gives in with a small nod and a sad smile. “Okay. . .”

“Besides,” I say lightheartedly, “I kind of already have a new job, if Liam is to be believed.”

“What?” Amusement and disbelief flashes across her face and I can’t help but laugh and tap her on the nose.

“When I called to warn him about Ghostface he said something about his boss wanting to hire me and how he already gave him my resume,” I explain which makes her laugh as well and rest her head back on my shoulder.

“Unbelievable,” she mumbles when our laughter dies down.

I hum in agreement and start running my thumb over the back of her hand again.

After a while, I’m pretty sure she’s finally fallen asleep so I close my eyes as well, intending on getting some rest as well, but then she speaks up quietly.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I open my eyes and lift our intertwined hands up so I can press a kiss to her knuckles.

“I love you, too,” I whisper, getting lost in her dark eyes when she looks up at me through her lashes.

“What if— what if he comes for us again?” she whispers. “Ghostface, I mean. . .”

I grit my teeth and level her with a determined look. “We fuck him up,” I say and after a moment Sam nods, determination shining in her own eyes.

“We fuck him up. . .” she repeats quietly before letting her head drop back down on my shoulder.

_______________________________________________

And that’s a wrap, everyone!

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

All your comments meant/mean the world to me and kept/keep me motivated.

Hope you all have a wonderful week!

Love,

Soph ❤️

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[tortillamastersblog]

Read A/N at the end of part16, hides pitchfork and torchlight 😂 You’ve got reader breaking their back (and falling for Sam) figuratively and literally hahaha. It’s okay, reader has Sam to look after them now and all the fluff/comfort that comes after. Also their plan went out the window in the first few second 😂

Thank you for writing this part so quickly! I’m excited for the last part but go get your well deserved rest ❤️

-🐨

Not the pitchforks jahahahhahahah

Literally yeah 🥴 but it’s like you said, there’s a bunch of fluff and comfort coming our way now 💕

It did! But it was foreseeable, I mean, what did they think was going to happen??

You’re welcome ❤️❤️ I will scale things back a little, but I won’t rest until I’ve written the final part 🤞

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 16 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

A/N: Fair warning there might be a couple of typos and shit in this part because I’m too tired to proofread properly

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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The door of the theater falls shut behind us with a loud bang and I can’t stop myself from flinching ever so slightly.

Sam squeezes my hand and I squeeze back, letting my eyes roam around the room.

Nothing’s changed since the last time we were here and I cringe once again at the sight of the mannequins on the stage dressed in the old Ghostface cloaks.

It’s eerily quiet, but the knowledge that backup is ready to jump in and help us when Kirby gives them a signal brings me some sense of peace.

When Sam and I came out of the bathroom earlier Bailey had left to go to the station which gave me the chance to pull Kirby aside and tell her about what we figured out while Sam distracted the others, especially Ethan who kept looking at me with his big doe eyes.

She believed me instantly and we quickly came to the conclusion that in order to end this we either have to kill Bailey, Quinn, and Ethan, or get a confession out of them, so they go to prison for the rest of their lives.

I opted for the latter because I’m sick of people dying, but we agreed that should anything go wrong, we will kill them.

We also agreed that the less people are involved the better, so Kirby called the hospital Anika is at and convinced them to call Mindy in Anika’s name, saying she wanted to see her girlfriend.

We tried to come up with a plan to get Chad out of the way as well, but nothing came to mind, which is why he’s here with us now.

Danny’s also here, but we left him outside under the guise of needing someone to call for help in case something goes wrong.

He doesn’t know that the FBI is already stationed nearby, waiting to be called in by Kirby.

Sam, Kirby, and I are the only ones who know and even though I wanted to tell Tara and Chad, I never got the chance because we were never alone.

At first, Danny and Ethan were with us, and then it was just Danny because I managed to prevent Ethan from getting on the same subway as us by shoving a stranger in his way.

I’m sure he’ll be here soon though, just like Bailey who’s in on the “plan”.

We told him we wanted to trap Ghostface and execute him which he immediately agreed to since he doesn’t know we know about him yet.

He was super supportive and even told us to use public transport to avoid getting targeted, and if I didn’t know better I would have actually believed that he was concerned.

I still don’t know why he, Quinn, and Ethan are doing all this, but I guess we’ll find out sooner.

“I cleared the whole place before you got here,” Kirby says, turning to face us. “This—“ she nods her head at the door we just came in through, “—is the only way in or out.”

“What about weapons?” Sam asks, her hand still in mine.

Tara is holding onto Chad’s arm, nodding along to what Sam just asked.

“One gun and I hold onto it,” Kirby lies. She slipped me a knife earlier when I told her about what we found out.

It’s tucked into the waistband of my pants, hidden by my sweater, and not even Sam knows about it.

I know right now would probably be a good time to come clean and tell Chad and Tara everything we know (and tell Sam about the knife), but we can’t be sure that this place isn’t bugged.

“I’m the only one with a badge, so that’s the way it’s going to be,” Kirby says when the others look at her in disbelief. “We’re safe here,” she adds and even though I know the FBI is on standby outside, I’m still not entirely convinced. There’s three Ghostfaces and four of us, and they’re all armed.

This is going to be fun. . .

I wish we’d had more time to plan, because this is all super reckless, but we can’t risk someone else getting hurt, so it will have to do.

The others look skeptical, too, but no one voices their concerns and a moment later Sam’s phone rings. She disconnects our hands and pulls it out of her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees that it’s Mindy who’s calling her.

She glances at me and I dip my chin, wordlessly telling her to answer it.

