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keeksandgigz · 3 months

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somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!reader #eddie munson fluff

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angelicdanvers · 4 months

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BRACELETS | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname

taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3

sixteen.

it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.

she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.

she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?

the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips.

glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted.

they all seemed to be in glee.

snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.

“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.

all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.

y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.

she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.

“hey, y/n?”

the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.

“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile.

luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“

“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.

“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.

“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”

luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”

“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”

“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.

a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”

exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!”

the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.

she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.

luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.

and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.

the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.

throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.

luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.

subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.

he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.

“may i call my dad?”

“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office.

the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.

“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”

she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank.

“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.

stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore.

luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.

“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”

y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”

“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”

y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”

“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”

his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”

y/n was not expecting that.

“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.

she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same.

together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.

somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.

“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”

“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.

y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”

luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”

y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”

his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”

the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.

after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.

luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”

y/n laughed. luke froze.

he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.

“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”

the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.

even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.

“hey, y/n?”

“yes, luke?”

“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”

now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.

“but, i��m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.

“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”

y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”

luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.

“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”

luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.

their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #charlie bushnell #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo x you #charlie bushnell x reader

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ninadove · 19 days

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Felix being Adrien’s flawed copy is good and smart and beautiful and a fandom favourite but honestly. Honestly. We’re not making good enough use of the information canon gave us. Namely that:

Felix is the Graham de Vanily heir, while Adrien is the son of a nouveau riche (ergo a commoner) and a prodigal child: the ultimate sign of his family’s decadence is that he has to work (ew).

Felix was born out of jealousy towards his cousin: Colt would have designed (or at least, meant to design) his child to be superior in all aspects.

Felix wasn’t always this serious, ring-stealing, people-snapping antagonist we have grown to love and cherish: at heart, he’s a theatre kid and a magician. He’s associated with the sun and the colour white and golden tones, while Adrien is linked to the moon and black and silver accents.

For all his identity stealing shenanigans, Felix has a strong sense of self (see: Representation) while Adrien has no clue who he actually is and/or wants to be when he grows up (see: the entire series).

What I’m saying is: Adrien as Felix’s first draft. Adrien who grew up in the spotlight, but never shone as bright as his noble, curious, quick-witted cousin; Adrien who loved Felix’s stories and plays and magic tricks, and does not understand why his cousin grew quieter as the years went by; Adrien desperately trying to fill in the blanks with jokes and puns, only for them to fall flat, because he simply isn’t Felix.

Adrien as Felix’s first draft.

#And I’m not just saying that because it’s their dynamic in True To Your Heart #I need to see this #Bonus points if Felix still thinks he’s a pale copy of the original #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #felix graham de vanily #senticousins #random ramblings

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icyg4l · 2 months

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PAC: Why Did You Reincarnate as a Woman?

For this Pick-A-Pile, I am going to continue with my Women’s History Month series, where I uplift, inspire and/or relate to women on this platform. This reading is a bit of a life path reading and a past life reading but it’s more general. So take whatever resonates and leave what doesn’t. Without further ado, please pick a pile!

Left-to-Right (1-3):

Pile 1: If you chose this pile, this is definitely for my girls who like to move around. I think that you’re someone who was meant to be rich, you definitely have expensive taste. In a past life, I think that you were into the esoteric world and into the arts. You dibbled and dabbled in a little bit of this and that. But I don’t think that you were able to find stability in your past life. But you had a clear vision for yourself. So this time, you’ve reincarnated as a woman to gain financial stability and independence from the debts of your past life. In past lives, you could have been non-committal or always wanting to rush into things. And as a result, you reincarnated without ever having a satisfied spirit. As women, we are expected to be the nurturers and sidekicks to men. But you, Pile One, are definitely the main character. You’re a free spirit and a force to be reckoned with. You follow the beat of your own drum. But remember that the goal is to feel happy with where you already are. Your spirit has a lot of fire but don’t burn it out trying to be everywhere all at once. You were born to be the non-comformist and that’s okay.

Signs: Gemini, Taurus, Leo, Sagittarius.

Cards Used: 7 of Cups, 5 of Wands, Queen of Discs, 9 of Discs, 2 of Discs, Ace of Discs, The High Priestess, The Hierophant, 3 of Swords, The Star, 4 of Discs, The World, 8 of Wands and Justice.

extras: beyhive. saweetie. white nails. green eyes. born with heart issues. short-term career path. life path number five. pirates. bohemian style. theatre kid. paint. big city girl.

Pile Two: If you chose this pile, you’re definitely someone who is described as a pure spirit. What’s funny is I channeled those Snapped interviews of people saying their friend was “the light in a dark room”. You have the tendency to make friends easily. You’re very introverted. That’s how it’s supposed to be. In a past life, you could have suffered from depression; perhaps you were in a mental hospital. You were burdened with a reputation that wasn’t true to your character. You were an outcast. Maybe you could predict death & people despised you for it. I think you felt unloved and misunderstood. This life is supposed to be a clean slate for you, Pile Two. I think that there was a lot of gossip about you. But this time, you carried over the scars from being a target of gossip. Maybe you feel like you don’t really have any friends. Maybe you have a weird relationship with trust & you end up trusting the wrong people/none at all. Maybe you keep people at an arms length but you’re still a friend to all. I think that you reincarnated as a woman to reclaim your power and the right to be here on this Earth. You make the world go round, Pile Two. Don’t forget that. Never feel guilty for having fun.

