#bailey yells at them to shut the fuck up
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happy holidays!
and if you don’t celebrate anything this time of year then happy end-of-the-year <3
—
i like to think the orphans (robin, specifically) make one singular charlie brown christmas tree for the holidays and whitney thinks it’s dog shit LMFAO
also an old whitney wip i never finished ->
old art warning; anyway, whitney was actually the first dol character i drew (minus my pc) but i never could figure out how to actually draw him and didn’t like the way it looked which is how we ended up with the kylar drawing instead LMFAO
ignore the mess i use a felt tip pen or whatever it’s called for sketching when i don’t want to use my usual pen.
i would draw whitney more if i knew how but i hate his hair so i never tried again after this one^ i’ll come back in like half a year and try again but f!whitney would be so much easier cuz i can imagine her with a handful of different hairstyles. i’ve seen so many good whitney designs i’d love to gush about right now but please just know if you’ve ever drawn them -> i stared at your art an unhealthy amount of times.
i know i’ve drawn kylar the most but characters like bailey and whitney were the first ones i was introduced to when i discovered DoL by the power of Ao3 so they’re forever imprinted in my brain first and foremost and it makes me mad. AND LANDRY… my beloved. that’s my pc’s best friend forever and always. a money laundering criminal is the least unhinged character in DoL. i love it.
#degrees of lewdity#dol whitney#whitney the bully#dol robin#robin the orphan#binge!myart#you think the orphans hum charlie brown christmas song#bailey yells at them to shut the fuck up#dol fanart
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Quinn Bailey Must Die, p2
P1 | P2 | P3
summary: Quinn Bailey continues her quest to conquer the Carpenter sisters. Well, one of them, at least. 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: 6.1k
a/n: set in the all hers universe, sequel to the first. wanted to try something a lil different - this is mostly from Sam's POV. There will be at least one other part after this one. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts!
Sam’s bed is shaking when she wakes.
She has a fan plugged into the wall. Military grade earplugs. A white noise machine.
And yet, every morning, she wakes to the sound of a squeaking mattress and you moaning like you’re on a casting couch for a bad 60s porno.
Aggravated, she sits up. Launches a pillow at the wall in the hope it will quell your happy groans.
It doesn’t.
“Tara, YN!” She yells, more than fed up, “Shut up! Shut the fuck up.”
You hear Tara groan through the walls. A quiet shush. The bed stops shaking. Sam slumps back into her pillows, content.
Tara has never cared, but at least you can be shamed into silence.
She closes her eyes, snuggles back into her pillows for a couple more hours of precious sleep.
A few minutes go by, and just as Sam is on the cusp of unconsciousness, she hears you let out another, loud moan.
“Oh, Tara-”
Sam sits up.
Fuck this, she thinks as she grouchily shimmies back into an old hoodie, I’ll sleep outside.
-
When Sam returns to the kitchen - after seventy minutes of tossing and turning with a pillow and a blanket in the apartment hallway - Tara has the audacity to look pleased with herself.
She’s wearing one of your old t-shirts, absent-mindedly stroking your hair as she sips on a cup of coffee. As if her bedroom activities hadn’t driven Sam out of hers.
Sam is fuming. Her cheeks are red as she slams her bedding onto the couch.
You turn at the same time Tara does.
“What’s up, Sam?” Asks Tara, like she doesn’t know the answer, “You look like you’ve just been dragged through a bush backwards.”
“You know what’s up,” Sam growls. She snatches a mug from the kitchen counter and pours herself a healthy helping of coffee, “How many times do I have to tell you-“
“Relax, Sam,” Tara says with a roll of her eyes, “We didn’t realize you were awake. We’re sorry-“
“I wasn’t awake until you woke me,” Sam says, jabbing a finger towards her nonplussed sister, “This is ridiculous. It’s the third time this week. If you two can’t respect my boundaries-”
Your face is a little hot. You shoot an apologetic look towards Sam, “We’re sorry, Sam,” You say, “We get… carried away sometimes.”
But Tara looks annoyed.
“This is our home,” Says Tara, “If we want to fuck, we will. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to-”
Sam slams her hand to the counter, making you jump.
“You asked me to come here,” She growls. She looks a little wild; red cheek, hair messy and ruffled, dark, tired eyes, “You asked me to pitch in. If you want me to go, I’m taking my share of the rent with me.”
Tara crosses her arms, unhappily.
“I’m doing the two of you a favor by being here. You think I can afford to pay New York City rent and California rent? The least you can do is not have loud sex at six AM-” Continues Sam, voice strained.
“You’re right, we’re sorry, Sam,” You interject, eyebrows pinched, “Right, babe? We’ll be quieter.”
Tara’s quiet for a moment, but Sam knows her sister. She knows the things Tara’s thinking in her head, and none of them are favorable.
“I have a life back in California,” Sam warns, “If you want me to go, I’ll go. But I’m taking my money with me.”
Tara’s brows knit.
“We don’t want that,” You say, quickly, “We’re very grateful you decided to help us out. Right, Tara?”
“Very grateful,” Tara says, voice tight, “Sorry, Sam.”
She pauses a moment.
“Babe, you’ve got the ad up, right?”
Sam ignores the spark of annoyance that floods through her and grabs her lunch.
She sighs right before she heads out. Decides she doesn't want to start her day swimming in negativity.
“Bye, YN. Love you, Tara.”
“Bye Sam,” You say, with a small smile, “Have a good day.”
Sam waits a moment.
“Bye, Tara.” She says, once more.
Tara rolls her eyes, “Bye Sam. What, you need me to walk you out or something?”
Sam just sighs and leaves.
-
Sam has a new job at NYU.
A job she loves.
Her life so far? Deadbeat father, emotionally absent mother. A murderous psychopath as a biological father. A murderous psychopath as an ex-boyfriend.
It hasn’t panned out the way she was hoping.
Nowadays, there’s only two bright sparks in her life.
Her baby sister, and her job.
What more could a girl need?
She’s working in the history department, a subject she’s always been good at. Tutoring students who apparently don’t share her prowess for the past.
Her first assignment is a nineteen year old boy with straight D grades. Her second is a girl who point blank asks if “the Nazis won the Korean War?”
Her third strolls into the library now.
Doesn’t bother to introduce herself. She walks in like she owns the place. Settles herself next to Sam with a coy look in her eye and flutter of her eyelashes.
“Hi,” Says the girl, with a coy smile. A smile that is far too friendly for discussing the Yom Kippur war.
Sam blinks.
“Hi,” She says, a little taken aback. She gets ahold of herself, “I’m Sam. I’ll be your tutor for the next semester.”
This girl has long, flowing strawberry-blonde hair. Piercing blue eyes. She’s wearing a shirt that rides up over her belly button and a pair of pants that are so tight they look as if they were painted on.
The girl watches for a moment. Surveys Sam - like a hungry wolf might appraise a rabbit.
And then she grins.
“We actually know each other,” Says the girl, “At least - we know of each other.”
Sam tilts her head.
“Oh?”
“I know your sister,” Says the girl, and her smile turns sheepish, “I used to live with her. Before she kicked me out.”
Sam blinks.
“You’re Quinn Bailey,” Sam realizes with a start.
Quinn’s cheeks pinch in a tight smile.
“Guilty,” She says with a nervous laugh, “Sorry. This is awkward. I didn’t know the school was going to pair me with you. I mean - I didn’t even know you worked here.”
Sam leans back a little, suddenly on guard.
“It’s fine,” She says, “I’ll ask you to be assigned to another tutor.”
Quinn squints.
“Actually, you can’t,” Says Quinn, sounding apologetic, “There’s only two history tutors - I checked. The other guy’s out for the next two weeks.” She leans in close, eyebrows in her hairline, “Mono.”
She pauses.
“Sorry, this must be awkward for you. But I really do need help. My first paper is due next Thursday.”
Sam sighs.
“Look, Quinn,” She says, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea after you-“
“Threw myself at your sister?” Quinn finishes. Her face is tight - she looks a little embarrassed, “I get it. I do. But you’re the only one who can help me.”
Sam tilts her head.
Quinn reaches over, takes Sam’s hand.
“Please.”
Clearly, it’s been too long since Sam felt the warmth of human touch. Because Quinn’s hand on hers ignites a spark that sends shockwaves through her body.
You need a boyfriend, she thinks momentarily, badly.
Sam retracts her hand, squinting slightly.
And remembers the horror stories Tara had bellowed down the phone line.
“Those girls are very special to me,” She says, “What you tried to do? It’s despicable.”
Quinn looks dismayed as Sam stands.
“Sorry,” Sam says as she straps her back over her shoulder, “You’ll have to find someone else.”
-
Tara’s in a mood when Sam gets home that night.
She orders takeout, instead of eating Sam’s meticulously planned, healthy vegan curry. She ignores Sam’s attempts at conversation, and turns the TV a little louder when Sam tries to offer her dessert.
Sam gives up, not long after.
She eats dinner by herself, trying not to let her mind drift to Quinn.
“Please,” She’d murmured, “I really need your help.”
Weird, she thinks. Quinn’s touch had imprinted on her mind all night. For such a devilish, evil, homewrecker - she’d seemed kind of sweet. Hopeless, almost.
Like a lost little child, adorned in red lipstick and Michael Kors.
But then she remembers her sister.
You arrive home, not long after Sam’s finishing her plate, batting Quinn’s easy smile out of her brain.
You press a kiss to Tara’s forehead, offer Sam a small smile.
And then you throw your bag down to the floor and disappear into your bedroom.
“Good day, Sam?” You ask when you emerge, towel over your shoulders.
Sam hums.
“Weird day,” She admits. She shakes her head as she catches your questioning stare, “Nevermind.”
You watch her a moment, and then reach down to squeeze Tara’s shoulders.
“I’m taking a shower. Pick a movie for us?” You say with a quick kiss to her cheek.
“Sure, babe,” Tara says.
And then she sits up long enough to shoot a glare over at Sam.
“Just be careful not to shower too loudly,” Tara says, “We wouldn’t want to interrupt Sam’s precious relaxation time. Who knows? She might threaten to not pay the water bill next time.”
Irritation flashes through Sam, hot and fast.
She’d been up at six AM again. Her sister is the culprit. And somehow she’s the bad guy?
“Stop being a brat, Tara,” Sam says, voice tight, “You’ll be twenty next year, you better start acting like it.”
“And is that when I’ll be as demanding and bitchy and sexless as you?” Tara deadpans.
Sam lets her cutlery clatter over her plate. Rage simmers in the pit of her stomach that begs to be unleashed. Primarily on her ungrateful shit-head of a sister.
I move across the country to bail you out, she wants to scream, and you can’t even be hospitable?
But you get there first.
“Stop it.” You say, pulling the remote from her hand, and tugging her up, “You are being a brat. Apologize to Sam and go to bed.”
Tara glares up at you.
“But babe-“
“Now,” You warn, “Or it’ll be your turn to sleep in the hall.”
Tara’s face clouds over.
It’s a familiar look to Sam.
It’s the one she used to give to their Father. Right after she’d choked Sam, or punched her, or pulled her hair.
Her fake apology face.
“Sorry Sam,” She mumbles, as she stands, looking anything but, “Try earplugs next time, maybe.”
“Bed.” You say, “Now.”
Tara storms off to bed, shooting a withering glare over to Sam as she leaves.
Sam’s lips twitch.
She’s used to this - Tara taking her anger out on her. She’s done their whole lives.
It doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
You sigh, throwing your towel over one of the dining chairs.
“Sorry,” You say, “You know what she’s like sometimes.”
“That therapy is really working wonders, huh?” Asks Sam, a little sarcastic. Her hands are shaking, a little.
You bite your lip, sinking into the seat opposite her.
“Good days and bad days,” You say, “Dr Colmann says miracles aren’t going to happen overnight.”
“That girl needs a miracle.” Sam says, a little frosty. Then, she softens, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m not trying to put you in the middle.”
“It’s fine, Sam,” You say, “I know she can be a handful. We’re talking about all the stuff she used to do as a kid in therapy.”
Sam snorts.
“You mean like when she cut off all the heads of my teddy bears because I wouldn’t let her blow out the candles on my birthday cake?”
You blink, a little taken aback.
“No,” You say, slowly, “She kept that one quiet.”
“You better not be talking about me.” Tara’s voice sounds down the hall, hot and angry.
You look from Sam long enough to shoot a glare down the hall, “And you better be in bed. I mean it, Tara. I’ll be there in five.”
Tara huffs, but retreats, nonetheless.
You look back over to Sam, who has a contemplative look on her face.
“I met Quinn Bailey today,” She says.
You stare.
“Why?” Is what you ask, and then you frown, “She’s not trying to worm her way back in here, is she? Because that’s not happening.”
“The only thing she’s trying to worm her way into is an A+ on her history paper,” Sam says, “I told her to forget it.”
You’re quiet a moment, and then you nod.
“Thanks Sam,” You say, “Can you do that? Send her away? Isn’t it your job?”
Sam shrugs.
“I don’t know,” She admits, honestly, “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”
-
“You can’t turn her away Sam, it’s your job.” Says Sam’s supervisor, sternly, in the morning, “The poor girl was in here in tears last night. There’s no one else.”
Sam pauses.
“It’s just-“ She tries, “She has a complicated relationship with my sister and her girlfriend. They used to be roommates. She made some unwanted advances and they kicked her out. I can’t tutor her. It’s a conflict of interest.”
Her supervisor smiles, a little passive aggressive.
“Spend less time worrying about conflicts of interest Sam,” He tells her, “And more time teaching them”.
He punctuates his point by tapping down on a book about Palestine.
And Sam sighs.
-
“I could just quit,” Sam says later, over a sad looking salad in the cafeteria with Mindy, “I mean, I only took this job because Tara asked me to help out with rent for a bit.”
Mindy looks over, eyebrows raised.
“Doesn’t quitting your job defeat the purpose of helping Tara with rent?” She asks.
Sam bites her lip.
“I suppose…” She admits, “Though it wouldn’t be too hard to get a new one. It’s not like the pay is that great, anyway.”
“I thought you loved your new job,” Says Mindy, “You were saying only last week how good it feels to finally have something fulfilling in your life.”
“It’s just a job, at the end of the day, Mindy,” Says Sam. She ponders this over a mouthful of lettuce, “Besides, Tara is my sister. She comes first.”
Mindy purses her lips.
“And you think she would do the same for you?” Asks Mindy, after a moment, “Quit her job for you? Fly across the country and move into your apartment to bail her out?”
Sam straightens her shoulders.
“I’d like to think so,” She says, somewhat defensively.
Even if she doesn’t believe it.
Mindy shakes her head with a sigh.
“She won’t even stop banging her girl at six AM for you,” Mindy says, “She won’t even let you get a decent night’s sleep.”
“They’ve said they’ll be quieter.” Sam says, softly.
Mindy shoots her a look.
“And how many times have they told you that?” She asks.
Sam averts her gaze.
Too many times to count.
“Don’t do her any favors, Sam.”
Sam stares.
“And I thought she was supposed to be your friend?” Sam asks, somewhat pointedly.
“She is,” Says Mindy, “She’s my friend. And I love her. But she’s selfish as fuck, Sam. You know that. You’re related to that. You’re already being a good big sister. But you don’t have to give up everything for her, Sam. Do something for yourself for once.”
“And Quinn Bailey is me doing something for myself?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised.
“If she lets you keep the job you love, sure.” Says Mindy, “Tara will get over it. Besides, you’re only tutoring the girl. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Sam chews her lip.
And considers it.
-
“I’ll help you,” She tells Quinn, a little later over the phone, “Despite my better judgment, I’ll help you.”
Quinn lets out a breathy sigh, “Oh, Sam - thank you so much-“
“I’m not doing it for you,” Sam says, voice stern, “And we’re not friends. I don’t want you coming to the apartment and upsetting my sister and her girlfriend. We’ll meet at the library, every evening around eight. Okay?”
“Okay,” Quinn agrees, before she hesitates, “It’s not about Tara, Sam, I really just need the help.”
Sam hums.
“See you tonight.”
-
“You’re meeting who at the library?” Tara explodes over the dinner table.
Sam sighs. Helps herself to more potatoes.
“I don’t have a choice, Tara,” She says, “It’s my job.”
But Tara’s eyes are wide as if Sam has betrayed her.
This is how Tara works. Black and white, no shades of gray.
Mindy’s words echo through Sam’s head.
Don’t do her any favors, Sam.
You touch Tara’s arm.
“It’s alright, Sam, we know,” You say, voice gentle.
“Are you doing this to punish me?” Tara asks, eyebrows knit, “You don’t like us fucking loudly and so for revenge you’re going to tutor the girl who tried to destroy our relationship?”
“I need the money, Tara,” Sam says, voice tired, “If I lose this job I won’t be able to chip in for rent.”
“So get a new job,” Tara says, immediately, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable request.
“I like my job.” Says Sam, “I’m not getting a new one.”
Tara splutters. She looks over to you, wide-eyed, “And you’re okay with this?” She asks, in disbelief.
“Tara,” You say, knitting your brows, “It’s not our decision-”
“Like hell, it’s not,” Says Tara, “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“There are no sides, Tara.” Sam says, “This isn’t world war three - as much as you’d like it to be. I’m helping her out because I’ll get fired if I don’t. I’ve already told her she’s not coming to the apartment. You won’t have to see her. If she tries anything, I’ll shut it down. Alright?”
You touch Tara’s back.
“It’s fine, Sam,” You say, quietly, “Baby, it’s okay. We’re not seeing her again.”
“Yeah, right.” Tara scoffs, “Please. This is just another one of her ploys.”
She looks over at Sam.
“She tried to steal me, Sam, we told you that, right?” She says, sounding scandalized.
Sam rolls her eyes.
“Yes, you told me that,” Says Sam, “And it didn’t count for shit because you’re a loyal girlfriend and your head couldn’t be turned. Right?”
Tara thinks. She blinks as if her brain is short-circuiting.
“Right.” She says, voice slow.
