Chad Meeks-Martin X Reader: If Its Meant To Be...

Chad Meeks-Martin x Reader: if it’s meant to be...

Warnings: Swearing (probably), alcohol, frat party, scream vi, there’s a female roommate of reader involved.

Tags: halloween party, cowboy!chad, cowboy!reader (reader is dressed as a cowboy/girl/enbie), love at first sight, flirting.

Reader pronouns: Non stated (reader is dressed as a cowboy/girl/enbie).

Word count: 1033

Summary: Reader is at the halloween party, and Chad sees them (and instantly falls in love).

Author’s note: CHAAAAAD <3 there’s not enough appreciation for this man, or maybe there is but i haven’t seen a lot. also chad cowboy brain rot. also this is spoiler free if we ignore the cowboy!chad and halloween party setting :)

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The music was loud, the house stank like alcohol and sweat and your head was buzzing a little bit as you made your way through the immovable people standing on your way to the kitchen. You had lost sight of your roommate since the moment you two had come in through the door. College parties, especially frat parties, were painted way more glamorous than what they really were, but it wasn't like you were having a bad time.

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol in the whole night, a good decision considering how overwhelmed you were now, but you also weren’t paying attention. Your absolute lack of interest was the reason why you didn’t notice the way you instantly caught the eye of a certain cowboy while you were on your way to the kitchen. With a smile to his friend, Chad left Ethan on his own once he had come to the conclusion that he needed to talk to you and find out who you were.

He spotted you instantly once he came into the kitchen — it wasn’t too difficult, considering that by now the people were too wasted to drag their asses into the kitchen for more alcohol. Apart from you, sitting in the counter with an empty but cold can of coke against your forehead, two sheepish frat guys were there as well, laying on the floor and blabbering about things Chad couldn’t care less about. When your beautiful eyes landed on him, he felt his heartbeat quicken, like a middle school boy.

“Hey.” Chad said, smiling brightly, and to play it cool he started making himself a drink with the half empty vodka bottles in the center table.

You eyed him up and down, a little smile slipping into your lips. “Howdy, stranger.” You finally said, tilting your head while grabbing your own cowboy hat. It was a simple and basic costume, but it was cute and certainly made you look good. 

Chad’s smile grew wider. “Cool costume.”

A little chuckle came out of your mouth, making you look down as you started dandling your feet, with your hands kept safe under your thighs, the can long forgotten by your side. You didn’t give an answer, but the silence — stained by the noise and music outside — was comfortable enough for Chad to keep going. 

“You want a drink?” He asked, his hand already holding his cup, and lightly gesturing towards the vodka.

“So soon?” You teased, more because you weren’t about to let him be the only charming one than because of you not liking him — you did. He was cute, and looked really nice and even funny. “You don’t even know my favorite color.”

His smile was so genuine, so nice. “Do I need to know it to get you a drink?”

“Or at least my zodiac sign.” You said while tilting your head, so the hat wouldn’t cover your view of him.Then, you added rather gloomy, “What if I were a scorpio?”

“I like scorpios.” Chad answered quickly, then took a sip of his drink. His face started to hurt from smiling.

“What if I weren’t a scorpio?” 

Chad couldn’t help but chuckle at your speed. “I’d like that too.”

You laughed with him, genuinely enjoying that flirting with him. He really did seem like a sweet guy, so after joining your hands on your lap, you said, “Great. Then you can get me a drink.”

“So soon?” He said, eyebrows lifting as he mimicked you. You bursted out laughing, the sweetest sound he had ever heard. “You don’t even know my name.”

You tilted your head again, to the other side, and held back the little smile blossoming on your lips. “You look like you have a cool name.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, like Rex or Max. Something like that.”

Chad raised an eyebrow. “Those are dog names.”

“Then what’s your name?” You asked with a little laugh.

“Chad.”

“Chad.” You repeated softly, and he found himself adoring the way you said it — God, was he down bad, and with no explanation other than your charm. You smiled. “It first you.”

He came a little bit closer to you, leaning against the counter but letting you space to breathe, move, be comfortable. You appreciated that. “You’re not telling me yours?”

Before you could even answer, your name was called out from the hallways, prompting you to jump down from the counter and take a few steps to the door. You eased up when you saw your roommate walking your way with a dumb, loving smile in her face that gave away her intoxicated state instantly. 

When she came in, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and hugged you loosely, and Chad feared you were already taken — had he misinterpreted your kindness for flirting? He hoped not.

Your friend looked up and her eyes widened slightly when he saw Chad there, shirtless, and looking at you two rather cautiously. “Oh.” She said with a sweet smile, waving her hand slightly. “Hi.”