Cards Used: Justice, The Chariot, Knight of Wands, Page of Cups, 3 of Cups, 3 of Discs, King of Wands, 10 of Wands, Queen of Swords, The Magician, Ace of Swords, 9 of Cups, Ace of Cups (RX), Ten of Swords, The High Priestess, 7 of Cups, Queen of Cups and The World (RX).

Signs: Sagittarius, Scorpio, Aquarius, Libra.

extras: nurse. break my soul. ellie goulding. codependency. microsoft. computer geek. smiley emoji. venusian. dmv. pills. fasting. making friends with outcasts. working with autistic children/elderly people.

Pile Three: If you chose this pile, you’re probably a person who struggles with their faith. This doesn’t come from nowhere & it’s not new to you. It’s in fact true to you. Today, you’re described as someone who is rebellious or maybe even lazy, but somehow you never complain about your circumstances. You’re like Trish De La Rosa. You keep a job! But in a past life, you were like a moody teenager. You never really saw the good in things. You were very negative. You held grudges and shunned people if they pissed you off. You could have been a gang member or you were an advocate for civil rights. Either way, your mindset was very black-and-white, no in between. As a result, I feel like you can struggle with following the rules today. I also feel like you have the tendency to be anti-religion/anti-Christianity, which is the basis as to why you struggle with your faith. Someone could have told you that you had “loose” ways as a child and this lit a fire under your ass. Misogyny in the church, but also in general is a reason why you have this fighter spirit. You have a fighter spirit, Pile Three. You’re here as a woman to take back what’s yours. You’re here to help other women realize their worth, reclaim their sexuality and transmute their pain into something beautiful, Pile Three and you will do it successfully.

Cards Used: Nine of Swords, The Star, The Emperor, Ace of Wands (RX), Ten of Swords (RX), Two of Discs, Eight of Cups, Queen of Cups, The Sun (RX), 4 of Discs, The World, 4 of Cups, Justice (RX), 8 of Swords, The Lovers (RX), The Hierophant, Princess of Swords.

Signs: Scorpio, Aries, Capricorn, Pisces.

extras: detention. good luck charlie. rapper. obsessed with cats. megan thee stallion. enough (2002). independent women. scarlet red. queer rights activist.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #hoodoo #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #tarotcommunity #tarot deck #pick a reading #pick an image #pac reading #spirituality #tarot pull #tarot pac

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slutforgarlogan · 2 months

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Matching Wounds | James Patrick March x F! reader

Summary: James Patrick March killing you while hes fucking you (sorry guys i had a dream about it and had to write it)

A/N: this is so toned down i got too into the killing part the first time

Warnings: blood!, p in v smut, restraints, reader gets killed but shes in the cortez so she'll be conscious again guys its fine

You tug at the restraints, which are currently making sure both your hands and feet are secured onto the bed. Your chest is heaving and you're getting increasingly nervous, heartrate quickening and inducing you into a panicked state wondering what on earth had made you think this was a good idea.

When you had asked James to do the honours of killing you, so that you could be together forever, it hadn't occured to you that you'd actually have to go through the feeling of being killed. You had just wanted him to shoot you in the head or the heart or something, but it was never going to be that simple when you put your life in the hands of James Patrick March.

James on the other hand, felt the complete opposite to you in this very moment. He was absolutely ecstatic when you had asked him to kill you, and he ran through all the possible ways to do it. Choke you to death, cut you somewhere fatal, snap your neck, shoot you. But what he immediately knew for sure, was that he was going to fuck you while he did it.

After a few days of thinking, also giving you time to go back on the request, he had decided exactly what he was going to do. He was going to slit your throat, so you'd have a permanent wound that matched his own. Which is rather romantic in its own twisted, yet endearing way.

He watches you tug at the restraints that hold you down to the bed, laughing a little bit. "Don't worry darling, i promise this isn't going to be a bad experience for you. I'll make it quick, you wont even notice his happening"

You nod feverishly, though you were scared out of your mind right now, you could never deny the effect that he had on you, pussy clenching around air just from hearing his voice.

You try to relax your body against the sheets, keeping you eyes trained on him carefully, as he sheds himself of his 3 piece and boxers, and uncovering his open neck wound - which you'd only seen him do once before.

You're already squirming by the time hes hovering over you, soaked and desperate for his touch. You lock your gaze with his dark eyes - his gaze somewhat ominous, but loving at the same time.

"I love you, darling" He whispers to you, placing a soft kiss on your temple as he slips his dick into your soaking wet cunt. You whine a little at the stretch, and whisper back to him "I love you too, James"

His hips snap against yours roughly, as he snakes his hand between your bodys to toy with your clit, making you whimper underneath him. The moans that escape his parted lips sound glorious, as breathes out his words "fuck darling, you're always so good for me"

His skin is hot and sticky against yours, and the feel of him buried inside you makes your toes curl as you writhe and whimper beneath him.

He can see you're getting closer, your body giving him the same telltale signs as always. Clenching around his cock, squirming and shaking. The restraints that tie you to the bed leaving deep marks on your wrists at the way you're thrashing beneath him.

As your eyes roll back and you throw your head back, James reaches his free hand over to the bedside table, grabbing his knife and dragging it across your throat as he feels you coat his dick in your release.

