HEYY! excuse-me đ„ș can you do some hcs (sfw/nsfw) of sam dating a girl like "golden retriever" "hyper energy" and "hooded child who doesn't stop in place" girlf ?
thank you for requesting!! âĄ
GOLDEN RETRIEVER HCS || SAM CARPENTER X READER đ€âË.
warnings: none :)
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
- sam carpenter isnât really known for her expressive nature - she tends to keep her emotions close to her chest unless sheâd certain she can trust you.
- so when her friends and sister find out that sheâs dating you - the human embodiment of sunshine itself - they can hardly believe it.
- because sam was⊠well, sam. and the pair of you were just so different; you were always so damn cheerful and had enough energy to rival a small child on a sugar rush, and as endearing as that was, it hardly fit into samâs reserved and careful nature.
- but the two of just seemed to work - especially given just how enamoured sam is with you. the way you smile especially has her weak in the knees, all flustered like sheâs suddenly a teenager in love.
- the way you smile alone is enough to make her day, so itâs a damn good thing that you grin at practically everything: when you wake up and see that the sun is shining, when your favourite song comes on the radio, and - samâs personal favourite - when she finishes work and you look at her like sheâs the centre of your entire universe.
- the best part of her day is when you run into her arms after a long shift, telling her just how much youâd missed her whilst she was gone. and with the way you kiss her, all gentle yet so damn eager , she can certainly tell.
- usually, sam canât deal with rambling at all. it gets on her nerves, and thereâs not enough people that she tolerates enough to potentially listen to for that long. but with you? god, sheâd listen to you talk for days.
- she just sits there, nodding and smiling like an idiot as you ramble on about some movie you just watched or a cute dog you saw on your walk home - sometimes, she has no idea what it is that youâre tracking about, but she doesnât even care - not when youâre so damn cute when youâre passionate.
- showers you with gifts - but feels totally embarrassed to give them to you. stands there awkwardly as you squeal over your new necklace, but canât help but chuckle as you literally throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her so tightly that itâs a wonder you donât break any bones.
- swears that it isnât a big deal (she spent an obscene amount of money on it) and she only got it because she was near the store (youâd said youâd liked it weeks ago, and you deserved only the best). legend has it that youâre the only one that can make sam carpenter blush.
- you drag her everywhere with you - literally. you hold onto her hand and move from place to place so quickly that you might as well teleport, trying desperately to enjoy everything all at once.
- âwait, sam!! look at that! oh, itâs so great, do you see it?? itâs adorable!!â
âyeah, i see it princess - almost as cute as you.â
- the way you hurry around also means that sam keeping an eye on you becomes second nature; sheâs always prepared to reach out or hook an arm around to ensure that you donât trip over your own feet.
- seriously. sometimes she wonders what happens when sheâs not there to catch you - although she does her damn hardest to make sure thatâs never the case.
- sam is understandably already overprotective of those she cares about, but with you, she turns it up to an eleven. mostly, itâs because she worries - you were so sweet to everybody, and she didnât want anybody to try and take advantage of that.
- she takes this very literally - glaring at almost every new person you introduce yourself to.
- itâs nothing you havenât noticed though, and you canât help but tease her for it. she just grumbles and says youâve âturned her soft,â even despite the fact you can both she sheâs smiling like an idiot <3
- you both also know that you have her wrapped around your finger without even trying - sam never has been able to say no to your puppy dog eyes.
- you definitely rope her into matching with you - whether itâs with makeup, outfits or accessories (she 100% wears a necklace with your initial on it <3)
- given your alreadyâŠhyperactive nature, sam admirably tries her hardest to keep you away from caffeine - nothing good comes from that combination, trust her. you just think itâs sweet that she cares, and even if you donât always take her advice, you appreciate her always looking out for you.
- on a semi-related note, your sleeping pattern isnât the most regular, but when you do fall asleep, more often than not, it just happens to be on sam - whether itâs her shoulder or her chest, your girlfriend has had to resign herself to the role of personal pillow.
- not that she minds, and her heart definitely melts when she sees just how peaceful you look.
- you have a habit of wanting to try everything - meaning youâve tried your hand at basically every hobby under the sun. painting, pottery, crocheting - you name it, youâve probably wanted to try it at some point. even though you usually end up growing bored and inevitably give it up, sam keeps souvenirs from all of your endeavours and treasures them all, her favourite being a painting that, if you squint hard enough, shows the two of you on some sort of date.
- sam had never been somebody who revived a lot of compliments growing up, but with you? every single day, you make sure to let her know just how does ik she is to you and how much you love her, plain and simple. she doesnât know if youâre aware just how much that means to her, but gif, she hopes you do.
- youâre possibly the only person- maybe even including tara - who can get away with calling her stupidly sappy nicknames.
- theyâre corny as hell and make no sense half of the time, but they come from your heart - and sam canât help but adore that fact.
- after a mere few months into your relationship, the difference in samâs apartment is palpable: the table never is never not decorated with flowers you bought because âarenât they just the prettiest things youâve ever seen?â, photos of the pair of you are tacked up onto the fridge with heart magnets and all of your belongings are strewn across the place like you live there - which, at this point, you might as well.
- being around you in general just allows sam to relax immensely - your energyâs just so infectious that being around you instantly puts her in a good mood, and she loves the way you encourage her to be better without even trying.
- and, as sappy as it sounds, every moment sam spends with you, she finds herself becoming more and more completely enamoured with you <3
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amy x all scream women pls đ
wow amy⊠canât believe youâd ask me to write this when Iâm actually already in a happy and committed relationship with all of them smh ://
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hii, can you please do a liv mckenzie x fem!reader headcanon? like, an enemies to lovers where liv doesnât like reader at first, then slowly falls for her. thank you sm <33
thank you for the request, writing for liv is so fun <3 hopefully this is what you wanted!!
ENEMIES TO LOVERS HCS || LIV MCKENZIE X READER đ€âË.
warnings: swearing, fem!reader, mentions of reader wearing makeup, a little bit of chad bashing but itâs just for story purposes⊠I love him i promise <3 Iâve never done enemies to lovers before so sorry if anything feels off or rushed
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
- the funny thing is, nobody even really remembers why you and liv are seemingly incapable of getting along together.
- all anybody knows is that innocent conversations within the group slowly divulge into petty arguments between you and liv, snarky comments exchanged constantly.
- for example, one time, a conversation about where everybody wanted to eat quickly turned into a utterly unrelated spat.
- âliv, did you even listen to a fucking word I said just then?â
- âno, because every word you say is stupid!â
- âwow, harsh. how long did it take you to come up with that one, hannah montana?â
- âyou know, Iâm not stupid. maybe if you got off of your high horse and stopped judging me for once-
- âwhy should I, when you make it so easy! besides, if you want to talk about judgementalâŠâ
- chad and wes think the two of youâll work it out eventually, tara doesnât understand why you canât just be real friends, amber thinks the bickering is completely entertaining (and instigates most of the time) and mindy thinks you both just need to make up (and make out).
- from why you can tell, liv thinks youâre a prissy, pretentious know-it-all.
- and from what liv can tell, you take her for a shallow party girl with more mini-skirts than brain cells.
- you both try your hardest to avoid each other, but seeing as she was dating chad and tara had been your best friend since youâd moved to woodsboro, so were forced to run in the same circle - because why should one of you have to make new friends just to avoid her?
- but it seems the universe just seems to hate the two of you - because you were forced together constantly.
- you have to sit next to eachother in chemistry and art, and you both live practically right next next door to each other- meaning you walked the same route and, when wes would offer to give you all a ride home, youâd be huddled in the back seat with liv whilst everybody else got dropped off first.
- and you mean huddled; youâd be so close that your legs were touching and you could smell her perfume (it was infuriatingly perfect and reminded you of strawberries and summer and warmth - not that youâd ever tell liv that, though).
- when sheâs feeling particularly annoying, liv has a habit of flashing you her most shit eating grin - mostly because she knows it irritates the living hell out of you.
- seriously, most of the time, you want nothing more than to wipe it straight off of her face.
- âliv, I swear, if you donât stop that right nowâŠâ
- âwhat are you gonna do about it, huh? we both know youâre not gonna stop me- that would require little miss princess to lift a perfect finger!â
- but fine, whatever. she could be as immature as she wanted - you werenât going to rise to her bait - except from all the times you did, obviously. you regarded yourself as being better than that.
- arguing over partner work in class, and making sure liv knew when youâd scored higher than her in a test.
- really, it was just all pettinesses - but in your defence, it was always liv that started it (at least, you think it is - nowadays, itâs rather difficult to keep track).
- one friday night, when the rest of your family was out of town, youâd thought youâd invite a few people over.
- though, of course, when chad and mindy were involved, a few people turned into practically half of the school.
- seriously, your house was filled to the brim with people you didnât even recognise - which meant you inevitably bumped into someone and, just your luck, spilt the entire contents of your drinks down the front of your shirt.
- and aw, damn it, youâd liked that shirt. so you were forced to go upstairs in an attempt to find something else to put on - except, when you open your bedroom door, the last person you expect to see is liv mckenzie.
- a crying liv mckenzie, nonetheless, sitting on your bed as mascara runs down her pretty face. and as bad as it sounds, a part of you is tempted to pretend you saw nothing and creep back down to the party, stained shirt and all.
- the thing is though, deep down, you know that it wouldnât be right - no matter how much you and liv tended to disagree.
- you uncomfortably shuffle beside her as she looks up from her spot on your floor, all teary eyed.
- âshit, Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to intrude in your room. I can go-â
- liv apologising to you is never a good sign, so you catch her arm and slowly urge her to sit back down, imploring whatâs wrong.
