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wokelander · 2 months

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(TELL ME I’M YOUR) NATIONAL ANTHEM !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. president!leon, intern!reader, drug mentions, affair, cheating, smut, p in v sex, oral, blowjob, just general presidential gross behaviour

note. commission for @slovakbabe :33 sorry this is so late.. kept changing it ugh! ignore any typos / mistakes :3 feedback / rbs appreciated. inaccurate bc i’m british 💔 some details r taken completely from lewinsky-clinton case! like umm the dress duh.. and some of the trial talk! also the part w claire um! sorry the pov keeps switching oh my gosh!!! hope u like this and I hope it was worth the wait!!! tried to compress the plot to make it fit into the word limit so if it sounds jumpy excuse me… readers personality changed ack..

God bless America, and God fucking bless nepotism.

You don’t know a thing about environmental quality, your carbon footprint is far bigger than your So Kates and it’s not something you’ve ever been concerned about. Dad was an advisor to whoever was in office twenty years ago and his last name takes you further than your English degree ever has.

The lady in charge of interviews tells you that you have a ‘good face’ and that must mean something. When you get the call a few weeks later you’re not surprised. Now your parents have something to gush over at soirées and afternoon tea parties - their girl is interning at the White House.

“He’s a liar, a total liar, you know, I don’t think he even knows what he’s doing, he reads off a script twenty-four-seven.” Claire can’t even pretend to be happy, she struggles to look at you when you drop the news over brunch.

“I mean he’s the President, Claire, lying is like his job,” you say to her, checking out your pores in your compact mirror, “and he’s hot, have you seen him in that Vogue photoshoot? The nineties one?”

“Yeah.” Her bottom lip juts out. “He’s also a sex pest, they just put whoever's got the most statutory rape allegations against them in office, the people’s vote doesn’t even count.”

“Jesus, he’s not that bad, Claire.” You stand up, dusting the crumbs off your lap and leaving a tip on the table.

“He knows Epstein.” Claire takes a moment to stand, but she follows when you start to walk away.

“Yeah, but not that Epstein, Claire.” In all honesty, you don’t know much about President Kennedy other than his sexual escapades, you know a lot about those. You know about his affair with Ashley ‘America’s Sweetheart’ Graham, and you know what she was wearing when they got caught by the media.

Graff earrings that weighed 52.55 carats each, you wonder how many children died digging out those white diamonds, a yellow cap-sleeve dress and white closed-toe pumps, four inches tall. She towered over him in the photos the same way his wife does.

“How many Epstein's are there?” She’s so intense, you feel the heat of her anger when your arm brushes hers.

“A lot, and not all of them are Jeffrey’s.” You turn to face her, giving her a smile in hopes of settling her down. “Now, I’m going to powder my nose in the ladies’ room and you’re going to wait out here, and when I come back you’ll be calm, ‘kay?”

When you return she’s not calm, and she’s not calm for the following week, but she wishes you good luck over the phone on Monday morning and it’s because Claire could never stay mad at a pretty girl.

You put on your best (read: shortest) dress, within regulations of course, you’re not looking to get fired on your first day, but you are looking to turn a certain head.

Your peers are dressed comfortably, to say the least, well, as comfortable as business wear can be.

Poor sartorial taste is always an indicator of wealth. The girl to your left might be a Harvard graduate, but if that tacky brooch says anything it’s that she came from a blue-collar neighbourhood. Her bouclé jacket is obviously thrifted and flats? Seriously? Ballet pumps in the White House must be a dress code violation.

The rumpled shirt of the boy directly in your eye line has got to be the biggest fashion faux pas you’ve seen like ever—Well, your sister wore white after Labour Day, and a chunky statement necklace a decade too late.

Smarts can only take you so far, but looks are everything. The clean-cut elegance of a Louboutin, a timeless red lip, and a nice ass in a tight skirt. Oh, you’ll be going places for sure.

(The second floor of the White House perhaps.)

Your superior, Helena, gets it. She’s tall and that always helps. Immaculately dressed in tailored pinstripe trousers, they’re not quite ankle-swingers, but short enough to show off her sleek boots.

Man, you should’ve gone to fashion school.

When everyone stands, smoothing the creases in their clothes, girls using their thumbs to clean the lipstick from the corners of their mouths - you’re a beat late, too many eyesores taking up the space in your head.

But there’s nothing for you to fix, you already look perfect, so you stand pretty while they tremble in ill-fitting dresses.

The camera adds ten pounds, President Kennedy is all the more handsome in the flesh. That face says Italian love affair, but you know that dick is American as apple pie.

His wife is close by his side, their arms looped in a show of sanitised intimacy. Sophistication is dead and gone, pillbox hats and pearls are out, Ada Wong is more seedy sex dungeon worker than Jackie O. It’s admirable really, you’ve got to have guts to dress like the mistress.

President Kennedy makes his way down the line of interns, and then, he pauses in front of you, close enough to smell his cologne. His eyes follow the clean lines of your outfit, and then he grips your hand too tight.

It’s when you’re mingling an hour later after your introductory session, Helena approaches you in her usual composed manner, and very simply says, “Be careful around him.”

“Who?” You ask though you know exactly who she means.

“Leon.” The informality takes you off guard, her brows furrow like his name is sour on her tongue.

“Oh.” You pretend to take this in, but you’ll suck dick to break the glass ceiling, you’d risk the Kennedy curse for that man. “I mean, I’ll try to be careful, but I have to be in his good books.”

Helena’s lips form a thin line. “Trying isn’t good enough.”

“Big day ahead of you.” Ada sits on the end of the bed, fully clothed to the detriment of Leon’s dick. A non-existent sex life is a side effect of marriage he hopes scientists are working on daily to find a cure for.

“Isn't every day a big day?” If it’s not constant meetings and putting false hope in the heart of every American, it’s brunch with world leaders and dinner with the Pope where cocaine is served under a cloche.

“Hm.” She places her teacup down, gliding towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders. “Nice tie.”

“I know,” Leon says absentmindedly, scraping the powder beneath his nails out, a makeshift French manicure, “It’s Armani.”

“And not custom-made?” She pinches his cheek, gentle in the way only a paring knife could be. Leaves a wound that won’t ache until he notices it in the mirror later. “You’re slacking, Mr. President.

“And you’re exasperating, Ada.”

“Wow.” Ada’s brows shoot up into her hairline. “That’s a big word.”

“Yeah, I’ve been learning.” Leon sniffs as she looks him over with practised attraction.

“Aw, just so you can be mean to me?”

“You know it, beautiful.”

The only good thing about today is the interns. Fresh meat. Leon’s a cat person, he likes cougars and sex kittens, and he’s sure there’ll be plenty to pick from. Older women are easy to please and younger ones are easy to charm, the moment he steps into that room, getting his dick wet is the main priority.

Hunnigan doesn’t have to know that he doesn’t really care about where these girls graduated from. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton. They’ve all got pussies and that’s what matters.

Leon makes his way down the line like it’s a pageant show.

Too short, too shy, too tall, too thin, too fat, straight up ugly.

And then there’s you. Put together, smiling at him all coy like you want him. Girls like Ashley don’t ask for it, they beg for it—You look like you know what you’re here for, you don’t need to beg ‘cause he likes you already.

Leon gets the chance to talk to you an hour later, Helena shoulders past him as he approaches, Hunnigan a few steps behind him. He hopes Helena didn’t say anything in bad taste. In her words, Leon is a ‘Napoleonic little fuck’ and if it wasn’t for the pay, she’d want nothing to do with him. She’s not his biggest fan, so he prays she hasn’t fucked it up for him before he even got a chance.

“So, how old are you?” Leon asks brashly, his mouth twitches upwards when you tilt your head to the side and challenge him with your gaze alone.

“I’m legal if that’s what you’re after, Mr. President.” You could tie his balls together like cherry knots with a sharp tongue like that.

“How legal?” Fucking legal? Drinking legal? Voting legal?

“Very legal, Mr. President, I wouldn’t get you into any trouble or anything.” Your smile is cheeky, and your eyes glint, you’re trouble from head to toe.

“I don’t need you to get me in trouble.” Leon smiles back at you, that skirt is so fucking tight, he wonders if he could get you out of it.

“Mr. President,” Hunnigan warns, her wooden face seems to come to life, a small frown gracing her lips.

“Don’t be jealous, baby, you know I love you and only you.” Leon takes her hand, kissing her fingers until she snatches it back. He catches you laughing into your palm.

See? Easy to charm.

“Mr. President.” His final warning.

“I’m joking.” Leon’s face softens when you slip past her into the crowd, hates to see you go, loves to watch you walk away.

“You need to work on your jokes, Mr. President.” Ada grabs his shoulder from behind and he’s chilled to his core. Jesus. She’s so fucking scary sometimes. “I think you’re having a midlife crisis, they’re getting younger by the second, we should get you a shrink, Leon.”

“Yeah, okay, Ada, you can stop trying to pimp me out.” He’s eye level with her today. She’s opted for a shorter pair of heels, less threatening.

“Pimp you out?” She scoffs, “I just don’t want to be bailing you out, Leon.”

“Don’t need to be bailed out.” Leon shrugs. “I’m the President.”

Being an intern, Helena tells you and the rest of your peers, it means you won’t get to brush shoulders with the President as much as you probably hoped. He doesn’t visit often. He’s busy—

But he comes every day like the sun.

He pretends to be interested in the environment, whatever it is that you’re meant to be doing, but Leon might be the biggest private jet offender yet.

You notice the agitation that crosses Helena’s face anytime he intrudes, it passes a moment later, back to her usual impassivity by the time he sticks his nose in your business.

“Merely interested,” Mr. President claims like he wasn’t looking down your shirt. “Just passing by,” he says when he places a hand on your shoulder and lets it linger.

He never goes further, and it drives you crazy. He’s the fucking President, he could get away with groping you in public, he could make you get on your knees right now and he’s holding back.

Being the President and all, you suppose he's immune to flattery, and that’s alright. You’re immune to diamonds and fast cars and designer dresses. Been there, done that. You won’t be swayed so easily, you don’t want his money, you want his dick and a little piece of his heart, a mention in his will, the key to the Kennedy estate.

You want to go down in history, any publicity is good publicity, you live and die by that. Weighing up the options, you decide playing hard to get is what might work best—He’s already got everything, and he already wants you, you know he does, but you’re going to take that away from him.

No more peeking down your blouse, no more wandering hands and no more flirting. You’re cutting him off, cold turkey. Like, yeah, hypothetically President Kennedy could get any girl he wanted, but he most certainly won’t be getting you, and every man wants what he can’t get.

By the end of the week, he’ll want to break you in like a pair of new dress shoes, he’ll be eating out the palm of your hand, and maybe your pussy from the back.

It works like a charm.

“You’re avoiding me,” Mr. Kennedy says, free of his security detail as he corners you in the hall, his nose brushing yours, eyes wide and desperate—It’s only been a week.

“What makes you think that, Mr. President?” You feign disbelief, placing a dainty hand over your heart. His eyes catch the light like a cats, a crescent of white eclipsing the blue.

“Leon,” he corrects, the usual smarmy smile wiped off his face, “say it.” His hand cups the underside of your chin, tilting it upwards.

You pretend to falter, gazing over his shoulder with glassy eyes like uttering his name is too much for a mere intern like you. It’s not, it’s really not.

“Leon…” You repeat back to him slowly, like you’re new to this planet and you’ve never heard the name outside of his utterance.

Slowly, Leon draws back, hands dropping to his side as he looks down at his shiny shoes. “Don’t… Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“All shy, it don’t suit you.”

“Oh.” So he knows what you were doing. Maybe you’re not as smart as you thought.

His hands ghost over your body, and he asks if you’ll meet him after dark. You’re an opportunist, so you accept and find yourself doing overtime in the Oval Office.

He’s gentler than you expect, cradling your face as he rocks his hips into you. You don’t kiss on the first date, but you’ve never been opposed to some fun. Leon’s head drops to rest on your shoulder, you wonder while you pass a hand over his hair if the Barbie blond is natural or a personal choice.

This is terribly boring, you thought there’d be something exciting about fucking in the Oval Office, but you find yourself more interested in the interior design. Could use a column or two, ionic or Doric or whatever.

Oh gosh is that a photo of his mom—And his wife is a given, oh and Ashley Graham is there too, is that even allowed? He doesn’t have kids, thank god.

Leon finishes on your stomach, then he twists to face the closed golden drapes - a sight you’ve only ever seen on the silver screen. Like clockwork, he plucks the mini flag from his desk and uses it like a handkerchief, wiping his cum from your stomach.

Planting his seed in American soil, you guess.

His body trembles with aftershocks in your hold, and he offers a weary smile. “Was it… Was it good?” Leon’s eyes shift, he can’t hold your gaze as he tucks his limp dick into his slacks.

Awaiting your answer, he toys with the buttons on his shirt like a child looking for comfort in what they’re used to, that nervous look is out of place on his face.

“Of course it was good,” you lie, smoothing down your skirt, “you’re the President.” You don’t step into your heels yet, instead letting him revel in the inch or so he has on you, kissing his protruding collarbone.

That brings him to his senses, Leon’s chest puffs as he nods like it’s all coming back to him, his arrogance. “Right, yeah, I am.”

Before you leave, Leon takes your wrist in his hand, his nails look manicured. He’s got the nose for cocaine so you don’t put it past him. “Same time tomorrow?”

You smile at him sweetly. “Of course.”

Duh. You haven’t got a legacy out of him yet, nobody knows your name outside of your social circle and that’s not enough. Nice cars, colonial mansions—It’s not enough, you don’t need what you already have. When disposable income is all you know, when money grows in your backyard, it’s nothing about that. You won’t be done until you’ve run him into the ground.

Sure, you’re two yachts and a beach house in Miami rich, but you’re not the First Lady. You could boss around a maid or two, get a server fired when you go out to eat, but you don’t have world leaders rolling out red carpets for you to walk on when you land.

Honestly, if you weren’t so concerned with your figure, you’d think about poking a couple holes in the rubber—If that dick even works right.

A week later, you have him kissing your ankles while they dangle over his shoulders, the wet sound of his balls slapping your ass and strained moans as he tries to keep it down filling your ears.

Again, nothing to write home about, his tip barely manages to knock your cervix as he fucks into you with all he’s got, panting into your mouth while you kiss him. You gave up on faking it a couple of days in, you’ve a very good liar, but not a great actor.

You find that your disinterest gets him going, he sees it as a challenge, Leon takes pride in making you do as little as sigh when he thumbs your clit with deft fingers.

“Fuck, wait, I’m gonna—“ His eyes are lidded, staring at you expectantly while his hips stutter, dick pulsing inside of your slick cunt, his tip is wetter than you are. “Can I?”

“Yeah, sure.” You give him the green light and he spills inside of you, it trickles out, dribbling back down his shaft and leaving a residue on the underside of your ass. “I didn’t finish,” you tell him, unsticking your thighs from the glossy wood so you can shift back and spread your legs wide.

Slowly but surely, Leon gets the hint, slightly flustered by how straightforward you’re being. His thumbs part your pussy lips, tongue licking up the centre of your cunt, eating his cum out of your wet hole. You place a hand on the back of his head, pushing him into you, his nose bumps your clit and you gasp.

Oh god, why is his nose more talented than he is? You feel Leon’s fingers push into you, two to keep you happy, curling upwards as his lips latch onto your clit. You cum on his tongue, toes curling in your shoes, it’s pleasant and nothing more, like sun-warmed water lapping at your toes.

Leon moves to kiss you, his pink lips wet with your pussy, you want him to go home and kiss his wife with that mouth, you want him to wear your scent in place of his cologne. Your pussy is super prestigious, costs way more than Tom Ford.

Foxes are nifty little things - sometimes they come in the form of young girls with nice asses.

You’re pissing him off.

Nice car, wow, Mr. President! My dad has one parked in the garage, but we haven’t used it in a while. It's too loud, disturbs the neighbours. Oh, Leon, you shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have, I don’t wear yellow diamonds, haven’t you heard of colour theory? They so don’t suit my undertones. Wow, Mr. Kennedy! You were in an episode of Friends once thirty years ago? Oh, gosh, you played Joey’s distant Italian cousin? That’s so crazy, my mom and Jennifer Aniston work out together every Tuesday!

Nothing’s enough, and that’s never been a problem for Leon. Even girls who have everything, Ashley Graham to name one, swoon over classic cars and ball gowns and him. They go crazy over him, but you’re using him as a stepping stool for something else. What else? What more could you want?

Leon might be fucking stupid when it comes to politics, he doesn’t know what to say without prompts, he doesn’t know shit about Guam or Penamstan or much at all—But he’s not dumb, you’re using him, and he’s letting you use him. Walking all over him in six-inch pumps, leaving your lipstick on his collar like you own him, sucking his dick so damn good he can't get rid of you.

You’re like a bed bug. A really hot bed bug. You’re also young, but his cock doesn’t care for morals or ethics and it never really has. Dick wants what the dick wants.

He isn’t going to be stupid this time—You don't want to be impressed so Leon won’t waste time buying you jewellery you consider old fashion, no need to take you for spins in vintage cars, you just want him. He gets it - everyone likes him.

“You’ve never taken me home,” you tell him one night, the white hotel sheets draped over your naked body, angel wings or a shrouded corpse, he's not quite sure.

“There’s nothing interesting at home.” Leon’s bottom lip juts out, preening when you scratch under his chin.

“Doesn’t have to be interesting.” You’re buttering him up with kisses. “You like me, right, Leon?”

“I guess so.” He grunts when you give him a swift elbow in the gut. “I’m kidding, of course I like you.”

“Then why don’t you want to take me home?” Your greed is so violent it grows teeth, he feels your nails digging into his skin.

He gives you one look. “You should know your place.” In my life, at work. An intern and a mistress.

You’re not one to back down. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” Leon says quickly, fuck, man, you’re scary. Ada isn’t scary, she’s just a bitch, in a hot way—You’re, like, mean. You boss him around and for some reason, he listens. Jesus Christ, isn’t the power imbalance meant to go the other way around?

“I want to come home with you,” you beg, but it’s not really begging, it's an instruction, “I want to sleep in your bed, don’t you like me?”

“I do like you, baby,” he insists, sighing softly when you take your hands off of him, he still feels the sting of your nails on his back, “I like you a lot, you think I treat anyone else like this?”

“Yeah, I bet you do this to every girl.” When it’s just the two of you, when he gets you bare like this, your age shows.

“Not true,” he scoffs.

(Obviously, that’s true.)

“Okay, so then if I’m sooo special, you should take me home.” God, you’re gonna ask him to dump his wife next. This is the problem with rich kids, they’re as entitled as he is. “It’s not like you have kids.”

Leon’s carelessness is lined with caution. He’ll take a mistress or two, but he won’t take that home. That’s something you do outside of the marriage bed. But you’re a kid, you wouldn’t know that, this is probably the first time you’ve fucked a married man, let alone the President.

“It doesn’t work like that, baby,” he tries carefully, pinching your cheek, “you’re a smart girl, you should know better.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m not a kid.” It’s spoken like an accusation, his fingers lose all dexterity when you push him away.

“I know, baby, but you’re being a little selfish right now, you know that?” Comforting you is a balancing act, he flicks through a Rolodex of tactics in his head. He lands on making you feel small. Guilt-tripping doesn’t work on girls who are spoiled rotten, begging just makes you feel like the shit. “It’s not just about you here, is it?”

When you don’t answer, he continues. “If I took you home, I’d put everything at stake, I know you know that.” Leon pulls you apart like orange segments while you turn his mind into your personal playground—It’s a fair trade.

You turn over quietly and he knows he’s won.

It goes on for a month, and then two, and then three and then more—Leon finds himself wondering when it’s time to introduce you officially as his side piece. Unofficially, most insiders know, but the press hasn’t picked up on it yet. If Ada knows she says nothing about it - she lets him be quietly awful.

Your duties with Helena dwindle and he finds you under his desk more often than not, lips stretched around his cock, your lipstick smeared on his shaft.

Leon slaps his dick against your cheek and you jump, shoulders up near your ears.

“Don’t do that.” You pop off his cock to scold him, the wet of your mouth engulfing him a moment later, head bobbing as you take him to the hilt.

“Sorry,” he nearly whines, lips parting when you mouth along his dick, licking the seam of his sac when you reach the base.

Your hand works his cock while you suck on his heavy balls, leaving your red kisses all over him, he’ll watch them run down the drain when he showers. He feels your teeth graze his sensitive skin and the knot in his lower belly snaps, seed spurting from his leaky tip and landing on your cute red blouse in white ribbons. You kind of look like a red velvet cake.

“Oh fuck, Leon!” You knock your head on the desk when you get up, rubbing the forming bump with a groan as you dab at the stain on your shirt with a tissue.

“I’m sorry, you surprised me!” He makes no move to help ‘cause when he does try you only seem to get more agitated at him.

“Fuck, just—How am I supposed to go home like this?” The stain is pretty much cemented, that shit is potent, goddamn.

“You can take my jacket,” Leon offers, ever the gentleman.

“Right, and let everyone find out?” You raise a brow at him.

“Thought that’s what you wanted anyway,” he huffs.

“I do, but not like this,” you groan, missing the trashcan when you toss the clump of wet tissues, “I want to be caught doing something romantic, or just glamorous, not with your fucking dick in my mouth.”

“Oh, baby,” Leon coos, “but you’ve always got my dick in your mouth.”

“Shut up, Leon, oh—Whatever, just, I’m leaving, okay? Don’t call me tonight.” You grab your handbag from his desk, heels click-clacking as you exit, a very proud and noticeable stain on your right tit. He likes that one better.