“Mindy? Hey, you okay?” she says. She walks off in search of better reception and I let her be, turning to Chad and Tara who are eyeing the glass display cases with disgust while Kirby makes her own way through the theater, looking at everything with her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sprout. . . Chad,” I say quietly, approaching them. They turn with furrowed eyebrows and smile weakly when they see me.

“Y/N.” Chad exhales sharply and I squeeze his arm reassuringly.

“You guys okay?” I ask.

Tara shakes her head and hugs me while Chad grimaces. “Not really,” she whispers. “I’m scared.”

I sigh and hold her closer. “Yeah, me too.”

“Same. . .” Chad watches us with a forlorn look and I chuckle softly before pulling him into the hug as well.

“You’ll be okay. Both of you, I promise.” I press a kiss to the top of Tara’s head and nudge Chad.

They both shudder and tighten the hug before my phone rings and I’m forced to pull away.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I pull it out of my pocket, but then the sight of Paige’s name flashing across the screen makes me relax again.

It’s not Ghostface, Y/N. Calm down.

“Paige, hey. Everything okay? Are you in the city yet?”

Despite the situation, Paige laughs softly. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m not in the city yet, I still have two hours to go. I’m just calling to tell you that the hospital called.”

The tentative smile that pulled at my lips just a second ago vanishes and I tighten my grip on the phone. “A-and?”

“Lee’s still in surgery, but he’s stable.”

Tears prick at my eyes and I spin around to avoid Tara’s and Chad’s concerned looks. “Okay, that’s good. That’s really good.”

I swallow thickly to get rid of the growing lump in my throat and Paige sighs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, it is. . . so what about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but—“

The lights turn off and the call disconnects. A scream pierces through the silent theater and I whirl around.

Tara.

She and Chad seem to be unharmed, but they’re tripping over their feet, trying to get away from something, of rather, someone.

It’s hard to make out what’s happening in the dark, but even before a homemade Stab movie gets projected onto the white curtains that have been lowered in front of the stage, I know that Ghostface is here.

Baile, Ethan and Quinn are here, right now, and we didn’t see it coming.

How didn’t we know? There’s only one entrance and we would have heard them come in. Right?

But what if Kirby overlooked a different entrance? What if she didn’t search the place probably?

Speaking of Kirby, my blood runs cold when my eyes land on her. Her face is covered in blood, and it looks like her nose is broken, but what’s more important is the blood on her shirt from a stab wound in her stomach and the knife pressed against her neck by Ghostface, standing behind her.

Ethan or Quinn. . . Bailey is taller.

“Fuck.” I rush to pull Tara and Chad behind me, feeling anger rising in the pit of my stomach when Ghostface tilts his head mockingly.

This is not how this was supposed to go down. Kirby was supposed to stay hidden, she was supposed to observe and call for backup.

Movement out of the corner of my eye makes my heart skip a beat, but when I turn my head, there’s nothing there.

A second later though I feel a presence on my other side, and I whirl around, expecting another Ghostface, but it’s just Sam, wide-eyed and panting.

“They’re here,” she breathes, “They’re—“ she freezes when her eyes land on Kirby, “—Fuck.”

She grabs my arm, and together we shield Chad and Tara while Ghostface continues to watch us wordlessly.

Kirby is deathly still in his hold, despite the obvious pain she’s in because she knows that if she even attempts to reach for her gun or her radio, her throat will be slit.

Some blood is already trickling down her throat because of how hard Ghostface is pressing the knife against her skin, and I shiver, remembering how I was in that same position a year ago.

Every breath, every blink could be your last one, and it’s a horrifying experience.

This is definitely not how I thought this would go. Was I skeptical of our half-assed planned? Yes. Was I expecting it to go off the rails at some point? Also, yes, but I didn’t think shit would be hitting the fan this quickly.

Well, there’s no point in keeping my mouth shut any longer.

“Let her go, Ethan. She has nothing to do with this,” I say lowly. I know it’s him because Quinn is even shorter than her brother and she probably wouldn’t have had the strength to overwhelm Kirby.

Ghostface falters ever so slightly, obviously surprised that I know who’s under the mask, but he doesn’t move or say anything.

“What are you doing?” Tara hisses, tugging on the back of my sweater. “That’s not Ethan.”

Sam squeezes my arm, and I glance over my shoulder for a split second to meet Tara’s eyes. “Yes it is,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. “He’s behind all of this with Quinn and Bailey.”

“What?” Chad lets out a surprised gasp.

Someone starts clapping slowly behind us and we all whirl around to see Bailey standing there next to another Ghostface.

He’s smiling menacingly and claps one more time before exhaling dramatically. “I knew you’d figure it out. I mean, the way you looked at me at the police station after the bodega. . . I knew you knew something was up.”

I narrow my eyes, but stay quiet.

There’s no way to get a confession out of all of them now, at least not one we can use against them in court because Kirby was supposed to record everything, so we’re moving on to plan b.

Kill them. Kill all of them. Make them pay for what they’ve done to Liam, Gale, Anika, and Brooks, and for how they tired to frame Sam for what happened im Woodsboro.

“Also, Ethan saw you talking to Kirby, so I knew we had to do something sooner rather than later to make you pay.”

“Make us pay?” Sam asks indignantly. “For what?!”

The homemade Stab movie still playing in the background flickers eerily, casting weird shadows over everyone’s face, but especially Bailey’s when it tightens in anger.

He pulls out his gun and waves it around. “For killing my son!”

“Your son?” Tara snaps over my shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s right there.” I gesture at the Ghostface still pressing a knife to Kirby’s neck.

