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#samantha carpenter x reader
bel1ewrites · 3 days
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Good Luck, Babe! (Sam Carpenter x Reader)
a/n: Long time no see......... Originally this was a Wanda Maximoff fanfic, but I needed Sam in a tank top again. ps. listen to Good Luck, Babe! by Chapell Roan if you want to understand this more or watch Stardew valley female farmer x Haley edits.
Description: You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.
WC: 2.9k
Warnings: Bar bathroom sex, bottom!reader, top!Sam, farmer!Sam, internalized homophobia, brief kissing of men :(, angst, mentions of alcohol
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IT was getting difficult to keep track of the number of shots you’d gone through, each one drowning out your regrets more than the last. The bar was stuffy. It was full of sweaty bodies and slurred words, Friday night drawing most people from town to wind down from a week full of work. It was always a risk coming here, you knew that.
She frequented this bar, sipped on whiskey and laughed lightly with the other farmers at the bartop. But you didn’t care. Besides, you weren’t there for her! You weren’t. You were there to find a new boy to distract yourself with, to spend the night next to. 
The martini you’d ordered sat untouched in front of you, taunting you quietly as if reading your thoughts. 
“Hey there pretty lady,” a voice called from behind you, raised slightly so that you could hear him over the chatter. 
You turned on your stool, eyes met with a man. They all looked the same to you: like, well, men. This one had glasses, which was a good thing you’d supposed. He was handsome enough. His hair was dark, near black, and slicked back with a thick layer of gel. The thought of running your hands through the sticky mess made your stomach churn. Not because you didn’t like man hair! You just didn’t like gel, which was a valid reason that had nothing to do with his gender.
Running a hand through your hair, you put on your best smile and lowered your eyelids -a trick as old as time-. “Hi,” you said sweetly, offering him your name. His eyes lit up, beer hanging comfortably in his hand. 
The background noise grew louder, hoots coming from a number of men somewhere behind you. A mixture of, “Took you long enough!”s and “Look who decided to show up!”s grabbing your attention. You brushed it off, stayed facing away from the ruckus and tried to focus on gel boy’s words. 
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said smoothly, eyes running down your figure. “I’m Har-”
“Alright boys enough!” a familiar voice shot out through the room, rasped syllables filling your ears and sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t turn around, wouldn’t. Your feet stayed planted as her laugh sparked your body to life. 
You thought long and hard. Thought about what to do, where to go. You should stay, there was no reason to leave. And anyways, the night was far from over. The clock behind -Harley? Hardy?- the man read half past nine. No, you would stay and have fun with Har-what’s-it and you would go home with him if he asked and you wouldn’t think about a certain farmer with black hair and impressively skilled forearms. Forearms that were sculpted from lifting and plowing and planting. Forearms that you wanted to watch move as her hands found their way-
“Um, hello?” Har-gel asked, scratching his neck with his free hand. His cheeks were tinged with a slight pink. He seemed like a sweet guy, one who would marry a sweet girl and have babies with her. A girl who wasn’t you. 
You grasped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down towards you with your back pressed against the bartop. “Can we makeout?” you asked, eyes flicking down to his parted lips. They were chapped a little. You looked away from them. 
He didn’t hesitate, just placed his beer on the surface behind you and boxed you in with his arms, hips pressing to yours as he moved closer between your legs. 
The kiss was fine. It tasted like beer and the stubble on his chin poked yours painfully. It was fine, his tongue was in your mouth and like, that was fine you guessed. He was respectful with it, hands not venturing from their spot behind you. You waited, kissed back, went to run a hand through his hair and thought better of it. You waited some more. 
After what seemed like an eon, he pulled back. His cheeks were bright red and his glasses were foggy, lips a little swollen as his breath rushed out from them. You didn’t feel much of anything besides indifference. There was a pit in your stomach, one that you ignored entirely. It was probably something everyone experienced when they kissed a man, one that was meant to be pushed aside. 
“Wanna get out of here?” Har-don asked, gazing down at you with a look that was definitely meant to be attractive, and probably would’ve been if not for the shots in your system. 
“Yeah!” you said, smile painfully forced, “Just let me go use the restroom really quick.” he backed up as you went to stand, digging through your purse and setting two twenties down next to your drink. 
Your legs carried you to the women's room, hands fussing with the tangles he’d made in your hair. The dress you wore was one of your favorites, one that screamed summer. It was the perfect length for going out, not too short but not too long. It flowed around you as you pushed the bathroom door open, sighing with relief when you realized you were alone. 
When you met your eyes in the mirror, you couldn’t help but look away. You were ashamed, you felt like a fraud. The pit in your stomach grew, so you washed your hands to distract yourself. The water was cold as it rushed out of the faucet, soothing your overheated body and disarrayed mind while you watched it hit your skin. You stood there with your hands under the water for longer than normal, not even glancing up when the door opened.
Briefly, the sounds of the bar flooded the bathroom, fading as the door swung shut. Subconsciously you reached out, pushed on the soap dispenser and watched the foam fall into your dripping hand. You just needed a minute before you went back to the sweet man with the glasses, a second to collect yourself. 
“Got a lot on your mind?” a woman asked from behind you. Well, not just a woman. The woman. 
The woman who you shared your secrets with, who held you when you cried and listened to you say things like, “it's just not the way I am, Sam,” after the two of you got done fucking. She was the woman who made you believe in love, who showed you how colorful the world could be. 
Her hair was pulled back, a few stray pieces falling messily around her face. It was still dark, but the summer sun had brightened it up a little bit. She was clad in her work clothes, tank top tucked into her jeans, boots laced perfectly. It was easy to tell what she’d been up to the past few months, her toned arms and tanned skin hinting at long days spent on the farm. You forced your eyes away from her figure in the mirror, looking back at your hands in the water. 
“Nope,” you sighed, turning the water off and drying your hands. “Just freshening up.”
She huffed out a laugh, crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t blame you,” she admitted. “I’d wash my hands after that little show too.”
You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, movement halting momentarily, hands frozen in brown paper towels. You hadn’t meant for her to see that, not consciously at least. You just needed to distract yourself, just needed a minute to focus on something other than her. 
“If you came in here to slut shame me, I’m not in the mood,” your voice was cold, eyes catching hers in the mirror. You still hadn’t turned to face her. You couldn’t
Her brows pinched together, lips parting to say something before shutting again. Her tongue darted out the wet them. She took a step closer. “I didn’t mean- well, I did, but I’m sorry.” 
You shrugged, “not like I care.” You shoved the paper towels into the trash can next to you and leaned into the mirror, running a finger under your lip to fix the smudges there. The reminder of the feeling of stubble against your chin made your stomach churn, but your face remained impassive. 
You can hear Sam groan from behind you, probably pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer and thumb. “I hate when you say that.” 
“Say what?”
She took another step closer, the sound of her boots hitting the floor sending shocks to your system. “That you don’t care.”
You stayed quiet, looked at yourself in the mirror. You saw a girl, a fraud, a liar. You saw your future flash in front of you, an unhappy marriage, nothing more than some man’s wife. 
She was right behind you now, close enough that you could feel her presence like a promise. She put her hand on the counter, leaned forward until you could see her face in the peripheral. 
“Look at me.” she pleaded lowly, desperation in her tone. It was impossible to keep your eyes from meeting hers. She stood behind you, arms at her sides and gaze burning into you. Her body pressed into you as you leaned away from the mirror, her hands falling to your waist. “Tell me you want me to go,” she sighed, burying her face in your neck and inhaling. You couldn’t help but fall further into her. 
You said nothing, your own hands moving to grasp at hers and drag them up your body until she was hugging you from behind, breathing you in and squeezing. 
“Tell me to leave,” her voice was muffled in your neck, lips moving against your skin as she placed kisses there like last resorts. 
You shook your head, lashes fluttering as you gave into the feeling of her again. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, hands squeezing your flesh. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when she bit you softly, teeth digging into your jugular. 
“Say you want this,” she spoke the sentence like a prayer.
You couldn’t manage the words.
“Tell me you want me,” She ordered, voice hard. Her breathing was heavy, you could feel her hands shake slightly from where they were pressed into you. “Say it or I’ll leave right now. I swear, I’ll leave and pretend you never existed.” The words were sharp and final. 
All you could manage was a nod, brows drawn together in want. She moved, taking her face out of your neck and towering over you, though your height differences weren’t drastic. Her hands skated down your pelvis, landing on your hips and squeezing, pulling you into her. 
“Use your words,” she pried, eyes dark and pupils blown. 
You couldn’t. Your mouth was glued shut, it was impossible to say anything to her, impossible to do anything other than shake your head and squeeze her hands on your hips. You were so lost in her that you forgot all about the bar, all about the bathroom, the unlocked door. There was nothing but her. Her hands, her hair, her face, her mouth. 
She moved her hand, pushing you forward with a grip on the back of your neck and folding you over the counter. Heat rushed through you, settling in the bottom of your stomach and making you close your eyes. The counter was fairly long, seemingly built for fucking on top of. 
“Don’t worry,” she reassured you, her hand trailing down your back, the other still on your hip. “I’ll get you to say it.” 
You let out a high pitched squeak, a mix between a whine and a sound of shock when she pulled the skirt of your dress up, pushing it past your lower back. 
Her fingers ran over your skin, nails digging in as she dragged her hand lower and lower, pushing into you and leaning forward to speak in your ear. You moaned quietly, hips moving against the pressure of her still hand, seeking relief. “Would you have let him bend you over this counter,” she asked, kissing your shoulder. “What would he say if he saw this? If he saw you all desperate and needy for me, whining and begging for me to fuck you,” she looked at you, face pink and lips parted, and hummed. 
When she started moving her hand you had to bite into your lip to keep quiet, so hard that you were afraid you’d bleed. Her fingertips pressed into your clit, moving in calculated circles just how you liked it. She’d always been so good at reading you, at figuring out just what made you tick, what made you need her. 
“Please,” you panted when she slowed her hand, watching as she smiled menacingly from behind you before pulling the last layer of fabric down your parted legs. When she put her fingers back they were met with slick heat, the sound of her groan only making your need worse.
“Say it,” she said, running her fingers through you, feeling the way you wanted her. Her breathing stuttered when you let out a needy sound, her fingers pressing tight circles right where she knew you wanted them. It was too slow, you needed more.
You suppressed a moan, covering your mouth with your hand. 
“You used to be so good for me,” she pouted, pulling your hand away from your mouth and holding it behind your back with her free one. “What happened?”
Without warning, she slid two fingers into you, pulling a deep moan from you, too loud for a public bathroom. Her fingers pushed down, finding the spot that only she knew before you could even comprehend it. She fucked you like she meant it, hard thrusts powered by months of pent up need. It was scary how fast she was able to build you up, how fast she got you panting and begging. 
“Fuck,” you whined, straining your neck to look back at her for the first time, as opposed to her reflection in the mirror. 
“Face forward,” she ordered, pounding into you harder, “look at how pretty you are, taking me like this. Tell me you want this, baby.” Her voice was dripping with need, the steady rhythm of her thrusts hauling you closer. 
“Harder,” you groaned, pushing back into her and leaning up on your free arm. The fabric of your dress rubbed against your skin where it lay, the sensation was so dirty. You were being fucked over a bathroom sink, watching yourself get more and more pathetic as your ex buried her fingers in you.
Her thrusts grew softer, slower, enragingly delicate. “Say you fucking want me.” Her words were a stark contrast against the way she fucked you, the way she drew it out.
“Please, please Sam. I need it.” your mouth dropped open, little sounds flowing from it as she sped up again, fucking you just how she knew you liked it. Your eyes were closing of their own accord, struggling to stay open and watch as her muscles moved while she fucked you against a bar sink. 
“Good girl,” she smiled, letting go of your hand to rub your clit again. You almost fell as the pressure inside of you skyrocketed, becoming almost unbearable. “Now tell me who you belong to.”
You couldn’t comprehend her words, too focused on the orgasm that was quickly approaching, preparing your body for the shock of it. “I’m so close, baby, I’m so close. Just like that.”
Your cunt was throbbing with need, finally reunited with the person who knew you the best. All those months of fucking yourself would never amount to the way Sam did. The way she commanded your entire being.
She stopped moving. All movement stopped. Her hands, her body, her mouth. You almost cried as her fingers stilled inside of you. The orgasm rushed away, dissolving into painful pleasure and disappointment.
“No, no. Why did you stop? Sam, why?”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
“Wha-” she started moving again, slowly rubbing a spot deep inside of you. You sucked in a breath. You were so turned on it hurt, wetness running down your thighs.
“Say it,” she stressed, fingers moving on your clit again, your orgasm sparked back to life, slowly building again. The longer you waited the faster she went, working you back up until you were on the edge, one move away from cumming. 
“I’ll stop again and walk out of this goddamn bathroom so fast,” she growled over your moans. It was so hard to focus, you needed her so bad you couldn't breathe. "Who do you belong to? Who else fucks you like this?"
“You,” you choked out through a whine. Her thrusts sped up. You pulled her in with no resistance, clenching around her fingers and dripping with need “You. I belong to you, I’m yours. No one fucks me like you do, no one touches me like you do. Please let me cum Sam, please.”
The world seemed to pause when she leaned into you, kissing your neck and fucking you like you earned it. She was giving you all of herself, showing you who you belonged to and who you needed. Your brain was foggy, no sound came out of you as you came, cheek pressed against the counter and hands clenching into fists. Your elbow had given out, leaving you arched into the bar sink.
"That's it," Sam cooed, slowing down to fuck you through the wave of your orgasm, "You're so pretty."
Shock after shock hit, each one leaving you shaking even as she rested unmoving inside of you. "You did so good."
Your whole body was on fire, throbbing and twitching as you worked through it, Sam whispering praise in your ear.
She kissed your cheek, a sound of protest leaving you when she pulled her fingers out of you. You stayed still, your body moving with the force of your breaths.
"I locked the door when I came in," Sam smiled, rubbing your back soothingly.
You would ask her later, when you regained your ability to speak, how she knew to lock it. You would ask why she followed you, why she cared after you left her like she meant nothing. But for that moment, all you could do was lay there and listen to her love you.
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d6erys · 8 months
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─── act i. bloomed
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summary; your innocent crush on sam was always patent as most children who had crushes on their babysitters, but now you’re eighteen and haven’t seen sam since she left at the age you are currently, bloomed as your now figure thinned, filled out ideally. no longer the same girl sam use to call her pretty princess, at least not in the same innocent manner anymore.
⚢ pairings ; g!p!sam x fem!reader
✗ warnings ; sam knowing the reader since she was a kid, large age gap,(sam’s 26, r’s 18 almost 19) dom/sub themes, eventual smut with oral/ virginal sex, praise, degradation, unprotected sex, a bit of choking. size kink, r cheating on her boyfriend (?), implied petite reader, a lot of sexual tension/undertones, the reader is of age present time !! g!p!sam
word count; 2.6k
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chatter fills sam’s ears mindlessly as the twins and tara engross in some topic, the words buzzing in the background with sam’s attention gliding towards the tiny skirt and pala pink thong poking out in her eyesight, the smooth flesh of the random’s girls thighs taking up sam’s attention entirely, the hard-on taking ahead with the sudden tightness in her jeans with her added  frustration and stress since the occurs from woodsboro and the move to new york city, and now the pretty girl in the pale tiny skirt in her face teasing her without the girl even knowing
“don’t look now but the girl behind you has nonstop been staring up your skirt.” looking up from your salad and abruptly halting at your lazy picking around it, staring at your friend confusedly with a tint of amusement at her choice of words, ignoring her protests and aimlessly turning to the direction mentioned; your smile fading when you lock eyes with brown ones you know all too well, your eyes widening in shock while noticing sam’s face turns confused and somewhat embarrassed at now being caught.
“sammy?” you gasp in disbelief , your body turned awkwardly to take in her features and be confirmed it’s her, sam’s confusedly nods her head with her eyebrows raised skeptically, almost defensive with her arms crossed and lips pushed in a thin line. “it’s me, y/n, the girl you use to babysit for years.” you jest and laugh lightly watching her harden face now soften in shock, a slight halt of realization hits as well as her cheeks heating up with some pink. your eyes shift to the other people with her for a second and finally take account of the others, recognizing the twins and tara but your full attention is still on sam.
“oh my god,” sam forces out a laugh with her veins now turning to ice with the intake of apprehension of who she’s been having a hard-on for since the last ten minutes, embarrassment and repulse spluttering at her like freezing water being ducked on her.”y/n” sam bubbles up a laugh again as you quickly step towards their table and tangle yourself around sam to hug her taller frame.
“my god, you’re so grown up now,* sam lets out breathy, taking a full look at you and averting her eyes from that teasing skirt and your equally as teasing top, laughing humorlessly at her own words moments ago as you really all grown, your hips filled out in a womanly bloom with your chest while somehow remaining a dainty frame, your head just making it to her chest. your face no longer kiddish with braces for your teeth or any trace of the young girl she once use to watch after, sam’s month open ajar, her brows raised, flustered.” well, i am eighteen.” you muse, shyly prying your body from sam’s warm skin, breaking the intense eye contact with sam and looking over at the others.
“tara oh my god,” you open your arms as tara smiles brightly before taking you in a hug laughing in disbelief.” what the hell y/n, i didn’t know you were in the city.” tara exclaims playfully shoving your shoulder.” l know didn’t you were here either,” you pause glancing over at sam.” or sammy.”
the old pet name throbs painfully at the restrained tightness in her jeans with your doe eyes staring at her like that, images of you on your knees giving her those eyes flashes behind her vision, making her cock harden painfully. disgust overtakes her senses at her filthy scenarios and reaction to your innocent pet name, and glances at her, feeling repulsed at herself for lusting after a girl she knew since she was a child and use to babysit for most nights, but the girl she remembered was a girl, with a beaming crooked smile, not the alluring pouty pink lips and a figure of a now eighteen-year-old wearing slutty little skirts with their thongs peaking through and tops showing off years that sam missed since she ran from woodsboro on her 18th birthday.
sam eventually zones out of the conversation and reunion between you, tara, and the twins, whatever catching up you four are doing as her eyes keep catching yours, the subtle blushes and smiles you give to her, the way the tip of your tongue dabs at your full lips when your gaze lingers on her arms and the way your top raises up when you make a sudden moment too fast. sam’s mouth feels dry and the urge to vomit is there with her desire and thoughts, trying to push away the disgusting monster she feels in her with the way she has to stop herself from thoughts of you and flash memories to forcefully remind herself who she’s looking at.
but were you looking for her attention with your shy smiles toward her? is the batting of your eyes faux and not innocent as sam might think? was the jutting of your lips into a pout also an act to sway her attention to solely on you on purpose?
“sam you down?” at the mention of her name sam blinks to regain focus from her shameful thoughts and to reality.”y/n invited us to her penthouse in the upper east side.” chad explains  enthusiastically along with tara and mindy.
“so what do you say sammy, wanna come for me?”
sam raises an eyebrow at you, your tone twisting the question into something not so innocent, your voice’s teasingly low and your eyes still holding that mock innocence that no one else seems to notice but sam.
the doe eyes, pouty lips and blushy smiles is all an act. sam’s gaze intense on you, realizing she’s no longer looking at the little girl from woodsboro she remembers.
“sure.”