Before Chad could do more than smile at her, you squeezed the hand around your shoulders. “You’re drunk. We’re going home, uhm?”

“Alright.” Your roommate muttered rather hesitantly, but still smiling.

Still keeping her arm around your shoulders, you turned to Chad with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. You’ll buy me that drink another time, Chad. I have to take my friend here home.”

“Of course.” Chad smiled, because you were promising to see him again. You also weren’t a couple. “Do you need someone to walk you guys?”

“Oh, it’s alright.” You assured, your smile growing wider because of his sweetness. “We don’t live far. See ya.”

“Wait, wait!” Chad moved closer to you as soon as you started moving towards the door, making you raise an eyebrow. “Give me your number?”  He tried that flirty smile on.

You chuckled slightly. “If it’s meant to be we’ll meet again, don’t ya think?”

Rushing your friend out of the kitchen, you two disappeared in the crowd of people and Chad stood there, dumbfounded, hand around his drink and with the silliest smile on his face. He really fucking hope it was meant to be.

art is done with a purpose --- mainly, that purpose is to serve people, to be liked/enjoyed/experimented. when talking about fanfiction, this purpose intensifies.

i'm not guilt tripping anyone, but when you don't comment and just like, you're not helping our motivation. most of us love the validation we get from someone obviously enjoying our work so please --- comment. even if its key smashing. we appreacite it, A LOT.

most of us, if not all of us, are friendly. i've made countless of friends with the people who have appreciated my stuff, requested more and enjoyed it. i will always answer kindly to anyone who has supported me, who has believed in me.

I have a request! If that's alright.

Could you do a oneshot where reader is around 18-19 years old and they're ghostface and jill roberts younger adopted sibling, and they basically did it for revenge for what happened to Jill (and they wanna carry on her legacy by getting famous off this), and they plan on going after everyone sidney knows, which means they're after any survivor of ghostface. So basically instead of having a whole reveal and quinn and her dad being ghostfaces, it's just ethan and reader that are ghostfaces and they frame Quinn and Bailey but the core 4 and gkirby and gale don't know because they had arrived after ethan and reader were done setting up the "aftermath" of the reveal (yk like they injure themselves purposely, and make It look like quinn and Bailey did it). So flash forward a week or two ethan and reader gather the core 4, kirby, and gale at readers house or apartment, and ethan and reader reveal themselves as ghostface (you can decide whether they lose or not, also can reader and ethan be dating secretly but reader betrays him like Jill did Charlie)

Also if there's anything unclear in this ask just tell me I can send another clearing up confusion

Hi! I'm so sorry to turn this very detailed (and good) request down, but I do not write for Ethan --- not even platonically. In Scream, I write for Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Randy Meeks, Tatum Riley, Sidney Prescott, Mickey Altieri, Kirby Reid, Chad Meeks Martin, Mindy Meeks Martin, Tara Carpenter, Anika Kayoko and Laura Crane.

You can find all the fandoms and characters I write for here, and my rules for requesting here; where you can see that I have a strict policy of not accepting requests for the characters I don't write for, even if they're very detailed. Still, thank you for requesting, and if you do have a requests for any of the characters I do write for, don't hesitate to send them my way.

the scream fandom is starving from lack of mickey altieri fanfiction and it looks like it's my job to fix that smh

Dean Winchester x Reader: worrying chronicles.

Warnings: Swearing (probably), angsty?? but not really. John Winchester mentioned throughout the whole thing.

Tags: a bit angsty but with happy/fluffy ending, childhood friends, can be read as romantic, romantic coded, hunter!reader, reader has known sam and dean since kids, season 1, pre-season 1, can be read as black reader, can be read as plus size reader.

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 1036

Summary: Dean calls reader and tells them he’s going to Stanford to get Sam. Reader wants him to rest.

Author’s note: I rarely ever write for Dean! Not because I don’t like him (I LOVE HIM), but because since I haven’t finished the show (i’m on season 8) the requests have to be either pre-show or within those seasons. Anyways, Dean and Sam Winchester requests are open, but with those conditions !! love my boys <3 graphic made by me (CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW PRETTY HE IS?)

You weren’t doing anything special when Dean called, you were planning foods and cooking weeks in advance. The hunter life you had led all your life had taught you enough to know homemade foods were a privilege, and that new hunts would always come into your life without a warning, wrecking all your plans. So, after those terrible, almost death experiences you liked to call a work well done, it was nice to go back home and find your fridge full of frozen food you could just heat up and eat.