- âitâs chad! he fucking dumped me- he says thereâs somebody else! you know what, I bet itâs tara- Iâve seen the way the look at each other! god, how could I be so stupid?â
- and, oh. you though chad and tara were a little touchy-feely, but youâd never suspected it was like that. and youâd definitely thought chad had more decorum that to dump liv at a party for one of her best friends. god, what a moron.
- you tell liv exactly that - albeit a little awkwardly - and she gives you a smile at that. a real smile.
- âyou really think heâs a moron?â
- âyeah. moron, asshole, whatever you want to call him- that was totally shitty of him! and you deserve better than that - better than him.â
- so you change your shirt and sheepishly, you offer to help liv fix hey ruined makeup. and when your fingers brush against her skin as you apply a fresh layer of concealer to her face, you definitely donât feel jolts of electricity run down your spine. you donât.
- but you do go to bed that night, after everybody else has finally left, replaying that rare, real smile on a loop in your mind. and you try not to think about what that means.
- and after that night, you make more of an effort. you really, honestly do.
- because when you arenât too wrapped up in yourself to notice, you realise that liv doesnât exactly have it easy within the group, what with mindy and amberâs apparent dislike for her as well as your own.
- and sure, she was irritating at times, but that didnât mean everybody had to call her out on it, right?
- you donât magically get along immediately - how could you, after months of pointless arguments? - but you seemed to have forged a civil, unspoken agreement; you were the only ones who could insult each other now.
- and even then, insult was too harsh of a word - the jabs became more light hearted, and you slowly found yourself often laughing in retort instead of being on the immediate defensive.
- as much as it pained you to admit it, you start to find yourself often having actual, genuine fun with liv.
- which somehow, happens to lead to the pair of you spending more one-on-one time.
- and before you know it, youâre suddenly going to the mall together, picking out clothes for yourself and each other.
- you find yourself visiting to a lot of museums too, because as it turns out, liv has a total interest in all types of art - and god, who wouldâve expected that? maybe you, if youâd actually taken a chance to get to know her when you first met her.
- you start to notice a lot of things about her that you never had in the past: the way she pouted when she was confused, the way she fiddled with her jewellery when she was nervous, and the way most of her necklaces were completely handmade.
- the more you found out about her, the more you wanted to know.
- the first confession between the two of you comes when you were hanging out in a cafe near your houses.
- âyou know, I never really hated you,â liv randomly says into the quiet as you take a long sip of your milkshake. âI thought you were annoying as hell, but I never hated you. we just irritated each other- thatâs the way it always was with us.â
- you take a second before you speak yourself. âyou know, I donât think I ever really hated you either. hell, I canât even remember why I was supposed to dislike you in the first place.â
- the realisation is so stupid that you canât help but laugh, and suddenly, everybody else in the place is staring at the two of you as you giggle over the ridiculous nature of it all.
- by then, the two of you are inseparable. liv even seems to be getting over chad, and she doesnât even flinch when she sees him and tara holding hands.
- you know the two of you have really bonded when amber comments on your newly discovered friendship, saying how weirdly quiet it is without the bickering and that she wishes youâd hate each other again.
- you both pointedly ignore that comment - well, liv does give her the finger, but thatâs neither here nor there :)
- the real confession - rather ironically - comes in the place where you realised that liv mckenzie wasnât as bad as youâd thought she was; your bedroom. youâre both sprawled out on the bed, legs messily intertwined, as liv flicks through some shitty magazine and declares that sheâs found a makeup look that she wants to try out on you.
- âcome on, itâll be funnn!â she promises, and she looks so adorably desperate that you canât help but give in to her.
- and before long, you find yourself fully vertical on the bed, with liv somehow ending up practically straddling you as she paints your eyes and lips a bright pink .
- âstop moving,â - she warns, so close that youâre breathing in that perfume or hers again. you take a breath, and if fills your lungs once more. âseriously!â she says as you stir, dragging a thumb slowly across the bottom of your lip. âsee, youâre smudging it!â
- you donât care about that, though. it doesnât even cross your mind. no, instead youâre too focused on how you can see the brilliant blue of livâs eyes perfectly from this angle, how her pretty pink hair tickles your throat as it spills over her shoulders. how soft her lips look from down here.
- youâve barely even registered what youâre doing before youâre suddenly leaning up, your lips pressed against hers in an instant. you know sheâs not expecting it, what with the way her body tenses up and she all but drops the brush in her hand.
- and no. youâve gone and ruined it all, youâve kissed liv and why would you do that because sheâs never going to talk to you again and you didnât even know you liked her like that and-
- and sheâs kissing you back, and itâs absolutely perfect. itâs everything youâd never known you were missing in life, and you canât help but wonder that if you hadnât wasted all that time arguing, you could e been doing a hell of a lot more of this a damn lot sooner.
- but you just promise yourself youâll have to make up for all of that wasted time <3
- when you walk into school the next day, hands interlocked, amber nearly throws up, tara gives you a cautious thumbs up, and mindy - well, mindy said it was just a matter of time, and declared that wes owes her 15 bucks.
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
(had to insert THE iconic wlw reference pic I was thinking of when I wrote this)
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ILLICIT AFFAIRS | BILLY LOOMIS X READER đ€âË.
summary: you know heâs in a relationship. you know that this is wrong. but somehow, you just canât seem to stay away from billy loomis.
word count: 1.5k
warnings: angst, cheating, billy isnât a great guy lol, reader is insecure, suggestive content, swearing, fem!reader
a/n: yes this is (admittedly a little loosely) based off of the taylor song⊠I never claimed I was 100% original!! idk what this is tbh but I havenât posted in a while so <3
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
Heâs barely opened the door before his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the rain and into his warm embrace. He doesnât even complain about your sodden state, lips crashing into yours as he clumsily backs you against the wall.
âIâm glad you made it, baby.â Billy murmurs in between kisses, voice low with lust. âFuck, I couldnât wait any longer. See what you do to me?â
God, it makes it so much easier when he talks to you like that. When he talks like he breathes just for you, like youâd hung the stars and moon. Itâs easier to pretend that way.Â
It doesnât take long. One moment, your legs are wrapped around Billyâs strong frame and the next, youâre laying beneath him on his bed, sighing as he works on your neck. The marks he leaves are purposeful, and theyâll no doubt be a pain to cover up tomorrow. You tell Billy exactly that, making sure to inject just the right amount of that teasing tone you know drives him crazy into your voice.Â
âGood,â he says lowly, âLets people know youâre spoken for. Canât have anyone touching whatâs mine.â He grinds down as if to emphasise his point, hips meeting yours in a way that sends a jolt of electric thrill through your bones.Â
At least, you think thatâs what itâs from; maybe itâs all simply down to his choice of words - mine. He knew what that did to you - what visceral effect it must have on you. Knew how much it meant to you to be wanted and desired and cherished by somebody like Billy Loomis. It was all youâd ever wanted.Â
ExceptâŠ
âExcept Iâm not.â Your voice barely comes out above a whisper. Billy comes to a halt, his lips moving from your collarbone as his brown eyes meet yours. He looks confused and vulnerable in a way that makes you sorry for even bringing it up, but you canât ignore it. Not now. Not today.Â
âYou are. You know that you are. You mean everything to me, just-"
âJust not as much as Sidney, right?â Her name tastes like ash in your mouth. It always came back to Sidney Prescott - sweet, smart, stunning, Sidney. The girl who barely knew you yet always made an effort to smile at you in the hallway and compliment your outfits. The girl whose boyfriend you were sleeping with behind her back.Â
From the moment heâd flashed you that charming smirk of his, you knew you were a goner for Billy Loomis. And youâd tried to fight it, you really had. He was bad news, all of your friends thought so, and most importantly, he had a girlfriend. Everybody knew him and Sidney were serious. And you were better than that, sleeping with a taken man.Â
Except, as it turns out, you werenât. Not really, anyway. He didnât even have to try to get you in bed with him, but after the first time, youâd felt so goddamn guilty that you swore it would never happen again.Â
Your resolve lasted an entire week. Billy was like a drug, alluring in every possible way and so entirely addictive. You couldnât stay away from him even if you tried. And although the guilt never entirely disappeared, it sure as hell became easier to ignore when Billy whispered sweet nothings into your ear and made you feel like youâd had everything youâd been missing your entire life.Â
âSidney?â Billy laughs, a sound almost as beautiful as he is. âSidney means nothing to me. Iâm going to blow her off, and then we can really be together, do it right.â
As awful as it is, the thought of that seems completely compelling. You want to be Billyâs, utterly and solely, more than anything on this earth. Besides, anything would be better than passing him in the hallway and pretending you donât know every fraction of him so completely intimately.  Pretending like heâs not the first and last thing you think of each day. Pretending that you donât solely wear the single perfume that he complimented once.