Leon doesn’t call you, he finds himself away on foreign business, swept up by presidential duties for once and too busy to answer any calls that aren’t to do with work. He’s in Paris overseeing whatever Hunmigan told him to oversee when the news breaks. He never sees your voicemails until they come to him in the form of transcripts.

Leon, oh god, I’m sorry—I’m sorry for being a bitch last week, but can you please call me back? It’s important.

Leon? I’m sorry, can you call me back? It’s really important, I’m—I’m not fucking around, I promise. It’s just that, oh god, Leon, I really messed up, I can’t believe… I don’t want you to hate me for this, I know you’re mad at me, but please can you answer? They didn’t let me in today, they said you were away and—I told them who I was, that I worked there, I gave them Helena’s name and they still, Leon they didn’t let me in. I thought they knew about us.

Leon, I can’t—I need you to answer me, I feel like I’m talking into thin air, can you please just call me back, please, Leon? It’s urgent. I fucked up, I just need you to answer me so we can fix this, I fucked up so bad and I’m sorry, Leon—I was, I was stupid, but I can fix it if you just answer me. I love you a lot, Leon, please answer me.

I didn’t mean to call her, Leon, I didn’t—I mean, she’s my friend, I tell her everything and I wasn’t thinking. I was just upset, I just wanted to talk to someone about it, I didn’t know she would—I didn’t know she would do that to me. I didn’t fucking know, I just wanted to talk to somebody, I just—Please, don’t be mad at me, Leon.

I was frustrated, I told her about the shirt, why I got mad at you—I didn’t think anything of it, I tell her everything so I didn’t think it would be—I mean, she was acting weird, I was gonna take the shirt to be dry-cleaned after you fucked it up, but she told me I looked fat in it and that’s so—Leon, that’s so weird of her to say, Claire would never say that to me and I was fucking thinking at the time, that’s so weird, she would never say anything like that to me—Shit, and she even said it weird, y’know? Like it hurt her to say it, and I fucking just left it in the back of my closet, I don’t know why, she just got in my head about it ‘cause she’d never say anything like that and I was so confused. Oh fuck. God. I really love you, Leon, like, a lot. Call me back, it’s urgent, please don’t do this to me.

The press conference is held two weeks later, and surprisingly, you don’t show your face or make a fuss. He thought you’d cause a riot, that you’d sell that blouse for millions, get it DNA tested, ruin his life in a few seconds. It might be shame or heartbreak, Leon doesn’t know.

He wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks. From beside him, Hunnigan gives him a slight nudge. “You call her a woman, not a girl, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” he says, posed up in front of an American flag like a pinup girl, “I want you all to listen to me, I’m gonna say this again, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” He’s distinctly handsome on your flatscreen TV.

This man is full of nothing but his own prick.

How could you be so stupid? You should’ve kept it strictly business, but of course, you wanted more, you always want more.

While you suppress the urge to cry, your mom places a hand on your shoulder. “No use crying over spilt milk, honey,” she hums, going back to her fashion magazine a moment later.

But it is, he ruined that blouse, and you love that blouse. Not to mention you’re a laughing stock. You’re not the First Lady, you’re just some crazy bitch who lied about fucking the President.

It’s not fair, he gets to come away with everything intact, you’re the one who loses everything. Your internship, Claire, respect, everything. It’s all coming undone. All that dick you sucked landed you nowhere, and he—He just gets off scot-free.

You need to take him down.

Leon was smart enough to leave no evidence, he rarely messaged, he only called and call logs alone are never enough to prove anything. You’ve got all those gifts, but that means nothing to anyone, you can’t prove who got them.

Oh.

What got you in this mess in the first place is bound to get you out of it.

You ask Daddy to get you a good lawyer and you open up your case against Leon Scott Kennedy. DNA testing is on your side, the results tell the nation that it is in fact his American seed on your blouse and that their President is a sex fiend who likes to break young girls with bright dreams and promising futures.

Which, of course, isn’t true, you knew what you were getting into, but you’d happily lie to get the last word. To wipe the smile off his smug fucking face. You still want to fuck him, you still like him a lot. He sticks to you in an unpleasant way, like his cum.

“He’s on TV again,” your sister lets you know, and you lift your head from a court document to watch your ex-boyfriend fumble his way through a thorough grilling.

Leon dodges questions well, but you can tell he’s getting nervous. His fingers twitch and his blinking becomes more rapid. “Uh, what qualifies as sexual relations?” He tries to throw them off with his stupidly hot smile, his dimples and white teeth and pretty eyes when he knows damn well that being balls deep in your pussy is a sexual fucking relation.

“She wanted me,” he says finally, and Hunnigan closes her eyes like she knows it’s over, running her hand over her face as Leon undoes a lifetime of her work, “she wanted me, who was I to say no—As an American man, it’s my duty to listen to our women.”

Oh, he’s so fucking screwed. Why did you fuck such an idiot? You should’ve gone for an actor instead.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

President Leon S. Kennedy

July 19, 2024.

KENNEDY:

Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans, good evening.

Today, I’m standing here to take complete responsibility for all my actions, public and private. I’m here to admit to a personal failing, an indiscretion, that has hurt my family, colleagues, and the American people.

It is with great regret that I admit to having an extramarital affair with [REDACTED]. This was a serious lapse in my judgement and a personal failure, one that has brought endless pain to those around me, it was never my intention to disappoint the ones I hold so dear.

As I told the grand jury today, at no time did I ask for evidence to be destroyed or hidden, at no time did I ask anyone to lie for my wrongdoings. This is not a moment for excuses or justification, my actions were wrong, plain and simple. I misled both the nation and my wife with my previous statements, I understand that it gave a false impression to those around me, and to those who trust me. I deeply regret that.

My actions have caused the nation pain and needless embarrassment, and for that, I am truly sorry.

I had concerns for my family and protecting their privacy, the independent counsel investigation moved onto staff, family members, friends of mine and it has gone on for too long.

Our country has been distracted by this matter for too long, and I committed to taking full responsibility for this transgression. Once again, I apologise and aim to reclaim my private life for my wife, friends and colleagues. It’s nobody’s business but ours.

I humbly ask for your understanding and patience as I strive to earn back the trust of my fellow people, of our God, and of those around me.

Our nation faces significant challenges that require my full dedication, I ask for us to turn away from this spectacle, to move forward to come together and focus on the tasks ahead, to remain united in our efforts to build a better tomorrow.

Thank you for watching. God bless America. And good night.

#leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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hazbinwhoree · 7 months

Note

We know how much of a tease Adam is which made me wonder

Angel reader being the butt of his short jokes but he's met with an interesting response

"Since I'm so short, put some inches in me then"

Inches

Adam was over a foot taller than (Name). His frame dwarfed hers in comparison. And Adam loved this.

He was constantly teasing (Name) for her height. Verbally or physically, using her head as an armrest, he was always on her ass.

“I have to kneel to talk to you face to face,” came Adam’s teasing.

Today, (Name) had had enough of it. “Since I’m so short, put some inches in me then.”

Adam stopped walking, smirk wiped clean off his face. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Adam cursed her in his head for saying something like that while they were out in public where he couldn’t ravage her. He turned on his heel and grabbed (Name) by the arm, dragging her with him. “Hey!” (Name) protested, struggling to keep up.

Adam reached down and threw (Name) over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded on his back but Adam didn’t care, booking it home.

When (Name) realized why Adam was behaving the way he was, she went still. Then, without warning, she began to stroke his wings. Adam gasped, entire body stiffening.

“You little fucking tease,” he hissed, powering forward.

(Name) giggled, knowing she was in for it in the best way.

When they got home, Adam marched straight up to the bedroom, throwing (Name) down onto the bed. He rummaged around in his nightstand for a moment before he found what he was looking for. Rope.

(Name) tried to get away, but Adam overpowered her. He basically sat on her as he tied a wrist to the bedpost. With one wrist captured, the other was much easier, and it didn’t take long before (Name) was tied to the bed.

She squirmed, pulling on her binds and Adam crossed his arms. “I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he growled. “Fucking bitch, teasing me out in public like that. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

(Name) smirked.

“Oh, you think that’s funny? Let’s see if it’s still funny when I actually put some inches in you.”

Adam grabbed his pocket knife from the nightstand and cut off (Name)’s shirt since he couldn’t exactly pull it over her head.

“Hey,” (Name) whined. “I liked that shirt–” “Take your punishment like a good girl.” That shut her up fast.

Adam discarded the ruined fabric to tug down her sweatpants and panties. When (Name) was bare before him, Adam took off his mask and stood back to admire his work. Then, he left the room.

“Adam?” (Name) called.

Adam returned a moment later with the burger he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat at lunch.

“You’re not fucking serious.”

He took a massive bite. “Dead serious,” he said, muffled by the food in his mouth. He swallowed. “You teased me first.”

“So you tie me up naked while you eat a fucking burger?”

“Yup.”

God, (Name) hated him sometimes. She could do nothing but sit there, bound and naked, while Adam polished off his lunch. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Don’t hate the player for playing your game,” Adam retorted.

(Name) supposed she had started this.

When Adam finished eating, he took his sweet time, brushing his teeth, slowly beginning to undress. (Name) whined. “Adam,” she dragged out the “m”. Adam snickered. “Yeah, baby?” he teased. (Name) groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation.

Finally, finally, Adam finished undressing, and crawled onto the bed. (Name)’s legs shook in excitement. Adam smirked. “So needy.” “Shut up and put some inches in me,” (Name) demanded. Adam laughed. “You’re not in the position to be making demands, babe, but lucky you,” Adam crawled on top of her, pressing his erection against her crotch. “I actually want to do that.”

(Name) spread her legs wider. “Please,” she begged.

Adam finally took pity, grinding his dick against her wet core. (Name) moaned, relieved by some friction. She thrusts her hips up and Adam covered her mouth with his. His tongue invaded her mouth and he swallowed the desperate sounds she made.

His hands began to wander, trailing up her sides and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands found her breasts and he flicked his thumbs over (Name)’s perked nipples. She moaned, arching her back and pushing her chest further into his grasp.

Adam smirked. She was so sensitive.

He began to roll his hips, setting a steady pace of humping one another.

“Put it in,” (Name) whined. “You’re not in charge,” Adam replied. “You wanted this.” “Yeah, I wanted your dick, and you’re not giving it to me.” “Don’t play dumb.” Adam pinched her nipple and (Name) threw her head back.

“You want me to fuck you so bad it’s pathetic,” Adam snickered. (Name) groaned. “Beg for it and maybe I will.”

“Please, Adam, Dickmaster, whatever, please, please, please, fuck me.”

Adam hummed, reaching down between them to line himself up with her entrance. Then he sunk in slowly, stopping when just the tip was in. (Name) was losing her shit.

“Adam, come on!”

Adam pushed into her painfully slowly, taking a full minute to bottom out. When he did, they both sighed in relief, and Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s. He’d planned to tease her more, but now that he was inside her, his patience was wearing thin.

He gripped her hips, keeping them still as she tried to move. “Fuck me,” (Name) begged.

Adam finally began to move his hips, thrusting in and out at a slow and sensual pace that was driving (Name) crazy. But he couldn’t keep it up for long.

He grabbed her legs by the backs of her knees, pushing her knees up towards her chest, basically folding her in half.

With the new position and the new angle, Adam dropped all teasing and began desperately thrusting into her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

(Name) moaned, holding onto the ropes that binded her wrists for dear life.

Adam’s pace was brutal, pulling out and slamming back in hard. “How does it feel to have those inches in you, hm?” Adam tried to keep his voice strong, but it was breathy with pleasure.

“Good, so good,” (Name) babbled. “You’re so good, Adam.”

The praise went straight to Adam’s dick, and he pounded into her harder, his grip on her legs tightening as he began to reach his peak. But he’d be damned if he didn’t make (Name) cum first.

She was close too, her walls tightening and constricting around him. Adam made sure to hit the same spot over and over, the spot that was making (Name) see stars. Her mouth hung open in slack pleasure.

“Adam,” her voice was high pitched. “That’s it, baby, cum on these inches.”

His words sent (Name) over the edge and she came with a gasp. Adam, satisfied, chased his own release, the sound of skin on skin reverberating around the room.

“Fuck, (Name),” he gasped before he came deep inside of her. He dropped her legs and (Name) gratefully stretched them out. Adam collapsed on top of her and briefly wondering why she wasn’t holding him until he remembered he’d tied her up.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of her to begin working on the knots around her wrists. When she was free, he kissed the irritated red skin of each wrist in apology.

Exhausted, he collapsed on the bed and pulled (Name) into him, draping his wing around her. She cuddled into his chest, still trying to steady her breathing.

“How was that for putting some inches in you?”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty #hazbin valentino #oneshot #oneshots #smut

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l0vergirlv0mit · 8 months

Note

not a smut request, but abby or ellie comforting an upset reader who's got runny mascara and tears down her face🥲?

A/n: You requested this sooo long ago sorry I’m just now writing it😞 but thank you once again for a BANGER request comfort is favorite to write 🤭🤭🤭

Pairing: abby anderson x reader

warning: reader in emotional distress

You’d held back tears the whole way home from work. Your throat hurt from choking them down for the past 2 hours at least. Now you were finally at the front door of your home, your hand shaking as you try to unlock the door.

It only made you more frustrated unable to steady your hand. The tears finally breaking through as you got the key in the hole. Your vision was blurred as you walked into the house and put your things down. The tears fully streaming down your face in silence.

Abby had worked from home today and called to you from the living room. You didn’t even try to process what she said as you walked to your shared bedroom and then into the attached bathroom.

You closed the bathroom door to take a moment to silently sob. Your boss completely berated you before you left work talking about how your performance was not up to par and threatening to fire you. It was completely uncalled for given you were one of the best workers in the office. It scared you more than anything, it made you feel weak that you were making such a fuss over a threat.

Every worry spun around in your mind as you sat in the edge of the tub. A soft knock sounded from the door bringing you out of your chaos of a mind. Abby was on the other side listening to your struggle breaths and sniffles worried sick. “H-honey? Can I come in?” She said tentatively, when you had ignored her and walked right past her you were wearing a facial expression she’d never seen before and couldn’t read. She didn’t know if she had done something to make you upset and it made her stomach hurt with concern.

You looked up at the ceiling as if trying to connect to a higher power and tried taking a deep breath. You didn’t want Abby to see you like this but she was probably the only person in the world that would make you feel even remotely ok right now.

“Yeah come- come in Abby.” You had to stop halfway through to choke down the tears that came up again. She opened the door carefully peaking at you, you gave her a weak tight lipped smile. “Oh baby” Abby whispered quickly entering the room and closing the door. “Oh my god, oh my god what happened?!” She walked over and kneeled between your legs getting eye level. She was almost frantic looking over your wet face.

She pushed stray hairs behind your ears and held your cheeks tenderly. It became too much and you began to cry again. You felt too vulnerable and grab Abby’s hands taking them and holding them in your lap, then looking down as if trying to hide from her. She feels tears nearly come up at the sight of her inconsolable lover.

She gets up from the floor and pulls you into her. Her strong arms keep you up and in place securely. She presses your head into her chest not caring about how your wet mascara was staining her shirt and the other arm holds your waist keeping you on your feet. She left a kiss on the top of your head and held you until you had calmed down again. Whispering sweet words to you making you feel as safe as possible.

You finally calmed and stilled in her arms and she pulls back looking at you concerned. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to ok honey.” She said practically whispering taking the softest tone she could. You shook your head deciding to speak.

“My b-boss basically told me I suck at my j-job a-a-nd he could fire me soon if he wanted.” You shrugged defeated and to exhausted to get angry about it. Your words shaky trying to push past sniffing and hyperventilation. Abby on the other hand looked like she was going to kill someone. But she’d be lying if it didn’t relieve her that it wasn’t her fault that you were upset. “That doesn’t make any sense you work so fucking hard for that company.” She strains to keep her voice nice and sweet for you as she imagines turning your bosses face into a pulp.

“He was so m-mean Abby.” You hiccup and her heart breaks over and over again. She cups your face making you look at her. “I’m so sorry honey.”Abby just about wanted to ball hearing your voice become so small and depleted. “I’m s’scared Abby.” Abby shook her head at this. “No, no, there’s no reason, just know that if anything happens I’ll take care of you. Ok?” Abby’s eyes watered fully taking on your distress. Anger rumbled around in her chest but she knows that’s not what you needed right now. You need her sweet words she’d plan a hit on your boss later. “What can I do to make you feel better?” Her thumb rubs your cheek removing some of the runny mascara and she looks over your whole face lovingly.

You hiccup again before answering. “I j-just wanna lay down and sleep.” Your so so tired barely having any energy to speak. Your words nothing but soft whispers to keep from crying again. Abby nods letting you go and walking into the bedroom.

She comes back with her large hoodie and your comfy sleep shorts. You already feel better knowing how taken care of you are. Abby sets the clothes down pulling your make up remover out of the cabinet putting it on a cotton pad and gently taking your now smudged makeup off. She works quietly the only sounds in the room being your sniffles and hiccups.

“Your so pretty baby.” Abby whispered getting a small tired smile out of her sweet tired girl making her smile even bigger. She placed a kiss on your forehead once she finished. “All clean.” She said feeling accomplished. She made quick work of helping you into your pjs and putting your hair into braids to get it off your neck.

You both walk into the bedroom Abby pulls up the covers for you to get into the bed and lays down with you. She let you come to her, nuzzling into her contently. Abby tangled together with you, and she scratched your back comfortingly. You let your eyes close and fell asleep quickly so desperate to forget the day. “I’ll wake you up when dinners ready.” Abby whispered before carefully maneuvering to not wake you up and slipping away into the kitchen.

Thank you for reading tehehe

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader

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int-writersmind · 10 months

Text

Fragile

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The first night you and Peter are intimate together...

Part 3 of Potential Customer (could be read as a standalone)

Warnings: Smut, smut, (semi-dirty) Smut, unprotected sex (whoops), little Fluff at the end

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: This series started off pretty gn w/ the Reader so I tried my best to carry that on w/ this part. Forgive me if isn't that great, I'm a cis woman trying her best, Enjoy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is this ok?” Peter asks.

“Yes. It. Is. You flop against your bed, elbows holding yourself up, slowly opening your legs, giving Peter space to situate himself in between. He stands there for a moment looking you up and down before leaning over you. “Are you down?”

“Hell yes.”

He quickly kisses you on your lips before going to your neck, peppering more down your throat. Your fingers go to the front of his shirt, pushing the buttons through the loops. His hands go to your pants, slowly unbuttoning, then pushing them down. You peel off his shirt as you reach the last of the buttons, his hands trailing up your body, bringing your shirt upwards and over your head. He brings his hands down your body, down your chest, fingers gliding over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their absence. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your pants, pulling them off in one easy swoop.

As your hands go towards Peter’s pants you catch him looking you up and down, his eyes practically memorizing your skin. “Gosh, you’re making me nervous…” You say.

Peter’s eyes immediately go to yours, “I don’t mean to, just…taking everything in” He goes towards your ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’m making sure I don’t forget a single thing.” You chuckle as you push his pants down, Peter helping, making sure it comes off. Your fingers creeping towards Peter’s waistband are going to pull them down— ”You sure? Last chance to change your mind.”

“Whatever you’re hiding, Peter Parker, I wanna see.” You push his underwear down all the way, fighting the urge to look down. You fail, of course, face turning red, you bring your eyes back up to meet Peter’s. He kisses your smirk away, bringing a hand in between your legs, touching you in ways that make your eyes shut, his hand movements making you gasp and struggle under his touch. “Oh..my…”

Peter’s hands pick up the pace, causing that heat in the low of your stomach to grow. You feel yourself reaching your peak before Peter takes his hand away, causing you to groan in response. “...Not yet” Peter whispers, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking away your excess from his fingers.

His hands take your hips and pull them closer to him, one hand gripping onto your hip, the other guiding himself inside of you. You wince the deeper he goes, and you gasp, going to clutch his shoulder.

“Am I hurting you?” Peter whispers.

“Oh god no,” You bring one hand to his face and using the back of your hand softly graze his face. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me.”

Peter bends down, placing a kiss on your lips as he starts to move, slowly at first, gentle, perhaps a little too gentle for you.

“I’m not fragile, you know?” Your voice is low and soft.

“I know.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“I know.”

“Then Peter,” You grip his chin, keeping his face straight on yours. “Pick up the fucking pace.” You both laugh as Peter does in fact take your suggestion into consideration, snapping his hips into you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

As Peter keeps up the pace, he grips your headboard, leaving a slight dent in the metal that you don’t notice until the next day. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping at the sweaty skin.

Your hands graze his back, feeling the curves of his moving muscles, fingers falling into the dip of his shoulder blades. One hand going to the low of his back, slowly pushing downward, giving him permission to go deeper, opening more of yourself to him.

Peter looks down, his hair damp causing it to curl and stick to his forehead, his sweat making him almost glow. Your eyes catch one another, neither one of you daring to break contact. The arm resting on the headboard falls to rest next to your head, the other caressing the side of your leg. Peter slows the pace, but not the pressure. “Oh god, I-” Peter struggles to get out. “I-”

One of your hands snakes their way from nape to scalp, gently massaging his roots. “Tell me what you want.” You respond.

“I-uh-” His head dips forward to kiss you, on the chin first, then the side of your face, to behind your ear. “God-I-”

You gently tug his head backward so that your eyes are finally meeting together once again, his movement stills for a moment. “I want you to use your words, sweetheart.”

Peter laughs at this, “I think I’m the one that is supposed to say that.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You move up and gently bite him on the ear, “Plus I can’t imagine you saying that.”