It was the ringing of the phone that made you lift your gaze up from the vegetables you were cutting so carefully, your movements coming to a halt in order to not lose a finger without it being in a worthy battle. You didn’t let go of the knife as your hand, after slightly cleaning it against your jeans, came to grab the cell phone on the counter. Barely glancing at the name from whom the call was, you pressed the device against your ear and continued with your work.

“It’s me.” You answered quickly, hearing the background noise from the other side of the line. It was easily recognizable, considering you were able to recognize the noises Dean’s Impala made even in your deepest sleep. Perks of being friends. “Y’know, you shouldn’t make phone calls while driving.”

“I can do two things at once.” Dean said with a little huff, and even though you were probably a good amount of miles apart, you noticed the way his voice didn’t sound the same. He had never been good with masking his worry, and you had never been good at not worrying about him. 

You stopped cutting slowly and moved away from the counter. If something had happened, you couldn’t have your attention split in two. “Yeah, you tell that to the cops… Is everything alright?”

A beat of silence, which Dean used to avoid your question. “I’m driving to Stanford to go get Sam.”

“What?”

The silence let you know Dean wouldn’t be repeating himself, but thankfully enough he stayed on the line, waiting for your amazement to reduce. You had known the Winchesters for years — Hell, you three had practically grown together. It had been some long time ago, but you still remembered like it was yesterday the phone call you received from Dean to tell you that Sam had given up on the hunter life and basically left home after a big argument with their dad, John Winchester. You also remembered Sam’s call, after Dean’s, telling you the news. It hadn’t hurt from Sam’s part, knowing that was what was best for him, but it had from Dean’s, since he hadn’t been able to accept that his brother leaving had nothing to do with him.

You wanted to tell Dean that dragging Sam back into a life he did not want was not what he was supposed to do as a brother, but your mind went into another direction, knowing he wouldn’t accept that lesson from you; or anyone. All these years, Dean had been working wonderfully with his father, or so he made it look like — if he needed Sam, something bigger was happening, and he wasn’t completely avoiding telling you.

“Why?” You asked finally, your hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Was a headache coming your way already?

“My dad’s on a hunting trip.” He replied quickly, and something in the way he  said it told you he had rehearsed those same words a lot. Not because of being untrue, though, you knew John had gone on a big trip on his own for some reason Dean either didn’t want to tell you or didn’t know about. “He hasn’t called, he hasn’t said anything. I don’t know crap about him.”

That was bad. John could be an asshole, but his rules during a lone hunt were unbreakable, and those included informing constantly about his whereabouts. “Have you asked Bobby? Maybe he—”

“No one knows anything.” Dean interrupted you, rather abruptly. He was truly worried, and you just hoped he wouldn’t lose sight of the road ahead of him. “Nothing, none, nada. I’m getting Sam, and we're going to find where the hell he is.”

“Dean, wait.” Your glance shifted to the clock in your kitchen, your hand closing in a nervous fist. “It’s too late. You should rest tonight and go tomorrow morning, early.”

You could almost see him shaking his head. “We can’t lose time.”

“What is going to change if you arrive tonight at Stanford?” You insisted, rolling your eyes at how strong headed he was. Years together, and you still were amazed at how little he listened. “Dean, you’re in no condition to drive. You’re tired and nervous, just drive to my place, and then tomorrow—”

He called out your name rather harshly, to make you stop. “I have to find him.”

“And you will. Just come and rest, De.”

Your eyes glanced again at the clock when silence and the noises from the road were the only thing you could hear. Dean was really good with his car and he didn’t drive badly, but when he was worried things changed — you had been in enough almost accidents for you to have good reasons to not want him so late in the road. And he knew you were right, but the decision was on his hands, and it couldn’t help but irk you slightly.

You could still push it, though. “Please?” You murmured, loudly enough for him to hear it but also low enough to be able to be lost in the distance between you.

Dean clicked his tongue, and then sighed. “I’m fifty miles away. Don’t wait for me, I’ll climb through your window or something.”

“I’ll wait.” You retorted, with that voice you used to show you were completely adamant about your decision. It wasn’t difficult to hear the little huffed chuckle he let out, and it made you ease up, to know he was finally slowing down and rationalizing things. “Don’t run too much, dickhead.”

With a little scoff, Dean hung up and you found yourself smiling at nothing at all. 

April Fool’s Day is in a few days, and I just wanted to make this clear. This blog is safe, and I can promise you no screamers, nothing emotionally abusive, no fake posts, and nothing to intentionally trigger dissociation. You are safe here.