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salmonskinrolltf · 3 months

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Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

#roommates #straight to gay #masculinization #biker #redneck #jock #IQ drain

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bellatrixscurls · 1 year

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“we feel things for you” ♥︎ tyler galpin x reader x xavier thorpe

summary : xavier and tyler are in a relationship... but what happens when they start having feelings for their best friend?

warnings : smut, double penetration, pet names, teasing, tyler being a meanie, sub xavier, etc.

a/n : weak sex with xavier and tyler <3 i suck nskdjs i’m sorry.

xavier was unsure of many things, but his attraction toward you was not one of them. he didn’t know how to explain it. he had tyler, whom he loved, so still... why did he need you as well?

if he were to choose, he could never. you were their best friend and as well as tyler, you had been by his side always. he was fucked, he knew it. but the worst part was, he had to tell tyler as well.

“hey” xavier jumped as he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, his eyes widening as he looked up at his boyfriend, worried that he’d actually heard his thoughts. “what’s wrong?” tyler pursed his lips and sat down across from xavier.

“nothing-” the blond stopped himself with a sigh, he couldn’t lie to him. not when he looked so pure and clueless, so innocent. “y/n” he whispered.

tyler gave him a curious look, his hand covering his boyfriend’s. “as in, our friend y/n?”

“mhm” he responded, his eyes looking everywhere but at tyler. “we had a sleepover last night... we didn’t do nothing but, she fell asleep on my chest” xavier’s hand was shaking in his boyfriend’s hold, and he prayed tyler wouldn’t notice.

he did.

“yes?” he urged the boy to continue, gripping his hand to reassure him. “keep going, love. it’s just me.”

that’s when xavier’s face softened, his lips breaking into a dopey smile. of course, it was only him ─ his loving boyfriend, the one who’d always helped him when needed.

he felt a bit more confident now.

“when we were there, i felt something...” he whispered, even more confused. “i love you, please remember that” he looked up worriedly, his brows furrowed and his heart clenching at the thought of hurting tyler.

tyler smiled softly. “you want her, don’t you?”

“i- i mean, um... yes?” xavier stuttered, biting on his lip as he tried to find a suitable response. “and i know she wants us too, ty. i’m not crazy, i’ve seen the way she looks at you, even caught her staring at me a few times” he rushed to explain and tyler smiled to himself. even xavier knew that he was oblivious to almost everything, so the fact that he noticed was a suprise.

“she does, doesn’t she?” tyler smirked. “well, i’ve been thinking about her for a while too” xavier’s head snapped up, the confession leaving him flabbergasted. “mhm, yes i did. you can’t exactly say that you are surprised though. i like pretty things” he caressed xavier’s cheek, the boy melting into his palm instantly.

“let’s go find her, yeah?”

♥︎

xavier knew just where to find you ─ your dorm room. as crazy as it sounded, he was your roommate. you two had grown so close to each other that you had your parents convince principal weems to let you stay with him.

he knocked on the door and tyler gave him a weird look. “why would you do that?”

“yes?” you called softly from the other side of the door, closing your book and placing it behind you on the bed.

xavier cleared his throat, his eyes wide as he entered the room, with his boyfriend behind him.

“oh- x, you didn’t have to knock” you smiled softly at him, gulping when you noticed who was standing behind him. tyler.

his hazel eyes were on you as he waved awkwardly, and you returned it the same way.

“yes i know i’m sorry i-” he started rambling, but tyler quickly cut him off, although he was just as nervous, maybe more.

“y/n, we feel things for you” he spat out, his brows furrowing and his lips pursing at the way he said it ─ nothing like the speech they had planned on the way to evermore.

xavier’s shoulders dropped as he slapped his forehead. “oh man” he whispered.

“you mean.. you like me?” your eyes were wide and your heart was clenching at the mere thought of them liking you back. you’d tried so hard to stay away from both of them because you could never resist being touchy and loving on them all the time, so you didn’t want to ruin their relationship.

“yes!” xavier exclaimed, his hands in the air like he’d just won the cup. “we fucking love you, y/n/n. we want to be with you, please allow us.”

he was giving you the puppy eyes as if he had to convince you. he didn’t have to, from the moment they walked in, you were putty in their hands.

“i love you too” you confessed softly, taking their hands in yours. “kiss?”

“fuck yes” tyler’s breath quickened as he smashed his lip onto yours, his hands holding your waist ever so gently. you whimpered against his lips, your free hand that wasn’t in tyler’s hair, holding xavier’s tightly as you pulled him to you.

you pulled away from the kiss to rub your roommate’s cheek. he looked at you adoringly, his eyes shifting between your swollen lips and your teary eyes. you were so grateful.

“pretty” he whispered before his own lips grazed yours, softly kissing you, unlike tyler. he was gentle, and tyler was desperate, but in their own way, both of them wanted to have you.

xavier set his knee in between your parted legs on the bed, and you felt him come closer and closer, giving you an adrenaline rush. your hands came to grip his arms as his knee grazed your clothed core, and you had to break the kiss with a needy whimper.

your eyes were teary and red. you were so desperate for them, and they could see it.

“up” tyler instructed as you blushed, your eyes looking at the knee xavier was teasing you with. “there you go” tyler held your chin and you looked up at him, the tears threatening to spill any second. “why are you crying, lovie?”

your breath hitched in your throat. “cus i need you” you whimpered when tyler’s hand found the hem of your shirt, pulling up until your chest was revealed to them. you were not wearing a bra.

“fuck me” xavier moaned when he caught sight of your perked nipples, his knee bucking into your sensitive core.

“xavier” you moaned out and tyler saw it as his cue to move so he was behind you on the bed, his arms wrapping around your delicate waist.

“you like her tits, pretty boy?” he taunted, staring into xavier’s eyes as he tweaked one of your nipples, causing you to throw your head back.

“uh huh” he exhaled sharply, and you whined when you no longer felt his knee moving, and you look down, tyler’s hand gripping his boyfriend’s thigh.