So intimately that you know that, at this moment in time, you canât believe a single word that flows from his mouth - no matter how desperately you want them to be true.Â
âBilly,â you sigh, turning your head away from his pleading gaze.Â
âCome on, sweetheart,â he replies rather impatiently. âYou know itâs-"
âComplicated,â you finish miserably. âI just donât get why it has to be!â
âLook, I canât talk about this right now. Canât we justâŠâÂ
He trails off, and his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. Itâs too easy to sink into it, to sit back and just let Billy take the lead and give you just what you want. Itâs damn near impossible to pull back, but by some miracle, you manage to do so.Â
âIâm just saying,â you protest. âIf you canât stand Sidney, if sheâs truly as bad as you say she is, why canât you just end things with her?â The sheer frustration that laces your tone is evident even to you. âI donât know if I can keep doing this Billy, itâs driving me insane, I-"
âWhat, so youâre mad at me now?â Billy scoffs, tone completely accusatory. âBecause you knew what you were getting into - youâre hardly innocent here, alright! I didnât trick you into sleeping with me - last I checked, you're perfectly fine with our arrangement when it means you get to be the one under me! So why dâyou even care, huh - in fact, why donât you do us both a favour and keep the fuck out of my business?â
You reel back as if youâve been slapped. Not because of what was said - you both know the words to be true, however deep down that is - but because of how much they hurt. You knew you were a horrible person, but you hoped that Billy saw you as more than that - you needed him to see you as more than that. And by the way he usually acted in your company when it was just the two of you, you thought that he did. When you were alone, he worshipped you. Fuck, the boy looked at you as if he was completely and utterly in awe of your mere presence. And heâd definitely never snapped at you like this.Â
Itâs one thing hating yourself for what youâre doing, but itâs another having the one person you love so deeply confirm all the ugly parts of your personality that you work so hard to keep hidden from the world.Â
He can evidently read the hurt written all over your face, and Billyâs once irritated gaze softens. âShit,â he breathes, and you canât tell if he genuinely sounds remorseful or if youâre naively hearing what you want to believe.Â
Itâs easier to go with the latter option.Â
You make a move to stand, but you feel a strong arm pulling you back down onto the bed below. âIâm so sorry,â Billy apologises, pushing a stray hair behind your ear. âIâm being an ass, I know that. I didnât mean to take it out on you, baby.â With your arm still in his tight grasp, it would be difficult to stand up without outright pushing him away from you. But with each hushed word Billy speaks, you find yourself wanting to stay more and more. After all, he was right. You were already guilty, and your dignity was clearly long gone. What would be the use in leaving? Itâs not like you could fall any further from grace.Â
Your eyes flutter closed as Billy kisses all along your jaw, mumbling apologies under his breath as he does so. âIâll fix everything, IÂ swear. Youâve just gotta trust me,â he vows before his lips suddenly move beside your ear. His breath is hot as he murmurs, âyou do trust me, right doll?â A small, pathetic whimper escapes from the back of your throat, and you find yourself nodding before you even decide to move.Â
âThatâs my girl.â The honey-sweet tone of his voice is enough to make you crumble, and your fingers desperately start to make work of undoing his belt. It doesnât take long, what with your hands working practically on autopilot. Billy takes the hint, and he eagerly pulls your shirt over your head with ease, strong fingers unclasping your bra once heâs finished.Â
Youâre making a complete fool of yourself, a bitter voice whispers at the edge of your mind. Heâs spelled it out for you, and yet youâre still here, letting him undress you like this. How pitiful.Â
Itâs not incorrect. Billy Loomis had undoubtedly made a mess of you. Ruined you. Before all of this - and God, how long ago that seemed now - you were good. You were headstrong and assertive, and youâd never been one to let people walk all over you. That girl was a far cry from the person you were now, and sheâd undeniably despise the idiotic fool youâd become. Â
You wouldnât exactly blame her, either. You know that when you get home, you wonât even be able to face your own reflection. You never can.Â
But you also know damn well that when Billy undoubtedly comes running back to you, because he does, every single time without fail, youâll blindly follow him right back into his arms - and right back into his bed.Â
Itâs awful. You know that, no matter how much parts of you try to pretend otherwise. Thereâs no sugarcoating it, no justification for your actions that arenât completely shallow and selfish. You just have to hope that one day, youâll snap out of it. If Billy doesnât choose you - accept you fully like the way you accepted him long ago - you like to think that one day, youâll have the self-respect to leave and tell Sidney the truth. Hope sheâd accept your shitty excuse of an apology. But as you lay here in this room right now, back arched and Billy in between your legs, you know that day wonât be any time soon.
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Hi!!!! could you please do some headcanons on what fake dating mickey altieri would be like?
hi sorry for disappearing for like two months, I got super busy but Iâm back!!
MICKEY ALTIERI AS YOUR FAKE BOYFRIEND đ€âË.
warnings: just swearing i think
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
- youâre prepared to give mickey a whole speech about all the reasons he should take this seriously and fake date you, and youâre half expecting him to shut you down in the first thirty seconds
- what you donât anticipate is him barely letting you finish your question before responding with a simple âsure thingâ with absolutely no questions asked before he fully launches back into whatever it was he was saying before
- you ask him about this later one and he eventually says âyou asked âcause you wanted my help, right? none of my damn business why.â
- none of his friend group even batted an eyelid when you announced you were âdatingâ - which may or may not have made you question things
- most of them just wondering what took the pair of you so damn long
- mickeyâs such a flirt anyway that not much changes between the two of you - apart from more physical touch
- and trust me, thereâs a lot of that
- even though mickeyâs already someone whoâs comfortable with physical contact, itâs like he dials it up to 11: if his arm isnât constantly fixed to your waist or shoulders, then itâs in your pocket, resting on your back or your thigh, ect.
- speaking of flirting, heâll tone down the flirting with other people and just crank it up with you instead
- he delivers the worst lines youâve heard but does it with that boyish grin and all around charm that somehow makes them work in a way they have no right to
- goes absolutely crazy with the pet names, 50% just to be a little shit and be purposely obnoxious, and 50% to see what sticks and what you actually like
- you walk on him watching corny romcom movies in what you assume is preparation and although mickey futilely tries to play it off, youâre not fooled
- eventually you just have to promise to never mention in front of anyone - it would apparently totally destroy his credibility when it comes to âreal cinemaâ
- semi-related, but heâd be the kind for a big âgrandâ gesture - think showcasing a film all about you to grab peopleâs attention and really sell everything - its a quintessential college movie trope
- drags you to parties that he wants to go to, and convinces you to dance with him - purely for the sake of realism, of course
- enjoys scaring off other guys that try and hit on you at said parties - he doesnât even say any anything overtly threatening, heâll either just make passive aggressive comments or just stare until they get the hint
- you honestly just think heâs having way too much fun with it but youâre willing to let it slide - his intentions are mostly good
- if you go out to an actual bar, mickey absolutely doesnât let you spend a dime (which you think is strange, since it doesnât make a difference to your fake relationship. still, you appreciate the gesture).
- a few of your friends think heâs at least a little bit of a dick but he treats you so well that they canât complain
- which again, mickey loves - he is nothing if not a petty little bitch
- when your hanging out with somebody who genuinely thinks the two of you are dating, mickey will often call you to âcheck upâ on you and make sure youâre okay
- has no problem with saying that he loves you, and makes sure to say it before he says goodbye (but he says it so easily and it sounds so genuine and it makes you wonderâŠ)
- will casually be talking to you in the hallway before class, but when he sees one of your friends coming heâll slowly and deliberately pull you into a kiss
- you canât help but be disappointed when he pulls back with a wink and a grin
- brings you lunch after class, which everybody finds sickeningly sweet and makes mickey look like the perfect boyfriend - which is pretty accurate, without, you know, it being a ârealâ relationship and all
- derek, randy and hallie tease him for how youâve âsoftenedâ him - and if you see swear you see mickey blush, well, thatâs either here nor there
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Angst and Fluff with Sam, Where itâs just sam getting angry at fem!r for going to the frat party, and some guy hitting on fem!r and trying to make r go upstairs with him, and r is too drunk to know whatâs going on, but sam saves her at the last minute. and it could have a fluffy ending!
thank you for requesting! finally living up to my username with this one
SO I WANDER THROUGH THESE NIGHTS || SAM CARPENTER X READER đ€âË.
summary: above <3
word count: 3.8k
warnings: fem!reader, mentions of drinking + eating, mentions/allusions of SA (it doesnât happen in the story though), violence (probably canon typical)
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
As soon as she walks into the room, the smell of weed, sweat and above all, alcohol, hits Sam all at once. Itâs enough to make her want to gag, but sheâs not leaving. Not yet.
She pushes through the sea of inebriated students, not even dignifying the way some of them huff or curse in displeasure with an angry response. The only thing she cares about is bringing you and Tara home. And honestly, sheâs begrudgingly grown to expect this sort of stupid behaviour from her kid sister, but you? You were better than this. At least, thatâs what Sam had hoped, anyway.
Sheâd asked you to do one thing. To stay away from one place, for one night. And the funny thing is, youâd promised. Sam could count the people she trusted completely on one hand, and you were one of them. So she - what was now proved to be stupidly - believed you when youâd assured her that you and Tara were going to stay in and watch the latest season of whatever show it was that the two of you had bonded over all those months ago. She really shouldâve expected this.
Sighing, Sam continues to make her way through the crowd, stopping once a familiar sound reaches her ears.
Sheâd recognise that laugh anywhere.
Her head whips around, following her line of sight until she sees you with your head thrown back as you down a glass of God- knows what, spurred on by Chadâs cheers and Ethanâs silent smile. Thereâs an unmistakable glint of triumph in your eyes, and it hits Sam that you donât even look sorry for lying to her face and going behind her back, and the realisation unmistakably stings. More than she thought it would. But seeing you here, blissfully unaware whilst she was going out of her mind worrying about you, serves only to frustrate her.
âHey!â Your head snaps up at that, and Sam doesnât miss the âoh shitâ on Chadâs lips. âHaving fun here, are we?