Peter growls just slightly, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me” His mouth moves to your ear, “Like all the naughty things I want to say to you, want to do to you.”

The two of you look at one another again, holding intense eye contact before breaking out into laughter. “Well, so? Do I get the part?” Peter asks.

“Shut the fuck up…”

The two of you embrace in a hot, messy, kiss, your arm hooking him closer, tongues entering each other's mouth.

“I want you,” Peter says between gaps of kissing, breathless, “Not just now, but every night, just like this.”

The two of you break away from one another, Peter looking down smiling such a genuine smile that you couldn’t help but blush from this intimacy, from his vulnerability. Thank god you didn’t call out of work that day.

“Ditto.” Was all you managed to say, you smiled back, causing him to chuckle and grin in response.

You turn on your stomach, Peter placing kisses down from the nape of your neck down to your tailbone. He gently lifts your hips, before guiding himself into you once again.

A sigh falls from your lips at the familiar feeling inside of you, Peter’s hips crashing into you, pressing you into the bed farther and farther, one hand going between your legs, pleasuring yourself.

Peter’s head leans down, resting on your shoulder, his moans and groans turning you on more than anything he was doing physically. One of your hands, resting on the bed, is soon covered by Peter’s, his hand interlocking with yours, squeezing, and squeezing and squeezing–

“Ow, Peter-”

Peter quickly stops everything, lifting his head from your shoulder. “Oh God, I, I-”

“Hey,” You turn your head, craning to see his worried face. “Accidents happen, and remember I’m not fragile.” You turn on your back once more, careful to not let him slip out of you. “Just keep your eyes on me, babe, keep your eyes on me.

You hold his face in both your hands, pulling him for another kiss on the lips, then another on one side of his face “Darling,” Than another on the other side, “Honey,”

“God, we gotta talk about this obsession with pet names,” Peter responds, the panic finally leaving his face.

You giggle back, “Only after you fuck me like you did earlier.”

You hold each other's attention as Peter does just that, eyes never leaving each other, noses so close that with every thrust his nose brushes against yours. You bring one hand in between your legs, making quick work to bring yourself back to the edge, so close you could trip into pleasure. “Ah, ah- oh god, Peter…”

Waves of pleasure spread throughout your body, the heat that built in the lower part of your stomach spreading to every inch. You throb against Peter inside you, with him continuing his pace, until he’s burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning as he releases inside of you, pressing your bodies against one another.

Letting some of his body weight on you, Peter lifts his head so he can look at you, glancing back, spent, but happy.

Seemingly untired from the whole ordeal, Peter climbs up your body kissing you again, deeply, passionately, as if he didn’t know you would escape and never come back.

Tired, you kiss back, running your hands through his hair as you do so. As Peter finally looks into your eyes. “God we are so sweaty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so fucking…I don’t even…I don’t even know.”

Peter takes himself out of you, shifting so he lays next to you, leaning over to look at you. “You know what? I’m gonna have to wash that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Oh please,” You go to thwack Peter on the forehead with your pointer finger flicking from your thumb. “Weren’t you the one that had naughty things to say to me?”

He catches your wrist effortlessly, placing a kiss on the inside, “Doesn’t count, I was under a lustful haze.”

“Fuck you!” You say, laughing as his head turns to face you.

“You already did.”

You roll your eyes before sitting up and placing a kiss on Peter’s lips. “Don’t go anywhere I gotta pee.”

And you do so, as Peter remains on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, an image that makes you chuckle as you come back. “God, you-you look even better now.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m literally naked.” You climb back in bed, turning to lay on your side to face him.

“Maybe,” He turns to his side as well, “But I would say that to you even if you wore twenty layers of the heaviest of snow clothes.”

“Yeah maybe to yourself”

“Ugh, just get over here!”

The two of you just laugh as Peter pulls you into his chest, turning you around so that your back is now flush against his chest.

“Ugh, Pete, I’m sticky and hot.”

“I really don’t care.”

You reach back to play once again with his hair, “But I’m sweaty, so, so sweaty.”

“God, you could say a million other things and it wouldn’t matter,” He lifts his head so his lips are close to your ear, “I want you.”

“And I want you.” You strain your neck to see him, “Only for your body, of course.”

“Of course”

The two of you laugh as the moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a conversion that no one else will hear, but would be the start of something amazing to the both of you.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Hey thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, Part 4 (the final part) will be out Sunday. Hope to see you there 😜

masterlist

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samwinchesterswifu · 4 months

Text

You're All I Need to Get By (Sam Winchester x Reader) Fluff

Early Seasons Era

Song Inspo: "You're All I need to Get By" by Aretha Franklin

Warnings: none

MINORS DNI

A/N: okay okay okay. This is just a cute silly lil fluff I got out of my system, enjoy <3

Word Count: 985

Summary: A small look into how she takes care of her boys.

Sunshine began to bleed through the worn out curtains of the current motel they were propped up in. Stirring awake, she grins at the realization of the position she was in. Sam’s lanky arm draped over her side with her pulled against Sam’s chest tightly. She places a kiss on his bicep as she begins to struggle out of his grasp to get up for the day. Finally breaking through, she sits on the edge of the bed. Looking over at Dean’s side of the bed doing him a once over to make sure he was alright.

Grabbing a fresh pair of jeans and a clean plain t-shirt from her duffle, she makes her way over to the bathroom to change. Coming out, she grabs Sam’s discarded flannel that laid over the dining table chair and slips on her shoes. Sam’s wallet and the keys to the Impala laid on the same table so she swiftly collects them and makes her way outside.

She liked morning like this, being a morning person like Sam it helped them have little routines even when on the road. She typically woke before either boy did so she was always able to do something nice for them.

Driving towards one of the local diners, she orders breakfast for the three of them to go. Making sure to grab a black coffee for Dean since he never liked starting his mornings with out it. Also ordering a slice of whatever the daily special pie was for said place so Dean could have it later.

Arriving back at the motel, she tries her best to be quiet when unlocking the door with the bags of food in her hands. Upon entering, she notices Sam was no longer in bed, but in the bathroom with the shower running. She sets down the bags and begins to grabs plates from the make-shift kitchen. With her back turned to the bathroom door, she begins to make the boys their plate. Just as she places the plates on the table a warm arm wraps around her waist and she feels a kiss on the side of her head.

“Good morning,” Sam’s gruff morning voice says above her.

Turning around and smiles up at him.

“Good shower?” She asks, earning a soft ‘mhm’ from Sam.

Sam pulls her in a quick hug before taking a look at the table.

“Looks good,” he says sitting down preparing to eat.

She grabs the warm coffee for Dean and makes her way over to his bed. Before she could even open her mouth to awake him, Dean’s hand shot out from his blanket making a grabbing motion.

“Here you go you big baby,” she laughs. Handing the coffee over before making her way back over to join Sam.

Dean join them at the table shortly after. Smiling down at his plate lined with pancakes and bacon. She lets out a small laugh as he begins to stuff his face, smiling up at her.

“Good?” She asks in between bites and Dean nods exaggeratedly.

“Extremely, thanks sweetheart.” Dean says with a mouth full.

“There’s pie in the fridge,” she mentions causally watching as Dean’s eyes light up.

“It’s apple.” She mentions, Dean groans in delight.

“God Sam, you picked a good one.” Dean says waving his fork towards his brother.

Sam laughs echoes the room making her smile between bites.

They make casual small talk about the current case they’re working on as they finish up breakfast. More and more it sounds like a run of the mill vengeful ghost. Dean finishes his food and makes his way towards the shower. Leaving her and Sam to clean up.

They begin to tag-team the dishes. Sam washing down with her drying next to him. She stands there with a deep smile forming on her face, thinking about how lucky she is to have found the brothers, and Sam takes note of the forming smile.

“What’s on your mind?” Sam questions as he continues away at his task.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” she replies.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asks, turning to face her as he finishes the final utensil, place it on her pile.

“Mhm,” she responds, taking in a quick breath.

“Just a year ago, I was hunting on my own, getting myself in a lot of trouble. One call from Bobby and here you are in my life. I couldn’t ask for anything different,” she says, grabbing the same utensil Sam had placed on her pile a moment ago.

Finally finished with the morning chore, she places everything back in their respective drawer or cabinet and faces him. Arms crossing against her chest she looks up at her lover. Doing a quick once-over of his features. A blush forms on her cheeks as Sam sheepishly rubs the back of his neck at her roaming eyes.

Their eyes meet each other. Sam grabs her elbow as he pulls her close. She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up to steal a kiss. Sam’s hands rest on the dips of her hips, holding her steady. But, was rudely interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Dean enters the room already dressed in his FBI suit.

“Well, come on you two, we have victims to interview.” Dean retorts, grabbing his tie from his duffle.

She groans, looking back at Sam with a shy smile. Sam gives her hips a squeeze and breaks away from their embrace. He grabs his suit and makes his way to bathroom while Dean makes his way outside to the Impala leaving her “alone” in the room.

She shakes her head and begins to make her way back towards the shared bed. Grabbing her pencil skirt and blouse from her bag. Incredibly grateful to have Sam in her life.

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader fluff

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years

Text

Alone || Simon “Ghost” Riley ||

A/n: Takes place during the mission Alone, though Ghost took a bullet for you, so you decide to patch him up where both of your feelings slip out.

Prompts Used:

“come on… wake up. please… please wake up”

“ hey, hey… look at me, okay? you gotta get up now. you think you might be able to walk? ‘cause they sent for back-up, and if they find us… we cannot let them find us. understand?”

“i’ll get blood on your shirt…”

[ BANDAGE ]:the sender sits down across from the receiver and begins to bandage their wounds.

" don't you touch her”

" i love you. i... i know this isn't the best time or place but... i do. i love you. "

It had all happened so fast, the gun in your face was something you weren’t expecting from someone who you were working with, someone you tursted.

“Step forward Y/n.”

You tried not to flinch from Graves voice though you were suddenly pulled back, Ghost broad back blocking your view. "don't you touch her” the man snarled.

“You do not want to do this, hand the medic over Ghost.”

Then the situation got worse, Alejandro got captured. You were pushed to the ground as Ghost started to take men out then the next thing you knew you were being carried off.

You were panting from how fast you ran though it finally dawned on you that Ghost was the one by your side. Panicking you watched as the man start to slump forward, you did your best to steady him against the wall of one of the buildings. “Shit! Ghost.” Seeing his eyes closed you started to rationalize what to do. Hand shaking, you slowly reached up pulling his mask off. You did your best to fight the warmth creeping up your face not expecting the man to be so handsome.

“Don’t think about that! He needs you.” Placing your fingers against his neck you felt relief flood through you feeling a pulse. “Thank god.”

Standing up, you glanced around spotting a Military van a few feet away. Once you were sure no one was near by you slowly crept towards the van. Luck being on your side when you found a medic bag. Taking a breath to calm yourself you snatched the bag rushing off to the unconscious man. Kneeling down in front of him, you started to slowly peel off the vest he wore. Blinking back the tears you started to patch the bullet wound, the bullet he took for you. Sniffling you wiped his blood off of your hands. “come on… wake up. please… please wake up”

Hearing a groan, you sat up wanting to hug the man but refrained from doing so. “Ghost?”

“Shit…Y/n.You’re alive? Where the hell.” Placing his hands on his cheek he was surprised not to feel his mask.

“I’m sorry, I had to take it off. I had to make sure you were alive.”

Simon tensed, part of him wanted to yell at you, scream at you asking why you would do such a thing. But then he remembered Graves pointing a gun at you, that he wanted you for something. He hated that feeling, that gut wrenching feeling about the thought of losing you. How could he blame you when you save his life. “It’s fine Y/n. You don’t have to cry on me. Not when you did what you had to do.”

Watching him, you frowned seeing how he was struggling to stand. “hey, hey… look at me, okay? you gotta get up now. you think you might be able to walk? ‘cause they sent for back-up, and if they find us… we cannot let them find us. understand?” The cars were everywhere meaning they were looking for you, for Ghost, for Soap. God you hoped he made it out alive.

Snorting, Simon grabbed an adrenaline shot. Stabbing it in his chest, he shivered quickly standing up. “i’ll get blood on your shirt…”

“I’m more worried about you dying than the blood on my shirt. Now let’s get going alright.”

“Ya! Ya, we gotta head to the church.” Ghost did his best not to slur though it was becoming a problem.

•+•

It felt like hours getting to the church but you were happy knowing that Soap was alive and Ghost seemed to be doing better which helped your anxiety. Nibbling your lip you stepped closer to the man, his eyes were trained on the window for any signs of Soap.

“I….I never thanked you. For saving me Simon…Ghost.” You quickly corrected yourself though you were surprised to hear the man chuckle.

“You do not need to thank me Y/n. I had my reasons, I wasn’t about it let that bastard get his hands on someone I.” Stopping himself, he could feel your gaze on his back.

“Someone you what?”

Sighing, Simon grabbed his mask then lifted it off his face. If he was going to confess his feelings to you he at least wanted to look you in the eyes and do it, to not be Ghost for once. “Y/n.” Working his jaw he did his best to get the words out, he never experienced anything like this so he was unsure on how to act. "I love you. i... i know this isn't the best time or place but... i do. i love you.”

Blinking, you wanted to make sure that you heard him right. You thought you were hearing things, you thought they this had to be a dream. Simon Riley…Ghost. One of the best agents must admitted that he loved you.

“You…love me?”

“Yes! I rather not repeat myself and I -.” Though he was quickly cut off from your lips pressing against his own.

Breaking the kiss, you grabbed his hand still careful, not wanting to hurt him. “I love you to Simon.”

Sighing, a small smile formed on his face as he pressed his head against your own. “Stay close to my side. Ya….I don’t want to lose ya.”

Smiling, you opened your mouth to reply until you heard Soaps voice on the line. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. We need to play Graves a little visit.”

Letting out a playful growl, Simon pulled you in for another kiss then placed his mask back on his face. “I do love it when you get angry.”

Tagging:

@redpool

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thegainingdesk · 5 months

Text

Borrowed

“Fuck!” I barked as hot coffee spilled down my front. This always seemed to happen when I wore a nice shirt, always when I had to meet clients, always on a fucking Tuesday. God I hated Tuesdays.

Fifteen minutes of frantic dabbing with wet paper towels later I sat slumped in my chair. Not only had I not managed to shift the coffee stain, but now I'd also made my shirt wet enough that my thick body hair was plainly visible through it.

“Maybe someone has a jumper?” Owen asked.

Sandra shook her head sadly. “We asked around,” she said. “The weather's been so lovely, not sure the last time anyone brought a jumper in. There's a couple in lost and found but…” She trailed off and lifted up two jumpers - one lurid pink with three kittens covered in glitter, the other a red Christmas jumper implying Santa was about to do unspeakable things to a reindeer.

“Not really the thing for a client meeting,” Owen said, making a small sucking noise through his teeth.

“Someone else is going to have to do it,” I said. “It's in ten minutes, there's no way my shirt will be dry in time.”

“I always keep a spare shirt or two in the stationery cupboard,” Graham said, appearing round the corner eating a donut. “It'll be a bit big for you though!” he added, slapping the firm ball gut that took up his torso.

I bit my lip. On one hand, I'd look absolutely ridiculous, my lanky frame swallowed up by a shirt intended for a man surely a hundred pounds or more heavier than me. On the other hand, I'd look more presentable than I currently did. And besides, it would be kind of hot to have real, tangible evidence of just how much bigger Graham was than me - okay, so forty-five year old obese dads aren't exactly everyone's fantasies, I can admit that, but for me, Graham was my dream man.

“Thanks Graham,” I said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

A minute later I was stood in our stationery cupboard holding up a piece of fabric I could use as a light blanket. The tag said 2XL and I thought about how Graham filled his shirts - gut straining gently at the seams, the hem riding up by the end of most days to reveal a wedge of hairy fat. There were some trousers as well, neatly folded beneath the shirt. I held the pair up to my waist and boggled at how much wider they were. I imagined filling up clothes so big and felt myself grow hard.

I peeled off my own wet, stained, size small shirt and hung it on the door handle to dry a little. I slipped my arms in Graham's shirt and buttoned up the front. The shirt swallowed me. The hem hung down below my crotch, the shoulder seam lined up somewhere along my upper arm, so that the cuff hung down past my thumb, the whole thing billowed around me. I pinched the fabric and held it out in front of me - it seemed like there was a foot of space left in every direction.

My cock throbbed. I checked the door was locked, then checked the time. I had a few minutes, and Sandra was already on delaying duty. I bunched the shirt up, unbuttoned my fly and pulled my aching cock out. I stroked rapidly, keen to finish in a timely fashion. I tried to imagine myself filling the shirt. How much bigger would I be? Would I be shaped like Graham, with a firm gut, or would I be softer, flabbier, wider? My left hand raked over my trim stomach and my breath hitched as I moved it away, out to where I'd held the shirt just a moment ago. I bit my lip to stop myself yelling out as I shot cum across the floor of the cupboard, and as it dribbled over my fist.

Hit by post-wank clarity, I immediately felt like an idiot. How did I think I was going to clean this up? I frantically grabbed my wet shirt and did my best to wipe up the thick cum on my right hand and cock, struggling a bit to get it out of my pubes and stopping it getting on my trousers or Graham’s shirt. Then I knelt down and wiped up the mess on the floor.

A knock on the door. “Just coming now!” I choked.

“The clients are here,” came Graham's voice through the door. “That shirt alright?”

I looked down at myself. I looked fucking ridiculous, like a child wearing his dad's suit for a play. “Yeah Graham, cheers. It's perfect.”

I wadded up my coffee and cum covered shirt and threw it into a corner that I hoped no-one would look in over the day. I tucked the excess fabric into the waistband and rolled up the sleeves, hoping the overall effect was “loose and casual” rather than “four sizes too big”.

I panted softly as I squelched my way into the office. When I woke up, the weather was blissful - bright sunshine, a little warm maybe, but with a light breeze to make it bearable, the sky clear apart from a couple of distant picturesque fluffy clouds completing the picture. Of course, once I was halfway to work, the heavens abruptly opened, necessitating me to run from my tube stop through torrential rain to my office.

My body wasn't exactly built for running these days. That day with Graham's shirt had flicked a switch somewhere deep in my brain, and since then my appetite and waistline had expanded in rapid conjunction. Now my soaking shirt clung to a round, soft gut, plump tits and wide love handles, and my damp trousers made my wide, plush thighs and fat pad uncomfortable.

I was met with noises of sympathy from my much more weather-prepared co-workers as I dripped across the floor, but couldn't fail to notice the whispers and pointing as soon as I passed. My weight gain wasn't exactly fresh office gossip at this point, but I'm sure it being highlighted by clinging wet clothes didn't exactly help matters. I sighed as I sat at my desk, the cold clothes against my skin making me shiver.

A shadow fell over me and I saw Graham stood meekly above me. “I've got some spare clothes,” he said quietly, looking around to see if anyone was listening. “I'm not sure if you, you know, if they'll fit or anything, but you're welcome to them if you like.”

I saw his eyes flick to my swollen gut and my heart jumped as I realised that Graham - Graham! The office fat guy! - wasn't sure who was bigger out of the two of us. I shuffled my legs slightly to adjust my hardening cock, but knew that my overhang would largely keep my arousal hidden.

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks Graham, that would be great,” I thanked him. “I've actually borrowed your shirt before, you know,” I told him. “You wanting to keep it a secret all of a sudden?”

Graham grew more flustered. “It's not that,” he said. “I'm happy for people to borrow it whenever, you know. I figure it's best if there's a spare shirt around and at least if it fits the fattest- I mean, that is, if it fits me it… well.” He cleared his throat and looked around again. He lowered his voice further “I wasn't sure if you'd be happy to, you know, have people know you were borrowing my clothes. You know since…” He gestured feebly towards me and I felt my heart pump harder.

“That's fine Graham,” I said. “Thank you again.”

“If you ever want to talk to someone,” he said, not moving yet. “I get it, you know, the uh,” he shifted his feet nervously, “weight thing. I was probably about your age when I started to put on a bit, back when Vanessa had the twins and well… anyway. I just wanted to say that I know how it feels, and if you ever wanted to talk to someone who understands…”

“Thanks Graham,” I said. “For the shirt and the offer.” I stood up so that we were almost belly to belly. “I best go get changed.” Graham grinned and gave a small wave as he walked away.

I looked at the shirt on the hanger in front of me. Was I really the same size as Graham now? I'd certainly fantasized about the idea often enough, and the shirt in front of me looked… well, it looked normal. I thought back to that day a couple of years before when I was shocked at the size of Graham's clothes; now they looked the exact same as all the others I had hanging in my wardrobe at home.

I pulled off my damp clothes and put on the shirt. It fit perfectly - the collar wasn't too tight, the shoulder seams hit the right place, it tucked perfectly into my waistline. A little snug, perhaps, around my gut, but then most clothes did these days. The buttons were definitely straining more than they did around Graham's belly, weren't they? He'd have surely bought the next size up by now if this was how his shirts fit everyday.

I sucked in as I bent down to pick up the trousers, keen not to stress the buttons anymore and stood back up with a loud grunt. Advanced acrobatics like “bending over” and “standing back up” were getting a little strenuous these days. I looked in the waistband and froze. It was a 42 inch waist. I'd gotten rid of my last pair of 42s months ago, and in the meantime my 44s were starting to pinch painfully when I was particularly bloated. I looked back at my soaked trousers and imagined drying in them. These would have to do - maybe just for the morning until my clothes dried.

I had to suck in as I struggled to button the trousers, and immediately felt the familiar vice grip of too small clothes as I let my gut hang out fully. The fabric confined my legs and hips, making my torso explode out of the top like bread dough, and I could imagine the angry red marks I'd see once I took them off. The legs felt like skinny-fit jeans, all the way down to my calves. Surely Graham couldn't wear these? I didn't think I'd be able to sit down all day.