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tara, and the twins glance around the penthouse in amazement at entering from the maid ushering them the foursome into the large space, all windows and marble sam realizes, wondering exactly how much your father scored with his business deals to afford this in upper east side manhattan. sam’s eyes linger and flicker around in search of you.
sam’s eyes fall onto you stepping out from the hallway that she assumes leads to your room, the tiny skirt barely that covered your ass now discarded with a pair of low rise jeans and the same light pink thong now hiked up to your hips, sam shallows and takes her eyes off the temptation to airway inside her thoughts, stomping on any sexual desire she feels.
you greet your old friends first with a quick hug before making your way to sam and pulling her into you. leaning upwards as the material of your thong brushes against sam’s palm, lace. sam wraps her arms around you back before unlatching herself from you, smiling at you brightly.
“um if you guys want there’s a swimming pool on the rooftop if anyone wants to cool off or go for a swim. i have some extra bathing suits in my room, chad you can borrow a pair of tucks from my dad,” you tell everyone with an overly sweet tone, sam not missing how your words are only directed at tara, chad, and mindy, who seemly all excitedly agree.
“you coming sam?” tara asks and before sam can open her month you reply for her.”nah, i think sammy and i are gonna sit this one out and catch up.” sam arches a brow but nods to your words anyways, not sticking too long on your mention of catching up and turning it into something sinful. tara shrugs and you beckon the maid to retreat their swimming attire and direct them towards the pool area.
“so, how come you didn’t wanna join tara and the twins?” sam asks breaking the silence after the trio left, leaving only you and sam. your eyes intake sams, an edge of something sam cannot grasp onto.” i thought you heard me talking to tara,” you muse, taking a seat next to sam.” i wanted to catch up with you, i haven’t seen you in six years.” sam catches onto how your doe up your eyes again, chuckling when it comes back to her how you’re repeating the same tactic all those years ago when you wanted to appear innocent and crime-free whenever you ate the whole jar of cookies.
“the doe eyes give you away, you know,” sam announces,  swallowing thickly at your eyes longer doe-like and silting back into a sultry gaze.” it’s the truth, i miss you, and wanna talk to you, just us.” you insist and ignore her statement, sam believing you half hearty. running a hand up her neck sam opts to just nod and allow you both to fall into a conversation about haps after she left and how you ended up in new york, skimming away from the ghostface topic.
“do you remember how jealous and possessive i was of you back then,” you suddenly ask, dulling the mindless small talk with your question breaking the ice into a deep layer of something sam doesn’t wanna know, she doesn’t wanna know what game you’re playing, or if she’s simply imagining it.” god, i use to hate it so much when you had to watch wes and the twins on the days i got you, i wanted it to be only you and i all the time.” sam stares at you intently, wondering if you’re trying to motion what sam is thinking, slowly she nods.
“my sammy,” you whisper the old phase you constantly use to whine out whenever sam’s attention was on another kid, but this time it wasn’t said in a virtuous and childish cute way like it once was back then. taking a deep breath, sam shakes her head.”y/n,” sam warns and ignores the way her member  twitches in her pants from the nickname spilling out of your mouth and in that needy, whiny tone.”you’re a still a kid to me.” sam expresses gently while her cock seems to think completely differently, dancing around to find a way not to outright reject you and acknowledge what you’re currently trying to initiate. the gilt in your eyes fade and your lips tugs in a frown.
“you still see me as your pretty princess?” dismissing her outwardly rejection to the skimmed tension you’re growing, hesitant, sam nods at you, too flustered to speak at the hatching of the old pet-name she use to call you.”you never use to deny your princess before.” your lips quirk upwards in a playful smile, your eyes still dejected some. sam breathes in a shaky breath.”anything but that.” sam forces herself with her reply, locking away the monster in her that so badly wants to pursue your commences, but she won’t allow it and will continue to fight against the urge.
your eyes dart acord sam’s face, trying to find any detail of deceitful to her words, you know she wasn’t being honestly completely as she was the same one looking up your skirt today. you open your mouth to speak before the booming voice of chad clashes the hushed room in tow with tara and mindy, separating yourself from sam abruptly and falling into conversation with the three.
sam sighs tiredly on the couch, drained by the situation and sexually frustrated. overwhelmed with wanting one thing her morals won’t allow her to do. biting her bottom lip at your upper body spills downwards, leaning on the island in the kitchen, your smooth skin on display with that annoying little tiny thong all out in the open and your ass pushed out right in her view, your eyes lifting up to meet hers, following her gaze to where it’s potently on your ass, your lips curling into a grin before turning back to your conversation with mindy.
sam a had feeling that this situation won’t flame out like her morals would hope for but will emerge into something bigger since she got red handed staring at something she shouldn’t have, and now she will ultimately pay the price for it one way or the other.
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“so what college are you guys going to?”
chad’s month too engrossed in the food to reply with his arm around tara as he tries to mumble out incompetent answer, mindy’s face twisting in disgust at her twin’s lack of decorum, opting to answer.”blackmore, where are you attending y/n?”
“columbia university.” mindy whistles sharply, somewhat stilling your heed away from sam at the barbecue pit in your  angled visual of her, her skin radiant and sheeny from the humid heat of the city and the flames of the fire pit. her arms strained and pressing on her muscles in her light gray tank top. embarrassing so the mere view sends an ache between your thighs.
the action of mindy’s seems to grabs sam’s attention as she spares a look at the table you four are occupying, her gazes staying on you longer for a moment before going back to grilling the burgers, thankfully enough you’re dressed up in a simple yellow sundress and a lack of skin showing this time around, but the blaze of arousal still burns sam’s thoughts and skin, somehow the modest sundress ardors more desire than any other skimpy outfit you’ve wore in her presence. wiping the sweat off her warm skin, dropping the cheeseburgers into the tin tupperware and placing them down onto the table for everyone.
“seriously though i never remembered your family being so loaded,” tara joins into the conversation, confused at your  wealth status she never noticed, mindy snickers.”did you forget how huge y/n’s house was back in woodsboro.” mindy deadpans. the banter nuzzles out of your hearing as sam takes a seat right in front of you, reaching out for a plate before you hastily stand up and grabbing one for her.
“I’ll fix it for you,” stopping in her tracks, flickering her eyes towards you and your soft gesture, sam nods stiffly, letting out a quiet ‘thank you.’ her dark eyes intense while she watches you shuffle around to grab everything to ready her plate, throwing ice cubes into a cup and some soda before placing the dish and cup in front of sam gently, clenching her jaw as she feels herself slipping again to the venereal flame you keep lighting in her; or what she likes to tell herself to escape from the shame, or the guilt that the more she’s around you the less she’s starting to feel shame at her desire and thoughts about you, her temptation for you pressing more and more against the door she’s trying to keep it locked in, the rural of her father sins of darkness, she thinks, it has to be. no other sane person would be holding a child they once use to take care, watch and protect from harm’s way, in a lustfully way of mind.
thanking you and taking a bite of her food, eyeing you return to your seat and rejoining the chatter of whatever her sister and the twins are discussing, picking up your vanilla milkshake and stirring the spoon to gather before wrapping your lips around the top, making sure to contain eye contact while doing so, the white substance all over your mouth and the edges of your lips as you slide the spoon from your tongue, sam’s eyes tracking every movement as your lips lick the leftover mess behind, a mess sam desperately wishes was her cum, leaking out around the corners of your mouth after she spilled her load down your throat.
the thought makes sam spiral, her head cloudy as she aggressively chews the burger to contain herself from jumping up from her seat to grab you, taking you back into your room, throwing you onto your bed and screwing you into your mattress. you laugh softly, scanning sam’s sudden tense and strained body language, edging a goad smile and turning your  focus away from sam after getting somewhat of a reaction from the tall brunette.
sam narrows her dark eyes at you, realizing the true intent of what that vanilla shake is for; maybe you were the girl samantha would read to and cook mac and cheese for, but you were definitely not the same innocent girl she would call princesa, at least sam has a feeling the nickname will not be regarded in the same light for you anymore, and maybe same applies for her.
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toournextadventure · 4 months
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a novel life pt.2
Summary: You're trying to make nice with Sam's little sister, for everyone's sake. Maybe it leads to an interrogation. Maybe it leads to more. And maybe you end up sucked into the unusual events that follow Legacies
Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, distrust, mentions of past trauma, mentions of blood, mentions of Scream typical violence Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Yule, and whatever holidays y'all all celebrate 🫶 (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4)
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“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked as you nearly tripped over your feet.
Sam gave you a look that was both sweet and condescending. “Yes, because I said so.”
“That doesn’t seem like solid reasoning,” you mumbled, but nonetheless continued following her up the steps to her apartment.
It was nearing Halloween, with the cooling air finally allowing for the use of jackets. Which you had few of, since Sam had decided to keep them for herself. Not that there was anyone to blame but yourself; it was what you deserved for offering her jackets every time she forgot one. She had simply decided it was rather nice to have an unlimited selection of jackets, both too-large and just right.
In all her wisdom, Sam had suggested the two of you, and Tara and her partner have a movie night. Tara got to choose the movie, and no one could object. All in all it should have been a win for the younger Carpenter; she could make you suffer if she truly wanted, and you couldn’t say a word about it. Which was going to cause the night to be very, very long.
Oh, the things you would do for her.
“Is she going to pick something scary?” You asked before you both approached the door. “Because I don’t like scary.”
“I have no doubt it will be scary,” Sam said with a barely-concealed smile. “I’ll hold your hand to keep you safe.”
“You’re my hero,” you said as you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips. She tasted strongly of the cigarette she had smoked on the way from your apartment to hers.
You tried to pull away, but she quickly followed, keeping her lips pressed against yours. Every sense was enveloped by her. Her smell, her taste, the feel of her body pressed against yours so tightly it was as if you would float away without her. There was nothing you could have ever wanted more than your Sam.
“We shouldn’t give Tara something to be upset about,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips when she finally pulled back just the slightest distance.
“Tara’s always upset,” she answered before sighing, “but you’re right.”
“Baby steps,” you said with a smile.
“For the big baby.”
“Samantha.”
“I’m kidding,” she tried to argue as she grabbed your hand and started finally moving into the apartment.
You both knew she wasn’t kidding.
“My dude!”
You had barely walked through the door when Tara’s partner called out to you, a genuine, toothy grin visible on their face. They had asked you to call them J, which you had happily agreed to. Sam teased that it was short for Joker - you assumed because of the scars - but the look on Tara’s face told you not to ever bring it up. Ever.
It was a rule you could oblige by.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” you said as you hung your coat on the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. It had only taken you dropping your coat once before you realised the Carpenters saw no need for a coat rack.
How utterly uncivilised.
“They think it’s a pleasure to see me,” J said to Tara, who rolled her eyes almost instantly. 
You would never say it aloud, but you noticed the small smile she sent their way. So, she wasn’t as heartless as she wanted you to believe. Exactly like her older sister. It would be simple enough to chalk it down to their past experiences with the world; it had taught them nothing but hardness. But maybe they both just needed a safe space to let those walls come down.
“What did you choose?” Sam asked. She very quickly made her way to the couch opposite Tara and J.
“Depends,” they said.
“On?” Sam asked.
J turned to look at you and held something up to their mouth. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice came out almost robotic, sounding similar to… something you possibly recognised? Vaguely?
“That’s not funny,” Sam said quickly.
“Lighten up, Sam,” Tara said even though she pushed J’s hand - and the voice changer - into their lap. “We’re watching Hellraiser.”
“Thought you didn’t like that one,” Sam said. She reached over and grabbed your hand the moment you sat down beside her on the couch.
Tara’s eyes darted to where your hands were joined and lingered. “I don’t.” She looked back up at you with a hard gaze. “I picked it out just for you.”
“Oh,” you said, perking up instantly. “Thank you.”
You turned to look at Sam with a stupid smile on your face, missing the look J sent Tara. Well, this was turning into a lovely evening! Tara had picked out a movie just for you! Surely that was progress to the finest degree, was it not? If all it took was watching a movie with them every month, you were more than happy to do so. This was turning out to be a rather lovely evening.
At least you thought so until the movie started and you realised just exactly why Tara had picked the movie out just for you.
It was… well, it was a movie. Filled with hooks and needles and… blood. Oh gosh, so much blood. There was a singular blessing amongst it all; you hadn’t eaten before coming over. Thankfully the popcorn sat untouched between you and Sam as your stomach twisted and turned and tried its best to embarrass you.
Sam squeezed your hand as you did your best to keep your cool. Not that it was such an easy thing with all the… you couldn’t even think the word without feeling queasy. Surely there was no way they all enjoyed this kind of thing, right? It was grotesque! The creatures on the screen, the inhumanity of it all, how was it an enjoyable movie?
The room started to shrink around you. Oh, that wasn’t good, you didn’t want to feel claustrophobic, you were trying to be tough. You couldn’t let anyone know that you had an, um, aversion to blood. What would they say? They were all horror fans, how could you ever possibly mention that you just… didn’t enjoy it? Quite frankly, it made you sick to your stomach, like all those science experiments you had to do back in grade school.
The credits couldn’t have rolled a moment too soon. If anyone were to ask you what you thought, you wouldn’t have been able to answer. The only thing you were aware of was your heart beating loudly in your ear and the saliva that continued to fill your mouth. Maybe it would actually be better if you didn’t try to answer anyone for a few more moments.
“So, Professor,” Tara asked all too soon. “What did you think?”
“I-”
-You cut yourself short. There was a part, a rather significant part of your mind that said you should lie. Tell Tara it was a wonderful movie, and you would love to see more if it existed. But lying had never gotten you anywhere in the past, had it? It certainly wasn’t going to assist you in winning over Tara, not when she was already sceptical of you. How was a lie going to assist you?
It wasn’t. 
“It’s not my cup of tea,” you finally said before swallowing the remaining saliva in your mouth. “I don’t really enjoy scary movies.” You nodded to yourself. “Or blood.”
“Oh my god,” Tara huffed, “why can’t you just lose your shit about something?”
“Tara,” Sam warned.
“No, this is ridiculous,” she continued as she stood up from the couch, ignoring J reaching for her hand. “Why can’t you lose your shit?” She pointed at you. “Nobody is this level-headed about everything.”
“That’s enough,” Sam said as she followed suit, standing up from the couch. Similarly, you reached out for her hand but she moved just far enough away.
“Get out,” Tara said before promptly looking Sam dead in the eyes.
“Excuse me?” Sam asked.
“Get out,” she repeated.
“Hey, T-”
“-You too,” Tara interrupted J, who froze with a comically shocked expression on their face. “Both of you get out so I can talk to them-” she pointed at you “-alone.”
“Absolutely not-”
“-Sounds reasonable,” you interrupted Sam. She looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would love to talk.”
“Come on, Baby Ghost,” J said as they stood up. You were starting to feel left out by being the only one still sitting. “I’ll buy you a new pack of cigs.”
Sam looked like she wanted to argue, but both you and Tara gave her a look. Differing looks, of course, but still. While Tara seemed to get her a death stare that was almost permanently etched onto her face, you tried to go the more convincing route. If Tara wanted to talk, who were you to tell her no? Talking was key, that’s what your family had always done and it had never ended poorly.
“Fine,” Sam finally said. She seemed resigned. “But you have 15 minutes and that’s it.”
“Deal,” Tara said. “Now get out.”
You stayed as still as a statue when Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. A little more forceful than usual, but you wouldn’t complain. Any kiss from her was perfect. A sigh came from behind her, and you both knew who it was from, but she took her time before pulling away and standing back up.
“Don’t let her bully you,” she said.
“Sam,” Tara said forcefully. “Get out.”
“Fine,” Sam said, throwing her hands up. “But I mean it,” she said as she and J walked to the door together. “15 minutes.”
You and Tara both watched your partners leave the apartment, practically abandoning you to the force of nature that was the youngest Carpenter sister. It shamed you to admit you were a little afraid of her. You knew there was something going on deep down that she either wouldn’t or couldn’t accept, and you wouldn’t dare fault her for it. But she let her internal frustrations out in a very external way.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tara asked the moment the door shut behind the two. You stayed silent. “You don’t yell, you don’t scream, you don’t even freak out when I put on a movie I knew you would hate.”
You waited a moment to make sure she was finished. “I was raised by two very… pacifistic parents,” you said, gesturing for her to sit on the couch opposite you. “We talked through our issues, we didn’t yell about them.”
Tara opened her mouth as if she was about to argue, or complain, or something. Slowly, her mouth closed and she pursed her lips. She kept looking at you, but slowly took a seat opposite you. There was something going on behind her eyes, you could see it, but you knew better than to question her just yet. Just like your mom had taught you; let them lead the conversation.
“I don’t trust you,” she said slowly. Her eyes stayed locked with yours. “You’re too understanding and too kind.” You stayed silent. “Sam only ever falls for freaks.”
“Didn’t she date an FBI agent?” You asked. You could vaguely remember what Sam had said about her, but she had seemed nice enough.
“Kirby is cool, I’ve always liked her,” Tara said with a dismissive shake of her head. “But she was attacked by Ghostface twice,” she said, “so she’s a freak by proxy.” She looked back at you. “So what’s your deal?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said, “ask your questions and maybe you can find out.”
It had initially been your idea, but before Tara could even open her mouth you started to second guess yourself. Perhaps allowing her to ask whatever questions she wanted without any repercussions was… not the smartest idea on your part. You had nothing to hide, but what if she really started to ask unusual questions? What if your answers weren’t what she wanted to hear?
But when you thought of Sam, and being with her, you felt that, without question, it was worth the gamble.
“Have you ever used a knife?” Tara asked quickly. It seemed she wasn’t going to wait.
“Not outside of cooking,” you answered just as quickly.
“How about a gun?” So, it would be a rapid fire interrogation. Game on.
“Never.”
“Ever hurt anybody before?” A tilt of her head.
“Not on purpose.”
“What about animals?”
“No.”
“Not even in science class?”
“I-” you attempted to clear your throat to buy a bit of time “-I fell ill that day.”
Tara paused and narrowed her eyes. “Because of blood.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” you said anyway. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You’re pretty pathetic,” Tara said as she leaned back on the couch. For the first time in… well, ever, you thought you almost saw her smile at you. “That’s exactly Sam’s type.”
“I thought you said it was freaks,” you pointed out.
“Pathetic freaks,” she corrected quickly. That quirk near the corner of her mouth rapidly disappeared. “Why did you choose Sam?”
You paused. It was uncertain what exactly Sam had told Tara about you both meeting. Surely she wouldn’t have overdramatised it, but had she told her the truth? The truth was… well, it was pathetic as well, but you weren’t entirely convinced Tara would approve. Not that it was entirely her place, but the two were the only family each other had. They both had a right to be cautious of anyone new coming into their lives.
But perhaps you could answer the question a little differently.
“She’s kind,” you said with a subconscious nod of your head. “And bold, and intelligent - god she’s intelligent - and brave.” You averted Tara’s eyes. “And she’s really pretty too.”
Tara nodded once. “What are your intentions with her?”
Another question that you believed was potentially a trick. You couldn’t very well say you loved Sam just yet; you hadn’t even told Sam that little piece of information. But there were other intentions with her even if you didn’t necessarily use the word “love.” There were other things that were just as important.
“I don’t want to sound overly self-important,” you started off, looking back up to meet Tara’s eyes. “But I would very much like to be the one by Sam’s side as she continues on this path she’s created for herself.”