He lets out a gutteral groan at the sight in front of him. Your fucked out expression, blood pouring down your neck, trickling down your breasts, and he runs a thumb over your nipple, smearing your blood around it as he waits for you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Taglist: @lacucarachapisser @the-ultimate-theatre-kid @bluerthanvelvet444 @lvxybby

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters smut #ahs smut #james patrick march #james patrick march smut #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march x you #tate langdon #kai anderson #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #peter maximoff #rory monahan

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bramb · 9 months

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Nimona 🤝 Miraculous Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie

Playing Careless Whisper in the subway

#boysen monologues #mlb #ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #cat noir #netflix #nimona #careless whisper #theatre kid snapping

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 6 months

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The Arcana HCs: How M6 act when they're sleep deprived

Julian

What do you mean? This is his permanent state of functioning, MC, he wouldn't know who he was if he wasn't exhausted

Now give him back his coffee. He wasn't done with that

Julian's version of properly sleep deprived is akin to a normal person's version of "so close to dead they've never felt more alive"

You'll only know he's at the true edge of his exhaustion when his eyebrows reach a new height of bushiness and his pupils dilate to two tiny pinpricks of black in a sea of shaky grey

His normal eye will be so bloodshot that you'll have a hard time telling which one needs an eyepatch over it

Be prepared for the theatre kid plague doctor version of zoomies

Were you hoping to read your book quietly? Not anymore!! Allow him to spice up your story by assigning different voices to your beloved characters and loudly reading them from atop the table

Better yet, watch him vault from the table to the windowsill as he demonstrates the dashing hero's getaway!

The plot takes a turn as the book goes flying into the sink and he continues undaunted, improvising a three person fight scene with the lid off your soup pot and the fire poker

This ends when you either guilt him into bed or he crashes mid-sentence

Asra

To say that they don't take well to being sleep-deprived is an understatement. They exist in a constant state of "just rolled out of bed and will happily roll back in." Life revolves around sleeping in

He can lose an hour or two of sleep here and there. It's not even super unusual for him to accidentally stay up into the wee hours of the morning because he got stuck in a curiosity spiral

But they usually make up for it with cat naps through the next day. When that proves impossible, though -

There's no nice way to put it. He's grumpy. Irritable. His tendency to make sarcastic, cutting comments about things he doesn't like increases tenfold

Their hair gets frizzy, the annoyed wrinkles around their eyes could rival an elephant's, and their usual easygoing expression is replaced with a scowl so deeply disgusted by existence that it rivals Muriel's

He doesn't yell or snap - no, he just stumbles through the shop with his hair in his eyes and a random object in his hand (is that a half finished rendering of the Palace carved on a banana peel?)

Be prepared for them to mumble out all kinds of hilarious swear combinations as they give you their real opinion on yesterday's finnicky shop patron. They'll read her outfit to filth

Nadia

She just gets stressed and depressed

And depending on how bad the deprivation is, slightly panicked

First she gets stuck asleep for literal years. Then after waking up she can't sleep enough, thanks to headaches and nightmares. She's just so done with the discomfort of it all

She also associates you with being able to sleep in a way that is safe and restful, so you're about to become a personal stuffie

If you complain, she'll immediately apologize and leave you to go about your day. Otherwise she doesn't realize what she's doing

You're coming with her. Everywhere

She's either got your arm looped through hers, her hand holding yours, or (depending on your height) your shoulders tucked firmly into her side while she runs her fingers through your hair

She will instinctively tighten her grip on you if you squirm

If she gets too lost in thought while she tries to get her tasks out of the way, she will bodily pick you up and carry you from room to room like an animate teddy bear. You are her comfort item now

Forgets to verbalize her thoughts. The plan is so clear inside her head, no need to pause to enact it

Which is how you ended up plopped on a horse with 0 explanation

Muriel

Oh dear

His anxiety skyrockets. Sleep is his coping mechanism for an ugly world. Sleep is an escape. And now sleep is ... unavailable???

His personality slowly shifts. Is he still grumpy? Yes, but faster now. Without access to the thing that helps him feel safe, he's full of anxious energy to the point of becoming frantic

Starts obsessively doing everything he can so that sleep is possible again. Is there a lot to get done? move out of the way.

Is it insomnia? He's trying everything from filling the hut with myrrh to making an uncharacteristic march into town so he can raid the shop for remedies while Asra looks on, jaw on the floor

He'll do anything, just let him sleep

Absolutely refuses to have anything to do with alcohol to make him drowsy, though. The same goes for any type of strong sleeping enchantments, medicines, or potions

He wants to maintain control over his body

It was a strange experience to come back after a day out to find the entire hut rearranged, with a borderline manic Muriel pacing the floor and muttering to himself about "something soothing"

Apparently that was you, by the way, you were all he needed. He took one look at you, heaved a sigh of relief, and then dozed off to the sound of you puttering around

Portia

For someone who's usually so cheery and on top of things, she gets really mellow and spacey - almost childlike

You will have to repeat yourself up to five times before she's able to process your question and tell you that she moved your shoes to the closet because she needed to sweep earlier

Slow frog blinks, first one eye, and then the other

Keeps putting stuff down where it's not supposed to go and then completely forgetting about them

Why is there a wet bar of soap on her pillow. Why is there a teacup half-buried in the garden. Why is Pepi covered in flour

If the reason for her sleep deprivation is overwork, there's no chance of her getting anything more done until she's had a full eight hours of rest. She physically cannot focus enough

If the reason is just insomnia, she just gets sad. One glance at Pepi curled up into a cute little roll and snoozing in a sunbeam will lead to silent tears pouring down her cheeks and quiet sniffles

Gets so so sweet - she already is, of course, but to a whole new degree. If you bring her a cup of soothing herbal tea, she'll look at you like you're a fairy and whisper "thank you" while she cradles it

A good backrub is usually all she needs to conk out

Lucio

He values his beauty sleep and he is not happy when he doesn't get it. Do you know what it takes to maintain skin like his??