“Those forty-twos aren't too big, are they?” Graham asked when I gingerly came out the stationery cupboard, feeling like an overstuffed sausage casing come to life. “I only really use them if I'm feeling a bit bloated,” he explained.

I shook my head and gave a strained smile. “They'll stay up with a belt,” I said. I saw Graham's eyes flick down to the full-to-bursting fabric with no belt in sight.

He gave a thin smile. “Well then,” he said. “Glad I could help. You know where they are if you ever need them again.”

I was back in my own trousers by lunch, after promising Graham to buy him a new pair since I'd ripped the seat on his.

I licked the sugar and jam off my fingers as I walked up to Graham.

“Hey man,” I said, before stifling a belch. “I don't suppose I could borrow that spare shirt you keep?” I gestured down at my shirt, where jam from my donuts sat next to grease from that morning's sausage roll on the shelf of my gut. “Breakfast got a bit messy this morning.”

Graham’s eyes widened a touch and I could see him perform a series of mental calculations. “I've lost a little weight since the last time you borrowed a shirt,” he said after a moment. “I'm down to just plain old extra large these days.”

“It looked like the same shirt when I got some staples the other day,” I told him. “Maybe you just forgot to swap it out.”

He smiled weakly. “Ah, yeah, that's right,” he conceded. “Must not have brought in one of my new ones yet.” His eyes flicked down to the farthest extent of my gut, where its swell strained the buttons of my 4XL. “So you umm, I mean that is, if you think, but well.” He desperately reached for a polite way to tell me I was too fat for even the clothes that were too big for him. He lowered his voice. “Weren't you saying a while ago you shop at one of those plus-size shops these days? I never really went to those, even when I was, well, before I lost some weight.”

I grinned and shrugged. “Worth giving it a go, right buddy?” I slapped the top of my belly. “Us big guys are used to squeezing into places.”

He grimaced at the suggestion our sizes were comparable and gestured towards the cupboard where he kept his spare shirts. “Help yourself,” he mumbled.

I unbuttoned my own shirt and dropped it in a heap on the floor. I picked up Graham's from its hanger and held it out in front of me - did I really used to fit in clothes this small? I grunted as I bent down to pick up the trousers and held that out in front of my waist too - god they were narrow. My own hips were a good half foot wider, even while holding them like this. I'd have liked to have tried them on too, but they were a non-starter, I knew. A shame that I couldn't go all the way with my little game, but oh well.

I put the shirt on, even the shoulders a little too narrow to slip my arms into comfortably, and slowly started buttoning, my fat fingers slow and clumsy. The neck was a complete no go, fat oozing over the collar when I attempted. The buttons over my tits were snug, but broadly doable. The top of my gut - starting to become a real problem. At the very diameter of my soft ball gut the two sides were inches apart. Determined to make a show of myself in front of the office before I left in a few weeks, I sucked in as far as I could and tugged on the shirt hard. After a few moments of struggling, huffing and puffing all the buttons were precariously lodged into their respective holes.

I let my gut out slowly, so as not to tear any seams or send the buttons scattering. Even at the largest I dare let my gut hang out, I was still sucking in a little.

Every inch of fabric was filled with me, inflated to its limit. I could almost hear the cloth creaking. The buttons had huge ovals of hairy, dimpled skin showing between them. The bottom of the shirt hung around my heavy love handles like bread loaves and several inches of my gut hung clearly out the bottom. The waistband of my trousers were hidden beneath cascading fat, and my soft arse hung out at the top.

I grinned as I walked out the cupboard. “Cheers for the shirt Graham,” I called across the office. Disgusted and embarrassed faces turned towards me as they took in the sight of my morbidly obese body forced and squeezed into clothes meant for the merely clinically obese. I began walking towards Graham as I spoke, giving everyone a good view. “I don't think it's really going to work,” I said as I gestured towards my body. “I swear we used to be the same size?” I shrugged. “Ah well, I can cope with a couple of stains for today.”

Graham blushed bright red as I approached him, the only person forced to engage with the spectacle unfolding in front of everyone. “Oh well,” he said, staring resolutely at his computer screen.

A flash of a thought began to nucleate into an idea. Did I dare? I think I did. I made a show of wrinkling my nose a little and then- “ACHOO” - a not quite believable fake sneeze as I let my gut expand to its fullest extent. Two buttons pinged off the and I heard a small rip to my side.

“Oh god!” I feigned humiliation. “I'm so sorry Graham, your shirt! I'll buy you a new one!”

Graham paled. “That's fine,” he insisted. “Didn't fit anymore anyway, destined for the charity shop.”

“No, no,” I replied. I stroked my hand around my gut, feeling the contrast between strained fabric and exposed skin at the fresh tear in the shirt's side. “It's my fault and this spare shirt’s helped me out no end of times.” I pretended to ponder for a moment. “I swear it used to fit…”

My cock was rock hard beneath my gut as I returned to the stationery cupboard to put my own shirt on.

#weight gain #gaining fiction #gainer fiction #gainer story #weight gain story #male weight gain #wg story #weight gain fiction #borrowed #short and sweet #im quite proud to say that this ones semi autobiographical #with some name changes and weights added to #my line manager keeps a spare shirt and quiye happily quite loudly offers it out if needed #he offered it to me but took me to one side quietly explained he thought it might fit me #it actually didnt #i always thought he was so fat - not so much now

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benevolentbones · 3 months

Note

hi!! could i request an elle greenaway x bau!reader fic where elle gets sick (like a bad case of the flu or smth) while the team is away on a case? and like she keeps insisting that she isn’t sick until she finally lets reader take her home and take care of her. tysm!!

stubborn girl | elle greenaway x reader

warnings: none really? gender neutral reader

word count: 0.9k

a/n: i hope this is okay!! first time writing an elle x reader but love her to death<3 feel free to request more characters!!

elle greenaway was as stubborn as they came. you would know, as you had been dating her for just over a year.

you were aware of her habit of never backing down from a case until it was over, never taking the easy way out of things. which you really admired about her at first, but at this stage it was just dumb.

the team was on a case, just a state over from headquarters. everyone had set up in the local police department and were gathered around for a briefing.

“we know the unsub is a male in his late twenties, he’s nervous-“ elle paused before letting out a loud string of sneezes.

you let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat. you had tried to convince her to go home, leave the case to the rest of the team as she clearly wasn’t well, but she wasn’t taking it for an answer.

so here she was, sinuses blocked, killer headache and a temperature.

“elle, you don’t look too good.” reid commented, giving a concerning glance your way. you simply shrugged, giving him a defeated smile.

“spencer’s right elle. you need to go home.” hotch stated, his lips pressed in a hard line.

“no, i’m fine seriously.” she let out a cough, pulling a tissue from her back pocket and wiping her nose.

you locked eyes from gideon who was sitting across from you, you shot him a pleading look and he immediately understood.

“greenaway, you’re off the case. go home and rest up, it’s an order. l/n, you drive her home, make sure she gets in.” gideon stood up, and reached to grab the case file that was in front of elle.

she let out an exasperated sigh, before grabbing her bag and walking out of the room. you mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to the team and followed her out.

elle trudged out of the building, to where you had parked your car. she raked her hand through her brunette locks, her harsh eyes softening when you came to stand in front of her.

she looked upset, and you understood why. it was an intense case, and it was coming to a close. but she had been sick for the last few days and it was just getting worse, so it was best for her to leave it.

“i’m fine, y/n. really.” she huffed, folding her arms over her red shirt.

“mhm whatever you say, baby.” you smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her temple before opening the car door for her.

the drive back to elle’s house wasn’t too bad, after her initial fifteen minutes of complaining she had fallen asleep. her head rested against the passenger car door, her feet tucked up on the seat.

you looked over every so often, to make sure she was doing alright. she looked so peaceful. god you loved that stubborn girl.

you pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park. your eyes flickered over to your girlfriend’s sleeping form. after reaching over to unbuckle her seatbelt, you got out of the car, strolling over to the passenger side.

you swung the door open, scooping the sleeping brunette up in your arms, and shutting the car door with your hip. you often thanked that the physical aspect of your job allowed you to lift her with ease.

you finally reached elle’s bedroom, after struggling to open the front door whilst holding her. you laid her down onto the soft sheets of her bed, pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“mm where am i?” she began to stir, big brown eyes blinking the sleep away.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you up, you’re at home in bed now. you wanna change out of your clothes? i’ll make you some tea.” you smiled sweetly.

although her hair was somewhat dishevelled from her nap in the car, dark rings plagued under her eyes and there was a slick sheen of sweat covering her forehead, you thought she looked beautiful.

one thing you noticed about elle throughout your relationship was, when in public she always wanted to be independent. she didn’t want any help from anyone. but behind closed doors, in the company of just the two of you, oh she loved to be looked after.

she nodded yes, sitting up amongst the plush pillows. you wandered over to her wardrobe, pulling out a pair of pyjama pants and one of your hoodies that she had stolen a few months ago, passing them to her to get changed into.

“i’ll be back in a minute, elle.” you smiled to her, before going back downstairs to make her a drink.

on your way back up to her bedroom, you could hear the faint sound of the tv.

you pushed open her bedroom door to find elle, surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets, big doe eyes transfixed on her tv which was playing an episode of gilmore girls.

“good choice.” you smiled, she scooted over in bed to allow you room to sit beside her. you passed her the ceramic mug and she took it gratefully.

“i’m sorry.” she mumbled, taking a sip of the warm liquid.

“why’s that babe?” you quizzed, leaning back into the soft pillows.

“i know i’m stubborn, im hard work for you. and you do so many nice things for me..” she trailed off.

you reached over to grasp her hand, her tired eyes staring into yours, her eyelids heavy.

“you’re not hard work, i love you just the way you are.” you smiled before leaning in.

she leaned away for a second before speaking. “i don’t want to get you sick.” she pouted.

“i don’t care.” you cupped her cheek, and she leaned in and closed to gap between you, pressing her soft lips against yours.

she pulled back, pressing her forehead against yours.

“i love you too.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #elle greenaway #elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway fluff #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #spencer reid #jason gideon #fluff

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toournextadventure · 1 year

Text

movie night vii

Summary: Ghostface got you, and Tara isn't going to let him go without a fight. No one hurts someone she loves. It's time to end this.

Word Count: 11.4k Warnings: Swearing, Scream typical violence, wound descriptions, murder, grief, mention of Scream V events Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

You weren’t answering your phone.

Tara had been calling you nonstop from the hospital to Gale’s apartment, and you weren’t answering.

“It’s probably fine,” Chad said as he struggled to catch up.

As much as she wanted to believe him, he was wrong. He was so very wrong and Tara couldn’t even string her thoughts into a coherent sentence for long enough to tell him why. Why her heart had tried to jump out of her throat when she saw the text from you that simply said “gf here.” She couldn’t explain the icy fear that froze in her veins.

Why couldn’t she run faster?

Tara’s heart dropped to her stomach the moment she saw those red and blue flashing lights. No no no. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around or answer. Her eyes were glued to Gale. Only Gale. Why was she alone? Where were you?

Gale’s tears and hyperventilating did nothing to ease the lump in her throat as she got closer.

Her eyes surveyed the entire scene before her. There was no ambulance sitting in the street, waiting to take an injured person to the hospital. An injured you. Police were just milling around, twiddling their thumbs until someone told them what to do. The only one who was attempting to help was Detective Bailey, but even he wasn’t doing much.

“Where are they?” Tara asked, finally turning to look at Gale.

She blinked a few times and let out a shaky inhale and exhale.

“Gale,” Tara said again, more forceful, “where are they?”

Her inability to focus or meet Tara’s eyes forced the air out of her lungs. Why couldn’t she look at her? What had happened to you that she didn’t want to admit? That she couldn’t admit? Gale needed to say something and she needed to say something now before Tara lost her mind.

“Gale.”

Everyone turned to face the voice. Alfie was doing an awkward jog over to where they were all standing. Tara studied his face, looking for any indication of what had happened to you. If someone didn’t fill her in soon she was going to combust. Where were you?

“Alfie what-”

“-They’re headed to the hospital,” Alfie interrupted her with his hand held up in a pitiful attempt to keep her calm.

You were headed to the hospital? That meant you were alive, right? Surely they wouldn’t have bothered taking you if you weren’t alive, that wouldn’t make any sense. Oh god, Tara’s mind was running rampant. How bad had it been? Would you be able to recover quickly? What if it was worse than they thought and they couldn’t save you?

“How bad is it?” Sam asked.

Everyone slowly turned to face Gale.

“It’s-” she swallowed harshly, “-it’s bad.”

It was only then that Tara noticed the blood soaking Gale’s clothes. Her shirt, her pants, her hands. Oh god, was it yours? It had to be, Gale seemed untouched. Tara’s hands shook even as she did her best to clench them into fists. That wasn’t enough to stop the unbearable ache of the muscles in her forearms.

He had made you bleed.

She was going to kill him.

“Sam.” Danny was next to appear, instantly going to Sam’s side and checking her over. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Chad asked. Tara had almost forgotten he had come along.

“I’m Y/N’s emergency contact,” he said. “Came as soon as I got the call, but are you okay?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said quickly, “we were at the hospital.”

His hands were all over Sam, and Tara wanted nothing more than for him to leave. She didn’t care about Sam’s little boy toy, and he certainly wasn’t doing them any favours. He needed to leave so they could focus on the real issue at hand. He was nothing more than a liability at that point.

“Good,” your Pop said as he approached; he seemed to be far more relaxed about the situation. At least outwardly. “You’re all here.”

“Don, I didn’t-”

“-It’s okay,” he interrupted Gale quickly, “I know.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before looking at Tara. “You all need to follow Tony to the safe house.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I kill that motherfucker,” she said.

“You’re going to a safe house,” he insisted. Actually, it sounded more like an order, just spoken with a more gentle tone. “No one else is getting hurt, you understand?”

No. No she didn’t understand. How could he be so calm when you were probably dying in the back of an ambulance? You were his child, how could he be so reserved? Surely he had a plan, he had to. She certainly did. She was going to find that bastard and kill him. Nothing drawn out, no, quick and efficient and gruesome.

“Aren’t you going after him?” Tara asked. Your Pop just gave her a sad look. “He tried to kill Y/N.”

“I know what he tried to do,” he said quickly. “I’m making sure it doesn’t happen to any of you.”

“But what about-”

“-you might not understand this just yet, little lady,” your Pop said, quickly shutting Tara up, “but Vitales do not charge in without a plan.”

“So you have a plan?” Tara asked eagerly. Someone’s hand fell onto her shoulder and squeezed gently. Judging by the size, it was Chad.

“I do,” Pop said with a simple nod. He let his finished cigarette fall from his lips before pulling out another one and lifting his lighter. “That plan involves you going to the safe house and waiting.”

Tara groaned and turned away. How could he expect her to just walk away? To hide away while you were dying and the one who tried to kill you was still running free? No, no that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way in hell she was just going to stay in someone else’s safe house. Carpenters didn’t hide.

“Do you understand me, Tara?” Pop asked, his brow raised and that cigarette hanging haphazardly from his lips.

“Yes sir,” she said even as her mind continued to run rampant.

Pop stepped forward and lightly placed a big, callused hand on her cheek. “I promise you, we’ll take care of it.”

His kindness was almost unsettling. How on earth did your family manage to be so kind when she could assume what they did for a living? She wasn’t stupid, she knew you weren’t accountants. It was a horrible lie, and none too convincing either. So how could your father - and your family - be so kind and gentle?

And how could he tell her that she couldn’t go after Ghostface? If anything, she was the professional Ghostface killer. She and Sam were the ones who had killed Richie and Amber. When had your family ever dealt with Ghostface? Sure, you had held your own twice, but clearly the third time was not the charm. They had some nerve to keep her hidden while they took their sweet time.

“Go with Tony,” Pop said, giving the most reassuring pat to Tara’s cheek. “We’ll take it from here.”

With that, Pop leaned forward and gave Gale a kiss on the cheek before guiding her away. She was walking on shaky legs, and if his arm hadn’t been around her waist Tara had no doubt she would have collapsed. What had happened to you that had caused so much mental anguish to her? Tara assumed it was close to how she had been when she discovered Dewey had been killed.

“I want to see Y/N,” Tara said, turning around to finally look at everyone. “I’m not going anywhere until I see them.”

“I know which hospital they’re at,” Danny said quickly.

“I can have Tony meet us there,” Alfie chimed in. “We can go to the safe house when we know they’re okay.”

“Let’s go,” Sam said before Tara had a chance to answer. “It’s too dark to stay outside.”

Everyone mumbled their agreements before starting the walk. Thankfully the hospital wasn’t too many blocks away. Danny had his arm around Sam’s waist, seemingly holding her up, and whispering in her ear nonstop. It would have been cute in any other situation. Not that Tara was sold on him yet, but Sam seemed comfortable and that was the important part.

But she was too busy plotting her revenge to focus on how cute her older sister was being. Tara needed to see you, that was before anything else and it wasn't up for debate. After she was sure you would pull through? Oh it was on, Ghostface had better start praying that she didn't find them. If given half the chance, she would make him regret every moment of his life that led up to the moment he had attacked you.

"They'll be okay," Chad said, pulling Tara out of her bloody and violent imagination. "They're too stubborn to die."

"I thought you hated them," Tara mumbled as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "Why would you care if they were okay?"

"I don't hate them," Chad said quickly, "I just didn't trust them."

"And now?" She asked.

"I mean," he exhaled softly, "they saved Anika and Mindy." He stepped sideways to avoid running into a stranger that refused to move. "And they kept Gale safe."

Yeah you did. You did all of that even though you knew Sam and Chad weren’t your biggest fans. There was nothing any of them could say or do to change the fact that you had put yourself in danger for them not once, not twice, but three times. On your date at her apartment, in your apartment, and just now in Gale’s apartment.

Maybe you just shouldn’t be trusted in apartments, that always seemed to be the location where you got most hurt.

The hospital was cold; it wasn’t the same as when she had initially been there to visit Anika. There had been tension, of course, but everyone had been happy and laughing and having a good time. A feeling of comfort and safety surrounded them and almost made them feel like they could recover from anything.

This was different. Each sound and smell assaulted Tara's senses until her hands started to shake and her palms grew sweaty. Did they have you in a room yet, waiting anxiously for someone you knew to appear? Or were you still unconscious, unaware of anything that had transpired since the attack? Truthfully, Tara didn’t think she liked either answer.

“The hell are you all doin’ here?”

Your sister Mercy looked furious as she practically stormed over to where everyone was standing. Not that Tara could blame her, the entire situation probably had her on edge. And if she was one of the staff having to take care of you? Oh, there would be no need for explanation.

“Listen-”

“-I’m not listenin’ to shit,” she interrupted Alfie. “Pop said you were going to the safe house.”

“Tara wanted to see Y/N,” Sam said quickly. “And then we were heading over.”

“Well you can’t,” Mercy said with a rushed exhale and a shake of her head. The momentary silence settled in Tara’s bones. “They’re still in surgery.”

“Still?” Tara blurted out.

“They only got here about 15 minutes ago, T,” Mercy said, “of course they’re still in there.”

“How bad is it?” Chad asked. His hand fell to Tara’s shoulder again. She knew he was trying his best to comfort her, but it really wasn’t working. If anything, she wanted him to get away; she didn’t want anyone touching her.

Mercy sighed before shifting her weight to her other hip. “Lacerations to the face, and bullet fragments to the shoulder.”

The hospital started to tilt under Tara’s feet while they all continued talking, but she couldn’t hear them. It was like they were speaking underwater. You had been shot? They had gotten your face? How bad was it? Her mouth went dry at the thoughts that ran rampant in her mind.

“Tara.” A familiar hand cupped her jaw. Sam. “You okay?”

No. No she wasn’t okay. How could she be? It was hard enough to deal with Ghostface on his own. It brought back memory after memory of Amber. All those dates, all those spilled secrets, shared kisses. And she had turned out to be nothing more than a fake, a murderer, someone who would’ve traded Tara in for her 5 minutes of fame.

Add onto that the fact that you were laying on some cold operating table, all alone? Because of her?

“Tara?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. Sam’s thumb brushed gently across her cheekbone before she pulled away. “Is there anywhere we can sit and wait?”

“I’ll take you somewhere quiet,” Mercy said softly. Still shocking, coming from someone of your family.

The little room wasn’t too far away from where they had come into the hospital. It seemed private, at least compared to the usual waiting room that was wide open for the rest of the hospital to see. At least there was a door in this one, and a small coffee pot and a basket of snacks over on a table in the corner. Simple, but Tara could appreciate it. It was the most homey space in the unsettling environment.

“I’ll come get you when I know more,” Mercy said before leaving, closing the door with a gentleness that made Tara’s skin crawl.

It felt like hours before Tony came in, slipping through the door like a shadow, clinging to the walls like he wasn’t supposed to be there. He sat down dutifully beside Tara, not too close to encroach on her space but still far too close for comfort. She knew he was only there to make sure she actually went back to the safe house afterwards.

Your family was a bunch of bastards.

“Tara?”

Her eyes flew open, the world seeming hazy before she could blink the sleep away. She didn’t know what time it was, or how long she had been there, but she had been waiting for something. You. She had been waiting for you. Tara pushed herself up from the chair, standing on shaky legs for only a moment before walking mindlessly to the door where Mercy was waiting.

“How are they?” Tara asked before Mercy could even finish shutting the door behind them.

“Restin’,” she said with a subconscious nod.

“But alive?”

“Alive,” she reiterated with a small smile. “But there’s a lot of rehab in their future.”