“Perfect,” Sam says, voice dry, as she stands, “Look, Tara, please don’t be mad at me. You know I wouldn’t see her if I had the choice.”
Tara folds her arms.
Sam sighs.
She leans down to press a kiss to the top of Tara’s head.
But Tara jerks away.
“Go, Sam, you’re going to do what you want anyway." She says, sounding surly.
Sam slips her bag over her shoulder.
“Bye, girls.” She says, a little dejected, “Love you.”
But it falls on deaf ears.
-
You and Tara are arguing when Sam leaves.
“Why do you care so much, Tara?” You ask, voice hot, “You’re scared she’ll try to kiss you again and you won’t be able to resist?”
“Baby, that’s ridiculous.” Tara says, outraged, “I don’t want to see her again because she upsets you.”
Sam sighs, and clicks the door closed.
The sound of both your voices echoing down the hall.
Your neighbors must hate you.
When Sam arrives in the library, Quinn’s already there.
“Hey,” She says, voice bright, and then pauses, “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s my job,” Sam reminds her, voice a little tight.
“Well, regardless, thanks.” Says Quinn.
She sets her books down, slips into the seat next to Sam, wide-eyed and eager. Sam appraises her.
She’s dressed a little inappropriately for a library study session.
Short skirt, crop top. Her hair in pigtails, face flush with eyeliner and blush.
Sam ignores the flutter that settles in her belly and pulls up a chair.
“Was YN mad you decided to tutor me?” Is her first question.
Sam opens her book, and points to the first sentence.
“We’re not talking about them,” She says.
Quinn chews her lips.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Quinn says, “You seem really nice, Sam, you don’t deserve that.”
“Quinn.” Sam says, a little on edge.
Like she’s starting to think this is a mistake.
“Sorry,” Says Quinn, settling onto her elbows, “You’re right. Let’s not talk about them. Tell me all about the Yom Kippur War.”
And Sam does.
It’s a little difficult.
Much more difficult than teaching her other students. Quinn doesn’t take her eyes off her. She plays with her hair, bats her eyelids, licks her lips.
Sam clears her throat, starting to feel like prey.
But then Quinn changes the topic.
“I hope you’re ready to be the most consistent person in my life, Sam,” She says, blowing her hair out of her eyes, “Every night. I think if you were to define my dating life, comedy would be the word that springs to mind.”
Sam raises her eyebrows.
“Mine too,” She mumbles.
Quinn rolls her eyes and sighs.
“Tell me about it. I always pick the wrong guy,” Says Quinn, sounding a little frustrated, “Or girl most recently. Always the emotionally unavailable ones - or the physically unavailable ones. I think there's something wrong with me. Like a romance disease.”
Sam cracks a smile.
“I think we’ve got the same illness,” She teases, “I have a similar track record.”
Quinn sits a little straighter.
“Oh, yeah?” She asks, “Like who?”
Flashes of Richie blindsight Sam. His smile. His laugh. They way he’d kissed her.
The way he’d lied to her.
Tried to literally murder her sister.
Sam swallows, bad taste suddenly filling her mouth.
“No-one,” She says, hurriedly, “Just a bad ex-boyfriend.”
Quinn nods.
“I have a few of those,” She says, and then she bites her lip.
Sam reverts to feeling like prey. Something weird simmers in the depths of her belly as she meets Quinn’s piercing gaze.
“Have you only had boyfriends?” Quinn enquiries suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere.
Sam’s eyes flicker up.
“Enough about boyfriends,” She says, clearing her throat, “Back to the Yom Kippur War.”
Quinn’s smile is sly.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“I’ve only had boyfriends, and I only ever will.” Sam says, voice flat, “Now, the war.”
“How come?” Quinn blinks, wide-eyed, “You never wondered? You never tried it?”
“No,” Sam says, “Quinn, please.”
Quinn bites her lip.
“Fine,” She says, with a stretch, “I’ll stop busting your balls.”
Her eyes flicker up to Sam’s.
“As long as you remember - balls aren’t the only option.”
-
Mindy howls over lunch.
“It’s not that funny, Mindy,” Sam says, looking around. Well aware people are starting to stare, “Hey, shut up. I’m in a crisis here.”
Mindy draws her shoulders. Takes a deep breath. But her face breaks out immediately.
Her laugh turns into a snort.
“I’m sorry, Sam, it’s just too good-“ She says, between breaths, “She really said that?”
Sam nods. It sets Mindy off once more.
“Damn this girl has an agenda,” Mindy says, still laughing, “She wants into those Carpenter panties, she really doesn’t care who’s wearing them.”
“Stop being gross and help me,” Sam hisses.
“Just tell her you like dick,” Mindy says, with a shrug, finally calming down.
“I think we’ve established I tried that already,” Says Sam, cheeks flushed, “I get the impression no means yes to her. You know what - I know it for a fact.”
She chews her lip.
“Maybe I should just quit.”
“Relax, Sam,” Says Mindy, with a groan, “This Quinn girl - she’s persistent, sure. But I doubt she’s dangerous or anything. Worst she’ll do is try to kiss you. Hey, then maybe you can put her in a headlock too. Give you and Tara something to bond about.”
Sam glares.
Mindy holds back another laugh.
“Look - say you quit - then what? You get another job, waiting tables or working at a movie theater and hate your life. More than you already hate it.”
Sam scowls.
“I don’t hate my life,” She says.
Mindy nods.
“Sure, but you don’t love it. Let’s see,” She lists them off on her fingers, “No college degree, no boyfriend, no parents, your friends are a bunch of kids you used to babysit, and your alarm is having to listen to your sister take her girlfriend to pound town every morning.”
Sam’s ears flame red.
“You’re disgusting,” She says, voice flat, “And my life is just fine, thank you.”
Mindy shrugs.
“If you say so,” She says, slurping at her milkshake. She pauses, “God, that just made me sad. Maybe you should bang Quinn.”
“Very helpful,” Sam grumbles, as she stands, “Thanks Mindy.”
-
Sam gets home late - on purpose.
The last thing she wants to do is deal with the changing winds of Tara’s mood swings. Or even worse - the “I told you so”, which she’s sure is to come.
She hits the gym.
Tries to decompress her own thoughts.
Quinn is only trying to get close to Tara, she reasons, Quinn wants you because she can’t have your sister.
Her treadmill jog turns into a sprint.
And you’re straight.
It’s dark by the time Sam gets home.
But when she enters the apartment, expecting an empty living room - Tara’s sprawled across the couch.
The lights are out, and Sam squints as she makes out her sister's figure.
Tara sits up, like she’s been waiting for her.
Storm in her eyes.
“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Says Tara, arms crossed. The couch has been transformed into a makeshift bed, in which she is clearly sleeping in.
Alone.
“Your new best buddy Quinn has caused disarray in my relationship.”
Sam sighs, setting down her bag.
“What happened?” She asks, reaching into the fridge for a beer. Alcohol is always necessary when Tara is like this.
Tara crosses her arms.
“You know what happened,” She says, “We got rid of Quinn and you brought her back into our lives.”
“Quinn’s not in your life, Tara,” Sam reminds her, “She’s barely in mine. You really think she’s worth picking arguments over?”
Tara frowns.
“I didn’t pick an argument,” Tara says, “You’re the one who brought it up.”
“And so you’re sleeping on the couch?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised, “What did you say?”
Tara huffs.
“Why do you always assume it was me who said something?” She asks.
“Because it usually is.” Sam retorts. She lifts the beer to her lips and takes a long swig.
Tara’s quiet.
“I just suggested we should… maybe help you look for a new job or something.”
Sam stares.
“Make you quit your job, is what I said, I think.” Tara says, a little sheepish, “YN’s mad because she doesn’t think I treat you well, or whatever. But I told her you don’t care about that. We’re sisters, we treat each other badly. That’s just how it goes.”
She looks over to Sam, expectantly. Like she’s waiting for her to agree.
Sam blinks. A sharp wave of hurt flushes through her chest that she can’t quite swallow.
“I don’t treat you badly, Tara, I love you.” Says Sam after a long moment. There’s pain in her chest, making her words hard to get out, “I flew across the country for you. I’m living in a shoebox apartment infested with cockroaches for you. I fought Ghostface for you.”
Tara blinks.
“I tell you I love you everyday, before I leave, do you know that?” Sam asks, eyebrows crinkled, “But you never say it back. Why do you never say it back?”
Tara just stares, eyes owlish.
Sam might cry.
Mindy’s half-cocked summary of her life had also made Sam a little sad. Because what does she have, truly?
No boyfriend, no friends, a sister who treats her less than human. Like Sam’s a piece of dog-shit on the bottom of her shoe that she can’t quite shake.
She won’t cry in front of Tara.
Sam drops the empty beer bottle to the counter and rubs her eyes. Her sadness momentarily turns to anger.
“I do everything for you,” Sam tells her, after a long moment, “But I love this job. This time you can do something for me. You can accept it.”
-
When Sam leaves in the morning, the apartment is strangely somber.
Tara’s avoiding Sam. You’re not talking to Tara. Sam’s not talking to anyone.
You don’t really talk to anyone, nowadays, anyway, she thinks, and then bats away the dreary thought.
She spends the day on auto-pilot. Tries to will away the self-deprecating hatred brewing in the pit of her stomach.
Quinn’s smiling when she finally makes her way into the library.
Maybe the only person in her life happy to see her.
It’s a sad thought, even for Sam.
“Joe’s in the best pizza,” Quinn gushes, touching her arm, a little bit into their study session, “Now you live in New York you’ve got to get serious about this kind of thing.”
Sam bites her lip.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town anyway,” Says Sam, “I’m thinking about going home.”
Quinn tilts her head.
“How come?”
Sam shakes her head.
“I’m just- I’m in Tara’s space. It’s not good for our relationship.”
Quinn hums.
Sam blinks.
“Sorry,” She says, catching herself, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Let’s start on the next chapter.”
“Tara won’t have any space if you leave her here,” Quinn says, tilting her chin, “Believe me. I lived in that apartment. I know how expensive it is.”
“It’s an expensive shit-hole,” Sam mumbles, “You know every shower I’ve had this week has been cold?”
Quinn nods, sympathetically.
“I remember.”
Sam surveys her for a moment.
Her brows crease. And her curiosity gets the better of her.
“Why’d you do it, anyway?” She asks, “Go for my sister? I mean, five minutes alone with the two of them and anyone could see how in love they are.”
Quinn shifts.
Averts her gaze, suddenly shy.
It makes Sam frown.
“I don’t know,” Quinn says, after a long moment, “Your sister- she seems like a really good girlfriend. I’ve only had bad boyfriends. Maybe I just wanted a change. Someone to treat me right, for once.”
“And you really thought you could do it?” Sam asks, eyebrow raised, “Seduce her?”
“No,” Quinn admits, “But it was fun to try. I like that. People I can’t have.”
Sam quirks an eyebrow.
“You’re lucky YN didn’t beat your ass,” Sam says, the ghost of a smile on her lips, “I’ve seen her do much worse.”
Quinn licks her lips.
“Your sister is really beautiful,” She says, after a moment, “But you’re much prettier. Supermodel pretty.”
The back of Sam’s neck prickles.
Quinn scoots in a little closer.
Their thighs touch. A spark flushes through Sam’s body, embering into wildfire before Sam can get a grip on it.
Quinn’s lips are red. Her blue eyes are dilated. In the glow of the library-light, Sam could almost lean in…
Instead, she stands. Snapping up like she might die if she doesn’t.
“Quinn,” She says, voice flustered, “I’m not stupid, I know what you’re trying to do.”
Quinn blinks. She cocks her head, dark eyes flashing with innocence.
“And what am I trying to do?”
“You couldn’t have Tara, so you’re throwing yourself at me,” Sam says, voice firm, “You think you’re slick, Quinn, but I see right through you.”
Quinn tilts her head.
“I just said you were prettier than her.” She says, “Your sister - she’s nice. She’s cute in a pedestrian sort of way. But you - you’re beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Sam can’t help the blush that stems from the bloom in her stomach and sprouts beet red in her cheeks.
Quinn Bailey can talk.
But Sam isn’t falling for it.
“I’ve got to go,” She says, slinging her back over her arm, “I have- plans.”
There are no plans. Sam hopes it isn’t obvious.
Quinn purses her lips.
“Anywhere fun?” She asks, easy smile on her lips, “Maybe I could come?”
“Bye, Quinn,” Sam says, voice firm.
And all but stumbles out of the library with Quinn watching.
-
“Mindy,” Sam groans, down the phone line on her walk home, “You have to help me. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.”
“Let me guess,” Mindy says. She sounds like she’s out somewhere - at a bar, or a particularly echoey house party, “You have a big fat hickey on your neck courtesy of one Quinn Bailey?”
Sam’s cheeks flame.
“I’m straight, Mindy,” She says, though her voice hovers, “You know that. Quinn - she won’t stop. She threw herself at me again tonight.”
“Well, maybe you should just let her fuck you,” Mindy suggests, unhelpfully. She sounds a little drunk, “The girl likes what she can’t have so let her have you. Then she’ll leave you alone.”
“That is some particularly unhelpful logic,” Snaps Sam, “Where are you, anyway? It sounds like there’s three of you.”
“We’re at one of Chad’s lame house parties,” Says Mindy, “God, your sister’s in a mood, you know that? She’s scaring off all the cute girls. Not even YN can calm her down.”
“Oh,” Says Sam, stopping in her tracks, “You’re throwing a party? Who’s there?”
“Me, Tara, YN, Chad, Liv,” Says Mindy, without a beat, “Plus every other freshman on campus. Chad tried to get some seniors to come, but he’s a little far off becoming the campus hotshot again.”
Something pangs deep within Sam’s chest.
Loneliness coils like a snake around her heart, tugging, tugging, tugging.
The line is quiet, and Mindy seems to realize her mistake.
“You don’t want to be here though Sam, it’s super lame. Just freshmen.” She says, hurriedly.
“Of course not.” Sam says, trying to keep her voice light.
Why would she want to be there? At some lame party with kids four years younger than her, drinking like it’s the first - and last - drop of alcohol they’ve ever had in their lives.
Because, sings that little voice in the back of her head, every friend you have in this city is there. And not one thought to invite you. Not even your own sister.
“You can come if you want,” Mindy suggests, a moment later, “I’m really sorry, Sam, I didn’t even think-”
Sam bites her lip. Hard.
“The last thing I want to do is watch a bunch of kids get wasted off keg-stands,” Sam says. She takes in a breath, and she doesn’t know why - but she’s desperate for Mindy to believe her, “Enjoy the party, Mindy, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Sure,” Mindy echoes, “Night, Sam.”
-
It really is pathetic, Sam thinks as she pours herself a large glass of wine, your life. It’s pathetic.
It’s Friday night.
She should be out. She should be drinking and partying with friends her own age. She should be dancing in a club, dragging a stranger home and regretting it in the morning.
What she shouldn’t be doing - is lounging around in her sister’s apartment, drinking by herself. She shouldn’t be moping about an invitation to a party with a friend group that isn’t even hers.
She’s made Tara her world.
But in Tara’s world, she’s not even a thought.
Not a sun, not a star, not even a moon.
Maybe, if she’s lucky, a bit of space-junk Tara can’t quite shake from her orbit.
Pathetic.
Space-junk, she thinks briefly, that’s a good name for you. A waste of space, more like.
Sam sinks another glass of wine.
The buzz feels nice. But the apartment is too quiet.
Just Sam and her thoughts - a dangerous mix.
And then - her phone buzzes. Sam has five glasses of wine in her. She answers, without checking who’s calling.
And her voice catches in her throat when she hears the voice on the other end of the line.
“Hey stranger,” Says Quinn, “I just wanted to call. I didn’t want to leave our conversation the way it was.”
Sam pauses.
She blinks - the room spins.
“If you’re not interested, I understand,” Continues Quinn, and her voice lowers, “But I think you’ve misunderstood me.”
Sam’s heartbeat jumps out of her chest. The hairs on the back of her arm raise, something she can’t quite name surges through her veins.
She swallows, but her mouth is dry. Despite the constant flow of alcoholic lubrication.
Quinn pauses a moment, and then sighs.
“I don’t want you because of your sister,” Quinn says, voice graveled, “I want you because you’re beautiful.”
Sam hums.
She closes her eyes, but she’s still spinning.
High off alcohol, high off arousal, high off something.
It feels nice to be wanted, no matter who is doing the wanting.
She closes her lips, once. Tries to hang up. But she can’t.
Then, she bites her lip.
“Come over.”
#all hers#qbmd#fanfic#mine#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x yn#tara carpenter x reader#sam carpenter x quinn bailey#scream#scream vi#ghostface!tara
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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
words: 4588
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
#tara carpenter#tara carpenter imagine#tara carpenter imagines#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega imagines#jenna ortega x reader#scream#scream 6#scream vi
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Blame It On Me
Ethan Landry x M!Reader
Spoilers for scream 6!!!!!
Warnings: angst, violence, character death, and swearing
Summary: This is basically and alternate needing to my other story Doing It For Love
“Not you guys” said Sam. “What?” said Danny in confusion. “Don’t trust anyone remember? We don’t know you guys, not really” said Sam. “You know me” said Danny. “You guys aren’t woodsborrow, I’m sorry” said Sam. “It’s okay we get it” said y/n. “Stay safe okay?” said Danny. “You too” said Sam.
After Sam, Tara, Chad, and Kirby left, y/n and Danny headed towards the police station in case if something went wrong.
“I’m going to go back” said y/n. “No you’re not” said Danny as he held his brother back. “Danny, you don’t need to be so protective I’ll be fine” said y/n. “I can’t just let you get hurt in there y/n, so keep walking, we’re almost there” said Danny. “Just let me go, I need to help them, Ethan is probably in there with them!” Said y/n. “And what if Ethan’s the killer?” Said Danny. “I know Ethan, he wouldn’t even hurt a fly” said y/n. “Y/n, everyone is a suspect, you can’t trust anyone” said Danny. “For fucks sake Danny! Just let me go! I’ll be okay! Okay?” Said Y/n trying to reassure his older brothers. “Fine” Danny grunted. Y/n gave his brother one last hug before he ran off to the theater.