Tara looked at you; really looked at you. She was so very difficult for you to read. Unlike Sam, Tara did a better job at hiding her emotions. While Sam would give it away with her facial expressions, Tara did not. No, her feelings came out differently, whether in the slight twitch of her fingers or the impatient tapping of her foot on the rug. You hadn’t been around her long enough to know what exactly those feelings were, you simply acknowledged they were feelings.
“I’ll give you a chance,” Tara finally said, her voice far softer than you had ever heard. At least when it was directed at you. “But if you do anything to hurt her, or upset her, or lie to her, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” You gulped. “I’m not afraid to kill again.”
“I forgot you’ve both killed someone before,” you mumbled to yourself before speaking up louder. “Those are acceptable terms.”
“Good,” she said with a single nod of her head. “But don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you.”
You could both hear the other two finally approaching the door, bickering in a way that mimicked biological siblings.
“I would expect nothing less,” you told Tara as the door opened and the moment ended.
—---
The rest of the semester went by without incident. Tara had stayed true to her word and gave you a fair chance to prove that you could be trusted with her sister’s heart, and it wasn’t something you had taken lightly. You knew how important the both of them were to each other, and you had done your best to prove that not only did you care for Sam, but you cared for Tara too.
She had finally eased up during classes, allowing you to properly teach without an ounce of disdain for you personally. In fact, she had even dared to come to office hours on more than one occasion to discuss certain pieces you had offered as optional readings. The Carpenters were immensely intelligent, no matter what the subject matter was.
You and Sam had fallen into a rather comfortable routine, always going for a date night on Thursdays to whatever new place your colleagues had recommended, and movies with Tara and J on Saturdays. You would spend the night at her place Thursday through Monday morning, and she would stay at yours Monday through Thursday morning. It was comfortable, and you were more than content.
But with school finally over for the semester, you could focus on the real gem; Christmas.
Both Carpenters - and J, for that matter - had been nonchalant with their decorations. A minimal Charlie Brown tree that had, at most, four ornaments on it. It was awfully quaint, and if they hadn’t been so blase about it you would have been content to leave it standing. Nevertheless, they had made it clear they didn’t care if there were any decorations, and you had taken that as a cry for help.
Your own apartment had, of course, been decorated since the day after Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful gift from your mother, learning how to decorate for the holidays, and you weren’t keen on squandering the skills and letting them fall off the wagon, so to speak. Sam had made a few comments, though you hadn’t taken her for a non-believer.
“It’s okay, really,” Sam tried to say when you and J finished bringing in what had to have been the seventh box of decorations from your apartment.
“Oh no, I insist,” you said with a smile. “Besides, my mother would be downright dismayed if she knew the decorations were sitting in my apartment unused.”
“Great,” Tara mumbled as she walked by without even offering to help, “we get to live at the North Pole.”
“Isn’t it exciting?” You said with a smile. “These are more neutral, so you shouldn’t feel too out of place, but they still embody the holiday spirit.”
“Well I think it’ll be fun,” J said with their own smile. “Do I get to hang the ornaments?”
“Why-”
“-the ornaments won’t be the only thing hanging this Christmas,” Tara said, tossing a mini marshmallow into the air and catching it in her mouth. “Especially with those blinding lights.”
You looked down at the ones in your hand and frowned. “I thought they were rather tame.”
“And they’re lovely,” Sam tried to cover, even though you could see the fake smile she had on her face. “You’re doing great,” she continued as she left a simple kiss on your cheek.
The decorating ended up being a one person job, you quickly realised when you discovered J could not, for the life of them, listen to instructions. More than once, the lights had been blown and you had to find the faulty one to fix it. Normally you would chalk it down to bad luck, but when it was only the ones that they were installing? You became a little suspicious.
At least they were all eager to help with the snacks and desserts, and that was something you could live with. Surprisingly, Tara was the one who had the most ideas. You knew you weren’t the best cook; you could follow instructions but that didn’t necessarily mean they would turn out nice. But with Tara at the helm? They were almost as good as your mother’s! Though obviously you would never dare to tell her that.
You also rather quickly discovered that they were not gift giving people. Understandable, you supposed, they had much more important things to worry about in life. It was still unacceptable. The moment you had found out, you had called your parents and told them the tragic news.
Gifts for all three of them - plus a gift each for Mindy, Chad, and Anika - had been delivered to your house within the week. Express shipping to be certain they would arrive before Christmas.
Which led to yet another tragedy; they had no stockings.
“It’s really not worth buying,” Sam attempted to persuade you over the phone on one of the rare nights you two weren’t spending together. “Just stay home tonight.”
“It’s no trouble, Sam,” you argued. “I’m heading out for a bit anyway.”
You didn’t admit you were already at the store, trying to decide which one would fit each person best.
“Just stay safe,” she said. You could hear car horns in the background but thought nothing of it. “I mean it.”
“I’ll be safe,” you insisted, “I always am.”
“Call me when you’re back home,” she said.
“Yes ma’am,” you said with a smile that she couldn’t see.
She hung up first, and you continued your search without any second thoughts. In the end, you had decided on a Santa stocking for J, a reindeer for Tara, and a snowman for Sam. They would look lovely hanging underneath the mounted television in their living room. But with the stockings, you needed things to fill them with.
Santa’s work was never finished.
It was dark by the time you finished buying everything you believed you needed. Stockings, fillers, and some snacks to make for a lovely evening. That should surely be enough to give the three of them a very merry Christmas, would it not? Your mother had already sent their Santa presents, and their other presents were underneath the tree, so as far as you were aware of at the moment, everything was taken care of.
You were still going over your mental checklist when you heard a commotion down one of the alleys on the way home. Every cell in your body told you not to bother looking; people got desperate around the holidays and it would do you no good to go poking your head where it didn’t belong. But if someone was getting hurt, then you needed to attempt to help.
Or at least make enough of a scene that someone else would come help.
“Excuse me?” You called out foolishly as you started down the dark alleyway. “Is everyone alright out there?”
You pulled your coat tighter around you as you continued walking. It hadn’t been raining or snowing recently, and yet something started to soak through your shoes and socks. The shocking cold that normally came from liquids in December wasn’t present; it was warm.
There was another noise. It almost sounded like something solid, but it was overshadowed by something metallic. You did your best to see something in the dark, even as your body continued to tell you to move along. But something didn’t feel right; you were feeling queasy again.
Something hissed in front of you, but it wasn’t a snake. No, you knew what those sounded like and this wasn’t even close. This sounded much more human, though that sound would only ever really happen in dire circumstances like if-
-a large white mask faced you. It was the only thing you could see in the dark, thanks to the lights behind you causing just enough radiance to make the mask almost seem luminescent. You weren’t a movie buff, especially not scary movies, but you weren’t stupid. Everyone knew what that mask was.
Ghostface.
All those cells that had been telling you to run? They were silent. Frozen in fear, just like your mind. The killer wasn’t moving toward you, simply facing you, almost as if it was the very reason you were stationary. Which, it was, but not in the typical way that most would be privy to. You felt like a deer in headlights, and if you moved then you died.
You supposed that was how all the movies went.
“Aren’t you going to run?” Ghostface asked, in that same voicebox that J had had during the movie night.
You swallowed the saliva filling your mouth. “No,” you said in a trembling voice.
“Why not?” He continued. “I like when they run.”
“I’m not very fast,” you said. “You’ll catch me before I get to the street.”
He still didn’t move, and your eyes finally adjusted enough to see the silhouette of a body slumped at his feet. Your throat constricted at the sight; you were going to be sick. The very image started to worm its way into your brain; there was a very simple explanation for what was still soaking through your socks. It wasn’t snow.
“You should get home, Professor,” Ghostface said.
You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if he could see you. “Yes I should.”
“Stay on the sidewalk next time,” he said.
“I- I believe that’s sound advice,” you said with more frantic nods of your head. Your palms were starting to get clammy.
Ghostface lifted up a hand - holding a knife - and waved. “Good night, Professor.”
“Good night,” you said with your own shaky wave.
You walked backwards out of the alley, keeping an eye on the figure until it was completely out of sight. Your feet were frozen on the ground once you were under a street light. There were no more sounds coming from the alley, not even the sound of someone leaving. Wherever Ghostface had gone, he hadn’t followed you.
In an incredibly brave moment, you leaned over and vomited directly into a storm grate before going back home. You called Sam the moment you got back into your apartment.
You couldn’t find the courage to inform her of the night’s mystery encounter.
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kaisacobra · 3 months
Text
A Step Into the Future - Sam Carpenter
Summary: A cuddly morning with your girlfriend Sam turns into a conversation about your future.
Warnings: None, just pure fluff.
Word Count: 1.8k
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You were never particularly religious, but in moments like these, when everything was calm and you were in the arms of the person you loved most in the world, you truly felt like you were in heaven.
Soft snores reaching your ears and a warm, slow breath on your neck had become your favorite alarm clock. It was worth waking up earlier just to have the sight of your girlfriend peacefully sleeping beside you, in one of those rare moments when her expression wasn't burdened with worries and a sense of alertness.
Moving slowly to avoid waking her up, you raised your arm to her sculpted face and brushed some strands of hair aside, wanting to get a complete view of Sam's face. The way the sunlight seeped through a crack in the curtain illuminated Sam perfectly, giving you a breathtaking sight.
Samantha Carpenter was the greatest work of art you had ever seen. A face like a Botticelli painting, a body like a Michelangelo sculpture, a voice like a siren's song, and a heart kept like a precious jewel.
Your thoughts spoke louder, and you allowed yourself to gently slide a finger over the soft skin of the bridge of the woman's nose, finding it adorable when she involuntarily wrinkled her nose in response. You enjoyed being able to take pride in recognizing Sam's subtle signs, having carefully studied her reactions throughout the early stages of your relationship. This allowed you to notice certain things, like the change in the rhythm of her breathing, even if she pretended to still be asleep.
"Darling?" You whispered as softly as you could, just in case you had misread your analysis and your girlfriend was actually asleep.
But soon your theory was proven correct when Sam let out a husky grunt and hugged your torso with both arms, trapping you in a grip that honestly didn't bother you at all. She shifted in bed until she rested her head on your chest, releasing a sigh of contentment when satisfied with the proximity.
You gave a small smile and began playing with her hair without thinking too much. Some time ago, at the beginning of the relationship, you used to wonder if Sam would ever let you get close for real. Now, you knew that no one who knew her would believe you if you said the older Carpenter was like a cuddly kitten that complained if she wasn't touching you at every possible minute.
The peaceful silence was interrupted for a moment by a loud complaint from Sam's stomach, who quickly moved to bury her face in the crook of your neck. "No," she spoke firmly but with a voice laden with playfulness and drowsiness.
"No, what?" You laughed, letting her get more comfortable beside you, even if it meant she was two steps away from being on top of you.
Sam lifted her head just enough for her voice not to be muffled. You couldn't see her face clearly due to the position, but you could identify her still-closed eyes. "You were going to suggest getting up for breakfast. My answer is no."
"But, darling..." You laughed again, amused at how a just-awakened Sam was practically a stubborn child. "You're hungry, aren't you? I can go make a quick breakfast and come back to be with you."
Your girlfriend made a protesting noise and held you tighter in her arms, as if you were planning to escape at any moment. Of course, you weren't going to complain, after all, there was no more perfect place in the world than Sam's arms. She shook her head slightly. "You're forbidden to leave. We'll cook something later, together."
"Forbidden?" You chuckled. "By whom, exactly?"
"By me, your amazing girlfriend."
You laughed a bit more and decided to gently stroke Sam's scalp, feeling the woman slowly soften under your touch again. That had to be one of your greatest achievements—the fact that Sam trusted you so much to allow herself to be vulnerable, even if it didn't come naturally to her anymore.
She shifted a bit more, this time wrapping her legs around yours. "I could do this for the rest of my life, you know?"
Vulnerability and even a hint of embarrassment shone through Sam's voice, and although you couldn't see her face completely, you could see a part of her cheek starting to turn red. Adorable, you would say.
"Hold onto me like a koala?" You teased, feeling her lightly pinch your arm in retaliation. She muttered a curse in Spanish, and the warm breath from her mouth hit a sensitive area of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
Fortunately (or unfortunately), Sam seemed too sleepy to notice your reactions and tease you back. Instead, she spoke again slowly, as if sharing a huge secret. "No, idiot. This. Waking up with you by my side, every day."
"Oh." You responded with great eloquence, feeling your entire body heat up and butterflies flutter in your stomach as if you were the protagonist of a teenage romance. Sam wasn't one to express love with words much, but when she did, you could barely contain yourself from looking like a smitten fool. "I could do that forever too. Truly become your family."
Your trembling voice betrayed how much you had wanted to have this kind of conversation for a while, even if you were leaving the actual meaning implicit. Still, you knew Sam would understand what you were trying to say.
"You already are family. We don't need to get married for that." She spoke, but soon realizing how her words sounded a bit harsh, she moved back a bit and locked eyes with you, your faces just a few inches apart. "Not that I don't want to get married! I do. Someday. But you don't have to wait until then to feel like part of the family."
Once again, a small party seemed to settle inside you with Sam's words and the sight of her in front of you, her face flushed with shyness and the admission that she envisions a future with you. Taking advantage of the closeness, you cupped her face with one hand. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."
You're welcome. The words hung implicitly in the air as she turned her face just enough to kiss the palm of your hand. Sam's brown eyes were still small due to sleepiness, but they already sparkled like the most beautiful jewel you had ever seen. You felt very lucky.
Seizing the opportunity, you decided to delve a bit further into the subject. "Would you like to expand this family with me? In the future, of course."
Sam squirmed a bit, and you knew she was reluctant to think about that answer. You started to gently stroke her jaw with your thumb, trying to calm her and convey the message that you would be okay with whatever answer she gave.
"I kinda already have three kids, you know?" She said with humor, and you opened a smile in response. It was true that Sam was very protective of her sister, Tara, and the two twins, Mindy and Chad. You could see how much she cared for them and how hard she worked to make sure she could provide some of the things they liked.
"Oh yes, how could I forget?" You replied still humorously, and you were ready to let the subject drop there, not wanting to pressure your girlfriend into anything. However, Sam seemed not to have finished her train of thought.
She bit her lip, looking hesitant. "It's just that... I don't have the best history with my parents, as you know. And I don't have the best overall history, damn, I don't even have a degree, and..."
"Hey, hey. One step at a time, okay?" You reassured her, placing a kiss on her forehead that made her release a relieved sigh. "Firstly, you're not like your parents, no matter what you think. Secondly, it's not too late to start college if that's what you want."
"No, it's not possible." Sam shook her head, looking away to your collarbone with some shame. "I have to work to pay for the apartment rent and also support me and Tara. I don't have time for that."
You frowned and held the Carpenter's chin, making her look at you. Even embarrassed, Sam could still be intimidating enough, and her gaze gave you the same feeling of being struck by lightning, as if electricity ran through your veins every time your eyes met. "I could help you if you wanted."
"No. It's not your obli-"
"I'm not being forced to do anything." You cut her off, shaking your head and smiling to show that you were serious. "You know I have a well-paying internship. I could move here, share the bills and a room with you. It would be less burdensome, and you could work just one job and use the rest of the time to study. What do you think?"
Sam seemed to be in an internal battle, looking at you with admiration and trying to fight back the tears that were on the brink of her eyes. She reached out to caress your face. "You don't have to do this."
"I would like to." You reassured her, pulling her closer to envelop her waist in a hug. "Besides, I'd finally get rid of that small dorm and my weird roommate."
Sam scowled, her voice laden with jealousy. "You mean that flirt who's always hitting on you? You know, I'm starting to think it really is a good idea for you to move in, maybe now that bitch will understand that you're taken."
You laughed at Sam's indignation but didn't say anything to disagree. She was right, after all. At the end of the day, you were very well taken, and you were perfectly fine with that. The sunlight streaming into the room through the curtains seemed a bit brighter now, and although you didn't want to burst your bubble of happiness with Sam, you really needed to start preparing for the day ahead.
She seemed to read your mind, as she always did, given the connection between you two, and just nodded in agreement, a sign that she also agreed to get up and shake off the laziness.
In a last moment of calm, Sam approached you and spread small kisses over your chin, cheeks, and forehead, finally stopping at your mouth and kissing you with true love and affection, creating not only a physical connection but also a connection of souls. You embraced the contact, responding to the kiss with the same passion, forgetting about anything else but Sam's lips.
As she pulled away, Sam smiled contentedly. Her hair messy because of the bed, red puffy lips, and eyes with sleep residue didn't prevent you from seeing her as the most beautiful woman you had ever seen on Earth. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too." You whispered back, your voice laden with emotion.
You didn't know what to expect from the future, but one thing was certain. Whatever it was, you would have Sam Carpenter, and Sam Carpenter would have you.
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Text
Samantha // Sam Carpenter
request: none!
prompts: none!
summary: being with sam has brought you nothing but happiness, and these memories with her only prove how perfect the two of you are for each other.
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, brief allusions to smut, language, mentions of roachie kirsch
word count: 1.9k
a/n: fem!reader, i was gonna make it gn!reader but the song this fic is based on is sapphic so i felt like i should keep it that way, no ghostface au
join my taglist! album masterlist!
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I think I've been yours since 4th grade
We met in 5th, you corrected me
From my bed, and I said
Technically since 2nd but I reckon the time has just flown by and my
Memory's shit, so
You smiled to yourself as you gazed at your girlfriend, Sam, who was currently asleep beside you. Despite your protests, she had claimed that she wasn’t too tired to watch a movie like the two of you had been planning. And yet, not even half an hour in, she was fast asleep on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder as she curled up beside you. No matter how many times you looked at her, you could never get over how beautiful she was.
For as long as you could remember, Sam was always there. You had gone to elementary school together, and finally became friends during middle school. High school and college came and went, and the two of you continued to grow impossibly closer. Sometimes it was hard to tell where you ended and where she began. And as time went on, feelings began to change, and the friendship between the two of you started to become something more. 
Falling in love with someone that you had known for so long was indescribable. There was no awkward talking stage or embarrassing first dates. Everything just felt so natural. So right. Like she was the only person you would ever need, and she had already been there the whole time. You draped your arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to you, taking the blanket that was lying on your lap and placing it over her.
You grabbed the remote and turned the movie off. You could always just finish it some other time. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before resting your head on top of hers.
“Goodnight, my love.”
But all I ever remember is you
And all I ever say is "I miss you more"
You're everything that I ever knew
You're the only girl that I am for
“I’m the first girl you’ve ever been with, right? Is it any different from being with a guy?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked over at Sam.
She nodded, a smile breaking out on her face. “It’s so different. And so much better. You actually know how to listen and you’re so much more affectionate.” The smile on her face turned into a teasing smirk. “Plus, you actually know how to make me cum.”
Your face heated up in a blush, her comment flustering you instantly. You grabbed a pillow from beside you on the couch, chucking it at her as an embarrassed laugh fell from your lips.
“Sam!” you scolded, giggles still spilling from your mouth in disbelief.
She shrugged before throwing the pillow right back at you. “What? It’s true! I’m pretty sure Richie didn’t even think the clit was real.”
You let out another snort of laughter. “God, I still can’t believe you ever even dated him. You can do so much better than that… thing.”
“I am doing better. I have you.”