Bailey snorts and the Ghostface next to him takes off his mask.

Quinn.

I knew it, and so did Sam, but Chad and Tara suck in a breath behind me.

Ethan takes off his mask as well, somehow managing to do it without letting go of Kirby.

“Not him!” Quinn snaps with wild eyes before pointing her knife at Sam. “You killed—“

The curly hair, the thick eyebrows. . . E.K. Ethan Kirsch.

“Richie. . .” I say through clenched teeth.

Sam’s hand around my upper arm tightens. “You’re Richie’s family?!”

Tara and Chad shift uncomfortably, but they don’t say a word.

Of course they’re Richie’s family. How did I not see that coming?

They want revenge for what Sam did to him and they started it all by spreading rumors about her online, so when they kill her, kill us, people will just suspect some rando who took matters into his own hands after he found out Sam was the “real” Ghostface.

How fucked up is that. . .

I glance at Kirby while Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn catch the others up on what I just figured out, and nod subtly when her fingers graze against the pocket of her leather jacket.

The radio. . . We need to call for backup. We need to get out of here.

There has to be a second exit we don’t know about because how else would Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn have gotten into the theater unnoticed.

My call with page was disconnected, probably because Bailey turned on some kind of signal jammer, which could mean the radio is also useless, but getting my hands on it and trying to call for back up is worth a try anyway.

I mean, don’t radios and cell phones operate on different frequencies?

All thoughts of frequencies are quickly forgotten when Bailey steps forward and holds out a weathered Ghostface mask.

“This is your father’s, Sam,” he says. “Quinn’s got Stu Macher’s and Ethan has Nacy Loomis’s, your grandmother’s. . .”

“It really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it,” Ethan pipes up, and the way Sam’s breath hitches next to me makes me want to bash his head in.

This is exactly what she’s afraid of, being like them, and I just know it’s going to take a lot of therapy and a lot of pep talks to make her, once again, believe she really isn’t anything like them

Tara sniffles quietly, and I reach behind me to squeeze her hand when she holds onto the hem of my sweater.

“This is what we’ve been counting down to,” Bailey says, waving the mask around with the same crazy look in his eyes as Quinn. “I’m going to need you to put it on.”

Oh, hell no.

Sam breathes heavily, and for a split second I think she’s going to take it—she’s going to give them what they want after all, but then she lets go of my arm and smacks the mask out of Bailey’s hand.

“Fuck you!” she spits and her confidence fills me with so much pride that I don’t react fast enough when Quinn lunges forward, slicing Sam’s exposed upper arm with her knife.

She was wearing my zip up hoodie earlier, but it’s so hot in here she must have taken it off while on the phone with Mindy, leaving her in only her gray tank top.

Shit, Mindy. . . Why was she calling in the first place? Is she okay?

There’s no way to find out now, so I quickly pull Sam back against me, out of reach of Quinn while she presses a hand to the cut on her arm.

It’s only superficial, but it’s already bleeding pretty badly and it will definitely need stitches.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tara shouts, trying to step out from behind me, but Chad holds her back with an arm around her waist.

“You’re a killer, just like your father, Sam,” Bailey says, pointing an accusing finger at Sam and this time, unlike when Ethan opened his stupid mouth, I don’t hold back.

“No, she’s not you!” I snap, baring my teeth. With her free hand, Sam squeezes my arm around her middle, either to silently thank me for standing up for her or to get me to settle down.

“Yes, she is you motherfucker!” Quinn screams. “She killed Richie like the cold-blooded psycho that she is!”

That’s it!

I let go of Sam and rush forward to tackle Quinn, but Ethan is quick to react. He shoves Kirby aside and jumps in my way before I can get to his sister, stabbing me in the shoulder right below my collar bone—right below the scar on my neck where Amber stabbed me.

“Ah, you fucking little twig,” I exclaim, squaring my shoulders, ready to take him down instead when Sam pulls me back by the back of my sweater.

“No, run!” she shouts and I spin around, knowing she’s right.

Tara and Chad are already weaving through the glass cases, trying to get to the metal door we came in through and Sam and I follow them.

Quinn and Ethan are hot on our heels while Bailey shouts how he knew Sam had to die when he saw the pictures of what she did to Richie.

Everyone who had something to do with his death dies. . . Yeah, no thanks.

Amidst the chaos, the fact that we don’t have the key card to unlock the door dawns on me the moment we’re standing in front of it. Chad tries to pry it open, but it doesn’t budge and when Quinn and Ethan’s footsteps get louder behind us I exclaim, “Forget about it. We’re not getting out this way! There has to be another exit!”

“The roof!” Tara says. “I saw an exit sign leading to the roof behind the seats on the balcony overlooking the stage.”

The roof? Seriously? We’ll be trapped there, too, unless there’s a fire escape.

Anything’s better than this though, I think as Ethan and Quinn skirt around the corner.

“Okay, go left! There’s a staircase up to the balcony!” I shout and we start running again, abandoning the metal door, which could possibly still be our only way out.

Somewhere in the theater a shot gets fired, and I pray to God that Kirby is okay, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as we get to the staircase.

I yank on Sam’s arm and pull her in front of me, and usher her to follow Chad and Tara, but she stops when she notices me freezing on the bottom step.

“What are you doing? Come on!” Urgency seeps into her voice and she tries to drag me up the stairs, but I don’t move.

“No, get to the roof and get help, I’ll buy you some time,” I say, pulling out the knife Kirby gave me.

If Quinn and Ethan want to get to the others, they’ll have to go through me first.