“but why!” you exclaimed, shifting so you’d be able to hump his knee, but it was no use, as tyler’s other hand was gripping your waist as well.

he tutted softly, and your breath hitched as you felt his hand come down to your cunt, pulling your panties to the side. you shuddered at the feeling of his cold fingers against your wet, warm core, and it made tyler groan.

xavier was staring at the way tyler’s fingers played with your folds, spreading the wetness from your hole and onto your clit and lips. “you wanna taste, my love?” he asked his boyfriend, the submissive boy nodding frantically as he bent down, taking tyler’s fingers in his mouth, and sucking them dry.

it was a sight for sore eyes. the way tyler praised him, the way xavier moaned around his fingers because of you.

“fuck me please” you begged, and it was almost inaudible. but they heard you.

“who do you want to fuck, lovely?” tyler spoke softly as he nosed at your neck as he placed small kisses along the sensitive skin.

“both” you murmured, your hands shaking with the anticipation. “want you both inside of me... m-my pussy.”

god, your cheeks were so red.

xavier was acting like an eager puppy. by the time you were done speaking, his cock was springing out of his pants, deliciously red. he seemed to have lost his mind, like he only wanted your cunt, not you.

“he gets like this” tyler soothed your worries, kissing your cheek as you felt him rid himself of his pants as well. “he wants you so much, baby. tell him what to do, he won’t do anything unless you tell him to.”

your heart warmed at the thought. sure, xavier was a soft, gentle boy, but you never thought he’d be so obedient in the bedroom.

“can you please get inside of me, bubba?” you asked softly, warm eyes looking up at him.

he nodded, leaning in to peck your lips for a moment. he had his cock in his hand, and he shakily guided it to your pussy, moaning loudly when his tip grazed your clit, causing you to clench around positively... nothing.

his eyes rolled back as he sank into your pussy, his hand gripping the base of his cock. “feel good” he whimpered, falling forward so that his face was hiding against your neck.

“of course you do” tyler taunted, his free hand carding through xavier’s long hair before he was lifting your hips, so he could get inside of you too.

his hands were massaging your ass as he bottomed out inside of you, his face against the other side of your neck. “shit” you moaned loudly. you had both of them inside your pussy. both.

it was clearly not your first time, but they were already big as it was. so taking both of them was something else.

“hurt?” xavier looked at you worriedly, and you turned your head to the side to peck his lips. “no, feels so good” you whimpered and felt him relax against you.

“can i have one?” tyler feigned jealousy, and you hurried to smash your lips against his, holding him by his jaw. you clearly did not expect him to─

“t-tyler!” you cried out when he thrusted harshly into you, feeling as though you were split open, and he encouraged xavier to do the same.

“oops” tyler smirked, his hand sliding down to your stomach, and a bit lower until he found your clit. it was swollen and sensitive from xavier’s previous actions, but he did not care. he started pressing onto it like it was a real button.

xavier mewled against your skin, his hand coming up to hold tyler’s free one. tyler could feel his cock already start twitching, ‘poor baby’, he thought.

“how does it feel, x?” he asked and the boy whined, mumbling a small ‘perfect’ as he rutted into you, his tears falling onto your exposed skin.

“give her more... cum in her, she wants it. don’t you, honey?” tyler taunted and you sighed, your heartbeat picking up as you nodded desperately.

you were exhausted from cumming a couple times already, and you needed their cum. you craved it.

the room was filled with all kinds of sounds. whimpers from xavier, low grunts from tyler, soft ‘clapping’ sounds from how fast they were fucking you. until xavier couldn’t last no more.

“cummin’” he cried weakly and you could feel him get more and more desperate as the seconds were passing.

“go ahead, baby. let us feel you” tyler encouraged him, and although he was not a very vocal person in bed, sound-wise, he let out a loud cry and gripped your hips as they both stilled inside of you at the same time.

it was nothing like you’d ever felt before. tyler could feel xavier’s cock throb as he came inside of you, and you could feel it too, but twice.

♥︎

“took me to fucking heaven” tyler exhaled deeply and dropped on the bed as well, causing you to giggle softly.

“think someone isn’t back yet” you pointed to xavier who was laying on his tummy, his forehead sweaty as he faced you two.

he smiled. you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he most definitely did. “you are just that good, huh? let me feed into your egos a little more.”

─

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin smut #tyler galpin x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday smut

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lonelym00n · 11 months

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You stole my heart (but you're too young)

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Sam thinks you deserve better than her, you couldn't disagree more.

Warnings: Nothing? Age gap but everything is legal (I left it up to interpretation but Sam is like 26 while R is 20ish). Kissing, if that's a warning.

A/N: Based off of this! Marrying my love for music with the scream franchise one fic at a time <3!! This one uses Tyler the Creator's song, Fucking Young/Perfect!

Day that I met you girl, knew that it was something special

With heavy footsteps and a yawn, Sam Carpenter made her way up the endless stairs leading to her apartment. Her boots thudded against each step particularly loudly today, a direct result of the ache in her legs that came with working a shift for not just one of her shitty jobs, but both of them.

At long last, she approached the door that signaled she’d finally made it through her tiring day. Sam momentarily struggled with opening the series of locks on the door- as it turns out, unlocking a door is especially hard when balancing her work bag and two boxes of pizza.

She manages to unlock and open the door eventually, and steps into the comfort of the apartment. Like a hot shower after an extra hard gym session, her overworked mood fades away at the warmth of her home.

Sam calls out a greeting and makes her way over to the table, setting down the pizza. Her bag is tossed onto the nearest chair, and once her hands are empty, she takes a moment to roll out her tense shoulders, groaning softly.

After some long overdue stretching, she shuffles towards the living room to announce the arrival of the pizza and to take a mental note of the apartment’s occupants. She’d heard Tara speaking with someone when she’d walked in, but had a greater need to first set her belongings down, and then engage in her daily check-in of how her sister’s day had gone.

“Tara,” Sam calls out before rounding the corner that leads to the living room, “The pizza’s here.”

Tara’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers, two different notebooks, and a few pencils. Her laptop is propped up in front of her. To her sister’s right sits a girl Sam has never seen before and she pauses slightly at the sight.

Tara huffs at her notebook and lets the pen she’d been holding fall out of her grasp. She looks up at Sam.