Samantha, I'm in love with you
I'll do anything you ask me to
You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue
Samantha, I'm in love with you
And I'll sing it again and again
“Oh my god! What did you do to your hair?!” Sam asked, a disbelieving smile on her face as she struggled to hold back her laughter.
You had attempted to dye your hair blue to surprise her, since she had always been very fond of the color. You thought it might’ve made her happy, to have another one of her favorite things to associate with you. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been the best in picking the color. You were hoping for something more subtle, the kind of blue that looked black, with the colorful hue only visible in the light. What you ended up with was a bright and vibrant color, bordering on neon. You were upset, understandably so, and Sam’s joyful laughter at your predicament did nothing to ease your frustration.
 “It was supposed to be a surprise. You said that blue was your favorite color, so I thought I’d dye my hair blue. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright!” you huffed, leaning back against the bathroom counter as you pouted.
“You look like a smurf threw up on you!” 
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Ha ha. Very funny. Can you help me? There’s gotta be some way to fix this.”
She nodded, walking over to you. “Alright, let’s see what I can do. This color is probably not gonna come out, so we’re gonna have to dye it black.”
You frowned as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “At least we can match.”
She smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Or, we could always just shave it off.”
The look on your face alone was enough to send Sam into another fit of laughter. You glared at her, trying to seem angry or at least even a little bit annoyed, but you couldn’t ever hold it together around her that long. Her smile was contagious and her laughter was infectious. Just being around her had a way of lifting your mood. But you wouldn’t want it any other way.
There aren't words to describe
The way I feel about your eyes
And everything I write sounds cliche, but
I can't help that I think about you every day
“Why’re you staring at me? Is there something on my face?” Sam asked, reaching up to her mouth to see if some of her lunch was still left on her skin.
You simply smiled and shook your head. “No, nothing’s there. You’re just so beautiful. How could I not stare at you?”
Though she tried to hide it, you could see the faint blush spreading on her cheeks and that flustered smile of hers that never failed to fill your insides with a swarm of butterflies. You reached out and took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as you smiled over at her. You pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, causing the faint blush on her cheeks to deepen ever so slightly, filling you with a sense of pride. 
“I love you. You know that, right?” you asked, your smile never once faltering. 
“Of course I do. You only tell me like every five seconds.” She smiled over at you. “Not that I mind it in the slightest.”
“I just still can’t believe that I’m with you. That we’re together. It feels like a dream. You’re just so perfect. Like every single thing I could’ve ever wanted in a partner, all rolled up into one person.”
She rolled her eyes, her smile never leaving her face. “Oh please. I am far from perfect. If anything, you’re the perfect one here. I mean you put up with all my shit. Just being able to do that is perfect enough.”
“I do not put up with you. I love everything about you and I love being with you. Despite what you may think about yourself, you are not difficult to be with. Richie just couldn’t handle all your perfectness and awesomemazingness.”
She raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s not a word”
You shrugged, smiling defiantly. “Well, it should be. Because it describes you perfectly.”
“Oh does it now?”
“It does.”
Before Sam could respond, you leaned in and pulled her into a kiss, silencing any other protests about to leave her lips. You knew she was perfect, and even if she didn’t agree with you, you could damn well at least stop her from voicing those thoughts. And you knew that one day, you would convince her.
And every night
And every morning
And afternoon
And all the time
Sam laughed in disbelief as she looked down at her phone, scrolling through all of the messages you had sent her in the past hour. 
“Baby, I told you I wasn't going to be gone long. I was just down the street getting groceries. Did you really need to text me that many times?”
Most people would be annoyed with your clinginess, but not Sam. She liked how clingy you were, how obsessed you were with her. It’s harder to doubt someone’s feelings for you when they never leave you alone long enough to get lost in spiraling thoughts. She had been gone for an hour to go get groceries, and you had texted her almost fifty times during your time apart.
“Yes. I really did need to. How else would you know about everything you missed while you were gone?”
She sighed in faux exasperation, her smile giving away her true feelings. “You sent me ‘bird in tree chirped’ like five times!”
“Six, actually. And I thought you should know, because that happened to be a very cute bird. I wouldn’t text you if I didn’t think it was important.”
She let out a huff of laughter as she walked over to you, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. You melted into the embrace, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her closer.
“You’re lucky you’re so adorable.”
“Oh, please. You love me and you know it.”
But all I ever remember is you
And all I ever say is "I miss you more"
You're everything that I ever knew
You're the only girl that I am for
“Can’t you just call in sick today?” you whined as you clutched onto Sam, preventing her from getting out of bed to get ready for work. 
“Baby, you know I can’t. We need the money. And since you decided you wanted to be the housewife, I’m the one who has to go to work. But if you want to swap, I’d be more than happy to,” she smiled, a teasing lilt to her voice.
You huffed, a slight pout forming on your face. “No…”
“Then you have to let me get up. I can’t exactly get ready for work if I’m still stuck in bed.”
“Do you have to get up right now? Can’t you wait just a little longer? Maybe spend an extra few minutes paying attention to your oh-so amazing girlfriend?” You looked at her pleadingly, using your best puppy dog eyes to persuade her.
“Y/n…” Sam started, only for all her rebuttals to wash away the second you started pressing gentle kisses to her neck.
“You know you want to…” you said, your hands slipping beneath her shirt.
“You know what? I think I have a flat tire. How unfortunate that I’m gonna be late to work since I had to get it fixed.”
You smiled triumphantly, rolling onto your back and pulling Sam on top of you. Even though she puts in effort to try to deny you, droning on and on about work and responsibilities, she can never say no to you. You had the ability to make her resolve crumble with just one look, and she couldn’t find it in her to deny you when all you ever really wanted was more time with her. And so, another morning was spent fooling around in bed before Sam rushed off to work, yet another excuse for her lateness at the ready. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Samantha, I'm in love with you
I'll do anything you ask me to
You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue
Samantha, I'm in love with you
And I'll sing it again and again
tags: @Hocksetterrs
if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you!
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paigeyay · 1 year
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i love my girlfriend my boyfriend and all of my side hoes🗣️
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fanfics-and-love · 1 year
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We Get Along Like Snow in New York
Sam Carpenter x reader
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Not my gif
Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mostly fluff surprisingly
Word count: 4k words
Request: Sam and reader have gotten extremely close since moving to NYC and living in the same apartment, but when news of Ghostface attacks happening in New York. Sam pushes Reader away, thinking if she pushes her away, she'll be safe and alive. But, when reader is at Gale's apartment, (Dewey was her uncle) She's attacked by Ghostface instead of Gale, Sam and Tara show up to see reader bleeding out in Gale's arms. (She doesn't die) ask
A/N: I changed Dewey being Y/N’s uncle to father basically because it adds more drama to the story
masterlist
You had been living in New York with your mother ever since your parents’ divorce, having left behind the small town you had grown up in, and were ready to forget all about your father’s untimely death at the hands of a psychopath.
That was how you met Tara Carpenter, or more accurately, how you reunited with her.
Before your parents started arguing over the smallest thing, before your father quit his job, before you left town one day crying, you had been friends with Tara. You liked her because, unlike the rest of your classmates, she didn’t stare at you because you were Dewey and Gale’s daughter. She simply liked spending time with you, and you with her, which blossomed into a fast friendship that was sure enough cut short.
You were the best of friends, always hanging out. Sometimes, when your father came to pick you up from school, he would let you and Tara sit in the back of his police car and turn on the sirens, pretending you were dangerous criminals. You would cling onto Tara, giggling as your father joked around; you cherished those moments more than anything now that Dewey was simply a memory— a tombstone you couldn’t look at without crying.
That was exactly the reason why you reached out to Tara when your mother told you she had moved in with her sister, just like her wanting to leave behind that nightmare. She had happily agreed to meet with you, and you soon found yourself at a bar, drinking and talking, catching up with everything. She had pointedly left behind all that happened in Woodsboro, and you silently agreed, not wanting to remember your father, dead on the ground thanks to her friend. You had spent hours like that, phones on the table face-down so no one could interrupt you, and that was how you met Sam.
Sam was a blurry image to you. You could remember Tara mentioning her probably a little too much when you were young, always talking about how great her sister was at a certain sport, or how she had helped her defeat that big mean guy on a videogame because she couldn’t do it. You had never met her, however, because you barely went over to Tara’s, your mother prefering to keep a watchful eye on you just in case. You didn’t get much of a chance, however, because she left one day and suddenly all the loud praise was occupied by awkward silence.
Needless to say, you weren’t sure what to think of Sam, but she made up your mind for you pretty easily. She walked into the bar like she owned it, a tall figure clad in just a jacket that almost ran towards your table when her brown eyes landed on Tara.
“Sam?” Tara asked, leaving her glass of coke on the table to get up. “Did something happen?”
“Who are you?” Sam asked, not even looking at Tara to give her answer. You felt small under her intense stare.
“She’s Y/N,” Tara said, harsher than you expected. “An old friend.” Sam gave you another look, as if her eyes were enough to determine if you were a danger to her sister. You stayed still, as if you were being approached by a lion.
“We’re leaving,” Sam said. Tara gave you an apologetic look, and you simply nodded, watching as she got up and followed her sister. Outside, you saw them arguing, their screams almost sneaking in through the thick walls of the bars. You asked for the tab, thankful that your mother was rich.
What a bitch, you thought, shaking your head as you left the place, walking back towards your mother’s apartment.
A few hours later, Tara texted you to apologize, and once you replied she sent you her address, asking you to come over.
Having nothing better to do, you accepted.
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
“I’m so sorry,” Tara said, as soon as she closed the door. You took off your jacket, looking around before you sat down on the sofa Tara had pointed at.
“It’s okay,” you said, accepting the glass of water she handed you.
“God, I can’t stand her,” she said, throwing herself onto the sofa beside you. “She’s been like that ever since—” she gave you a small look before shaking her head. “You know. She’s so overbearing.”
“I get it,” you said, resting the glass on the coffee table. “I mean, you should’ve seen my mom when I was young. She barely let me go out when we moved here.”
Something like recognition crossed her eyes. “Right,” she said, sitting up. “Your mom’s Gale.”
“Yep,” you nodded, intertwining your hands together. “You guys killed the new ghostface together.” Something dark crossed over Tara’s face at the name, and you knew you had said the wrong thing.
“Yeah,” Tara said, voice sounding distant even though she was beside you. “Yeah, we did.”
“You know what?” You said, trying to cheer her up. “Forget about that. Tell me what’s your favorite artist.” Tara smiled, nodding as she turned to look at you. She opened her mouth at the same time the front door was opened.
“Oh.”
You turned to look at the woman, awkwardly standing by the door. For the looks of it, she was about to bolt from the apartment.
“You,” Tara said accusingly, rising from the sofa. She poked her sister in the chest with her index finger, and it was your time to wish you could leave this place. You couldn’t deal with family drama; you had had enough of it in your childhood.
“Me,” Sam said, allowing Tara to push her further into the apartment and close the door, leaving her no chance but to take the reprimand.
“Yes, you,” Tara said. You opened your eyes in surprise when she pointed at you. “You are going to apologize immediately to my friend for embarrassing her.”
“You’re the one embarrassing her now—”
“Samantha,” Tara said. It was funny to see the tall woman being bossed around by her sister, who was almost a head shorter. “You apologize right now.”
Sam looked into her sister’s eyes, and nodded. She turned to look at you, and you swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you said, offhandedly. “Don’t worry. I get it. My mom is even worse with people she doesn’t know.”
Sam nodded, and made a noise of complaint when Tara slapped her arm. “Her mom’s Gale.”
She opened her eyes, understanding crossing her face. “Shit,” she said, looking defeated. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” you repeated. “Really. My mom doesn’t mention me too much to strangers just in case. You couldn’t have known.”
“I’m going to my room,” Tara said. You gave her an indignant look. “Sam, apologize.”
“I already apologized!” Sam called. Tara didn’t look her way, instead turning and leaving, presumably towards her bedroom.
“Well, do it again!” She screamed as she slammed the door shut.
“As cheerful as I remember her,” you said, not sure how to fill the awkward silence.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Tara,” you clarified. “She used to be like that when she was young too. Good to know some things never change.”
“You— oh,” Sam said. You smiled at the look of recognition.
“Y/N Riley-Weathers,” you said, getting up. “I know, it’s a mouthful. My mom insisted I should have both last names.”
Sam smiled, nodding. “Right,” she said. “You mom is— interesting.”
“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but when it comes to her job… I’m surprised she hasn’t interviewed you for her new book yet.”
“She’s writing another book?” Sam asked, sitting down on one of the chairs of the dining table.
“She’s always writing another book,” you said, reaching towards your jacket, which Tara had left on the table. “Well, apology accepted. I’ll leave now.”
“Wait,” Sam called, getting up. “I really don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”
“Well, you sure have made quite the impression,” you said.
“I know,” Sam said. “It’s just… Tara wasn’t answering the phone, for hours, and I saw an ambulance on my way out from work and I just… I thought she was gone.”
You smiled softly, understanding washing over you. The image of Dewey crossed your mind, always watching over you, keeping you safe no matter what. You had hated it back then, but now he wasn’t here anymore, you missed him and his protective nature more than anything. “I get it,” you said. “Really. But you should approach it differently. Tara is kinda headstrong on being her own person.”
“I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I just can’t help it.”
“It’s something you have to work on,” you said. “You ought to be a little bit messed up after what happened.”
“You saw the news, then?”
“Please. I live with the news,” you chuckled. “And if I’m not home in half an hour she’s going to call the police and have them patrol every corner of New York until they find me.”
“You should leave, then,” Sam said as she got up, running a hand through her face. She looked stressed, and tired. You felt sorry she had to go through all that just because of who her father was. “I— I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I get it,” you said, putting on your jacket. “You’ve been through a lot. You just want to protect your sister.”
Sam looked at you, thankful that even though Tara seemed so focused on not understanding her, at least someone else did. “It’s still not an excuse.”
“No, it’s not,” you agreed, walking to stand in front of her. “How about this?” You moved closer to her, grabbing her jacket to stop her from pulling away. Her eyes were open in surprise at your boldness. “You take me out one day to compensate for your vile actions.”
Sam’s lips revealed a playful smirk as her hands grabbed your waist. The touch was soft, almost unsure since she didn’t know how much you would allow her. “I guess it’s my penitence.”
You hummed, eyes momentarily on her lips before looking up again at her eyes. “Pick me up tomorrow, six o’clock.”
Sam nodded, her hands dropping as soon as you moved away. “Wait!” She called when you began to open the front door. You turned around, giving her a questioning look. “I don’t have your number.”
You smiled, walking towards her. Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket, but you simply kissed her cheek and pulled away. “Ask your sister.”
You left her there, eyes on you as you disappeared through the door. 
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
Shortly after that, you two began dating. Tara was a little taken aback at first, the thought of her childhood friend and her sister together disgusting her to the point she made a face whenever she saw the two of you kissing. Thankfully, she got over it quickly, her discomfort shortly turning into excitement. Her sister was happy with someone she approved of, and given that you two were dating, all of Sam’s overprotective tendencies had changed direction and were now aimed at you.
It was perfect, until it wasn’t.
You were staying over, having decided to sleep in Sam’s bedroom after she asked you to; something about it being too late and some news she had read about cabs in New York not being trustworthy (you had rolled your eyes at that because, really, what was trustworthy in New York?) You had barely needed convincing, the thought of her warm bed and her arms, firmly and protectively wrapped around you enough to convince you.
You woke up alone in bed, and went over to check your phone. 06:32. Sam would probably be getting ready for work, judging by the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, so you decided to get up and make breakfast for her and Tara, who would be leaving for college.
You had taken a year off after your father’s funeral, knowing that studying wasn’t exactly what you needed, especially because you were aware you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything. You needed to heal, and thankfully your mother was okay with your decision.
You made toast with eggs and bacon for Sam, and got out a bowl and cereal for when Tara woke up, since she had declared one day she was vegan and didn’t want to “eat murder anymore”, whatever that meant. You got it all ready and smiled when you heard Sam open the bathroom door, going to the kitchen when she smelled the food.
“God, you’re amazing,” Sam said, hugging you from behind. You turned off the stove, moving the food onto a plate. She smelled amazing, the shampoo she used fresh and still clinging to her skin. Though she had dried her hair, it was still a little wet where it connected with your neck, making you giggle.
“I know, right?” You said, leaning into her. You loved how warm she always was, in comparison to your cold skin. “I’m the best girlfriend ever.”
“Indeed,” Sam said against your head, biting your earlobe before kissing your neck. “The bestest of them all.” You giggled again, her breath tickling your skin pleasantly.
“God, it’s not even seven in the morning.”
Sam and you turned around to see Tara, standing in the kitchen with an angry look on her face. She was not a morning person.
“My apologies, Tara dear,” you said, pushing Sam into a chair and putting the plate in front of her. You handed her the cutlery with a kiss on the forehead, smirking when Tara groaned. “You want something with your cereal?”
“I want you to stop making out with my sister everywhere.”
“Hard pass,” you said, moving Sam’s hair to help it get dry faster. “Your sister is obsessed with me.”
“Ugh,” Tara said, pouring in the cereal before drowning it with soy milk. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”
“Our souls would’ve found a way back to each other without your intervention,” you said, resting your chin on top of Sam’s head. The girl smiled, abandoning her knife in favor of holding your hand.
“Gross.”
“You are gross,” Sam said.
“Look who’s talking,” Tara said, giving her sister a mocking look of disgust. “I know what you two get up to in that room of yours.”
“Jesus, Tara,” you said, pulling away to walk towards the living room. “Eat your breakfast and stop talking, will you?”
“Ah, so you don’t deny it.”
“Idiot,” you whispered. You sat down on the sofa, searching for the remote controller. Once you did, you turned the TV on, and sighed when you saw your mother on the screen. “She really doesn’t know what it means to take a break.”
You turned on the volume when you saw she was standing in front of an alley, police tape behind her. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you saw the headline.
“Ghostface is back.”
“Sam,” you called, urgently. You went to check your phone as Sam got up, probably alarmed by the tone of your voice. You finally saw all the notifications from your mother, calling you and asking where you were.
“Honey?” She asked, looking at you with concern. She lowered herself in front of you, eyes examining you to know what was wrong. You pointed at the TV, and once she read the headline she tensed, the hand on your thigh gripping you hard. “No,” she said, breathlessly.
“What is it?” Tara asked, picking up on the mood shift. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the TV, still going over the news.
“I—” Sam said. She looked out of it, face stoic as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “I have to go to work.”
“College,” said Tara in the same tone. You watched with concern as the two moved around the house, almost on autopilot, gathering their things and getting ready to leave.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” You said to Sam when you saw her in her work clothes. She nodded, eyes not fully looking at you as she opened the front door Tara had just left through. She shook her head as if to get rid of a haze, and gave you a long kiss.
“I love you,” she said against your lips.
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
But you didn’t see her later, or the next day. When you went over to the apartment, Quinn told you they had gone over to meet with Chad and Mindy, so you went back over to your mother’s house.
She was pushing you away. You knew it, and you hated it. You hated how she was letting this new ghostface get in between you, but you mostly hated how she felt like being with you would put you in danger.
You almost laughed out loud at the thought, there in the middle of the street. As if. Your mother was Gale Weathers, your father Dewey Riley— this shit had been following you way before you met her. But of course, it was Sam. Sweet, caring Sam, who constantly put others first, who always did anything to protect those she loved, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.