Sam’s eyes widen when they land on the gleaming blade and she shakes her head adamantly. “Fuck no! I’ve left you behind twice now, I’m not doing it again!”

“Sam— I—“ I want to protest, but then Quinn appears with a lazy smile, dragging the blade of her knife along the wall, seemingly in no hurry to get to us any more.

No, no, no. Why’s she so calm. What’s going on?! Where’s Ethan?!

“Y/N!” Sam urges, which snaps me out of my thoughts.

Right. We’ve got to move, no matter how slow Quinn is walking, she’s going to get to us eventually if we don’t move.

“Shit. Yeah, okay! Go, go, go!” I follow Sam up the stairs, taking two of them at a time with my heart pounding in my ears until we get to the top.

Oh damn, we’re higher up than I expected.

It’s at least a ten foot drop from the balcony to the main floor of the theater, but that’s not what I’m worried about.

No, what I’m worried about is Ethan, who’s blocking our path to the roof because he somehow managed to climb the scaffolding connecting the balcony and the main floor to our right.

Tara and Chad are rooted to the ground, staring at him while he simply waves his knife mockingly.

“You really thought you guys could get away?” He laughs and I grab Sam’s hand and spin us around when I hear Quinn coming up the stairs behind us. “Yeah, no. You’re all going to die here tonight and pay for what you did to Richie.”

Tara whimpers and she and Chad take several steps back until their backs are pressed against Sam’s and mine.

The weight of Kirby’s knife in my hand, the one that isn’t holding Sam’s, does nothing to ground me.

We’re caged in and there’s nothing I can do without risking getting hurt because both Ethan and Quinn also have a knife.

“Richie deserved everything he got!” Sam spits next to me. “He was pathetic and killed innocent people just so he could make a new Stab movie! A fucking movie!”

“He loved those movies!” Quinn exclaims angrily and I can’t help but scowl at her.

“That doesn’t excuse what he did! How deluded are you to think that it’s okay to kill people just so you can make a movie?!”

“Shut up!” Ethan shouts and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s absolutely livid right now.

I don’t shut up though. Not only because I can’t stop myself from going on, but because I need to get him to snap and move so we can get to the roof.

“I mean, how fucked up is it that your dad brainwashed you into avenging your brother’s death? He’s a grown ass man and he’s using his kids to do his bidding. Really gets you thinking about who the favorite child is, or was in this case, doesn’t it?”

Quinn’s face contorts into a grimace of rage and I can see both her and Ethan lunging at us from miles away, so I act before they can.

I let go of Sam’s hand and pick up a discarded scaffolding pipe, shoving it into Chad’s hands before turning back around and kicking the side of Quinn’s knee when she comes at us.

She cries out in pain and goes down, and I spin around just in time to see Chad knocking the knife out of Ethan’s hand with the pipe.

“You piece of shit, you know nothing about us!” Ethan shouts, scrambling to pick the knife back up, but Chad is one step ahead of him.

He kicks the knife under the seats before stepping to the side so Tara can knee him in the face, knocking him out.

Yeah, get his ass, Sprout!

Quinn wails furiously and jumps to her feet, her rage obviously numbing the pain in her knee. She tightens the grip she has on her knife and lunges at Sam who raises her arms defensively.

“Oh no you don’t!” I growl, darting forward and catching her wrist mid-strike. I twist it so the knife is now pointing at her and watch in horror as she runs straight into it, stabbing herself in the throat because she can’t stop her advance in time.

Her eyes widen, and she chokes on her own blood for a moment before Sam kicks her in the stomach, forcing her to let go of the knife and fall backward.

She twitches helplessly, coughing and clawing at her own throat for what feels like hours before finally going deathly still.

“Good fucking riddance,” I spit and Sam nods, seemingly in a daze with her eyes trained on Quinn’s dead body until I grab her hand and pull her away. “Let’s go!”

Tara and Chad have already left and I can only hope that they made it to the roof okay. Where Kirby and Bailey are, I have no idea, but the theater’s been deathly quiet since that gunshots I heard earlier.

Please let that have been Kirby shooting Bailey and nod the other way around.

“We need to call for back—“ My words get stuck in my throat when Sam lets out a surprised cry behind me. Her hand lets go of mine and I hear her knife clatter against the ground before I whirl around to see that she’s tripped over something.

No, not something, someone. And that someone is Ethan who’s got his hand wrapped around her ankle.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam seethes and kicks him in the shoulder, which makes him let go of her, but when they both jump to their feet, my heart drops at the sight of him holding the knife she just dropped.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He slashes the knife through the air, missing Sam’s throat by an inch which makes me see red.

I yank Sam behind me, ignoring the way my back stings because of it, and tackle him.

He grunts when we go down and I feel him dragging the knife across my side, but all I can focus on is the sound of Sam’s voice, crying out my name, and the sensation of falling.

Falling, and falling, and falling.

“Y/N!”

I look up and it’s only when I see Sam bent over the railing of the balcony with a bewildered look in her eyes and an outstretched arm that I realize Ethan and I went overt the edge.

No. This was not supposed to happen.

I want to reach out and grab her hand, but it’s too late. I’m falling and before I know it, everything goes black.

I can’t have been out for too long, because when I come to again, everything is quiet.

There’s no shouting, there’s no police and I’m still in the theater, staring up at the blurry outline of the balcony and the dark ceiling.

Sam is nowhere in sight, but when I turn my head I see Ethan right next to me, sprawled on the ground amidst the glass shards of the display case he fell on.

