if requests are open… i beg of you, the ethan writer…. to please write something about ethan being a certified munch… like you can’t tell me he doesn’t eat pussy for a SPORT. sure he’d love you to sit on his face but… i can just imagine him folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you
A/N : Hii ! <3 I loooove your request so much, it just SCREAMS Ethan Landry to me, this man would happily die between your legs if it means he can eat your pussy for hours and make you cum multiple times !! 🤤🖤 Please tell me if I did justice to your request and you know where to find me if you want other Ethan’s fics 😘✨
Ethan Landry lives for eating you out as he loves giving the sweetest pleasure to your pussy…or is it his ?
❦ Even though Ethan Landry is inexperienced when he first starts eating you out, your boyfriend would improve so quickly because of two simple reasons. First, because Ethan wants to do things right and would absolutely listen to your advice when he asks you what feels good or not, taking mental notes of which spot makes you moan the loudest and which pace makes you cum the fastest. Secondly, because Ethan wants - need - to eat you out so frequently that he, anyway, grew to be very good at it.
❦ Ethan would definitely leave hickeys on your inner thighs before he even touches you pussy, his head nicely snuggled between your thighs as he nips, bites, licks and kisses your skin that will show his marks, only for him to know who you really belong to.
❦ He would then press his fingers on your pussy, his thumb rubbing on your clit through the pretty lace material of your panties that he offered you a few days ago, teasing you as Ethan feels the wetness dampen the fabric underneath his fingertips and proudly smiles when he realizes that he can work you up this nicely by barely touching you.
❦ Ethan would also always, and I say always, kiss your pussy through your panties before starting to eat you out, almost like he’s greeting your little cunny like the sweet boyfriend he is.
❦ This man could die between your thighs and he would be the happiest man ever. He would literally overstimulate your pussy for hours because Ethan cannot even realize how long he’s been giving you pleasure and he doesn’t care, he just wants you to feel good and…Ethan also gets excited just by eating you out.
❦ In fact, Ethan would get so painfully hard from pleasing you only with his mouth that he would start humping the bed to get some relief, cumming in his pants a few times seeing how much he’s desperate for you, and only you, making his head spin with pleasure.
❦ I also believe that Ethan’s hair is quite sensitive and with how much you would be pulling on his curly strands when he gives you orgasm one after the other, Ethan would whine, moan and grunt so much against your pussy, creating the most delicious vibrations against your sensitive clit.
❦ If you try to remove his head from your pussy (and if it’s still consensual of course), you won’t have any chance against his strength, his head won’t budge away from you. Nothing will stop Ethan if he isn’t finished with you yet and he will pin you down with his free hand by pressing against your tummy if he has to.
❦ Ethan will also bite your thighs if you contain your sounds of pleasure, he doesn’t want that and absolutely won’t let you do it. Ethan relishes in the way you so beautifully moan his name, whine in a pitched tone when you’re close to your climax and when you softly tell Ethan that you love him between soft whimpers after he overstimulated you.
❦ If he eats you out from behind or when you sit on his face, Ethan makes sure to grab handfuls of your ass while your thighs tremble and shake under his sweet indecent ministrations.
❦ Hell, this man would even eat you out at school between classes when Ethan really can’t wait to have you alone for himself. Ethan would take you to the restroom and press you against the wall as he kneels before going down on you. His head would be snuggled between your thighs as you look down to find his filthy gaze not leaving yours until he can hear you moan his name while you cream on his tongue. It simply feels like heaven to Ethan.
❦ Your boyfriend will even eat you out just to get rid of his stress, as Ethan paws at your skirt and then sliding his hand underneath it to caress the lace of your panties, after you both came back home from a long tiring day. « Please baby… I’m stressed, just need to eat you out real quick… I’ll be good… Can I ? », Ethan pleads you as he nuzzles your pulsating neck with his cold nose, pressing encouraging kisses there.
❦ Ethan feels immensely proud about giving you such pleasure only with his mouth and to hear those sweet sounds of yours mixed with little cries of his name, it all sounds like the most perfect music to his ears. After a session where your boyfriend knows that he did a particularly good job at making you feel good just by seeing the blush on your face, Ethan would silently look at you with a smug smile like the nerd he is.
❦ Ethan would make eye contact with you when he knows you’re close to reaching your climax. His eyes being half lidded white how pussy drunk he is.
❦ If you squirt while he eats you out, Ethan will feel so proud that he won’t ever shut up about it as he gently encourages you to do it again for him.
❦ After giving you so many orgasms with his mouth, a long session that leaves your pussy sensitive and puffy because of his lips, Ethan would so gently and softly kitten licks your pretty cunt and press little kisses on your clit, like the sweet boyfriend he is.
❦ While going down on you and after taking care of you, Ethan would praise you so much as he leaves kisses all over your face and pampers you with lovely words that he reserves only for you, his perfect girlfriend, « You did so well for me, angel. »
❦ Well, Ethan worships your pussy if that wasn’t clear enough.
❦ But what Ethan favors to do the most is folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you and literally do whatever he wants to your pussy. Ethan would sometimes add two of his fingers when he wants to give you even more pleasure while sucking on your clit, twirling his tongue around it and lapping at your folds like the sweet puppy he is as he tries his best to tongue fuck you.
❦ When Ethan’s finished with you, as you’re so overstimulated that your legs go limp when he releases them, barely able to feel your legs anymore seeing how much strength your boyfriend applied on them. Some marks already start forming as Ethan apologetically presses kisses on your bruised skin, his face now covered in your juices as his mouth glistens. Ethan would give you the sloppiest kiss ever to make you taste yourself on his tongue, as he whines in your mouth at the feeling of having done a good job at making you feel good. During this kind of kiss, Ethan feels restless as he uncontrollably paws at your chest and holds your face to deepen the kiss, as he rubs his still hard-on against your pussy. His pants dampened with his cum after cumming in his pants so many times, feels sticky on your skin while he humps himself on your poor overstimulated and swollen clit. Yet, Ethan will never forget aftercare as he cleans you up like his dear little princess before cuddling you. Ethan is the loveliest puppy as he holds you tight in his arms, moving you closer to his body before he gets sleepy and rests his head on your shoulder, snoring lightly in your ear while he nuzzles against your face.
I feel like Billy Loomis would have a daddy kink but develops it by complete accident.
Until that night, he thought being called “daddy” was disgusting. He hardly even liked his own dad, why would he want a hot person to call him that?
But one night, he was fucking you with an animalistic need, his hand lightly squeezing your throat as your moans and wet slapping filled the room. The word slipped from your kiss-swollen lips and Billy’s hips faltered for the first time ever. He had already been dangerously close to the edge, but the moan that accompanied his new name made his rock-hard cock twitch in a way that was almost painful. It took all of his willpower to hold back his orgasm.
While his hips slowed, his thrusts became deeper as he panted by your ear, blunt nails ripping into the soft flesh of your hips, cooing in a sinister, low voice, “Want daddy to cum, baby~?”
He’d never let you live it down either. The only way he would let you come that night was if you pleaded to “daddy”. On the nights following, he’d get you worked up with fleeting touches only to stop until you call him that. Even when your lips are wrapped around his cock, he’ll praise you by mentioning how well you’re taking daddy’s cock.
Maybe it just took the right person for Billy to like it.
(ФωФ): established relationship, pure fluff, lots of kissing and affection. a few random ideas i had idk its just fluff
i love writing physical touch and fluff stuff omfg. haha how could you tell im touch starve-
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･
A full day of doing absolutely nothing except smothering your two favorite psychos with affection? Yeah, that was the plan.
The problem?
Billy and Stu suck at being doted on.
Stu is the easier target. He wakes up a mess, limbs sprawled over the bed, half his face shoved into the pillow, mumbling nonsense about “aliens stealing his popcorn.” It makes him way too easy to attack.
You climb on top of him, pinning him down, pressing soft kisses along his jawline.
"Mmm," Stu groans, voice raspy with sleep, "’s too early for makin’ out, babe."
"Is it? Because I don’t care," you hum against his skin, trailing kisses up to the corner of his mouth.
His lips twitch, but before he can respond, you smother him completely, peppering kisses across his cheeks, nose, eyelids—everywhere.
"Jesus, get a room—"
Billy barely gets the words out before you pounce on him next.
"Oh, you’re not getting away either," you warn.
Billy scowls, but the second you cup his face and press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, he melts. His hands instinctively find your waist, grip tightening, like he’s about to flip you over and take control—
But not today.
You pull back just before he can deepen it, grinning. "Nah-uh. Today, I’m in charge."
Billy narrows his eyes. "Oh yeah? We’ll see about that."
Stu groans, shoving his face into a pillow. "Ugh, you guys are so hot. I hate it."
---
Dragging them outside was a challenge. Billy had no interest in leaving the damn house, and Stu—while willing—was easily distracted.
"Babe, let’s get ice cream!"
"Babe, let’s go shoplift some candy!"
"Babe, I dare you to kiss me in front of that old lady at the bus stop—"
Stu, unsurprisingly, had no shame. He loved public affection, wrapping himself around you like an overgrown golden retriever. At some point, he slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest dramatically. “Look at my beautiful, gorgeous partner. What did I do to deserve this? Am I dead? Is this heaven?”
You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything, Billy—who had been quiet the entire time—leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
Casual. Effortless. Like it was nothing.
Stu nearly choked. “DID YOU JUST—WAIT, HOLD ON, DID YOU JUST—"
Billy, already walking ahead, didn’t even turn around. “You’re embarrassing.”
Stu gasped. “Oh, I see how it is. I get called embarrassing, but you get to be all suave and mysterious?”