Y/n finally found a way inside the theater as he heard gunshots. He made it to see Quinn unmask herself. But he also saw two other people, Detective Bailey and Ethan. Y/n was in shock, he didn’t know what to say. When he finally snapped out of his trance detective Bailey already noticed him. “Well, well, well, look who decided to join the party?” Laughed Bailey.
Ethan turned to see y/n who had tears in his eyes. Suddenly Ethan saw Quinn walked up to y/n and held a knife to his throat. “Let y/n go!” Said Tara. “We’ll teach him a lesson never to be nosy” said Bailey. “Wait! Dad, do you really think this is necessary? We just want to kill Tara and Sam” said Ethan. “Don’t tell me you actually caught feelings for the little bitch!” Said Bailey. “You know what, you can kill him” said Bailey as Quinn pushed y/n to Ethan.
“Ethan please don’t” cried y/n. Ethan stared at y/n with tears in his eyes. “Oh shut up y/n! You wouldn’t even let Ethan have sex with you, you’re such a fucking tease!” Yelled Quinn. “Go ahead and kill him!” Barked Bailey. “I’m sorry y/n” whispered Ethan as he lodged his knife into y/n’s gut. Y/n started to scream in pain as the sharp object stabbed him.
Ethan pulled out the knife as y/n collapsed on the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me! He’s still breathing!” Yelled Bailey. Bailey pointed his gun at y/n, but before he shot y/n Ethan shoved him out of the way. “Ethan what the fuck!” Yelled Quinn. That distraction gave Tara the chance to hit Quinn with a brick.
Skip to them defeating Bailey and Quinn
“Y/n!” Yelled Ethan as he ran towards y/n who was bleeding out. “I’m so sorry” sobbed Ethan who was trying to stop y/n from bleeding out. Y/n gave him a weak smile before he started to slowly shut his eyes. “No! Y/n please! Stay with me!” Cried Ethan.
All of a sudden the cops/paramedics and Danny rushed in. Danny saw Ethan in a ghostface costume and y/n bleeding out on the floor. Danny rushed towards his dying brother as he pushed Ethan away from y/n. “What the fuck did you do!” Screamed Danny. “Y/n! Y/n please! Wake up!” Sobbed Danny.
The paramedics took Danny away from y/n’s body as they tried to check for a pulse. Danny and Ethan waited impatiently waiting for them. “There’s no pulse!” Said the paramedics. Both Danny and Ethan’s heart dropped. “You fucking bitch! This is all your fault! My brother fucking died because of you!” Yelled Danny as he shoved Ethan. Sam and Tara tried pulling Danny away from Ethan. Ethan felt like his whole world was taken from him, he was the reason why y/n died.
Ethan watched as y/n was put in a body bag and carried away. Ethan walked outside and walked up to Danny. “I’m sorry, I loved y/n” said Ethan. “Step the fuck away from me” said Danny in anger. “You killed my fucking brother, you’re a murderer” said Danny. Ethan felt nothing but regret. He killed the love of his life.
A/n: There hasn’t been any Ethan Landry x M!Reader fanfics lately, btw I’m still working on ur requests!
#male x male#mlm#malexmale#scream 6#male reader#male reader x scream#scream x male reader#ethan landry#ethan landry x male reader#mxm#angst#character death#gay#swearing#scream
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the pipes had burst. Right over your fucking room. Of course.
The stench of mold and mildew permeated your room and Bailey just shrugged, saying it would cost money to fix, so cough some up and he'll get on it. Fucker. No, until you got to your amount due, you were staying with Robin in their room. It was a bit of a tight fit but they didn't seem to mind, in fact, they seem to treasure having some one they trust right there with them.
content warning. kinda somnophilia, asshole, drunk bailey. masturbation kinda, poor Robin man.
shout out to @necros-writing-stuff for giving me the idea for somno bailey from an amazing scene she wrote for the game which sad sadly snipped =A= we are lesser for it
It might have led to them... Gazing at you as you slept. Gooey eyed and smiling, just basking in the safety of their bed and their best friend snoozing softly next to them. It was the only reason they were awake that night.
They simply didn't want to sleep just yet. Marveling at how safe you made them feel, even defenseless in bed in this ruinous orphanage, they felt like they could withstand anything, even Bailey, even the town. Robin barely just managed to notice the soft click of their doorhandle turning and dived under their covers, fabric pulled up to rest under their eyes. Scrunching their eyes shut, they could hear the footsteps padding further into the room, the dip of the bed as someone sat on the edge. Then silence.
Long enough for Robin's curiosity to fight through, to slowly open their eyelids. Hazy shapes, barely able to make the fuzzy lines sharpen into actual figure.
Robin's heart froze. Then their skin crawled. Their eyes could be bugging out of their eyes right now, about to pop out and rolling down the covers.
Bailey. Smelling similar to how you did when you came back late and forced to scoop cum out of you for hours in the bathroom. Of booze and smoke and something that they are way too innocent to know about.
Bailey, ruffled clothes, stained collar askew, shirt open by too many buttons, showing off the scarring on his chest, the dark ink of a slithering tattoo.
Bailey, addled with drugs and booze and god knows what else, his gloved fingers gripping the pillow by your head, as he dragged the tip of his tongue over your lips as you slept. His breathing uneven, with one hand fumbling with his zipper to paw at the growing bulge in his trousers.
His breathing kicked up a notch when he prised your lips apart with his sluggish tongue, trying to press it in-between your teeth. The moment Bailey gets a taste of your minty breath, clean brushed teeth against his drunken tongue, soaked in vodka, he gives a low groan. Precum ebbing through the material of his boxers, glinting in the light shining in from the ajar door.
"Fuck." Hoarse, strained... Weak, you could say, if the idea that Bailey was anything close to that didn't make Robin's teeth itch.
The saliva of his tongue landed against your soft bottom lip, sliding down your skin. Maybe that was it. The lips they sometimes gazed at longingly, now stained with your bastard caretaker's taste, seeping into your pores. That had them break their silent, wide eyed stare.
The squeak that left their throat was choked up, small, but it shattered the tense quiet of the room. Bailey's eyes snapped open and he pulled away, his tongue disappearing behind his thin lips. His cold stare met Robin's fearful eyes, and stared them down in silence.
Robin should have sat up. Yelled. Hit him. Anything. Instead they pulled the covers up more and turned in their side. The bed rose with Bailey as he got up and left, the door shutting securely.
They guess they never really ruminated on how... You weren't safe, even when they felt it with you.
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A Bullet to the heart Part one ♥
Ethan Landry X Reader
!!! Spoilers if you haven't watched scream VI !!!
W/C - 833
Summary - Where you and Ethan are dating and you make a sacrifice for your love, a big one, that means you'll never see him again...
Warnings - Blood and gore, angst, mentions of smut, first person pov, a tiny bit of fat shaming, bad rewriting, murder, gun and knife usage.
Qiunni stabbed me twice already and I hate it. Ethan, my boyfriend is the killer, what the fuck. He tried to let me go but I stayed. I have a gun, Kirby's to be exact, my eyes watering as I press my palm against the wound that was at my left ribs.
"Come on! Y/n! I know your hiding away somewhere! Come out!" Qiunni yells. The gun fumbles in my hand. I could shoot her, I could, but shoot my best friend, but I didn't even know she was the killer when she was.
Someone runs past me and I cover my mouth with my hand that was covering my stab wound, the taste of iron and blood fills my mouth. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't Ethan just be a good guy? I love Ethan with all my heart, but I couldn't love him if he was destined to kill me.
Was that his plan all along? But why did he give me an option to leave? Leave all this shit behind me and forget it ever happened. But I knew, Ethan would die, the killers always die, people like Sam, Tara, Mindy, Sidney and Gale survive. I wasn't one of those people, I was the Tatum, Dewey, Casey, Randy, Wes and Anika of this story, just a character that'll die eventually and these fuckers over at Hollywood will make a stupid movie honoring my death.
Sam sits down next to me and covers her mouth with a finger, signaling me to be quiet. I was quiet before she came. A tear crawls down my cheek. Why? Why did I have to even be in this story? I throw my head back and sob silently. Someone grabs my hair and lifts me up with it while I scream out in pain.
"I found you! Finally! Why were you playing hide-and-seek with me! I was going to make it painless for you, but now, I think I'll make it hurt just a little bit more. Your a little bit heavy too, have you put on some weight? I'm surprised your not fucking Ethan." Quinni laughs and I cry. "STOP FUCKING CRYING, YOUR NOT THE VICTIM!"
I still have the gun in my hands, why hasn't she noticed? I press it up against her leg and pull the trigger. It makes a bang and I yelp out in pain as she lets me go and I land on the wound on leg. I keep the gun in my hands, slowly crawling myself away. I look at Sam and she stabs her with Ethan's knife I presume.
Then where is Ethan? Fuck! Where is Ethan? I see him on the floor, blood flowing out of his mouth. I scream as I realize he's probally dead. Detective Bailey has a knife and was coming straight for me. Kirby shots him with a gun and he falls to the ground. I scream again, he crawls up to us and Kirby tries to shoot him, but the gun is out of bullets. Detective Bailey stumbles to the ground and is losing so much blood.
Sam and Tara and standing above him and explaining to him about why he should never mess with them or something. To be honest, I don't give a fuck, all I can think about is Ethan lying there looking dead, his eyes wide open, he looked like he was suffering.
Ethan rises up from where he was lying before and starts running at Sam and Tara. I pulled up my gun and shot up at him without thought. He falls to the ground and I run up to him when I realize what I've done.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I sob, I scream as I press the bullet wound in his stomach, Ethan's eyes slowly start to close, "Ethan! No! You can do this! Shit! I love you! Please come back to me! Please!"
He pulls his hand up slowly and with so much effort and places it on my cheek.
"Y/n?" He mumbles.
"Yes! Please! Breathe! Come back to me Ethan! Please! I love you!" I mumble out, tears running down my cheek. I press my hand against his.
"Zoe, I love you." He says, his eyes are fully shut now. "I'm just going to close my eyes. This hurts more than I thought it would." He lets out a pained string out laughter.
"Fuck! No! Come back to me! Please! Fuck! Please! How the fuck could I be so dumb!"
"Your not dumb." He chuckles.
"No, I am, I really am." I laugh.
"Trust me, I was the dumb one, this was a dumb idea." He chuckles dryly.
Tears are running down my cheek when I check for a pulse, he doesn't have one and his arm flopped away from my cheek down to his side. I scream as the thought fully consumes me,
I killed my own boyfriend, Ethan Landry and I hate myself for it.
A/N - Ok, first time writing on tumblr, tell me your thoughts, I'm a new writer here, so it may take me a couple of tries to get the format right. But, i might make a part two about what happened after and before with like flashbacks so slay.
#ethan landry#ethan landry x you#scream 6#ghostface#scream franchise#scream vi#quinni#sam carpenter#jack champion x reader#jack champion#kirby scream#killer#death
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The Dutton Twins
Chapter 2
(This has a time to the end of season 1 beginning of season 2)
I was in the bunkhouse with the boys when the door swung open, I looked up from where I was watching Ryan play poker and saw Kayce entering the bunkhouse “Got an empty bunk?” Kayce asked “Top one in the back.” One of the guys said, I watched my brother before getting up and kissing Ryan’s cheek “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” I said before walking out of the bunkhouse and back to the house, I went up to my room and sat in my window, “Thought you would be down partying with your boyfriend.” Beth said walking and sitting on my bed “Got that wrong.” I laughed leaning my head against the wall “Ryan hurt you?” She questioned me “Fuck no, Ryan would be dead. Three times over.” I laughed smiling “So why you up here, your rarely up here anymore.” She said “Kayce’s down and I still haven’t forgiven him for leaving me.” I said adjusting myself “You two always had your way when ever you two fought. It was either hugging or yelling at each other and I hate to see my little sister be mad at her best friend.” Beth said getting up, I watched her walk out of my room and shut the door. I got up and went back down to the bunk house, when I opened the door everyone looked at me. I walked over to my brothers bunk “Get the fuck up.” I said flicking him “The fuck Bailey?” He questioned confused but getting up “Leave your fucking hat.” I said walking out of the bunkhouse, when Kayce finally came out I punched him the arm “The fuck Bailey?” He asked grabbing his arm “That’s for fucking breaking a damn promise!” I yelled coming back at him, I was ready to beat the shit out of my brother. But he grabbed both my wrists “Bailey the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked me “You left me twice.” I cried, trying to get out of his grip “Twice?” He questioned me “Once when you got her pregnant, the next time when you fucking shot Lees killer.” I spoke, still trying to get away from him “So fuck you Kayce John Dutton.” I said finally getting out of his grip, I went to punch him again but he pulled me in a hug “Kayce let me go.” I screamed struggling against him “Bailey.” He said softly once I stopped fighting him “Look I’m sorry for breaking that promise we made. Dad wanted me to do something I wasn’t going to do that to Monica or our kid.” He spoke, I had no idea what he meant but I nodded my “Let’s get you back to the house.” He said, I nodded my head, both of us walked back to the main house, he took me back up to my room and waited for me to fall asleep
Third Person
When Kayce got back everyone was looking at him they all heard Bailey yelling at him, Kayce just walked back to his bunk and went to sleep “What was that about?” Colby asked, “Those two have always had some sort of fight, nothing a little hugging won't fix.” Lloyd said, Ryan got up, but Lloyd didn’t know was going to happen and he didn’t want to know “Ryan sit back down.” Lloyd said, Ryan sat back down but was done playing cards, he was more worried about what he heard outside, the next morning Bailey was down by the barn or near anything “John where’s Bailey she normally jumping when I’m here.” Travis said “Hell if I know.” John laughed “And she normally takes your Goddamn money.” John laughed shaking his head, when Bailey got up she ran down to the barn where everyone, she saw Ryan already had her horse saddled “What were you going to do if I didn’t come down?” She asked looking at him “I was just hoping you would.” Ryan said kissing her cheek “That’s a new one.” Travis said noticing it “Not really.” John laughed, Bailey rode over to Travis and her dad “When did you become old enough to have a boyfriend?” Travis questioned her “When I found someone that could handle a damn barrel racer.” She laughed, Travis shook head laughing “I’ve seen some of the men you date Bailey.” Travis laughed “The men I’ve dated mostly only cared about one thing Travis.” She said holding up a finger “And most of them only last two months.” Travis spoke “One almost made it to a year.” She laughed “Then he met me.” Travis laughed
Most people didn’t know why Travis and Bailey were close, but John did, it was because Bailey spent two summers on the road with Travis showing horses, he was also the one of the people that was protective over her outside of him or her siblings, so he was used to all this banter, hell she went to college down in Texas and he became some sorta of surgoet brother to her through the year, hell she might be closer to Travis then she was Lee
Ryan was watching the whole thing and had his jaw clenched “Don’t worry they're more like siblings.” Lloyd spoke seeing Ryan “they seem way closer than that.” Ryan spoke “Travis has been there through everything for her, somethings her dad don’t know.” Lloyd said before riding off “Your boyfriend has been eyeing us.” Travis spoke he had noticed Ryan watching them “You should probably tell him why we are so close.” Travis spoke, “I don’t if I’m ready to open that damn can worm again.” She spoke looking at Travis “It’s not a good can of worms but it’s probably the damn reason why we got so close.” Travis smiled at her “Yeah, hell I never thought I would be able to cowgirl again.” She spoke “Scary fucking day.” Travis said, “Hey, I say this a lot but thanks.” She said before heading towards her boyfriend, Travis watched her ride off with a smile “Hey Travis, thanks for being there for her.” John said smiling at him.