âSam?â You reply, and the woman doesnât know whether to be insulted or satisfied with your tone of surprise. Like you really didnât expect her to come after you. Like she would leave you here. âWhat are you doing here?â
âCould ask you the same thing.â Sam snarks back angrily. âWhat happened to a cosy night in watching TV with Tara, huh?â
You have the courtesy to look guilty at that. âThat was the plan, I swear. But then Tara made a whole deal about needing to be a normal teenager for once and then she gave me those damn eyes and-â
âAnd you got all dolled up and came with her? You couldnât say no to a damn teenager?â Sam recognises her steadily raising voice, and she knows that people are starting to stare. But she canât bring herself to care. âWhere even is Tara? You came here with here and you donât even know where she is? How fucking reckless-â
âSheâs with Mindy, Sam!â You cry out, evidently exasperated. Iâve been checking up on her and sheâs fine! Sheâs having fun! Sheâs allowed to live her own life - sheâs allowed to be by herself! We donât need to watch her every damn second of the day!â
âWhat, so know youâre telling me how to look after my sister? Is that what this is?â
You run a hand through your hair. âYou know that itâs not. And thatâs not even why youâre mad at me! Youâre mad because Iâm doing something you donât approve of - like Iâm not a grown woman who can do as she pleases!â
âOh, and what you want is to get drunk at frat parties, is that right? Your idea of fun is hanging out with all of these lowlife sleazebags? Yeah, sounds like a real fucking blast! I canât believe you-â
âThen leave, Sam! If youâre just here to insult me, just leave me alone and go home!â Your outburst stuns Sam into silence, and has her taking a step back once she realises how the close the two of you have become. Leave me alone. Sam doesnât think youâve ever said those words to her during your relationship, not seriously. Not like this. It was always the opposite, you ushering her closer like you were starved without her touch.
Neither of you speak for a minute, your pride getting the both of best of you. Sam feels the racing of her heart in her chest, the sound almost deafening even with the blaring music of the party.
âFine,â she finally bites out, voice not as steady as sheâd like it to be. âYou stay here. Get fucking wasted. See if I care.â She canât read the look on your face, and she doesnât try to discern it now. âIâm getting Tara and then Iâll be out of your hair. Enjoy the rest of your fucking night.â
She doesnât look back as she storms away.
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
Sam was wrong.
You werenât drunk - not properly, not yet - but you damn well would be by the end of the night.
âDonât you think that maybe youâve had enough?â Ethan suggest sheepishly. âI mean-â
The withering glare you send his way is enough to shut him up whilst you drain the cupâs content. You know that heâs only trying to look out for you, but youâre not in the mood for his niceties right now. Sam going off at you that had completely ruined your mood. You could deal with her accusing you of lying to her. You did promise her that you would stay at home tonight. You can understand how she might feel betrayed - feel hurt - by you doing the utter opposite.
What you couldnât stand by was her acting like you didnât have any agency of your own. Like getting dressed up and letting loose at a party was the worst sin imaginable. Granted, it was a shitty party full of people who you didnât even know, but the drinks were free and the atmosphere was decent enough. And youâre not about to let your loverâs spat with Sam ruin your whole night.
So you dance. You laugh. And most importantly, you drink. And suddenly, it becomes a lot easier to forget about the look on Samâs face when you practically screamed at her to leave you be. It becomes a hell of lot easier to forget about everything, the sway of your hips becoming almost automatic as you feel the music deep in your veins.
You canât even remember the amount of shots youâd taken by now. All you know is that a very drunken Chad had swore that he could do more than you, and ha - in his face, he was so wrong. And a lightweight, apparently. A lightweight throwing up in the bathroom, from what Ethan had worriedly told you before promising heâd be right back and to stay right there and please donât drink anymore whilst Iâm gone.
Ha. Jokes on Chad. You could handle your drinks. Mostly, anyways. And double ha, jokes on Ethan too, because you werenât drunk enough that you couldnât handle one more. And really, the drink was already in your hand, so itâd be a waste not to. Itâs a solid idea.
Itâs a horrible idea.
Itâs like that final drink sends you over the edge, because barely ten minutes after your last sip, your vision starts to blur and youâre
suddenly staggering backwards until youâre up against the wall. Your hand flies out to the side to look for something - anything - to grab onto, and your squeeze your eyes firmly shut as you try to focus. If your head was hazy before, it was spinning now. God, if Sam could see you now. Disappointed would be an understatement.
You canât think about Sam. About how horrible it was going to be going home with her mad at you. You find yourself sliding down the wall, sitting down being the safer option for your suddenly vertically challenged self. You need to think, think anything other than oh my God I am so fucking wasted right now. But you canât. Even the music becomes too loud, too difficult to comprehend, its words passing you by in a blur. Youâre not sure how long you sit there like that, head hung low as you sit on the bare floor, but with each passing minute you seem to grow more and more out of it.
You barely register the hand on your shoulder. You donât look up - canât look up- your gaze only raising when you feel yourself being hoisted up. And the face youâre greeted with isnât someone you know. You would recognise Chad or Mindy or Ethan or Anika. Even in this sort of state, you would.. But this guy is different. Tall, bearded, dressed as God knows who from God knows what. You open your mouth to object, but even the action seems too tiring. Still, a faint noise of objection escapes your mouth, and the man simply shakes his head.
âItâs okay, sweetheart,â he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. âI got you. Weâre just gonna have some fun, okay?â
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
Sam shouldnât have left.
She knows it when sheâs storming out the front door with an angry Tara in tow, and she knows it when sheâs practically halfway home. But you were both angry, and there was no point in even trying to reason with you when all she could think about was how youâd lied to her.
But she didnât want to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. She hated herself for making you feel like that, so cornered that youâd completely snapped at her. And sheâd deserved it. She doesnât regret worrying about you and your safety, and sheâd always be there to protect you. But you were right. You were an adult, and as much as Sam disliked it, that meant you could go to as many sleazy parties as you liked. You werenât as fragile as Tara, someone who she could mostly justify watching like a hawk - even though she probably did need to work on that too. You were you. Too perfect, too beautiful you. And Sam had gone and shouted at you like that.
Sam was no stranger to self loathing, but knowing she had potentially fucked it all up with you because she couldnât let go of the past, couldnât move past the idea that the world was out to get her, that she pushed away one of the most important people in her life. One of the only people in her life. At this point, loosing you would be like loosing a limb, and probably a hell of a lot more painful. You knew her better than anybody, knew here secrets, knew her story. And youâd accepted and loved her in spite of it. Made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world and help her believe that maybe, just maybe, Sam Carpenter was allowed nice things. And she couldnât leave things like that.
So she stops in her tracks, grabs Tara by the hand, and practically sprints back to the party, desperate to hold you close and tell you that sheâs sorry. For everything. She ignores Taraâs confused yells all the way back to the building, barely even able to focus on them.
Itâs getting late now, and people are starting to leave when she enters the room. She briefly wonders if youâre one of them, but even if you didnât want to talk to her, one of your friends wouldâve messaged to say that you were crashing at their place for the night. She glances over to where you were situated before, but doesnât see you. Or Chad or Ethan, for that matter. Maybe that was a good thing, and that it meant that you were all together. Or maybe they had left and you were all alone, a voice in the back of her head warns. Sam knows that youâre allowed to be independent, but she still doesnât like the sound of that.
She takes to to calling your name instead, and her cries become ever more frantic when thereâs no response. She doubts youâd hear her over the music anyway. With a sigh, she pulls out her phone and fires you a message.
Sam: I came back, and I just want to talk to you.
Sam: Iâm so sorry baby. I get if youâre mad, but we need to talk. Please.
She stares at the screen like it holds all of the answers. The answer to where you are. The answers to if youâre okay. If the two of you are going to be okay.
âOh my God.â Tara breathes out, and Sam feels her pull on her arm. âSam. Look.â
Her gaze snaps up, and sure enough, in front of her is you. Being practically dragged across the room because you canât even walk straight, some guyâs arm draped around you like- like he owns you. And it doesnât take a genius to figure out what heâs planning do with you - to you.
It makes her feel sick. And angrier than sheâs ever been before, her ire burning so deep in her chest to where she feels like itâs more a fuel at this point. And she knows, without a doubt, that sheâs going to kill this pathetic excuse for a man.
âHey!â She bellows, causing the sleaze and just about everyone in the room to look up. âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing with her?â
The thing has the audacity to bark out an ugly laugh at that. âRelax. Just helping her upstairs, arenât I baby?â
Baby. Like youâre his. Like youâd willingly be anywhere near his filthy touch.
You donât even answer him. Sam doesnât think you physically can.
âTara, grab her.â She says so lowly that her sister probably has to strain to hear her. Tara complies, and Sam steps forward, close enough that sheâs practically touching the guy.
âStep the fuck away from her. Iâm only gonna warn you once.â The danger in her voice is unmistakable.
âOr what?â What the hell are you-â
Sam doesnât let him finish. He doesnât deserve the privilege.
âYou piece of shit!â Sam yells as he cries out in pain, her punch connecting swiftly with his jaw with a satisfying crack. âDoes it make you feel good?â Kick. You think you can touch my fucking girlfriend like that?â Another punch.
Sam doesnât stop. Not even when heâs balled up on the floor, his body bloody and bruised. She honestly doesnât think she ever would stop, not if it wasnât for Tara crying out.
âSam!â She yells, her eyes wide. She shakes her head. âYou canât. She needs you.â
She looks over to you, still clinging on to Tara. Sheâs right. You canât stay here. She needs to take you home.
Her breathing still heavy, she spares one last look to the sick fuck still on the floor, writhing in pain pathetically.
âYouâre fucking lucky.â Sam spits out, standing tall over him. âYou deserve to be fucking dead.â
She doesnât get an answer to that. Doesnât expect one. Doesnât care.
The only thing she cares about is you. She drove you to this, she thinks, with all of her shouting and general over-protectiveness. And she doesnât - canât - think about what wouldâve happened if she hadnât found you. It makes her feels sick.
Sam makes her way over to your side, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She canât break. Not now. She needs to be strong - strong for you. You meet her gaze, your eyes widening ever so slightly.
âSammy?â You slur.