Loud and cranky but refuses to acknowledge why

He wouldn't feel this lousy just from not getting enough sleep! What are you talking about? This is clearly some kind of foul magic or sickness at work - check his temperature! Is that a fever??

He doesn't need sleep, he needs answers. Who's fault is this? Who does he need to beat up? Leave him alone!

Wait no no no he didn't mean that, don't leave him alone, MC please, he loves you, don't go (note: you haven't moved)

He knows what he needs to do. He needs to hunt down whoever or whatever is causing this misery and force them to put an end to it

It must be some kind of curse. Loud noises hurt his ears, the sun is too bright, his eyes are tired and itchy, his brain is full of fog, his whole body feels slow and heavy, this isn't right!

Maybe this is actually his cue to throw a party - no? Yeah okay, he wasn't really feeling up for one anyways

Which is clearly another symptom of the curse! MC, help him!

You'll have to change tactics and tell him that you'll only be able to help him kill the curse if he falls asleep so you can see his dreams

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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terrible-leviathan · 1 year

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Imagine finding out that instead of raising you, your dad became a theatre kid and wrote a whole musical about some old guys in America. I too would snap

#i understand luke now #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan

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httplilyyy · 1 year

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𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: the secret is out

warnings: descriptions of violence, (possible) multiple character death, knives, guns, descriptions of blood (lots of it), swearing, angst, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is a bit of a lengthy chapter but it’s one of my favourites.

scream masterlist | prev. part | next part

004. red right hand - nick cave & the bad seeds

‘you'll see him in your nightmares.’

‘What’s your favourite scary movie?’

Those words were written on the wall, a ghostface spray painted just above the chilling question in an old alleyway.

Everywhere you looked something screamed at you to run the other way. You walked alongside Tara and Sam, the younger of the two holding onto your hand, afraid that you would disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Jason and Greg were little Atlantan rich boys.” Gale explained as she walked ahead of everyone, guiding you all into the warehouse. “They used fake names to rent this place.”

“How did you find it?” Kirby questioned, jogging forward to walk beside Gale.

“It’s called investigative journalism for a reason, how didn’t you find it? Weren’t you tracking them?”

“I went through their financial records dozens of times and this was not in any of them.” Kirby huffed as she looked up at the warehouse. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Don’t worry,” Gale smiled feigning sympathy, “I’m just really good at my job, you’ll get there.”

Gale pulled a key card from her bag and opened the door to the warehouse, the rest of you following the woman inside. Gale also grabbed a flashlight, turning it on so she could guide the rest of the way.

“What is this place?” Sam asked as she walked in, looking around at the cobweb littered walls. “What’s with all the security?”

Gale switched on the lights allowing you to finally see what you had just walked into.

“It’s a movie theatre.” Tara stated as she looked around.

“It’s not just a theatre. It's a shrine.” Gale said, nodding to the memorabilia placed all around the theatre.

Your head snapped to the stage, watching as the curtains rose up to show nine mannequins with black cloaks, the ghostface masks missing.

Interested, you took a few cautious steps forward, each item was from the past ghostface’s and their victims.

“They’ve got the whole damn franchise.” Mindy spoke loudly as she walked around, taking in everything that she could.

“Chad.” Mindy gasped softly.

“Hmm?” The boy replied.

“This was uncle Randy’s.” Mindy said, looking at an old t-shirt. “They’ve got everything.”

“Is that-” Tara started, looking over at Kirby.

“The knife I was stabbed with.” Kirby finished, a sorrowful look on her face.

“You have all been through so much.” Bailey said, looking around the room.

“Who drew all these- woah wait.” Mindy said, cutting herself off as she looked intently at an old photo.

“What’s up?” Sam asked, looking over to the girl.

“There’s a child in this.”

Your head snapped up from looking at an old piece of memorabilia and at Mindy. There's only one child who that could be. You.

“What the hell?” Chad mumbled, walking over to his sister so he could have a look himself.

“Y/n? Is that- is that you?” Mindy questioned, looking backwards and forwards from the photo to you.

“I uh- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied, turning your focus onto something else.

“This kid. It looks like you.” Mindy persisted.

You knew you would have to share your secret some time soon but you weren't ready for it to be this soon. You turned your head to Kirby who gave you a discrete nod then you looked at Gale, the older woman giving you a warm smile.

“Okay, I- yeah it’s me.” You said, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

“What the hell.” Chad exclaimed, looking over to you. “Y/n-”

“Look- I- I’m sorry, okay! I just didn’t know how to tell you-” You said, trying to explain as you walked towards the two only for them to take a step back.

Taking the hint you stood in your place, in the middle of the theatre, with everybody watching you. You internally chuckled, this all seemed like some horrible play and you had no way out of it.

“That your sister was a Ghostface?!” Mindy said loudly, hands raised beside her.

“Half sister. Different dads.” You mumbled with a shrug.

“Y/n, why wouldn’t you tell us?” Tara questioned quietly, as if her voice was going to break if she spoke any louder. She was going to move towards you, only to be stopped by Sam.

“I tried to.” You said, heart breaking at all of your friends looking at you as if you were the killer. “I really did- you have to believe me.”

“Y/n-” Sam tried.

“Please.” You said, voice cracking as you tried not to cry.