Once you were inside the apartment, you sat down in your bed, looking at all the unanswered messages you had sent her the past few days.
Samantha, you wrote, and then deleted. It felt too formal. You typed in a final message before locking your phone, throwing yourself onto the bed.
You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but you were awakened by the sound of the phone line ringing. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you got up, cursing your mother for still owning one of those. It wasn’t the 90s anymore.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Y/N,” the sound of that voice made your skin run cold. “Wanna play a game?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m inside your house,” they said in a singsong voice. “Wanna play hot and cold?”
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
When Sam saw she had gotten a call from Gale, she knew something was wrong.
She had known early that morning when she woke up, something in the pit of her stomach telling her to go to you, to hold you and never let you go. But she couldn’t, not until she figured out who was behind those new attacks. She wouldn’t risk you— she wouldn’t lead that killer right to your doorstep and have you killed because of her. No, she would rather die than put you in that type of danger.
“It’s Y/N,” Gale said urgently, when she answered the phone. “I— I called an ambulance. They’re on their way, but— god.”
Sam had started running towards your apartment the moment your name fell out of your mother’s lips. She pushed people out of the way, barely noticing she was gasping for air, or that Gale was still talking.
“—so much blood,” she said. Sam ran into the gateway, pressing onto the elevator bottom a few times before cursing, deciding to take the stairs instead.
“Is she breathing?” Sam asked. One more floor, one more and she’d be there with you.
“I—” Gale was gasping for air. “I don’t know.”
Sam pushed the door open, thankful it had been left ajar. She didn’t see the blood on the floor, or your mother crying beside you— all she could see was your body, bloody and deadly still.
“Y/N,” she called in a whisper. Gale jumped at the sound of Sam’s phone falling to the ground, knife in hand ready to kill anyone who had dared hurt her daughter. She lowered it at the same time Sam lowered herself on the floor, hands shaking as she grabbed you and held you in her arms. Her fingers clumsily set on your neck, trying to find a pulse like a thirsty man searches for water in the desert. She gasped in relief when she felt it. Slow, a little too slow, but it didn’t matter; your heart was still beating.
“I can’t lose her,” Gale sobbed. “I already lost Dewey, I can’t… not her,” she looked at Sam with pleading eyes; she had never seen your mother so paralyzed with fear. It was an eerie sight.
“You won’t,” Sam said, voice firm. She took off her outer shirt, using it to press onto your biggest wound, which was located on the stomach. “She’s not dying. She’s not.”
Determination washed over, taking with it the leftovers of panic and distress. There would be time for lament and regret later, once you were safely in a hospital bed.
“God,” Gale said when Sam began to raise you. Blood splashed over the carpet, and she almost threw up at the sight.
“You called an ambulance?” Sam asked. She was holding you in her lap, your head falling limply into her shoulder.
“Yes.”
“I’m taking her downstairs,” Sam said. The pressure she was applying on the wound was helping, because it had stopped most of the bleeding. “I’m not fucking waiting until they get their fucking asses up the stairs.”
And so she got up, holding you in her arms. She carefully cradled your head in her neck, making sure it stayed secure so you wouldn’t accidentally hit something and got a concussion. It was the last thing you needed at that moment. She made sure your hands were on your stomach, pressing lightly onto the wound —it was better than nothing.
“You’re not dying on me,” Sam whispered. She was climbing down the stairs, Gale right behind her. “You’re not, okay, baby?” She felt herself getting choked up at the thought. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Shortly after, the ambulance showed up, and Sam ran towards them. She set you down onto the stretcher gently, and pressed onto the wound until one of the paramedics reached over, grabbing her hand and telling her she needed to leave.
She stood where she had been forced to stay, ignoring all the looks she received. It wasn’t until Gale grabbed her by the arm and moved her out of the way that she noticed she had been standing in the middle of the road.
“She’s being taken to the hospital,” she spoke softly. Sam looked at her arms, covered in blood— covered in your blood, and she almost broke down. Instead, she swallowed, putting her hands on her pockets. “I’ll take you there. I picked up your phone,” she pushed it into Sam’s chest, and she grabbed it. Great, the screen was completely broken. “Call your sister and tell her what’s happened. Tell her you’ll meet at the hospital.”
“Okay,” Sam said. Her dull tone almost scared her. She felt drained. “Okay,” she repeated, watching as Gale went to her car and got inside. It took her a few seconds to open the passenger door, and a few too many trying to unlock her phone to call her sister.
All she could think about was you, and getting revenge on what they had done to you.
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b0ng05 · 16 days
Text
Sam Carpenter x F! Reader - Mornings Like This MDI 18+
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Word Count: 2013
Prompt: Sam Carpenter and her girlfriend being silly and making breakfast.
Warnings: Strap-on, a little bit of degradation, poor jokes I wrote in when I was stoned.
Also, not Proofread. Masterlist
I woke up to a crack of light peering through my curtains. The light blinding my eyes for a few seconds as I rub the sting away. I take a deep breath, stretching out my stiff limbs. As I arch my body in an ‘Excorcist’ type way, I catch a glimpse of Sam sleeping beside me. She laid on her stomach, a pillow tucked between her arms and head. Her dark hair sprawled out wildly along the pillowcase. A bit of drool pooling from her chin to the fabric as she slept. Half of the covers thrown from her body, assumably from her getting too warm at night. Most of her back on display as she usually slept in her sports bras, last night being no acception. I smile as I begin to climb out of bed, deciding to wake up Sam with breakfast, despite my poor cooking skills. As I stand up, the fluffy covers fall from my body, leaving me cold. Being too lazy to search the floor for my shirt, I walked to the kitchen. The cold air didn’t end in my bedroom, the thin fabric of my bra not doing much for my temperature.
I walked over to the cupboard, grabbing out a pan and two plates. I grabbed out the bacon and eggs from the fridge. I decide to start on the bacon first, knowing that I sucked at multitasking. Cutting open the package, I throw some bacon on the pan, hearing the initial sizzle and smiling, thinking about how great a cook I am. What I didn’t think about was what the sizzle meant. Within a few minutes, I’m being shot with bacon grease. Every second was me hissing in pain and cussing out the bacon for being such a rude bitch. With each insult, the bacon fought back, for each cuss, a shot of bacon grease to the tit.
“We have shirts, and aprons. You are aware of that right?” I hear a raspy teasing chuckle from behind me, and the feeling of strong arms wrapping around my bare waist. I smile as I feel her lips pressing against my neck in a tired yet loving way. “I’m aware, but I was gonna bring you this in bed, and then ask for you to kiss my bacon burns better.” I tease back, leaning into her touch as I use the tongs to take out some of the finished pieces. “Oh really? And where are these bacon burns?” Sam playfully pokes my side, her voice filled with sleep. I giggle and turn off the stove top as I finish up cooking. “Got a lot on my boobs,” I tease, not missing the mischevious glint in Sam’s eyes as they drift down to my chest. I playfully slap her shoulder, “My eyes are up here,” I tease, Sam chuckles, kissing my cheek. “ Also, what are you even doing up this early? I wanted to surprise you.” I pout up at her, trying to fight a grin that pricked my lips. “Well, I heard you cussing out the bacon. Did you seriously call the bacon, ‘Fucking whore, bitchwad’? What does that even mean?” Sam grins, her eyebrow quirking up. I sheepishly look up at the ceiling, which was a mistake due to Sam’s taller height. She easily grabs my chin, tilting my face towards her, my cheeks a blushing red. “Listen- the bacon just isn’t cool like that.” I sigh, smiling as I hear her laugh. “God, you’re a dork.” Sam whispers and pauses before kissing me. Her lips pressing against mine in a soft loving way. We pull apart, our foreheads pressing against each others. She lets out a content sigh before whispering softly,
“Please let me finish cooking. That bacon didn’t do anything wrong,” She peeks her eyes open, a mischievous smirk on her lips. “Oh woww, seriously taking the bacon’s side?” I let out a playful scoff, glaring up at her. “There was no witness to testify otherwise,” Sam quipped, a grin on her lips as she slips one of the aprons out of the drawer, tying it around her body. “The red skin on my tits says otherwise!” I huff, taking my seat on the countertop. Sam smirks and holds out her hand for the spatula that sat beside me, I playfully and passive aggressive pass her the spatula with a heavy sigh. “Oh really~? Care to let me see the evidence, preferably in full view, minus the bra.” She hums, glancing at me with a grin. I playfully roll my eyes, playing into her little game. “I actually might need you to do it. Wouldn’t it be corrupting evidence if you let the plaintiff do such a thing?” I giggle, leaning back against the cupboards as I watch Sam cook the eggs.
“Oh, very good point. I think you’re right. Let me just-” Sam smirks, turning off the burner before stepping between my legs. Her hands caressing my thighs, “May I~?” She teases, lifting one hand to snap one strap of my bra. “Go ahead, find the evidence,” I tease, giggling a bit. Sam bites her bottom lip as she slips my bra over my head. She pauses, licking her lips as she eyes my bare chest. “I don’t see any marks yet,” Sam playfully teases. I smirk, running one of my hands through her hair. “What do you mean yet? I already cooked the bac-” My breath hitches as she leans down, her tongue tracing along my breast before she sucks down, her eyes looking up into mine as she leaves a hickey on my chest. Her tongue running along the red mark soothingly before she kisses the spot. “Now we can sue the bacon,” I joke, looking at the mark on my chest. “How? I made it.” Sam chuckled, her hand moving up to grope at my chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of faking evidence, with a blind and senial enough jury, we could totally have a lawsuit on our hands.” I giggle, leaning in to kiss her jaw. Sam laughs, her other hand trailing my spine. “Remind me to never let you be my lawyer.” Sam nods, leaning in to kiss my collarbone. “Hey! I’d be a great lawyer, I’m pro-bono!” I laugh, Sam’s kisses end abruptly as she chuckles. “Oh really? You’d take my case for free?” Sam teases, moving her hands to playfully squeeze my waist. “Of course.” I nod, ”And I’m feeling especially pro-bono at the moment, so if you take me back to our room, I will take your case, and I’ll take it so well.” I tease, my tone both on the verge of laughing and still trying to drift seductive.
“How big of a case are we talking here~?” Sam teases back, lifting me off the counter as she begins to walk us back to our room. “5 month long trial, 7 month, 10 if I’m feeling a bit ambitious-” I laugh, leaning in to kiss her neck. “If you’re this pro-bono, should I be worried about other clientel?” Sam teases, gently laying me on the bed and pining me down. My hands tangled up with one of hers near the pillows. “I’m more of a private personal lawyer, you know you’re my one and only client.” I whisper, leaning up to kiss her neck. “Good girl,” She smirks, “Stay put,” She demands, before getting out of the bed and walking to our closet. After a minute, she comes out naked, with a 7 inch strap around her hips. She saunters up to the bed, standing at the foot as I look at her helplessly, my thighs clenching as she smirks down at me. “Now,” She moves to loom over me, “I don’t intend to waste the breakfast you so kindly started for me, so I’m gonna go fast, and you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are,” Sam whispers, gently biting my neck as her hands move to tug down my shorts and panties. I shiver as the cold air of the room reaches my core with Sam spreading my legs. She reaches down, running her fingers along my slit before slipping two into my core with ease. Her fingers showing no mercy as she begins speeding her movements, her thumb playing with my clit. She smirks down at me, watching as I use all my willpower to keep my hands above my head where she left them.
“Taking my fingers so well~” She whispers, kissing along my neck. The heat in my core begins to build, but before I can reach a satisfying release, she pulls her fingers from my core. “Let’s see how well you can take my cock,” She teases, her hand, wet with my juices, reaches down and jerks the silicon dildo, spreading my slick along it. She positions the head at my entrance, pushing in with no hesitation. My mouth falls into a silent cry as she stretches me out, each inch writhing my body with pleasure. My hands accidentally leave the pillow, clutching around her shoulders. As she bottoms out inside me, she gives me a second to get used to the intrusion. “What did I say?” She hums, grabbing my hands and pining them back down with one hand. She gives a particularly harsh thrust at the disobedience. I let out a loud moan, the stretch aching a bit, but the pleasure far overrode it. “T-to stay put,” I mumble, to which she leans down and gently bites at my chest. “I can’t hear you, honey,” Sam whispers. I let out a soft moan as she attaches her lips around my nipple, her tongue swirling around it. Her hips slowly and gently swirling as she hums, waiting for an answer. “To stay put,” I say through a breathy moan. She chuckles softly, her free hand groping at my other breast as her mouth moves to kiss my neck. “Are you gonna stay put or am I gonna have to let that breakfast go to waste?” Sam teases, being to thrust at a slightly faster pace, but nothing to push me anywhere close near the edge. “I’ll be a good girl, Sammy,” I whisper, my tone a bit desperate as I bite down on my lower lip. My eyes drifting to where our bodies connect. Watching as she begins to thrust faster, the sight of her sinking her strap deep inside me. Her hand moves from my breast to my chin, making me meet her eyes as she speeds up. “You like seeing me wreck you baby~?” Sam smirks, her tone a bit breathless. Her eyes a dark with lust as she goes harder, making me let lose a whorish moan. “Of course you do,” She lets out a soft groan as angle rub the strap back against her clit. “Such a slut for me, such a good fucking girl,” Sam growls, giving a harsh thrust with each statement. Pulling out till just the head was at my entrance before thrusting fully back in. Leaving me breathless and writhing beneath her as I hold her hand with mine above my head. “Gonna cum, Sammy~!” I moan loudly, my thighs beginning to tremble with the force and pleasure of her thrusts. “Cum for me, baby,” Sam lifts one of my legs onto her shoulder and increases her pace, letting out soft grunts and groans as the strap rubs better against her clit at the new angle. “Be a good girl and cum on my strap.” I let out a loud moan as the heat in my stomach explodes, my cunt pulsing around her strap as she fucked me through my orgasm. I tug my hands from her grasp and wrap them around her shoulders. “How about I order breakfast?” Sam suggests sedutively, still a bit breathless. I let out a small chuckle and smirk up at her mischeviously, “What? Pro-bono?” I joke with a giggle, but that’s ended quickly when Sam presses the strap deeper, making me all the more aware of my current place.
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screaminglygay · 6 months
Text
KINKTOBER day 5
pairing: ghostface! sam carpenter x fem!reader
summary: you and sam are besties, but do you tell each other everything? (what is this? i dunno)
warnings: smut!!!, dom!sam x sub!reader, sam is a big meanie for a little, spanking, degradation, dirty talk, swearing, killing mentioned, tiny bit of knife play, slapping, crying, not proofread, if anything else, let me know - I’ll add it
word count: 4.4k
an: enjoy I guess, let me know your opinions, also thanks for so much support with wanda, tbh I though that it won’t do this great, but it did and all of you are so horny freaks, including myself, but truly I appreciate it!!!💕💕
(italics = your thoughts)
!MDNI!
Enjoy this spooky season and be safe!
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The phone rings again, hidden caller. Picking up a secret number is really not your style. You let it ring, if they truly need you, they will write you a message.
Buzz.
Oh and they do need something important. You take your phone and look at the notification.
Hidden number
8:36PM
Call me ASAP, please! I can´t open the excel!
You calmed down a little bit as it was probably your classmate and accidentaly made their phone number hidden. Taking a deep breath before calling someone was always your go to thing, since the whole situation is very stressfull, you´d much rather write a long paragraph over a text, then just call someone. But since it´s about school, you´re less nervous.
You finger touch the last missed call and it starts to ring, as soon as you see that the other side picked it up, you started to speak.
"Hey! Sorry, I didn´t hear the phone. Anyways what´s going on with that file?" You took your notebook in case you have to make step by step tutorial to your classmate, because it wouldn´t be for the first time.
"No one ever told you lying is bad, (Y/N)?" You didnt recognize the voice, it wasn´t a voice you remember anyone having from your class, or the whole school. It was deep, raspy and mostly scary. You didn´t like horrors very much, but you were positive that you´ll get prank called or jumpscared by some idiot. And here they are, idiot on the line, at least that´s what you think.
"Haha very funny..." You´re mostly annoyed, but there is this side of little you, who is hoping this is truly your idiot classmate and no one else. "Do you wanna help with the sheet or not?"
Long big sigh can be heard on the other side. "And I thought you were a nice girl, (Y/N). Guess I was wrong. Don´t worry, we´ll work on that."
Now your little scary thought became a little bit bigger. You weren´t so sure it was someone you know.
"Who am I speaking with? Sorry, I don´t have your number added." You hoped they would say your name, you would stop panicking and it would be done it two minutes.
"Someone who likes to play games. (Y/N), would you like to play a game?" the raspy voice asked.
"No, thank you." Out of nervousness and mostly fear you hang up. You didn´t even realize until you stoped hearing the rapsy breath. Even if there was a truly a classmate who wanted a help, they shouldn´t prankcall you. Gosh how much you hated these things.
The phone didn´t ring again for quite some time, so you just let it go. Taking a long shower sounded like the best idea now. Out of the closet you took oversized shirt and some shorts and you headed to the bathroom. Doing your usual skin care routine went on automatic and brushing your teeth as well.
Coming back to your room, you notice that you left your closet opened, you sigh and close the door. Being too tired to prepare your clothes for tomorrows school day. As you lay on your bed, you hug your big teddy bear and your eyes immedietly close as you drift to sleep.
...
The next day goes smooth, first lecture was actually really interesting and you didn´t felt tired at all. You had your morning coffee and today was just a good day, you could feel it. You didn´t have those in a while, so it is very welcome.
Second lecture was indeed boring, but at least you know that the human eye blinks an average of 4 200 000 times a year, which is... a new information, that´s for sure. But the professor ended class sooner, so at least you had more time for lunch. And that´s a plus.
As you´re sitting alone, eating your lunch on a bench in a park, where you like to spend your free time between the classes, someone taps on your shoulder.
"Oh hi, Sam!" You smile, seeing your friend always makes your day better. "What are you doing here, I thought you´re working today." You scoop so Sam can sit next to you.
Sam met you when you were running late, literally. You two bumped into each other few months ago and because you spilled your coffee on her, you just had to pay for it somehow. So after you quickly gave her your number and basically sprinted out, Sam made sure you´ll keep your promise. And you did, few days after that you two met again and over a coffee realized how much things you two have in common.
She seemed like a cold and closed of person at first, but she is actually the sweetest teddy bear, as you like to call her for fun. Sam told you many times she hated it, but you made a good points that she is just so sweet, big and you feel safe when you´re around her, just like with teddy bear in your bed. And she was a taller than you, so that´s another point. After few "arguments" she actually let you win, so she is now your big and protective teddy bear.
You two started to hang out more and more, which just confirms your initial click, that Sam felt as soon as she laid her eyes on your sweet and innocent face.
"Well maybe I lied and I wanted to suprise you." Sam answers as she sits next to you.
"I am surprised," you giggle. "I have like a hour and something before my next lecture, so..." You look at your phone.
"Good." Sam smiles and tilts her head, she notices that you´re smiling ear to ear. "What got you smiling like that, (Y/N)?"
"Hm... nothing in particular, but it´s just a good day. And I´m enjoying a every single bit of it." You answer and your cheeks start to hurt a bit from all the smiling, you did in the last 10 minutes.
"Oh, I see. As you should." She nudges your arm with hers. "What are you doing after school?"
"I have to finish some excel to my statistic class, but besides that... nothing." Your thoughts are taking you back to last night and your weird call, with who you thought was your classmate.