Black dots are dancing in my vision, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I pass out again, but I know for a fact that he’s dead.

His neck is bent at an unnatural angle and his lifeless eyes are staring at me. His lips and chin are covered in blood from when Tara broke his nose with her knee and there are tiny glass shards sticking out of his cheek and forehead.

That’s two for two, I guess. . .

I avert my eyes and go to sit up to find Sam and the others, only to feel my heart drop when I find that I can’t move.

No. Not again.

I try again, willing every muscle in my body to help me sit up, but it doesn’t work.

All I can do is turn my head, and even that is difficult now that I think about it.

It’s like trying to run in a dream, and before I can stop it, a desperate whimper slips past my lips.

Not again. Please, not again.

The memory of Leroy’s face— the firefighter who pulled me out of my parents car after the accident— makes its way to the front of my mind and when I close my eyes I see his sparkling blue eyes above me.

No, not again. Not again. . .

“Y/N!”

My eyes fly open and I look up. Leroy’s blue eyes swim in and out of focus before they’re replaced by dark brown ones.

Sam.

She’s kneeling over me and has her hands on the side of my head.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What did you do?!,” she whispers frantically, her eyes darting between mine.

I go to say something, but she shushes me by pressing a finger against my lips. “Don’t answer that. Save your strength. Just stay awake, okay, keep looking at me.”

I don’t know why’s she’s telling me to stay awake, but then I feel the almost irresistible pull of sleep tugging on my insides.

My eyes flutter, but I can’t in good conscience rest until I know it’s over— until I know that everyone’s okay.

“T-Tara. . . Chad,” I whisper, my eyes momentarily focusing on the pendant of Sam’s necklace. It twinkles in the low light and fills me with an indescribable warmth, knowing that she hasn’t taken the necklace off since I’ve given it to her. It also somehow chases away the panic that threatened to wash over me just a moment ago when I realized I couldn’t move.

“They’re okay,” Sam says, her voice breaking which makes me look at her again. Her eyes are filled with tears and her bottom lip is quivering the same way it did when I collapsed at the hospital a year ago. “They’re both okay. Kirby’s okay, too.”

I exhale shakily and blink back my own tears. “So, it’s over?”

Sam nods, running her thumbs over my cheek. “It is and help is on the way, so try to stay awake, okay? I know you’re tired, and you’re in a lot of pain because you took quite a fall, but you have to stay awake.“

“Quite a fall” feels like an understatement, but I don’t comment on it. I just shake my head and sigh quietly.

“‘M not in pain,” I slur, feeling my consciousness slipping away again.

It’s true, I’m not in pain. I just can’t move, but that’s okay because I know everyone else is okay. They’re all going to be okay, including Gale and Liam.

“What do you mean you’re not in pain? You just fell ten feet! How can you not be in pain?” Sam grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. I can’t feel it, but I see her doing it. I also see her furrowing her eyebrows when my hand stays limp before realization dawns on her.

“Y/N. . .” Tears roll down her face and I want nothing more but to reach up and wipe them away, but I can’t. “You’re— You’re—“

“‘S okay,” I whisper, trying my best to smile. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not, you’re not,” she hiccups and lets go of my hand again to cradle my head and the back of my neck just as my eyes begin to flutter. “Hey, keep your eyes open! You hear me, Y/N?! Keep your eyes open!”

But I’m so tired and she’s here. She’s finally here after everything that’s happened.

“Sam?”

Tara’s voice makes Sam look up and I take that as my chance to close my eyes.

Just for a little bit, I tell myself, but as soon as my eyes close, darkness washes over me.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

They’re all okay.

She’s here.

_______________________________________________

Before you come for me I just want to say that—spoiler alert—we’re going to be okay!

This part was a pain to write, but it’s done and I can rest now.

Only one more part to go!

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[tortillamastersblog]

You are more awesome doctor to be!! Also loving the aesthetic update of your blog!

Have a good week 🫶

-🐨

We’re both awesome, let’s just go with that! 🤞

Thank you, I felt like I needed a change of pace that’s why I updated it ❤️

You, too!

[tortillamastersblog]

Don’t ask me for ideas 😂 I honestly just vibe off you. I doubt you would run out of ideas any time soon with that creative mind of yours!

STEM bestieees fr!! There’s no rest in science 🥲 I’m actually a researcher, more along (gut) physiology. Of course! I know with science it’s easier to understand when you talk/discuss it

-🐨

Okay I won’t ask 😂😂

There really isn’t 🥴 but holy crap that’s impressive. I mean, a researcher?! That’s awesome.

Yes it is, thanks again ❤️

[tortillamastersblog]

Hi guys!

I hope you all had a great weekend. I’m currently writing Part 16 of Back To You and because it’ll be the last (or penultimate) part of the story it got me thinking about what I’ll be writing next.

The Mabel story is definitely on the top of my list, and I will be writing some one shots, but after that I’ve been thinking about maybe writing a Harry Potter story. Soooo, what Hogwarts house would you guys want Reader to be in?

[tortillamastersblog]

😂 cough cough I’m just doing research in the bathroom

Still you hahaha. Possibly a wayyy in the future one shot 🤔👀

You’re big brain!! For you to study med and write and share with us your stories, you deserve a round of applause 👏👏👏 I’m in STEM/science too so I understand your pain. Wishing you all the best with it! Let me know if I can help in any way 🫶

-🐨

RESEARCH BAHAHHAHA PLEASEEEE

For sure, that’s a great idea, honestly if I ever run out of things to write I’ll just ask you for ideas 😂

Thank youuu ❤️ Yeah, the pain is real, dude. . . STEM bestieees!! What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking? Also thanks for offering your help 🫶🏼

[tortillamastersblog]

Haha I'll be discreet about my reading hides in the bathroom 😂

Your big brain is big braining, making us feel big brain too! Yeah that makes sense, reader should use their big brain to be a hockey coach or something in the future

I'm sure the next part will be perfection regardless and we’ll be on the edge of our seat/bed reading it!