You just laughed, grabbing Stu’s hand and pulling him along.
---
By the time night rolled in, Billy was done. The sheer amount of affection you had dumped on him today was practically overwhelming, and you knew he’d never admit how much he secretly liked it.
So when you cuddled up next to him on the couch, lazily playing with his fingers while a horror movie played in the background, you weren’t surprised when he grumbled, “You’re annoying.”
"And yet you’re still letting me do this," you mused, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.
Billy didn’t respond, but his grip on your hand tightened.
Stu, meanwhile, was half-dead on the other side of the couch, sprawled out across your lap. His head rested against your stomach, and every so often, he’d shift just to nuzzle closer.
"Man, today was amazing," Stu sighed dramatically. "I vote we do this every day. Just endless kissing. No murder. Just smooching."
Billy shot him a look. "We have priorities, Stu."
"Yeah, yeah, priorities, blah blah—babe, kiss me again," Stu whined, nudging his head against you.
Billy rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, but he didn’t stop you when you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Stu’s forehead.
And later, when the lights were off and the three of you were tangled together under the covers, Billy was the one to initiate a slow, lazy kiss against your temple before whispering, "Go to sleep, dumbass."
You smirked in the dark. "Love you too, Billy."
From the other side of the bed, Stu hummed, half-asleep. "Love you both, man. Like… so much. Like, insane levels. Like, I’d literally—"
Billy shoved a pillow over his face.
"Go to sleep, Stu."
---
The next morning, you woke up sore.
Not from anything particularly wild—just the sheer weight of two grown men practically crushing you in their sleep.
Stu had draped himself across you at some point in the night, his leg slung over your waist like a human seatbelt. Billy, on the other hand, had an iron grip around your torso, his face buried in your shoulder.
Trying to move was impossible.
You groaned. "Guys, I love you, but you’re both insanely heavy."
Stu mumbled something unintelligible, nuzzling his face into your stomach like a content cat. Billy just tightened his hold, making it very clear that he had no intention of moving.
You huffed, wiggling your arms free. "Fine. Guess I’ll just be trapped here forever."
Stu yawned dramatically. "Forever sounds kinda nice… ‘s long as there’s breakfast."
Billy finally stirred, shifting slightly, but instead of letting you go, he pressed a slow, lazy kiss to your collarbone. It was so casual—so effortless—that it sent a shiver down your spine.
Oh. So that’s how it was gonna be today.
"Alright, nope—" you shoved at his chest, but he barely budged, "—you’re not getting away with acting like that after ignoring me all day yesterday."
Billy smirked against your skin. "I ignored you?"
"Emotionally, yes."
"Bullshit." He finally leaned up, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I let you kiss me all damn day."
"Exactly! I let you kiss me."
"Ohhh, someone wants Billy’s full attention today," Stu teased, grinning. He propped himself up on one elbow, his hair a mess from sleep. "I get it, babe. Billy’s a hard guy to crack. But lucky for you—" he leaned in dramatically, voice dropping into a whisper, "—I’m easy."
You snorted, pushing his face away. "That is not the flex you think it is, Stu."
"Hey, shut up and gimme a kiss."
Before you could react, he flopped onto you again, his lips pressing against your cheek in a series of obnoxiously loud, wet smooches.
"Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!"
"Stu, oh my God—"
Billy rolled his eyes, but you caught the slightest twitch of his lips—amusement, barely there. Oh, so he thought he could just sit there and watch? Two could play that game.
"Hey, Billy," you called sweetly, tilting your head toward him, "why don’t you give me a real kiss? Show Stu how it’s done?"
Stu gasped in mock betrayal. "Oh-ho-ho, no way! You’re tryna make billy willy jealous? Babe, that’s evil. I love it."
Billy, unfazed, simply raised an eyebrow. "Jealous of him?"
"Ow," Stu mumbled.
You grinned, shifting so that you were leaning fully against Billy, your nose brushing his. His breath hitched, just barely, and that’s when you knew you had him.
"C’mon, Loomis," you murmured, voice low, "I’ve been kissing Stu all morning. Don’t you wanna—"
Billy cut you off with a kiss, Slow, deep, possessive.
Stu groaned dramatically. "Ugh, gross. Get a room."
Billy pulled back just long enough to mutter, "You’re literally in the same room."
"Yeah, and I don’t appreciate being left out!"
You barely had time to breathe before Stu yanked you toward him, stealing a kiss for himself. Unlike Billy’s, it was playful—teasing—his fingers tracing along your jaw like he was memorizing the shape of you.
"Mmm. Much better."
Billy scoffed. "You’re insufferable."
Stu grinned. "And yet, you’re still here."
Billy didn’t respond—just yanked you back toward him, kissing you again, like he was proving a point.
Stu gasped. "Oh, so it’s a competition now?"
You tried to protest, but it was too late—Stu tackled both of you onto the bed, smothering you with exaggerated affection, and suddenly, you were caught in an endless loop of soft kisses, dramatic whining, and playful bites.
The absolute audacity of these two.
You barely had time to catch your breath before you were pounced on, trapped beneath Stu’s ridiculous weight as he suffocated you in another flurry of wet, obnoxious kisses.
"Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!"
"Stu—" you wheezed between attacks.
"What’s wrong, babe? Thought you wanted some real affection today?" he teased, his grin downright wicked.
Billy, unimpressed, leaned against the headboard, arms crossed. His dark eyes watched—half-annoyed, half-amused—as Stu continued his assault, peppering kisses across your cheeks, your nose, your forehead—
"Alright, that’s enough," Billy muttered.
Before you could blink, Stu was gone.
Correction—Billy had yanked him off you like a cat picking up an unruly kitten. Stu yelped as he was tossed onto the mattress, his limbs flailing, landing dramatically on his back.
"Dude, what the hell—?"
Billy didn’t acknowledge him. He was too busy shifting over you, pinning you in place with his knee between your legs, his hands framing your face.
And then he kissed you.
Not playfully. Not teasingly, just pure, slow, possessive intensity.
The kind of kiss that burned, that made your stomach flip, that had you clutching at his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to the damn planet. When Billy finally pulled back, your lips felt swollen, your breath stolen. (haha swollen stolen. sorry.)
He smirked. "That’s how it’s done."
Stu, from the other side of the bed, clutched his chest like he’d been stabbed. "Holy shit—did you guys just have, like, a full conversation without saying a single word? Babe. Babe, be honest—are you two psychic? Oh my god. I’m the third wheel."
"Oh my god, shut up," Billy groaned, flopping back onto the mattress.
You just giggled, still dazed.
---
Breakfast—or rather, lunch—was a complete disaster.
Billy, being Billy, refused to let either of you touch his damn stove. Something about “last time you nearly burned the kitchen down” and “I don’t trust you idiots”.
Stu, offended, spent the next five minutes whining. "C’mon, dude, it wasn’t even that bad! The fire alarm only went off, like, three times!"
Billy didn’t dignify that with a response.
So while he handled making the food, you and Stu took it upon yourselves to distract him. And by distract, that meant:
Clinging to Billy’s back like koalas.
Placing loud, exaggerated smooches to his cheek while he stirred the eggs.
Stu biting his shoulder for no reason other than to be a silly guy.
Billy barely tolerated it—up until Stu reached for the spatula.
With zero hesitation, Billy smacked his hand away. "Touch it and die."
Stu pouted, cradling his injured fingers. "Babe, Billy hit me."
You, still wrapped around Billy’s shoulders, hummed. "That’s crazy. What did you do?"
Stu gasped. "You’re picking his side?"
"I’m on the side that gets me food."
Billy snorted. "Smart choice."
Stu groaned, dramatically slumping onto the counter. "This is abuse. This is a toxic household."
Billy just shoved a piece of toast into his mouth.
---
Billy should’ve known that blocking you and Stu from the kitchen would come back to bite him in the ass. Because now? Now it was your turn to be..you.
It started small, innocent. You kissed Billy’s cheek. Just once. Quick. Simple.
Then you did it again, and again, and again.
After the fifth time, he sighed. "Alright, what’s your deal?"
"No deal." You grinned, leaning in to press another kiss to his temple.
Billy raised a brow. "You’re up to something."
"Me? Never."
From across the room, Stu was barely holding in his laughter.
Billy eyed him suspiciously. "What did you two idiots plan?"
That’s when you struck. A full-scale attack—kissing everywhere. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw—rapid fire, one after the other, not stopping once.
Billy went rigid.
"Oh my god," Stu wheezed.
Billy tried to escape, but you clung to him like a damn barnacle, giggling as you relentlessly smothered him with kisses.
"Get off—" he groaned, trying to pry you away.
"Nope."
Stu, in between fits of laughter, jumped in next, trapping Billy in an inescapable hug from behind.
"Aww, c’mon, man, let us love you!"
Billy visibly considered murder, but he was stuck.
Defeated, he dropped his head back against Stu’s shoulder, exhaling sharply. "I hate both of you."
You beamed, pressing one last, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "We know." Stu just grinned, squeezing Billy tighter.
Billy sighed. "Unfortunately."
And yet—despite his complaints, despite his glaring—Billy didn’t push either of you away.
If anything…
His grip tightened.
Just a little.
-----
The first time you hear the floorboards creak, your heart stutters in your chest. It’s late—too late for visitors, too late for anyone to be walking around your house except for you. The chill in the air seeps through your open window, rustling your curtains like ghostly fingers, and you swear you can hear the distant hum of something… watching.
Then, a whisper, soft and teasing:
“Boo.”