“Thank god,” she whines dramatically, “I needed a break.”

The small girl stands, lightly brushing herself off. Tara turns toward your seated form.

“Come on, pizza time.” The girl’s scarred hand enters your vision, breaking your intense concentration by offering some help in standing up.

You take it gratefully, letting her pull you up.

Sam, who’d been sneaking glances at you throughout the whole interaction, sucks in a breath now that she can fully make out your features. Your eyes twinkle and your preferred style of clothing suits you perfectly. You’re effortlessly beautiful, and Sam is utterly captivated by the allure that you exude.

She’s snapped out of her slight daze at the sound of Tara’s voice.

“Sam, this is Y/N. We have Chemistry Lab together.”

You wave, wiggling your fingers slightly as you do so. A tiny smile is on your lips and she swears you’re batting your eyelashes up at her, either that or her tired mind is playing tricks on her. Probably the latter.

“Hi Sam, it’s great to meet you.”

She hates the way your smooth, sweet-sounding voice almost causes her to let out a shudder. You stretch out a hand and suddenly she’s nervous, hoping her own aren’t too rough like they sometimes could be.

She meets you halfway, ensuring she’s extra gentle about clasping her fingers around yours. The contact has a spark shooting up her spine, and she clenches her jaw to bite back the gasp that almost escaped.

She clears her throat, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

You pull away, and her hand almost feels cold at the lack of warmth. All too suddenly, Tara’s quickly pulling you towards the waiting pizza.

Sam stays rooted to her spot, rapidly trying to process the sudden pounding in her chest. The light laughter trailing from the dining table knocks her out of her stupor. She blinks and retreats to her bedroom to take a much needed shower, hoping it’ll not only help lull her into a more relaxed state, but clear her mind too.

She sets the water to the hottest temperature and strips out of her soiled clothes. A small hum slips out of her chest when the scalding water makes contact with her body. She stays in the shower longer than necessary, and throws on a tanktop and shorts when she exits.

The apartment is quiet when she resurfaces from her room. The digital clock on the oven reads 11:27 PM, and she ignores the small pang in her chest that rises up at the realization that you’ve likely returned to your own home by this time.

Sam heads over to the dinner table where the pizza boxes (thankfully) still sit, grateful that Tara only had one friend over tonight because it meant there was still plenty of food leftover for her to eat. As much as she loved Mindy and Chad, they had a habit of eating first and being considerate second. It’d left Sam to have to scrounge up a meal for herself on several different occasions, but she cared more that everyone was eating and getting fed, so she never complained. Besides, she’d always put the twins and Tara before herself, the older girl felt the strong need to protect them because of the hell that they’d gone through together back in Woodsboro.

Tara pads into the kitchen while Sam’s polishing off her second slice of pizza.

“How was work?”

Sam swallows the last piece of crust, then answers. “Long, boring.”

The younger girl nods. “Thanks again for getting the pizza. By the way, sorry I didn’t tell you about Y/N coming over, it was kind of a last minute thing. She offered to help me with the pre-lab.”

Sam shrugs, “No big deal.” Then, cautiously, “She seems nice.”

A small smile pulls at Tara’s lips, “She is, super smart and funny too. You should see her and Mindy together, they’re hilarious.”

Sam unknowingly files the new found information away. She hums, “I bet.”

“Actually, I invited her to game night tomorrow. Are you gonna be home in time?”

Every Friday night the sisters hosted some kind of get together, whether it be a movie night, craft night, or their most recent obsession, a game night.

Sam mentally runs through her schedule, luckily enough she didn’t have a shift at the bar, so she’d be home by six.

“I get off at 5:30, so yeah.”

Tara smiles, “Good, you could use some fun.”

Sam rolls her eyes and lightly punches Tara’s shoulder, “I have fun!”

The shorter girl laughs, “Keep telling yourself that.”

The two girls share a brief hug before Tara heads to bed.

Sam tucks the leftover pizza into the fridge, double checks the locks on the door, and goes to her room. She climbs into bed and burrows into her pillows. She drifts away with the quiet excitement of getting to see you again tomorrow.

We met through mutual friends and this is where the story and confusion began // ‘Cause I was at Nirvana but I had to pretend that I wasn’t

Tara was right, you and Mindy were hilarious together, Sam can’t stop herself from chuckling at your shared antics.

“Uno,” you smirked.

Mindy slammed her hands down on the table, narrowing her eyes, “There’s no way! You have to be cheating!”

You lean towards Mindy, whispering teasingly, “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m just that good.”

Mindy grumbles. “Someone hit her with a plus four, for the love of God.”

You laugh heartily.

Tara plays, then Chad, Anika, Ethan, and Quinn take their turns.

“None of you had anything?” Mindy asks incredulously.

She has a skip, but with Sam sitting between the two of you, it wouldn’t be useful to play it. She groans and throws down a yellow two.

“Do something Sam, she can’t win again.”

Sam laughs and scans through her cards. She has a pretty good hand, and surprisingly a few different cards that could stop you from winning. The card she chooses to play, however, is a simple five.

What? It’s not like she wanted you to win or anything, she just liked seeing Mindy lose.

Dramatically, you slam your hand down on the top of the pile, ridding yourself of your last card and giggling gleefully as you go.

“You had a wild card as your last card?!”

You smile so brightly at Mindy that Sam’s sure the other girl might go blind.

“Read it and weep, Meeks!”

“I hate you!”

There’s some brief discussion on which game should be played next, and everyone agrees when Quinn suggests Pictionary.

“Let’s do it in pairs,” Chad chimes in, throwing his arm around Tara.

“I get to pick first, since I won!” You gloat.

You scan the members of the table, searching for whoever would be best to assist you in scoring another win. When your eyes land on Sam, you know exactly who to pick to secure your victory. Plus, you might’ve been harboring a secret crush on the girl, so it’d double as a good bit of bonding.

“Wanna join me, Sam?”

She gulps, but nods rather furiously. Her words come out so quick, she nearly stumbles over them altogether. “Yeah, yeah count me in.”

You grin at her and her heart flutters.

Tara and Chad pair up, and Mindy chooses Quinn, which Anika snorts at. She and Ethan happily team up, even though the choice was out of their hands.