She and Ryan rode next to each other “Sure Travis bring a horse, help us round up some cows.” Travis said, “Travis we’ve done enough horse-trading.” John laughed, soon they got the cattle back and were sorting them, after Ryan caught Bailey as she was putting up her horse “So what’s going on between you and Travis?” Ryan questioned, “Ryan, that's a really big can of worms.” She spoke closing her horse away “Then tell me.” He said softly “Let’s go I ain’t telling you in the damn barn.” She spoke, Ryan followed her to one of the fields near the main house “Okay tell me.” He said “It was a couple years before I came back here, I was rodeoing out in Fort Worth. When my horse at the time got spooked by something, I tried my damn hardest to stay on her but she started bucking and I fell in the dirt. Getting knocked out.” She spoke sighing, getting ready to go through with the next part “Travis one of the first people I saw when I woke in the damn hospital room, told me I was lucky, but my chances of being able to cowgirl again were 50/50, being able to rope again saddle a damn horse myself, I broke my collar bone in two places, took me a damn year to be fucking able to saddle a damn horse again. But Travis was there the whole fucking time I was showing Horse while recovering. We became pretty damn close during that whole year then I packed up, my trailer came back up here to help, and became a livestock agent.” She said looking at him “That still doesn't explain shit.” Ryan said shaking his head “Ryan I wasn’t going to be any fucking help here with only one good arm, can’t fucking saddle my damn horse. I was better at helping show than anything else.” She said she got up “Nothing happened between you and Travis ever?” Ryan questioned, “God fuck no, he’s a fucking brother to me.” She said before walking away “Bailey, I’m sorry for thinking anything else about you two.” He said running after her and grabbing her arm “Ryan, I don’t know why you would think anything different than what it looked like.” She spoke shaking her head “Because it fucking looked different you two laughing about god knows what.” Ryan spoke, “He was surprised I had a damn boyfriend.” She laughed, shaking her head “Why?” Ryan questioned her “Because most of the guys I date are completely dicks, and can’t fucking handle a barrel racer.” She laughed turning back around “Look I didn’t mean for this to be a fight.” Ryan said, “Well you did by fucking questioning me.” She spoke, and Ryan walked after her “I’m sorry I have no right to question who you are friends with.” Ryan spoke it made Bailey turn around with a look of shock “What I don’t.” He said walking up to her “You should be questioning my taste in men before you.” She laughed shaking her head “You ever thought of going back?” He questioned her “Sometimes I loved doing it. I loved showing horses too.” She said looking up at him “I would love to see you do it.” Ryan smiled at her, she grabbed his hand and led him to the house “Where are you taking me?” He questioned, “You said you wanted to see me do what I love.” She spoke,
The next morning Ryan and Bailey were still in her bed “Shit.” She mumbled she didn’t realize she and Ryan had fallen asleep last night watching some of her old rodeo videos “Ryan wake up.” She said hitting him with a pillow “Ow the fuck.” He mumbled “We fell asleep.” She said looking at him “Shit.” Ryan said sitting up, Bailey got ready and Ryan ran down to the bunkhouse to get ready himself, Bailey came downstairs and saw her sister smirking “What?” She questioned “I just saw Ryan running out of here.” She giggled “Sis this aint no walk of shame.” She laughed shrugging on her flannel and grabbing her hat by the door, Bailey walked down and stood next to Ryan “I got so much shit this morning .” Ryan laughed putting his arm around her “Don’t worry baby my sister will give you more shit, since she saw you running out the house this morning.” She laughed, the cowboys were giving Jimmy shit “Jimmy don’t worry this is the best part.” Bailey laughed shaking her head, just as she turned around she saw her dad cappoles on the ground “DAD!” She screamed, she tried running but Ryan pulled her back “Bailey you don’t need to this.” Ryan said bring her head into his chest, Bailey tried to fight against him “Bailey stop.” Ryan whispered into her ear, anyone who wasn’t in the vet trailer was witnessing, what was happening outside, Ryan sat in the dirt leaning against the mental fence, he held Bailey and let her cry it out “It’s okay Bailey.” He whispered “We will follow the chopper to the hospital.” He said soothing down her hair, Ryan looked up and saw kayce “Meet us there Ryan.” He yelled before getting in the chopper “Come on Bailey.” Ryan said, Bailey looked up and her mascara was running down her face “Ryan take her to the hospital to meet the chopper.” Rip said, Ryan nodded both Bailey and Ryan got up, Avery walked over and handed Bailey a package of makeup wipes. The drive to the hospital Bailey was quiet she was wiping off her face with the make up wipes Avery handed her “Nice having a female in the bunkhouse.” Bailey laughed “You do know-?” Ryan was cut off by Bailey “Yeah I know.” Bailey said looking at Ryan “She keeps you guys honest.” Bailey laughed “Oh you already made me an honest man.” Ryan spoke reaching over and grabbing her hand “Tamed a wild cowboy.” She laughed shaking her head, they pulled up to the hospital and met Kayce outside “Kayce what going on with dad?” Bailey questioned “Had an ulcer and apparently it ruptured, but apparently he also had cancer.” Kayce said looking at his little sister “I’m sorry what?” Bailey questioned “How could not tell either of you?” Ryan questioned “I mean you two as of right now seem to inherit it all.” Ryan spoke looking between the two siblings “You might be right.” Kayce spoke looking at the hand “Can I see him?” Bailey questioned “Bailey knowing you will go off if you see him lets wait until he’s home.” Kayce said setting a hand on her shoulder “I’ll see yall back at the ranch.” Kayce spoke
Kayce watched as the couple left and walked back out the door, he liked Ryan he saw how he treated his little sister, oh was Kayce going to have that talk with Ryan. But was Kayce in that position to give that talk to him.
Taglist: @bellarkeselection @kitty-marie725 @hcwthewestwaswcn
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The Inheritance: The Isle Of My Dreams
Ken Jack Wilson Thomason Marlo is the one owner of this isle that I have fully inherited in a surprise death of a relative that I have no idea even existed.
Unfortunately for him my arrival on a small boat that sailed onto the shore landing on a quaint sandy beach and planted my feet in it for security.
Ken happens to be walking on the beach as he passes me I rummage to find my keys to his shock I place it upward in to sky the sun light flashes on it.
The light strikes him in an instant moment of time hitting his eye sight he caught my mind eyes he stops turning to face me I begin to shake the keys.
The sun light burst even brighter in the wind the sound of the keys howling loudly catch his ears he spun his ears to the side needing to hear the sound of the keys.
He tries to take a step sticking in to the hot weight of the sand every step he attempts provides even more weight as he sinks in to the ground disappearing.
The sand rolls swiftly like a volcano of ashes covering his body entirely till all that is left up to see is his head lost in a trance he can’t look away.
I approach him knelt down next to him I cup my hands grabbing his chin firmly I yank it ever so closely swiftly I turn it to the side to side.
I lean in to him slowly playing with his chin as I kiss him slowly wrapping his arms over me as we make out a bit feeling him fall in to me.
I wave my hand to the side letting it falls to the waste side overwhelmingly consuming control over his body as he pulls himself up by the roots.
Climbing up to the surface of the sand he is now up in a mindless obedient state ready to obey my every command as if he has any choice in the matter.
Snapping my fingers again his clothes strip into rolls of ribbon falling off of him into the sand and unable to uncomprehending that he is now a mere puppet.
I smack his cheek kissing him once more as his cock sprang up rising to be flat straight poking in to my body as we make out in a crazy haze.
He is swooning giving in to me as he wakes up to see the key in my hand and he is now suddenly remembering that he is an owned property.
He kneels to my feet taking my hand as we make out a bit with a small kiss he admits he succumbs to me with utter love, lust and desire.
Mathew James Bailey is his younger son but I sent Ken to the Hotel to begin process of my take over by instituting all of the many varied changes.
Mathew James is a hottie laying almost half way stark naked on the beach the sunlight shines over his wash board abs for all to see as he smirks at all the beach goers.
People are gawking at him in rows of them all aligning at the beach he fully spread up for the entirety he is so fine I think with a smile.
“Hey Mathew James right?”
“Do I know you need?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your in my way “
“Am I blocking the sun?”
“Yes freak”
“Focus on the keys “
“Stare into the light”
“They key is sparkling”
He is about to please me in ways I definitely he can imagine I began to shake the keys in the air but the keys emitting a strange cold sound.
The sound instantly distract him as his body shook the sand beginning to cover him as he falls under the in a pit of regret, complex and failure.
“You are mine”
you are Sam right” I ask approaching the young man.
“Back off “ he says taking a swing at me in the face and I caught his hand.
“Release me at once.” He swears yelling at me in anger.
“Hell no! I am in control from this moment on.”
“Dad help!”
“He can’t hear you”
“DAD!”
“I said shut the fuck up”
“Yes sir”
“Much better “
“I hope you can appreciate it”
“What?”
“My presence “
“I am inevitable “
“You mind fucked me this whole time”
The end
#fantasy to life#nick pickard#Matthew James-Bailey#Owen Warner#Inheritance#financial#mind control#hypnosis#reprogramming#slave doll#android.
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WRITING FIC AGAIN WAHOOOOO
This is based on @insomniphic's Celebrity AU, introducing: Bailey as a celebrity chef!
“YOU FUCKING ASS, WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT CUTTING THE LETTUCE??!?”
Bailey sighs, his concerned eyes watching his Head Chef yelling at a poor Garde Manger who accidentally cut the vegetable not thin enough. He nudges Stanley a bit, letting him know to tone it down a bit, but all he gets is a sharp glare from the other. So he, unfortunately, has to let Stanley do his thing while he slowly collects the lettuce scraps and puts them in the vegetable scrap container.
Well, it’s been a part of his life as an Executive Chef in a five-star hotel, with the whole hotel’s restaurant becoming his playground to explore his vast creativity in food. The owner has been so kind as to let him do whatever he wants as long as it brings him profit in the end. Bailey doesn’t mind it at all.
His train of thought snaps when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he tenses up, immediately throwing a look at whoever that is before his gaze finally softens at the sight of Mariella, the restaurant’s head waitress. Her expression can be described as frustration. “Chef, a guest wants to talk to you.” Her head gestures toward the opening gap between the kitchen and the dining hall, where he can see guests in front of the bar. “Table 5 is an influencer. She wanted meatless steak and kept insisting we have that as a secret menu here.”
The chef pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing again. “We don’t have meatless steak as a secret menu. We never have a secret menu in the first place.” God, he hates social media influencers so much.
“Exactly. Now tell the guest to shut up for me. I’ll call security in case things go south.” And Mariella takes off before he can stop her, leaving him behind in his increasing anxiety. Dealing with customers isn’t his strong suit, but alas, he often needs to do this as the face of the restaurant and the one who wrote most of the menu and recipes.
But Stanley would fuck it up. He’s too harsh for the guest, and Mariella would chew him out, so he can’t let his assistant do it either.
Yeah, he doesn’t have any choice other than to face her straight on.
He walks out of the kitchen, pulling out the cap that he wore and letting his messy black hair bun out. Blue eyes scan the dining area, spotting the target almost immediately due to a small phone tripod standing right on the table, where it most likely records the woman that sits right in front of it, waiting for someone.
“Excuse me, miss.” Bailey doesn’t waste any more time. He wants to do this fast. “My name is Chef Johnson, and I’ve heard from my waitress that you wanted to talk to me.”
The guest looks up at him, now pushing the phone tripod, camera lens pointing at him. “Yes, I heard from someone that you have a secret menu.” Her tone of voice sounds obnoxious and loud at the same time. He sees a few other guests turn their backs to see the ruckus.
“Apologies, but we never have a secret menu in the first place.” The first rule of customer service; apologise even when the guests are wrong. “We do have vegan options on the main course, like veggie curry and konjac fried rice-”
“Well, I know the owner. He told me about that menu in the first place.” She’s now half-yelling, getting attention from more patrons, making Bailey steps back subconsciously and slowly sink down mentally, feeling embarrassed. He knows she’s bullshitting. Mr Owner would’ve informed him a while ago to make her a different food.
“A good chef caters to every customer. A great chef wants to preserve their art in the food and not let people take the thing that makes it a part of you away.”��
Many eyes are watching him, putting pressure on the chef’s back, and his mind blurs out the woman’s continuous angry rant little by little until it’s nothing but echoes of blabs. He can feel his legs freezing in place, despite his urge to run from the confrontation.
“Be selfish, goddamnit! Don’t let those sous chefs step on you!”
…Huh?
Bailey lets out a small chuckle. Even when he’s alone, Stanley still helps him in his thoughts.
“-and obviously, there’s a saying that customer is king, so-”
“Apologies, but I disagree with that saying.” The chef’s voice volume rivals the woman as his face darkens, and his submissive stance vanishes as he straightens up his back, eyes sharpening with malice. “You are in my restaurant, where my staffs serve you food.” He leans closer toward the guest, expression cold. “I’d say that staffs are part of the government, and you’re just a mere plebeian.”
A sudden silence encapsulates the whole dining area, with Bailey seeming to be the villain on the other side of this story. “You came here asking for something that does currently not exist in the menu that I wrote myself, and you brought the owner’s existence in this poor attempt of lying to back up your claim of the non-existent menu.” He swears he can smell the fear of the trembling patron in front of him. “You brought up the comparison between you and a head of a monarchy who doesn’t have much power in both political and government works in these modern days. You fucked up on that part, miss.”
The offended look on that woman’s face brought a slightly satisfied smirk to his face. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.” From the corner of his eyes, he sees Mariella and a couple of security guards approaching. Guess it’s time for a farewell. “You’ll be temporarily banned from this restaurant for a year or until you change your behaviour in treating restaurants like they’re your servants who’ll grant all your wishes.” He puts up his usual customer service smile. “Thank you, and goodbye.”
Bailey quickly turns around and leaves, letting Marielle with the rest of the problem, wiping the cold sweat on his forehead. The duty is over, and now he can return to his primary task.
He’s one inch away from banning influencers from the restaurant.
————
CAMEO (Luke by @corvidcrows and Narry by @insomniphic):
Ever so often, when the restaurant is closing up, Bailey and some staffs still stay inside together to talk. Some talks were about the guests, the other staff, or sometimes even accidents in the kitchen.
“Wh- TV show?” Bailey hesitantly points at himself. “Me? Got invited to a talk show?” And Mr Owner gives another firm nod, confirming his point. “Why? What did I do?”
Mr Owner gives a shrug. “Dunno. But I got a call from the TV station asking for you.”
His Patisserie, Bucky, grins from ear to ear. “That’s so cool, holy shit!” He jumps off of the counter and gently shakes the Executive Chef. “Mention my Twitch channel, please, so I can get famous too!”
The younger staff gets a shove from a very agitated Stanley, acting as the older man’s protective guard. “No, no touchy the chef. He doesn’t like sudden touches.” The Head Chef proceeds to hit him with a newspaper, albeit not too hard, and the Patisserie giggles.
“I think the TV host's name is Luke? He sounds…interesting.” Mariella shows her phone screens, showing a clip of what seems to be the mentioned man interviewing someone. “He sounds so stiff, but I think he’s alright.”
“In the meantime- Whoops!” Mr Owner pulls out a large box that has been sitting behind his back. “I got you something to wear at the interview because I know your closet is not fitting for any semi-formal wear.”
Bailey pouts, opening the box to see a pair of dark blue jeans and a hooded blue jacket with golden trims at the bottom and around the sleeves, neatly folded inside. The sight excites the chef, now babbling out of excitement as he wears the jacket. The jacket’s weight feels so right and baggy, and the fabric doesn’t make his skin itchy. The hood also covers the back of his head, and he feels a lot safer with the coverage.
“Aerrowpose has a lot of comfy designs, so I’d reckon you’d like that.” Mr Owner’s expression softens, fondly watching the chef’s giddy act. “I keep seeing the CEO wearing his own brand on TV, and I thought that if the chairman himself likes it a lot, then it’s the real deal.”
“Can I buy ten more of this?”
“No, Bailey, you can’t.”
#the stanley parable#tsp#tsp au#tsp narrator#stanley parable#tsp stanley#tsp fanfic#paraverse#URGH IM HAVING FUN WRITINH THIS#WORTH THE LACK OF SLEEP
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I'm Sorry(pt.12)
Series: Fondness | Scream
Paring: (Chad Meeks-Martin x OFC Hicks! Ethan Landry x OFC Hicks!)
Word Count: 1653
Warnings: death, gun, knife, language
Last
"Why did you choose this?"
"I told you this or I would die." He lowers his knife.
"You aren't who I fell for. It was all a lie."
"IT WASN'T A LIE! I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU!" He yells as Quinn shoves Tara and Sam so they bump into Lexi bringing her and Ethan back to what's going on around them.
"Have I been a perfect Dad? No. Have I maybe overindulged Richie's love for these little movies? Yeah, maybe. For me, they're just a little dark. But… Richie really loved them. He loved them! He even made a few of his own. Did you know? Did you know?" Bailey says and everyone looks at him pops up as the movie played. "There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."
Lexi looks back at Ethan to see him upset, "Don't do this, please." She whispers to him as she tears up as Bailey explains he helped build this collection for Riche and they have to die so they can go kill Mindy and Gale too.
"Because everyone had to die, Sam! Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son suffers and dies." Bailey screams so Quinn does too as Ethan stays quiet looking at Lexi.
"You're fucked up. Your brother kills mine so you kill anyone who had something to do with it? You do g see me doing that so you?" Lexi laughs at Ethan as Sam pissed off Bailey and Quinn talking shit about Richie.
"Shut the fuck up!" Quinn yells so Tara hits her with the brick then Sam hits Bailey with one.
"Sam! Lexi, come on." Tara runs with Sam following. "Lexi!" She starts to climb the ladder but Lexi doesn't move.
"Just do it." Lexi stares at Ethan's knife, "Be the killer you are. You had no problem shaking Anika off the ladder and she's always been so nice to you."
"I can't. I don't want to." He lowers his knife again.
"I'll do it you pussy!" Quinn stabs Lexi in the back twice then three times in the side making her scream out in pain.
"No!" Ethan holds Lexi up as she falls forward while his sister runs to get Sam and Tara. "Fuck, Lexi." He holds her in his arms as they go to the ground.
"LEXI!" Tara see her starting to cry thinking she lost another friend.
Lexi stares at the ceiling coughing up a bit of blood, "No, you're gonna be fine. Don't die on me." Ethan tells her.
She starts to cry, "My Mom and Wes."
"No, don't you fucking join them." He cries to her as his dad shoots at Tara.
The sisters talk about letting each other so while Bailey walks to go join Quinn but stops seeing Ethan going off the script. He points his gun at Lexi getting ready to pull the trigger so Ethan gets up tackling his father.
"What are you doing!" He yells at him.
"Fuck you, fuck all of this. You made me kill Mom! I'm not letting her die." Ethan stands up with his father while Tara rushes over to Lexi who was breathing heavily.
"You're gonna be okay."
"Am I?" Lexi stares at her.
"Yes."
"You want to throw all this away for a stupid girl?" Bailey asks his son.
"She's not a stupid girl! You would know if you fucking listen to me when I talk to you! All of this for Richie? Fuck, Richie! It's always him or Quinn. Firstborn son… Firstborn Daughter. WHAT ABOUT ME!" Ethan points his knife at his father.
"Don't be stupid."
"Fuck you!" Ethan runs at him so he shoots his son so he falls back distracting Quinn to look and was shocked their dad killed Ethan.
"Looks like you're down another brother." Sam tells her.
"He was always the weak pathetic one." Quinn chuckles, "He fell in love."
"At least he had somewhat of humanity. He died for someone he loved while Richie was killed by someone who loved him." Sam smiles pointing the gun at Quinn, "It felt good." She says making Quinn scream so she shouts her in the head while Bailey made it behind her.
He was in shock before they both chard at each other going over the balcony. Tara rushes over to check in on her sister while Lexi tries to get up but just lays there.
"Lexi?" She hears Sam.
"I'm still here. Just kill the bastard. I'll play dead in the meantime. It's hard to move." Lexi turns her head to see Tara help Sam up.