You barely get a chance to react before a gloved hand cups your cheek, tilting your head up. A white mask looms above you, glossy black eyes empty yet somehow brimming with mischief. The second figure appears just as quickly, pressing in from behind, their breath warm against your neck as they chuckle.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Stu drawls, dropping his mask onto your desk before wrapping himself around you, arms banding across your waist. “You should see your face right now—so cute. Terrified. Makes me wanna eat you up.”
Billy, still in his mask, tilts his head, fingers trailing along your jaw. “What’s the matter, baby? Thought you liked surprises.”
You huff, pushing at Stu’s arms half-heartedly, but he refuses to budge. "Surprises don’t usually involve breaking and entering, you freaks."
Billy finally removes his mask, revealing that sharp smirk that always makes your stomach flip. “Technically, we have keys,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your temple. “So it’s not breaking and entering. It’s just entering.”
Stu snickers, squeezing you tighter. “And we entered real good, huh?”
Before you can retaliate, Billy grips your chin, tilting your face up. His lips find yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—deep and possessive, like he’s trying to consume every breath you have left. His other hand slides down your side, settling against your hip, fingers curling into your shirt as he presses himself closer.
Behind you, Stu hums, nosing into your neck. “Damn, baby, you’re so warm.” His teeth graze your skin, not quite biting, just enough to make you shiver. "We should wake you up like this every night. Just sneak in, cuddle up, steal some kisses—"
"You always steal kisses," you mutter, breaking away from Billy just long enough to glare at Stu.
He grins. “Yeah, but you love it.”
Billy pulls you back before you can respond, kissing you again, this time more insistent, more urgent. His tongue teases against your lower lip, and you melt into him before you even realize what you're doing. His hands slide down, gripping your waist possessively, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.
Stu, ever the jealous one, makes a noise of protest and tugs you backward. "Hey, don’t hog ‘em, man. Sharing is caring."
Billy pulls away just slightly, his lips slick and pink, and raises a brow. “You’re not even trying. Just standing there, being annoying.”
Stu gasps, all exaggerated offense. "I’m literally holding them like my favorite teddy bear!"
Billy rolls his eyes, but his smirk softens. "Then act like it."
Stu doesn’t need to be told twice. He spins you in his arms, capturing your lips in a kiss so sweet it makes your knees weak. Where Billy is intense, consuming, Stu is playful, teasing. He hums into your mouth, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as his lips drag from your lips to your cheek, then down to your jaw.
Billy, not one to be ignored, presses up against you from behind, trapping you between their warmth. His lips skim over the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
You whimper, just a little, just enough to make them both grin.
"Awww," Stu coos, nipping at your cheek before kissing the same spot. "Is our baby feeling overwhelmed?"
Billy chuckles, his voice lower, rougher. "Good."
They don’t stop kissing you. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your neck—every inch of skin they can reach. Billy is methodical, his kisses trailing slow and deliberate, while Stu is chaotic, pressing quick pecks all over, whispering little praises in between.
"So pretty," Stu murmurs against your ear, his hands massaging slow, lazy circles into your sides. "So warm, so sweet. Can't get enough of you."
Billy's breath ghosts over your jaw before he presses another firm kiss there. "We should keep you between us forever.."
Something in his tone makes your breath hitch. Possessive. Protective. Loving.
You should be unnerved. But you’re not.
"You're both ridiculous," you whisper, though your voice lacks any real bite.
Stu grins. "Ridiculously in love with you, yeah."
Billy hums in agreement, brushing his lips over your temple. "Now, let’s get you back to bed, baby. You need sleep."
"After all that?" You scoff. "You expect me to just sleep?"
Billy smirks. "We'll make it up to you in the morning."
Stu wiggles his eyebrows. "Or we could keep kissing you ‘til you pass out. That’d be fun."
You groan, but you don’t pull away. You don’t want to. Instead, you let them guide you to bed, curling up between them as they continue peppering you with kisses—soft, slow, affectionate.
And as their warmth surrounds you, as their lips press lazy, lingering kisses against your skin, you realize something.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut.
𝐀/𝐍: Part two.
Paradise. That's where he was, watching you tremble beneath him, crawling across the carpet in escape-no, in denial that you wouldn't be able to flee. His heart was pounding just as much as yours, that he could swear. Except his was beating out of pure excitement, while yours, certainly, was not for anything positive.
"Oh, princess..." He chuckled, watching your back finally press against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go. He crouched down, the tip of the knife tickling your cheek. He didn't plan to hurt you-not yet-but the threat still loomed.
It hadn't even been five minutes since he broke into your room, and you were already making him hard. He licked his lips, almost savoring your panic, and it was definitely a delight. Yes, he loved the pleasure of killing people, but seeing his little girlfriend scared? That was something else.
Unconsciously, lost in thought, he was caressing your lips with his thumb. You recoiled, almost feeling disgusted by his touch, which might have offended him a bit since that snapped him out of his daydream. It was a little habit he had with you, except from your perspective, it was a killer in front of you, not your lover, so your reaction was more than understandable.
The knife still against your skin, but with no pressure. "Kill me... what's wrong with you? Stop playing with me and just do what you came here to do already," you said.
He tilted his head to the side, an expression of disappointment hidden beneath the mask. He thought it was obvious he wasn't going to kill you. "Stop touching me!" you snarled. "I have a damn boyfriend."
Naïve of you to think that saying that would stop a killer. Though he did find your loyalty adorable, even in a situation like that.
You thought you were successfully distracting him long enough to call your boyfriend, since hiding your phone behind your back was easy with his contact on speed dial.
"Nuh uh," he said. "Not that, princess." He snatched the phone from your hands. Ghostface froze, the shock you displayed gave him an extra dose of dopamine. His eyes shifted from your hypnotizing look of horror to the screen. Not that he needed to read the contact to know who you were trying to call.
His own phone vibrating in his pocket made everything clear. He had a hard time holding back laughter when he realized he was receiving the call.
"He's not going to answer you, sweet thing." His voice came out taunting even with the voice modulator.
Your hand reached for his mask. If you were strong enough-which you certainly weren't-you could have easily torn it off. Noticing your fingers gripping the black fabric, Ghostface grabbed your wrist.
"He's stronger than you." Your voice came out in a near-tense whisper. "My boyfriend. Even if you kill me. He'll find you. He's smart and strong."
"Oh, is he going to kill me, princess?" Ghostface released your wrist and used his hand to squeeze your face, your lips forming a pout, and it took everything in you not to rip off his mask and kiss him. However, that feeling quickly faded when you kicked him between the legs.
Ghostface screamed in pain, his voice modifier barely able to mask his tone with how loud it was. It was your chance to escape, if it weren't for his free hand—the other one was comforting himself where he'd been hit—grabbing your ankle and causing you to fall hard. "You...!"
You struggled, but he easily pinned you to the ground, stomach down. For God's sake, he almost lost his mind; lucky for you, he wasn’t in the mood to stay single that night.
Even though it wasn't in his pre-defined plans—or even in his current ones—to kill you, he wasn’t going to let it slide. Yes, you were his girlfriend. Yes, you were terrified, and it was justifiable. And yes, he loved you. But every action has its consequence.
His gloved hand left his crotch and tangled in your hair, his fingers gripping tightly to stop any further rebellion from you. Not that there was much chance of that, given that his heavy body was pressing you firmly against the ground; now, there was no way out.
"Damn it, I was going to play nice, but you just had to pull something like that." The killer gave your hair a sharp tug, and then a small yelp escaped your lips as you received a smack on the butt. And hell, you didn’t know whether it was his strength or the leather glove, but one of them—or maybe both—made that cursed slap hurt.
You didn’t even know where his knife had gone with how fast things were happening, but from your point of view, it wouldn’t be long before he drove it into your stomach.
You felt his weight lift off your body, but there wasn’t much time to think about it, as Ghostface was already dragging you by the hair to the bed, where he sat down. He forced you to kneel, still holding onto your hair. For a moment, his fingers relaxed imperceptibly as you gazed at the empty black eyes of that mask with your adorable, tear-streaked face staring back at him.
⋆ ★ loudly woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of a fire alarm going off in the dorms, you were smart enough to grab a blanket before you left. too bad the cute guy a few rooms over forgot to do the same, and he looks cold.
cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, up to you whether you want ethan to be ghostface here or not it’s not mentioned ,, fluff ,, ethan doesn’t know how to talk to people ,, gn!reader
PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone sorry if funky =)
the graphite-lullaby hidden deep in the city seemed to bring you a sense of security lathered in warmth and the feeling of a fluffy and soft blanket wrapped around your body like a self made cocoon.
as you lay there, cozy and safe while feeling the surroundings around you all fade away as you surrendered yourself to the night, eyelids droopy and body giving its final notice for the day; there was only one thing on your mind, and that was nothing at all.
at least, that’s how it was.
a loud screeching sound you could only identify as a fire alarm seemed to rip itself through the sound barrier, blazing a blinding white light through under the cracks of your door and the frenzy and panic of students hustling through the hallways stirred you away from the rest of your sleep you were desperately chasing after.
though you wished to ignore it, to flip over and continue into your peaceful bliss, you knew better, mumbling tired insults and swears under your breath at the idiot who probably started the fire.
scooting out of bed, blanket still wrapped around you and hair going in what felt like every which way, you slid on some shoes as quickly as possible, reaching for your phone with a yawn and holding it close to you while walking up to your door, flinging it open and immediately being met with a mass of students fleeing down the hallways.
you wanna let out an agitated sound but decide against in, shutting your dorm door behind you before finding a spot along the crowd to escape the building from, scampering through the halls and down the stairs to exit the building.