The game goes exactly as you thought it would, with you and Sam in the lead by two points.

“Suck it Mindy, another point for us!”

Mindy fights back a scream of frustration, “You’re only winning because of Sam!”

You shoot her a cheeky grin, “Yup I know! I’m not afraid to admit that she’s carrying our team, it still means I’m winning!”

You place a hand on Sam’s bicep, patting it softly as if you’re thanking it for its drawing skills.

Okay, so maybe you’d been dying to feel the hard muscle, watching it flex as she sketched out each prompt, but that was for you to know and you alone.

“Sammy’s unstoppable, so glad that I have such an amazing partner.”

Everyone laughs, with the exception of Mindy who glares. Sam is eternally grateful for her tan skin, because it hides the blush that erupts on her cheeks at both the nickname and the compliment.

You and Sam win. You cheer and hop out of your seat, dragging Sam up with you. You dance around while she grins, just watching you. Suddenly, you’re leaning up to throw your arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a victory hug. When Sam’s hands land on your waist to return the embrace, it’s as if time slows. She’s completely engulfed in the scent of your flowery perfume and it makes her head spin deliciously. You’re so warm against her, and she can’t ignore how the two of you fit together so perfectly. It feels right to have you in her arms, and the thought scares her slightly.

When you pull away, she swears that her heart goes with you.

You flop back into your seat to gloat at Mindy a second time. Sam sits gingerly. She feels anxious, like one of her friends might be able to see how the rhythm of her heart shifted during the hug to match the pace of yours.

She wasn’t used to this feeling. When she was with Richie, he never made her feel things so intensely. And god, this was all because of a hug? A hug with one of Tara’s friends, no less.

Sam sank further back into her chair, realizing how utterly fucked she was.

Now me and she held hands and we danced, nothing more // She kissed my hand a couple times, FaceTime when we’re bored

You were a frequent visitor to the Carpenter’s apartment after the game night. You’d find any excuse to come over, whether it be helping Tara with chemistry or gossiping over a cheap bottle of wine with Quinn.

Tonight was one of those nights, where you and Quinn were sipping wine in between exchanging stories. Both you and the redheaded girl were sophomores whereas everyone else in the group were still freshmen. It helped having someone to recount the horrors of the frat-obsessed days with, and Quinn was nice enough to drop by the corner store to supply the wine, so it was always a welcome occasion to spend some time with the other girl.

Normally it was just the two of you, since Tara was usually off with one of the twins or Anika and Sam was almost always preoccupied by work.

Today though, was one of those rare dares where the older girl ended her work day early. She’d already finished a shift and gone to therapy, so with nothing else to do, she headed home.

Upon noticing that you were in the apartment, Sam tried her best to keep her distance. Her plan was to hide inside the walls of her bedroom and drown out the lovely sound of your laughter with some TV, but it was quickly spoiled by Quinn.

“Sam, you’re here! Come sit with us.”

She smiled nervously and made her way over to the couch. Quinn was of course already taking up the lone chair, so she was left to join you on the loveseat.

Ever the observer, Sam’s dark eyes took in the flush that rested in both yours and Quinn’s face, and the half-empty bottle of wine.

A light slur fills Quinn’s voice, “Y/N was just about to tell me about this girl she met last year.”

Sam’s ears perk up, and she turns to fully face you. Her knee bumps into yours as she shifts to be more comfortable, her skin burning where it had made contact with yours.

You snort out a laugh, “She was kind of cute, I guess. I met her at some bar. She was tall, and like lean, and totally my type and all so I started giving her little signs to buy me a drink or something.”

Sam’s nostrils flare at the talk of your attraction for this girl. Her dark eyes are boring into you, tracing over your entire body while you speak.

“She came up to me and started flirting pretty heavily and then out of nowhere, some guy came up to us and threw his arm around her shoulder. It was weird ‘cuz she just kept flirting with me and then he started flirting too and then all of a sudden they told me they wanted a threesome.”

Quinn laughs hard, leaning over to shove your shoulder. The alcohol has made her limbs heavier, and she pushes you with a lot more force than she likely planned, toppling you over and onto Sam’s lap.

Sam reacts quickly, catching you by the waist to stop you from tumbling off the couch. She internally screams at the feeling of her hands on your bare midriff, the cropped shirt you were wearing leaving part of your lower torso uncovered.

You squeal and break into laughter, uncaring that your limbs are now tangled up with Sam’s legs.

You make no move to readjust yourself, so she doesn’t either. The way your weight is partially leaning up against her is too good, feels too right.

Quinn’s phone rings and she gasps, waving her phone around for you and Sam to see. “It’s Max! I gotta go, he’s the one who actually manages to get me off.”

The girl races up to get ready.

Sam, the protective person that she is, calls out to her.

“Quinn, be careful! Take an uber or something.”

“‘Kay!”

She runs out the door, leaving the amalgamation that is you and Sam behind.

You untangle your arms from her legs and flip over to face her. Her legs open to instinctively make room for you, and you lay yourself in between them, your cheek resting on her tight core.

She’s panicking at not just the position, but your proximity. Though she had spent a considerable amount of time with you due to your recurring presence in her apartment, she’d never stopped being slightly nervous around you. She understood it was because of the feelings that she harbored, but she wished some of her usual confidence could translate over to the time she spent with you too. It was slightly embarrassing to be a clean six years older than you and still fumble around like a schoolboy.

You turn and blink up at her from your spot on her abdomen. She stares down at you in response.

Things are still for a moment, as you look at each other, wondering what the other is thinking.

The liquid courage helps you break the silence.

“You’re really pretty, Sam.”

She’s stunned, because she’s been called hot, even sexy on a few different occasions, but never pretty.

Her heart sits high up in her throat.

“Really?”

You nod, all soft and encouraging, and she has no choice but to believe you because you look so sure.

“You’re strong too, not just physically, but mentally. You’re caring and always look out for everyone.”

She’s not sure what brought on this onslaught of compliments, but it causes so many different emotions to rise up in her chest. She’s lost on what to say, but she doesn’t have to speak because you continue.