Sam looked hesitant and so did Tara, although the two of them wanted to comfort you, they didn’t know whether to trust you.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” You stated, voice breaking as tears brimmed your eyes as you looked around at your friends.

“Y/n-”

“It's fine.” You sniffled, wiping away your tears. “It’s fine.”

You looked at everyone around you, feeling like the walls were caving in and you needed to escape, but you didn’t know where to go so you went up onto the stage.

Everyone watched you, moving out of your way as you passed them, as if you had something contagious.

Your heart cracked, you looked back at the people who you once called your friends before standing in front of the ghostface mannequins.

It suddenly felt as if you were under water, you could hear people talking but their voices were muffled. You could also feel eyes on the back of your head, as if it were a target.

You looked at the past ghostfaces, stopping in front of one that had left you in a trance but to you it was more of a nightmare.

Jill’s name was shown at the bottom of the costume, a shiver went down your spine at the memories of that night. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to not let your mind slip back to that time.

But it was no use.

You sat on the floor, hands and feet bound with duct tape, along with your mouth. Your eyes were red raw, tears flowing down your cheeks as you looked up to your older sister.

The person you used to look up to the most stabbed her accomplice. He doubled over in pain, bleeding from where Jill had stabbed him, right in the heart, a look of betrayal flickering over his expression.

“There’s been a change of plans.” Jill smiled manically. “The problem with you Charlie, it’s always been about killing Sidney Prescott. My plan is a little bigger. I’m going to become her.”

And with that, Jill stabbed him again. Charlie couldn’t believe what was happening as he stared at the woman, stunned and shocked. Before falling back and crumbling to the floor.

Jill looked down at him with a glimmer of diabolical glee. She gave his body a quick kick with her foot but his body didn't move. The realisation crossing your face, he's dead and your sister had killed him.

“How did you turn into this?” Sidney asked, looking between Jill and Charlie's now dead body, a glimpse of you being caught in the corner of her eye.

“Nothing is ever what it seems. Your words, Sidney. I've always been this. You know what it's like growing up related to you? All you hear is Sidney this, Sidney that, Sidney, Sidney...You were always so fucking special. Now it's my turn.”

You watched on in fear, Jill taking her knife and pointing it at Sidney, a sickening smile taking form on her face.

“And now you have to die. Those are the rules.”

“What rules?”

“There's only room for one lead. Let's face it, Sid, your ingenue days are over.”

Jill advanced on Sidney, stabbing her with the knife. The older woman gasped in pain leading Jill to stab her again. Sidney dropped to her knees, now losing a lot of blood but desperately trying to stay awake.

Then everything felt as if it moved in slow motion, Sidney’s body fell limp to the floor, you looked at her hopefully, begging for her to get up but she didn’t move.

You let out a scream, the duct tape against your mouth preventing you from being too loud but the sound still startled Jill.

Her head snapped towards you and it was as if her gaze softened but you knew that was too good to be true.

Jill made her way to you, kneeling in front of you. You tried to back away in fear but you couldn’t do anything due to the duct tape around your wrists and ankles.

“Oh, my sweet baby sister.” Jill said sweetly, holding a hand up to your cheek.

You flinched away, even more tears falling from your eyes as you whimpered at the sight of Jill. You looked into her eyes, trying to find the Jill who was once your sister, your best friend, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“I really wish I didn't have to do this.” Jill said sadly and you would’ve believed her if it wasn't for the sickening smile on her face.

You violently shook your head from side to side as you watched Jill edge her knife closer and closer to your side, just under your ribs. You squirmed, kicked, thrashed and screamed, begging Jill with your eyes not to do it.

But she didn't listen. Her knife went into your side and then everything went black.

“So somebody killed these chuckle fucks and took over?” Chad questioned, snapping you out of your haze.

You turned to see that everyone was now on the stage, each of them going backwards and forwards from eyeing you up to looking at a mannequin.

“Someone who believes that Sam masterminded woodsboro and perhaps Y/n now too.” Gale said.

“Wait what?” You questioned turning around to face the older woman, shocked at the statement but you cowered back as everyone's eyes turned to you.

“If this were a normal stab movie, this would be the killer's lair.” Mindy explained from where she stood, giving you a quick side eye.

“Which means this isn’t a normal stab movie.” Kirby added.

Tara breathed heavily, looking between you and her sister before storming off. You went to go after her but after a hard look from Sam you realised you weren’t wanted.

You gave a silent nod, tears forming back in your eyes as the back of your throat burned. You could feel your heart rate increasing, your hands going clammy as your breathing picked up. The theatre walls closing in on you. Not being able to breathe, you looked at everyone before you ran out on your own.

Finally getting to somewhere where you could calm down, you placed your hand against a wall and took in a deep breath. You were startled by the sound of your phone ringing and you already knew who it was.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you answered the call, squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for their voice.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n.” Ghostface tutted. “Walking off on your own, very brave choice.”

“Yeah, well I like my chances.”��

“I wouldn’t get so comfortable.”

“Okay… you’re boring me.” You huffed, taking your phone away from your ear and ending the call.

“Wait wha-”

You shook your head with a sigh, placing your phone back in your pocket before walking back to where everyone was. You saw Gale and Kirby making their way to Sam and Tara so you thought you’d tag along.

The older women both made sure you were okay and with a nod of your head, they knew that you were alright.

“I’m sorry.” You heard Sam whisper to Tara.

“Just drop it Sam.” The younger Carpenter said before walking away from her sister.

“Tara-”

“We’ve got her.” Kirby smiled, motioning to you beside her.