âYeah baby.â Sam whispers, slinging an arm around your free shoulder. âIâm here. Come on, weâre going home.â
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
The first thing you realise when you open your eyes is that your head feels as if it about to split open. Groaning, you sit up in bed, and try to remember how the hell you even got here and into your pyjamas. Itâs all such a blur, especially after your-
Your argument with Sam. Even just the memory leaves a distinct sinking in your stomach, especially paired with the fact that sheâs not in bed with you. God, sheâs probably still mad. The two of you didnât argue much, but God, you hated it when you did. It hurt, not being able to tell her how much you loved her or wrap her up in your arms. It was like loosing a part of yourself.
You can hear the TV on in the living room, and you take that as a sign that either Quinn or Tara is awake. Either that or Samâs in there, evidently too hung up on yesterday to stand the sight of you. Sighing, you rub your eyes, stupidly hoping that when you open them again, everything will have turned out to be some bad dream.
Youâre not so lucky.
Laying back down in defeat, you pull up the blanket and go back to feeling sorry for yourself. You really should get something to deal with the headache, but you simply canât bring yourself to.
You stay like that for a while, buried under sheets and contemplating your life choices until you hear a thunk on your bedside table. Wearily opening your eyes, you see a plate with a sandwich atop of it, and you move up your line of sight until you see who your personal chef is.
âYouâre awake.â Sam says simply, placing a glass of water and a tub of painkillers besides the food. âHope youâre hungry.â
You sit up once more, wincing when you move too quickly, and take the plate from the table. You murmur your thanks before taking a bite, and the two of you sit there in silence for a while. You know you need to say something, but you just canât think what.
Luckily, Sam speaks first.
âIâm sorry, baby,â she sighs. âI know I acted out of line yesterday, and I shouldnât have started that argument like that. I donât ever want to fight with you, I promise. Itâs just-â Sam pauses as she scrubs a hand down her face. âIâm sorry. Are we okay?â
âCourse weâre okay.â You smile. âAlways. Besides, it wasnât just you. I said I wasnât going to go, and then I went and did it anyway. That wasnât cool.â
âHey.â Sam says softly. âItâs okay. Youâre allowed to do what you like. Itâs one thing letting what happened to me define myself, but I canât let it ruin this. Ruin us. I donât want to loose you.â
âYouâre not going to,â you assure her. âYouâre stuck with me, whether you like it or not. You got it?â
Sam laughs softly, and you wish you could bottle it and listen to the beautiful sound forever. âLoud and clear.â She stops for a second, and something darker clouds her features.
âSam?â You question, instinctively reaching for her hand. Sheâs quiet for a minute, before she meets your worried gaze and speaks.
âBaby, do you remember what happened last night?â She asks softly, as if youâll break at the mention of the topic. Frowning, you try to cast your mind back to the previous nightâs event, but you only draw a blank.
âNot really. We fought, I had some more drinks. After that, itâs kind of a blur.â Thatâs the extent of your memories for the night, but judging by Samâs expression, thatâs not where it ends. It makes you uneasy. âSam, âwhat did I do?â When you speak, your voice is barely above a whisper.
Samâs expression softens, although she suddenly looks like sheâs about to burst into tears. âYou didnât do anything, baby, I promise,â she says, nearly far too quickly. âItâs just⊠there was this guy.â She spits out that last part as if it were venom on her tongue. âHe got a too close, tried to take advantage. And Iâm not telling you this to upset you, because thatâs the last thing I want. I just think you deserve to know.â
You canât respond to that. Not yet. Because you have no idea what to with that information.
âI took care of him.â Sam says suddenly, like itâs imperative that you know. âI wouldnât have let him hurt you. I swear to you, on my life, I-â
âSam. I know. I know.â You say, reaching to turn her head so that she can look you in the eyes. You may not remember much, but you donât doubt Sam when she says she took care of it - hell, if you know your girlfriend, then the asshole is probably just lucky to even resemble a human anymore. That thought should be frightening, but itâs oddly comforting, and leaves a welcome warmth in your stomach. âI believe you. Fuck, you know that I trust you. More than I trust anyone. And the fact you even came back- well, that says a hell of a lot.â
âI was always gonna come back.â Sam admits. âDoesnât matter how mad I was, I didnât want to leave things like that between us.â
âI know, baby. Thank y-â
âNo. Donât you dare.â Sam warns. âDonât thank me for doing the bare minimum. If you finish that sentence, Iâm gonna-â
She seems taken aback by your sudden movement, her hand moving to your face instinctively. You hope that the kiss portrays everything you need it to, says everything that you need your girlfriend to know. How much she means to you, and how grateful you are to simply have her in your life. Now you have her, itâs damn near impossible to imagine a life without Sam - your Sam. It sure as hell wouldnât as feel as good as this, you muse to yourself.
âLove you too.â Sam says when she reluctantly pulls away. She doesnât try to hide the smile on her face. âMore than anything.â And for a moment, Sam just stares at you, a look of pure awe and a stupidly adorable grin on her face. Itâs one that has you smiling right back despite yourself. âNow, you gonna eat your damn food or what? It was made with intense care, you know.â
You look over towards your forgotten sandwich, and you canât deny that youâre hungry. Still, that doesnât stop you from pouting and looking up at your girlfriend with what you hope are pleading doe eyes. âFine. But if I eat, can we do the whole kissing thing again?â
âAfter.â She promises, climbing over you and crawling under the blankets beside you. Her body is warm, and you can feel her pressed against your side, practically radiating pure heat. âNow eat. Itâs getting cold.â
âItâs a sandwich, Sam.â you remind her with a grin. âItâs supposed to be cold.â
Sam lightly kicks your foot. âJust shut up and eat it. Do you want that kiss or not?â
You shut up and eat the damn sandwich.
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amber freeman
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i have a request for wes hicks, so make a fic where itâs wes last day and like they have a date and all before he gets killed and then after the reader finds out heâs dead the next day, if that makes sense đ
sorry this one took so long!!
YOUâRE ALL I WANTED || WES HICKS X READERđ€âË.
summary: above
word count: 3k
warnings: fluff to angst (non happy ending), swearing, use of y/n + y/n/n in some places,
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
âCan I open my eyes yet?â
âNope.â You dont have to be able to see Wes to know that heâs smiling that boyish smile of his.
âBut Wes, I canât see.â
âHuh, itâs almost like thatâs the point,â he replies sarcastically, laughing when you swat at what you guess is his arm. âCome on, weâre almost there, I promise.â
âYou said that five minutes ago!â You all but whine, a pout on your lips. You were willing to humour whatever Wes was planning, but if you had to stumble through darkness any longer, the anticipation was probably going to kill you. Youâd gotten out of the car what felt like an eternity ago at a place you didnât recognise, and Wes had been leading you ever since then. And you had no idea where you were heading - or what you even were supposed to be doing.
You open your mouth to speak once more again, but before you can, Wes takes his hands from over your eyes with a flourish.
âSurprise?â He says hopefully, pointing towards something that you canât quite see yet. Itâs a beautiful day today, and you squint as your eyes adjust to the bright light. But once you see it, you canât hide the grin that appears on your face.
âWes!â You gasp, âYou shouldnât have!â
Itâs a clichĂ© thing to say, you know that, but he really shouldnât have. Heâs led you to a field - a beautiful one, with flowers of all kind blooming off to the side - and in front of you lays a blanket with all your favourite snacks upon it. Fruit bowls, chips, cupcakes - the fancy ones that Wes knows you love even though theyâre totally overpriced. Itâs completely and utterly perfect. And without a doubt, the most thoughtful thing anybody has ever done for you.
You tell Wes as much as you throw your arms around him and and press a kiss to his temple, and you donât miss the adorable way that his cheeks flush in response.
âItâs nothing,â he says nonchalantly, even though this whole thing mustâve took a hell of a lot of planning and most definitely not nothing. âHonestly. And you deserve it - all of it.â
He says that casually too, like it doesnât fill your chest with warmth and make your heart skip a dozen beats. Itâs like Wes doesnât realise that heâs too good; too good at this whole date planning thing, too good at being your boyfriend - too damn good in general. Youâve only been together for a couple of months, but honestly? Itâs the happiest youâve been in a long time. Itâs like youâre in a constant state of bliss with Wes, your whirlwind romance lighting up your days in way that puts the sun to shame. Texting with him alone is enough to make you practically giddy, so being here with him now is your own little idea of heaven.
âSo,â you ask in between a bite of a cookie once youâve sat down,âwhat made you think of all of this? I mean, itâs seriously like something out of a movie!â
âJust wanted to do something nice for you.â Wes replies with a smile and a shrug. âI didnât know what, but then I remembered this place. I havenât been here in years, but it hasnât changed a bit.â Wes pauses, and you notice his expression falter for a moment. âI used to come here when my parents argued - when I needed to clear my head, you know? I donât know, itâs probably stupid, butâŠâ
Wes trails off awkwardly, dropping his gaze. You know that his parents arenât together - havenât been for years - but Wes barely talks about his sorry excuse for a father. In fact, you think this is the most heâs ever spoken on the issue to you.
âHey,â you say gently, pressing a hand to Wesâ cheek and carefully turning his head so that heâs looking at you once more. âItâs not stupid. Not in the slightest. I get it. It really is a beautiful place.â
Wes nods and his eyes gain their light once more, and he places his hand over yours. Wes had never really been big on public affection, but it seemed as if the two of you were the only people around. It doesnât matter anyway - it certainly feels like you are. You could stay here forever like this, the sun on your skin, legs messily interlocked. Itâs all youâve ever wanted.
âThank you for this, for today.â You say quietly. Youâre still trying to make sure that you remember it all - the food strewn across the blanket, all of the different types of flowers and all their different hues, the smell of strawberries and your boyfriendsâ coconut shampoo - itâs something you never want to forget. In fact, when the two of you pull way from each other, you take out your phone and snap a picture of the setup just in case, before taking one of you and Wes too - the two of you smiling, the photo slightly blurry but still somehow perfect.