I hated exams too. What are you studying if you don’t mind me asking?

Have a good weekend!

❤️🐨

Good! Imagine someone finds you 😂

Oh my God, yeah I wasn’t even thinking about that, reader could be a hockey coach! Who’s the big brain now? Hahhaa

You’re too kind, thank you ❤️

I’m a med student. . .It’s the bane of my existence 😭.

You, too!

[tortillamastersblog]

i’m sorry i sent that to the wrong person….

No worries 🤞

[tortillamastersblog]

Yay to no more exams until a long time away!!

Me reading the latest chapter of Back To You while at work because it takes priority over anything hehe

Poor reader and Sam 🫂 love the soft moment between them. Reader should be a detective with their big brain 😂 I’m enjoying them linking everything together (and how you linked the little details together), truly can find anything online nowadays. Excited to see how the kick ass plan unrolls!! I’m sorry about your slump, take your time with the next part and you can end it with a bang haha

Also with your marathon training, be proud you went out for a run! Meanwhile, me being a slob 😂 There’s always ups and downs and you having exams probably didn’t help your mood. Take it easy and you’ll be back enjoying training again ❤️

-🐨 (sorry for the long ask)

Hell yeah! Amen to that, dude 🙏😭

HAHAHAHHA I feel honored, just don’t get yourself fired because of me 🤞

Thank you! It took a lot of my own brain power to write all that. . . Reader should be a detective, but I think I‘ve said it before I doubt they‘d be interested in a career that revolves around violence and murder after everything that’s happened with Ghostface.

Also, I know! Poor reader and Sam, but especially reader because they’re constantly the one who has to keep it together for the sake of the others.

Thank you, I‘ll definitely take my time on the next part. I want it to be perfect, and if it’s anything but that, I won’t upload it, so it could take some time. Maybe a week? Maybe more? Or less, I don’t know yet. . .

Yahahah thanks! I doubt you’re a slob 😂 Oh you have no idea, those exams crushed my will to live 😃 But they’re over now, so that’s good.

Noooo, don’t ever apologize for a long ask! I love reading what you think. ❤️

[tortillamastersblog]

I forgot to say, good luck with the rest of your exams if you have more! 🤞❤️

-🐨

I don’t have any more, luckily, but thank you ❤️

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 15 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

A/N: It’s big brain time, guys!

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

Liam. . .Hospital. . .In critical condition. . .Surgery. . .

With shaking hands I end the phone call with Paige and stare out of the window.

Now’s not the time to break down, Y/N. Focus on Gale.

Paige is on her way to the city. I told her not to come, but she’s coming anyway. She and I are Liam’s emergency contacts, and it’s better if she’s there for Liam when—not if!—he wakes up from surgery instead of me because I still have a target on my back.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks softly.

I turn my head to see her twisted in the passenger seat, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. Tara also looks at me through the rear view mirror, but she’s quick to look back at the road when she almost runs over a garbage can.

“It’s Liam, he’s been attacked by Ghostface,” I say quietly as I force myself to keep my emotions under control.

“What? Oh my God, is he—is he—“

“He’s in surgery,” I say quickly, ignoring the way my stomach twists at the thought of him not making it. “Paige is on her way here.”

Guild flashes through Sam’s eyes. “I’m so—“

“No,” I cut her off, my voice breaking. “Don’t apologize. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine. . . Right now we have to focus on Gale.”

Both sisters seem unconvinced but they drop it and a minute later Tara pulls up next to Gale’s apartment complex.

We jump out of the car, getting some weird looks from pedestrians, and hurry into the building and into the elevator that takes us up to Gale’s penthouse.

Ghostface is here. Ghostface is going to kill Gale. He attacked Liam. Liam’s in surgery. Liam— No! Keep it together, Y/N.

I clench my jaw and tap my foot impatiently, ignoring the worried looks Sam and Tara shoot me.

After what feels like hours, the elevator finally opens on Gale’s floor and we rush out and into the apartment through the front door that is already wide open.

“No!” My heart drops and I freeze when we round the corner and I see Ghostface kneeling over Gale with a knife in his hand.

He raises it, ready to strike, but Sam jumps into action. She grabs a gun off the ground and fires it at him. Of course she misses because her hands are shaking so much, but it’s enough to make Ghostface scramble away from Gale.

Sam shoots at him a couple more times, but she misses again, and again, until he vanishes around a corner.

A groan from Gale snaps me out of my thoughts and I quickly take the gun from Sam and point it at where Ghostface vanished while she and Tara drop down next to Gale.

“Shit.” Sam winces when she presses her hands to Gale’s bleeding stomach. Blood seeps through her fingers and her panicked eyes flicker back and forth between her hands and Gale’s face. “I’m sorry, I should have known that he was gonna come after you,” she whispers which makes Gale shake her head.

“He didn’t get me,” she says weakly, and I slowly lower the gun. The chances of Ghostface coming back with all of us here, and with a gun no less, are slim to none.

“Tell Sidney he never got me,” Gale whispers, her voice barely audible over the approaching sirens. She’s pale, alarmingly so, and her eyes flutter shut a heartbeat later.