“Sam, you're the most selfless person I know. You do so much for other people, it’s crazy!”

She laughs lightly, but it comes out more watery than she’d planned it to be.

Your shiny eyes twinkle up at her, and you shimmy up her body so that you’re now lying on her upper chest, near her shoulder.

She could lean her head down and brush her lips against yours so, so easily. But she doesn’t.

No matter how much she wants to, she holds herself back.

And god does she want to, more than anything, because you’re looking at her with a gentleness she’s never seen before. With your eyes on her, she doesn’t feel like the schizophrenic daughter of a serial killer who’s rumored to have covered up a series of murders. She doesn’t feel broken, or like the mistake that tore her family apart. You’re looking at her like she’s whole and like she’s worth something good.

She knows that if she kisses you, she’ll probably never be able to stop, because you’re everything that someone like Sam Carpenter needs.

Loyal, loving, uplifting.

But she’s scared, because every good thing she’s ever had, she’s broken. She couldn’t risk bringing that upon you, because it’s you and you don’t belong on the long list of people who have gotten hurt because of her.

You’re too good, too perfect, too fucking young.

Her heart hurts. As much as she needs you, she won’t let herself have you.

As if you’re able to hear her internal battle, you continue your previous thought, “You do so much for other people, but never anything for yourself. I wish you’d do more for yourself.”

A tear slides down her cheek, but in your tipsy state, you remain blissfully unaware. Instead, you’re playing with the ends of her hair and twirling it around your fingers. You don’t even know it, but your touch comforts the vulnerable girl immensely.

You sigh heavily, press a quick kiss to her clothed shoulder, and push yourself off of her. You stand and move to gather your stuff, clearly getting ready to leave.

“You’re leaving?” She asks, despite it being obvious that you are planning to.

Wobbling slightly, you slip your jacket over your shoulders. “Mhm, it’s late.”

She sits up and moves to stand by the door, grabbing her trusty bomber jacket.

You tilt your head confusedly, “What are you doing?’

Sam looks at you like it’s obvious, “I’m gonna walk you home. It’s dark, you shouldn’t go alone.”

A series of giggles bubble out of your mouth, “No, you stay here Sam. Besides, if you walk me home, I’ll have to walk you home so you aren’t alone in the dark.”

She smiles despite the stupidity of it all. Then, a thought crosses her mind. She probably shouldn’t, she knows, but she can’t help herself from offering it up as an option.

“How about you spend the night here?”

Your eyes are wide, doe-like, and you pause to consider the offer. “Hmm, okay. That’s the most fair thing to do.”

Sam’s pleased with herself, glad to have found a happy medium where neither of you would have to worry about the other’s safety.

“Take my bed for the night, I’ll do the couch.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no.”

You walk over to her, grab her hand, and tug her towards her bedroom. She doesn’t protest.

Once inside her bedroom, you nudge her so that she’s standing in front of her bed.

“You sleep here, I’ll take the couch.”

She goes to argue, but you shush her.

You lift your still-joined hands and press a kiss to the top of hers.

“Goodnight, Sammy.”

You release your hold on her and shuffle out of the room.

The next morning, she smiled at your sleeping form as she passed the couch on her way to work.

Things shifted in your relationship after that night. Sam still told herself you two were just friends, despite the way you both acted like more.

You started coming over to the apartment just to see her whenever she was free. The two of you would cook together, flirty comments thrown in here and there as the food was prepared. Other times you would watch a movie on the loveseat, sat so close together that your thighs touched.

When you were too busy to travel through the chaotic NYC transportation systems to visit Sam, you’d FaceTime her. Though you claimed to be bored, you both knew the real reason for the calls.

Her feelings for you grew, and yours did too.

Though you had a sneaking suspicion that she returned your feelings, you didn’t want to pressure the older girl. She’d gone through far too much, and so you’d be patient and wait for her to come around to the idea of something more.

And when temptation calls, I never pick up

Sam’s urge to kiss you popped up a few more times.

You were always so thoughtful, she couldn’t help it.

On days when you knew she’d worked a late shift the night before, you’d appear at the door with her favorite coffee and a muffin the following morning.

You texted her nightly, reminding her to eat if she hadn’t already.

You’d go to parties with Tara, not because you wanted to, but to keep an eye on her for Sam’s sake.

You memorized her therapy schedule and made sure to send a heart or some sweet little message right when the session ended.

Safe to say, Sam had fallen for you despite her desperate attempts not to.

Though she was tempted to say something to you, she always made sure to hold herself back.

She was deeply traumatized and had the scars to prove it, you deserved better than someone like her, someone your age who was actively building a future for themselves instead of working two dead end jobs and struggling to afford the city’s high cost of living.

More than that, she had her younger sister to consider. She didn’t know how she could possibly tell Tara, wasn’t sure if the shorter girl would find it weird for her to be dating someone practically the same age as her.

You were just too young and it would never work out between you two because of it.

You bring me joy, joy, joy, joy and you fill a void that was once missing

Sam had been avoiding you for a while, and you were upset. You’d grown used to spending all of your time with the older girl and quite honestly, you missed her.

So you did what any person would do and showed up on her doorstep. You were slightly nervous, Sam usually sent you her weekly schedule so you knew when she’d be working but she hadn’t this week.

You aren’t sure if you’ve done something wrong or if something has happened, but you’re sure that you’re about to find out.

Sadly, you aren't, because it’s Quinn that opens the door.

“Oh hi, sorry I’m just looking for Sam?”

Quinn gives you a small smile, waving you in. “She’s not here, I think she’s working late at the bar tonight. You can come in and wait though.”

“Okay.” You enter the apartment and chat idly with Quinn for a bit. She shares a few stories of her recent hookups before she has to leave to attend her evening class.

You’re alone in the Carpenter’s apartment, so you decide to make yourself useful and prepare a dinner for them. They almost never had time to do so, practically living off of cheap takeout, and you’re more than happy to try to sneak in a few solid meals for them here and there.

Sam always looked at you so gratefully whenever she came home to a nice dinner, so maybe it’d get you back into her good graces. If it didn’t, at least you’d know she got some sort of nutrition in her diet.