Even though youâve been out for most of the day, you still canât help but be disappointed when the sun sets and the two of you have no choice but to leave - especially when Wesâ mom tells him itâs way past his curfew and sends him one not - so vaguely threatening text about the dangers of staying out past dark.
Still, it feels as if youâve barely stopped smiling today - but you havenât had much reason to. Even as Wes drives you home, his free hand loosely interlaced with yours, you still canât shake the butterfly feeling in your stomach. Maybe it was just the âhoneymoonâ stage of your relationship, but it felt like it was so much more than that. Maybe this was just how dating Wes was going to be - constantly feeling like you were on cloud nine. Youâre more than okay with that.
âYou know, you donât have to to walk me to my door,â you tease as Wes exits the car when you reach your destination what feels like far too quickly.
âI want to,â Wes responds simply. âBesides, you never know what could be hiding in the bushes.â
âItâs a thirty second walk,â you laugh, letting him trail besides you nonetheless. âBut thank you, my knight in shining armour.â
Wes simply chuckles. âThanks for coming today. I had a really great time with you.â
You frown in disbelief. âAre you kidding? Thank me for coming? Wes, you set up this whole thing? I need to be thanking you. I loved it - I love you. It was more than perfect.â
Wesâ eyes widen ever so slightly, and you belatedly realise that you donât think youâd ever said those words out loud before - I love you. Not because you didnât mean them, but because you were worried that youâd look too eager, too desperate. It wasnât something you said early on in a relationship, it just wasnât.
Oh, to hell with it. You meant what you said, societal rules be damned. You love Wes, love spending time with him, love the way he makes you feel. Love his beautiful blue eyes and his infectious smile and just how damn thoughtful he is. You love Wes Hicks, plain and simple.
And by the way he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours, youâre left to assume that he feels the same way. Well, you donât even have to assume, not when he tells you as much when he pulls back, tells you that he didnât want to scare you off by saying it before and isnât that just ironic?
The whole thing almost makes you forget that Wes has to leave, and you canât contain your sigh when he reminds you that heâs already late back. âIâll text you when Iâm back,â he assure you, âpromise. I love you, okay?â Now you were both ready to say it aloud, you had a feeling youâd be hearing those three words a lot from now on
âLove you too. Night, Wes.â
Wes simply grins as he walks away and gets into his car, sparing you one last glance before he waves and drives away. You stare at his empty spot on the road for a minute, before you realise that staring into the empty sidewalk in the dark probably makes you look like a complete creep and make your way inside your house and up to your bedroom.
You receive your promised text almost twenty minutes later, just after youâve climbed into bed. It reads:
wes: at home now
wes: are you still awake?
y/n: yeah
y/n: glad youâre home safe âĄ
wes: thanks baby
wes: Iâll call you in the morning, okay?
y/n: okay
y/n: night wes
wes: goodnight y/n/n
wes: sweet dreams <3
Sighing in contentment, you put your phone down onto your bedside table and flick off your lamp. Itâs like the events of today have suddenly caught up with you all at once, and you feel your eyes start to flutter closed, consciousness slowly slipping away. You briefly wonder if youâll dream tonight - although you doubt anything your sleeping mind could conjure would top your date today.
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
ïżŒ It feels as if youâve only just closed your eyes - although the light shining through your curtain tells you otherwise - when youâre awoken by the sound of buzzing. Itâs strange, you think to yourself, you didnât set an alarm - although you cast your mind back and remember that Wes did say that he would call you in the morning.
Blinking blearily, you pick up your phone to see that itâs not ringing at all. No, instead youâre greeted with a plethora of message notifications from all sorts of social media platforms. Thatâs even stranger; your phone never blew up like this, especially not this early on a Sunday morning. It freaks you out a little bit, but youâre more curious than anything.
Especially when you see some of the names of the senders. Liv. Amber. Chad. Tara. Mindy.
Your boyfriendâs friend group. Thatâs not to say youâre not friendly with them, but they were still definitely more Wesâ friends than they were yours. And they rarely messaged you - especially not all at once.
And from what you can tell - all your of them are basically saying the same thing.
liv: oh my god
liv: i heard the news and I canât even imagine how youâre feeling right now Iâm so sorry
chad: hope your doing okay after everything
chad: i get if you need space but if you need anything, you can call me.
tara: i know thereâs nothing I can say to you to make this better but god Iâm sorry, if you need anything, weâre all here for you, always.
Your eyebrows knit together in a confused frown. Iâm so sorry? Sorry for what? Everybody was sending you well wishes, but you had no fucking clue why. Had Wes broken up with you without even knowing? No, he couldnât have. Not after yesterday. Why go through all of that effort to dump you the next day? It didnât make sense. None of this makes any sense.
You decide that the only way to clear any of this up is to call Wes yourself. Sure, it was still early, but he was a light sleeper and the ringing of his phone would be more than enough to wake him. You unlock your phone and click on his name in your contacts and wait expectantly for him to answer.
Except he never does.
âHey, this is Wes. Iâm probably doing something, so, uh, leave a message.â
Groaning in frustration, you try again. And again. When Wes doesnât pick up the forth time, you send him a message instead.
y/n: call me right now
y/n: itâs urgent
y/n: you need to explain everything to me now
Unlike usual, typing bubbles donât appear within a minute. Not even after five. Sure, this is probably all just a misunderstanding that Wes will clear up for you when heâs awake, but if heâs done what the ugly voice in the back of your head is telling you that heâs done, then he owes you answers immediately.
Growing frustrated, you start to type a reply to Tara, asking her what the hell is even going on, but your phone chooses that exact moment to die and power off. It makes you want to scream.
You feel sick. You feel stressed and irritated and like you desperately need to punch something. You find your charger and connect your phone to the wire, bouncing your leg as you anxiously wait for it to turn on. You need answers.
Within the space of a minute, it feels like centuries have passed. And itâs not doing anything to help your nerves. In an effort to calm them, you reach for your remote and turn your TV on, flicking through the channels until one catches your eye.
BREAKING: TWO FOUND DEAD IN WOODSBORO - SUSPECTED COPYCAT ATTACK.
Your initial thought to that headline is again, really? You still remembered seeing almost the exact headline when those two highschoolers tried the same thing almost ten years ago. Your second thought is much more macabre. What if itâs somebody you know? It had to be: Woodsboro wasnât a huge place, everybody practically knew everybody anyway. It was bound to be- no.
No.
It couldnât be.
Itâs all starting to make sense now, but you desperately wish it wouldnât. Wesâs friends messaging you with their condolences. Your phone blowing up. Wes not picking up his goddamn phone.
No.
You turn up the channel, wishing the fucking reporters would just get to the damn point already and tell you what you needed to know. You listen to them ramble on about how horrifying and utterly tragic the whole thing is but youâre only half listening - will only be half listening - until they utter that name. His name. You need your phone to turn on. You need to call Wes, hear his voice so you can laugh and tell him how paranoid you were and how much he scared you. How much you need him. You need to breathe.
But you canât. Youâre feeling like youâre suffocating and itâs stupid because you donât know anything, not yet, except you do. You can feel the dread deep in your bones, the horror in the out of your stomach. Itâs Wes.
Like some twisted coincidence, it almost at that exact moment when two pictures pop up on the screen. You donât hear the accompanying words, not over your sob. Because itâs him. His yearbook picture, the one that hung in his living room, the one you helped him get ready for and assured him he looked absolutely beautiful in. His motherâs is the second, the same picture that was on her badge. The badge she was so proud of.
No. It isnât true. This is all some twisted nightmare and you need to speak to Wes and heâll tell you everythingâs okay because he always does and your phone is finally on thank God and you call Wes again and why wonât he pick up he needs to pick up and you canât breathe-
The tears streaming down your face make it hard to see anything. You donât want to look anyway. Not at Wesâ smiling face because heâs not smiling, not anymore. Heâd never smile again, youâd never hear his voice again, because he was dead. Wes, your Wes, who was the kindest person you had ever met and had never done anything to anyone, was dead at the hands of some psychopath fulfilling his sick fantasies. Itâs not fair. None of this is fair.
You canât wrap your head around it. Wes is - was - so alive. You saw it, in every crease by his eye when he smiled and the way his whole body shook when he laughed and the way he kissed you like it was the most important thing in the world. He was the most important thing in your world.
A world that was plunged in darkness now, because how were you supposed to live out the rest of your life after Wes? You knew how happy your felt with him, how much you adored him and felt adored, and how were you supposed to carry on knowing youâd never feel that again. You canât. All you can do is cry, your body shaking with the efforts of your sobs. It isnât fair. It isnât fair. It isnât fair.
Your phone starts buzzing once more, and although know itâs not him, canât be him, you canât help but check anyway.
Your naĂŻve hope is stupidly misplaced. Of course it isnât Wes. Just an influx of messages from family and classmates whose names you only half recognise telling you how sorry they are. You donât fucking care. Sorries donât bring your boyfriends back to life. They wonât let you be able to hold him again, tell him how much he means to you. How much you love him.
You canât deal with them. Not now. You go to turn off your phone, and it freezes for a second on your lock screen before fully shutting down once more. The lock screen you changed on the car ride home yesterday, the one where youâre looking to the camera and Wes is looking half to the side but itâs okay because heâs still smiling nonetheless.
Still alive.
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do u take requests for Sam?
sure!! sheâs not officially âon the listâ yet because I donât know how confidently I could write for her, but Iâd be down to give it a try :)
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could you possibly do wes asking reader on an actual date after gaining a crush from reader from the fake dating :)?
sure, thank you for requesting!! âĄ
MAKE IT REAL || WES HICKS X READER ââËïœĄâ
summary: above
word count: 931
warnings: g!n reader, use of y/n (tried to keep it to a minimum) maybe an abrupt ending? idk I didnât really know how to wrap it up sorry :((
y/n: sorry Iâm late!!
y/n: Iâll be there in five minutes I promise
That was eleven minutes ago.