Sam gave you a look but you walked off with Kirby before she could do anything about it leaving her with Gale.

You found Tara sitting by herself, at the top of the theatre, looking down at the stage all caught in her thoughts.

She heard the two of you coming so you sent her a small smile but you didn’t make your way towards her, opting to stay by the door as Kirby sat beside her.

“How’d you get past what happened to you?” Tara questioned, picking at the skin around her fingers.

“I almost died after I was stabbed.” Kirby said. “Technically I did die. For four minutes. When I recovered I got mad. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of monsters. I wanted the monsters to be afraid of me.”

“I like that.” Tara said, clearing her throat before she turned to you. “What about you y/n? You’ve been through this twice.”

“Oh I uh- I-” You struggled, not knowing if Tara actually cared or if she was feeling sympathetic. “I’m the same as Kirby, I almost died but I didn't want to let that determine the way I lived the rest of my life. I mean yeah, sure, it sucked and it took a hell of a lot of therapy to get over my sister stabbing me but I got there in the end.”

The three of you were snapped out of your little bubble when you heard the doors open, Bailey, Sam and Gale walking towards you three.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Bailey said, the two women walking behind him. “But I think I have an idea about how to turn the tables on this creep.”

“Yeah.” Gale agreed. “And we’re in.”

“Sorry Gale, no press allowed.” Kirby said, raising her hands to the side. “Police business. I’m good at my job too.”

“Ooh, she got you there.” You chuckled.

“Okay, so let's go.” Tara said, finding a new determination in her.

“About that,” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m going to stay with Gale, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Gale beamed.

“No, y/n. We need to keep an eye on you.” Sam said.

“Wha-”

“I can handle myself, Sam.” Gale said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You text or call if anything happens.” Sam said firmly, giving you one last look before walking out with Tara, Bailey and Kirby hot on her tail.

“They’ll come around eventually.” Gale said softly, feeling your shoulders deflate.

“Yeah.” You sighed sadly, kicking the ground by your feet.

“C’mon, what do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Take out back at mine?”

“Uh, yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”

The two of you made your way out of the theatre and into Gale’s car. The both of you sat in silence but it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. Your head rested on the car window, watching everything go by as you were stuck in your thoughts.

The journey to her apartment wasn’t long and before you knew it, you were riding the elevator up to her floor.

After Gale unlocked her door, she let you in first. You took in your surroundings and chuckled at how poor you were compared to Gale.

“So this is what it must be like to be really, really rich.” You said, walking into the living room.

“Being a reporter has its perks.” Gale said, giving you a teasing smile.

“It sure does.”

“I never got to ask you about the attack at Sam and Tara’s apartment, and with everything that happened earlier, how are you?” Gale questioned, sitting beside you on her sofa with her laptop in hand.

“I’ve been better but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Who, Jill-?”

“No. Sid.” Gale said with a sad smile on her face. “She’s been with you through it all and this is your first time without her.”

“Of course I miss her.” You said, fiddling with the fabric of your top. “But she needs to stay safe, away from here. Away from me.”

“She misses you too. And don't think like that.” Gale said, her gaze on you softening. “She changed her number, I can give it to you if you’d like.”

“I’m not sure.” You said, playing with your fingers.

“Just give me your phone.” Gale said, holding her hand out.

“Okay.” You said reluctantly, placing your phone in her hand.

“Thank you.” Gale said, quickly typing in Sidney’s number before handing your phone back to you.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. For everything, back in two-thousand and eleven, last year and now today. So, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, y/n. I’ll always be there for you, just like Sid.”

“Although you may still see me as a nine year old, I've got your back too.”

“How about, when this is all over, you can come and live with me? Only if you’d like to of course.” Gale said, nudging you with her elbow.

“I’d like that.” You smiled.

“Now, ‘no press’, who does Kirby think she is?” Gale huffed, opening her laptop. “Bitch, last time I saw you, you were in glee club.”

You shook your head with a smile, leaning back on the sofa to get a look at what Gale was doing.

“Forgive me if I don't trust you to keep them safe.” Gale went on to imitate Kirby.

“I’m going to order food, do you want anything?” You asked, opening up your phone.

“Oh, yes please, I'm fine with whatever.”

“Okay.”

You looked through a couple of take out places but ultimately decided on pizza. You placed your order and put on a movie to kill some time.

After about half an hour you got thirsty so you got up from your spot to get a glass of water, as you were about to ask if Gale wanted one, your phone started ringing.

“Your phone, y/n.” Gale said, looking up from her laptop.

“You can answer it.” You replied, finishing your drink and putting the glass in the sink.

“Hello?” Gale answered.

“Hello, Gale. It's strange that you and I have never spoken on the phone. This is long overdue.”

“Who is it?” You asked, walking over to the woman as you watched her shoot out of her seat.

“It’s Ghostface.” Gale mouthed.

“Shit.” You muttered. “Give the phone to me.”

“I agree.” Gale replied over the phone, holding a hand up to you as she shook her head.

“I figured after all these years you’d want an interview.”

“I’m going to call the police.” You whispered, picking up Gale’s home phone before walking out of the room.

“You figured right.” Gale said, looking at her phone as it buzzed on the coffee table, Sam’s name coming up as the contact. “So what's your motive this time? You angry at the movies or are you just trying to stay relevant?”

“Well I could ask you the same. Don't you know the legacy characters are disposable now. Nobody cares about last century's heroes.”

“Then why bother with me at all?”

“Call it nostalgia. Or maybe you deserve to be punished for all that money you made off the misery of others. Maybe it's time someone made a buck reporting your death.”