Lucky for you, someone has gone shopping recently, so you get to work on making a spaghetti dish with a salad to go with it.

Along the way, you lose track of what you’re doing. When you’re finally finished with cooking, you realize that you’ve unconsciously set the table and dimmed the lights to create a more calming atmosphere.

Whoops?

The apartment door opens, and in walks a very tired looking Sam. Her shoulders are hunched over, and she kicks her boots off, uncaring of where they land.

You make a small noise and she halts, snapping her head up and gasping at the sight of you and the display of food on the dining table.

“Hey Sam, sorry, Quinn let me in and I kind of got carried away but I can go if you wan-”

Her firm body slams into yours, and she wraps you up into a tight hug.

You sigh and melt into the contact, tucking your head underneath her chin. A pleased sound rumbles through her chest and she pulls you impossibly closer.

When she pulls away, she tilts your chin up gently so that you’re looking into her eyes. The deep brown color is swirling with emotion and you’re struck by the beauty of them.

“Thank you,” she says softly, “This week has been so shitty and you just made everything better.”

Your eyebrows knit together, concernedly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Here, go sit.”

She obeys, and sits in her usual spot. You fix her a plate, making sure to grab an extra bowl so she can serve herself some salad.

You place it in front of her and move to sit across from her.

Sam eats while you make little jokes and teasing comments, and she’s sure that this is the way things are meant to be. All her troubles are pushed out of her mind. Her father’s voice is silent. The people that hate her are so momentarily insignificant she forgets they even existed in the first place.

You make her so happy, and with you, the person she was before she was attacked, before the drugs, before her father walked out on her, that person feels safe enough to come out. The piece of her that was missing returns, and it’s all because of you.

You’re washing her dishes, and carefully listening to her talk about her horrible week, and Sam finally feels herself snap.

When you’re drying your hands on the small towel that hangs beneath the sink, she’s grabbing you by the shoulders and twisting you around to face her.

“Wha-”

Her lips are on yours, no hesitation, no going back. You’re too stunned to return the kiss for a moment, but god when you finally do? It’s perfect, too perfect. Your soft lips against her slightly chapped ones drive her wild, along with the soft little gasps and groans you’re releasing. It’s everything, but she’s waited so damn long for this that it’s still somehow not enough.

Her hips are pinning yours to the sink, her hands clutching both sides of your face. It’s then that she growls lowly, bites your lip, and slips her tongue into your mouth when you moan in pleasurable pain.

Sam’s kisses are incessant, furious and intense, just like her. You want to get lost in them forever, would gladly do so.

But then, all too soon, she’s pulling back and touching her lips as if her mind has finally caught up to her actions.

You should find someone else // I’m not the one for you, shit, I’m still growing up by myself

“Wait, wait, we can’t.”

You’re still dazed, not quite sure what she means. “Huh?”

“I can’t do this, I-” She runs her hands down her face, clearly in distress.

“Sam, it’s okay, calm down.”

She shakes her head, “No, I can’t.” She continues, “I’m sorry, but this will never work. You deserve better than me.”

She’s sighing, raking a hand through her long hair, “I’m older than you, I’m fucked up. I’m not what you deserve. I don’t have anything figured out. You’re young, you should find someone else, someone your age who’ll be grown up by the time they’re my age.”

You’re frowning at her. “Sam, none of that is true.”

Boy I know that we could be more than just friends // But you’re scared

She’s scoffing, doubtful.

But you refuse to give up so easily, “Sam, look. It doesn’t matter, okay? I don’t care that you don’t have a stupid college degree or a 9-5 job.”

She looks at you so sadly, “But you should. I’m a mess, and that’s not what you deserve. We’d never work.”

You’re frustrated. “Look, I don’t care about what I deserve! It doesn’t matter to me, not when you exist.”

You step forward, moving into her personal space. You cup her cheek, thankful that she doesn’t move away from the touch. Your thumb strokes her skin softly while you talk, “We both know that we aren’t just friends. We could be so much more, and it would work, Sam. You’re scared, and I get why, but this is what we both want. Please don’t punish yourself for thinking I deserve more than you. You’re what I want, the only one I want.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and press a chaste kiss against her lips before pulling back.

“I love you, Sam. So much. All you have to do is let me, and I will.”

Sam searches your eyes, and finds only love looking back at her.

She’s been selfless for so long now, maybe it’s time she started thinking about herself and what she deserves, what she wants, what she needs.

She deserves to be happy with you, she wants to, and she needs to.

So for once in her life, she stops being so worried about everyone else, and lets herself have you.

With a sweet, meaningful kiss to your lips, you get your answer.

“I love you too.”

And girl I know that you’re the one for me

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #lonelym00n fic

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cheesec4kee · 1 month

Text

they’re just nostalgia ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧

you’ve always been the light in charles life. but he knows that if he wants to beat his childhood rival, he’ll have to let you go— even if it’s hard for him, he knows he can’t afford any distractions.

[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, brief mentions of alcohol, angst-ish ??, use of y/n once, poorly written

[ a/n ] : first time writing angst, so please don’t judge LMAO. based on the song ‘answer’ by Tyler the creator, and I initially wrote this as a joke but I needed something to post so there’s that. . anw hope u enjoy this !! (reblogs very much appreciated btw !!)

⸺ angst under the cut

he fumbled with the keys in his hands, hastily unlocking the door to the apartment that he shared with you. he closed the door quietly, sucking in a breath as he sees you sat on the couch— reading a book.

he’s greeted with a smile, and it nearly broke him. he loves you— he truly does, but not over his dream. to beat his childhood rival. he simply couldn’t let his efforts go of waste.

“how was practice?” you questioned, a soft smile tugging the corner of your lips, as he watched you close your book and set it down beside you on the couch.

“it was.. it was okay.” he mumbled with hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. he felt bad. you were everything he ever wanted— he felt stupid for even doing this. for choosing his dream over you.

“hey— uh, I think..”

“I think we should break up,” he murmured, his voice a mere octave above a whisper. shifting his weight from one leg to another uncomfortably, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

you were the light and joy in his life, and he knows it. you’re the only thing he looks forward to seeing after a shitty race, or after a bad qualifying. he’d search for you in the crowd, wanting to engulf himself purely in the warmth you provide.

his words hung in the air, the tension of emotions thick.