Wes sighs as he reads over the message for what feels like the thousandth time, each passing second only serving to make his shaky nerves even worse. Hell, he feels like the anticipation is going to kill him slowly - well, either that or heâs gonna throw up all over the table.
Wes really hopes it isnât the latter.
When heâd asked you last night if you wanted to meet up at your usual diner - the one the two of you had frequented when discussing the ins and outs of your fake relationship, he thought heâd be fine. It was casual enough, right? Heâd buy you your favourite milkshake and then tell you straight up how head over heels he was for you and hope that you wouldnât laugh in his face. No, that was unfair, you were too damn kind and downright perfect to laugh at Wes like that, but his point still stands. The last thing he wants is to totally embarrass himself and make you uncomfortable in the process.
When youâd first asked him to be your fake boyfriend, heâd laughed in your face - quite literally. Because there was no way in hell you were being serious; fake dating was a trope reserved for shitty romcoms alone. But when he saw the look on your face and how much it would mean to you, Wes caved. And then he really fell.
Because how could he not, when you called him yours in front of all of your friends, an arm around his waist pulling him close? How could his heart not skip a beat when youâd run into his arms after class, your body pressed to his with your sweet scent leaving him completely reeling? And overtime, it became natural - second nature. Heâd grab your hand in the hallway without even thinking about it, and the pet names slipped easily from his lips. It was easy to forget sometimes that everything was for show, that it was all a façade. But it was real to the rest of the world, and honestly? It felt more than real to Wes.
So it wasnât long before you took over his mind completely, thoughts of your blinding smile and stupid jokes keeping him awake at night. It was pathetic really, how much you made Wes want. Want something real.
It was driving him crazy, and so, despite his better judgement, he was finally going to do something about it.
Just as he contemplates sending another text, the telltale chime of the bell above the door has him whipping his head around so fast that itâs a miracle he doesnât get whiplash. You look beautiful as always, but that barely counts as a surprise anymore.
You donât even need to look around for Wes, he notices, as you make you way to the booth the two of you always sit at.
âHey, sorry I kept you waitingâ you say sheepishly, sliding into the seat across from Wes. âAw, you got my favourite!â You smile when you notices the tall milkshake on the table in front of you. âHere, Iâll pay you ba-
âNah, Iâve got it, donât worry about it.â Wes assures you as casually as he can muster. The anticipation is killing him, and he doesnât know how much longer he can wait anymore.
âSo, um, I actually asked you to come here for a reason.â He admits, gauging your expression for your reaction.
âWait, so you donât just want to hang out with me for the hell of it? Ouch.â You tease, and Wes canât help but smile despite himself.
âYou know what I meant. Anyway,â he begins again, âI wanted to talk to you about our⊠fake relationship.â
You immediately perk up. âYou need me to be your partner for hire this time? I think I can work with that.â
Your positive reaction serves to give Wes that bit more confidence. âNot exactly. But you know, I really did have fun. Pretending to date you, I mean.â
âMe too.â You respond, a smile playing on your lips and an unmistakable warmth in your eyes.
âGood. Iâm glad. So,â Wes says, drawing out the word as you take a long sip of your drink, âI was thinking that maybe we could do it again. But⊠for real, this time?â
You instantly look up, your expression unreadable even to Wes. He canât stop now though, so he carries on speaking. âI wasnât going to say anything because youâre my best friend and I donât wanna make things awkward. But⊠I canât stop thinking about you, Y/N. Iâve tried. But you just keep coming back.â Wes laughs, but itâs more out of nervousness that out of humour. âPoint is, I really like you. A lot. So maybe, you know, if you feel the same way, we could try being more than just friends?â
You open your mouth to speak, but you close it again before you can. Youâre silent for a painstakingly long few moments, and itâs driving Wes insane to the point that banging his head on the table would be less painful.
Finally, you speak.
âReally?â You breathe hesitantly, like you can hardly believe him. Like heâs the one out of your league.
âYeah! I mean, if you want to, obviously.â
âHell yeah I want to.â The grin on your face is blinding, and one thatâs reflected by Wes completely.âI thought youâd never ask.â
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Hi!!!! Could you do some MickeyxFem!Reader headcannons on what heâd be like as a boyfriend?
MICKEY ALTIERI AS YOUR BOYFRIEND đ€âË.
thank you for the request!!
warnings: swearing, brief mentions of making out + possessiveness
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
- SUCH A FLIRT omg but it works because heâs unsurprisingly super smooth with it
- it doesnât matter how long youâve been dating, heâll hit you with a line that has your checks heating up and your mouth dropping ever so slightly
- which only serves to make him more cocky - he loves it when he has such a visual and profound effect on you - it makes him even more attracted to you in a weird sort of way
- will judge your taste in movies ruthlessly but if anybody else dares to do so he wonât let it go and will start a very heated argument on your behalf
- speaking of movies, youâre definitely his muse so to speak and uses you as the inspiration for the majority of his films
- make-out sessions in the back of the movie theatre obviously
-loves watching you get ready to go out - whether youâre putting on an outfit or doing your makeup, mickey will just stand leaning against the doorframe and watch you intently
- âmickey, what are you doing?â âwhat? nothing, nothing at all. as you were, babe.â
- will help you pick out outfits to wear when you need advice AND will come shopping with you for fun - he may grumble and complain under his breathe but you both know heâs secretly having a good time
- one of his biggest turn onâs is when you wear his clothes - he loves that it lets everybody know that your his girlfriend
- even though he has possessive tendencies, mickey isnât really the jealous type - he trusts you and isnât an insecure person, so heâs confident in the relationship the two of you have
- however, that doesnât mean he isnât incredibly defensive and protective when it comes to you - heâs not afraid to make scene if somebody wonât get the hint and leave you alone
- has told you numerous times that he would kill for you but you tend to just smile and brush him off, assuming heâs joking
- because why wouldnât you? even though he can be abrasive and even straight up rude to others, heâs never been anything but sweet and attentive to you
- LOVES psychical touch - whether itâs his hand in your back pocket, on your thigh or his arm round your waist, he canât get enough of it
- also strangely chivalrous - pays for you when you go restaurants, holds the door, giving you his coat he sees you even slightly shiver ect
- will pretty much help you with anything you ask him to
- a total little shit, obviously - heâll ask you stupid questions just to be annoying and to see your reaction
- definitely a party person and will drag you to the dance floor
- refuses to let you walk home alone after a date. even if he has plans, heâll push them back to make sure you get home okay (even when you tell him this isnât necessary)
- will come back from class, lay his heâs head your shoulder and dramatically bitch about the people that he doesnât like (itâs actually quite entertaining)
- âbabe, they said that sequels suck! I mean, can you believe it? I mean, they obviously have shitty taste in movies but come on, itâs like theyâve never even seen T2! and then cici fucking cooper said I have a hard on for cameron- can you believe it? who the hell does she think she is?â âbut mick, you do have a hard on for cameron.â âyeah, but itâs only okay when you say it!â
- on a related note, mickeyâs a total gossip. when the two of you are just laying in bed, heâll tell you rumours about people youâve probably never even heard of
- can be very clingy at times
-kisses kisses so many kisses all of the time (heâs obviously the best kisser)
- will not hesitate to shut you up with a kiss
- obviously can be very manipulative without you even realising it - heâs a master at it, doing it so subtly that you donât even itâs happening
- itâs one of the reasons why you barely fight, and on the rare occasion you do, mickey will convince you that thereâs not even a problem and that the two of you are made for each other and shouldnât be wasting time on stupid fights
- definitely they type to sing in the shower AND takes ages in the bathroom getting ready to the point that your banging on the door
- more into sentimental gifts than anything more âflashyâ - for example, heâll buy you an exact replica outfit or accessory of something your favourite movie character wore, or buy you a signed poster that he spent hours trying to get
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HEY HEY HEYYYYYY
Would you please write Mickey Altieri x Fem reader where she is Derekâs sister, (say they are twins or something) and Mickey really likes herâŠ
But Derek is like really overprotective because he heard what happened between Sidney and Billy a year back and is worried that something similar might happen to reader, with all the killings going on again.
Youâd be amazing if you did this but donât feel forced :) đđđđđđđđđ
hi!! sorry this one took so long, I loved the prompt and kept starting and restarting because I wanted this to be at least a little bit decent . hope this is what you wanted!! (as always, feel free to let me know if it isnât <3)
âPROTECT ME?â|| MICKEY ALTIERI X READER đ€âË.
summary: above
word count: 1.4k
warnings: fem!reader, swearing
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
Despite the recent string of murders, the Windsor campus remains as busy as ever. The college quad in particular is brimming with life, hordes of students rushing to their next class or simply sitting down, enjoying the warm spring sun. You yourself sit cross legged leaning against the trunk of a tree, laughing as Mickey tells you about the making of his latest short film.
âYou know, you should be in one my movies.â Mickey says offhandedly. âOne of my class movies. Get your mind out of the gutter.â He adds after seeing the look on your face. âUnless you want-â
The look Derek sends him is so uncharacteristic that it almost looks comedic. Almost.
âHey, Iâm kidding.â Mickey says. âIt was a joke. But seriously,â he says, sending you a boyish grin that practically makes your heart skip a beat, âwe should totally talk your potential film career sometime. Maybe over dinner?â
Itâs hardly subtle, but you canât bring yourself to care when Mickey Altieri is the one whoâs asking. âIâd like that,â you answer simply with a smile. âIâm free tonight if you are?â
Mickey opens his mouth to speak, but heâs interrupted before he even gets a word out.