“You know you're like the tenth guy to try this right. And spoiler alert, it never works out for the dip-shit in the mask.”

“Oh but they certainly leave a mark before they go, don’t they? Richie and Amber managed to butcher Dewey, carved him up like a christmas goose. How does it feel to lose the only man who ever loved you?”

“Fuck you.”

“How does it feel to know that you weren’t there for him at the end? Not there to give him comfort as he died screaming in his own guts.”

“You’re the one who’s gonna die screaming.”

“Maybe, but you won’t be there to see it. You couldn’t stop what happened to Dewey. Just like you wont be able to stop what’s coming.”

“Hey, the police are on their way.” You said quietly, running back in the room.

“Is that, y/n I hear?”

“What do you want?” Gale questioned.

“How about you put them on the phone.”

“No chance.”

“Oh, I'd do it if I were you, Gale.”

“Fine.” Gale reluctantly said, handing you your phone.

“Hey, Ghosty.” You said, taking your phone from Gale and holding up to your ear.

“Hello, y/n. How’s it feel to be cut off from the friendship group?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh I know everything. I thought you would know that by now.”

“I guess so.”

“Now, how about a game of hide and seek?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m hiding, you come find me.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because I'll gut you like a fish before you have the chance to step foot out of this apartment!” The Ghostface said loudly down the phone. “So, y/n, let me try that again. Do you want to play hide and seek? I’ll make it easier for you by saying if you’re hot or cold.”

“How about a game of Marco Polo. I think that’s a little more interesting.”

“Or I can go back to the originals and ask, what’s your favourite scary movie? It doesn't work like that, y/n. You play by my rules. Hide. And. Seek.”

“You really are a sick fuck.”

“Cold.” Ghostface said, ignoring you and starting the game of hide and seek.

You sighed to yourself, walking towards the kitchen where Gale looked at you with confusion written all over her face.

“Colder.”

“What's going on?” Gale mouthed.

“Hide and seek.” You mouthed back.

“Y/n, no!”

“I’ll be fine, just wait here.”

“What’s taking you so long, y/n?”

“Taking a stroll, you impatient fuckface.” You replied, walking back to the living room.

“Warmer.”

You walked back to where you had called the police, and came across multiple doors, one on your left, two on your right and one at the end of the hall.

You opened the first on your right, only for it to be an empty bathroom.

“Warmer.”

The next one you opened was the one on your left, again empty.

“Warmer.”

You decided to go for the one at the very end of the hall but it was empty too, only leaving one door left to open.

As you grasped the handle you let out a shaky breath, pulling it open with speed.

“Bingo.” Ghostface said, ending the call as they jumped out of the cupboard, stabbing you in the stomach.

“Ah! Fuck!” You yelled, holding your stomach as you fell to the floor, the ghostface standing over you menacingly.

The Ghostface tilted their head to the side, preparing the knife in their hand to bring it down onto your body.

Gale, from the other room, heard your scream and rushed towards you. Stopping in her tracks seeing the Ghostface next to you.

The Ghostface turned their head towards Gale, tilting to the side slightly, looking backwards and forwards from you and Gale.

Their shoulders sagged, shaking their head as they looked down at your body before speeding their way over to Gale, leaving you to bleed out on the floor.

“Gale.” You shouted weakly, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from your abdomen.

If being stabbed once in one day wasn't bad enough, it just had to happen again. You could hear things crashing in the kitchen along with Gale’s attempt to keep the Ghostface away from her.

Using all of your strength, you opened a door that led you to Gale’s bedroom. You pulled yourself along the floor and situated yourself in her walk-in closet.

You let yourself breathe for a moment, looking down at your wound when you let out a small grunt as you applied more pressure, your head slowly starting to become dizzy as you felt your eyelids drooping.

All of a sudden, the heavy breaths of Gale became closer, the woman running into her walk-in closet and slamming the door behind her, making sure it was locked.

“Oh God, Y/n!” Gale said worriedly, rushing over to you, applying pressure on your wound.

“I’m fine, Gale.” You said, struggling to form a sentence as you looked over to the door where the Ghostface pounded on it relentlessly.

“No you're not! Oh God! You have to stay with me!”

“Gale, deal with the Ghostface, I promise I'm fine, I just need to catch my breath.” You said, placing a hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gale gave you a reluctant nod before getting up and opening up a cupboard where inside was a case containing her gun. The case had a lock on it, causing Gale to try a few times before she could finally open it.

Once she had the gun out of the box, she shot towards the door and at the Ghostface and it all went quiet.

“How’s that for nostalgia, fucker!” Gale shouted, tightening her grip on the gun.

Letting out heavy breaths, you finally thought you were safe but you should’ve known that the Ghostface wouldn’t have given up that easily. The sound of a phone ringing causes both you and Gale to jump.

The older woman looked to her side, where the phone sat, right next to a picture of her and Dewey. Keeping her gun facing the door, she walked over to the phone and picked it up.

“You missed.”

“Sure I did.” Gale replied sarcastically.

“You win, I'm in the elevator heading for the ground floor.”

“Sure you are.” Gale scoffed, making her way towards the door shooting at it once again.

“Maybe you did hit me. Maybe I'm wounded. Or maybe I'm wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“That’s why I’m going to shoot you in the fucking head!” Gale shouted, opening the door.

“Gale no!” You yelled, finding some strength in you to pull you up to your feet. You held onto the wall, walking slowly after Gale, watching as she made her way back into the living room.