into the rich tapestry of a darkened blue your shoes meet the stoney pavement of the outside, walking along the path to find yourself located now in the blackmore university dorm room school parking lot where almost a hundred other students were, talking to their friends in awe about the situation and already starting small and useless gossip about what could’ve happened or who started the flames.
you find yourself standing alone under the lucid moon, a cold night breeze dancing it’s way past you.
classmates were swarmed all around like a hive of insects, blankets and jackets alike covering the bodies of others as the chilly wind made itself known.
you glanced around, hugging the security of your own cloth material closer to your body.
you’re unsure what to do, standing around as you wait for the okay signal to go back in. you could be outside for minutes. it could be up to an hour.
in the sea of bundled up students, your gaze landed upon a familiar figure standing alone, hugging himself in a futile attempt to ward off the biting cold. it was ethan, the shy boy from a few dorms down, now shivering without the warmth of a blanket or jacket to call his own.
his usually neat hair was disheveled with bed head, sticking out in awkward tufts from the chill. his arms were wrapped tightly around his slender frame, hands clutching at the thin fabric of his shirt. the material did little to protect him from the elements and you could see his teeth chattering slightly as he tried to stamp his slides against the icy ground.
despite the darkness and chaos of the other students surrounding you both, there was something about ethans solitary figure that caught your attention. maybe it was the vulnerability he exuded, or perhaps the fact that you had shared a few awkward smiles in passing before. whatever the reason, you found yourself drawn to him.
tucking the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you made your way over to where the curly haired boy stood, the cold night air nipping at your heels. as you approached, he glanced up, his brown eyes wide and startled. a faint blush crept up his neck as he noticed your approach and he quickly dropped his gaze, staring down at his slides peeking out from under his pajama pants.
"uh, hi," ethan stammered, his voice slightly hoarse from the cold. "did you.., did you need something?" he rubbed his arms, trying to generate some warmth. the chill was evident in the goosebumps prickling his skin and the way he hunched his shoulders.
you stopped a few feet away from him, the blanket wrapped snugly around you. "i was just going to offer to share my blanket," you said, gesturing to the extra material draped over your shoulders. "you look pretty cold, and i have enough room under here for one more."
ethans eyes widened in surprise and he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. he glanced down at your blanket, then back up at you, a mix of gratitude and disbelief on his face. "oh, um, thank you," he finally managed to say, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the boys flustered state, finding his awkwardness oddly endearing. "well, we can't have you turning into a human popsicle out here," you teased, shrugging off a portion of the blanket and taking a step closer to him.
his gaze flickering from your face to the offered blanket and back again. he swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing in his slender throat. "i, um, i don't know what to say," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "i don't want to impose..."
you rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head. "don't be silly," you interrupted, reaching out to drape the extra blanket around his narrow shoulders. "its not like I'm going to let you freeze to death out here."
as you settled the blanket around him, your fingers brushed against his arm and you felt him shiver, though whether it was from the cold or your touch, you couldn't be sure. the blanket was a bit too large for his slender frame and he had to tug at it a few times to get it to stay put.
"there," you spoke with satisfaction, "much better. you look like a cozy little mummy now."
the landry boys blush deepened at your words, spreading across his cheeks and even dipping down to color the tips of his ears. "a mummy?" he repeated, sounding slightly scandalized. "i don't know if i should be flattered by that comparison."
shrugging, you grinned at him impishly. "well, you know what they say - if the blanket fits..." you quipped, letting the joke hang in the air between you.
he opened his mouth as if to retort, but then closed it again, shaking his head in rueful amusement. "that… was horrible," he said, but there was a note of fondness in his voice that belied the words. a ghost of a smile even threatened to reveal itself beyond his lips.
ethan let out a soft, surprised laugh. "though i suppose i should just be grateful you're not trying to shank me underneath this thing and bury me alive, blanket and all."
you couldn't help but grin back at him, feeling a sense of camaraderie blossoming between you in the midst of the chaotic evacuation. "i did say you looked like a cozy little mummy," you pointed out, leaning in closer to him as you spoke. in doing so, your shoulders brushed against each other, the combined warmth of your shared blanket and proximity creating a pleasant contrast to the biting cold.
the brunettes breath hitched slightly at the contact, and he glanced down at where your shoulders touched, a faint blush still dusting his cheeks. "i suppose i should count my blessings then," he murmured, a hint of playfulness entering his voice. "though im not sure id make a very good mummy. id get too restless and try to claw my way out of the wrappings."
"probably," you agreed, nodding sagely. "you don't strike me as the patient type." as you spoke, you realized that you were still standing quite close to him, your faces mere inches apart. the soft blanket draped over your shared shoulders, cocooning you both in a warm, intimate space amidst the chilly night and the chatter of your dorm mates.
his gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, there was a charged silence between you. the air seemed to still and you had the sudden, crazy thought that he might lean in and close the scant distance between your lips. but then he blinked and the moment passed.
"guess you've got me all figured out then," his voice dropped to a soft whisper, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "though im not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." he mumbled under his breath, and there was a note of something unreadable in his voice, a hint of meaning beneath the words. you decided to ignore it, not wanting to pry.
it was a heady feeling lingering in the air, one that made your heart race and your skin prickle with something more than just the cold.
but as quickly as it had come, it had gone. he cleared his throat, glancing away as if suddenly self-conscious about your proximity.
"anyway, um, thanks again for the blanket," he said, fingering the edge of it nervously. "youre.. really nice to share it with me like this."
shrugging, you tried to act casual even as your pulse continued to flutter in your chest. "its no big deal," you assured him, though you knew it was a small lie. sharing your blanket with the boy felt like a big deal, even if you couldn't quite put your finger on why.
as if sensing your thoughts, he glanced back at you, a tentative smile on his face. "im still glad you did," his voice was gentle, a warmth coated in his words that didn’t quite reach the depth behind his intense eyes that bore into yours. it was like he was this flustered shy school boy and this cocky, intelligent and confident student all at the same time.
you felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words, and you found yourself smiling back at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. "yeah," you agreed, your voice just as soft. "no problem."
for a moment you simply stood there, shoulder to shoulder, sharing your blanket. it was strange, you thought, how you could feel so at ease with someone you barely knew. but then again, maybe it wasn't so strange after all. sometimes, you just clicked with people, and there was no rhyme or reason to it.
suddenly, a gust of wind whipped through the parking lot, sending your hair flying and the blanket fluttering. ethan let out a startled yelp as the cold air hit his face, and he instinctively leaned closer to you, seeking shelter under the blanket.
you laughed at his reaction, your eyes sparkling with mirth. "careful, the wind might carry you away like a tumbleweed," you teased, teasingly holding onto the blanket to keep him anchored.
he rolled his eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "ha ha. very funny." sarcasm laced his words, but there was no real bite. "ill have you know im not that easily blown away."
"oh, that right?" you challenged playfully, a mischievous glint in your eye. "from where im standing, you look like a human kite in this wind."
his smile widened, a hint of laughter escaping him. "i would at least be a cute kite. or a cool one." he retorted, a note of playfulness in his voice.
you couldn't argue with that assessment, not with the way his chocolate brown hair was whipping around in the wind and his eyes were sparkling with humor. "cute" was definitely the right word for ethan in that moment.
you grinned at his response, feeling a surge of warmth that had nothing to do with the blanket wrapped around you. " youd be a cute kite." you teased, bumping your shoulder against his in a friendly gesture.
ethan blushed at your words, ducking his head slightly to hide the reddening of his cheeks. "i, uh, i wasn't..." he stammered, before catching himself and shaking his head. "n-nevermind."
you chuckled, amused by his flustered state. he huffed, but you could see the smile he was trying to suppress.
he opened his mouth, eager to find some sort of retort to half-ass, but hesitated, closing his mouth again.
the second time he goes to open it, he gets cut off.
a sudden announcement crackled over the loudspeaker. "attention all residents, the fire was a false alarm and the building has been deemed safe after inspection. you may now return to your dorms."
around you the sea of students began to stir, the chatter and murmurs growing louder as they prepared to head back inside. Ethan glanced up at the sound, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the news.
"well, that's good," he said, a note of relief in his voice. he shifted as if to move, but then paused, seeming to remember the blanket still draped over his shoulders. he looked at you questioningly. "should we, um, should we head back too?"
you hummed, tugging the blanket a bit tighter around yourself. "we shall," you agreed.
he nodded and fell into step beside you as you began to make your way back towards the dorms. the blanket draped over your shoulders, binding you together.
as you walked, you couldn't help but steal glances at ethan from the corner of your eye. his cheeks were still tinged pink and he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, as if determined not to meet your eyes. it was cute, really, how easily you could fluster him.
a gust of wind caught the blanket just as you finally made it inside the building, threatening to pull the cloth off your shoulders. ethan stumbled slightly, and instinctively, he reached out to grab onto you, his hand finding your wrist. "whoa," he said, steadying himself. "sorry about that."
you acted on impulse, enjoying his touch too much and suddenly feeling bold and not wanting ethan to stumble again. as he regained his balance, you reached out and grasped his hand, lacing your fingers with his. the boys eyes widened in surprise at the sudden contact, and he glanced down at your intertwined hands before meeting your gaze.