Tears prick at my eyes.

She’s not going to make it. . . Liam’s not going to make it. . .NO. They’ll both be fine.

I blink the tears away and swallow the growing lump in my throat.

Keep it together, Y/N!

“Gale? Gale!” Tara shakes Gale, but the older woman is passed out and I avert my eyes. I can’t bear to see her like this.

Paramedics and police officers hurry into the apartment a moment later which makes me square my shoulders and set the gun down.

“Out of the way!” One of the paramedics says. Tara gets up and move aside, but Sam stays kneeling next to Gale, her hands still pressing against her stomach.

“Come on, move!” The other paramedic says, but Sam doesn’t move.

She’s frantically trying to prevent the life draining out of Gale, but by not moving she isn’t helping anyone. The paramedics have to do their job and they can’t do it unless she moves.

Tara tugs on Sam’s shoulders, trying to pry her away, but Sam shrugs her off, whimpering, “No, no! Gale!”

The desperation in her voice makes it almost impossible for me to keep it together, but I know the paramedics need space to work, so I step forward and wrap my arms around her from behind, pulling her to her feet and out of the paramedics’ way while she thrashes and protests.

“No, Gale,” she cries. A moment later the fight leaves her body and she slumps back against me and turns her face so it’s hidden in the crook of my neck. “Please. . .”

Tara’s crying too, holding onto my sleeve as we all watch the paramedics work.

I’m can’t cry. Not yet because if I start now, I won’t be able to stop.

The police sweep the apartment, and I’m not surprised when one officer shouts that Ghostface is gone, but then another one says they’ve found a body and I don’t even have to see it to know that it’s Brooks.

I didn’t know him very well, but he was kind to us, and the fact that he’s dead makes it hard for me to breathe.

Keep it together, Y/N.

Gale is on her way to the hospital and we just spoke to Bailey and Kirby about what happened. They got here several minutes ago with the others and are now talking to the officers who arrived on the scene with the paramedics.

Bailey was not happy that we stole his car, but given the circumstances, he’s not all too mad.

Mindy, Chad, Tara, Ethan, Sam, and I are all perched on one of the couches in the apartment building’s lavish lobby, going over what happened tonight.

Well, Mindy, Chad, Tara, and Ethan are. Sam and I are silent.

Sam has been staring at her hands for minutes now, and I’m starting to get worried, especially when I realizes they’re still covered in Gale’s blood.

I glance at the others and at Kirby and Bailey who are still busy talking before pulling her to her feet.

She doesn’t protest, but she also doesn’t look at me. She simply continues staring at her hands.

“We’ll be right back, guys,” I mumble to the group before leading Sam to the bathroom behind the elevators.

Luckily it’s empty, and I don’t hesitate to lock the door behind us to make sure we have some privacy.

“Okay, come on, let’s get that blood off your hands,” I say softly, leading her to the fancy marble sink in the corner.

Sam doesn’t say anything and when I turn on the water she doesn’t move, so I pull up her sleeves and step behind her, taking her hands in my own and guiding them under the water.

“Talk to me, Sammy,” I whisper against the shell of her ear.

It’s a little difficult to wash the blood off since it’s dried to her skin, but I just keep scrubbing her hands.

“It’s my fault,” she whispers after what feels like an eternity. “All of this—Gale, Brooks, Liam, Quinn. . . M-Maybe I’ll just give him what he wants. He wants to punish me, so l I’ll just— I’ll give myself up. If this is what I have to do to keep everyone safe I—“

“Absolutely not.” I squeeze her hands and make sure I got all the blood off before turning off the water. “Look at me.”

Sam’s eyes are trained on the sink, her chin quivering, and she doesn’t meet my eyes in the mirror until I nudge the side of her head with my nose.

“You’re not giving yourself up. You did nothing wrong and there’s no reason for you to get punished. This is not your fault,” I say sternly. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again and again and again until she finally believes it.

“You’re not going around killing people in a stupid mask and you’re not hurting anyone by posting conspiracy theories online. You are Billy Loomis’s daughter, yes, but just because he was a psycho doesn’t mean you’re one, too. We can’t change who our parents are and we’re not taking the blame for what they did, you hear me?”

A tear runs down Sam’s cheek and she closes her eyes, nodding hesitantly. I can tell she’s not fully convinced yet, so I continue while drying our hands with a paper towel.

“You killed Richie because he was going to kill you. He was going to kill Tara, and Gale, and Sidney and me, but he didn’t because you stopped him. That’s not a crime, Sammy, so please stop beating yourself up over the fact that you saved us. That you saved me. You’re the strongest person I know, and we’ve been through so much already, so why on Earth would you want to give up now?”

“I just. . . I want it to stop,” she says quietly, turning in my arms to hug me.

I sigh and press a kiss to her forehead. “I know. Me too, but giving yourself up is not an option. We’re going to get through this together, just like last time.”

“But what if something happens? What if you get hurt again?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest. She curls her fingers around the hoodie on my back and pulls me closer as though even just the thought of something happening to me scares her.

I raise a hand to run my fingers through her hair and rest my chin on the top of her head. “I can’t promise that everything is going to be fine, that no one is going to get hurt, but I can promise that no matter what happens, I don’t blame you for anything, okay? I love you, no matter what.”

She sniffles, her grip on my sweater tightening. “I love you, too. So much. . . I can’t believe I actually get to say that now.”

I chuckle sadly and lean back to look into her eyes. They’re red and puffy from crying, but they shine with love and I can’t help but cup her face with my hands and kiss her softly.