“Better than the alternative,” Tara sighed, chewing her bottom lip in an attempt to feel something other than immense guilt.

It wasn’t working.

“Tara.” She tried not to flinch when Mercy’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Y/N would want you to be in the safe house.”

“They nearly got killed because of me,” Tara said quietly. “I can’t just let that go.”

“They nearly got killed because of that rat bastard,” Mercy said with a surprising amount of calm in her voice. “Not because of you.”

“But-”

“-do you think they would want you gettin’ yourself killed for this?” She asked. Tara froze. “Because they wouldn’t.”

“I can’t sit by and do nothing,” Tara said.

“You’re not,” Mercy shrugged. “You’re sittin’ safe.” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. “Isn’t that the best kind of revenge? Sittin’ nice and comfy while they get hunted down like the rat they are?”

Well. When she put it that way, maybe it didn’t sound quite so bad. And Tara wouldn’t lie, she was tired. She wanted to feel safe for once, not looking over her shoulder every second of the day because there might be someone following her. It was a miserable existence and she didn’t know how much longer she could do it.

“Okay,” Tara mumbled to herself. When Mercy didn’t answer, she looked up and spoke a bit louder, “Okay.”

“Atta girl,” Mercy said with a toothy grin that was almost a perfect duplicate of yours. “Let’s get you guys somewhere safe.”

Everyone seemed to already have some sort of idea of what was going on when Tara and Mercy got back into the waiting room. Sam was quick to rush over to Tara’s side, checking her over even though they both knew Mercy wouldn’t dare lay a hand on her. It was a habit. It was something Tara was getting tired of being a habit.

“Who all is comin’ with me?” Tony asked.

“I’ll go back to Mindy’s and Anika’s room,” Chad said. “It’s plenty safe up there.”

“You should stay,” Sam told Danny.

“Sam-”

“-Y/N would like a familiar face when they wake up,” she continued. “And you’re not Woodsboro.”

“Neither are they,” Danny said instantly, gesturing with his head to where all of your siblings were huddled up.

Tara and Sam turned their heads slowly to look at them. They were all talking with each other, worry etched onto each of their faces. She knew exactly how they felt; she had felt the same just knowing Sam was in danger back in Woodsboro. But to know that you had actually been hospitalised for it? Was it how Sam had felt when she was attacked last year?

“They’ve been through enough,” Sam said before turning back to face Danny.

“And I haven’t?” Danny asked.

“Never trust the love interest,” she said with a shrug.

Tara could see how much it hurt Sam to say such a thing. But it was the smart move; after all, both of their previous love interests had turned into Ghostface. They didn’t exactly have the best track record. And with you being unconscious and hospitalised, you were out for the count. That just left Danny.

“Sorry, pretty boy,” Tara chimed in. She desperately wanted to take the heat off of Sam, at least as much as she could. “Better luck next time.”

“Tara,” Sam whispered, but didn’t really do anything to actually silence her. She looked back at Danny. “I’ll see you when this is over.”

“Okay,” he said with a soft sigh. “Okay, then I’ll see you soon.”

Tara turned her head when he leaned closer to Sam. She didn’t want to see it, but she could hear them kiss. Sure, she loved Sam, but she didn’t need to hear what all went on with her boy toy. Although she supposed Sam did have to see you half-naked in her living room a few nights ago, so maybe this was the least of her worries.

When Danny walked past her, patting her forcefully on the shoulder, she finally looked back at Sam. There was a resignation on her face that Tara hated to see, even though she would bet she mirrored the look. They were both tired. They were both just far too tired. It was time for a much needed vacation. Maybe somewhere warm.

“You two ready?” Tony asked, finally coming over after confirming he wouldn’t be interrupting something.

“Let’s go,” Sam said with a definitive nod.

“We’ll call when Y/N wakes up,” Alfie said when they passed by, but no one else had anything else to add.

It was practically a silent trip to wherever the safe house was. Almost as soon as Tony led them out of the hospital, he guided them into what looked like an abandoned alley before ushering them into a hidden nook that led to a tunnel. Tara hadn’t explored much of New York, but she knew it wasn’t common knowledge that there were these tunnels all over the city. Right? If it were, everyone would be using them.

There was something utterly fascinating about the instinctual way Tony navigated through the tunnels. If it had been up to Tara, she would’ve gotten lost within 5 minutes tops. But Tony? He seemed to know every turn like the back of his hand. Was that how you had navigated them through when you took them to your family’s house the other day?

Had it really only been a day or so ago? It was hard to believe, given the amount of things that had happened since then. Even harder to believe that it hadn’t been all that long ago since your date at her apartment. Maybe there was something to be said about the fact she was so worried about you after what was, technically, only one date.

You must have hypnotised her or something. It was the only logical explanation.

“Right through here,” Tony said as he stopped in front of what looked like the most useless, broken down door Tara had ever seen.

“You guys are so sketchy,” she mumbled to herself, but she still didn’t waste any time in opening the door and stepping through.

“I know,” he said softly as he closed the door behind the three of them.

It was a rather nice looking room, Tara wouldn’t hesitate to admit. It was only a singular room, but it was rather spacious for the circumstances. There was a set of bunk beds against the far wall, a small living room with a couch and TV, and even a tiny kitchenette in the corner. A bit nicer than most studio apartments in the above ground, Tara noted.

“The kitchen is stocked,” Tony said as he walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and cabinet doors to show the excessive amounts of food. “And thousands of movies downloaded and ready to watch.”

“Legally downloaded?” Sam asked.

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Anyway, you’ve got everything you need to last a few days.”

“How long do you think this will take?” Tara asked. “I don’t like just sitting here.”

“Pop has a plan,” he said. “Shouldn’t take more than two, maybe three days.”

“That’s too long,” Tara said with a shake of her head. “Something else could happen in that time.”

“We’ve never failed a plan yet, Tara,” he said with a kind smile that was almost disturbing. “Don’t plan on starting now.”

“Just let them do it,” Sam whispered even as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“We’re professionals,” Tony said, now his smile turning a little too eager. A little too sadistic.

“And someone is watching Y/N?” Tara asked.

There was no doubt in her mind that you would still be a target. Even though Ghostface had attacked everyone in your apartment, you were the one coming out with nearly all the injuries. She wouldn’t dismiss Anika and Mindy’s injuries, but you seemed to be the one that was targeted. If you were left alone in that hospital, he could get to you in an instant.

Oh god.

“Mercy and Joel are up there,” Tony said quickly. “They won’t even be able to think without someone watching.”

It wasn’t enough. Tara trusted your family, sure, but two people? It wasn’t enough, even if it was your family. You were all more than trained for the situation, she knew it, but it wasn’t enough. Ghostface was smart; too smart. He could probably outsmart your entire family with barely a second thought.

But she supposed it was good enough, so she nodded at Tony once before looking around. She needed a distraction.

“Ma will be down first thing in the morning with some breakfast,” he said before backing away to the singular door that didn’t look quite so broken from this side. “If there’s any news, she’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Sam said. Thankfully. Because Tara couldn’t get herself to say anything in return.

Tony bid his goodbye before leaving, and Tara was finally left alone with her thoughts. She knew Sam wanted to talk with her; they were rarely alone anymore and she was far too nosey to just let Tara think without interruption. But she didn’t have the energy anymore. Not for that night.

“Want one of the beds?” Sam asked when Tara still hadn’t moved. “Or the couch?”

“Couch works,” Tara said softly with a subconscious nod of her head.

“Come on,” Sam said just as softly as she reached over to grab Tara’s hand and lead her to the couch.

Tara let herself fall back while Sam moved around the makeshift living room, looking for… something. She didn’t really know and, quite frankly, didn’t really care. After all, what was there to care about? Someone else had gotten hurt, and someone else was taking care of it. All she had to do was sit there, behave, and wait for the situation to resolve itself.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She wondered if you were okay. Maybe you had woken up already and were laying there with your family. They would surely take care of you, right? Of course they would, they were your family and they loved you. She wondered if you would text her, let her know you were okay. Maybe say something ridiculous just to ease the tension.

The TV flickered on and Sam nudged Tara aside with her knee before also falling to the couch. Without even an ounce of hesitation, Tara leaned over until she could lay her head in Sam’s lap. It didn’t take long before she felt Sam’s fingers running through her hair, scratching her scalp as she flipped through movies.

“You care about them,” Sam said slowly. Softly. Gently.

Yes I do.

“I just don’t like people getting hurt because of me,” Tara answered with a shrug.

“We both know that’s not all it is,” Sam continued. Her fingers never stopped scratching Tara’s head even as she finally decided on a movie.

The Godfather. How appropriate.

“I just…”

Tara let her voice trail off into nothing. She just what? Even she didn’t know how she felt about you. Annoyance was certainly one of those feelings, but there was something more. It was so difficult to tell if it was just a fascination, maybe even an infatuation. But she didn’t trust herself to “like” anyone again. Not after Amber. You were a distraction from the pain and nothing else.

All those repressed feelings started to bubble up at just the mere thought of Amber again. Feelings of guilt because she had no idea of Amber’s double life. No idea that she would have even thought about prolonging the effects of Stab on Woodsboro. Then there was the overwhelming anger. Anger because how dare she try to use her and Sam as pawns in her game? How dare she use Tara and throw her away like she was nothing?

“They’re not Amber,” Sam said, almost as if she could read Tara’s mind. And maybe she could. Or maybe she could see all the reactions on her face that she wasn’t bothering to hide. “I can tell that much.”

“How?” Tara asked. “I knew Amber for ages and still couldn’t tell.”

“I’ve seen how they look at you,” Sam said with a shrug and quickly looked back up at the TV. “And unlike Amber, they let themselves get attacked three separate times for you.”

“Don’t put it that way,” Tara groaned. She brought her hands up to cover her face.. “It makes me feel bad.”

“All I’m saying,” Sam said quickly, “is they’re different.” Tara finished dragging her hands down her face until she could look at Sam. “And if you like them, then I can tolerate them too.”

“How generous of you,” Tara said.

“I still think they’re stupid enough to get you both killed though,” Sam continued. “And not even in a nefarious way.”

“Think they’d get a piano dropped on them?” Tara asked; she didn’t even bother hiding her little smile.

“Like Wile E. Coyote,” Sam instantly replied. “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

“You’re a dick,” Tara said, finally letting a small laugh slip past her lips.

“It’s late,” Sam said after the laughter died down and the movie was barely audible in the background. “Get some sleep, I’ll keep watch.”

“Wake me if anything happens?” Tara asked.

“Of course,” Sam said with a smile that reminded Tara of her mother back when she was still capable of being a mother. A comforting smile that warmed her from the inside out and instilled a certain safety that no one else could really give her.

No one except you.

“Good night, Sam,” Tara mumbled, turning to lay on her side as she kept her head in Sam’s lap.

“Good night, Tara,” Sam said quietly right before Tara finally let the day settle on her and put her to sleep.

It felt like only moments before Tara felt Sam flinch underneath her. She sat up quickly, turning her head every which way even as her eyes refused to blink away the sleep. What had happened? Sam had flinched, had someone come in? She could hear someone walking around and setting things down, had someone snuck up on them?

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Ma’s voice cut through the haze of sleep. Just Ma. “I hope you don’t mind, I let you sleep in.” Ma is safe. “You both looked so exhausted.”

She finally managed to get the sleep out of her eyes and take in her surroundings once again. Sam was trying to act like she hadn’t been sleeping, even though it was more than clear that she had been. Not that anyone could blame her, it had been a long few days. There was nothing wrong with her getting some sleep.

Ma was still standing in the kitchenette, rummaging around and setting things out. If Tara looked a little closer, she noticed the entire array of food she was warming up and perfecting. Had she brought an entire family’s worth of food just for lunch? Actually, that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. Tara may have only met your Ma once, but she knew a homemaker when she saw one.

“Come over here and eat while it’s hot,” Ma said, “and I’ll fill you in.”

Tara and Sam gave each other a single look before standing up and making their way to the little two-person table. Ma had already made them their plates and set them down before quickly following with coffee and orange juice. It would have been enough to make Tara feel a little guilty if her stomach hadn’t decided at that moment to air its grievances at the lack of food lately.

“Y/N woke up a few hours ago,” Ma said once they had both started eating. Her hip rested against the counter. “Still a bit groggy, but otherwise okay.”

Tara nearly choked on her coffee. You were awake? That was a good sign, right? It meant you were going to make it, at least for now. That was a positive. But how else were you feeling? Mercy had mentioned lacerations to the face. How bad were they? Would you still look the same? Were you going to be okay?

“Any news on Ghostface?” Sam asked, acting as if Tara hadn’t nearly drowned in her own coffee.

“Not yet,” Ma said with a shrug. “But the boys said they’re close.”

“How do they know?” Tara asked, her voice croaky and weak. It was pathetic. Stupid coffee.

“They know,” Ma said without a hint of doubt. “Trust ‘em.”

She didn’t. Not really, at least. It wasn’t personal, but she could be forgiven for not entirely trusting people that she had no proof for. Not that she thought your family were liars, or incapable, or anything else. But she had proven time and time again that she could handle Ghostface and your family hadn’t. It was just the principle of the thing.

Ma didn’t take much longer to fill them in and tell them goodbye. She had mentioned someone else would stop by later that evening to fill them in and bring dinner, but otherwise they had the house - room? - to themselves. And as much as Tara didn’t want to be left alone, she was almost thankful for the peace and quiet.

The rest of the day and evening went off without a hitch. Tara and Sam watched far too many movies that were… not good, and played some of the board games that were left. Monopoly hadn’t gone well and had nearly ended in a brawl before they quickly called it a truce and put it away. No more Monopoly, that was the final decision of the night.

Mitch came by later that night with homemade pizza and little news of the outside world. Mindy and Anika were doing well, nothing new to report aside from the fact Mindy was starting to get stir crazy. Which was pretty accurate for her, the Carpenters wouldn’t deny it. You were also going stir crazy, apparently, and were on the verge of either fighting or flirting with every nurse that came into your room.

Tara wasn’t even upset. She had seen how you flirted with your brothers’ girls; this was on par for you.

Even though Mitch tried to prolong his stay and find something to do, Tara and Sam told him to go home and get some rest. He was sweet, probably one of the outwardly nicest ones of your bunch, but even they could see the exhaustion plain on his face. There was barely enough energy for him to argue once before he conceded and bid them goodnight.

There was no effort to stay up late and watch movies or delay the inevitable. They were tired, they were full, they finally felt like they could slow down and rest. At least Tara did, and she assumed Sam was on the same page considering she could also barely keep her eyes open. The bunk bed stayed unused as they made a small pallet on the floor in front of the still-playing TV and fell asleep.

When Tara awoke the next morning, it was to hushed whispers. She knew Sam’s voice like the back of her hand, but the other voice was still new. Although when Tara sat up and looked into the kitchen, she wasn’t entirely surprised to see Danny sitting across from Sam, his hands over hers like he was trying to comfort her.

“Morning,” Tara said just loud enough to make them both jump. Good. She hoped they felt a little guilty for waking her from the first peaceful night’s sleep in weeks.

“Danny brought breakfast,” Sam said.

“Thought we told you to stay away,” Tara said as she pushed herself to her feet. She was a little unsteady, but quickly recovered and made her way into the kitchen; she supposed he could be forgiven, considering he had brought donuts.

“I was worried,” he said with a shrug. “And if Y/N tries to sneak out one more time, someone is going to strap them to the bed.”

“So they’re doing okay?” Tara asked as she took a donut from the box. Blueberry; your favourite.

Nothing more than a coincidence.

“A little too okay,” he said. “Mercy is on the verge of keeping them sedated until they’re more than, you know, two days healed.”

Tara nodded to herself while she continued to munch on her donut. It was a little too sweet and a little too thick. But she supposed that was probably what you enjoyed so much about them. Did you like sweet things? If so, it didn’t explain why you liked her. She was anything but sweet.

She grabbed the nearest glass of orange juice - probably Sam’s - and walked back over to the couch to sit down while she continued to think. It wasn’t smart for her to let you invade all of her thoughts, not when there was still a killer on the loose. A killer that you hadn’t managed to stop and that most likely had an accomplice. She didn’t have time to sit there and think about your smile or your preferences for donuts.

Wait. Your smile?

Oh god, she hated you.

The longer Danny sat at the table with Sam, the more the atmosphere felt… wrong. Tara couldn’t quite put her finger to it. Nothing was going on, it was actually the most relaxed situation she had been in in months. A year, if she really thought about it. The TV was going, Sam and Danny were acting like lovesick puppies, she had a belly full of food.

She couldn’t put her finger on it.

A creak came from the door, and Tara didn’t even bother looking behind her. After all, why should she? The only ones who could find this place were your family. There was no doubt that no one else would have any idea even of just the tunnels underneath the streets, let alone finding the safe room that, surely, couldn’t have been the only one.

Wait. That wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t just your family…

“Hello Sam.”

Every cell in Tara’s body froze. Now that. That was what was wrong. She knew that voice. It haunted her every dream, every thought, every waking moment. A voice that reminded her of Amber, of Richie, of being alone and knowing that he was going to win because of course he was, he was a cult classic icon.

Tara looked at the doorway before she could convince her body to stand up. Two Ghostfaces stood in front of the door as it swung shut, far too gently for the situation. Her eyes stayed locked to the two while she maneuvered herself around the couch, using it as a buffer on her way to where Sam and Danny were now standing.

“Lovely to see you here, Tara,” one of the Ghostfaces said. It was almost more terrifying to not know which one was talking.

“How did you get here?” Sam asked. Tara wasn’t looking at her, but felt her arm reach out and grab Tara’s forearm.

It hurt.

“Just like you,” Ghostface said. “We had a guide.”

Flashbacks of Amber ran through Tara’s mind. The room started to look like it was on a boat, rocking back and forth without giving her any chance of staying still. Someone had betrayed her again. How could this keep happening, why couldn’t anyone just let her live?

“The last Ghostface that cornered us didn’t have such a good time,” Sam said. “You might want to reconsider.”

“Do you want to tell her?” Ghostface said. “Or should we?”

What? Who were they talking to? Tell Sam what? Tara’s face pulled into a frown as she looked back and forth between everybody. Two Ghostfaces, one Sam, one Danny. What the hell were they even going on about? Maybe these two weren’t as smart as the other ones. Which Tara could’ve picked up on her own, but she had given them the benefit of the doubt.

Everyone remained silent, staring at each other. It almost felt like the entire room was daring someone to speak up, either to explain or to taunt. If it were up to Sam or Tara, she knew they would have taunted the Ghostfaces into making a stupid decision. All of them tended to have a bit of an ego problem, so it should have been easy enough.

“Fine,” Ghostface said. “We’ll make the first move.”

Tara’s entire body tensed to the point of pain. Her knees locked in place and she knew even if she wanted to, she couldn’t have moved. If they were going to come at her, she wouldn’t be able to get away fast enough. That old ache in her thigh came back as the image of Amber snapping her leg flashed behind her eyes.

Both Ghostfaces lifted their hands and Tara only thought of you. Of you laying in that hospital bed, completely unaware of the fact that you wouldn’t be getting a second date. There was nothing in the room to keep Tara safe, and she knew she couldn’t overpower the both of them. Not at once. She couldn’t even let you know.

But they didn’t reach for weapons like Tara had thought they would. No, they just reached up and grabbed their masks, pushing them back over their head until the hoods fell off and she could see their faces. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Hey Tara,” Ethan said with a smile and a friendly wiggle of his fingers.

“You’re Tara?” The other guy asked in a posh accent that reminded Tara of someone with money. She didn’t recognise him at all. “Y/N never shut up about you.”

He knew you?

“Ethan?” Sam asked. Tara still couldn’t bring herself to look away from the Ghostfaces.

“It’s not really what it looks like,” he said, his smile never leaving.

“It’s not?” Tara asked. “Because it looks like you’re the one who’s been hunting us.”

“Not you,” the other guy said before Ethan even had a chance to open his mouth. “Notice you never got hurt?”

“I don’t even know you,” Sam said with a shake of her head.

“Oh, right,” he said. He rubbed his gloved palms against his thighs before stepping forward and extending his hand. “I’m Garret.”

“I’m not shaking your hand,” Sam said with a shake of her head.

Tara knew that name…

“Garret as in Y/N’s roommate?” Tara finally asked, looking back at the guy.

“The very same,” he said with his own cheeky grin.

Your roommate. The one you had lived with for years, if your account was anything to go by. He was Ghostface? Surely he had to have known he was going after you, no one was that stupid. It didn’t make any sense. He looked far too happy and…

He had a giant bruise on the right side of his head.

“You’re the one who broke into Y/N’s apartment,” Tara mumbled. “You tried to kill Anika.”

“I didn’t mean to get her that good,” Garret said with a shrug. “She just got in the way.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam said with a shake of her head.

“Then have your boyfriend explain,” Garret said. Ethan quickly hit his arm, but he didn’t even flinch. “It was his idea.”

Tara swallowed harshly. The room started to get fuzzy, and she blinked her eyes rapidly to clear the haze. With the smallest move of her head, she looked at Sam and Danny out of the corner of her eyes. His jaw was clenched tight and he wasn’t even looking at Sam.

But Sam. Oh Sam. She probably had the same look Tara had when they found out Amber was Ghostface.

“What?” Sam asked softly.

“Now, just listen-”

“-Better explain faster than that,” Tara interrupted Danny. “Before I pull a Ghostface.”

“No one is after you,” Danny said in a soft voice that was enough to make Tara cringe.

“Then who?” Sam asked. She stepped back, holding her arm out so she could feel where Tara was and stopped when she was directly in front. Tara reached out to hold her hand, and Sam instantly squeezed it. “What’s going on?”