"careful," you said softly, a playful smile on your lips as you guided him to walk closer to you, your hands still clasped together. "wouldnt want you to fall and take me down with you."
his blush deepened to a shade of red you didn't think was possible, spreading from his cheeks down to the tip of his nose. he swallowed hard, his adams apple bobbing. "i-i, um, ‘m being careful," he said, his voice slightly hoarse and extremely quiet.
you and ethan walked hand in hand through the now quiet school halls, the ruckus fading as more kids made it to their rooms. the only sounds were the distant murmurs of your fellow students who hadn’t yet made it inside and the soft shuffling of your feet on the linoleum floor. the emergency lights cast an eerie glow, casting long shadows that danced and swayed with each step.
the brown eyed boys hand felt warm and slightly clammy in yours, a testament to his nervousness. you could feel the delicate bones of his fingers, the calluses from where he gripped his pencil too tightly as he studied. it was a comforting feeling to have his hand in yours. it almost gave you a sense of responsibility, too. like you had to guide him to safety.
as you turned the corner, the long hallway stretched out before you, leading towards the dormitory wing. ethan's arm continued to brush against yours as you walked, the contact sending a little shiver down your spine.
ethan stumbled slightly, his foot catching on the carpet. he tightened his grip on your hand, and instinctively, you pulled him closer to steady him. he collided with your side, his shoulder pressing against the back of yours.
"shit! s-sorry," he mumbled, his face flushed and his gaze downcast. "im not usually this clumsy, i swear.” he trails off in embarrassment.
you giggled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "its okay," you said, your voice soft and reassuring. "ive got you.”
he swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "i, um, you, ah..." he stammered, his usual awkwardness amplified by your comforting tone.
you couldn't help but find his reaction endearing, the way he got all tongue-tied and red-faced at the slightest bit of kindness.
as you continued your walk down the hallway, closer to your room, he seemed to lean into you slightly, as if seeking comfort and support.
suddenly, just before you reach your door, ethan stopped short, pulling you up with him. "wait," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "i just wanted to, uh, thank you. for everything." he glanced down at your intertwined hands, then back up at you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "youve been really nice to me tonight."
you smiled softly at his heartfelt thanks, feeling a warm glow spread through your chest. "of course," you said, giving his hand a final squeeze before gently pulling your fingers from his grasp.
with that, you reached up and tugged the blanket off of ethans shoulders, tossing it over your forearm. he looked down at the fabric, then back up at you, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
"don't be a stranger now," you said with a playful wink. "and try not to miss me too much until our next fire drill."
ethan blushed, a shy smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. "ill try not to," he said, but there was a note of hesitation in his voice that made you wonder if he was telling the truth.
you turned and slipped inside your room, closing the door softly behind you. for a long moment, you leaned against the door, a silly grin on your face as you replayed the events of the night in your head.
on the other side of the door, ethan stood frozen, staring at the now closed door as if he could see right through it. the intense, blazing look in his eyes softened into a thoughtful gaze, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face.
a fierce feeling bubbled in his gut, a confusing mix of gratitude, longing, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. he pressed a hand against the door, as if trying to preserve the warmth and closeness of the moment, before letting out a soft sigh.
his heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the closed door. the intensity of his gaze could have burned a hole through the wood, so consumed was he by the sudden overwhelming urge to see you again.
he didn't understand it.
this feeling that had taken hold of him.
It was new and scary, but also exhilarating in a way he had never experienced before.
all he knew was that he couldn't let this be the last time he talked to you.
` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : i would suck the meat off this man btw :3
Ive never seen a dom reader x stu marcher before PLEASE BIMBO I NEED IT
Sucking him off, riding him, edging him, face riding him, mommy kink, idc FEED ME—
-VoxisDaddy
warnings — mommy kink, dom reader, sub stu
summary — Sub!Stu Matcher headcanons/drabble
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Stu as a sub would be so clingy, all over you, begging to be punished.
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 He wants you to beat the shit out of him. Oblige, and he’ll be all over you.
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Unlike Billy, there’s not even any deep seated psychological reason for this, he’s just a freak, and he wants you to fuck the hell out of him.
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Suck him off until he’s begging for mercy, which he will. But then he’ll go back on his word, and beg you to keep going. “C’mon, more! I can take it, mommy I swear!”
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 He gets a sick kick out of being tortured by you, so don’t let him cum for hours. Make his dick pink and runny with pain because he’s needed to cum for just that long.
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Ride his face while he’s tied up so he can’t even touch himself. Is his face wet from your cum or his tears? Neither of you know.
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 He’s be so whiny about what he wanted, as if he deserves it. “Mommy, I know I was bad — But I can make it up to you,” He’d offer.
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 But he deserves to be punished, which is lucky for him, because he wants to be. Badly.
a/n — I’ll go back to Inside job/Gravity falls in november. But now everyone should send me Bill Loomis and Tate langdon requests… yknow if we really wanna talk bout having a mommy kink..
Summary: At one of Amber's infamous parties, Tara's feelings get more and more complicated as she starts getting to know you.
Warnings: Fem!Painter!Reader, slow burn, mentions of sex, alcohol and partying, minor angst, non canon/high school
w.c: 6.9k
So, the glitch in the matrix seemed to be lasting much longer than you anticipated.
You did your best to forget the interaction you'd had with Tara and, honestly, that hadn't been such a difficult task. You still had a life, after all, and the rest of your day was divided into making preparations for the volunteering you'd be doing at the hospital during the weekend, studying and trying to make any progress on your painting.
Unfortunately, the last task proved itself to be annoyingly impossible, no matter how hard you tried. You'd tried everything from throwing random brushstrokes at the canvas to staring at the blank space while upside down in your bed, which filled your brain with blood but not with ideas.
There came a point when you had to admit defeat, at least for a day, and you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself from what seemed to be your greatest artistic failure. Your plans were to doomscroll through all possible social media and try to get the slightest bit of inspiration, but your attention was grabbed by a text notification coming from your Instagram.
From the username, it was clear that the text had been from none other than Tara Carpenter, which made your heart race a little in response. Your profile was a bit hard to find because there were no photos of you, which meant that Tara specifically had to look for you for a while. What's more, your profile was basically an exhibition of your artwork and the idea of someone other than your friends and teacher looking at all your projects made you a little anxious.
The texts themselves contained nothing much, apart from Tara apologizing for taking your pen (which you didn't even remember lending, to be honest) and then trying to strike up a conversation by asking you about Freddy vs Leatherface. Even so, noticing that she'd made an effort to keep on talking to you left you swooning.
You answered, of course. It would be rude to leave someone on read, wouldn't it? And besides, you were already planning to procrastinate anyway, so why not be nice and talk to Tara for a few minutes?
Who cares if minutes became hours, right?
And when school started the next day, you felt lighter, somehow. To your relief, no one seemed to remember your disastrous stumble the day before (probably because few people remembered you in general) and so you didn't have to deal with any giggles or weird looks.
You were in the middle of getting some books out of your locker when a familiar pen levitated into your field of vision. Your gaze followed the tanned arm that was holding it and you were met with long eyelashes and a sly smile.
“I'm a woman of my word! Here's your pen.” Tara raised the object towards you, making a funny reference to the text she had sent you the day before.
You rolled your eyes in amusement, although you couldn't hold the expression for long due to the corners of your lips lifting involuntarily. You took the small item from her hand and quickly put it in your bag. “Thanks, it's good to know you're not a thief. Did you at least bring one pen today?”
She understood the light, false accusatory tone in your voice and raised her hand, showing two fingers raised in a V. “Haha. Just so you know, I brought two today.”
It was amazing how instantaneous and right that conversation felt, almost as if it was the kind of thing you did all the time and not for the first time. Talking to Tara was surprisingly easy and you could see at least a friendship blooming between you in the near future.
If it weren't for the fact that she hangs out with the most insufferable people in the world, of course.
The reminder of Tara's group of friends hit you like a thunderbolt and made your chest ache for some reason. The words of both Ethan and Mindy echoed in your head, warning you to be careful, but a large chunk of your mind also insisted on reminding you of Anika's more positive opinion on the topic.
You turned to your locker again, pretending you were looking for something that didn't even exist. “I could never manage with just one pen.” You added politely, not wanting to leave Tara's joke unanswered just because your thoughts were getting muddled.
“I know. Artist and all, aren't you?” The girl nodded and you could see out of the corner of your eye as she leaned on the locker next to you, crossing her arms while still looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Hey, don't you feel like going to a party tonight?”
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as you processed what she had said, but Tara remained completely unbothered by your side. As far as you knew, the Carpenter girl didn't usually throw parties, but Amber Freeman did, and she'd instituted a very specific rule about them ever since she'd thrown the first one during your freshman year:
Invite only. No losers allowed.
And, as far as you knew, in Amber's opinion you were included in the word “losers”.
“I don't think so.” You shook your head. “Amber's throwing this party, isn't she? I don't have an invitation and I don't even like parties that much.”
Tara laughed out loud at that, causing a few heads to turn in your direction and your cheeks to heat up like coals. “I'm inviting you, ain't I? and seriously! I've never even seen you at the boring school parties, how are you supposed to know if you like parties or not without ever having tried them?”
Okay, you weren't expecting Tara to rebut your arguments or be so insistent about your presence. Was it getting warmer or was it just your impression? “But... I don't even know anyone who's going, I'll probably just stand in the corner the whole night. And also, I have an appointment the next day, I can't, like, go wild...”
Unexpectedly, Tara let out an even louder laugh, this time even wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. “Go wild? You're hilarious.” She controlled her breathing, still keeping a bright smile on her face. “You don't have to drink if you don't want to, no one's going to force you. And about the being alone part, you can invite those friends of yours. Amber won't mind, she wants more people at her parties anyway and she refuses to call sophomores and below.”
You looked at her with surprise and suspicion. Invite your friends? Did Tara remember that your friends included Mindy Meeks-Martin? Like, basically Amber's number one enemy, Mindy Meeks-Martin?