Sam notices your smile fading and put her hand on your thigh, something she did pretty often, but it brings you butterflies everytime. "(Y/N)?"
"Hm? Yeah?" Sam just raises her eyebrow. "It´s nothing, I just had this weird person from school call me yesterday and... yeah, it was weird. A stupid prankcall." You roll your eyes.
Sam move her hand on your thigh up and down, trying to sooth you. "What did they say?"
"Just some stupid stuff, like do you want to play a game. Do I look like I want to play a game?" You sigh.
"Depends on the game. Horor game? Probably not. The Sims 4? Absolutely yes." Sam chuckles as you punch her arm.
"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing The Sims. Can you blame me?" You laugh, Sam always helps you with your bad and anxious thoughts.
The rest of your free time you two shared a lots of laughs, smiles and overall a good quality time together. Until you had to go back to your lectures, which made your day a little worse, since you wanted to keep talking to Sam.
...
Few hours later you finally finished all of your lectures for the day. You didn´t have that energy boost as you did this morning, but you´re still in a good mood. So you decided to walk from school back to your dorm. And even if it was October, it was still kinda warm outside so you put some soft music on and decided to walk.
Stepping into your dorm you notice that something is bad, you can´t point a finger on what it is, but the vibe seems off. Shaking off the feeling didn´t help for long, because as soon as you reach for your keys the ligh on the other side of the hall just turn off.
"Shit!" You flinch and your hands start to shake. As you succesfully get inside you lock your door faster than ever.
"Oh my god-" you take a few deep breaths. "It was just a light, (Y/N), everything is good. It was just a light." Mumbling out loud these words, in hopes that it will calm you down.
You turn all of your lights in your home on as a prevention for your mind from creating something that is not there. Lastly you go to your bedroom and open the door, you stop in your track in a moment when your eyes met a tall black figure next to your opened closet.
A cold shivers run down your spine, but with confidence it´s just your mind playing tricks you turn on the light even there.
But that choice just showed you, that this time, it´s not your mind playing tricks, but there is actually someone in your house. A tall black silluete turned into a big person with a black cloak and a white mask, looking like a ghost. You´ve seen this mask many times during Halloween parties. Quickly scanning the person you notice that they´re holding a knife. A knife!
"Oh fuck!" You qiuckly close your bedroom door, hoping you will get more time, but of course you had to lock all of your locks and jumping from a window was not an option since you´re living in the 9th floor.
Shit, shit, shit. Wait... I don´t hear anything.
The only thing that you can hear is your heartbeat, no steps, no breathing, just your heart. Looking back, noticing that the door you slammed shut before are now open again.
Your living in your worst shitty nightmare.
It´s a tap on your shoulder that almost makes you lose it. You let out the most horror scream in your entire life, you didn´t even think you could scream like that. The tall person with ghostface mask is standing right next to you, they shake their head and one of their hands makes it over your mouth to keep you shut. As soon as your bodies hit the floor, which suprisingly didn´t hurt at all due to all the adrenaline you have in you, right now. They pull their knife to your face and slowly slide it across your cheek, not hurting you in any way.
Your breathing gets faster and faster to the moment you feel like you start to hyperventillate.
"Hello, (Y/N). You cut our call last night, so I felt like meeting you in person, again, would help us solve the excel problem. Don´t you think?" It was the same raspy, deep voice you heard yesterday over the phone.
"I- uh s-sure." You nod as you mumble your answer agaist her hand, noting better came to your mind.
"Sure? Now you don´t have a problem with that, but yesterday you cut me off like I was a fucking no one?!" Now you were truly hoping that this is just a nightmare and you will wake up. "Isn´t it fair if i cut you off too? So you would now how it feels?" Their knife is swinging infront of your face again.
"I- No, please, don´t. I- i uh I´m sorry!" You mumble agaist their hand.
The person on top of you just laughs and bring your hand above your head and now you can´t move at all.
"I think it´s fair, you know how shitty I felt? And today you´re doing like nothing happened? Like I was just.. what did you described me as... as a weird person who said stupid stuff?" Their face coming closer to you. "I think it´s fair to show me some fucking respect." you feel a slight sweet cologne coming from that person.
A scent you know very well, It starts with a fresh burst of citrus, like a mandarin. With a little hint of vanilla and amber adds depth and warmth. This scent is a subtle and comforting, like a cherished memory to you. A cherished person, you know too well.
It can´t be...
Your eyes shift, looking over the mask again, your eyes anaylzing from side to side, like you´re trying to read their mind through the eyes on the mask.
They tilt their head again, the knife slowly going away from your face. You hope that what you thing is just a big misunderstanding, it can´t be her. Not your Sam.
"Sammy?" You mumble as their hand is going away from your mouth. Few tears forming in your eyes.
"Oh look at you, you figured it out." She takes her mask of and it was like a bullet straight through your heart. "Now be quiet or I´ll shut you up." She picks you up, like nothing and wallks quickly into your bedroom.
This was not your Sam, not your friend, she look like her, but her actions were the exact opposite of your comfort person.
She throws you at the bed and you´re now laying on your stomach, she comes closer to you again and whispers into your ear.
"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing with you, (Y/N). Can you blame me?" She chuckles as she repeat what you´ve said earlier. "Ass up." She put her hands on your hips and you put your ass up, as she told you. Too scared to do anything else. "Good girl." Sam praises you.
"S-Sam.." you whine out between with your tears streaming down your face.
"Oh shush, did no one told you to speak nicely about your friends? And not talk-" she spanks you, hard, "shit about your friends?" Sam spanks you again, this time it was even harder.
"I´m sorry, Sam- I didn´t-" you try to talk, but it´s hard when your face is burried in the pillows.
"I. Dont. Want. To. Hear. It. Now." Her voice was harsh and so was her hands on your ass with each words she growls into your ear, even when you have your clothes on, it still hurts too much. "Just take what I give you and then we might talk." Without any warning she takes your pants off, slicing your shirt and throwing it away.
"No bra?" Sam laughs. "You went the whole day without a fucking bra, you´re so pathetic, (Y/N)." She runs her knife on your back, she´s doesn´t want to hurt you really, at least not right now. "You did this on purpose? You´re look so innocent, but you´re not so innocent, are you?" Her hands find its way on your tits, she give them a tight squeeze and you can´t help, but let out a big moan.
You like this, which shock you more than the fact, that Samantha Carpenter broke into your house, just to play with you.
Her big strong arms, oh god how much you love her amrs. The way they hold you during your sleepovers, how they caught you everytime you walk into the street without looking both sides, or how they always brought comfort to you. Everytime.
But now? It´s totally different now, at least that´s what you think and Sam noticed that. And she can´t have you be thinking this much, when she wants to have her sweet time with you.
Her hands playing with your nipples, pinching each one very hard for you to come back to her. And you did, you realize just now that you´re not crying anymore, you´re just a moaning mess.
"You´re doing so good, look at you, mi amor, taking all the spanks as a punishment for how mouthy you were." You can sense the smile in her words and it´s like your Sammy is speaking to you, which instantly make your worries go away. Your body relaxes againt her and she can feel it, it´s like a small win for her. "Good, just like that."
You moan once again, it was more a needy moan than anything else. One second you´re on your stomach and the other one, you´re on your back, Sam holding your waist to scoop you closer to herself. She´s still wearing the black cloak, that don´t scare you anymore. If anything it is kinda attractive, that she´s still in her clothes and you´re just in your panties.
Looking at her with needy eyes was something that Sam saw a many times. Begging her to pick you up after school, or give you her hoodie, when you were cold. Or those many times when you cannot reach something, because it was way to high.
But this time you have this spark in your eyes, the good girl was gone, now Sam could really see the needy whore, who hid under the inoccent cover for the whole time. And this time Sam takes this as the ultimate win.
"Please-" you whine.
The most confident smirk appears on Sam´s face as her hands runs down your body, finally kissing your neck. "Please what?" Sam asks you between those sloppy kisses.
You let out another whine.
"I´m letting you speak, if i was you, i´d better use it." She bites your neck, which will definetly make a nasty bruise.
"Use me." Your move your head, so Sam has better acces to your neck.
"Oh wow, such a fitlhy words, for such a pretty little girl." She chuckles as she keep kissing your neck, her hands finding your tits again.
You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, but Sam knows. Of course she does. You feel as her hands are grooping your breasts, but you´re not satysfied, you want to see her, so you tug on her cloak and let out a whine.
"What?" She mumbles agaist your neck and then she pulls away to make eye contact with you.
"I wanna see you." You tug on her cloak again, "please."
Sam without a beat took her cloak off and she was now in her black underwear, sitting on top of you as your eyes wonder. She gives you a little time for checking her out and god you could stare at her for days. The light in your room making her muscles look even sharper, not that she needs it, but you just can´t have enough of her.
"You´re not so sad now, huh?" She smirks again, fuck how much you hated that confident smirk. Without waiting for your actual response, she dive back, her lips on your neck, making sure that after tonight everybody knows who do you belong to.
After a few minutes of Sam being basically a vampire, she starts to kiss her way down, slowly as she stops at your nipples again. Slowly, but hasrshly sucking on them, making sure to keep an eye contact with you. " Keep your eyes at me." You could cum just from watching her.
She treats you like a blank canvas, and as a skilled artist, she must make sure that you are painted with her in the end and with a pleasure you won´t forget.
Her big muscular hands are sliding down your body, pinching your inner thighs to tease you. She knows what you want, but she won´t give in that easily, even when you´re looking at her with those cute and innocent eyes.
Your hands are sliding off your panties, but Sam qiuckly takes your hands. "They are staying on and keep your hands above your head." Her raspy voice sends shivers down your pussy, that is now drenched, because of her touches and skilled movements.
You put your hands back above your head, wiggling a little to show Sam how impatient you are. She just sends you a quick slap on your thigh and you giggle.
Her finger slowly going up and down your clothed pussy, you can already see how wet your panties are and if Sam wasn´t that needy, she would make fun of you. Seeing you like this gives her so much power and let´s be real you are really feeding her ego.
"Sam!" You move your hips up, hoping she will actually do something.
"(Y/N)!" She mocks you with innocent smile on her face.
"Fuck- I need your fucking hands in me or I swear I´m gonna lose it!" You did lose it already.
"You want my fucking hand in you? You like my hands?" Sam whispers.
"I do! So much! I need your big hands in me, please!" You shift towards her again.
"Aww pretty little girl, do you think that your pussy will take my big hands?" Sam´s finger barerly toucing your slit.
"Yes! I can take it!" You think that you will be crying from the frustration.
"Say it."
"My little pussy will take your big fucking fingers! Hands! Whatever you give me, I can take it, Samantha!" You groan.
"Oh you´re using my full name, you really need it, huh?" She smirks again, but your wish is her command and in the end she wants to make you feel good. Pushing your panties to the side, your juices are everywhere and god she loves it.
"Is this for me?" Sam softly asks.
"Only for you." You give her a small smile.
"In that case-" she slides her two fingers in you, slowly pushing in and out. Sam already feels your pussy pulsating and her fingers get almost swallowed by you. "Oh wow, I was so wrong about you and I´m so happy I was." She adds another finger.
You whine, you feel aready so close, your pussy is feeling like it´s on fire, your hips going up and down and Sam´s just enjoying the view. You want more, so you feel like grabing Sam´s hand is a good idea. She raises her eyebrow and slip her fingers out of you.
You whine out, immedietly feeling empty, you feel like you gonna burst out, you really need to cum, but now you lost everything that felt good.
Sam slaps your pussy one time, but damn it´s painful. "I said, keep your hands to yourself." Her fingers slides quickly back into you, both of you know, that you´re very close.
"Ple-" you can´t even finish the word without a moan.
"Go on, scream. I want you to fucking scream my name, mi amor." She uses both of her hands now, one sliding in and out of you and the other one playing with your clit, which is something that gets you over the edge pretty easily.
Your whole body flex under her touch, this is the best release you ever had, it felt better than anything in this world, she definetly know what she´s doing. As you scream her name, Sam slows down her movements, for you to ride it all out, without being too overstimulated.
Sam gives you two kisses on each of your inner thighs and then kiss her way back up. She´s smiling and you are too.
The atmosphere went from being scared of your life to you having THE time of your life.
"There you go, little girl. How are we feeling hm?" Sam whispers into your ear as she wraps her strong hands around you.
"Fucking confused." You let out a small giggle.
"Watch your tone, young lady." Her hand squeezes your wrist.
"I- I´m good. Just... what just happened?" You lean into her.
Sam laughs as you´re confused. "You know I hate Halloween, you scared the living shit out of me with this prank, Sam. If you wanted to... you know, you could´ve just asked. I though you were some murderer!" You lazily mumble as you are half asleep already.
"Yeah and I love Halloween and asking you for a fuck session is not so fun. Me a murderer? Oh please." She kisses your head.
"Hmm.. whatever." You are too tired to have this conversation with her.
As you fall asleep in the arms of Samantha Carpenter you felt happy, today was really a great day.
Sam made sure you were dead asleep before getting up from the bed, but as soon as she did, you instantly start to move in discomfrot. She quickly grab your teddy bear and made you cuddle him instead and her plan worked. Cute smile was on your face again and Sam was glad you had this stuffie here as a replacement for her, when she needs to do her job. She knew you will be overthing when you woke up to an empty bed, so she quickly scribble down a note.
"I´ll call you later, I had to go to work, -s"
She took her knife that was laying on the ground, take on her cloak and last but not least take on her ghostface mask and went to work.
She was never a murderer, she was and still is just a protector. Especially when it comes to you.
Of course you had to call Sam, when you heard the news.
"Hi, how is my sleepyhead?" She chuckles into the phone.
"Hey, um... did you hear the news?" You quickly say to her, as you´re almost out of breath.
"What news?" She asks you.
"There was a murder, someone in a ghostface mask was seen few streets from my dorm. They killed a girl from my statistic class, I mean... I didn´t know her, but it´s still scary." As you say this, goosbumbs appear on your arms.
"Oh shit, that´s... scary even for me. Are you okay?" Sam asks with concern.
"Yeah, I didn´t know her or anything, but it´s crazy. Especially when you can buy the mask anywhere, since you have it too." You ramble over the phone.
"Right. It´s like I killed her, right?" Sam responds.
"Sam, don´t joke about these things. Can you maybe come to mine after work?" You really need her, to protect you and make you feel safe again.
"Give me 15 minutes." And with that Sam hang up. Drove away from the empty parking lot, where she watched your classmate, Tony. She heard a few stories from you, that Tony was being a dick during your presentation and no one can be a dick to you. No one.
And today is Tony’s lucky day, because you need her now and that´s way important. When she´s with you, no one can hurt you.
Only she can and that´s how it should be all the time.
Thank you for reading! Have a great day!!! And tell me what you think<3
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screamsortega · 1 year
Text
such a whore;
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summary: sam fucking you, that’s basically it.
warnings: nsfw, 18+, degradation, choking, doggy style, hair pulling, strap on, crying, cursing (if that’s even needed as a warning)
pairing: samantha carpenter x fem!reader
i cannot force you to not read but if you are under the age of 18 please don’t.
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sam was unapologetic in the way she had fucked you tonight, your body couldn’t even compete with hers.
the silicone cock was pounding into your dripping space, the more she thrusted into you, the more you could feel the heat between your thighs.
her hand reached up to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you pathetically whimpered in response.
“you love it when i fuck you like this, don’t you?” sam groaned into your ear, “such a fucking slut.”
you could feel tears welting in your eyes from how good she was pounding into you.
your head flew toward as sam let go of your hair, your knuckles turning white due to how hard you were gripping the sheets.
your orgasm grew closer and closer, and sam knew because of the loud noises and pornographic moans that were escaping your mouth.
you wanted to tell her how much you loved the way she filled you up with her cock, but you just couldn’t. the amount of things you were feeling was so much that it was hard to even breathe let alone speak.
“you’re taking me so well,” sam panted, thrusting in and out of you even harder and faster than before. “tell me how good i make you feel.”
you only moaned in response, earning a slap to your ass from sam. “answer me,” sam spoke, grabbing a fistful of your hair again. “tell me how good i make you feel, how much you want to cum.”
“so good, sam,” you responded, barely able to form a full sentence. “i want to cum — so badly, please.”
a hand crept up to your throat, your orgasm rushing in as everything went fuzzy.
“you liked being choked?” sam smirked, “such a fucking whore for me.”
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authors note;
this was my first smut so hopefully it’s good, feel free to leave suggestions or request. i’ll possibly make a prompt list soon
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bel1ewrites · 17 hours
Text
Booth Five (Sam Carpenter x Reader)
A/n: Here's another one, love you guys.
WC: Idfk
Warnings: smut, top!Sam, bossyish!reader, slightly public sex, thigh riding, more thigh riding, Sam in fancy work clothes
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NUMEROUS visits to her favorite place after a long, hard day of work had forced Sam's ears to grow accustomed to the deafening thunder of sensual music that pumped through the hazy club.
Ever since the very first week of her new life in the the city, Sam had made sure to become somewhat of a regular at The Vanity. She made sure to commit each and every worker to memory, even went out of her way to tip a little extra every visit. It was just who she was. She loved to pay attention, and she loved to be aware.
She did not, however, love to be confused.
From her spot on a cracked leather couch, she sits with a drink in her hand, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, and she watches you move. The colored lights run over your body like waves on a shore, black lace the only thing stopping you from being fully exposed. It's euphoric, the way you move. It's familiar and free, icy hot. Sam takes a pull of her drink.
------
"You've got a private booking, honey," your boss calls as you fuss with your hair in the vanity mirror. She's a firecracker of a woman, short and curvy. The voice of a smoker mixed with the tone of a caretaker. "Booth five."
It hadn't taken you long to understand the inner workings of your place of employment. Annoyingly, nothing was ever straightforward, and booth five was not an exception to this rule.
You'd learned that an hour with one of the dancers in booth five had to cost more than your rent; which, albeit, didn't say much. It was the coldest spot in the whole club, nothing but dark red walls and a single black couch, and you couldn't really tell if it was the air vents or the dark aura that made you shiver when you passed it.
This is the first time anyone has requested for you to be in there.
"Um," your voice is steady as you turn around, smoothing a hand over non existent fabric out of nervous habit, "Is it cool if Amber takes this one?"
A beat passes.
"The patron requested for it to be you." If she notices the way your heart drops, she doesn't mention it. Only smiles crookedly and nods, effectively dismissing you from the comfort of being alone.
The beat of your heart doubles that of the music as you walk out of the room, a little unsure and a little irratic. Your heels feel too tall, your chest too tight.
Dancing was different. Dancing didn't bring forth any unwanted social interaction. Sure, there was the occasional creep, but they never really bothered you much when you could tune them out with thoughts of being beneath your covers with hot Chinese food and your cat curled up on your lap.
This was intimate. This was private and there was really no practical way of getting out of it.
You're sure you're going to pass out when you reach the outside of the booth, nothing but a thin curtain separating you from the unknown man waiting inside. Is he married? Is he demanding? Does he expect anything more than a lap dance from you?
A job is a job, you remind yourself, breathing deeply once, twice before stepping inside.
The air is charged. Static pulses around you. So its a woman. There's a woman a few feet in front of you.