“You would’ve made a good killer Gale. Sidney would never have made sense and Dewey was a fan favourite but you cracking under the pressure and turning into Ghostface would've been a great twist.”

“Keep talking, asshole.” Gale said, manoeuvring further into the living room. You couldn't keep up with her, having to lean your back against the wall to catch your breath.

“Mhm, sure.” They chuckled. “What do you wanna talk about? You never got to be the leading lady, did you? It was always about poor sweet Sidney sucking up all the oxygen and what did that leave you to be?”

“The brains and the sex appeal.” Gale deadpanned.

“Sorry for stabbing y/n. Being through all this twice didn’t help much.”

“It sure didn’t.”

The Ghostface didn’t reply, not with words, they just laughed over the phone.

“Can you hold please?” Gale asked rhetorically.

“What?”

Gale took the phone away from her ear, dialling her home number causing a phone to ring in another room. Gale turned around fast, shooting at where the noise came from which was soon followed by a groan and a thump.

The ringing continued as she made her way to the door but as she went to open the door, the Ghostface jumped out and stabbed her in the shoulder. She tried to shoot them but they knocked her gun from her hand.

Hearing Gale let out a guttering scream, you pushed yourself off the wall and made your way to her as quickly as you could.

You rounded the corner and saw Gale sitting on the floor, her back to a wall as the Ghostface plunged their knife into her side, just like they did to you.

“Gale!” You said, walking over to her but you were weak, your legs giving out underneath you causing you to tumble to the floor. “Fuck!”

Gale had managed to push the Ghostface off her and she tried to make a run for it but they were hot on her tail. She smacked a vase over their head, but they still got up.

She ran around her living room, desperately trying to get away but the Ghostface caught up to her. Before they could stab her, Gale flipped them over her shoulder and they smashed into her coffee table. The Ghostface knocked out cold.

Gale looked to her side, seeing you struggle to get to your feet. She made her way towards you and the two of you met in the middle. You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling as Gale sat on her knees applying pressure to your wound.

“You promised me.” Gale sobbed, watching as blood slipped through her fingers. “You promised me you were fine!”

“I am.” You reassured. “I am, now go finish the job.”

“You better be awake by the time I get back.” Gale said, looking intently into your eyes.

“I will, I'm coming to live with you, remember?”

“Do not close your eyes!” Gale said, crawling away from you and back to the Ghostface.

She picked up their knife, looking back at you once before she brought it down onto the Ghostface. However, before she could make contact, the Ghostface picked up a shard of glass and stabbed it into her abdomen.

You heard Gale let out a low groan but you couldn't move, a lone tear falling from the corner of your eye.

The Ghostface took back their knife and went to push it onto Gale’s head but she used all the strength she had left and held the knife away.

“Fuck you!” Gale whispered tiredly.

When you thought the Ghostface was going to kill her, you heard Sam and Tara run into the apartment.

“Hey, fuckface!” Sam shouted, picking up Gale’s gun and shooting it at the Ghostface.

The masked killer quickly got up and ran away, dodging bullets that were firing their way.

“Gale!” Tara exclaimed, rushing over to the woman, Sam following quickly after.

“Shit! Gale!” Sam said, placing pressure on Gale’s wound causing her to groan. “Sorry. I'm sorry. I should’ve known he was going to come after you, I'm so sorry.”

“He didn’t get me. Tell Sidney, he never got me.”

“Hey, no you’ve got to stay awake.” Sam said, watching as Gale slowly closed her eyes.

“Y/n.” Gale said, fighting to stay awake but she finally let her eyes drop and sleep overcome her.

“Gale! No, Gale!” Sam exclaimed.

“Shit!” Tara panicked, looking around her. “Where’s y/n?”

Tara spotted you behind a chair, blood pooling all around you as you didn’t move.

“Y/n!” Tara shouted, rushing over to you. “No, no, no, no. Please stay awake. Please.”

“They’ve got terrible aim.” You croaked, a small smile forming on your face as you placed a hand over Tara’s.

“I’m sorry, God I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” Tara cried, trying to stop the bleeding from your stomach as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“It’s okay.” You grunted as Tara applied more pressure. “Maybe this proves that I'm not the killer.”

“Even when you’re dying, you still annoy me.”

“You love me.” You smirked. “Even if you won’t admit it to me yet, I know you do.”

“I should’ve believed you.” Tara said, crying even harder. “I do, I do believe you now. I promise, now you’ve got to stay awake, okay? You’ve got to.”

You heard the elevator ding, two paramedics rushing into Gale’s apartment. One going to Gale the other over to you.

“Out of the way.” The paramedics said to Tara and Sam.

“No!” Tara shouted, trying to stay as close to you as possible and Sam did the same thing with Gale.

You placed your hand on Tara’s arm giving her a look. She shook her head, tears flowing even faster now but you persisted and she eventually gave in.

Tara walked over to her sister, the older girl pulling her into her arms as the two of them watched as the paramedics tended to you and Gale.

“Checking.” One paramedic said, putting two fingers to Gales' pulse point. “We’ve got a weak pulse. Get the back board, we need to move now.”

Sam let out a teary sigh, nodding her head finally calm knowing that Gale was okay but then her attention turned to you.

Tara couldn't seem to keep her eyes off you, afraid that if she did you wouldn't make it.

You weren't sure what happened next. One moment police officers and paramedics were rushing into Gale’s apartment and then the next- well, you didn’t know.

Everything was white.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter imagines #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega imagines #scream vi #scream 6 #scream

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