Tara finally noticed your wary expression and sighed, uncrossing her arms and raising both hands in a peaceful gesture. “Look, Amber said I could invite nice people and I think you're nice. She'll be busy with other things anyway, she probably won't even notice that your friends are there.”
You bit your lower lip, considering your options. On the one hand, parties weren't exactly your natural habitat and you still had your doubts about whether or not you were welcome there. On the other hand, Tara had been so kind to you lately and... for some reason, you wanted to explore it a little further.
“Can I give you an answer later? I'll ask my friends if they're going.” That's what you decided to answer, choosing to leave your conflicting future in the hands of your dear companions.
Tara nodded a yes and complemented the action with a shrug. “Okay. But even if they decide not to go, I think you should give it a chance.”
Suddenly, the bell for the first period echoed in the corridors, waking you both up to the fact that you had to be in your classrooms in a few seconds. As lockers closed and teenagers ran to avoid being late, Tara lazily turned around and started walking away, ending your interaction.
But you didn't want it to end so soon. In a impulsive act, you raised your voice. “What should I wear?”
Tara turned as soon as she heard you and her eyes slowly traveled up and down your body as a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat broke out on her face. “Wear something pretty! But I think you were already going to do that anyway.”
System crash. Your brain shortcutted. Did Tara had just...? No, she couldn't have possibly... checked you out? Were you seeing things?
As Tara's back got further and further down the corridor, you ran back to your classroom, muttering on the way, “God, I'm really not your strongest soldier.”
_
“I need to ask you something.”
You were extremely nervous. Your fingers kept drumming on the table and your brain was desperately trying to think of a way to convince your friends to A) go to Amber's party with you and B) not think you were out of your mind.
Tara's words (and her actions, by the way) really made you consider that crazy possibility. On any other occasion, you would have denied it as quickly as possible and then run away, but you were finding that Tara Carpenter could be extremely convincing.
Mindy swallowed a piece of the sandwich she was holding, making a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I’ve told you before, we have no interest in a throuple.”
Sitting next to her with her feet propped up on her girlfriend's lap, Anika raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. “Who says we don't?”
“What?!” Both Mindy and Ethan shouted, although the girl clearly got the joke and was just going along with it, while the boy seemed really bothered by the idea. You and Anika let out a loud chuckle and you smiled at her in appreciation, knowing that she had joked around just to make you less nervous.
With the mood more relaxed, you took a deep breath and said the words in rapid fire, fearing that they would never come out if you lingered too long. “Tara invited me to Amber's party and she said I could invite you guys. Would you go with me? Please?”
“Absolutely not.” Mindy quickly denied your request, putting on an angry expression. “And why would you want to go to a party like that, anyway?”
“That's right, only assholes go to that kind of thing.” Ethan agreed with the girl, looking equally annoyed by your suggestion.
Your eyes turned to Anika in a plea for help and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Opening her famous warm smile that reached her eyes, she grabbed Mindy's arm and pouted. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeease, I've always wanted to go to a party like this. We can just go and laugh at people being dumb.”
“We can laugh at people being dumb at school literally all the time, I don't need to be at Amber Freeman's house for that.” Mindy objects, but it's obvious that she's already starting to give in to her girlfriend's charms by the way her face looks more peaceful.
Anika looked in your direction and you understood that you would have to stay in that ping pong game of arguments until the other two gave in. “Amber won't even notice we were there! Tara said there would be too many people for her to handle.”
“Aaaand,” Anika added, moving even closer to Mindy, almost sitting on her lap on that narrow wooden bench. “Our theme for the A.V club project is literally young and reckless! What's more young and reckless than Amber's parties?! We'll get some great material if we go!”
Mindy considered the proposal for long seconds that left you on the edge of your seat. You knew Ethan would probably go if you all did, so it was really all in the Meeks-Martin girl's hands.
Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. “Okay, I'll go. But I’m warning you, if Amber even looks in my direction, I won't answer for myself.”
Anika squealed, grabbing Mindy's face and pulling her close to kiss her cheek, which clearly got the girl flustered even though she only replied with an “alright, alright”. You smiled at this, feeling a mixture of amusement and relief at knowing that your friends had agreed to embark with you on this madness.
Ethan hadn't necessarily agreed yet, but when you looked in his direction, he sighed dramatically, so that his brown curls moved with the wind. “If you're both going, I think I'll go to keep y/n company. So she won't be a third wheel and won't be bothered by idiots, you know?”
You thanked the boy with a pat on the shoulder and his smile automatically widened. Across the table, Mindy laughed. “Oh, I don't think you have to worry about y/n getting third wheeled, Ethan. Tara invited her, did you forget?”
“Holy shit. I have to tell Tara.” You remembered your conversation with the girl earlier, rushing into her DMs and completely ignoring the jokes and teasing from the girls in front of you.
You just hoped they could also ignore your completely flustered behavior.
_
We're going!
A simple message had made Tara's day a thousand times better. She'd forgotten how insufferable Amber could be on party days, as well as the fact that Liv had spent the whole day acting like a pick-me-girl because Chad had been spending much more time on his phone than with her lately.
She'd put her best Casanova act into play when she'd spoken to you earlier, but somehow your sense of humor made her break character and just act like herself, which was something she couldn't remember doing so freely in a long time.
Of course she had appealed for a bit of her charm at the end, but she just couldn't hold back when you had opened up such a perfect opening for her to flirt.
“You should really thank me, you know that?” A familiar voice whispered close to her ear and soon pale arms wrapped around her neck in a grip that bordered on uncomfortable. “I basically handed you your challenge on a platter by letting you invite those weirdos.”
Tara was annoyed by the comment and she quickly disentangled herself from the hug, bumping into Amber and her devilish expression. The shorter girl huffed, fixing her clothes and hair as if that was the real reason she had walked away.
At least this time she didn't turn red. That was progress.
“Shut up. If anything happens, it'll be my merit.” Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, walking along with Amber and the other students to the exit after another tiring Friday of classes.
The taller girl didn't even mind Tara's protests, shaking her head as if she didn't believe the freckled girl’s words. “Anyway, at least you'll be busy while I'm doing someone and won't be bothering me the next day.”
They walked out the door and fortunately Tara could already see Sam's car parked not far away. The girl turned her face in the opposite direction of her friend’s, pretending it was due to the sun and hoping Amber hadn't seen the pained expression on her face. “Whatever. See you later, Freeman.”
“See you later, Carpenter!” Amber shouted back, but Tara didn't turn around to wave goodbye and kept her head down until she reached the old sedan her mother used to drive. At least that was until she was no longer sober enough to hold a steering wheel.
Inside the car, Sam raised her head when she heard the door open and close after Tara got into the passenger seat. She started to back out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her younger sister who seemed to be upset beside her. “So... how was school?”
“Don't fucking start.” Tara muttered, putting on her headphones in a quick move to isolate herself from the world and from an older sister who suddenly wanted to be there for her after abandoning her alone with an alcoholic for a year.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, trying not to think about how Amber really got on her nerves sometimes, or think about the guilt that was starting to rise up inside her after being rude to Sam for nothing. Why couldn't her mind stop working for just one minute?
But as she tried to make her own thoughts go blank, a pleasant memory surfaced. Tara remembered your conversation earlier, the way you could understand each other's moods and how genuinely happy she was that you were going to the party for her.
Maybe, if she just kissed you and hid the real reason behind everything, you could even be friends after all. Maybe she could even convince Amber that you were a nice person, so that you could hang out with them.
Of course, these were only wishful thinking, but Tara wanted peace and, at the moment, the utopian idea of having you around gave her that exact feeling.
_
“Okay, now give me a spin.”
You turned in your place at Anika's request, being mindful to not to get out of the sight of your phone camera, which was leaning awkwardly on your desk. Your room was a mess of clothes scattered all over the place, highlighting your intense search to decide on the perfect outfit to wear for the party.
“So?” You asked your friend, who had her attention split between the video call and her own elaborate makeup.
Anika seemed to finish her analysis on your look while you were about to start trembling with anxiety. You trusted the girl's fashion sense more than anything and you swore you could have started crying if she said that your outfit wasn't good. Fortunately, her response was a positive nod and a satisfied grin. “Oh, you look so cute!”
You looked down, once again staring at the outfit you had chosen, which was a comfortable one, but neat enough to let people know that you had put some effort into dressing up.
Receiving compliments had never exactly been your strong suit, but as much as you felt awkward about Anika's comment, you couldn't get Tara's recommendation out of your head. “Yeah, but do I look pretty?”
“Of course you do! Cute, pretty, it's all the same!”
You frowned, still feeling annoyed. Fashion had never exactly been your forte and that fact was your Achilles heel at the moment, since you still weren't convinced that “cute” and “pretty” were the same thing. In your opinion, Tara seemed to be the type who liked pretty girls, but not cute girls.
Or maybe it didn't make any sense at all and you were just going crazy at the thought of spending the next few hours in a house full of people you either didn't know or didn't like. Besides, when did you start caring about the kind of girl Tara liked?
“I can hear your thoughts from here, you know?” Anika called out, making your head snap out of that internal cycle of overthinking. “Is this all to impress Tara?”
“Ugh.” You grunted, flopping onto your bed oblivious to the dozens of clothes that were crumpling under your body. “No? Maybe? I don't know.”
You felt ashamed of the situation, even though you knew Anika wasn't the judgmental type. Your feelings were still confusing and you definitely didn't feel ready to admit that you thought about Tara more than you should, but there was also no way to hide something that was so obvious.