She sits there, back against the couch and legs spread like she owns the place, shirt slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. She's tall and dark and has the look of someone who's grown accustomed to getting what she wants one way or another. Her eyes drop down your figure, lingering at certain parts unabashedly. They run over every inch of you slowly, methodically. She wets her lips.
"Hello." She speaks. Her voice is fire and ice. It's raspy and smooth, dark and calculated and so insanely perfect that it makes your ears ring a little.
It's your turn to say something, anything, really. You really do try to greet her, even open your mouth for a second before promptly shutting it again.
"It's reasonable to expect a greeting after one says hello, is it not?" Her brow raises. It seems that all it takes for you to gain your composure is a little confrontation.
You close the still open door and take a step forward, trapping a palpable tension in the room along with the sound of muffled music.
"Sorry about that, I just wasn't expecting... this." Amusement flashes in her eyes. "You weren't expecting a woman?" She questions, patting the space beside her and signaling for you to sit.
There's room for her to scoot over and create a comfortable amount of space between your bodies, but that doesn't seem like something she wants.
Your body moves without your mind's consent, "no, I wasnt," you answer, taking your seat.
She hums, the scent of her cologne wafting over you like a drug. "Disappointed?" she asks, bottom lip puffed out in a teasing pout.
The couch is cold beneath you, but that doesn't stop the fire from rushing to your cheeks. Nervously, you run a hand through your hair and smile, trying not to let her undeniable smoothness get in the way of yours.
"Oh, hardly," you let out a raspy huff of laughter and you can't help the way your eyes flit to her mouth.
A smirk tugs at her lips, pout dropping entirely. "Well aren't you fiery."
"Why did you ask for me?" you pry, gaze hooded.
"Why wouldn't I?" She questions, tone serious and eyes on yours. The air feels thick around you.
She truly is a beautiful woman, silky black hair and dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes. The muscles in her arms pull at the fabric surrounding them. You suddenly feel underdressed.
"Amber normally takes this booth," you offer truthfully.
Amber was a favorite amongst the club. She was all dark smiles and sinful moves. You appreciated her for her wit and ability to seem completely calm at all times; a skill you wish you had.
Her hand drops to the bare flesh of your upper thigh. "I didn't ask for Amber, did I?"
Sam had interacted with the girl numerous times. She'd been working here since that first night and was undoubtedly beautiful, but she didn't feel drawn to Amber like she did you. Her body didn't light up when she saw her like it did with you. You were different.
"What's your name?" you pry.
The heat of her gaze along with that of her palm on your thigh sends jolts down your spine. You can see the muscles in her jaw move as she grits her teeth, swallowing hard.
"Sam."
"Why did you ask for me?" you ask again, eyes on her dark and blown pupils. Your own gaze is hooded, lashes low as you look up at her.
She smiles wolfishly, teeth flashing. "Can't a girl want to get to know someone?"
"Well," you look down at her mouth, "I guess when you put it that way."
The air around you seemed to grow thick, tension lacing through it. Her aura was intoxicating, the way it consumed you so quickly, made you want to give her everything.
She hums, tightening her grip on your thigh, "For such a pretty girl you sure do ask a lot of questions," the words fall from her lips, tone low and dripping with want.
"Yeah?" You smile.
"Yes." She shoots back.
"Really?"
She ignores you, looking at you so intensely you almost think you did something wrong.
"Can I kiss you?"
You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you can't help it. When she kisses you it's softer than you expect it to be, like she's testing the waters. Her hand runs up your thighs, teases its way to your hip and squeezes the flesh there. It makes your head spin and your heart race, heat settling in your lower stomach.
Teeth graze your bottom lip as she pulls back a little. "Come here," The woman breathes into your mouth. She guides you onto her lap, smiling and leaning further into the couch. You have to arch forward to kiss her again, something that isn't an accident on her part.
Hands grip at your waist, your hips, your ass. She's deepening the kiss like it's pushing life into her and she can't get enough. it's a needy, panting scene as her lips and tongue slide over yours.
She kisses you like you've never been kissed, skill and need intertwining into a moment that makes you dizzy. She's all soft lips and rough teeth, nipping and sucking and soothing.
The musky scent of her cologne messes with your head and you can't stop your hips from moving, seeking pressure to tame the heat inside of you.
She trails her lips down to your neck, hand pulling at your hair to tilt your head back. "That's it, baby," Sam coos, teeth scraping under your jaw, "use my leg." She shifts the two of you before you can do anything, moving you to straddle her thigh. Her lips latch onto a sensitive spot on your neck as she pushes her leg up and into you.
"Fuck," you gasp out, gripping her shoulders and arching further into her. The position gives her mouth easy access to your chest.
The fabric of your lace bra is easy for her to move to the side, baring your hardened nipple to her.
"You're so pretty," She groans beneath you, pressing her tongue to the sensitive bud.
Pleasure shoots through you and you suppress a moan at the feeling of her skilled mouth against you. She's pulling at your hips, guiding their movements as you rock into her. It's hard to remember where you are, how any of your coworkers can walk in if they want to. All you can think about is how muscular her leg is through her pants as it presses into your clit in just the right way, how strong her hands are as they grasp at your body like it's her lifeline.
It's almost embarrassing, how worked up this stranger has you. She's touching you like she knows your body, and you can feel your wetness soaking through your fabric. Truth be told, you'd been wet since she first spoke, voice smokey and addicting.
She sucks your tit into her mouth, tongue lashing at your nipple and you have to push her away before you get loud. She protests as you send her back to leaning against the couch, but ultimately keeps quiet when you bury your head in her neck to muffle your moans.
"That's it, just like that pretty girl," She whispers in your ear while you grind against her, leg rubbing your clit just right each time. "You sound so pretty."
Needy whines and sighs escape your throat, lips pressed to her neck while she pushes her thigh harder into you. She hums at the feeling, sound deep and rasped.
You would be disappointed in yourself for being so close this fast, and over the clothes no less, but you can't feel anything other than the pressure in your lower stomach building and building.
"It's so good," you admit breathily into her neck, nails digging into her upper back through the button up. You can feel the firm muscles there, and you can't help but picture them rippling as she fucks you.
"What's so good?" she asks like she already knows the answer.
Her voice sends you spiraling further, the almost taunting tone laced in her words. "The way you touch me."
She laughs lowly, "Oh? You close?" Her head turns as she presses a kiss to your cheek, you pull your head out of her neck and look her in the eyes.
"Use your hand," you order, grabbing her right wrist and dragging it towards where you want it.
The look that washes over her almost pushes you over the edge, the way she listens to your command and presses her fingertips to your clit.
The texture of the fabric rubbing against you feels overwhelmingly good, tension building in your body. You watch her with your eyes half open and your lips parted, watch as she drinks you in with her eyes.
Everything about her is skilled, the way she moves her hand in hard circles and pushes into you. Her free hand wraps around your neck gently and pushes you back a bit so that she can see more of you, your free nipple and the blush spreading across your chest. The action combined with the slight pressure on your neck makes your eyes roll back, a curse falling from your lips.
"Faster. Fuck, Sam," you tilt your head back and move with her hand, "I'm so close."
She listens so good, movements speeding up just how you asked. It feels so good, the warmth spreading throughout your body and coiling in your stomach. You're panting needily, orgasm rushing towards you, its presence overbearing.
"So bossy," She teases.
A slew of words grace your lips, body falling forward to mask the volume of your moans in the crook of her neck. She moves with precision, never once slowing down or faltering.
"Come on, baby," She urges, "cum on my hand."
It only takes a few more movements before you're doing just that, body tensing up and shuddering above her. The orgasm hits you like a bullet train and drags itself out, lasting longer than any other you'd ever had.
The feeling of her arm around your back, fingers still moving on your clit to guide you through makes it last longer. Her voice is in your head, grounding you as she whispers.
Her hand is gone from your clit and her neck is sweaty from the combined body heat by the time you pull back, shaking slightly. The reality of the situation doesn't hit you, just lingers in the back of your mind as you look at her.
"Hi," you say, hair sticking to your forehead slightly.
"Hi," She smiles sweetly back. "Sorry about the hickeys, I got a little carried away."
Your nipple hurts a little from the intensity with which she sucked at it, and you know your neck is riddled with marks.
"It's okay," you smile back, "but you'll have to be the one to let my boss know where they came from."
Her smile turns sheepish, though you can tell she doesn't regret leaving them. "Only if I can see you again," her arms tighten around your waist, lips brushing yours.
"Deal."
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hauntedfictionland · 9 months
Text
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It's always the sweet, nice, innocent friend that turns out to be a hidden psychopathic mastermind.
SCREAM 4 (2011) | SCREAM 6 (2023) Director. Wes craven
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toournextadventure · 3 months
Text
a novel life pt.3
Summary: You admit a few things to Sam, and finally she starts to feel a little more normal. Almost as if Ghostface was truly a thing of the past. Almost.
Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: mentions of Scream-typical violence, mentions of trauma, light swearing Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4)
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Oh you had messed up. You had messed up so badly. Why hadn’t you told Sam about Ghostface all those weeks ago? It was certainly far too late to tell her now, it had happened last year. Okay, slight exaggeration, you had simply passed into the New Year last week but still!
And now it was too late. You didn’t know why, it just was.
“Can you hand me that pen?” Sam asked.
You hummed and handed her what was on the table, still staring off into the distance. The television was on in your apartment and you couldn’t have told a single soul what was on. Perhaps it was the news. It was usually the news, you liked to keep up to date with everything.  If you had time, you would even split the screen between all news stations so you could compare all sides of information.
It was a miracle you had managed to keep Sam as long as you had.
“I think I’ll fuck J on the coffee table in an hour, is that okay?”
“Yes darling, whatever you want,” you said as your mind continued to race through possibilities.
You straightened up and quickly turned to look at her.
“I beg your pardon?” You asked, her words finally forcing its way through the plethora of thoughts to the forefront of your mind. “No, it’s absolutely not okay.”
Sam smiled and placed the remote on the table. Which you supposed you had handed her instead of a pen. Because of course you had, why would you hand her the pen she had so clearly asked for? She placed a warm hand on your jaw and you couldn’t help but lean into it.
“What’s going on in your head?” She asked far softer than she had any right to. “You’re usually not this distracted.”
You didn’t want to tell her. It felt like a betrayal of her trust that you hadn’t told her right after it had happened, how could you come back from it now? What excuse did you have other than you were afraid? Being afraid certainly wasn’t going to win you any favours, not with the Ghostface Murder family.
A mental note popped up to never, never call them that to their faces.
You should tell her.
No you shouldn’t.
Yes you should.
No.
Fine.
“I saw Ghostface the night I was buying your stockings,” you said rather unceremoniously.
Sam looked at you like you had grown a second head. Oh lord, had you grown a second head? Oh you bet you had, you absolute fool. Your mother had told you time and time again, there were consequences to lying. And now that you had finally come clean, you were facing the consequences. You hoped Sam still liked you with a second head.
“You saw Ghostface?” She asked in a whisper.
“I know I should have told you,” you said quickly, “but to tell you the truth, I was too afraid to tell anyone so instead I simply kept my mouth shut.”
Sam still said nothing. She almost looked afraid, which you could understand. You yourself were rather afraid as well. There had been no news of Ghostface running around New York again, but you knew for a fact he was out and about. And judging by the look on Sam’s face, she knew it was the truth as well.
Oh, this was precisely why you had kept it from her! You hadn’t intended to terrify her, oh no, quite the contrary. You wanted nothing more than for her to not fear the masked delinquent that habited wherever she existed. It was rather unfair when you started to think about it. No surprise at all that Tara was untrustful of… well, everyone.
“Promise me you won’t try to find him again,” Sam finally said, her voice far more vulnerable than it had any right to be.
“My dear,” you said, doing your best to emulate her tone. You reached out to hold her hand in a tight grasp. “I would rather defend my thesis a second time than try to find that… hoodlum again.”
Her laugh, though nervous, was beautiful. There was nothing quite like the sound of Sam’s laughter. Even when unsettled, there was a heartiness to it that called to your soul. It touched the deepest parts of you, coaxing them out of their hiding spots until you were laid bare before her, eagerly awaiting her next move.
“I don’t think anyone has ever called Ghostface a “hoodlum” before,” she said before squeezing your hand.
“Well they should,” you said, all joking put aside. “Or perhaps even a coward,” you continued. “Only a coward prevents their victim from seeing the face of their attacker.”
Sam leaned against your arm as she grabbed her textbook again. “You’re talking pretty big for someone who was supposedly terrified of him.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t get within one hundred feet of him,” you clarified. “I’m bold, not brave, my love.”
Her weight settled into you a little more as she pulled her knees up and rested the textbook on top of them. She was doing her best to stay calm; that was what gave her away. The faux-relaxation and attempt to act like you hadn’t just been talking about the person that had terrorised not only her, but her family for years.
And shame on you for bringing it back up again.
You wrapped an arm around her, allowing her to truly sink into you as you both continued your studies. It was not, nor would it ever be, an easy thing to live with. You hadn’t experienced it long, but you could already imagine the constant horror. There was something horrific, not about the immediate threat, but about the ever-looming fear that it could be a threat.
Maybe Tara’s suspicion of you was making more and more sense.
—---
Days passed by without even the slightest hint of Ghostface returning. You kept the news on (when Sam was away) in case there was talk of any familiar murders, but there was nothing. Well, nothing outside of the usual murder and carnage that could be found all over New York City. The more you watched the local news, the more convinced you were that you were not living within a safe city.
Then there was the neverending curiosity that desperately clawed itself up from the deepest recesses of your brain. You hadn’t wanted to think of that… that criminal. Not his motives, his history, none of it. There had been an attempt to push it back down. You had even asked your mother for advice, not wanting to bring it up to Sam in an effort - however futile - to keep her away from it all. Again.
She had not been on your side.
“Just ask her, dear,” your mother said. In the background of the call, you could hear Jeopardy playing on the old television. “If you want the knowledge, you ask the expert.”
You sighed as you flopped down on your own couch. “I don’t want to upset her though.”
Subconsciously, you turned on Jeopardy to watch it with your parents. Just like old times.
“She’ll tell you if it upsets her,” she said. Then, quieter, “what is Metamorphoses.”
“Gosh darn, hon, at least give me a chance to guess it,” you heard your father say. It was a faux complaint; his laugh gave him away.
“He needs to guess faster,” you mumbled, not entirely to anyone in particular.
“Did ya hear that?” Your mother started to blab. “Our little Doctor says you need to guess faster.” She barely contained her giggle.
“Don’t tell him that,” you huffed.
“Well I’m sorry we’re not all fancy pants doctors, kiddo,” he said, far too loud. He still couldn’t really comprehend how phones worked. At least he tried. “Takes some of us a bit of time to think, ya know?”
“What is the knee,” your mother said.
“See?” Your dad groaned. “Got me all distracted, I can’t keep up.”
“Then let me let you go,” you said quickly before either one of your parents could say anything else.
“Don’t forget to ask Samantha,” your mother said with an air of nonchalance that you only dreamed of achieving.
“I will,” you said. The commercial had ended and you knew if you waited much longer, you’d hear your parents arguing over the answer again. “I’ll talk to you both tomorrow.”
“Tell Samantha she needs to watch Jeopardy with us some time,” your dad called out.
“Good night,” you insisted.
“Night, hon,” both of your parents mumbled before you finally managed to end the call.
You loved them, you really did. But the last thing you were going to do anytime soon was invite Sam to watch Jeopardy. You wanted to keep a girlfriend, not lose one. Although maybe it would be the mundanity that she needed. There was nothing less exciting than watching game shows with your parents, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Who is Castro,” you mumbled to yourself before the screen showed your exact answer.
It was truly amazing you had kept a girlfriend for as long as you had so far.
—---
“You’re quiet,” Sam said softly.
You looked up from the abyss that was your wine. The restaurant of the week was a bit more luxurious, “fancy,” as J called it. Tara called it “ridiculous,” but you kept your mouth shut; she would be going on a date to the same place within the month. Her opinion didn’t change the fact that it was a lovely restaurant, only made more beautiful by the woman sitting across from you.
“I’m sorry,” you said just as softly. “I’m just thinking.”
She leaned forward on her arms. “Anything in particular?”
Yes, your mind started, would you truly consider yourself a child of Ghostface? After all, Billy Loomis is technically the forefather of the Ghostface lineage, but he didn’t raise you. Would you still consider him your father? Or, perhaps he is your father but not your dad. Some people make that distinction, you know. Does such a thought bother you-
“-My parents are coming to visit in two weeks,” you said with a calm smile that contradicted your internal monologue. “Would you like to meet them?”
Now that made Sam freeze. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at you. If you looked closer, you almost thought you saw her jaw nearly drop. Oh, so she could fight off Ghostface twice and yet she couldn’t meet your parents? They weren’t so bad! Well, not really, just in a different way. Okay, maybe they were a little intimidating, but not in a bad way!
“Are you afraid of my parents?” You asked as you both sat up, sitting back far enough for the waiter to place your food before you. He pursed his lips and attempted not to smile.
“I’m not afraid of them,” she said indignantly. “I’ve just,” she shrugged, “never had to meet someone’s parents before.”
“Never?” You asked. It was easy enough to maintain eye contact - which your mother claimed was important during serious conversations - while picking at your food. “Not once?”
“Not really, no,” she said. She, however, was not making eye contact. “I mean, there was a boyfriend or two in highschool, but I already knew their parents so it doesn’t count.”
“What about Agent Reed?” You asked before taking another bite of your dinner.
Sam smiled softly. “Already knew her parents too.”
“Right, right,” you said with your own nod before finally looking down at your food. You had nearly forgotten what you had ordered to begin with.
You supposed you couldn’t blame her for being worried. No, you couldn’t blame her at all. Though not quite on the same level - although it completely was - you had been as terrified to meet Tara. Though not her parent, Tara was the only family she had left, aside from the twins. That was terrifying enough without technically being a parent.
Then there was the fear that, although you knew Sam would never admit it aloud, she was afraid of parents. Perhaps it was from the fear that they wouldn’t approve of her as her own mother had made painfully clear. There was no gentle way to tell her that her mother was not a good mother. Parents were rarely disappointed in their children, even on the worst days.
Not every family was as tragic as hers.
“Would it help if I told you about them?” You asked slowly. “Then you can decide if you would like to meet them or not.”
Sam chewed her food thoughtfully before looking up at you through her eyelashes. You hated when she did that, truly you did. It made you fold within an instant. She knew it too. Samantha Carpenter knew what she could do to you, and she used her wiles shamelessly. A femme fatale indeed.
“That would actually be nice,” she finally said. There was a raspiness to her voice that she kept reserved for whenever she wanted something.
You didn’t know what exactly she wanted, but you would have given her the world just to find out.
“Alright then,” you said softly, almost inaudibly as you swallowed harshly. “Where to start?”
Throughout the rest of the evening, you told her of your parents. Of their childhoods, or at least what you were aware of, and their accomplishments. You spun tales of their “wild years,” as they had called it back in the ‘70s. She slowly scrolled through the photos on your phone, the ones you had scanned from their physical photos.
By the time you had ordered dessert - a tiramisu that was to die for - you had moved your chair closer to hers. You had told her of their professions; your mother was a librarian at the small elementary school, and your father worked at the local pharmacy. Nothing fancy, nothing to brag about, but they were proud of their jobs.