“Some idiots started the rumour that you were the killer,” Danny said. “After I met you, I knew they were wrong.”

Tara huffed. Was he really going to play Romeo? He better not be, she knew he wasn’t entirely stupid. At least he didn’t seem to be. On the other side of the room, Ethan and Garret stepped closer. If they took one more step, she was going to start swinging.

“If I could take the suspicion off of you, then you could be free again,” he continued. “Ghostface wouldn’t follow you anymore.”

“Did you tell them to hurt Anika?” Tara asked. “Or Mindy?”

“Of course not,” he said with a shake of his head.

“How about Y/N?” Tara asked.

Danny exhaled through his nose and looked over at Ethan and Garret. It’s not a no, she thought to herself. None of them were so much as making a noise, just standing there and communicating silently. About what, she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But it didn’t matter. It was confirmation enough. He had either ordered it, or allowed them to try and kill you. Someone that he was supposed to be close with, someone that trusted him. Amber’s soft smile flashed in Tara’s mind’s eye; she quickly shook her head to rid herself of the memory.

“They’re at the most risk so,” Danny sighed, “they got to choose the target.”

Ethan twirled the knife between his fingers. “Think of it as payback for all the shit they gave me over the past year.”

“Bullying excuses murder?” Sam asked. “That makes sense.” She shrugged, but the roll of her eyes gave away her real opinion.

“And it frees you up, Tara,” he continued with a dreamy sigh and a boyish smile. “Wanna go on a date after this?”

“I’ll cut your dick off,” Tara said without an ounce of hesitation or remorse.

His smile slowly fell back into a thin line. There was no way he genuinely thought she would agree to go on a date after he tried to kill you. It didn’t matter if she had admitted how much she liked you, there was no way he was that stupid. Right?

"I told you," Garret said as he turned his head to look at Ethan. The side of his head looked like it needed stitches. "You have to finish Y/N off before asking her out."

"And what's your bullshit excuse?" Tara asked when it was clear Sam was too busy looking at Danny and zoning out. "You blaming it on some sick infatuation too?"

"Of course not," Garret said with his pretty rich-boy smile. "I simply thought it sounded fun."

That. That right there was almost more terrifying than any other motive Tara had heard. He had decided on killing his roommate for fun? She could hear the blood rushing through her ears, steadily increasing until it was practically deafening.

"Sam," Danny said softly, "everything is already in play." Tara turned to frown at him even as Sam stepped closer to her. "Once the boys finish taking care of Y/N, the police will arrest a decoy and you'll both be free."

Tara squeezed Sam's hand. They were going after you again? She had to warn you. She had to text you, or call your Ma, or Tony, or something, anyone that could get to you and keep you safe. Too many people had died because of her already, she refused to let you join the list.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tara saw something drop to the floor behind Ethan and Garret. Something heavy that continued to move even after landing. No one else seemed to notice it, as Sam and Danny were still talking to each other.

The thing stood up behind Ethan and Garret, and Tara could finally get a decent look. It was a person, in an oversized jacket with the hood pulled over their head. Some kind of half-mask covered their face almost completely, save for the eyes that were shadowed by the hood. Their left arm hung dead at their side as they slowly walked closer.

Surely it wasn't another Ghostface, right? There were already three, technically. Why the hell would there be four? Were they not smart enough to follow the script? There were supposed to be two Ghostfaces, with the exception of Roman. And so far, no one had hunted Ghostface before. Although if Tara was being honest with herself, she would take up that mantle if ever given the chance.

She opened her mouth to say something, ask who their fourth party member was. But the person quickly lifted a gloved hand to their face, holding their finger over where she assumed their mouth was. Hush. Tara knew that one. And when she saw the knife gleaming in their hand, she quickly shut her mouth and nodded once.

The figure twirled the knife once. Tara barely even had time to breathe before the tip of the blade sliced its way through the back of Garret's head, extruding from his open mouth that was now no longer smiling. Someone screamed, but Tara just watched, frozen, as blood poured from the knife.

“Holy shit,” Ethan said.

He was soon interrupted by the sound of Garret choking on his own blood.

There was a wet, sickening sound as the knife pulled back. His eyes rolled back in his head before he fell to his knees, soon slumping over to the ground. He gagged and choked for a few more seconds, with everyone watching, motionless, before he fell silent. Only the occasional wet gasp broke the silence.

Tara lifted her eyes slowly, and her heart nearly beat out of her chest when she noticed the figure hold her gaze. She couldn’t see their eyes well, but she knew they were looking at her. There were almost no emotions in their eyes at all, nothing to show that they had just killed someone and was still standing in the ever growing pool of their blood.

“That one yours too?” Sam asked. She pulled Tara back into a corner, away from everyone else in the room.

“No,” Danny said. “It’s not.”

He tried to move closer to Sam, but one look from her kept him still. If it weren’t for the situation, Tara would’ve laughed at him. But she was a bit too worried about the new player of this sadistic game. If they weren’t one of Danny’s goons, then who were they? How had they gotten into the room so effortlessly? Did your family have any idea how many people knew the location of their supposedly safe room?

Ethan stepped back, tripping over his own feet on his way to stand next to Danny. Cute, Tara thought with a sneer before looking back at the figure who was still just standing there. What the hell was going on?

“What do we do?” Ethan asked.

Little bitch.

The figure blinked a few times before their eyes widened again. They wiped the knife on their pants leg before then pushing the hood back and away from their face. It was a Ghostface move, except for the shaking of hair that had Tara looking just a little closer-

-she knew that hair.

“I knew they couldn’t keep you down,” Danny said.

You just held his gaze. The half-mask stayed put, covering your face from the bridge of your nose down. There were bruises around your eyes that really made them pop. Not that Tara wanted to see it; she would rather you be safe and healed. Your arm still hung limply at your side. Bullet fragments, she remembered Mercy saying.

“How?” Tara asked quietly. You turned to look at her, and your eyes scrunched up.

“They’re high,” Danny said. “Aren’t you?” The scrunch of your eyes disappeared when you looked at him. “Mercy gave you the Vitale special.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“It’s fine with me,” Ethan said with a shrug and another twirl of his knife. “Means I get to kill you myself.”

You stepped backward until you were near the door while Ethan stalked forward. Tara knew how it was going to go; he was going to attack, you would either live or not, and then they were going to come after her and Sam. Even though they had said they wouldn’t, Tara wasn’t so naive as to believe them. Ghostface always targeted someone who went back to the original.

Amber’s face popped up in Tara’s mind again. She wanted her gone. She didn’t get to come back at the worst time possible while you were about to have to fight off Ethan. Why couldn’t she just leave her alone and let her move on? Tara wasn’t an original, she was just some kid from Woodsboro, she didn’t fit into this movie scheme that just wouldn’t quit.

Tara squeezed Sam’s hand when Ethan stepped closer, lifting the knife above his head. He was going to kill you, and you weren’t even trying to stop him. Why weren’t you trying to stop him? You had fought so hard, why was this any different? She needed you to put up a fight, she couldn’t live if you died-

-you turned the handle on the door and pushed it open before stepping to the side.

Gunshots rang through the small room, and Tara and Sam grabbed each other and fell to the floor. She could feel Sam’s hands covering her ears, and she quickly did the same. The shots were so loud, echoing throughout the room, leaving Tara’s ears ringing. Even when the shots stopped, she could hear them.

She flinched when a hand brushed against her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Sam’s hands were still covering her ears, but she opened her eyes and looked up and met Pop’s eyes. He had the same eye scrunch that you did when he smiled. It was an adorable similarity.

“Come on, sweethearts,” Pop said far too gently. Or maybe it was the fact everything was muffled by Sam’s hands.

Pop grabbed her by both shoulders and helped her up to shaky feet. Directly across from her, Tony was helping Sam stand as well. Pop’s hands didn’t let her go even as she started to look around at the room. Blood was dripping down the walls and spreading under the now three dead bodies laying on the floor.

Sam gasped.

Tara’s head quickly turned to face her, following her line of sight to Danny’s body laying on the floor near the table. It was riddled with holes that Tara assumed came from all of your brothers that were still standing around with guns hanging from their hands.

She put her hand on Sam’s bicep as gently as possible, even though she still flinched in response. But she quickly recovered and covered Tara’s hand with her own, giving her a sad smile before looking at Danny’s body one last time. Tara couldn’t imagine how devastated she must have been.

Two boyfriends, two Ghostfaces.

Sam would definitely need more therapy.

She looked down at the bodies again and grimaced.

Maybe she would need therapy too.

“Are either of you hurt?” Dicky asked from his spot beside you. You were leaning further into his side, your injured arm held close to your body.

“No,” Sam said as she pulled Tara into her own side. As much as she wanted to protest, Tara eagerly allowed it.

“Then let’s get everyone out of here,” Joel said. “We can talk back at the hospital.”

Pop and Tony led both Carpenters out of the room. Tara looked back to see Dicky wrap his arm around your waist, and Alfie was right behind you. You looked utterly exhausted and leaned heavily into Dicky’s side. She hoped you were okay. You were still wounded, obviously, but she hoped you were okay.

Tara’s mind was running rampant the entire trip back to the hospital. What had Danny meant, you were high? What was the Vitale special? She didn’t know very much about your family’s business, but that indicated drugs. There was no way you had managed to hide drug use from her. Right? No, there was no way. You were a bit eccentric, but clearly so was the rest of your family. It wasn’t possible.

That led to Tara’s next thought; how was Sam going to feel about everything? About you, the possibility of drugs, the fact that you had gotten your family to kill her boyfriend? Sure, Sam had killed her first one, but this one? This one truthfully hadn’t even tried to kill her. It was some bullshit Romeo excuse, but at least it was different. Was Sam going to hate you for everything?

Her mind wouldn’t shut up the entire walk, and even when they all got settled back in your room and Mercy started hooking you up again, she couldn’t silence the thoughts. She did her best to listen to what Mercy was berating everyone for, but nothing was making sense. It was like listening to the parents from all those Peanuts cartoons back in the day.

She did her best not to gasp when Mercy removed the mask to show the bloody bandages covering the bottom half of your face. When she was finally done, and you were hooked up to whatever you were supposed to be hooked up to, everyone finally sat down.

“We can explain,” Mitch said after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“Go ahead,” Tara said with a shrug. “I’ll accept anything at this point.”

“Danny wasn’t Y/N’s emergency contact,” Martha said from her spot at the long table in the room. “And none of us called him.” She shrugged. “I bugged his phone when he was in here.”

Tara had forgotten Martha was your tech guru. She looked over at you to see your reaction to the whole thing. Your eyes were open, but you were just staring at the spot right above the door. From what little you had told Danny, he had been your friend. Someone you had trusted. How did it feel to know he had been more than happy to sacrifice you for the chance at keeping his girl?

"He didn't even hide it in his texts," Alfie said with a shrug.

"Amateur," Martha scoffed.

"They won't be hurting anybody anymore," Pop said quickly before the conversation could take a different turn.

Everyone mumbled their agreements before going silent. It was more uncomfortable than nearly anything else Tara had ever experienced, which was saying a lot. She had been abandoned by both parents, left by her sister, nearly murdered by her girlfriend, killed her own girlfriend, and now had just seen three men get brutally killed. And yet, the silence of your family still trumped everything else.

Thankfully it wasn’t too much longer before everyone started talking again, laughing and joking and acting like a family again. But Tara couldn't help but notice that you were still unmoving, not even looking at whoever was talking. At one point, Ma moved until she was sitting directly beside you, talking with you until you finally nodded your head. She smiled, pressed a kiss to your head, and moved back to her original spot.

It wasn't until you finally fell asleep that everyone quieted down. Most bid their goodbyes, saying they would be back later. The kids should come, your Pop had insisted, and everyone mumbled agreements on their way out. Ma and Pop left the room to bring back some food, and Tara was left alone with Sam.

What was she supposed to talk about now? Did she apologise to Sam for her boyfriend getting killed? She hadn’t exactly done that with Richie, and this was the second time. Tara was no professional, but she knew for a fact there wasn’t some script for how to handle two of your boyfriends being Ghostface.

You shifted on the bed, and both Tara and Sam looked at you quickly. But you settled almost instantly and fell back asleep. She exhaled slowly and looked down at her hands. You were okay. Just sleeping. Yeah, just sleeping.

“We need a vacation,” Sam said, pulling Tara’s thoughts back to the situation at hand.

“Before or after therapy?” Tara asked. From her seat directly beside her, Sam gave her a tired smile.

“Definitely before,” she said with a nod. “Cancun?”

“I can work with that,” Tara said. “Just the two of us?”

“Yup,” Sam answered. She was still looking around the room, not focusing on any one thing. “10 days in Cancun, you and me, no distractions.”

“We can get everybody a t-shirt,” Tara continued.

They both laughed lightly, letting the conversation die down. Maybe talking things over with Sam wouldn’t be too awful. They would still very much need therapy but maybe they could get through it together again. Tara reached over and grabbed Sam’s hand, locking their fingers together.

“You know what I was thinking?” Sam asked once their tired laughter had died down.

Tara hummed in response.

“The next few weeks are going to be so nice,” Sam continued, squeezing Tara’s hand lightly.

“Why?”

“Y/N can’t talk.”

“Sam,” Tara scolded. But even she couldn’t deny that maybe it wouldn’t be such an awful thing.

“Should make it easy though,” Sam continued. “Now you can tell them how you feel without interruption.”

Tara sighed. Seemed Sam wasn’t going to let it go. Didn’t she know there were other things to worry about? Like the three guys they had just seen get shot to hell? Or the fact that they were now apparently part of some crime family with no known weaknesses? There was no way Tara’s admission to you was her top priority at the moment.

“This could have been a lot worse, T,” Sam said, finally turning to look at Tara. “Don’t wait.”

“Thought you hated them,” she said slowly. It was beyond clear that wasn’t the case anymore, but she wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t going to do something reckless until she knew all the facts.

“I do,” Sam said. “They’re the most insufferable person I know.” She smiled. “But I trust them.” Her smile turned into a smirk. “And I know you don’t sleep with just anyone.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Tara groaned.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten,” Sam said even as Tara pulled her hand away and back into her lap. “I may not have seen much, but I’ll never get that out of my head.”

“I’m not having a sex talk with you,” Tara said.

“Were you at least safe?” Sam continued. “Condoms, dental dams, have they been checked?”

“Sam?” Tara said. Sam looked over at her. “Get out.”

“Okay,” Sam said as she held her hands up in surrender. “But you better tell them.”

Tara watched Sam carefully as she stood up and left the room. They both knew they weren’t being serious; at least Tara hoped Sam knew. But she instantly started to regret her decision to kick Sam out when she realised now she was alone with you for the first time since… well, since she had stayed at your family’s house.

And now your eyes were open and you were looking at the ceiling again, seemingly in a daze.

“Hey,” Tara said softly. You blinked slowly before turning your head in her direction.

Obviously, you didn’t say anything.

Tara stood up and stretched as she looked around the room. Danny had said you were annoying everyone, so clearly you were talking to them somehow. Couldn’t be a phone, yours was nowhere to be seen. She looked over every inch of space, seeing nothing that would suffice. Well, seeing nothing until she finally found the small whiteboard at the foot of the bed. With shaky hands, she grabbed it and brought it back to the bed, setting it down on your lap.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. She waited as you slowly grabbed the marker and started writing on the board with messy handwriting.

Better than Ghostface.

Yeah, you were fine.

“Did you hear what Sam and I were talking about?” She asked.

You nodded, and that little crinkle under your eyes came back. She huffed; of course you did. It shouldn’t have been any surprise, you were apparently good at hearing things you weren’t supposed to. Maybe it was just something you were particularly adept at.

You started writing on the board again.

Gale told me the same thing.

Tara’s heartbeat was loud in her ears.

“You first,” she said quickly. Your crinkled eyes disappeared, transforming into a frown. “You’re oldest, you first.”

She heard you exhale harshly through your nose. Please do it, she thought when you still hadn’t moved. If you said it first, then she would know how to go about everything. Because what if you didn’t actually feel the same way? Sure, you had fought Ghostface, but that could be chalked down to survival. What if she was being delusional and you didn’t really like her like that, you only wanted to get laid?

You looked back down at the whiteboard and used the hospital blanket to clear it. With a shaky hand, you started writing again. She tried to follow what you were writing, but when you noticed, you moved the board sideways so she couldn’t see it.

Never mind. She didn’t feel bad for you anymore, you could suffer for all she cared.

When you put the whiteboard back down, it took a moment for her eyes to refocus before she could actually read what you had written. Her heart was so loud in her ears she almost couldn’t read. But when she could, she almost laughed.

I like like you.

She looked up at you. Your eyes sparkled for a second before you looked back down at the board, hastily scribbling something else down.

Not just for sex.

Now at that she did laugh, although it was more of a nervous laugh than anything else. She wouldn’t ever admit it to you, but you had just eased one of her biggest worries. Tara was more than aware that she had used you at that frat party all those months ago, but she had hoped you weren’t just doing the same thing.

Now she knew better.

“We’re not in middle school,” Tara said as she pointed her finger at the first sentence you had written. You rolled your eyes. Her hands felt clammy. “But I like like you too.”

Your head turned so quickly Tara almost thought she heard a pop from your neck. The eye contact was borderline unbearable; it was like you were searching her soul. That clamminess in her hands only got worse, and she pulled them back and rubbed them on her pants. She knew you couldn’t talk, but the silence was drowning her in her own thoughts.

You erased the whiteboard and wrote on it again.

Does this mean I have to be nice to Sam?

“Yes it does,” Tara said without hesitation, all worry from only a second ago now gone. “Chad too.”

You groaned, the first noise she had heard from you since she had seen you again. It was scratchy and almost a little funny sounding.

An idea popped into Tara’s head, and before she could talk herself out of it, she nudged your side gently. You frowned at her for a second before moving over, an almost inaudible groan leaving your lips. Her palms got sweaty again as she climbed into the bed and sat down next to you. It was like you were nothing more than a puppet as she grabbed your free hand and brought it into her lap.

She felt you move and heard the marker against the whiteboard.

You won’t leave?

“I mean,” Tara smiled to herself as she recalled what you had told her in the theatre. “I’ll have to leave to pee at some point.”

You groaned again and threw your head back against the pillow while Tara couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling past her lips. Seemed you could dish it out, but you couldn’t take it so well. But then you squeezed her fingers and turned your head to look at her again.

“Get some sleep,” Tara said softly. “I’ll be here.”

You held her eyes for a moment before you nodded once. Your eyes crinkled, and it left a warmth in Tara’s chest. She held still as you shifted around, scooting down on the bed until you could lean your head against her arm. You left your hand in her lap and it only took a few seconds before you were out again.

Only after she was sure you were asleep did Tara lean down and press a lingering kiss to the top of your head. All the anxiety and fear from the past few days disappeared with each calm, steady breath you took. Ghostface was gone, no one would even know they were gone, and maybe this whole fad could fade away.

With the comforting thought of finally getting some peace, Tara leaned back against the bed and closed her own eyes. Sleep had never come so easily.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

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iheartcake123 · 7 months

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hi i love your fanfictions. can i request a imagine with sweet home sergeant kim. you are a doctor +soldier.you served in the military but your base camp was destroyed.so you joined the crow platoon.since then only seok chan and the others have been your friends.sergeant kim was always cold towards you.one day you had argument with him. please i dont know what should be the argument about.it could be she being careless and getting hurt??and then they had to go for the supplies and when getting the supplies a monster comes and attacks sregeant kim.she then tries to get it off. and then the monster comes for her and she gets hurt.then after the monster died,sergeant kim scolds her for getting herself hurt.she couldnt bear him anymore.she then breaks down about how he was always so cold to her and etc. he went quite and they went back to their camp she went back to her room. she struggles to clean up her wound on the shoulder.sergeant kim was heading to her room to apologize to her.he sees her struggling so he helps her.there is ome sexual tension between them. he broke the silence by saying sorry.then afte that they are sitting so close together they kissed made out.confessed their feelings for each other and fell asleep together.sorry i wrote this much.

hellooo!! tysm :) here’s you’re fic, i changed a couple of bits but tried to stick to the storyline you wanted as best as possible so i hope you like it!

Masterlist

yeong-hu x f!reader for @bilibiliiiiiii

“make sure to keep the wound as clean as you can, okay?” you smiled at the women in front of you before handing her some bandages “take these and change the dressing every two days”

“thank you, you’re always so kind” the lady thanked you before walking away.

with a smile you watched her walk away as your wrapped up for the day. being part of the platoon and being a doctor you split your responsibilities. some days you’d go out on expeditions to find supplies and other days you’d be on doctor duty, helping the civilians.

you wanted to make sure you were doing your part.

after packing up your supplies up and closing the infirmary, you headed to the platoon area. when you got there, most of the men were eating supper or waiting for their shirts to dry.

“oh it’s y/n. come eat with us!” seok-chan gestured for you to come over to where he and some of the other platoon members were eating.

you nodded with a grin before grabbing yourself a bowl of whatever they were serving and went to sit next to seok-chan.

“how’s my favourite military doctor doing?” he gently elbowed your side and you chuckled.

“i am very good. i just can’t wait to go back to my room and sleep later though” you answered dramatically putting your head on seok-chan’ shoulder.

“busy day, huh?” he nudged you slightly and you lifted your head.

“don’t even get me started but anyway enough about me. what did you get up to today? find yourself a girlfriend yet?”

“ahh no way. you know i could never date unless the sarge decides to. that will never happen though”

“that’s right. the sarge is too serious to start dating anyone” seo-jin chimed in.