“Me too. Sometimes I still think it’s a dream,” I admit against her lips which makes her smile ever so slightly before kissing me again.

It’s soft and slow, and filled with all the reassurance she needs.

When we finally pull apart, I use my thumbs to wipe away the last traces of her tears before guiding her back to the door.

Just as I’m about to unlock it though, I freeze, making Sam bump into me.

Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam?

“What are you—?”

“Quinn. . .” I breathe out, spinning around with wide eyes.

I know Ethan is one of the Ghostfaces, but he can’t have been the one attacking Gale because he was at the park with us.

It wasn’t the Ghostface from the bodega either because he’s taller, so that means there are three of them in total and the only person who ever referred to me as a Snack is Quinn. . .

She’s dead though. . . But what if she isn’t? What if it was all just a ruse? We never actually saw her dead body, she just stumbled into Anika, covered in blood.

But. . .why?

Why she’s doing this? Why’s she working with Ethan? And who the fuck is the Ghostface from the bodega? All of them are connected somehow, but how?

My mind is running wild and the touch of Sam’s cold hands on my jaw is almost not enough to snap me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, what’s going on? What are you talking about?” she asks when my eyes find hers.

Instead of answering, I take her hands off my face and step back, shaking my head in disbelief. “You have Instagram, right?”

She frowns. “I— Yeah, but—“

“Can I see?” I ask impatiently.

“I guess.” She looks at me weirdly, but takes out her phone and opens Instagram. “What are you—?“

“Just give me a second,” I cut her off and snatch the phone out of her hands.

I go through her followers until I find Quinn’s profile, clicking on it and going through her handful of posts before moving onto the posts she’s tagged in.

There’s nothing that connects her to Ethan or anything suspicious, so I move onto Ethan’s profile next.

At first, it looks like there’s nothing there either, but then my eyes get caught on old picture he’s tagged in.

The picture shows a young Ethan sitting on the hood of a shabby truck, smiling, while another guy, presumably his friend and the guy who posted the picture, is sitting on the roof of the truck’s cabin with a piece of straw between his teeth.

It’s a cute picture, but Ethan’s short hair and dimpled smile remind me of someone. I’m not quite sure who, but it’s making my chest tighten and the caption confirms my suspicions that Ethan and Quinn knew each other way before attending Blackmore.

My partner in crime, E.K.

(📸 Quinny)

August 2017

What the hell is going on? E.K.? Does Ethan have a middle name I’m not aware of?

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Sam asks, tugging on my sleeve, but again, I don’t answer.

I zoom in on Ethan, and narrow my eyes trying to figure out who he reminds me of.

Short, curly hair, thick eyebrows, narrow nose. . .

Oh my— Wait, no. That can’t be—

I go back to Quinn’s profile and look at her old pictures, my heart racing as my brain puts two and two together.

Same eyes, same hair color, same nose. . .

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, finally looking up at Sam who’s chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought.

“What is it?” she asks.

I turn the phone and show her the two photos, also making sure to point out the caption under the post Ethan is tagged in.

“Quinn and Ethan are siblings! Quinn is the one who tried to kill Gale,” I exclaim, my hands shaking because of the revelation.

“What? No! That can’t be. Quinn is dead and—“

“Is she though?” I cut her off impatiently. “It was Ethan who attacked us at the apartment and we never saw her dead body. We also didn’t see her getting stabbed. All we saw was a bunch of blood. And look—“ I point at the picture of a young Quinn on the phone—, “they’re basically twins! And Ghostface called me a snack on the phone! Remember what Quinn said when we first met?”

Sam’s eyes widen and she visibly pales. “Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam,” she whispers and I nod adamantly.

“Exactly! It’s her and— Oh my fucking God. . .” My mouth goes dry and my heartbeat pounds in my ears.

“What?!” Sam takes the phone out of my hands and steps closer, tugging on my sleeve. “What is it?!”

“Detective Bailey is the Ghostface from the bodega,” I whisper, horrified. “H-He’s Quinn’s and Ethan’s dad and he’s got combat training and he knows how to use a shotgun. He stole the old Ghosface masks and all the other shit in the old theater out of evidence!“

“Holy shit.” Sam runs her hand through her hair and starts pacing, Gale and Brooks and Liam all momentarily forgotten. “We have to tell someone!”

I nod and exhale shakily. “We do, but we need proof first and we have to be careful. Bailey and Ethan can’t know that we know. And Quinn could be anywhere, so we have to stick together.”

Sam stops pacing and looks at me with determination, nodding. “We need a plan.”

I agree. We need a plan. This ends tonight.

_______________________________________________

Hi, everyone! I originally planned on making this part super long, but I promised I’d post something today, so I decided to cut it short. I’m also in a bit of a slump because I’ve been writing non stop lately and I need some time to plot the big showdown❤️

* NOT PROOFREAD YET

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

Also, to whoever may be interested, marathon training sucks sometimes! I went out for a supposedly easy 10k run yesterday and I felt like shit the entire time. I usually love running, but yesterday was just horrible. I was tired and hungry and I couldn’t wait to get back home and curl up in bed with some tea.

[tortillamastersblog]

Wooo! But genuinely though no rush/pressure with your writing 🫶

Nooo exam ew, so early in the year 😭 I’m sure you did well in it! I hope me sharing my one and only brain cell with you helped, along with your plentiful bigbrain cells 😂

Looking forward to all of it!! ❤️

Thanks ❤️❤️

Yeah, I know, like the year just started let me liiiivveee! 😭 Hahahhaa it definitely helped 🫶🏼

Can’t wait to hear what you think ❤️