“Hey, it's okay, you know? Actually, I'm glad to see you're interested in someone.” Anika replied kindly, which made you work up the courage to sit up, staring at your friend's genuine expression through the screen. “I know you're worried about Mindy and all, but Chad's always nice to me when I go to their house and it was super easy to do some school work with Wes for our calc class.”
She continued, “What I mean is that Tara could still be a nice girl for you, no matter how much there's this Romeo and Juliet thing going on between our groups.”
“It's not that. I mean, it is a bit, but also...” You sighed, trying hard not to run your hands through your hair and make it look messy. “... I don't think she'd be interested in me. I mean, she's been giving me these signals but, I don't know, maybe she does it with everyone?”
Anika tsked, shaking her head and giving you a playful smile. “I've never heard of Tara being a player.”
You groaned again, turning your face away as if the act would somehow stop you from feeling so flustered. Anika laughed in response. “Just enjoy the moment! You already know she's the straight forward type, don't you? If she wants something from you, I'm sure she'll get it.”
“Anika!” You shrieked, appalled by what she was inferring. Your entire face seemed to be engulfed in lava as your friend laughed even louder at the clear shock you expressed.
“What?! The world needs more people like that, you know? That's why I'm going to take the initiative to run away to a corner with Mindy at the first opportunity and-.”
“Ew! No! Stop talking! Please, you're my mother figures!”
_
The walls of the house seemed to shake under Tara's fingers as she leaned on it, making her way to the bathroom in slow, crooked steps as she cursed quietly at the amount of people crowding into the hallway.
They were screaming with joy, slurring the lyrics of the extremely loud song that was playing on the huge speakers in the living room, echoing throughout the house and possibly the entire block. Thank God, Wes had already taken care of his mother.
Tara groaned the whole way, feeling like pushing away all the sweaty, alcohol-altered people who bumped into her shoulder, unable to see properly through the colored lights that made the place look like a nightclub. She sighed in relief when she finally found the bathroom, opening the door and locking herself inside without caring about the noise it made.
She turned on the lights and leaned on the sink with both hands, leaning over to look at her reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes and her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat. God, how could she have been so shaken up by a measly hour of partying? She used to be able to take a lot more.
But she also knew exactly what had led up to it and the smell of alcohol on her lips wouldn't let her lie. She thought she was going to have more fun, but her evening became much more difficult after she saw Amber stick her tongue down the throats of at least three people right in front of her, making a point of giving Tara a thumbs-up afterwards, almost as if she was trying to annoy her friend on purpose.
Tara tried everything to make herself less bothered. She'd danced, she'd watched some people play 7 minutes in heaven, she'd even flirted with a few people just for fun, but in the end, what had stopped her blood from pounding furiously in her ears had been the beers stocked in Amber's basement fridge.
She stopped after the third one, after she felt tipsy enough. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter, who didn't know her own limits and fell asleep on the living room carpet because she didn't have the strength to walk to her own room. And the drinks helped for a while, but now that the sweat had evaporated the effect of the alcohol on herself, her headache left her one scream or punch away from going insane.
Tara splashed water on her face, oblivious to the fact that her makeup was getting smudged or her bangs got even wetter. At this point, she no longer cared about much other than surviving the rest of the night.
Once she had pulled herself together, she sighed and left the bathroom, expecting to be dragged into the living room by the crowd of teenagers dancing and jumping around like wild animals, but instead she ended up being bumped in the opposite direction, almost knocking her off balance.
“Oh my God, I'm sorry!” Gentle hands rushed to hold Tara up before she fell and she followed the length of the arms with her eyes until she bumped into a familiar face. It was you, who was now staring at Tara with a frown. The girl couldn't help herself and looked you up and down, mentally appreciating the way you were dressed.
You quickly took your hands off Tara's shoulders, rubbing them anxiously. The girl felt a tug in her chest as she remembered that she had invited you and you most likely should have spent all this time looking for her, while she was drinking and whining about not having the attention of the biggest bitch in Woodsboro. Drunk and abandoning people? Wow, the Carpenter women's genes never fail.
“I didn't realize you'd already arrived.” Tara broke the awkward silence, mentally thanking you for being upstairs and being able to talk without having to shout over the hip hop track playing in the living room.
You looked away, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. It's been a while.”
Tara nodded, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she realized that you had clearly been annoyed by her absence. She tried to strike up a conversation again, wishing she could somehow put a smile on your face. “What brings you upstairs? Not enjoying the energy of the party?”
“I was looking for the bathroom.” You sighed, hugging your elbows. “Actually, I was more looking to escape to the bathroom, because I was planning to hide there until my friends decided to leave.”
“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Tara joked, but the smile on her face hardened when she realized that you hadn't laughed along with her.
Tara felt terrible. Sure, you'd only had a few interactions before, but all of them had proved that you could understand each other easily. Now, Tara didn't know if it was the party, if it was her or something else that had made you look so uncomfortable, but she was determined to make it up to you for being an idiot.
“You know, I think I have a better hiding place than a small bathroom.” She leaned towards you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Are you interested?”
You scrutinized the girl's face and she couldn't help but be disappointed that you didn't even seem to be affected by your proximity as you usually would. Your arms were crossed as you felt suspicious of her offer. “Don't you have to go back to the party?”
Tara made a dismissive gesture with her hand and started walking down the large hallway, looking for a specific room. “Nah, I've been to so many of these that it's lost it’s spark to me.”
Technically, it wasn't a lie. Tara was sick of that party and she'd love to have a distraction from the fact that Amber was now probably at her body count number 100 and Tara wasn't talking about dead people. But then again, she felt strangely committed to making you have at least a little fun and she really liked your company.
Maybe it was just because she felt bad for having invited you in the first place. Yeah, that must be it.
She opened Amber's bedroom door, barging in without hesitation and heading straight for the window, opening it all the way. Behind her, you seemed slightly alarmed by the idea of simply invading the personal space of a girl who could make your life a living hell. “Uh…”
But before you could really protest, Tara put one leg out of the window, glancing in your direction with a playful smile. “Trust me. You’re not scared, are you?”
“I’m not scared, but trusting you? After you invited me to a party you’re trying to escape?” you replied, making Tara's smile widen as she realized you were starting to open up again. “And what are you doing at the window, Rapunzel?”
Tara chuckled, pointing your way. “Wait and see.”
In a swift motion, she raised her hands to the roof platform above her head, pushing off Amber's window with her feet to gain enough momentum to pull herself up with extra effort from her arms. Still holding onto the edge, Tara hung upside down, looking at you through the window with her bangs sticking up. “So, are you coming or not?”
You snorted lightly with the sight, shaking your head as you approached the window. “I’m no Spider-Man. If I fall from here, it’ll be your fault, and I hope they write it down as homicide.”
“Good to know you have so much faith in me.” Tara answered, kneeling on the roof tiles and extending her hand for you to grab. You hesitated for a few seconds, and honestly, Tara couldn’t blame you for it, but she kept looking at you expectantly, trying to communicate with her eyes. Let me make things right with you.
She almost sighed in relief when you finally grabbed her forearm, letting her help you up slowly, pretending not to notice how her hands ended up on your hips. All in the name of making your night a little less boring, of course.
But wow, your body felt... warm.
It didn’t take long for you to pull away from Tara, clearing your throat and sitting on the roof beside her. It would be hard to stand for long due to the slope, but the spot was comfortable enough for you to sit or lie down without the risk of rolling off.
The roof was quite high, not tall enough for you to see the entire city, for example, but high enough that the people below you looked like tiny ants. Ants that were dancing, having fun, and throwing cups of beer at each other.
“Do you come here often?” you broke the silence, but Tara saw the exact moment you winced, realizing way too late the double meaning of your words. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”
“It’s all good.” Tara laughed, considering saying something to tease you even more, but she ultimately decided against it , feeling a bit sorry for your embarrassed state. “And no, to answer your question. I used to spend a lot more time up here before, but now…”
She let the sentence trail off, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe the last time she had been on that roof was the day Sam had gone to rehab, two years ago. Which, looking back now, was probably around the same time Amber stopped being a caring friend and started being the friend that thought Tara complained too much.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few more seconds—or as quiet as it could be with two massive speakers blasting music two floors below. Tara glanced to the side, staring at your face, which seemed more focused on the starry sky, illuminated only by a few beams of moonlight.
Like she had felt in the car earlier, that sight gave her peace. It wasn’t like looking at Amber, which made her feel like her organs were being squeezed and thrown into an erupting volcano. Looking at you made her feel like a sea breeze was brushing against her face, a comforting, peaceful gust of wind.
Tara’s eyes drifted down to your lips, and she had to run her tongue across her own. Amber’s challenge lingered in the back of her mind, and she was tempted to test if your kiss would be a better distraction than the cheap beer she’d grabbed from the basement.
But suddenly, Tara felt self-conscious. Maybe it was the fact that the idea had been Amber’s, and she was still too annoyed with the girl to give her the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because she could still taste the alcohol in her mouth and didn’t want you to taste it too.
Or maybe it was something else. Something gentler and softer that even Tara couldn’t quite describe yet.
“Oh, look!” Tara snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw you excitedly pointing at the sky. “You can see Orion so clearly!”
She followed the direction of your hand with her eyes, feeling confused about what exactly she was supposed to be looking at. That particular night was cloudless, which made the vast array of stars shining in the dark sky exceptionally beautiful.
You noticed the lost expression on the girl’s face beside you and chuckled. “Orion? The constellation?”
“Oh, yeah. I… I know.” Tara just nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for not being sure what you were referring to. She knew what a constellation was, of course, but she had never studied them in much detail, and in her eyes, all she could see in the sky were random stars, beautiful but completely scattered.