The sisters play the game with Bailey while Lexi did as she said and tried to stay awake. When she starts to hear Bailey get attacked Lexi forces herself to get up pushing through the pain. She puts pressure on her wound as she hobbles towards the stage. Getting to it she falls down to rest on the stairs as she hears Sam kill Bailey with Tara saying nice.
"You okay?" Sam asks Tara.
"No."
"I'm nothing doing so well remember." Lexi calls out so they join her. "Any of you got a phone on you?" Lexi looks at them.
"Lost it in the fight." Sam sighs.
"Great, me too while running." Lexi says as the sisters start talking about personal stuff making her wish they would wrap it up.
"Lexi…" Ethan walks over not doing so well falling to the floor near them so he sits up leaning back onto the stage. "You're okay." He coughs up blood having trouble breathing because of where his dad shot him in the chest.
Lexi carefully drags herself over to him, "Thanks to you. He would have made sure I was going to die." She says as he has more trouble breathing.
"I-I'm sorry. I betrayed you." Ethan gets out, "Thank you.. for-," He sighs before his head falls limped and was no longer breathing.
Lexi lets a single tear roll down her cheek as she stares at him while Kirby joins the girls, "I'm sorry too." She says as help arrives because of Danny.
Help gets Kirby and Lexi on a gurney to head off the hospital and as they stop at an ambulance they say they have another one Lexi looks over so Tara looks at her. Lexi forces herself off and goes over to him making the sisters tell her to be careful.
"You're alive she hugs him groaning in pain so he puts up five fingers making her smile as Tara and Sam come over helping her abs checking on Chad.
"Fab Fucking Five." Tara laughs while Lexi moves Chad's oxygen mask to kiss him quickly before putting it back in him.
"Ma'am, we need to get you to the hospital." A paramedic walks over to her.
"He's right, Lexi." Sam tells her as Mindy runs over.
"I know who the killer is! It's Ethan and Bailey."
"And Quinn." Lexi adds.
"And Quinn? Fuck! Did I miss the monologue again?"
Mindy gets in the ambulance with Chad while Tara goes with Lexi then Sam joins them.
At the hospital, after a surgery and stitches Lexi lays in her hospital bed flipping through tv channels till Tara comes into the room, "Hey, they found our phones so I brought you and Chad your phones. You two can talk from different rooms." She gives Lexi her phone.
"Thank you."
"Sorry about Ethan." Tara sits on the bed.
"Don't be… He was one of the killers. He killed Anika in a horrible way. He still stabbed her and about gutted her." Lexi mutes the tv.
"You still had feelings for him and you're alive because he fell in love with you. He could have killed you, could have let Quinn kill you, or his dad."
"I'm sorry for him being born into a fucked up family." Lexi sighs.
"He was messed up but at least we know he wasn't 100%." Tara leaves the room.
Lexi unlocks her phone looking at the old things of Ethan wanting to delete them but she couldn't bring herself to do so.
Chad: Hey
Lexi: How are you doing over there?
Chad: In pain but the meds are helping. You?
Lexi: Same
Chad: Tara told me Ethan saved you from Bailey finishing you off.
Lexi: Yeah, then his father shot him. Kinda weird seeing how they did all that just because Sam killed one son then he kills his second son.
Chad: A fucked up family.
Lexi was going to text back but called her nurse asking if she could walk around some. The nurse was fine since she was going to have too soon just long as she has her walker. Lexi makes her way over to Chad's room to see he was alone at the moment.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" He looks over at her.
"Maybe but I want to see you." She walks over so her moves over for her to sit on his bed.
"I'm very thankful you do seem to be unkillable." Lexi lays next to him since the beds were slightly big and he made room for her.
"Me too because it would really suck if I died after telling you how I felt." He takes her hand into his.
"It really would. Thank you for not dying on me.'
"You're welcome. Thank you too." He moves groaning to kiss her.
"You want to say what you said in the theater about Jill and Kirby but better now?"
"I love you." Chad smiles so Lexi kisses him again with more love.
"I love you too." She says as Mindy walks in.
"Fucking finally! You can stop with your whining!"
"What?" Tara pops her head in surprised to see Lexi out of bed.
"They told each other they love each other." Mindy says so Sam pops her head in too.
"So you two are together now right?" She asks.
Chad and Lexi look at each other, "Yes." Lexi smiles kissing him again.
"Fab Fucking Five made it again!" Chad says so everyone says Fab Five.
#scream fanfic#scream franchise#chad meeks martin imagine#chad meeks ff#sam carpenter#tara carpenter#mindy meeks martin#chad meeks martin#scream 5#gale weathers#chad meeks x reader#scream ff#ghostface#ethan landry#ethan landry imagine#quinn bailey#anika kayoko#scream 6
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(from smooth-boob) 🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share? I couldn't resist!
i can't believe i'm doing this
here's almost the entire first chapter of a/b fic (there's meant to be a flashback at the end of 2 y/o anthony running away and meeting his fake parents, but i haven't written it yet 😇)
for passersby who don't know what this is about: this is the fic where anthony runs away when he's 2 years old, accidentally boards a ship that leaves england, gets adopted by nice parents, eventually forgets that he's a bridgerton, doesn't come back to live in england until he's 13; meets benedict at oxford in 1806 and they start a relationship. if this bothers you, do not read below the cut (it contains smut), just move on, don't send me hate, i am a real person
(i should start copypasting the summary and disclaimer lol)
-
Benedict meets the love of his life one ordinary autumn evening in an Oxford pub.
He's not a big believer of love up till this point. Thus far he’s found it entirely consigned to the great epics of the ancients, the tragic tales of Shakespeare, even King Char and King George, loving in their madness, loving despite no rhyme nor reason, loving when they should have no right. But then, surrounded by his peers who he does not care very much for, a Lord Fife and a Lord Cho and the second son of a baron and the third son of an earl whose names he does not care to remember, he looks up over his glass of beer and finds a finely dressed gentleman making his way over to them.
And his heart skips a beat.
“I hear you’re the best coxswain and crew out of all the undergraduates,” the gentleman says, loudly enough to halt their conversation, with no introduction of himself whatsoever. He has dark eyes and dark hair, lush with a hint of wave, curling over his forehead and pushed to one side.
Benedict hurriedly sips his drink.
“What of it, Mr.…?” Lord Fife eyeballs him.
“I'd like to place a wager on your winning the next race,” the gentleman rests a casual, black-gloved hand on their table. “On one condition.”
Fife raises his eyebrows. “What’s that, then?”
“I’m the coxswain for the crew.”
Silence. Then the table laughs uproariously, Benedict excluded.
The gentleman has a glint in his eyes, a tilt of his head befitting a lord. Arrogant. Attractive. His nose is straight, aristocratic, and his lips—
Smirking. Thin and pink, but full.
“My good man,” Fife finally says around chortles. “We don’t even know your name.”
“Nor have we seen you around, have we, lads?” Cho looks about pompously. “Are you a first year?”
“You’ve got me,” the mystery man straightens, tipping his top hat, impeccably smug. “A first year, looking for a crew befitting my talents. The best crew. Third years. Well-seasoned. You.”
“And… your name?” Fife drawls.
“Bailey. Anthony Bailey.” The gentleman holds his hand out.
Fife glances around at them all rather than taking it. “Hmm, Bailey, do we know a Bailey?”
A chorus of shaking heads.
Fife’s gaze sharpens. “What’s your father’s name? Where are your estates?”
At this, Bailey tilts his chin up. “My father is a merchant. And our estate is a shop in Bloomsbury. Which I’m sure you wouldn’t know of, since all you lords seem to learn is which of your first cousins has the biggest dowry so you can fuck them till you sire an heir—”
Fife punches him in the stomach, and the others set upon him like dogs, and Benedict yells and grabs the closest man to him, the second—or was it third?—son of a baron, whoever he is—
But heroic tales where justice is served are consigned to the epics, are the stuff of fairytales, have no place in reality. So the merchant is tossed out onto the cobblestone street, and the door slammed shut against the sudden autumn rains.
-
Benedict slips out the back door under the pretence of taking a piss outside.
The merchant is in a nearby alleyway taking shelter under the arch of a doorway. He has a cut on his cheekbone that he dabs at with a handkerchief; he puts it away with a mostly concealed wince when Benedict approaches.
They stare each other down like two fighters forced into the ring. Benedict’s heart aches; the merchant looks so tired.
“If you must punch me,” he says at last, looking away, “I would be grateful if it wasn’t in the same place twice. So, the stomach is off-limits. As is my eye. And my nose, though it hasn’t been punched, but I have plans with a special someone tonight, and I’d rather it not look bloody or broken.” He pauses. “Come to think of it, you should probably stay away from my face altogether.”
Benedict’s mouth twitches. “I’m not going to punch you.”
“Oh, that’s a relief.” It’s very droll. “You lot seem to have trouble doing anything but.”
“You… seem to know our prejudices well? The upper class?”
“Well, you rather like buying the things we make. You just don’t like it as much when we dare to step out of line or try to better ourselves or forget our lot in life.”
Benedict approaches him, cautious, like he would with a wild animal. Or a wounded one. “We were once like you, generations ago. Mere landowners. Until the crown granted us a title.”
“And how many generations ago was that, my lord?” The man’s voice drips with disdain.
Benedict winces. “Nine. I’m… I’m the ninth. In my family.”
The merchant looks sidelong at him in the lantern light, up and down, Benedict suddenly conscious of his finery, and the merchant’s coarser fabrics and simple brocade waistcoat indiscernible in the dimness of the pub earlier.
“So…” The merchant’s eyes drift back up to his face. “You’re an… earl?”
“Viscount.”
“So your father is an earl?”
Benedict swallows. “My father is dead.”
Rain pitter-patters on the cobblestones. Benedict’s fingers, lungs suddenly itch for a smoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Benedict almost smiles. “I’m surprised you have any sympathy left for us.”
“I’m not completely heartless. I know that death doesn’t care how rich or poor you are, how titled or how bottom-of-the-barrel you are. Once gone, the dead are all the same. Sorely, terribly missed.”
“Quite right.” Benedict’s mouth has gone dry. After a moment he holds his hand out. “I realise I haven’t introduced myself. Benedict Bridgerton.”
The merchant raises his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. “The Right Honourable The Viscount Bridgerton?”
“Or just Benedict,” he grins. “I’m not fond of the title.”
“Then call me just Anthony.” He firmly shakes his hand, leather against warm skin. His eyes up close under the shadow of the doorway are near black, bottomless and blown wide.
Their gazes hold like puzzle pieces interlocked, clicking forever into place.
Benedict clears his throat, titillatingly unable to let go of his hand. “Do you have somewhere to be? You uh… mentioned having plans with a special someone?”
Anthony moves closer, impossibly so. “I noticed your staring in the pub.”
Benedict laughs, slightly desperately and high-pitched. “So you’re not the best coxswain in Oxford after all? You just… wanted me?”
“Why can’t it be both?” Anthony’s voice is intoxication against his lips. “I’m the best coxswain, and you’re my special someone?”
“Even when you thought I was going to punch you?”
“Well, I fervently hoped you would not.”
Anthony slides a hand under his jacket to rest against his hip; Benedict sucks in a breath like he’s starved of air. “Do you have some place we could go?”
-
Anthony cages him up against the door to his room and uses their combined weight to slam it shut. “Sorry about the mess.” He locks it and lights a taper on the nearby table, then licks a stripe up Benedict’s neck.
Hand fisting in Anthony’s hair against the sensation (and Anthony moaning into his mouth), Benedict has the barest second to look over his shoulder. Anthony’s room is organised clutter: books and papers on the desk by the window, spare candles on the shelf, more papers scattered on the badly-made bed.
“It’s not so bad,” Benedict says. “In fact I’m quite sure I’ve seen worse—”
Anthony kisses his words away like he’s ravenous, like they’re both running out of time. He drags Benedict by his shirt front over to his bed and Benedict falls onto it willingly, Anthony climbing atop him, caging him once more.
“You’ve seen worse?” Anthony grins, punctuates it with more kisses to the underside of his jaw. “Dare I ask where?”
“Well, when you have siblings…”
“I don’t. I have a mother and father, six freeloading stray cats, and about double that for the number of people I’ve had at some point or another in my bed.”
“People? Not men, specifically?”
“Men, women, and everything in between. And now, you.” It should sound callous; instead Anthony sounds almost reverent. He pulls his lips away from Benedict’s earlobe and extraordinarily gently unties and pulls off his cravat. Breath caught in his throat, Benedict reaches up and does the same for him.
Anthony’s cravat, unlike the duller colours of his waistcoat and jacket, is dyed a rich indigo blue.
“Mmf.” He impatiently pushes up Benedict’s waistcoat and shirt to get to the skin beneath, laying his hands everywhere, simultaneously trying to help Benedict with shucking off his own clothes. His jacket and waistcoat and boots are discarded on the floor; Benedict grabs his wrist when he gets to his leather gloves.
“Keep them on,” he says, hoarse.
Anthony’s gaze darkens, unfathomable pools of black. “What have you in mind?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, his other hand sliding down and unbuttoning Benedict’s trousers, Benedict gladly lifting his hips to help Anthony push them down to his knees. “Your fingers,” Benedict says breathlessly, “in my arse—”
“Fingers?” Anthony smirks. “Rather confident of you.” He puts his index finger in his mouth, sucking and coating it with spit.
Benedict takes his hand from his mouth and guides it to his own, lapping around two fingers, tasting warm slick leather, Anthony trembling in his hold.
“Fuck.” With his free hand he takes Benedict and strokes him to full hardness, Benedict groaning at the sensation of leather on his cock, the back of his head hitting the mattress and Anthony’s fingers sliding out.
He pushes Benedict’s legs up, finally rids him of his trousers and boots and tosses them to the floor. “This all right?” He circles his entrance and Benedict bites his lip, settling his heels on Anthony’s back.
“Yes—”
Anthony pushes in.
Benedict’s eyes nearly roll back in his head. “Fuck.”
“And you wanted fingers,” Anthony teases.
“Hush—”
Anthony crooks his finger and hits his prostate, and Benedict cries out.
“Shh.” Anthony leans over him, keeps fingerfucking him, kisses away his whimpering, Benedict pulling him closer and roughly tangling his fingers in his hair.
“Fuck.” Now Anthony’s breaths turn ragged; he pulls back a fraction, panting against Benedict’s mouth. Glances down at Benedict’s cock between them, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re going to come without me touching you?”
Benedict groans, cupping Anthony through his trousers, heat pooling in his stomach and groin, “I’m not that green,” he says between gritted teeth.
Anthony grunts and eases a second finger in, scissors, fucks him, curls them just so, and Benedict chokes, pants, and comes undone just like that, almost incognisant of it, gasping in bliss and relief and mild embarrassment, Anthony kissing him open-mouthed and lazily and his hand working him through till he’s spent.
Then he mouths his way down till he’s at his stomach, and cleans his come-splattered skin with his tongue.
Heat radiates raw and anew between Benedict’s legs.
“Can I suck you off?”
It comes out rough, awed; Anthony looks up at him startled. “You… you want to?”
Benedict nods.
He sits up after a moment, all of him shaky, turning Anthony so that his back rests against the wall. Anthony is still staring at him, loose-limbed and wide-eyed; Benedict tugs his trousers down and pushes apart his thighs.
“You… you don’t have to,” Anthony stutters.
Benedict looks up at him, one hand on his length. “Do you want me to?”
Anthony bites his lip and nods.
The first taste is salty, Anthony’s cock already tipped with pre-cum. Then it’s just sheer musk; Benedict adjusts so that the flat of his tongue is on the underside and gets up on his hands to swallow him whole.
“Oh—” Anthony’s fingers, toes curl; he quickly sets the gentlest hand in Benedict’s hair. “Oh, fuck…”
Benedict starts fucking him, fondling his balls gently, pressing down hard on Anthony’s hips when he involuntarily jerks. “Fuck, sorry—”
Benedict sucks him hard and Anthony keens, sliding further down the wall, fingertips fluttering at the nape of Benedict’s neck.
Benedict swipes his tongue over the head, bobs up and down, finds Anthony’s other hand fisting the sheets and slides his own underneath to hold it tightly in his. “Fuck, I’m—I’m going to—” Anthony gasps, tugging at his hair, warning him off; Benedict holds fast.
Anthony’s come hits the back of his throat, salty and bitter and hot. Benedict swallows it all, nips the insides of his trembling thighs when he’s done; Anthony curves over him and drags his lips against his temple and pulls him up, kissing him like a man starved, kissing him like Benedict hung the moon and the sun and the stars.
Benedict pulls them both down to the bed when he starts to catch his breath, lying side by side, face to face; he caresses Anthony’s cheek, removes his gloves, slides his hand down past his sweat-damp open collar and feels his pounding heart. “You all right?” he murmurs.
Anthony lifts his eyes to his, still breathing hard, brushing his nose against his. “Yes. Are you?”
Benedict grins. “More than.”
Anthony closes his eyes and contentedly hums.
After a moment he opens them again, something small and hopeful and anxious now threading through him like a childhood fear of the dark. “Will you stay awhile?” he whispers.
Benedict blinks. Quickly eases into a smile. “Of course.”
He settles beside him; Anthony pulls him towards his chest with an arm over his shoulders, rests his head atop his.
Outside, the pitter-patter of rain continues to fall.
#anyway ty for the ask!!#ask game#a/b fic#things are subject to change ofc. it's a wip.#like i literally just swapped berbrooke's name to cho#fic talk#untracked bridgerton#smooth-boob#my fics
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matt jackson/adam page, meet cute AU where adam is matt's kid's teacher
...Anon you found my kryptonite. Any school AU will take me down.
~
Meet the Teacher - Also on AO3
~
Adam's got a parent teacher conference with one of the trickiest parents in the district: Mr. Jackson.
This became over 2k words. I. Okay. This might as well happen.
~
Adam takes a deep breath and peeks out the door to his classroom again. No sign of anyone coming down the hallway, no indication of Bailey’s dad.
“Page!”
Adam jumps and almost crashes into his bookshelf. “Jesus, Silver, what is wrong with you?”