“why? what went wrong?” you managed to muster out, your voice coming out shakier than you thought it would be.

he stayed silent for a minute, before clearing his throat— his eyes boring into yours. “I found someone else,” he lies, his gaze softening— but you could tell that it had a distant look, like his mind was wandering elsewhere.

his words were like daggers being thrown on your heart, piercing right through it.

as tears welled up in your eyes, a wave of emotions washed over you. confusion, insecurity, and betrayal. you couldn’t help but start to question your worth to him. did you really mean something to him all this time, or was that all just a lie? you knew Charles was popular among the ladies. he was a good looking man, surrounded with women with scarcely credible beauty.

but you were hoping that the bond you two had was special, that it could resist any temptations you, or Charles had towards any other men or women. Charles was a beacon of light in your life, and you were his. you truly did believe that the connection between you two was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

with a heavy heart, you knew you had to face the harsh reality of his confession. you knew you had to muster up the strength within you to let him go.

you couldn’t force someone to love you, after all.

“I swear, I loved you at some point but—”

“..I understand.” you cut him off and wiped your tears, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill out.

“I’ll pack my things.”

for the past few days after the breakup, Charles struggled to get rid of the memories that you left in his apartment. he struggled to get rid of the paintings the two of you made for fun, hell— he struggled to change his lock screen which was you.

he kept making excuses, excuses to not remove that little widget in his phone that was a photo of you— the photo he took secretly.

he could only stare at his lock screen, the guilt washing over him whenever he turned on his phone to see you. he could feel the nostalgia, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

he’s standing on the podium, lifting and glancing at the trophy he earned while reminiscing the memories and moments the two of you shared together, he could imagine how proud you would’ve looked at this very moment. he felt stupid for wishing that you were here even though he was the one who broke things off.

winning doesn’t feel the same without you. he misses the way you’d squeeze him so tight when he won, the heat radiating off of you— he doesn’t feel as happy as he usually would. it felt like that winning simply wasn’t worth it without you there to congratulate him.

he has the urge to message you. to ask you how you’ve been, if you were doing much better without him, but he knew he couldn’t. not after what he did to you.

he walks off the podium, his clothes reeking of champagne as he heads to the garage— before noticing his teammate, a wide smile on his face as he comes to congratulate him.

“you did well out there,” Carlos grins, wrapping a arm around Charles shoulder, squeezing him slightly.

Charles simply smiles, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’— though Carlos knows something was up. it was obvious for everyone that Charles seemed odd, seemed distant.

“you’re not gonna tell y/n about this?” he questions, raising an eyebrow as he pulls his arm away, noticing how stiff Charles was despite managing to win first after a while.

Charles stays quiet for a minute, before responding, “I’d call them, but—” Charles pauses, sucking in a breath and glancing at his teammate, before adverting his gaze elsewhere.

“they’re just nostalgia.”

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perlelune · 10 months

Text

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ix.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The next few weeks trudge along in a dull fog, the efflorescence of spring yielding to the sizzling heat of summer. You cloister yourself in a sedulous bubble, turning your focus to cheerleading and the upcoming midterms.

You miss your friends, each day agonizing as you’re trapped in aching loneliness.

You miss Mindy’s sarcastic jokes, Chad’s warmth, Anika’s laugh.

You miss the lazy afternoons spent in each other’s dorms and horror movie nights. You miss the goofy late night chats about everything and nothing.

You also miss Ethan, his kindness, his patience.

Without him, studying becomes much harder.

Even more than the help he provided, his friendship meant the world to you. He always listened and knew exactly what to say to cheer you up. Unfortunately he’s just as in danger as everyone else in your presence.

Getting close to you is a death sentence.

You’ve learnt that some time after Tyler was attacked.

He succumbed to his injuries the very next night.

The news shook the student body and unleashed a ripple of fear throughout campus.

As for you, it cemented your decision to keep away from everyone you hold dear.

It’s for the best.

Your heart shatters every time Ghostface’s words bounce in your head.

If you had stayed away from Tyler, he’d still be alive. The guilt of knowing that weighs upon you everyday.

It’s no wonder people give you wary looks when you walk across campus. It’s a miracle Alana even let you remain on the team with everything going on.

You know she has every reason to kick you out and, truthfully, you’d understand if she did.

It’s like Jeff said at the hospital. You’re cursed.

It’s Friday night and you’re in your room on your own, your roommate away on a trip with her boyfriend.

You don’t mind it since Vanessa started tossing you the same strange looks as everyone else lately.

It’s created a weird atmosphere in your dorm.

You’ve even caught her trying to fill a form to switch roommates, citing medical reasons. She was expeditiously denied as the year’s far too advanced and has been in a mood since.

A break is more than welcome.

Sitting on your bed with your knee against your chest, you carefully apply the second coat of your favorite pink nail polish. You smile at your handiwork once it’s dry, happiness fluttering through you at how pretty your toes look.

As you remove your toe separator and wiggle them, wondering if you should add a layer of glitter or not, your phone buzzes.

Terror clutches your insides.

A surprised exhale leaves your lips and you even kick the bottle of nail polish across the fuzzy rug below your bed, staining the pale blue wool with bright dots of pink.

Heart pounding a heavy staccato in your chest, you gingerly pick up your phone from beside your pillow.

You suck in a deep breath, then another one.

Ever since that night, you’ve been on edge every time your phone buzzes.

Needless to say the last few weeks have taken a tremendous toll on your sanity.

Finally, you gather the courage to check the text you just received.

At the sight of the familiar name, a mix of relief and melancholy floods your insides.

(Anika K:

Hey, just checking on you and wishing you a happy Friday. Hope you’re okay and, if not, that things will look up very soon.

I know you said you wanted space so I’m not gonna push, but I just wanted to let you know that I miss you so so much and things aren’t as fun when you’re not around.

I don’t know everything but I want you to know that I love and support you no matter what.

Here’s a bear for you cause I know how much you love them! 💖💖💖

Your bestie, Nikki)

A dancing bear shooting little hearts follows her message.

