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tortillamastersblog · 1 month ago

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Back To You - Part 8 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

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I open my eyes and stop leaning against the bus window to my right when my music stops and my phone starts ringing.

Our team’s physical therapist, Jackson, cracks an eye open next to me before settling back into his seat. We’re about the same age and he and I have been friends since he helped me get back in shape for hockey while recovering from my Ghostface injuries.

I pull out my phone and chuckle softly at the incoming video call from Tara.

“Hey,” I answer with a tired smile. “How’s it going?”

Tara’s face lights up at the sight of me. “Hi! It’s going great! We just finished unboxing everything and Sam is out to grab some lunch. How are you?”

I adjust my headphones a bit so I can lean back against the window. “Good, but tired. We’re just getting back from a game.”

“Did you win?” she asks with a raised eyebrow and when I nod her smile brightens.

It’s been two months since I moved from Woodsboro to Boston and since then a lot has changed.

Sam moved into my old apartment when Christina Carpenter kicked her out which led to Tara cutting ties with her mother as well, and now they’re both living there with me being their landlord since I own the place.

I didn’t ask for any rent at first when Sam started living there because she had trouble finding a job, but now she works at a local gym an old friend of my dad’s owns, and she insists on paying some rent.

Other than that the two of them keep me updated on each other’s wellbeing and Sam has really proven that she wants to make things up to me by constantly checking in on me. She also helped me move my classes online and even went so far as to take care of putting flowers on my parents grave on the anniversary of their death a month ago.

We have yet to talk about our feelings for each other —more like my feelings for her— but it just seems wrong to do it over the phone.

Good thing I’m visiting them over Christmas in two months. I’m super nervous about getting everything out in the open, but we have to talk.

I can’t not know how she feels anymore. Either she straight up tells me she doesn’t feel the same way which would hurt but give me closure, or she’ll tell me she likes me back which would be. . . good? I guess? Just because she likes me back doesn’t mean she wants to get into another relationship right away, right? I mean, do I even want to get into a relationship right away?

God, I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Do you want a tour of the apartment?” Tara asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Sure.” I chuckle. I doubt a lot has changed since I didn’t take any of my furniture with me, but I’m sure Tara has taken it upon herself to decorate the place to her liking and I kind of want to know how she’s turned the former guest room into her own room.

She switches the camera on her phone and starts showing me everything, pointing out little details here and there as she moves through the rooms.

Jackson, at one point, waves his hand to get my attention and mouths Girlfriend? while gesturing at my phone and I shake my head.

I mute myself for a moment and turn my phone so Tara can’t see me if she looks at the screen.

“It’s just Tara,” I explain which makes him smile knowingly.

“Ah. . . So the girlfriend’s little sister,” he teases and even though he doesn’t know all too much about Sam and me, he knows the gist of it from Liam and Paige who have met him on more than one occasion while visiting me.

They get along great with Jackson and I love it even though they bond over teasing me. Too bad Liam and Paige are still in Woodsboro. They plan on moving to the east coast some time soon as well though because Liam got a job offer in New York and Paige wants to move in with her long distance girlfriend who lives in Portland.

“Shut up, Sam’s not my girlfriend,” I argue weakly, feeling my cheeks turn red.

Jackson shoves me playfully. “Yet,” he teases and I just shove him back before unmuting myself and focusing back on Tara.

“And finally, my new room,” she says, going on with the tour without realizing that I wasn’t paying attention for a second ago.

“Looks good, Sprout,” I compliment. “I like the fairy lights behind the bed.”

Tara turns the camera again and beams at me. “Thank you. It was Sam’s ideas. She’s going to get some for her room, too.”

“Nice.” I nod in approval and smile sadly. “Man, I miss you guys.”

Them being on the other side of the country and in an entirely different time zone has made it difficult to stay in touch, but we try our best even though talking over the phone is just not the same as seeing each other in person.

Tara’s face softens and she takes a seat on her bed, pouting. “We miss you, too. It’s weird not having you around all the time, but we’ll see each other soon. I already got you your Christmas present.”