Mr. Silver, the P.E. teacher, grins at him. “You looked tense.”
“I am tense,” Adam says through gritted teeth. “And thanks, by the way. Scaring me definitely helps.”
Silver shrugs. “Happy to help.”
“Thought that was you.”
Adam rolls his eyes. “Oh, god, not you, too.”
Mr. Cole swaggers down the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets. “What, not happy to see me?”
“I’m not happy to see anyone right now,” Adam admits. “I have a parent/teacher conference that I’m pretty worried is going to suck.”
Cole pauses, leaning against the bulletin board across from Adam.
“Watch my kid’s personal narratives,” Adam says, trying to sound stern. Cole does shuffle out of the way, though.
“Why are you so freaked out?” Cole asks. “The parents love you. Moms want you to fulfill their weird little fantasies and fuck them on your desk, all that.”
“Okay, well, I wish I’d never heard that come out of your mouth,” Adam grumbles. “No, it’s – it’s a Jackson.”
Cole’s face falls. “Oh, dude. Good fuckin’ luck.”
“Right?!” Adam half yells. “His kid is in second grade and he’s already been to fifteen goddamn school board meetings. I didn’t even know there were that many to go to.”
“Talking about Bailey’s dad?” Ms. Shida says, poking her head out of the art classroom. “Good luck is right. When she was in kindergarten, he asked me why she didn’t get an A on all her assignments.”
Adam stares at her. “Don’t you grade on demonstration?”
“Yeah. E, S, N, U. She was getting E’s and he didn’t give me enough time to explain it before he was yelling at me.”
Adam whines a little and drops his forehead against the wall. “Oh, god, it’s only the fourth week of school. How am I already getting harassed by a parent 18 days in?” He exhales and jumps a little. “Okay. It’ll be fine. I’ll stay calm, and it’ll be fine.”
“Sure, buddy,” Cole says, clapping Adam on the shoulder. “Take it from the greater Adam. Survival is the goal.”
“I – shut up,” Adam says, pushing off Cole’s hand. “But. Uh. Thanks? I guess?”
In the hopes of ignoring the rest of his colleagues, Adam shoots a text to their receptionist to walk Bailey’s dad to his door when he gets there. He does a terrible job of getting paperwork done as he waits. The clock ticks on until 4:00 on the dot, when Adam hears a knock on the door and sees the receptionist, Mr. Schiavone, peek his head in.
“Hi there, Mr. Page,” Mr. Schiavone says, betraying none of the anxiety in his voice that Adam can read in his eyes. “Mr. Jackson is here?”
“Bailey’s dad,” comes a voice from behind him.
And in steps a man who doesn’t even remotely match the person Adam had conjured up in his mind. Long hair tied back in a half bun, tight white jeans, giant brown eyes, and a hesitant smile. Nothing like the half balding whiner in a lumpy sweater and khakis he’d imagined.
Adam is in trouble.
“Hi there, Mr. Jackson,” he says, standing up from his small group table. He always does parent conferences back at that table. It feels more personal. He sticks out his hand as Mr. Jackson comes by. “So great to meet you. We missed you at meet the teacher night.”
Mr. Jackson shakes his hand firmly, smiling. “Bailes was sick -trust me, you did not want her puking all over the floor.”
“Been there, done that,” Adam laughs.
He nods to Mr. Schiavone, who quietly slides out of the room.
“Please,” Adam says, sliding into one of the kid chairs at the back table, “have a seat. I should probably get some adult sized chairs, but, for now, enjoy the wiggle seats.”
Mr. Jackson perches expertly on the seat, then spins a little. “Oh, I like these,” he laughs. “Bailey likes them, too?
“Actually,” Adam says, and he can’t believe how quietly the conversation opened up, “that’s one thing I’d like to check in with you about.”
Mr. Jackson’s face darkens. “Did you bring me here to tell me my kid’s doing something wrong?”
“No!” Adam says. “Absolutely not. Bailey tries hard all the time. In everything. I can see how hard she’s trying, and that’s why I wanted to speak with you.” Adam takes a deep breath. These conversations never get easier. “I’m noticing that Bailey is having some difficulty transitioning from activity to activity, interacting with her peers, and comprehending texts.” He waits a second.
“Are you – you see it too?” Mr. Jackson’s face drops all the tension. “You think my Bailey might be Autistic?”
“I – yes,” Adam says. “She has some many characteristics, and I want to make sure we can help her –”
“Finally!” Mr. Jackson says, throwing his hands in the air as he leans back and half falls off of the wiggle seat. He catches himself before falling, like he knew it would happen. His hands are going everywhere. “Mr. Page, let me tell you, I have spent the past two years trying to get somebody to hear me when I’ve told them something is up with my girl. She’s – Bailey’s amazing, but I can tell she’s struggling when she comes home. I can tell. And the doctor told me Autism is only in boys, and Principal Khan told me it was too early to make that decision –”
Adam frowns. “Principal Khan said what?”
“I asked about it last year, around November,” Mr. Jackson says. He’s calmed down a bit, but his eyes are just the tiniest bit wet. “I told him I was seeing something with her, but her teacher disagreed with me. Principal Khan said we needed to wait.” He wrinkles his nose. “He and the teacher said she was too young to make any decisions.”
Adam pauses. The next question needs to be carefully asked, expertly angled so no one could say he disparaged a coworker.
“That Ms. Baker’s a real douchebag,” Mr. Jackson continues. Adam doesn’t even get a chance to get a word in. “And I know it’s probably, like, not cool to speak that way about your kid’s teacher, but, god, what a jerk! She literally said Bailey was fine because she wasn’t a behavior concern. That we needed to prioritize.”
Adam’s the one to half fall off of his seat at that one. “She said what?”
“I know, right?” Mr. Jackson says. He shakes his head and his hair is, well, unmissably soft. Adam feels like one of the kids with the way he wants to reach out and touch it. “Like, and in front of the principal. He looked so baffled about it that he just sort of ended the conversation with the plan that we would look into it in second grade.” He shrugs. “So, when we got that first progress report back, I asked for a conference.” He sheepishly pulls out his phone and presses a button. “I, uh. I kind of was recording this whole conversation. I was scared you were going to be another person here who was writing off my girl.”
Adam stares at the recording and runs back everything. He didn’t say anything negative, did he? Just asked questions?
“Sir,” Adam says, “I fully understand how frustrating that may have been for you. Is there a chance, though, that you could delete that recording?”
“Oh, duh, of course.” He turns the phone toward Adam and selects the only recording dated today, and hits delete. “I wasn’t actually going to use it against you unless you were awful.”
“Thank…you? I think?” Adam says.
Mr. Jackson nods. “So, um. What are you thinking for Bailes?”
The two of them speak for half an hour, coming up with a support system for Bailey until the referral process goes through, and Adam finds Mr. Jackson moving closer and closer.
“Oh, and can you add something about how to handle friendships?” Mr. Jackson asks. When he reaches over to point at it, he lets his arm fall right against Adam’s. “She’s having trouble understanding that she has to ask a friend to play, that they might not know she wants to if she’s on the other side of the playground.”
“Of course,” Adam says, nodding. His heart is racing, just a little bit. He can smell whatever shampoo Mr. Jackson uses. It smells like green apples. Like candy.
“Perfect,” Mr. Jackson says. “God, Mr. Page, I don’t know what I would have done if Bailey had gotten somebody else for a teacher.”
Adam couldn’t prove it, but he’s pretty sure Mr. Jackson is fluttering his eyelashes at him. He’s got gorgeous eyes. “Sure thing,” he says, clearing his throat.
“Right.” Mr. Jackson pushes back.
“You can call me Adam, though,” he says automatically. “You don’t – Mr. Page is for the kids. You can call me Adam.”
Mr. Jackson’s face breaks into a grin. He’s so goddamn pretty. “Alright then, Adam. You can call me Matt.” He reaches out to shake Adam’s hand, and their fingertips linger just this side of too long as they pull away.
“It was good to meet you, Matt,” Adam says. He feels…anxious. In a very good way. “Glad to be of help.”
~
The next morning, Adam finds himself primping a little bit. There’s no reason, none at all, that he would run into Mr. Jack – Matt at school today. Bailey takes the bus. He won’t see Matt.
But he can’t help but add a little extra effort to his morning routine.
“Looking good, Mr. Page,” Silver says. He wiggles his eyebrows as Adam makes his way into his spot at the bus ramp.
“Oh, shut up,” Adam grumbles. “Why can’t you be normal?”
“Not my vibe,” he says, shrugging. “How’d it go yesterday with Jackson?”
Adam relays the events, leaving out the smell of Matt’s hair or how warm it was when their arms touched.
“You’re a parent whisperer,” Silver says, shaking his head. “You got through to the scariest dad in the area.”
“I know, dude,” Adam says, sipping his coffee. “It was like night and day. Jackson was totally – well, he wasn’t chill, on any level. But he’s just been worried about his kid and Bailey was stuck with Baker last year.”
Silver winces. “Well that’d fuck up any kid, wouldn’t it.”
Adam nods, sipping his coffee. At least the coffee is cold, out here in the summer heat as he waits for the bus riders to come in. “I just hope he likes me.”
The first bus opens his doors, and they hear “Mr. Page!”
A tiny brunette ball of energy careens into Adam before he can focus, and only just manages to angle his tumbler full of coffee away from the projectile before it spills.
“Is that Miss Bailey,” Adam says, hugging around her shoulders. “Missed you all weekend, munchkin!”
“Daddy says to give you this.” Bailey, like always, gets herself tangled in her backpack straps for a second before calming down and pulling it off. She dives into her backpack and pulls out her weekend folder, then pauses, looking a bit confused. “Give you now?” she asks.
“Not right now,” Adam says gently. “Let’s wait until weekend folder time.”
“Okay.” Bailey continues to dig until she pulls something out of her bag with a Jackson-style dramatic, “Aha!” She shoves a Starbucks gift card, a crayon art project, and a decorated stapler that says, “Mr. Page” on the top. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he was singing his happy songs all the way to school, so I think he’s really excited that you get this.” She beams up at him. “Do you like ‘em?”
“I love them, Bailes,” Adam says. She dives at him again and hugs him tight. Adam holds the crayon project. “Did you make this?”
“Me and Daddy,” Bailey clarifies. “I got to use Daddy’s special hair dryer!”
“Wow!” Adam says. “What a day!”
“Okay, I get breakfast now,” Bailey says. “Later gator, Mr. Page!”
Adam watches Bailey skip into school and sees Silver eyeing him.
“So, uh, Page,” Silver says, and Adam is deeply concerned with that smile, “looks like Jackson likes you a lot.”
“Shut up,” Adam grumbles, blushing. But he’s already planning the thank you letter he’ll send home with Bailey that afternoon.
#This was not supposed#I didn't mean#TWO THOUSAND WORDS?!?!?!?#in which Sara writes#I have never been succinct a day in my goddamn life#HangMatt#anxious millennial dreamboat#Matt Attrackson#wtf i like wrestling now???
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Hiii drew smut where they meet from Madison and have been talking and then the cast plus y/n go out clubbing and they confess there feelings / also can drew be rough.
*Keep it on the low*
Warning: smut and language.
I got carried away with this one so I hope you guys like.
“ I just feel like we never see each other anymore “ you spoke over the phone Bailey.
“ I know” she whined out. “ listen we’ll fly you out this weekend so we can hang and you can meet my friends okay? You’re going to love them “ she insisted.
“ okay” you agreed, the feeling of excitement rushing through you. Madison was your best friend since middle school and it had been a touch transition since she began filming her new tv show, Outer Banks. Of course you talked on the phone but it wasn’t the same, and you missed her truly.
You had almost became envious of her new cast mates because they were daily posting videos and pictures with each other and it made you miss her more than ever .
You quickly went back to your bedroom, packing a suit case- the weekend couldn’t come any faster .
****
“ I’m walking down the escalator now” you spoke as you sat on the phone with Madison trying to find your way to her.
“ okay - wait I think I see you” she spoke out.
“ y/n!” You heard someone yell from in front of you. You lifted your head only to see Madison standing at the bottom of the escalator, her hand waving at 90 miles per hour.
“ Maddy!” You yelled before jogging your way down the already moving steps.
“ oh my gosh!” You yelled out as you both wrapped each other in a tight hug.
“ I’m gonna cry “ she spoke as she squeezed her arms around your shoulders.
“ ugh I know I’ve missed you so much” you poured .
“ c’mon we’ve only got the weekend and I have soooo much to show you” she insisted, tugging on your arm .
****
The ride to Madison’s hotel that she was staying it a was a bit of a drive from the apartment. She was staying pretty close to the beach and Charleston was probably one of the most beautiful cities you had ever laid your eyes on.
Madison had updated you on a lot, including a new girl she was talking to as well as her new friends and their characters on the show.
“ this Rafe guy sounds like a dick” you joked.
“ yeah but you’ll love Drew he’s literally polar opposite than his character . “
******
"Ahhh she's back!" a blonde headed boy beamed, running over towards your friend, ingulfing her in a hug.
"Rudy this is Y/n" She said with a wide smile, pulling you over.
"Hi" You beamed holding your hand out but Rudy instead pulled you into a hug.
"So glad you finally made it. Maddie over here wouldn't shut up about how much she missed you" He joked.
"Awe Maddie " You said with a sympathetic pout.
"Shut up" She laughed while rolling her eyes before pulling you further into the hotel.
"Guys" She spoke out loudly to a group of people sitting on her couch causing all of their eyes to advert towards you. " This is Y/n" She announced pulling you up next to her.
You awkwardly waved, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as she practically put the spot light onto you.
"I'm Chase" One guy said leaning over the couch, holding his hand out.
"I'm Madelyn " The blonde girl next to him said standing up, walking over towards you. " it's nice to meet you" she beamed, pulling you into a hug.
'Okay so everyone is big into hugs,' you thought. You smiled widely at her before you looked over at another one walking towards you.
"I'm Jonathan Daviss, but you can call me JD" He spoke. you nodded excitedly.
"That's a cool nickname" you beamed, causing a smile to form on his face. You then looked over towards the last face on the couch.
Woah.
Now this man- he almost took your breath away. He stood up, his tall figure stretching high towards the ceiling.
"Hi, i'm Drew" He spoke, his voice the perfect tone, almost sounded like music to your ears. He had these sky blue eyes, perfectly pink lips, a little bit of fuzz on his jaw from being recently shaved, and brown hair draped over the sides of his forehead, parting perfectly down the middle. Your heart began to pound as he reached his hand out for you to shake. You hadn't realized you were staring until Madison nudged you with her elbow, bringing you out of your trance.
"Oh uhm yeah- i mean hi I'm y/n" You stuttered embarrassingly. He smiled a bright smile, his white teeth shining perfectly on his perfectly aligned face.
You sighed deeply. You never believed in love at first sight until now. How perfect this stranger was to you. If it weren't for you not wanting to humiliate yourself even more than you already were, you would've continued looking at him with admiration, but instead you turned your head to look at Maddie, trying to not to creep the poor guy out.
"okay guys I'm starving" Chase spoke up as the room filled with silence. "who wants to go eat?" He asked throwing his hands up. You grinned , already loving everyone's bubbly personality.
You sat your bag down onto the ground before tucking your hair behind your ear, watching as everyone began to make their way out the door.
"After you" Drew said, you and him being the last ones left in the room.
"Thanks" you said softly, walking out in front of him as he held the door open for you.
Who would've known that this would only the beginning of a very special relationship.
********
"Drew" You spoke out before his lips placed onto yours once again, his hand placed firmly on your thigh as your were tangled in his hair.
"Hmm" He hummed against your lips, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.
"We should tell them" You breathed out in between kisses.
"Mmm" he mumbled, his eyes closed as his lips trailed down your jaw towards your neck.
"I'm serious Drew I don't want to hide you anymore" You responded pulling away from him.
He stopped his movements, making eye contact with you.
"You sure?" He asked.
You and Drew had instantly hit it off that first weekend Madison brought you over.
It had happened the first night you had stayed the night. Everyone had fallen asleep and you and Drew stayed up for hours on hours endlessly talking about anything and everything. The sparks were flying. You were so engaged in every word that came out of his mouth, his sentences sounding like lullabies to your ears.
Before you had left you both had exchanged numbers and before you could even make it to the airport you were both texting each other. Throughout the first week you both spent every night on the phone until one had fallen asleep. It had almost became addictive the way he made you feel.
Neither of you spoke of your friendship to anyone though. Mainly wanting to take things slow but you also didn't want to upset anyone or cause any issues between Drew and Madison. He assured you it wouldn't upset anyone or cause issues but at the same time he wanted to respect your wishes and keep things a secret.
You both had been virtually seeing each other for three weeks before he flew you out for a weekend, just the two of you. You had stayed with him the whole weekend, movie nights and a lot of sex.
This week though you were invited by the whole group, and right now you were hidden off in Drew's hotel hiding from the group with Drew laid on top of you, the both of you shirtless.
"We can tell them tonight okay, i just want to enjoy the time we have together right now" He insisted. You simply nodded before leaning your head forward before placing your lips against his once again.
Drew sat up, smirking at you as he tugged on your jeans, pulling them down your thighs, exposing your pink laced panties that complimented your skin so well.
"So beautiful" Drew mumbled as his hands massaged against your thighs before reaching up towards your panties pulling them down as well. He reached over to the nightstand grabbing the condom on the top before pushing his own pants down, exposing his hardened pink shaft, the veins popping out the side.
You stared in admiration at the size as he placed the rubber over him.
"Flip over" he instructed. You quickly obliged, your face in his pillow. He tucked his arm under your waist, pulling your hips bag some to wear your bottom was pointed upwards.
You gasped loudly as you felt his tip insert into you, stretching your walls around him.
"fuck" you moaned out as he pushed into you, his hips pressed against your cheeks before he pulled back out, letting your own juices help lubricate him before he pushed back in at a faster speed.