Tears swim in your eyes as you grow overwhelmed. They drip onto the screen, water smudging Anika’s words. You wipe your eyes and sniffle, grabbing the box of tissues on your night table.

It’s not the first time your friends have tried to reach out.

Nearly everyday you get a message from Mindy, Chad, Anika and even Tara and Quinn sometimes, despite not being as close to them.

They’re trying to get you to come out and act normal again. Except you can’t.

No matter how much you crave it, normalcy is beyond your grasp. As soon as you’ll let your guard down, he’ll come back to torture you. Who knows who he’ll pick next just to teach you a lesson.

You can’t bear it. You can’t be the reason people are getting hurt.

So you close the conversation with Anika as tears stream down your face, once again leaving her on read.

Your heart sinks to your feet.

You grab your teddy bear and hug it tightly, shuddering sobs wracking your frame.

The pit of hollowness inside you expands.

You’ve never been so isolated before. It makes you wish you appreciated everything you used to have more.

A gentle knock on the door lures you away from your wistful musings.

You gasp as your head jerks up.

You quickly wipe your eyes, lamenting their puffy redness as you get a glimpse of your despondent reflection in your vanity mirror.

You let go of your bear, propping him against the headboard.

Plastering on a smile, you plod to your dorm’s entrance.

Your jaw hangs slack at the sight of the head of brown curls and lopsided, bashful smile you know too well.

“Hey,” he greets, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

“E-Ethan? You shouldn’t be here.”

You attempt to shut the door but Ethan wedges his foot against the door jamb to keep it open. He slinks inside and closes the door behind him.

Your eyes grow wider.

He drops his backpack on the floor and leans against the door, tilting his head sideways while running his eyes over you.

“You missed all our tutoring sessions,” he notes.

A feeble apology stumbles out of your lips. “I’m sorry.”

He hums in acknowledgement before adding, “You don’t answer when I text or call.”

You heave out a long sigh.

“You should go.”

You try to shove him out but he doesn’t budge.

“No way,” he says firmly.

Your fingers outstretch toward the handle but Ethan’s faster, snapping the lock into place and placing himself in front of the door so you can’t escape.

You gawk at him.

“Ethan…What are you doing?”

Towering over you, he takes a slow step in your direction.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His hand sneaks under your chin when you lower your head.

“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” he mutters, angling your chin upward so his gaze dives into yours. His chestnut orbs soften as they drink you in. “Come on. I’m always here for you, you know that.”

The longer you peer at him, the more the fences you erected around yourself crumble, until nothing is left but ruins.

More tears swell in your eyes.

“Everyone who gets close to me dies, Ethan,” you shakily confess.

Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a tight warm hug.

“Shh, that’s just not true,” he whispers tenderly, cradling the back of your head as you weep against his chest.

“Yes, it’s true. It’s like everyone’s saying. I’m cursed.”

He collects your trembling fingers from your lap and twines them with his.

Your tears soak his shirt but Ethan doesn’t seem to mind. He grabs your hand and guides you back to your bed as you thoughtlessly trail behind him.

He sits you at the edge of your bed and hunkers down in front of you. Even like this, Ethan’s so tall that you’re still at eye level with him.

“You’re not cursed," he affirms softly.

Water drips down where your hands are joined with his.

“Yes, I am," you quaver.

"But I am."

"No," he fervently retaliates, lifting one hand to swipe your tears with his thumb while the other one roams over your thigh. "It just wasn’t meant to be. These guys weren’t right for you…" You stare at him, numb with shock. Dumbfounded, you don’t move as he cups your cheeks and bends over you.

A confident smile unfurls on his mouth.

Warm lips suddenly collide with yours. You find yourself on your back, confined between Ethan’s large frame and the mattress as he kisses you senseless.

You whimper and his kiss turns hungrier, his hand roughly gripping under your thigh in a way that’ll surely bruise the next day. He hums, exploring your mouth and sweeping over your curves.

As an unmistakable pressure jutting from between Ethan’s legs presses into your belly, alarm bells ring inside your head.

You bang against his chest to get him to stop.

"Ethan! What are you-"

He finally allows you to breathe but doesn’t free you, keeping you caged beneath him by putting his hands on each side of you.

He licks his swollen lips and caresses the side of your face before admitting breathlessly, "I love you."

Your mouth falls open in sheer disbelief. You toss him a contrite look as he scrutinizes you.

"I…I’m sorry but I don’t feel this way about you, Ethan."

He chuckles, a hopeful smile blooming on his features.

"Maybe not now but…"

"No, I don’t think I ever will,” you cut him off, your voice dwindling. “I only see you as a friend. One of my best friends.” You raise your hand to graze his jaw and he flinches at your touch, his brows squeezing together. “I care about you so much…but not like that. I’m sorry."

Something shifts in Ethan’s eyes, the light in them dimming.

"I see."

The coldness of his deep timbre sends a wave of ice through your veins.

He scoffs meanly, a manic glint waltzing in his brown gaze, "So you’d throw yourself at any random guy but not me?” He corrals your jaw in a bruising grip. You whimper, fingers latching to his wrist to pull him away but he’s much too strong.

A devilish grin curves his lips as he leers down at you. “What are you, some kind of slut?” He leans over you so his lips ghost over your earshell. You quake as he mumbles chilling words into your ear. “Maybe since you’re a slut, I should treat you like one.”

You unleash an audible breath, your lip wobbling.

Suddenly, there’s no more air, no more space. Only Ethan’s large frame pinning you to the bed as his hands wander over you, feeling everywhere at once.

Struggling is for naught, his ardent mouth tracing the column of your neck.

He nips at your skin and you sob.

"No, Ethan, please. This isn’t you,” you plead, fat tears rolling down your face.

His hand creeps inside your shorts and your heart skips a beat. A squeal tears from your throat as he plucks at your folds through your panties.

Ethan muffles your scream by draping his hand over your mouth. You look up at him with fearful eyes, adrenaline rushing through your blood.

Palming your core, Ethan unleashes a devious chuckle.

"Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he whispers, yanking a broken wail from you when he pinches your bundle of nerves.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream #bimbo!reader #scream fanfic

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