âActually, youâve got that test tomorrow, remember?â Itâs your turn to shoot Derek a look now, irritated when he simply pouts like heâs doesnât know exactly what heâs doing.
âYeah, and Iâve already studied. Iâll go over my notes in the morning, Derek.â You know your tone sounds totally bitter, but youâre starting to grow annoyed with your brother. It feels like recently youâve barely spent any alone time with Mickey, and every time you come even close, Derek swoops in with the perfect brother routine to make sure you stay firmly away from the man. Mickey asks if you want to study with him over at his place? Derek offers to come too and sits between you both the whole time. Mickey asks you to go the movies with him? Derek needs your help planning a surprise for Sidney. Mickey waits for you outside class and asks if you want to and sit outside with him? Derek overhears and invites himself along. Itâs completely infuriating.
Even now, you donât miss the way your brother keeps glancing over at his best friend, trying to be subtle but failing spectacularly. Itâs like heâs worried that if he looks away for too long, Mickey will pounce on you right there and then. If only, you think to yourself. You know itâs definitely⊠unconventional to have a massive crush on your brotherâs best friend, but how could you help yourself? With his constant flirting and all around charisma, you were always bound to fall for Mickey Altieri. And from the looks of it, he seems to like you too. Which makes Derek inability to simply get lost all the worst.
âStill, I donât think that mom would be too happy to hear that youâre neglecting your studies to go on dates. I mean, thatâs what it is right, a date?
That bastard.
You honestly donât know why he cares so much about your potential love life - or lack of so, all thanks to his stupid meddling. You glance over to Mickey, who simply stares at Derek slightly dumbfounded. You can see the hidden annoyance in the way he tenses his jaw though, his usually carefree and casual expression clouded over with something darker.
âYou tell mom and Iâll never speak to you again,â you say, only half exaggerating. âBesides, I donât really see how itâs any of your goddamn business in the first place.â
Derek just looks at you for a moment, huffing when heâs met with nothing but your impatient gaze.
Itâs Mickey who breaks the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly. âIâm gonna give you two a minute,â he says, before he disappears just out of your line of sight, his eyes locked on you as he walks away.
You decide to wait until youâre sure heâs out of earshot before talking. âWhat are we doing here, Derek?â You ask, exasperated. âIs this because you donât want me dating your best friend? Do think itâs gonna make it weird or something? Hell, have you fallen out with Mickey?
âWhat? No, Weâre fine!â
You canât help but scoff at that. âSeriously, Der? Youâve been anything but fine all week. I mean, youâve been my own personal Mickey guard dog recently! You donât think you at least owe me an explanation to why that is?
Derek sighs, finally looking up to meet your gaze. âFine. But please donât take this wrong way, okay? Iâm only trying to protect you.â
Itâs so unexpected that a laugh bubbles from your throat. âProtect me? From Mickey? What the hell do you need to do that for?
âWell, what with all the⊠killing going on, wouldnât you rather be safe than sorry?â And Iâm not saying Mickeyâs behind it,â Derek adds, seeing the look on your face, âbut is that a risk you really wanna take? I mean, last time it all happened, it was Sidneyâs boyfriend the entire time. And I canât let you get hurt too, I-â
âDerek.â You sigh, your expression softening. âIâm glad that you care so much. And I understand that youâre worried - I do. But Mickeyâs not Billy Loomis! Heâs your best friend, for fuck sake! And even if, on the tiny, tiny off chance that he is behind it all,donât you think that itâs my mistake to make? I trust him, Der. And if you canât trust him, you should at least trust me. Besides, Mickeyâs not even my boyfriend! Well, maybe if you actually left us alone for a minuteâŠâ You trail off, biting your lip as so not to laugh at the distaste on your brothers face.
âI still donât like it.â He argues, his expression stern.
âAnd you donât have to,â you shrug. âI like it, and I like him. A lot. Youâre gonna have to learn to live with that. Canât protect me forever.â
He sighs, and you know youâve finally gotten through to him. âI know that. I just donât want to see you get hurt.â
âAnd you wonât,â you say, relief washing over you as you pull Derek into a quick hug. âNow, if youâll excuse me, it looks like if Iâve got a date to arrange.â
You donât stand around to see Derekâs reaction to that, and you bound over to Mickey instead, finding him pacing around a nearby wall.
âSo, what was all of that about?â He asks. âIs your brother pissed at me for trying to defile his sister?â
âI talked to him.â You say, pointedly ignoring that last question. âHeâs okay. He only wants the best for me.â
âHey, I only want the best for you,â Mickey says suddenly, stopping and taking your hands in his. Within an instant, youâre acutely aware of how close heâs become, and you canât help but flick your gaze down to his lips for the briefest moment. âI would never fucking hurt you.â And he says like itâs imperative that you know.
âI know thatâ You murmur. You canât help but wonder how Derek could possibly think Mickey was dangerous, not when heâs always been so caring and gentle with you. Especially not when he looks like this, so beautiful and vulnerable, with a fire burning in his eyes so fiercely that it captivates you completely.
Mickey must notice you staring, and you donât miss the smile that tugs on his lips.
âNow that weâre alone,â he says lowly, making you shiver ever so slightly. âCan I-â
You donât let him finish his sentence. Within an instant, your lips are on his, and you hear the breath hitch in Mickeyâs throat. It takes him only a moment to regain his composure before heâs kissing you back eagerly, his hands moving to your waist in an attempt to pull you closer still. It all feels so familiar, and you canât help but feel reassured by the comfort that fact brings you.
After what definitely isnât long enough, you pull back and take a deep breath, the small smile on your face the perfect reflection of Mickeyâs. You catch Derekâs eye and try and send him the most subtle thumbs up you can, satisfied when his frown slips ever so slightly. Small victories.
âSo,â you say, turning your full attention back to Mickey once more. âWhat is it you were saying about dinner?â
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headcanon for wes as your fake boyfriend?
i love this request itâs so cute <33
FAKE DATING WES HICKS đ€âË.
warnings: none
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
- when you ask wes to be your fake boyfriend, he literally laughs in your face
- it takes him a minute and the look on your face to realise that you are in fact being serious
- âokay, let me make sure Iâm getting this. you want me be your fake boyfriend? why could you possibly need a fake boyfriend?â
- even after you explain your reasoning, he still takes some convincing but seeing how important it is to you he eventually gives in
- despite him being reluctant at first, wes gets strangely into it
- he starts off casually, giving you cute nicknames that he uses in conversations with your friends, who are confused by your sudden relationship until wes spins some cute story on the spot, leaving you surprised yet very impressed
- some of them donât believe the relationship is real so wes starts to slip into the conversation âhow greatâ you are or âhow lucky he is to be with youâ - you know itâs just a cover but it warms your heart nonetheless
- walking to class with him and talking outside together - everybody thinks heâs just being romantic when heâs really asking you what fake dating entails and how far you want him to go - kissing, hugging ect
- you almost swear you see him take organised notes on his phone
- cheek kisses and forehead kisses if youâre shorter than him (and if youâre comfortable with it obviously) when he says goodbye omg
- makes a show of it too, making sure are watching
- holds your hand to really sell it, whether heâs walking you down the hall or if youâre hanging out with the group - sometimes you wonder if he forgets that youâre fake dating and not real dating
- you bring this up to him teasingly and he laughs self consciously and says that he knows and that heâs just the best boyfriend around - pretend or not
- you find the two of you hanging out more than usual even when you donât have to convive anyone of your ârelationshipâ
- if you take him to meet your family, heâs the textbook definition of perfect gentleman. he brings you flowers, gushes about how great you are and how much he loves your home. you canât help but smile at him because heâs definitely being too perfect without even realising it
- they keep asking you when youâre bringing him back
- has so much fun making up totally fake details about your relationship and tries to see how unrealistic and outrageous he can get before people start to ask questions
- because itâs not like anyone can call him out without proof, especially when he has you to âback him upâ
- sickeningly sweet and corny just to try and irritate you and everyone else around the two of you
- wes is honestly enjoying the whole fake dating thing way more than he should - NOT that heâll admit that to you
- when you tell him that he doesnât need to fake date you anymore, heâs definitely disappointed because he was having so much fun
- blushes as he tells you that if you ever need his services again (or if you just wanna go on a real date sometime), you have his number
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MASTERLIST đ€âË.
everything Iâve written in one place so itâs easier to find!! rules for requesting are here
SCREAM
MICKEY ALTIERI
safe and sound [after getting a call from the supposed killer on campus, you call your boyfriend mickey to help you feel better]
i remember it all too well [you canât understand any of this - least at all how mickey could do this to you]
âprotect me?â [you wish your brother derek would leave you and mickey alone for at least a minute]
mickey altieri as your boyfriend [fem!reader headcanons]
mickey as your fake boyfriend [headcanons]
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
WES HICKS
wes as your boyfriend [headcanons]
wes as your fake boyfriend [headcanons]
make it real [when fake dating wes leads to more than just pretend feelings]
youâre all I wanted [your last date with wes]
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
BILLY LOOMIS
illicit affairs [you know heâs in a relationship. you know that this is wrong. but somehow, you just canât seem to stay away from billy loomis]
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
AMBER FREEMAN
amber as your girlfriend [headcanons]
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
SAM CARPENTER
so I wander through those nights [sam canât just leave you at the frat party alone, and sheâs horrified to find some asshole trying to take advantage]
x sunshine/golden retriever gf [headcanons]
âčââăâăâăâżăâăâăâââč
LIV MCKENZIE
movie night [maybe getting liv to watch a horror movie with you wasnât the best idea]
enemies to lovers [headcanons]
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