All the while, Sam listened intently. You could feel her eyes on you the entire time you talked. It was as if she was staring into your soul, trying to pick apart what could be a lie and what was fact. A painful realisation of just how deep her familial trauma ran, even though she and Tara would never admit it aloud.
“That’s about it, really,” you finally said with a shrug. The signed check had been sitting in front of you for far longer than you could say. “My parents’ entire story in the span of a singular dinner date.”
You… wouldn’t think too hard about the fact you had spent an entire dinner date talking about your parents.
“They sound like good people,” Sam said. Her hand was warm in yours.
“They’re rather eccentric in their own way,” you said, “but they mean well.”
You didn’t ask the question yet. It would be up to Sam whether she wanted to meet your parents or not, and you certainly weren’t going to push her one way or another. This was wholly her decision, you had simply laid out enough for her to make an informed decision of her own.
“Would they like me?” She asked softly.
There was a desperation on her face that she rarely let show. Sam was a tough woman; not just physically. But something about this was making her second guess herself and her own abilities. It was preposterous, though you knew one couldn’t fight their own insecurities so easily. The very look on her face broke your heart.
You lifted her hand to cup her cheek, which she eagerly leaned into.
“My darling,” you said gently, “they already do.”
The smallest of smiles lifted the corners of her mouth. Just as with every time you saw her smile, you knew you would do anything for her if she but looked at you the way she was in that moment. All bright eyes and carefree smile and as beautiful as the day you had first seen her.
“I want to meet them,” she said. “If it’s alright.”
You leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “It’s always alright.”
—---
Your parents loved Sam.
On top of that, your parents loved Sam and Tara. The literal moment they had found out Sam had a little sister, they had demanded you have her over as well. You had done your best not to eavesdrop, but when Sam called it was clear Tara wanted no part of it. However, for better or worse, the decision was made and Sam agreed to bring Tara over the next evening.
Then you all made the mistake of mentioning J. You should have known better, truly you should have. You knew your parents and their proclivity for practically adopting everyone into the family. They had picked it up in the ‘70s and had never gone back. Tara was practically blackmailed into bringing J with her the next night.
Your parents took to all of them like they were blood.
“You three better start practising,” your dad pointed out when the three newest family members were unusually silent while The Price is Right played in the background. “We only take it easy on ya the first time.”
“Dad,” you warned as you continued putting up Trivial Pursuit.
Your mom had wiped the floor with everyone, as usual.
“Don’t listen to him, hon,” your mom said. She was sitting proudly on her Winner’s Chair, as she had dubbed it after only the second win of the night. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“You sure about that?” J asked, their accent almost a comical contrast to your mother’s. “I felt like a fish outta water.”
“Practice makes perfect,” your mom said with a smile that was far too cheery for the humiliation she had instilled upon you all.
You would never forgive her for embarrassing you in front of Sam.
“We should get going,” Tara said rather reluctantly. “We have to be somewhere in the morning.”
“Where?” J asked.
The disappointment on Tara’s face was worthy of a picture.
“Brunch with your parents,” she said quietly.
“Oh shit, I forgot,” J said. Their voice, on the other hand, was far too loud for the situation. It was rather comical; you didn’t know how those two had ended up together, but their contrast was a work of art. “We gotta go.”
“Before ya head out,” your dad said as everyone stood up to tell them bye, “we gotta hug it out since we’re leavin’ tomorrow.”
J and Tara shared a look before looking at you. Right. None of them were really touchy-feely people. Being around your parents for the week had erased that possibility from your mind. With your bunch, you were all touching, hugging, patting each other on the back, whatever you could get away with. There hadn’t even been a thought in your mind that everyone else was a bit hesitant with their physical affection.
“You don’t have to,” you said softly with a shake of your head.
“Oh, are ya not a hugger?” Your mom asked.
“How’s about a handshake, bud?” Your dad said just as quickly.
“Handshake works great,” J said with their stereotypical toothy grin.
Your parents shook both J’s and Tara’s hands, telling them how lovely it was to meet them, inviting them over for Christmas and Easter and 4 of July and every other holiday they could think of. You walked the both of them out of the apartment while your parents continued to shout invitations to them.
Come over if ya need to get away for a weekend.
I’ll mail ya both some homemade cookies soon.
Expect somethin’ for your birthdays.
They didn’t stop offering things until the door closed behind the couple and it was only Sam left. Not that it stopped your parents, of course, they just simply turned their invitations towards her. Your parents were overwhelming, you knew they were. They meant well, they were just… a lot.
Yet Sam managed to handle it with grace and charm, and you simply fell more and more in love with her. She had your parents laughing, smiling, cracking jokes that they normally wouldn’t when they were alone with you. Something about her brought out a slightly less reserved side of them that you didn’t think you had ever seen.
And when she looked up and met your eyes as they continued talking with her, there was a familiar sparkle that you didn’t see as often as you would like, especially after hearing that Ghostface was back. She looked like your Sam, the one who had joked with you and teased you about your proclivity for books. The one you had woken up with last summer without a single care in the world.
The one you were utterly devoted to and would have sacrificed anything to make happy. That was your Sam once again.
—---
It was a beautiful late-winter day. The air was still a bit chilly, and you were bundled tightly in your warm coat that went down to your ankles. One of your hands was shoved deep into the pockets while the other held a small bouquet of flowers. The sweet bodega owner on the corner of your street was notorious for having the most beautiful flowers, and you now had to agree.
You were supposed to be home grading essays while Sam studied. One of the few relegated nights a week where you were both at your own homes. But you had missed her during the day, and you wouldn’t apologise for it. On the walk home, you had decided you would surprise her. After all, everyone loved flowers, didn’t they?
The streets were as busy as they usually were, but that was alright. It was a rather lovely evening, and it gave you more time to think about Sam. There was no doubt in your mind that anyone, possibly everyone would have teased you for how much of a… what did J call it? A simp you were for her. Yet you didn’t mind. You would have done anything for her without an ounce of hesitation.
Your mind started replaying the nights you spent with her. Some more exciting than others, though none of them a bore. The nights you spent together in each other’s bed, keeping quiet at her place while not bothering to do the same at yours. Or the nights you would just lay there, tracing scars and telling stories. Hers were far more interesting than yours, that was for sure.
Would it be too soon to start questioning if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her? It had been nearly a year, if your memory served you well. Not the longest length of time, but you knew plenty of people that had questioned it much sooner. Would you want to spend the rest of your life with her?
Yes. Yes, you would. Being able to wake up to Sam every morning, hair splayed out on your pillow even as she insisted she was on her own. To be there for her when the nightmares and fears became too much. A shoulder to lean on, to cry on, a hand to hold when she needed it. You wanted to be by her side through it all, the good, the bad, the fun, the terrifying.
Nothing sounded better than being able to call her yours for the rest of your lives.
You didn’t bother buzzing to be let in; someone already downstairs let you in, having recognised you, you supposed. It wouldn’t have been too far of a stretch, you had frequented the apartment complex often enough. You were almost certain you knew the Carpenters’ neighbours better than they did.
Each step up the stairs had your heart racing faster. You were of the mind of a giddy school child, seeing their crush for the first time after the weekend. It was a little silly, but you didn’t care. Your parents had instilled in you the ability to be proud of your tendencies that most would find a little ridiculous. And you would never be shamed for wanting to see your girlfriend.
There were a few muffled voices behind the door when you approached the apartment. It wasn’t unusual, they were the centre hub for their friends. Sometimes the twins would come over, sometimes Anika would come around for a short escape, sometimes all three would arrive at once. On occasion you had even seen Quinn, though she had moved out some months ago and only frequented the bigger gatherings.
You opened the door quietly, doing your best not to disturb whoever else was inside. Slowly slipping into the apartment and easing the door shut, you did your best to keep the flowers as presentable as possible. After all, that was the surprise you had spent so long picking out. It would do you no good to mess them up before you could even give them to Sam. You turned around-
-the flowers fell to the floor with a thump.
“Oh shit.”
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coldcardi · 11 months
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scream ai characters responding to "If I texted you at 3 am, asking for you to pick me up cause I ended up drunk in another city, would you do that?"
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l0tt1emy · 2 months
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amber freeman alphabet
A/n: There's a bit of smut, Amber is a bit perverted here but I know you like it! just weird writing and maybe some fluff..
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☆ミAdmiration( what does she absolutely adore about you) She sure loves how much you defend her even though in most cases she's wrong, but you don't know
☆ミBody( What is her favorite part of your body?) Everyone knows that Amber is a big fan of PDA, whether showing you off to her friends or something similar, she doesn't have a specific part of your body that she likes the most, but she's obsessed with your neck, always giving soft kisses, sometimes sloppy but only when she is very excited and likes to tease you
☆ミ cuddling (how she likes to cuddle) This girl knows she has a strange habit but it has become so frequent that she always hugs you with one hand on your butt and the other on your wrist, practically always but the exception is that she puts both hands on your waist while you pass the arms around her neck, she just wants the best positions to be able to feel her whole body
☆ミdates( Whats her ideal date?) you know it's not amber if she doesn't try to make dates at the parties she throws at her house, she's chaotic and for her, the two of you at a party at her house is the perfect date (no one will be watching, they're too busy kissing, and trying to have sex with each other) and she knows that what she wants will always happen, but if you force her to have meetings in calmer places she will also accept it!
☆ミemotions (how does she express her emotions around you) It's easier than it seems to find out when something is wrong with Amber, whether it's when in the middle of the group everything you're saying she scoffs at how you're talking about party plans and she blurts out "you better buy a zipper for your pants, someone will try to get into her" and scoffs softly, rolling her eyes, and it's not in a way that you laugh, it's in a way that you know she's mad at you!!
☆ミFamilly (does she want one) I don't know, Amber loves you but... you and she are young, she doesn't think about having a family, she loves you and thinks about enjoying it with you, without children
☆ミholding hands (does she like to hold hands) She likes to hold hands, but she's more used to pulling you by the wrist in places...(how aggressive TT) either when you're very drunk, or when you're getting lost and when following an unknown man to her parties while she is talking to tara
☆ミinjuries (what would she do if you got hurt) She will unconsciously argue with you for hurting yourself while you can see the tension in her shoulders as she looks for medicine, whether it was her fault or whether she hurt you unintentionally, she will simply stop making fun of you or making fun jokes. , especially if she is a ghostface with you and you got hurt helping her, she will blame herself a lot
☆ミjokes (does she like to joke around) If you date Amber you know how she is, this girl plays so much that sometimes you want to put something in her mouth to make her shut up, in any situation, whether she is angry, sad, jealous or happy, she always manages to add a joke, her humor is like that
☆ミkisses (how does she like to kiss you) Speaking of the time of day, normally she loves to kiss your cheek and the back of your neck, and sometimes when she is affectionate she kisses your whole face, now...at night things are different...she loves kissing your neck, sucking and rubbing bites on your shoulder and in very visible places, and also on your thighs, always teasing you, trailing kisses from your thigh to your dripping core and gives a kiss to your swollen and red clit and gives her that arrogant smile of hers and says "you Does it need to be touched here dear?"
☆ミlove (what’s her love language) Accepting your nonsense without even questioning it, it's like when you want to try to kill someone (r!ghostface) they don't even know who they are or what they did but that's okay, when you tried to break into someone's house to get something and they didn't even I knew who it was but helped you so that if the police arrived, they knew you would be slow and would get caught!
☆ミMemory (what’s her favourite memory together) God..this is going to be weird but obviously it was when you agreed to go along with her stupid plan, god she thought you were going to break up with her, she wouldn't have told you if you hadn't seen her clothes and mask under the bed while looking for your makeup brush that fell, and also going in that direction one of her memories was when you killed your first person and god...she thought you were so hot
☆ミNighttime (how does sleeping with her look like) You can't have a peaceful night with her, she just grabs you, she's the biggest spoon and loves to grab you while putting her face on your neck, so she DOESN'T accept sleeping facing away from her, she needs to wake up to your smell that she is addicted
☆ミOddity (what’s a quirky thing about her) make fun of people along with you, whether it's when someone is wearing ugly clothes or stinking, they get in your ear and say "God, I think I should skip school so I don't have to see/feel this.." and when you're an idiot and I laugh at that and she gives the most arrogant smile you've ever seen! It makes me have thoughts of mean!amber..
☆ミPet names (what does she like to call you) It depends on her mood and yours, if it's a normal day she just calls you "honey" but if you're mad at her, she calls you "baby" she knows how to convince you
☆ミQuality time (how does she like to spend time with you) it depends... at your house she marathons slasher films, she drives to your house with snacks, hamburgers and chocolates and covers you both with the blanket while you watch films that for you are scarier than anything else but she holds your hand and says that If you feel scared, you can hug her and close your eyes <33
☆ミRush (does she rush into things) That depends, after you started dating she started hugging you and giving hints that she wanted to have sex with you, she didn't force you and waited a long time until you wanted to.
☆ミSecrets (how open is she with you) before you found out that she was ghostface she was a little hesitant to tell you literally EVERYTHING, she didn't hide anything except that (I think?>~<) and after you found out and she explained everything and you believed her she told you everything, even her plans and everything she planned to do
☆ミTime (how long it took her to confess) It's time to think that you like her, she is also observant and even though she has a high ego she would still ask Tara for advice on this, if Tara said you liked her and only Amber didn't saw this, she got up and told you (Tara and Mindy forced her)
☆ミUpset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset) She knows she's irritating, and it's very easy for you to get irritated or jealous, she knows that there's nothing that a kiss and sweet words can't solve, she knows how to manipulate you very well and has you in the palm of her hand (not that words are lie
☆ミVisibility (is she afraid of the public opinion) public opinion? God, she doesn't even know what that is, she lives with her hands on your ass, and always with her face in your neck, she says naughty things in front of you and makes you blush in front of the whole group and everyone is like "??" because they don't know what she said in your ear, but from her mischievous smile it wasn't something innocent
☆ミWarrior (how often do you fight) As incredible as it seems and because of how psychopathic and strange Amber is and loves to kill people, you don't fight as much as it seems? because I don't know, I just know that she's a bit of a softie and when you fight she knows that you won't chase her, how would she sleep without you?
☆ミX-ray (is she able to read you) more than you would like, so far it has only been happy things but we can never forget that even though she is a perverted prankster she always knows when something is wrong, or when you are uncomfortable, she would not hesitate to kill the person who made you sad
☆ミZen (what makes her feel calm) Watching movies at your house while you play with your phone, she knows you don't like those movies and just watching them while she warms up to you makes her happy, you don't even need to watch or talk to her!
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lowkeyerror · 6 months
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A New Victim pt2
Sam Carpenter x Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Notes: Will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually
Summary: Now you're a character in the story. It doesn't sit well with you.
Part 1 | part 3 | Masterlist
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“ No, she’s lying,” Chad dismissed your claims immediately. “ Remember what she said at the park. This is a fucking prank. It’s not real. He’s not he-“
“ Chad,” Mindy cut him off. “ Look at her.”
It was clear to everyone in the room that there was something wrong with you. That whatever emotions you were feeling were real.
The other selling point was that Sam herself was convinced that you were being honest. She was the most skeptical one of the group. However, there was no doubt in her mind that you were not deceiving them.
“ I was on my way home after you guys left. It felt like someone was watching me. I thought I was going crazy, but then I looked around. He was across the street, watching me. He dragged his finger across his neck. I felt like I couldn’t move that’s when Sam bumped into me,” you recounted the events clearly.
“ He was watching us at the park,” Tara deduces.
Sam rubs her forehead, “ It probably looked like we were close. So the killer grouped you with us.”
“ What does that mean?” The fear in your voice made everyone at the group look at you with pity.
“ Welcome to the freak show,” Mindy says.
Anika shoves her girlfriend,” It means, that you’ve just got a bunch of new friends.”
“ Am I going to die?”
They group all share looks.
Sam puts her hand on your shoulder. There’s a fire in her eyes as looks at you, “ No, you’re not going to die. In this group we protect each other and that includes you now “
“ I think you should stay here for awhile Y/n,” Tara speaks softly.
You nod, still unable to fully process what this all means.
“ In the morning we can go to your place and pick up some of your stuff, ok?” This time the older Carpenter sister speaks to you.
You nod again. Your moments away from slipping back into the trance that you arrived in. Sam squeezes your hand lightly pulling you back into the light.
“ Y/n?”
You shake your head and stand abruptly, “ Can I use your bathroom real quick?”
Sam eyes you but agrees to take you, “ Follow me.”
Instead of escorting you to the public bathroom, she leads you to her room. You stand awkwardly as she rummages through her drawers.
She hands you some sweatpants and a t-shirt, “ Here, you can use my bathroom. Have a shower and um if you’re tired you can sleep in here.”
“ Thanks,” you’re grateful for the offer.
Usually you’d take a long shower, but you had a sense of paranoia about you. You were in there for less than 5 minutes.
Sam’s clothes feel big on you. They smell like her and that brings you some comfort. You quickly exit the bathroom to find her bedroom empty.
You stare at the bed for a long while debating on whether if you should lay there. You decide against it, thinking about where Sam would sleep if you were to take her bed.
You grab a pillow off her bed and then lay on the hardwood floor.  Sleep wasn’t going to come easy after the day you had. So you stared up at the ceiling trying to think about anything, but the killer.
“ Why are you on the floor?”
You turn to loom at the dark haired girl, “ I thought it’d be weird to take the bed from you.”
“ We’re going to share the bed,” Sam wasn’t asking or suggesting, she was telling you what it was going to be.
She extends her hand to help you off of the floor. You hesitantly grab it and she yanks you to your feet. Her grip is much stronger than you expected.
You slip into the bed, which is ten times better than the floor. Yet, you still don’t see yourself sleeping any time soon.
“ I’m going to shower really quick and then I’ll join you, ok?”
“ Ok.”
You want to wait for Sam. When she comes out you’ll go to sleep. That’s what you convince yourself. However it was far from the truth.
 When Sam gets out of the shower and into the bed your heart rate spikes. She's so close, she smells like vanilla, her skin is ever so slightly touching yours.
“ Y/n,” she says your name gently.
“ Hm.”
She turns so her body is facing yours, “ You need to rest.”
You sigh, “ I can’t.”
“ You’re safe here.”
You shake your head, “ How can you be so sure?”
Sam grabs one of your hands. Her hands aren’t soft like you imagined. They are worked and rough, but for some reason that brings you comfort.
“ I’m not going to let him hurt you.”
“ He doesn’t want to hurt me, he wants to kill me.”
Your anxieties begin to rise again. It almost feels like you’re seeing him across the street again. He’s watching you and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“ Look at me, Y/n.”
There’s something behind her eyes. It almost scares you. It’s dark and nearly sadistic.
“ I’m not scared of Ghostface. It doesn’t matter who is behind the mask because it always ends up the same for them. Dead or in jail. I will make sure of it."
You want to ask about the first time, but you decide against it. Instead you just nod at the woman’s words. However Sam could still feel the anxiety coming out of you.
She was hesitant, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Her hand intertwined with one of yours. The feeling of her hand in yours causes you to blush. Something you hope that Sam doesn’t take notice of in the dark. She does, but she doesn't comment on it. She’s trying to process her own feelings of warmth.
You squeeze her hand lightly as a thank you and it makes her smile a bit. It’s somewhere in the softness of that moment that Sam decides she’s going to protect you no matter what it takes.
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Taglist: @aiakuma @idkwhatiamdoingherebro
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