"Fuck you're tight" Drew groaned out as he slowly pulled himself of you again, leaving just the tip in. You looked over your shoulder, smirking up at him as he looked down at you, his Adams apple poking out. Drew sighed heavily , closing his eyes for a brief second almost coming undone right then and there just from the sight of you.
He finally regained his composer, looking back down at you before pressing his hand onto the back of your head pushing your face further into the pillow before he began moving his hips once again, this time at a much faster pace.
"God Drew" you cried out as he hit your spot with each thrust, your hands balling in a fist around his sheets as you struggled to breath, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You arched your back further against Drew, giving him more access to go deeper into you, your hips moving causing your walls to tighten around him.
"Fuck" He breathed out, lowing his head some as we watched himself sliding in and out of you, his abs flexing with each thrust.
"Oh yes daddy yes "You moaned out, reaching behind you, grabbing hold of his hand that was placed on your bottom.
"You like that baby?" He asked before placing a firm smack against your left cheek. You hissed out , biting down on your bottom lip as your eyes focused on his body jerking forward over and over again, every inch of his body flexing as he moved himself in and out of you.
Since that first weekend you and Drew had spent together alone, he had learned more and more ways to work your body, especially when he realized you enjoyed it rough like him.
"Pull my hair baby" you pleaded, attempting to tug on his hand that had a firm grip on your hip while your body continued rocking back and forth.
Drew quickly obliged, reaching up to grab a hand full of your hair, pulling you back towards him, your back arched to where your arms stretched out, your hands placed against his pillows.
"God yes" You winced out, a slight stinging as he had a tight grip on your hair.
"Fuck princess" he groaned feeling his climax beginning to build. His thrusts began to speed up, your tits bouncing in the air as he continued to pound into you. You leaned up some, arm wrapping around his neck . You both began to lower, you practically sitting in his lap as he leaned back, propped up on one arm as the other had his hand wrapped against your throat. His thrusts were now at a steady but rough pace, slamming up against you as he placed sloppy kisses alongside your shoulder.
"God" He groaned out as his thrusts slowed down, turning more into grinds as his cock pulsed inside you, his warm load filling the condom. You begin rocking your hips back and forth along him riding your own high out, moaning his name out loudly as your toes curled, your climax euphoric. You climbed off of Drew, flopping your body down onto the his bed, breathing heavily as you ran your hands through your hair.
"That was amazing" you breathed out. Drew nodded, himself out of breath as well.
"I'm gonna get a shower" He responded as he stood up, his member beginning to soften. "We gotta meet everyone in two hours. Wanna join?" He asked. You smiled up at him before nodding, grabbing ahold of his reached out hand.
*****
"Finally" Madison groaned as she saw you climbing out of the black SUV that escorted you to the night club you and the gang were linking up at .
"Sorry got caught up" you responded brushing the hair out of your face as the wind blew against it.
"I can see" she chuckled, her eyes focused on the round purple hickey on your collarbone. Your eyes widened, you had almost forgotten about it. You had saw the hickey as you did your make up and Drew's shower but had forgotten to cover it.
"Who were you with?" She asked out of curiosity but you only shook your head, pretending to be shy about your actions.
"ugh okay come on everyone else is inside" She responded. You nodded before tugging slightly on your black dress as it rode up your thighs. You had your hair down with white sneakers on, a simple butterfly necklace and a skin tight strapless dress on that barely that went down a few inches on your thighs.
The music was loud, everyone definitely lit as you both walked in. Your eyes roamed the club. It was definitely a party style. There a lot of people around dancing, and neon objects glowing in the black lights. Madison guided you to the corner booth your shared friends resided in, including Drew.
""You look so cute!" Madelyn beamed as she wrapped you in a tight hug.
"You too babes" You responded, well yelled as you placed your chin on her shoulder, only to see Drew standing behind her, his eyes focused on your body. He almost looked upset. Seeming how you were still on the low about your relationship you didn't confront him, but you did check him out from afar. He stood on the side next to JD black denim jeans with a white striped button up collared shirt, with his signature gold chain around his neck and a black watch on his wrist.
Despite just getting your back blown out by Drew, you had to leave before anyone came searching for you so you didn't get to see Drew dressed up, the last image you had of him was of him in a towel and his wet hair slicked back.
He was looking so good at this point you had to distance yourself from him before you made it obvious of your secret.
"Come dance" Madelyn pleaded tugging on your arm.
"I need to be drunk before i get onto the dance floor" You joked. Madelyn though took you serious and walked over to the bar, ordering at least two shots for everyone since you were each going to be getting an Uber back to the hotels.
"Okay drink up" She responded holding both yours and her shot in the air. You quickly glanced over towards your secret boyfriend who was watching you intensely before you tossed your head back opening your throat, letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat.
"phew" you said, a shiver following shortly after.
"Okay, One more " Madelyn insisted. You didn't plan to get shit faced of course , but you were definitely interested in a good time so you obliged, repeating the same action again, this time the liquids going down a bit easier. You both stood for a second in silence before she shook her head.
"I think one more with do us justice " She grinned. You chuckled, already feeling a slight buzz coming as the alcohol spread through your blood stream.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" You heard someone mumble from behind you. You looked over to see Drew standing behind you. You furrowed your brows together. How the hell did he get over there so fast?
"Don't " you mumbled before looking down at the table trying to avoid his gaze. "You're making it obvious" You responded before taking a step away, turning your back towards him.
Unfortunately you didn't notice how much those words actually upset Drew. IT had almost felt like he was an embarrassment to you with how much effort you put in to hiding him so he walked away, finding his way back next to JD.
"You okay man?" JD asked as he saw the obvious frown on Drew's face.
"Yeah man" He mumbled as he looked across the both of them, watching you quickly gulp away yet another shot of alcohol, bursting into laughter shortly after with Madelyn. He shook his head in disappointment. Of course he wanted you to have fun but he just didn't want you to get so waisted you end up doing something you regret and him not being able to help you since you didn't want him to show his affection towards you in front of everyone.
"Want a shot?" Drew asked glancing over at JD who also looked not too amused at the moment with the environment and in need of some lighting up. They both watched you and Madelyn make your way to the dance floor, merging in with the crowd as the quickly took their first shot, both of them sighing heavily as they attempted to mask the burning feeling.
You immediately began swaying your hips to the upbeat music, the alcohol coursing through your body, giving you an almost out of body type feeling, something you usually didn't get unless you were in bed with Drew.
You didn't intend to jump into the party that fast. after 2 songs Chase had came by with more shots, unaware to the previous t3 you both had taken but neither of you denied them, quickly throwing your head back, wiping the drips off your chin as you looked over at Drew who surprisingly paid you no attention. You dancing slowed down as you realized the group Drew was associating with.
You could see JD and Rudy with Drew which was not an issue. it was the 3 bimbos standing with them too, one in particular standing too close for your comfort towards Drew, her index finger twirling in a poorly curled strand of hair.
You rolled your eyes, jealously now running through you. It was obviously intensified from the alcohol but you wanted to drag him away from the girls and show those girls exactly who he belonged to but you knew you couldn't say anything considering you and him were a secret.
"Hi" You heard from behind you. It was a tall brunette guy, pretty stocky with what looked to be hazel eyes and curly brown hair. At least that what you guessed since the dance floor was only lit up from black lights above you.
"Hi" You said with a friendly smile before turning back around, a frown forming as you noticed Drew laughing at whatever the girl closest to him just said.
"You got a name?" The guy asked, dancing behind you. You turned your head, almost ready to tell him to piss off until you glanced over towards Drew who still had not even given you a glance.
"Y/n" You responded as you turned your body completely around, facing towards him.
You studied his face. He looked cute, or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding your judgment. To your drunken eyes, he favored Timothee Chalamet to you, which was some one who was a sight for sore eyes.
- but, never the less, he wasn't Drew.
The guy mentioned his name back to you but between the alcohol and the music , you didn't hear him clearly. You looked to your side to see Chase and Madelyn in their own little world so you shrugged your shoulders, turning back towards the tall boy.
"You come here with someone?" He asked as he took a step closer, his body swaying along with yours to the music. You glanced over your shoulder towards Drew, the same scenario playing as earlier . You rolled your eyes becoming agitated with Drew before you looked back forward trying not to be obvious.
"I thought i did but it's looking like they didn't come in with me" You said, your lips close to his ear as he leaned forward to hear you.
"Huh" He responded leaning back. "That's to bad. You're very beautiful" He responded. You grinned widely, enjoying the attention.
The song changed, turning to a slower song, a more sensual vibe to it. You turned around, swaying your hips up against the guy as his hand wrapped around your waist.
You usually wouldn't do this, but between the alcohol and your jealousy towards Drew, you were enjoying every second of it in hopes Drew would catch on and realize what he was losing.
And surprisingly , that's exactly what happened.
Drew tried to play things your way. He tried to pretend that there was nothing going on between the two of you. He even gave other women attention to make it believable but it was all fake smiles and laughs when really all he wanted was to hold you. He did try his best though, that is until he looked up to check on you only to see your body being held by another guy, your ass pressed against the guys crotch as he practically dry humped you from behind.
Now Drew didn't drink as much as you did, but he did have 1 to 2 shots , enough to help spark a fire inside of him, rage flowing through his veins. Drew didn't hesitate to make his way over to you, his mind only focused on removing the guy from his girl.
"Y/n what the fuck" He spat out as he tugged on your hand, trying to remove you from him. Your eyes widened, guilt instantly flowing through you. You didn't mean for any of this to happen and seeing Drew standing in front of you fuming, you couldn't help but to feel embarrassed by your actions.
"Man back off alright she's just having a good time" The guy said with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.
"Fuck off " Drew scolded before looking back at you, completely brushing the guy off.
"This is really how you want to sell it ?" He said, his voice louder than normal because of the music, but those surrounding him including Chase and Madelyn hearing.
"Oh go fuck yourself Drew" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You began to march off of the dance floor, making your way towards the table you were previously at, leaving the stranger stranded.
"REal mature Y/n" He responded following closely behind you. The rest of the group followed behind, beyond confused as to why the two of you would even be arguing like this.
"Oh but you weren't doing the same thing over here with the chick ? Laughing at every little thing she said" You spat out.
He threw his hands up.
"Y/n i was trying to play your little game of secrets" He argued back.
"Wait what secrets?" Madison spat out. The both of you stared at each other, unsure who was going or not going to spill the truth.
"No point in hiding it anymore Y/n" Drew argued. You furrowed your brows in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest as Drew spoke. Which he was absolutely right which upset you anymore.
"Somebody better start talking in point two second or -"
"We're dating" you interrupted, looking over towards Madison.
Everyone's jaw dropped except for JD's, his response was jut of him shaking his head.
"What!?" Madison yelled out in shock.
"Like talking?" She asked, looking between the two of you. " Or like, dating dating?"
"More like dating dating" Rudy butted in, pushing his index finger into a circle he made with his other hand, indicating intercourse.
You quickly placed your head in your hand with embarrassment.
"No fucking way" Chase responded, a wide grin on his face.
"Bro why didn't you tell me?" Chase yelled out placing his hand on Drew's shoulder.
"We didn't want anyone mad at us or like, i don't know it ruin this friendship we all have" You responded, lowering your head in disappointment.
"Y/n are you delusional? Why would that make any of us mad ?" Madison replied with a wide grin on his face.
"You guys, i called it" JD finally spoke, a cocky smirk across his face.
"Whaattt? " you responded looking over at him with confusion.
"You guys have been clung to each other since you first met. I'm not stupid" He laughed. You shook your head, a grin forming on your face.
"Okay the cats out of the bag so you guys don't have to continue pretending okay? " Madelyn responded. "Can we please get back to dancing?" She pleaded. They all nodded before the group once again went their separate ways, leaving you and Drew alone at the table.
"I'm sorry" You responded stepping closer towards him, placing your hand on his.
"ME too" He responded looking down at you.
"I kind of want to get out of here, yanno" You said with a smirk on your face. He grinned back, nodding his head.
"agreed".
*****
Hope you guys liked!
✨feedback as well as a like and reblog is always appreciated 💗✨
#drew starkey#obx#drew starkey fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagine#smut#obx fiction#drew starkey dirty imagine#drew starkey smut
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pov? 👀
Answering two asks with this one! (That's probably why this piece ended up being so loooong, but I doubt you guys mind.)The POV comes at the end, with a different view on what happened in this piece. But first, enjoy Bailey getting beaten to a bloody pulp.
CW for verbal abuse, physical abuse, gaslighting, manipulative whumper, beating.
As always, let me know if I missed anything in the tags, and let me know if you'd like to join the taglist.
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“And just where do you think you’re going?”
Bailey flinched at the sound of Supervillain’s silky voice. They were early, and they were angry. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Bailey slowly turned to face the person they once thought of as their closest friend, adjusting the duffel bag on their shoulder. “I’m leaving,” they said, trying to keep their voice steady and strong. It sounded as fragile and weak as a baby bird to their own ears.
Supervillain raised an eyebrow. “I can see that. You didn’t answer my question. Where are you going, little poppet?”
Bailey suppressed a wince at the nickname. Once it had been an inside joke, a nod to Bailey’s powers and their love of history. Now? It was just another reminder that they were little more than a puppet for Supervillain to control.
But not any more.
“Away from here,” they said. “I’m leaving, Supervillain. Leaving the group, and leaving you. This isn’t what I signed up for.”
Supervillain walked closer, their shoes clicking on the floor with every step. They were backing Bailey into a corner, and they both knew it.
Bailey should have run. They should have taken the few moments it took Supervillain to close the distance to open the door and start bolting, start making their way to their destination.
But… this person was supposed to be their friend. And even after everything, all the pain and manipulation and lies, Bailey still saw the person their friend used to be when they looked at Supervillain. The one who made stupid jokes, who taught Bailey how to use their powers, who told them that they would change the world together. And that was all the opening Supervillain needed.
They set one hand on the door that Bailey had been opening and pushed it shut, caging Bailey between themself and the wall. “Poppet. Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been unhappy? I could have helped! You didn’t need to overreact and make such a dramatic move like this!”
“I did tell you!” Bailey yelled, pushing against Supervillain’s chest. It gave them enough space to move back a couple paces—but now Supervillain was between them and the door. “Over and over and over, but you never listened! You made it all about you, how I made you feel instead of how I felt! When I’m the one who got hurt!”
Supervillain frowned. “Don’t make this my fault. I was helping you! I taught you how to use your powers, brought you to my home, gave you all these resources! Yes, sometimes training got a little out of hand, but that’s why I have a healer on staff! I always made sure that you were healed, didn’t I? I used those resources on you, made Healer fix you up, when they had other things they could have done with that energy. You could stand to show a little gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” Bailey asked incredulously. “Why should I be thankful that you had me healed when you were the one that hurt me in the first place!? That’s not helping; that’s not even a zero sum game! That’s practically torture, putting me through that! You know what being healed feels like!”
Supervillain frowned harder and started walking towards them, but Bailey wasn’t done. “And it wasn’t training, Supervillain!” they said, voice practically a shout by now. “You let the others use me as target practice! You strung me up at your parties as a plaything! The guests couldn’t leave without making sure to leave a mark on me! How the fuck is that anything I should be thankful for?!”
“You should be thankful that you got any attention from those people, poppet,” Supervillain said quietly. “And that they were happy with you by the time they left. You were the one who messed up, made a mess of yourself and Ice Queen in the middle of a party for you. Villains don’t just forget things like that!”
“I only did that because you were the one having them push drinks into my hand!” Bailey yelled, ignoring how Supervillain’s words echoed their own doubts. “Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about that?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly been impressing me with your intelligence lately,” Supervillain said with a sneer. “Where were you planning to go, hm? All of your contacts are through me! I say one word, and they tell me exactly where you are.”
“No they won’t,” Bailey said, sounding braver than they felt. They gave Supervillain a vicious smile. “Not if they’re heroes rather than villains.”
Supervillain actually laughed at that. “Heroes? Oh, that’s even more stupid than your usual ideas! Why would a hero listen to you? You’re a villain, Bailey! They’d just attack you on sight! You think any hero would help someone like you?”
“Yes,” Bailey said, standing firm against Supervillain’s words. “They would. They have.”
Seeing that story in the papers was what had given them the idea to go to the heroes in the first place. Someone labeled as a villain had been taken into custody, but had been released and was now working with the local heroes rather than against them.
“Oh, that little mixup with the wolf whisperer?” Supervillain said dismissively. “That’s small-time. You, dear heart, are far more dangerous than some woman who can talk to animals. You’ve proved it in your fights! The most she ever did was property damage. You’ve put heroes in the hospital. You really think they’re going to listen to a word you say? They’d just put you down like the little mongrel you are.”
Bailey didn’t waver. They knew that was a possibility.
It was still a better option than staying here.
“I’m leaving, Supervillain,” they said again. They walked towards the door.
Supervillain grabbed the strap of their duffel bag as they walked past. “No, you’re not.” They slammed Bailey into the wall, and Bailey’s ears rang with the impact.
“You really think I’d just let you leave? After all the work I put into you?” they hissed.
Bailey snarled. They dropped the duffel bag—it was just in their way, and leaving was more important than taking their stuff with them—and kneed Supervillain in the guts. “I don’t care what you think!” They had worked too hard for the courage to leave. They weren’t going to let Supervillain scare them into staying this time.
They moved to get to the door again, but Supervillain grabbed them by the arm, fingers digging painfully into the muscles. Supervillain twisted their arm behind them, using the leverage to slam their head against the wall.
Bailey’s head throbbed from the impact, but they ignored it. If training with Supervillain had taught them anything, it was how to push through pain. They stepped towards Supervillain to decrease the pressure on their arm, then twisted to elbow their former friend in the face. They twisted until they were holding Supervillain’s arm rather than the other way around, and pulled Supervillain into a joint lock that should have broken their elbow.
‘Should have,’ because Supervillain didn’t exactly cooperate. At the last moment, Supervillain turned intangible. Instead of Bailey’s momentum breaking Supervillain’s elbow, it threw Bailey off balance as they went through their target rather than making contact.