“please, the sarge will never find someone. he’s too uptight and cold. i mean, he literally doesn’t even talk to me! how rude can someone even-“ you complained but seok-chan suddenly cleared his throat causing you to stop talking.

you twisted your head slightly and saw yeong-hu stood a meter away with his arms crossed looking at you.

“i think you should stop worrying about such trivial matters and focus on doing your appointed jobs miss y/l/n. you’re on washing up duty and there’s a big pile waiting for you to clean” yeong-hu said before walking away.

when he was a safe distance away, you sighed aloud.

“he heard all of it, didn’t he?” you held your head low “god, he didn’t like me much before. i bet now he’s likes me even less”

“it’s not that bad y/n. you know how the sarge is…” seok-chan made an attempt to try and make you feel better but it was not working.

sergeant kim yeong-hu just didn’t like you and you didn’t know why.

the following day, you woke up nice and early. you were going to be going on an expedition with the platoon. after getting your gear you went to the main platoon area. most of the members were still getting themselves ready and you joined jin-ho who was doing his usual tech things.

“i don’t know how you do all this. there’s about a hundred wires” you commented watching jin-ho attach one wire onto another.

“it’s easy once you know what is what” he said and briefly looked at you.

“right..are you thinking of growing your hair out again?”

“not any time soon. it’s easier if it’s just short…” jin-ho answered running a hand over his head “i do like how it looks when it’s longer but-"

he abruptly stopped speaking as his eyes widened slightly. he then cleared his throat and turned his focus back to what he was originally doing.

“if you don’t mind y/n, let’s talk later im busy right now” he said in a serious tone and you awkwardly nodded.

it wasn’t until you got up from your seat next to jin-ho that you realised why he was acting in such a weird way. when you got up and turned on your heel, you saw yeong-hu stood nearby. he had a stern look on his face and spoke once you saw him.

“any luck jin-ho?” yeong-hu said aloud “i hope you’re not getting distracted by certain people”

yeong-hu kept his eyes on you as he looked you up and down as you walked past him. you did your best to hide the fact he was slightly intimidating and went to go sit with some of the other platoon members.

-later-

you made sure to be on your best behaviour when on the expedition to get supplies. you didn’t want to get onto yeong-hu’ bad side.

“let’s split into two groups, that way we can cover more ground. this is a wholesale store so there should be plenty for us to get. seok-chan, seo-jin, jin-ho and y/n come with me to cover the second floor of the building and the rest of you cover the ground floor” yeong-hu ordered and soon enough the group was split into two.

yeong-hu led from the front with seo-jin behind him. you were behind seo-jin and at the back was seok-chan. you all quietly made your way to the second floor, the concrete floors and walls in the staircase area were covered in some thick brown substance and the smell was sickly.

“stay cautious. we don’t know what creature could’ve done this” yeong-hu looked back briefly before continuing forward.

“ah what’s that fucking smell. it’s so bad” seo-jin cursed.

“man up seo-jin, it’s not that bad” seok-chan let out a chuckle and you couldn’t help but giggle slightly.

seo-jun shot you both a quick glare.

“seriously, what monster did all of this though” you breathed out as you all approached the top of the stairs “it’s disgusting”

“focus! we are about to enter the second floor” yeong-hu suddenly snapped and you gulped with a small nod.

you didn’t understand why he was so cold to you. you tried your best not to dwell on it though. you had to focus on the task at hand.

you held your gun close as you followed the others as you all entered the second floor.

yeong-hu and seo-jin covered the right side while you and seok-chan covered the left.

“clear!” you called out as seo-jin did the same.

“let’s all split up. look for any supplies you think we need. keep within ear reach of each other” yeong-hu announced.

“we can’t be sure there’s no monster here so keep your eyes peeled and call out if you need help” seok-chan tapped your shoulder, and you sent him a quick nod as you all then went separate ways.

you went straight to what looked like an area with a bunch of medical supplies.

“bingo!” you smiled to yourself, quickly making sure the area was safe before getting your hand torch out and putting your gun down. you placed the torch on the shelf so that it would illuminate the area as much as possible.

after filling your bag to the brim with different medical supplies, you began to make way to see if maybe there was anything else. you made your way over to a check out counter and began rummaging through the draws underneath, checking to see if maybe there was anything useful. you crouched down and held the torch in your mouth as you needed both hands free. it was practical.

as you continued to rummage through the draws, you heard a scraping sound and your head immediately shot up. you took the torch from your mouth and held it in the direction where you thought you heard the scraping was coming from. you took a deep breath in trying to stop yourself from reacting badly as you noticed a creature that had a human head, a human upper torso but the rest of its body was a centipede body climbing up the wall.

luckily, it hadn’t seen you.

you tactically turned off your torch and stayed crouched as you made your way to try and find the others. you couldn’t exactly radio any of them or call out to them because then it meant the monster would know you were there.

you barely made it a meter or two away before, you heard footsteps approaching. it was yeong-hu. he was walking in the direction of where the creature was.

“stop” you whispered as loud as you could while waving your arms to try and get his attention.

he at first didn’t notice you but when he did, your eyes widened as you realised hanging above him was the creature.

“what are you-” he raised an eyebrow but was cut off at the half centipede creature jumped on his back. yeong-hu fell to the ground and the creature

you immediately got up and rushed to help yeong-hu. you had your knife in hand and pierced it through the creatures chest. it shrieked in pain and then turned to look at you. the head of the creature had large teeth, that resembled fangs and its eyes were pure black. it hissed and lunged towards you.

you felt its full weight on top of you and it held you down as its teeth sunk down on your shoulder. you released an ear piercing scream as pain shot through your body. you didn’t stop trying to push it off of you and soon all you could hear was gunshots and eventually the weight that was once on you disappeared.

“y/n!” you heard yeong-hu’ voice yell as your eyes became heavy.

“sarge..i” you just about managed to say before everything went black.

when you woke up, you were in your room back at the stadium. you couldn’t remember how you had gotten back. you tried to sit up but felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder and remembered the hideous creature that had bitten you. your shoulder was now bandaged up and you were in your pjs.

you noticed on your bedside table that your radio was there so you carefully went to reach for it. you then turned it on and spoke into it.

“hello? is anyone there? seok-chan?” you said into it but no one answered.

maybe they were busy?

with a sigh, you let yourself fall back onto your pillow. you were in a lot of pain. you closed your eyes and tried to see if you could remember what had happened after the creature had bitten you but it was of no use.

after a couple of minutes, you heard your door swing open and you lifted your head. you saw that it was yeong-hu.

it took you by surprise that it was him so you quickly sat up, ignoring the pain you were in. you cleared your throat and smiled politely at him.

“sergeant kim” you greeted but by his facial expression, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood.

what possibly could’ve made him in such a sour mood?

“how careless could you have been?” he suddenly raised his voice causing you to flinch in shock “do you know the position you put yourself in? you can’t just put yourself in harms way! do you understand how it affects the team? i had the situation handled and because you decided to step in. you not only hurt yourself but we had to leave the expedition early!”

you felt tears swell in your eyes. how cold could he be?

you only wanted to save his life. it wasn’t like you planned on getting hurt.

“im sorry sergeant” you voice was quiet. you didn’t want to argue and make things worse.

“sorry doesn’t cut it y/n! you’re a part of the crow platoon. you should know not to be so careless! i’m relieving you from your platoon duties. from now on just focus on providing medical attention to those who need it.” yeong-hu’ voice was harsh.

“you know what? i give up with you sar- to you, i can never do anything right. you’re always to cold and rude towards me! I’ve done everything in power to get you to try to like me and treat me like you do with the other platoon guys but it’s clear that i’ll never get your respect. so you can relieve me of whatever duties you want because i give up! now please get out of my room” you finally snapped, tears were streaming down you eyes now.

you dont know what overcame you but you stood up, ignoring all the pain in your shoulder and began to push yeong-hu out the room.

“get out” you were trying not to yell and eventually he walked out. you slammed the door behind him and broke down some more.

why was he so cold towards you.

the next couple of days, you avoided the platoon members as best as you could. you couldn’t handle facing them, especially yeong-hu. you felt embarrassed about everything that happened. seok-chan tried his best to talk to you and you appreciated it. you just didn’t want to get involved with the platoon, now that yeong-hu had basically banned you.

you got back to your doctor duties the day after your confrontation with yeong-hu. you wanted to keep yourself occupied. at first it was difficult due to your shoulder injury but you soon managed to navigate your way and treat the patients with one hand.

“it sounds like a vitamin deficiency to me, which can happen in these circumstances. take one of these pills everyday for the next two weeks” you told the guy in front of you as you handed him a bottle of vitamin pills “if after two weeks, you still have symptoms then come back and let me know”

the guy you helped quickly thanked you before leaving and you sighed. you were working longer hours in the infirmary now that it was the only thing you would be doing. you checked the time and saw it was quite late so you decided to call it a day.

you closed the infirmary door and put the sign up to say it was closed for the day and went to examine your own shoulder. this was the last thing you needed to do for the day. you replaced the bandage every day, you didn’t want to risk getting any infections but it was a hard job each time and it was never wrapped as tight as it should be.

you threw your shirt off leaving you in just your tank top. you held your breath as you began to peel away the bandages from the wound. after successfully removing it, you then grabbed some sterile water to flush the would out. this proved difficult to do. but you managed.

just as you were about to apply some cotton with some antiseptic solution on it, the door to the infirmary opened and when you looked to see who it was you gulped.

yeong-hu.

once he noticed you he turned on his heel to walk out again. you breathed out a small sigh as you turned your focus back to your shoulder. however, he then paused and turned back towards you, this time walking to you. you were too busy trying to apply the cotton.

you grit your teeth as it burnt ever so slightly and you jumped in shock after realising yeong-hu was now stood beside you.

“let me help” his voice was firm.

“i’ll be fine” you whispered not looking at him.

“y/n let me help” this time you gave in.

you let out a sigh and nodded. you hoisted your body onto the infirmary table and let yeong-hu give a hand. his touch was soft as he gently applied the antiseptic cotton onto your shoulder. his fingers occasionally grazed over parts of your neck and you held your breath as he began to wrap the main bandage over to cover your shoulder completely.

you couldn’t help but to notice yeong-hu’ facial features as he did this. was he always this good looking? his eyes remained focused in your shoulder, you never noticed how soft and round they were. his hands, delicately placing the bandage around your shoulder. you never noticed how large and gentle they were.

your heart was beating fast and you didn’t know why. once he was done putting the bandage on your shoulder. he traced his fingers over the bandage, proud of how neatly he did it. yeong-hu looked up at you and your eyes locked with his for a second. he then stepped back and rested his hands on his hips, clearing his throat.

“thank you” you whispered carefully putting your shirt back on.

“you’re welcome..look, y/n” he began and then let out a sigh “im really sorry for how i treated you. i respect you a lot, really. it’s not an excuse but i have a lot to handle right now and i can’t bare losing anyone else. so when you got hurt i took all my anger out in that moment and i shouldn’t have”

“i appreciate your apology but it doesn’t explain why you’ve always been so cold towards me. I’ve done everything in my power to try and prove myself but it never seems like enough” you felt yourself become emotional.

yeong-hu stepped closer to you, closing the gap that was between the two of you.

“trust me you’re enough. y/n you’re way more than enough” yeong-hu took your hand in his.

you both stared at each other, your heart thumped inside your chest as yeong-hu looked between your eyes and lips. you swallowed hard as yeong-hu then leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

you lifted a hand and placed it on his chest, debating if you were going to push him away but instead you felt yourself leaning into the kiss. yeong-hu’ hands moved slowly down your back to your hips and your one arm moved to wrap loosely around his neck. the position was a bit awkward since you couldn’t move your one arm but that didn’t matter. you both couldn’t get enough of each others lips. the kiss was filled with passion, love and need.

when yeong-hu finally pulled away, you were both slightly out of breath. you couldn’t help but break into a smile as yeong-hu let out a relieved sigh.

“wow” you said aloud, looking at yeong-hu.

he rubbed the back of neck as he then let out a happy chuckle before being serious again.

“y/n, i really like you. i’ve liked you since i met you and i can never get you out of my head. i don’t know if you feel the same but even if you don’t, please give me a chance to put everything right and show you how much i care for you” he put a hand on your leg and gently rubbed circles.

“i like you too yeong-hu. i always have, that’s why i always tried so hard to get you to like me like you did the others” you put your hand atop of his “of course you can have a chance…just don’t blow it”

“i wouldn’t dare”

#kdrama x reader #sweet home #sweet home fic #sweet home imagines #sweet home masterlist #sweet home x reader #sergeant kim #yeong hu fic #yeong hu imagine #kim yeong hu #kdrama imagine #writing #yeong hu x reader

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year

Text

🎃 How do I feel?

Body Swap CW: AMAB!Reader body swap with F!partner, dub-con, overpowering, praise(?) kink

Jennifer bounced excitedly into (Reader's) apartment, buzzing with adrenaline as she broke into her best friend's home. "(Reader)! Doll, where are you?"

(Reader) groaned from his bed, pausing his game and throwing his controller onto his pillow. "Jesus, can't you knock?"

Dyed lilac pigtails swayed wildly as she burst into (Reader's) room. "Why? We have nothing to hide from each other, right?"

With another frustrated mumble the young man rolled his eyes, not ready emotionally for whatever bullshit Jennifer was about to pull. "What do you want?"

Out from her messenger bag Jennifer retrieved a creepy looking leather bound book. "Look what I bought!"

It had a slight smell, making (Reader) scrunch up his nose. "From where? A hobo?"

"eBay."

"Ha!" Every couple of months Jennifer was buying some new 'genuine' spell book or 'cursed object'. She didn't claim to be a Wiccan, but an occultist, who didn't seem to follow any doctrine (Reader) had ever heard of.

"This is the real deal, I can feel it!" She said enthusiastically, just as she did every few months. Opening the book, Jennifer didn't wait for (Reader) to agree to participating in whatever 'spell' or 'curse' she had picked out, chanting from a page she had bookmarked. He sat there patiently, waiting for the inevitable tears for when it didn't work.

Then everything went black.

(Reader) blinked, groggy eyes fuzzy as he came to, standing in his bedroom face to face with himself.

"What the hell?" (Reader) asked. As soon as the words fell from his lips, he froze, because the voice that came out wasn't his, but Jennifer's. Glancing down (Reader) found himself in control of dainty hands with purple nails. "Oh my God.."

"It worked!" Jennifer cheered, making (Reader) cringe hearing his voice squeal out. He watched his body twirl around. "Finally!"

(Reader's) eyes widened as Jennifer opened up her his pants, looking down at his dick while smiling. "Woah, don't do that!"

"I've always wondered what you had going on down here. But, that's not the main goal." It was uncanny, watching himself charge forward. (Reader) felt his own hands grab hold of Jennifer's body, struggling as he realized just how weak she was. He couldn't physically push himself off as Jennifer pulled him into a deep kiss, thrusting his own tongue down into her throat.

(Reader) was thrown onto the bed easily, squirming as his possessed body crawled over him, easily overpowering him. Jennifer had planned for this, wearing a thin shirt with snap buttons and a small skirt without underwear. The shirt was popped open in one swift movement, and Jennifer marveled at her own breasts. "I see these everyday, but it's so different than looking in the mirror." (Reader's) hands traveled across the chest he currently owned, playing with the sensitive nipples.

"Jennifer, why are you doing this?" (Reader) tried not to moan, crushing his thighs together as a strange tingling could be felt down below. It felt good, if (Reader) was being honest, he was just confused as to why.

"Don't you remember me telling you? Back when I first started looking into magic and all that? I always wanted to know what it felt like to fuck myself."

(Reader) vaguely remembered Jennifer ranting about wanting to love herself, but he had tuned her out at the time, only nodding and grunting in agreement when he thought it was appropriate. Now his fully erect cock was being pulled out of his pants above (Reader).

It was strange, and (Reader) never would have thought of having sex with Jennifer before today, but now laying down as her, feeling wet between the thighs, the ridiculousness of the situation allowed him to act as though this was all just a dream. It was okay to just give in if it's a dream. Jennifer seemed pleased, looking at her own pussy under her skirt, stroking the cock she had stolen while watching her body become aroused, leaving a wet spot on the sheet.

Jennifer rubbed the head of (Reader's) dick across her clitoris, making (Reader) flinch under the new sensation. He gasped a little, feeling his thighs shutter in anticipation.

There were no words to describe the feeling of having his dick enter him, the way a vagina's walls constricted, the feeling of being filled up was unlike anything (Reader) had felt before.

His voice chuckled as Jennifer melted into her pussy. "God, I am tight!"

Although (Reader) knew the comment wasn't directed towards him it made his heart race and the strange tingling grow stronger. He bit his lip as Jennifer began slowly picking up the pace, pounding into herself.

"Fuck, I'm cute!" Jennifer grabbed (Reader's) newly adopted breasts tightly, earning a shocked mewl. "Is that what I look like all the time? Goddamn, if you keep making that face I might cum in ya!"

There were so many new things to focus on that (Reader) felt like he was losing his mind. He could feel his heavy balls slapping onto Jennifer's his ass, and hear the wet sound of his new cunt sucking in the erection as Jennifer snapped her hips into his. The way his nipples were twisted made the tingling in his belly grow faster, threatening to spill out.

"Jennifer! I think I'm about to cum!" (Reader) cried out, dazed by how aroused he was.

"Ha! Do I fuck that good?! Hey, hey, hey! How do I feel?! Are you gonna cum on your own dick? Ah! Stop tightening up! Jesus, this pussy feels good!"

(Reader) couldn't control it, screaming out in pleasure as their walls began convulsing, spasming around their dick as they orgasmed. Jennifer barely pulled out in time to release between her own thighs.

"Shit, that was close.. you almost held me in there haha.." Jennifer collapsed next to (Reader), still sensitive and overwhelmed, riding out his first feminine climax. "Ahh.. guy orgasms don't last as long as chicks.." Jennifer commented, closing her eyes wearily.

After a nap, (Reader) woke up to find himself back in his own body, lying next to Jennifer. She was also awake, numbly staring at the ceiling. There was a strange feeling inside (Reader) that he couldn't quite understand.

Nervous, he turned away from Jennifer, unable to proposition her while looking at her. "I wouldn't mind.. doing that again some time.. the spell, I mean."

As though she had been waiting for him to speak first, Jennifer erupted into laughter, spooning her best friend from behind. "Same."

#kinktober #cw dubcon #body swap #x reader #oc x reader #bad writing #not proofread

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eddiemunson-fanfic · 1 year

Note

Hey girl hey

I was wondering if I could request a fic idea that's been on my brain for a while?

Either reader and eddie are arguing over something just stupid but eddie just won't let it go and reader just flashes him her boobs to stop the argument and it works lol.

Modern AU where Eddie's at work and reader sends him a naughty snapchat/text to tease him and his brain kinda short circuits and he leave work early 😏

hey giirl! ofcourse you can always make a request, and sorry it took me some time to get back to you! but I tried my best, and hope you like it :') (and i loved both of them, but this will only include the first request, maybe I'll make another one for the second request :'))

Winning the argument.

Eddie Munson x Plus Size!FM!Reader

Warnings: TW (considering the argument), flashing, cursing, nipple play, sort of dom!Eddie, edging denial(?), choking.

Summary: you knew it annoyed Eddie, but you never thought of it as a big deal, but that was until you always ended up in a disagreement with him considering it. You knew he was only looking out for you, but you knew how to make him relax once he was riled up over it.

"God damn it woman, listen to me!" Eddie huffed as he pulled at his own hair, clearly frustrated with you.

"I am listening, I swear!"

"You know I get worried when you never tell me where you're going, and when you disappear for 24 hours without a single heads up? What the fuck do you think I would be doing? Not worry?!" he was getting more and more agitated by the second, and you flinched slightly when his voice got a bit louder than usual.

He was pacing back and forth, struggling to find the words to describe what he was feeling at that moment.

"Can you please just stop being so dramatic?" you huffed, which made Eddie stop dead in his tracks, glaring at you as he did.

"Oh, dramatic?! Dramatic?!" he practically screamed into your face, his hot breath hitting your face by how hard he was talking, making you jump just slightly.

"Excuse me for wanting to know and make sure that my god damn girlfriend which I love deeply is safe! I'm so fucking sorry!" he spat at you, rolling his eyes as he got more and more annoyed, pulling and struggling to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he cursed under his breath for struggling to reach it.

"For gods sake! Fuck!" he growled, finally getting the pack out of his pocket and lighting a cigarette as he inhaled and exhaled hard, trying to calm himself down.

You knew you needed to do something to make him relax, and you knew just what to do.

"Babe" you spoke softly.

"What?!" he barked at you, choking on his own spit as he looked at you, his mind going completely blank as you had thrown your shirt up, flashing him your tits.

"Fuck" he practically moaned under his breath, licking his lips hungrily as he focused on your tits as you walked closer to him, his eyes fixated on them as you were almost flush against him.

"I'm sorry baby, I really am" you tried softly, walking closer to him as he stood by the door to his trailer. You took his face in your hands, leaning your forehead against his as his breath fanned over your face.

"I am really sorry"

His arms wrapped around you softly as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I hate when you do that" he chuckled softly, shaking his head softly as he did.

"What? Show you my boobs?" you tried to act as innocent as you possibly could, as one of his hands came up to cup your boob, a huge grin on his face as he licked his lips once more.

"Mhm" he moaned, struggling to breathe steady as he squeezed your boob softly.

"Fuck, I love them so much" he said as he stepped a bit away from you to get a better view of your tits as you got rid of your shirt completely, giving yourself a mental high five as it has worked once more.