You laughed again, not buying Tara’s excuse for a second after seeing how confused her eyes looked. Gently, your hand held hers as you started pointing out the constellation with both of your hands joined together.
“See those three stars close together? That’s what we call Orion’s belt. It’s much easier to spot the rest of the constellation starting from there. Up there, kind of making a triangle, you have Meissa, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix, and if you look to the side, it kinda looks like he’s holding a bow.”
Tara wanted to pay attention to your explanation, but her brain turned to mush the moment your hands got entangled, and her heart started pounding like the drums in a heavy metal song. You, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the action, which made Tara feel even more like an idiot.
Wow, what was in those drinks?
“You really know a lot about this,” she said, trying to sound normal, even though her voice felt like it could crack at any moment. You smiled at the comment, letting go of her hand to play with your fingers in your lap.
“One day, I had this brilliant idea to paint constellations on my bedroom ceiling—or at least most of them—and I had to do a ton of research to make sure it looked right.” You laughed, and Tara realized she wanted to hear that sound more and more.
“It’s cool that you’re a painter. It’s different.” She wanted to keep the conversation going, eager to learn more about any detail you were willing to offer, but she didn’t exactly know what to say. For someone who usually had no trouble expressing herself, Tara seemed to have forgotten her entire vocabulary.
Luckily, you seemed to be in the opposite situation, feeling comfortable enough to keep talking. “I guess so? I’ve never thought much about it before. Painting is a lot more than just a hobby for me—it’s more like a safe haven, you know?”
Tara nodded instead of giving a verbal response, especially because she knew exactly what you were talking about, but she didn’t have the words to express how much she needed a conversation like this—so simple, yet so healing.
She reached into the pocket of her jacket, slowly pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the constellation?” Tara asked, mentally kicking herself when she heard how vulnerable her voice sounded.
Her tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you looked at her with a bit of confusion, but soon after, your eyes softened, shining with kindness—almost as bright as the stars above your heads. “You don’t have to ask me to take pictures of the sky, but do you want me to point it out again?”
“Sorry, old habit.” She shook her head to snap out of it, feeling her cheeks heating up as she started opening the camera app and aiming it upward. “But yeah, please.”
Slowly and gently, you took Tara’s hands again, working together with her to make sure the constellation was perfectly centered. You were close enough for Tara to catch the pleasant scent of your perfume, but she forced herself to stay focused on the picture you two were trying to capture.
After a few successful shots of Orion (which Tara planned to edit later to make it more visible and color-corrected), the two of you lay down side by side, admiring the night’s beauty in another moment of shared, comfortable silence.
_
Now, the silence inside Sam’s car wasn’t as comfortable.
It was the first time Tara had asked Sam to pick her up from a party, especially as late as 2 AM, considering the younger Carpenter always used to sleep over at Amber’s once everything wrapped up.
But after you left, Tara completely lost the desire to stay. The music was dull, she had no interest in drinking or playing any games, and she definitely didn’t want to be around her friends anymore.
She sat in a thoughtful silence, her head resting against the window, watching as the asphalt disappeared behind the car doors. The soft hum of the engine served as background noise since Tara didn’t have her precious headphones, but she’d spent enough time around loud music for the night anyway, so her ears were begging for a break.
“Did you… have fun?” Sam asked cautiously, as if Tara were a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. The younger girl sighed, feeling guilty for being the reason behind the hostile distance between them.
She already felt guilty about enough things. Maybe it was time to start lifting some of that weight off her shoulders.
“I guess I did.” She nodded, watching Sam’s surprised expression at her genuine response. The look made her seem younger, reminding Tara that Sam wasn’t that much older than her. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember seeing Sam so carefree since she’d returned, but her anger hadn’t exactly allowed her to notice the little details. “I had a good time.”
“Good,” Sam replied, trying to hide a satisfied smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. In the passenger seat, Tara did the same, feeling a tiny bit of happiness from the small progress they’d made. Small steps were important.
The car fell silent again, but it felt less heavy, and Tara figured it was because Sam was tired and still had to focus on the road for at least another 10 minutes. Taking advantage of the pause, the younger Carpenter pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, going straight to her gallery and searching for the pictures she had taken earlier.
Most of them were of the sky, capturing the fateful (and now familiar to Tara) constellation of Orion, which made her think of the feeling of your hands on hers. Two others, however, were a bit more personal for her.
She zoomed in on the photo, staring at the profile of your face bathed in moonlight as you smiled brighter than the stars. She had taken the picture in secret, an impulsive urge to capture not just the moment, but you. Tomorrow, she could blame it on the alcohol, but tonight, she would give herself the privilege of gazing at your carefree expression for a few long seconds.
You had probably spent hours talking on the roof, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Tara wanted more. She needed more. Even though she’d never considered herself to be possessive or clingy, she couldn’t help but want to explore every little piece of your world as if it were the most beautiful piece of art.
A sudden thought crossed her mind, and Tara quickly opened Instagram, this time taking her time to scroll through and really appreciate each of your paintings. As she studied the pieces you had displayed, she mentally kicked herself for not having done it sooner. It was clear that you drew inspiration from the Renaissance, and that people were your greatest muse. There were few self-portraits, but Tara recognized some of your friends in the works.
She was so captivated that she felt a strong urge to knock on your door and ask you to tell her the story behind each one, just for the pleasure of hearing your voice. But, well, it was 2 AM, and she didn’t even know where you lived.
And, of course, she wasn’t that crazy.
Still, she decided to slide into your DMs, sending you five of the photos you had taken of the sky, taking the opportunity to wish you a good night. Would sending a heart emoji be too much? She decided against it. The photos would be enough.
But Tara still wasn’t satisfied with her exploration, so she ventured into your stories, looking for anything that could give her more reasons to talk to you. It turned out to be a great decision, because she struck gold.
You had posted an announcement from Woodsboro Central Hospital earlier, calling for volunteers for a special event dedicated to bringing joy to children hospitalized with cancer. The flyer said that any help was welcome, from telling stories to dressing up as superheroes, and Tara couldn’t stop wondering what you had signed up to do.
Without wasting any time, she navigated to the hospital’s profile, hoping they were still accepting applications even though she was texting them literally seven hours before the event.
Hi, I’m interested in volunteering! Would you need a photographer?
Hauling a trash bag in one hand, (Y/N) shot off some quick texts with just his thumb, though it proved difficult when it kept wiggling and nearly slipping from his grasp. He gave a quiet, frustrated huff and stuffed the phone into his back pocket once he grew closer to the room where the apartment building's trash chute was located, small grumbles leaving him until he shouldered the door open and noticed another person inside.
Immediately, he slapped a polite smile on his face and barely glanced at his presumed neighbor. He learned quickly that only a select few residents living in the building actually wanted to befriend their neighbors; everyone else smiled politely and nodded stiffly without stopping for a greeting. Coming from a small, tight-knit town, the difference was startling.
The person, a girl he noted from the long hair, stood right in the corner of his eye, lingering. He would've assumed she needed help getting her trash down the obnoxiously small chute but there were no bags in her hands or resting near her feet. "(Y/N)?" She spoke quietly, her voice... familiar?
(Y/N) shoved his bag into the chute and took a breath before craning his head to look over his shoulder. It took him a moment, his sluggish brain still settling down from a long workday, but one good look at her face and a tidal wave of memories slammed into him.
Samantha fucking Carpenter. His high school ex-girlfriend who'd left a simple breakup voicemail before disappearing off the face of the Earth, only to reappear on the news following the massacre that ransacked their small town for what felt like the fourth or fifth time.
"Sam, Jesus... I feel like I haven't seen you in ages." He didn't think it'd be appropriate to mention he'd seen her plenty of times being blasted all over social media or shit-talked by the students of Blackmore University. He gave his trash bag another hearty shove so it finally tumbled down the tub. "How many years has it been since we ended things? Nine? It's good seeing you."
"Eight, actually." Sam corrected him softly, her arms curling around herself. She looked somber, melancholic, sober. A part of him felt guilty for being surprised with her sobriety, though, after everything she and her sister went through, he couldn't say he'd blame her for relapsing. "Yeah, uhm.. I'm sorry for everything. I really am. I should've- I don't know, been more considerate? I shouldn't have left like that."
"It's been eight years, Sam. All that's in the past now." He chuckled and dusted off his hands, offering her a half-shrug after. "I didn't think you'd end up in New York, though. What brought you to the city?"
"Tara, actually. She and her friends are attending Blackmore now. I, uhm.. I don't want her wandering the city without someone keeping an eye out for her." Sam let out a long sigh and brought her hand to her shoulder, her fingers kneading into her muscles. God, she really did look tired. He couldn't begin to imagine what went through her head. "I never thought I'd be the helicopter type but..." She shook her head. "What brought you here?"
His shoulders straightened and he grinned. "I work at Blackmore, funnily enough. It's my first year teaching Art History. I haven't seen Tara but if she takes Art History at some point, she might end up in one of my classes. Can't say I'll play favorites, though."
The ghost of a smile passed over her face and she laughed softly. "I'll tell her to keep an eye out for you. I think she liked you more than me."
"Yeah, well, I won her over by buying her ice cream all the time so I wouldn't take it personally."
Despite the years, and the heart-shattering way they parted, talking to Sam felt refreshing. There'd been a point in his life where they'd been best friends, even though they spent most of their high school years getting into trouble and making themselves extremely acquainted with the local cops. Things were different now; they were older, more mature, and with plenty of life experience in their back pockets.
"I'd love to catch up sometime, Sam." He told her gently. "I've got plenty of stories to tell."
Sam smiled again, this time wider. "I'd like to hear some, then."