Bailey recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. Supervillain was on the attack now. They stayed intangible until the last possible moment, making sure that their attacks were impossible to block. They landed punches that knocked the wind out of Bailey and threw them even more off balance.
Well. Supervillain wanted to bring their powers into the fight? Bailey could play that game. They started pulling everything within reach—their duffel bag, Supervillain’s decorations, even some of the furniture—into a swirling cyclone around themself.
Supervillain snarled and threw themself back into attacking Bailey. They were fast, and they were angry. It took all of Bailey’s concentration to fend them off.
That was Bailey’s downfall, in the end. They were so focused on Supervillain that they forgot about the others in the building. Their telekinetic storm kept the others at bay for a while, but not forever.
When the henchmen finally had Bailey restrained, they had used up almost all of their strength for their powers. The last bit went into throwing the only item they could reach—a pillow—at Supervillain, which bounced harmlessly off their chest.
Supervillain walked up to Bailey where they struggled in the henchmen’s arms, as calmly as if they hadn’t just been fighting. That was the scariest part: how unaffected Supervillain looked. Bailey was panting and could feel a sheen of sweat forming on their skin. Supervillain’s clothes were barely even wrinkled.
Supervillain got in close, until their face was practically touching Bailey’s. “You are mine,” they hissed. “I made you. Without me, you’d be just some stray with a gift you hadn’t even scratched the surface of. And this is how you repay me?”
They slapped Bailey. When Bailey just kept glaring, they slapped them again.
Bailey spat in their face.
That had the intended effect of pissing Supervillain off. Unfortunately, Bailey had failed to take into account just how pissed off Supervillain would be.
Supervillain wrapped a hand around Bailey’s throat and started to squeeze. Bailey couldn’t even claw at the hand, as they were still being restrained by the henchmen.
“Bad dog,” Supervillain said.
The first punch caught Bailey on the cheekbone. The second punch caught their other eye.
They stopped counting after that.
Everything got mixed up after that. Bailey definitely remembered that the henchmen’s grip was the only thing keeping them up eventually, and how Supervillain ordered the henchmen to drop Bailey. They remembered the sickening sound of bones snapping as Supervillain stomped on their shin, but they couldn’t tell you if that was before or after Supervillain kicked them in the ribs.
Eventually, Bailey was little more than a bloody pulp staining Supervillain’s floor.
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Healer hated being called in for unscheduled visits by Supervillain. It almost invariably meant that something had gone wrong.
They paused at the door to Supervillain’s mansion. They closed their eyes, reminded themself that they had no choice in the matter, and steeled themself for whatever might lay inside.
It… was bad.
Healer recognized the person on the floor, but only barely. Their face was hard to make out with two black eyes. But no one else in this place had that haircut, or wore that kind of outfit.
It was Bailey—or rather, Poppet, as Supervillain had named them. The person in a bloody heap on the floor was the sweet kid that Supervillain had coerced and brainwashed into working for them.
“Well?”
Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear. It was Supervillain.
“Will they survive?” Supervillain’s tone was smooth as the flat of a blade, the kind of tone they adopted when they were truly angry.
The kid on the floor cried silently.
Healer wasn’t stupid. They could put two and two together, and they knew what answer Supervillain was hoping for with that question. Bailey had finally pushed too far; they’d become more trouble than they were worth.
Supervillain was trying to get rid of them.
“I only just got here,” Healer said. They kept their tone professional with an effort. “Let me see.”
They walked closer and started examining Bailey with their powers. A severe concussion; multiple broken ribs and associated flail chest; shattered tibia and fibula. Those were the most pressing issues. There were also multiple contusions on their… everywhere, more or less, as well as older damage on their back. If that wasn’t from one of Supervillain’s “parties,” like the one they had the misfortune of being invited to not so long ago, Healer would eat their entire medical bag.
The short version was this: the kid was in bad shape. They could be alright if they got some medical attention, but without it? Healer wouldn’t give them more than a day or two at most.
But… that wasn’t what Supervillain wanted to hear.
Healer had an idea.
They looked up at Supervillain and shook their head. “They’re too badly injured,” they said. They lied. “Unless you want them healed, they’ll be dead before the end of the day.”
Supervillain gave a pleased hum and a satisfied little smirk at that. They nodded to their right hand henchman, who snapped to attention like a well trained dog being called by its master.
“Take a few men,” Supervillain said, “and dump them somewhere I won’t have to deal with them. A dumpster, perhaps, so they can go out with the rest of the trash.”
The henchman nodded, and gestured to several others. Bailey cried soft, heartbreaking little sobs as they were lifted and carried out.
With Supervillain’s approval, Healer left as well. They walked purposefully—not running, never running, don’t run from a predator because it will give chase—and caught up with the henchmen.
“May I have a moment?” they asked, gesturing to where the men had loaded Bailey into the trunk of a car.
Supervillain’s right hand man nodded absently. They knew Healer was a strange one, always wanting a moment with the ones Supervillain had commanded be put down. “As long as you don’t heal them. Make it quick, though.”
Healer leaned in close and whispered in Bailey’s ear. “This is the best I can do. Get out of here, and may you find somewhere kinder.”
They had done what they could. They had made sure the kid had a chance.
Now it was up to Bailey to make the most of it.
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Taglist:
@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @appleejuice @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @temporary-whump-sideblog @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-des-lore @equestrianwritingstuff @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway
#with bloody outstretched hands#bailey the villain#bailey aka poppet#asks answered#ask game#whump ask game#beating#supervillain whumper#villain whumpee#hero villain whump#villain whump#manipulative whumper#abusive whumper#gaslighting#emotional abuse#physical abuse#verbal abuse#broken bones#defiant whumpee
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It's pie. And sorry if I'm bothering you with this omegaverse stuff but. Please could I get a highschool Eden, breeding/ knotting/ marking the tiny omega feminine PC from before infront of a beta Leighton who thought he could take them away. Bonus if Bailey is pinning them down and making him watch by force
NEVER apologise for giving me an excuse to write Eden knotting the PC. It is always the time to write Eden knotting the PC. Also, anyone for the headcanon of demisexual Bailey?
NSFW below
You're covered in marks everyday. Eden's marks, to be specific. In a shithole like this, it was important for an alpha to mark their omega, so that others wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Especially with how pretty your are. How your hips attract glances, people watching your lips as you talk, sniffing the air around you when you go into pre-heat. But Eden had made it abundantly clear you belonged to him.
So then why was fucking Leighton hovering over you at lunch, sitting unreasonably close and trying to touch you. Can't he fucking see you pulling away? Can't that fucking beta smell how uncomfortable you are? Eden can, his nose sensitive to your scent.
"You gonna do anything about that?" Bailey asks from next to him, and Eden grunts. Marching over, he pulls you up by the arm, not caring if you spilt you drink and pulls you into his arms.
"Are you stupid, Leighton? This one's taken," he seethes, growl rising in his throat when the cocky bastard smirks.
"Oh? You must be a terrible alpha then, everyone knows how scared of you they are," the slimy beta lounges in his seat as you look up at Eden panicked.
"I've never said that!" you yelp out, clutching Eden's arm and giving him a pleading look.
He knows that. He knows you love him, knows that you're his little omega. You always have been.
"Come on," he says picking up your tray and bringing you to sit in between him and Bailey across the cafeteria. Bailey ruffles your hair as you sit and Eden allows it. He knows Bailey has his eyes on money rather than sex, anyways.
You snuggle into his side while you eat, but he can't bring himself to calm down. This was the third time he'd caught Leighton getting touchy, something had to be done about it.
When you get up to clear your tray he turns to Bailey, face stern.
"You free after school?"
You're content as you walk with Eden, arm wound around his. He said he needed help with something, dragging you towards the English room after your final lesson (which he had mysteriously missed), but you know him well enough to know you're about to get wrecked.
He's been tense since lunch, Leighton's comments probably running though his head and fueling his paranoia. No matter how much you tried to tell your mate that he was the only one, doubts could settle in easily. And he got like this, possessive and horny. Not that you were complaining.
He leads you in, pulling at your uniform and revealing your hole, never one to beat around the bush. All you can do is bend over the desk he pins you to, sighing when he slides a finger into your slick heat. Juices begin to gather as he fingers you, your moans muffled by your hands covering your mouth. People were still passing by in the corridors, it wouldn't do to be heard. Even though they could probably smell the arousal coming from both of you.
You're on the verge of cumming when the door flies open, making you yelp and cover yourself. It's Bailey, dragging in a very beat up Leighton. Blood pools from the dark haired student's nose, clothes ripped and stained, gag in his mouth and arms bound by some old rope.
Eden pins you back down to the desk before you can ask what's going on, Bailey forcing Leighton to kneel as he kicks the door closed.
"This one's mine," Eden growls into your ear as he starts pushing his cock into your wet hole. You can barley move with his weight pressing into your back, only able to gasp at how full you feel.
Bailey takes out a cigarette and lights it up, kicking Leighton to the floor as he does so.
"What kind of delusional twat do you have to be to think you have a chance there?" Bailey questions, taking a drag. "Those two have been mated since the start, you know? Ever since they both presented."
Bailey would know, he was there in the room when your heat had struck, violently being wrestled away by Eden who had claimed you without hesitation.
You scrunch your eyes shut, half from pleasure, half from the embarrassment of being taken in front of others. Eden pulls your hands from your mouth, kissing your neck as he roughly thrusts in and out, always hitting that one spot. It was hard for him to miss any parts of your insides, cock so big you always felt full to the brim.
"Let me hear you, love. Let that slimy toad know exactly who makes you feel like this."
You sob out, unable to hold in the sounds from how intense it all feels. You can feel his knot building, catching on your walls as he pulls out.
"That's it, say my name," Eden encourages you, bending over to places kisses on your neck.
Leighton looks furious on the floor, trying to get up only to be kicked in the gut again by Bailey. Grasping the beta's hair, Bailey forces him to look, blowing smoke into his face.
Your tiny body rocks against the desk with every thrust, voice calling out Eden's name as your orgasm builds. You look absolutely fucked out, like your were having the best time of your life getting impaled on the cock of that delinquent.
You would be much better off with Leighton, the beta thinks. Leighton has money. Has excellent grades. Doesn't dissappear into the woods and behave like a feral caveman. But here you are begging for that brute to knot you.
Eden's knot pushes past your entrance, snuggly fitting and making him grind into your hole instead of thrusting. It takes only one or two grinds for you to cum, whimpering and writhing as you try to milk him to completion.
It works, warm feeling of his seed filling you up familiar and soothing. For good measure, Eden pulls you up into his chest, teeth digging into the sent glands on your neck while his cock empties inside you.
Your mate pulls you into his lap as he sits on one of the seats behind the desk, bodies joined together for the next however long it would take. He kisses your forehead, gently whispering praise to you while you catch your breath.
You hide your face in his chest, embarrassed at the audience now that you were coming down from your high. Especially since Bailey had watched - ew he was like a brother to you. At least you can tell he hadn't gotten turned on.
Speaking of, the smoker begins rifling through Leighton's pockets, pulling out a wallet and taking all the money within. Its rather a lot for a student.
"Hope you learned your lesson," Bailey takes one last drag of the cigarette before crushing it under his feet. A nod from Eden has him taking Leighton by the collar and sitting him up.
Eden stretches his legs a little, making you shuffle to keep the knot from moving and hurting you.
"You're gonna leave them alone now, or we'll do more than take your money and bloody your nose. Your parents know about that little photo collection in your locker?"
Leighton's eyes fly wide at Eden's threat, muffled yell angry behind the gag.
Your mate strokes your hair as Bailey starts to drag Leighton from the room, almost lulling you to sleep as he kisses you again.
"Good omega."
#degrees of lewdity eden#degrees of lewdity bailey#degrees of lewdity leighton#spill your guts#pie anon#omegaverse#younger au
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Geraskier modern AU with Chrismassy vibes for the wonderful @thetinymm who suggested “Hot Drinks” as a christmas idea!
____________________________
Jaskier shivered and wrapped his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He was already wearing Geralt’s hoody over his own clothes and he had a second blanket around his legs. Geralt was just one of those people that refused to turn the heating up unless there were literal snowflakes in the air. It drove Jaskier crazy, but at least it gave him a good excuse to steal his best friend’s clothes. They were so much warmer than Jaskier’s more fashionable kind and it helped feed his little daydream that Geralt was secretly in love with him. Every year at Christmas he wished on every star that it would be the year that he would be blessed with Christmas magic.
They were even housemates for god’s sake.
When was it his turn? He’d pined, he’d stared dramatically out the window, he’d even whined about Geralt to his other best friend, Aiden, at a coffee shop. He’d tried singing his love of Geralt whilst walking alone down the street at night. He’d volunteered to be an elf at the local shopping centre’s Santa’s Grotto.
And yet Geralt was still not his boyfriend and he was running out of Christmas tropes. He’d considered that maybe he should try dating Aiden instead. That was what happened in the movies. The protagonist was always in love with the brooding hot guy but ended up dating their best friend, but Aiden had laughed it off. Lambert had been less forgiving about the idea but Jaskier was getting desperate. He’d tried getting over Geralt, he really had but it was hopeless.
Geralt was his bestest best friend in the whole wide world and he was so ardently in love with him.
He whined and pulled the blanket over his head. Stupid, sexy, arsehole of a best friend. Geralt needed to learn what a radiator was. “Geralt!” He yelled.
He heard Geralt’s clattering in the kitchen but there was no response.
“Oi! Bastard. I know you can hear me!”
Geralt appeared like a fucking ninja in the doorway. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he was drying his hands on a towel. It shouldn’t have been so sexy but Jaskier had not drunk enough today and he was thirsty.
“What do you want, Jaskier?”
“Ah umm… Geralt. Hi…” he spluttered as he tried so desperately not to stare at Geralt’s arms, but they were just… there… being all… arms.
Geralt sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead before turning back to go into the kitchen.
“Oh no, wait!” Jaskier cried.
“What?”
Jaskier pouted at his best friend. “I’m cold!” Geralt opened his mouth to speak but Jaskier cut him off. “And before you say anything, if I put on any more layers then I won’t have anything left in my wardrobe… or yours.”
“I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”
Jaskier beamed. “Oh ho ho! Do we have whipped cream?” Geralt nodded. “And marshmallows?” Another nod. “Oooh what about Baileys?”
Geralt rolled his eyes. “It’s a week night and you have work tomorrow.”
“It’s Christmas!!” Jaskier whined. “Almost,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “Come on, Geralt.”
“One drink?”
Jaskier winked. “One drink.”
Geralt disappeared back into the kitchen and Jaskier snuggled back into his blankets. This was it. He was going to tell Geralt how he felt. He was going to stop waiting for his Christmas miracle and just fucking do it. What was the worst thing that could happen?
Sure Geralt could kick him out and he’d be homeless but it wouldn’t be the first time.
Oh god, who was he kidding? He’d be miserable. The only reason he’d survived the first time was because Geralt had let him crash on the sofa until they’d eventually just moved into a two bedroom place together.
He groaned and buried his head under the blankets. He stayed under there until he felt the sofa sink next to him and Geralt pulled at the edges of the blanket.
“Jask?”
“Hmm,” he grumbled and pouted at his friend. “I was warm under there.”
Geralt rolled his eyes but he had that fond exasperated smile on his face that Jaskier was so in love with. “Hot Chocolate?”
Geralt was holding two mugs, both piled high with whipped cream, marshmallows and even a flake! Jaskier’s was covered in cinnamon just the way he liked it. Geralt’s was plain. Jaskier took his cup and hummed happily as the heat almost burned his hands. He tentatively took a sip, getting cream all over his nose, and moaned. “Oh god, Geralt. This is amazing!”
Geralt’s cheeks were all rosy, probably from the chill in the room. “You, umm. You have cream….” he trailed off.
Jaskier wrinkled his nose and tried to lick it off. Geralt sighed and moved forward to wipe it off with his thumb. Jaskier’s breath hitched as Geralt’s long silvery hair tickled his cheek. Fuck, he was so close. He could pretend to fall and kiss him, then it would be easy to laugh it off if Geralt didn’t like it… he could… oh god, Geralt’s lips were just so close. Jaskier was going to pine himself to death, it would astound doctor’s everywhere.
Geralt hummed. “You alright?”
“Mhmm…”
Geralt frowned. “You sure?”
“God I just really want to kiss you right now.” The words burst free before he could stop them and he had barely even touched his drink. “Fuck. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I mean. Oh bollocks.”
Geralt pulled back, his gorgeous amber eyes blazing as he searched Jaskier’s gaze furiously. “You didn’t mean it?”
“No.” Jaskier insisted too quickly, blatantly lying. “I mean… well. No.”
“No you didn’t mean it? or no you meant it?”
Jaskier wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. God he was such an idiot. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for fuck’s sake? “Yes?”
Geralt rolled his eyes and went to move from the sofa but Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s wrist, almost spilling both their drinks in the process. “No, wait. I meant it. If you want me to mean it? If not we can just forget about it.”
He took a huge gulp of his hot chocolate to calm his nerves. The warmth of the hot chocolate mixed with the subtle burn of the Baileys was just exactly what he’d needed on this cold wintery eve, and Geralt always did make the best hot chocolate.
“I don’t want to forget about it.” Geralt admitted in a whisper.
Jaskier just stared at his friend in stunned silence, a rare occurrence. “Geralt?”
Geralt sighed deeply and sat back down on the sofa, all too close and too far away at the same time. He tilted his head and watched Jaskier carefully for a moment before taking Jaskier’s mug and setting both drinks aside. “You, umm. You have cream….” he trailed off again but he was smirking this time. His fingers cupped Jaskier’s cheek and Jaskier honestly felt like he was going to pass out from yearning.
“Where?”
Geralt’s eyes flicked down to his lips and Jaskier couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes and leant in just as Geralt did and finally their lips met.
It was Jaskier’s Christmas miracle at last.
#the witcher#geraskier#Jaskier#Geralt#winter prompts#christmas prompt#getting together#mutual pining#wolfie's witcher writing
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