"They love you too, baby" you cooed, watching him fall to his knees in front of you as he burried his face in between your boobs, inhaling the scent of you as he placed soft kisses to each before wrapping his arms around you, placing his face between them again, a huge grin across his face as he did.

You let him sit there on his knees for as long as he needed to. You didn't really mind having him like this on his knees in front of you as you played with his hair.

"I love you so so much" he mumbled against your skin as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, making you chuckle at him.

"I love you too, dummy" you giggled, leaning down to place a soft kiss to the top of his head before he lifted his head just slightly to look at you.

"I'm sorry I overreacted"

You felt bad for him straight away, you always did. You knew he just wanted to make sure you were okay, and when he didn't hear from you for over 24 hours, which was mostly the case when you ended up arguing like this, you wished for nothing but to teach yourself that you for once in your god damn life was able to pick up the god damn phone and give him a heads up. You were always talking together when you weren't gonna hang out for several hours on the phone, and even if it didn't happen often that you didn't hang out or were hours on end with eachother on the phone, you still felt bad you didn't take time to just give him a little heads up that you were doing okay and he didn't have to worry.

"Baby, don't apologise, please, it's okay"

"Ofcourse it's not okay that I shout at you baby, and don't you ever think it is!" he said a bit shocked, looking up at you between his lashes, his beautiful brown eyes melting you to the damn core.

"I won't, sorry!" you said, giving him a soft smile, noticing how he relaxed in your embrace as you kept on playing with his hair, something you knew he loved.

"But these" he smiled mischievously as he cupped both your tits, bouncing them in his hands for a bit before he wrapped his lips around your nipple as he played with the other, earning a soft moan from you as you pulled at his hair, your eyes rolling back.

"Fuck" you whimpered, loving the feeling of his tongue circling around your nipple, the gentle bites and the feeling of his lips around it as he sucked harshly before letting go of the nipple with a pop to focus on the other, giving the exact same attention to it as he did with the first.

"Babe" you moaned, pulling at his hair, earning a moan from him in response, as he bit down on your nipple softly, sending a pleasurable sensation through your entire body.

"Mhm" he moaned in response, batting his eyelashes at you as he continued his delicious torture with your nipples. Pinching the one he didn't have in his mouth between his fingers, circling soft circles around it, making your knees weak from his torture.

"Eddie, please"

He just chuckled in response, letting go of your nipple with a pop as he looked up at you with a huge grin, batting his lashes at you as he tried to act as innocent as he possibly could, still torturing your nipples by pinching them between his fingers.

"What, princess? Too much?"

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how sensitive your nipples were. You couldn't answer him, but just whimpered and gasped as he pinched your nipples and rolled them around between his fingers.

"I can see you're getting needy baby" he cooed, smirking at you as he watched how you tried to rub your legs together to create some sort of friction.

"But I didn't allow you to do anything about it, did I now?" he smirked, making you whimper as the grin he had over his face grew.

"Answer me" he demanded as he flicked your nipples, making you hiss slightly in pain.

"No"

"No, what?" he smirked.

"No, master"

His eyes rolled back as he bit down on his lip, getting aroused more by the second, especially by the nickname you called him.

"There she is" he cooed, as he stood face to face with you again, pushing you softly against the wall, a hand wrapping around your neck softly, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he placed his knee between your leg, rubbing against your clothed core.

"You do as your told, isn't that right?"

You whimpered in response, but he didn't let it slide, squeezing your neck a bit tighter, making you moan, his knee pushing a bit harder against your clothed pussy.

"You're already soaked baby" he cooed, his eyes sparkling in the light, and you could see the lust grow in his eyes.

"Fuck Eddie"

Another squeeze to your neck.

"That's not my name honey"

"Sorry master" you whimpered.

He placed a soft kiss to your lips, biting down on your lower lip, making you moan in response before he let go of you completely, making you huff in annoyance.

"I have to get back to you after band practice, but don't do anything until I get back, or else" he warned, making you nod, but wanting nothing more but to pull him against you again, devouring him completely.

He pecked your lips once more before opening the door and winking at you.

"Love you"

Taglist: @eddiemunsonfuxks, @jadeylovesmarvelxo, @anaisweird, @marsmunson86, @eddiethesexy, @readsalot73, @warmaidensrevenge, @sherrylyn628, @sammararaven, @sllooney, @salenorona23, @screaming-blue-bagel, @sheenastark22, @lil-quinnie, @erinsingalong, @emsgoodthinkin

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grimesrhees · 4 months

Text

Good Luck, Babe.

pairing: maggie greene/rhee x fem!reader

genre: angst, mostly.

warnings: mentions of intimacy & alcohol

notes: I rarely write so please enjoy my own self indulgent attempt at it solely for my queen Maggie<3 (this also took me forever, thanks adhd😅)

summary: based on Chappell Roan's song Good Luck, Babe! Set (mostly) before the zombie apocalypse, Maggie struggles with her feelings towards other women. reader gets caught in between, falling for her knowing Maggie isn't ready to accept herself yet.

-Pre-Zombie Apocalypse-

How the hell did I get here again?

You thought to yourself as you lay sweaty and tingly all over, staring into the void of the dark ceiling above. You knew exactly how you got here, in bed with Maggie Greene, yet again. All she had to do was bat those eyelashes your way and use that sweet southern drawl and you were a goner. Ever since you started getting to know each other at the beginning of the semester 6 months ago, you wanted to show her all the ways you could make her feel good. But from the start you were aware that this was experimentation for Maggie, being with another woman. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was attracted to women along with men. There were many occasions she’d drunkenly called or text you to come pick her up after one too many shots at the bar, only for you to walk in and find her making out with yet another man. But you always came anyway. Because even through the heart ache of this situationship, you couldn’t help but to start falling for Maggie. She was so smart and kind, gentle but fierce all the same, when she wasn’t being a stubborn bull in denial over the two of you.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you turned to face the soft, bare back of Maggie’s. All those days in the hot Georgia sun on her daddy’s farm had her shoulders and back peppered with freckles. You tried to take in every inch of her while you slowly drew your fingertips up and down along her spine. Maggie hummed sleepily at your touch, and you could feel you heart swell and break into pieces at the same time. You didn’t think you could take this, whatever this was between you and her, much longer.

You woke up early the next morning, way before Maggie, and decided to take a quick shower and brew some coffee. You poured two cups, set them both down on the small table and sat. After wrestling back and forth with your thoughts last night, before you mercifully fell asleep, you decided that it was best to talk to Maggie about what was going on between you two. You sipped the hot coffee slowly and stared into the black liquid abyss in front of you until you heard the small creaks of the floorboard.

Maggie’s figure appeared, wearing nothing but an oversized flannel shirt and a pair of lacey underwear. Her hair, completely disheveled from the passion of the night before. You couldn’t help your heart from fluttering at the sight. She leaned against the door frame and flashed you that winning, toothy smile of hers, signature lip bite and all. It quickly fell when she noticed the sad look on your face as you looked up from your coffee.

“Darlin’ why the sad face, what’s got you down this mornin’?” Maggie cooed in that sweet southern drawl of hers.

“After last night I cain’t have nothin’ but a smile on my face.”

You took a deep breath and looked up into Maggie’s big green eyes.

“Mags, what are we doing? Why do we keep doing this to ourselves? What are we?”

You prepped for the inevitable response you were going to get.

Maggie let out a huff and folded her arms across her chest.

“Whatta ya mean ‘what are we doin’ and ‘what are we’? We’re havin’ fun, it’s just casual sex y/n. We’re not anything but that…” she trailed off, almost as if she was convincing herself at the same time as the words were coming out of her mouth.

God she was so fucking stubborn.

You looked away from her and felt your eyes stinging with inescapable tears. Keeping those tears from falling would take everything in you, so you set your coffee down and started to get up from the table.

“Wait, y/n I didn’t mean it quite like that, you know how much I care about you," she shifted her body up straight,

"But this is just the way it is I can’t-"

You stopped her before she could finish.

“I know that this,” you motioned your pointer finger back and forth between the two of you, “is more than “nothing”, more than just “casual” sex. You know that I love you, Maggie.”

Maggie’s mouth went agape for a brief moment before it snapped shut, her jaw tightening and brows furrowing. A mix of emotions flashed across her face, fear, frustration and sadness. She couldn’t will herself to say anything back to you, so you continued on.

“Y'know what, it’s fine. It's cool. You can kiss a hundred guys in bars, shoot shot after shot just to try and stop you from feeling what you know is true about yourself. Make all the excuses , give me all the stupid reasons, but I won’t be here for them. I can’t do this anymore.”

You stood quickly and snatched your bag off the back of your chair, walking over to Maggie and getting only inches away from her face. Even having just woken up she was exceptionally beautiful, and her scent was something you could get drunk off of. You had ripped the band aid almost all off, you had to control yourself, had to end this now, even though almost every ounce of your body was tempted to push her up against the wall and kiss her until you were both breathless and gasping for air.

“This isn’t something you can just hide from forever, Maggie Greene. And you will think about this, years from now, until maybe you finally fucking realize that. Face to face with my ‘I told you so,’ and a longing for what could have been.”

Maggie continued to just stare at you but with tears now brimming in her eyes, still too stubborn to respond to any of your words. Her eyes fell to your feet until you brushed past her and towards the front door. While reaching for the doorknob you turned and looked back at Maggie, tears already steadily rolling down your cheeks.

“Good luck, babe,” you managed to choke out before swiftly opening the door and closing it behind you with a thud.

-Some months into the Zombie Apocalypse-

Flashes of different images and sensations danced across her mind.

The wind whooshing through her hair as her arms stretched out through the car sun roof.

An arching back and the feeling of sweat rolling down her chest, in a state of complete pleasure. Soft moans and wet kisses.

Giggles rang in and out but soon faded into silence.

Your tear-stained face looking back at her, "I told you so," echoing loudly, and the slamming of a door. Suddenly a mirror appeared and only her heartbroken face was staring back at her.

Maggie awoke with a small gasp and sat straight up in her bed. She took a minute to steady her breathing while trying to recollect the dream she just had. Next to her she heard Glenn let out a sleepy sigh and shift in his sleep. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and put her head in her hands. The world ended and you were right, she couldn't hide the truth from herself forever. She had loved you, completely. Always did. Maggie laid her head back on her pillow, breathing a sigh of relief, finally allowing herself some acceptance.

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withahappyrefrain · 6 days

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this one is so cute! 🍂🍁🍃

A stands in a queue when they notice a leaf stuck in the hair/on the clothes of the person in front of them. They offer to remove it for them.

for bob and maeve?

AHHHH so excited to start writing for these two! And of course I had to bring in Bradley and Birdie! ❤️❤️ Enjoy!

Fall in San Diego was different. By the time October started rolling, the average temperature had cooled down to a ‘crisp’ seventy degrees. Chunky sweaters were traded in for light cardigans. Sure, you could wear a scarf, but not a functional one. Gone were the days of needing gloves.

It was a stark difference from the east coast.

Gone was the scenic view of mountains and orchards. In its place were micro-breweries and overpriced wineries. But also gone was a shitty ex husband. In its place, the unknown.

At least the farmer markets here still sold apple butter.

It was a consolidation prize for Maeve. She was forever grateful that Nora wanted to show her around, but that also meant third wheeling for Nora and her fiancé. Worse, they were sickeningly in love. She had never been so happy for her best friend, but also so fucking jealous at the same time.

So she would enjoy these last few moments, while Nora was trying to find her partner amidst the crowd. They tried to not make her feel bad, but being around them reminded Maeve how alone she had become.

Wait, did that guy have a leaf on his back?

Upon squinting her hazel eyes, she saw that man standing in front of her did in fact, have a leaf on the back of his plaid shirt.

Should she- oh thank God, he was reaching for it. Now Maeve wouldn't have to look at it while standing in line.

Nope. Despite his long arms, the leaf had wedged itself in a place where he couldn't reach. Oh God, was she going to have to watch him struggle the whole time?

Wanting to save her sanity outweighed her dislike of talking to strangers.

"I can get it for you, the leaf. If you want?"

He turned around to reveal a face that made her heart flutter. Bright blue eyes, bluer than the ocean. Tortoiseshell glasses that framed his face. Sunkissed hair, tousled in waves. A button nose that brought a sense of sweetness to him. A smattering of faded freckles, no doubt from hours upon hours of being out in the sun.

"Could you? That would be great, otherwise it's gonna bother me all day?" His voice was smooth as whiskey, a rural upbringing lacing his words.

But what was most astounding was his smile. The way his thin pink lips contorted to form a small, slightly crooked smile. The creases that formed around his oceanic eyes, showing years of smiles and laughter.

God, he just looked kind. The type that Maeve always wondered what it would be like to have. To see first thing in the morning and the last thing when she closed her eyes at night.

"M'am?" It didn't come across as condescending, it was actually charming. It was also said in such a deep vibrato that Maeve to snap out of whatever the fuck those last two minutes was.

It's been three months, for fuck sake's Maeve.

Why would he even be interested in you?

This is why you're a twenty-eight year old divorceé.

Maeve nodded as she mentally scolded herself, "Absolutely, not a problem."

Bob turned around, despite not wanting to. He would rather focus on the umber curls that framed her face. Or the way shades of hickory and green swirled together in her eyes. His favorite had to be how her eyes squinted when she smiled. His mother would call that as having 'smiley eyes' when he was a child.

Jesus Christ, we're really desperate now.

It wouldn't end well for you anyways. Never does.

That's why you're thirty-four and still single, Robert.

So in a way, he was grateful to turn around, as it was a chance to get himself together.

That lasted for maybe ten seconds. Bob couldn't tell if touch was incredibly gentle or if she wasn't touching him. So he turned his head, catching her reaching out.

The eye contact made Maeve freeze for a beat or two. Once Bob flashed her that sweet smile, she found the strength to continue, internally marveling at how soft his shirt felt.

He must use fabric softener. Maybe he attends this market regularly. Maybe-

It's been three months.

Yes, three months since the document was signed and it was made official legally. But the acceptance of a unsustainable marriage had occured a year ago.

She held up the leaf for effect, "You want to keep it as memorabilia?"

Bob chuckled, making Maeve feel warm all over, as if she had just drank mulled cider, "No, no, I think I'm good. But I'd love to buy that for you as a way to say thanks."

This time it was her turn to shake her head, "Oh, it was nothing! Just a leaf." Bob noticed that when she shook her head, the curls that had fallen over his forehead shook slightly.

God, she was adorable. Absolutely, completely endearing.

"Yeah, but that would have bothered me the whole time I was with my friends. I wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else," he grinned, "Plus you had no issue talking to a complete stranger. That's gotta be commended."

A laugh escapes from her rosey lips, "I usually hate talking to strangers." Fuck, why would you even say that?

If he found it odd, the handsome stranger didn't visibly or vocally show it, "Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of that either. Again, gotta be commended."

She looked down at the jar of apple butter, "It would be faster if you paid for mine. I'm meeting some friends too."

"Happy to serve," the unintentional pun about his career was lost on her. At least he could bring it up to Mickey, who would get a good laugh out of it. And his wife Cielo too. And then they would probably do something sweet, like kiss while holding hands, unintentionally reminding Bob how utterly alone it felt coming home from work every day.

Their hands brushed against one another when Maeve transferred the jar to Bob. He turned around, partly to see if he needed to step forward, partly to hide the smile on his face.

Had he turned around, he would have seen the same smile on her face. One that was full of excitement, felt for the first time in years. Just like him.

Eventually, he looked back, this time mainly to see if his friends were amidst the crowd of shoppers.

He felt the need to explain, out of fear of coming across as creepy, "My friend went looking for his fiancé. She's bringing her best friend."

What a coincidence, Nora's fiancé was bringing a friend too.

Yeah, to help you feel less shitty about always being their third wheel.

"Well does your friend have any idea where his fiancé could be?" Maeve asked as Bob paid for the two jars of apple butter.

"Oh yeah, Birdie's first stop is always the Takyaki stand," Bob paused, "Birdie isn't her real name, it's just-"

"Do you mean Nora?" Maeve's voice was now timid. Blood rushing through her veins, wondering if it was too good to be true.

Bob stopped in his tracks, brows knitting together, "How do you know her name?"

Before Maeve could explain, two new voices interrupted.

"Bob?" "Maeve?"

Turning around revealed Nora (who many referred to as 'Birdie'), who was holding the hand of her fiancé, Bradley (who at work was referred to as 'Rooster').

Bob and Maeve turned their attention back to one another, realization hitting like a brick wall.

He's the kindest guy I know. You'll love him.

She's honestly just the sweetest. It's a damn shame what happened.

They're like you. They've been through similar shit.

"You're Maeve?" He had a long finger pointed at her (God his hands were huge) but it wasn't accusing.

Maeve felt at ease, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she nodded, her eyes creasing due to her smile.

There were those smiley eyes that made his knees weak.

"I am and you're Bob? Just Bob, right? No totally random, work nickname?" With anyone else, it would have been demeaning. A few years ago, Bob would have taken offense.

But his shoulders were feeling lighter these days thanks to the past actually staying in its namesake more often.

"Well, my full name is Robert. I have some family who call me Rob, some call me Robby but that's because I gave them explicit permission to do so, not everyone reaches that level. And then some of my friends call me Bobby. So in terms of work nickname, you're correct, it's not totally random." His eyes were so expressive, it was memorizing to watch.

Charming. He was actually charming.

"Well, I think having multiple nicknames that are based off of your actual name is better than having one and it's a children's game or bird," she turned her head to flash a smile, "No offense Bradley."

Bradley, who was used to her strong opinions on call signs and now only a foot away, simply rolled his eyes, "No offense taken Maeve. But we do call him Bagman, remember?"

A coy smile spread across her face, something Bob found so endearing.

"So you two....know each other?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow. She swears she would have remembered her best friend meeting one of her fiancé's best work friends.

"We actually just met. Maeve saved me from an afternoon of trying to reach a spot on my back to get rid of a leaf," Bob explained, gently putting his hand on Maeve's shoulder. His touch was pleasant, considerate even.

"Bob got me some apple butter as a thank you," Maeve held up the jar while looking down, hoping no one would notice the rosy hue that was spreading across her face.

"Which, I assume is to make your famous cinnamon sugar apple butter pie?" Bob now turned to her, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Catching her confused expression, Bob jumped in, "When you left a pie after visiting Birdie, Bradley brought in leftovers. It was a huge hit, I still think about it."

Charlie always had an issue with whatever she cooked. Too salty. Not healthy babe. Why are you even making that?

But Charlie wasn't here. He was on the east coast, no doubt trying to find another gullible person to invest in one of his bullshit 'ideas'.

Instead there was Bob, who had a sparkle in his eyes. Who had not only heard about you, but remembered details too.

God, the bar was so fucking low.

Meanwhile, Bob hadn't thought about Cassie once since meeting the curly, raven haired woman with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

"Well, given the lack of a paper bag in Nora's hand, I'd say it's time we head to the Hog Haven stand and get some breakfast sandwiches," Maeve suggested, hoping it would turn the attention away from her.

"Absolutely! I know Bob wanted to stop by the pickling stand for Sauerkraut and that's on the way!" Nora grabbed Bradley's hand, and walked forward, leaving Bob and Maeve to walk side by side.

Almost as if it was planned that way.

"What's the Sauerkraut for?" Maeve asked, secretly noticing how he slowed his stride to match hers.

"I'm making Bigos. It means 'Hunter Stew' in Polish. My mom made it for me and my siblings all the time growing up. She's back in Wisconsin, and since it's finally 'cooled down' here, figured it was a good time to make it."

Bob can't remember the last time he felt this talkative to someone new. Usually it takes hours, sometimes even multiple outings for him to warm up. And that was if he liked the person's company.

It took him two months to warm up to Jake.

But something about Maeve had him talking a mile a minute. Even Bradley had turned around to raise his eyebrows at how much Bob was talking. He had to be careful; the last thing he needed was to be in the same situation he was in six years ago.

"I'm not super familiar with Polish food- other than bagels and pierogi's- but I'd like to learn more about it," her voice was sweet, albeit slightly reserved. Not wanting to appear too eager, or insinuate anything.

"I have a whole box of recipes from my mom and Aunts and Grandma. I can bring it next time-" He paused. No, don't assume. Never assume. "I can pass it on to Bradley who can give it to Birdie. Whichever you prefer."

"We can leave y'all to talk to each other if you want!" Bradley called out before turning his attention back to Nora.

"I have a feeling this won't be the last time we see each other. Not if those two lovebirds have anything to say about it." Her comment brought out a laugh in Bob, which in turn caused a big smile to break out across Maeve's face.

"Glad I'm not the only one who calls them that. Everyone else says it's too cheesy." "Well, those people have no love or appreciation for puns. Luckily for you Robby, I do."

He didn't correct her. In fact, he liked how the name sounded coming from her pink lips.

"Maybe we can keep talking about puns and recipes while they," Bob pointed to Bradley and Nora, who were currently holding hands and exchanging (what they thought to be) sneaky kisses, "Are themselves."

"So they act this way around you too?" Maeve's eyes lit up, relieved she wasn't the only one who had to deal with the most sickeningly sweet couple on the planet, "Being a third wheel with them is rough."

The two had now stopped at the pickles goods stand, ignoring their friends who had invited them out.

"I think it's going well! I never saw her smile this much with Charlie," Nora whispered excitedly, unable to take her green eyes off of Maeve and Bob.

"I'd say so," Bradley looked at Nora, not needing to see that his friend was talking to Maeve with a gleam in his blue eyes, a rare sight, "You know it's not going to happen overnight, right?"

"I'm aware. But I think they're off to a good start," Nora grinned. The sight of her best friend, looking the happiest she's seen in the past year, kept her bounce on her toes.

Bob and Maeve were indeed, off to a good start.

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