That makes me laugh and the homesickness that I was feeling a moment ago fades a little. “Oohh, can’t wait to find out what it is. Speaking of, do you know what I could get Sam? I already have something for you in mind, but I have no idea what to get her.“

Jackson leans over, obnoxiously mimicking kissing someone and I shove him away with a playful glare before looking back at Tara who is too lost in thought to notice my momentary distraction.

“Hmm. I don’t know. There’s this necklace she showed me a while ago that she likes, but I can’t remember where it was from. I can ask her about it though,” she says and I’m quick to nod.

“That would be great, but don’t make it obvious. She can’t suspect anything!” I warn which makes her roll her eyes good-naturedly.

“I won’t, I promise. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

I chuckle. “Good.”

2 months later. . .

I’m finally back in California and as I make my way through the airport’s parking lot to my rental car I can’t help but relish in the warm breeze that rustles some nearby trees.

I’ve come to love Boston and my new friends and teammates, but it’s just so goddamn cold there, especially now right before Christmas.

I was supposed to fly in tomorrow, on the 25th, but I changed my flight two days ago to surprise Sam and Tara, hence why I had to get a rental car instead of the two of them picking me up.

I finally get to the car and shove my bags into the trunk with little effort. I’m so glad I’m no longer injured because if I was, this whole thing would be extremely difficult.

Everything healed nicely, leaving behind nothing but scars, and I can happily live with that. They serve as a reminder that I managed to help Sam and Tara survive Ghostface and that we all made it out alive. The scar on my spine is a different story. I’ve hated it ever since I got it because it reminds me that my parents are dead and that I came close to being paralyzed, both things that I’d rather forget.

I shut the trunk with a satisfying thump, and get into the car, putting on some sunglasses to shield my eyes from the setting sun before pulling out of the parking lot.

The drive to my old apartment is familiar and even though there’s a lot of traffic since it’s Christmas eve, I manage to get home just as the sun goes down, leaving behind a faint orange glow in the sky.

I grab my stuff from the trunk and head into the apartment building, smiling at one of my old neighbors when he recognizes me and opens the door for me.

Okay, this is it.

I smile when I get to the third floor and set my bags down to knock at the familiar door.

I think of how weird it is to knock at my once own door, but that thought quickly vanishes when Tara opens the door ever so slightly, peeking through the gap.

“Oh my God!” She squeaks happily when she realizes it’s me and closes the door again to undo the chain before opening it properly. “Hi!”

“Hey, Sprout. Merry Christmas.” I barely have time to prepare myself for the bone crushing hug she pulls me into, but I’m definitely not complaining. I chuckle and lift her off her feet, spinning around before setting her down again.

“Tara, who’s at the door?” Sam’s voice from inside the apartment makes my stomach fill with butterflies and when she pokes her head around the corner my smile widens.

“Hey.”

Her jaw drops at the sight of me and as soon as I’ve let go of Tara she’s rushed over to hug me as well. Her hug is tame compared to Tara’s, but it’s still comforting and I can’t help but lift her off her feet for a second as well.

“What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to get in until tomorrow. Did something happen?” she asks in disbelief when I pull back and I don’t miss the way her eyes dart all over my face as if checking for injuries.

My smile softens and I squeeze her in my arms one more time before separating from her completely. “Nothing happened, Sammy. I just wanted to surprise you guys.”

“You did,” Tara says, completely oblivious to the way her sister’s cheeks turn red at my use of her old nickname.

It honestly just slipped out, but I can’t say I’m displeased with the reaction it garnered.

“Yeah,” Sam mumbles, smiling shyly. She tucks her hair behind her ears and picks at the black sweater she’s wearing. “Why don’t you come in? We were just about to start dinner.”

I nod and pick up my bags, following the two of them into the apartment.

Not much has changed since I left because most of the furniture is the same, but Tara did do some decorating and there are different pictures on the walls.

There’s also a decorated christmas tree in the corner of the living room that glows in the low light and makes me smile.

I never put one up when I was living here because I always spent Christmas at Liam and Paige’s place anyway.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Sam says nervously which makes me turn to look at her in the kitchen. Tara momentarily vanished into her room which explains Sam’s sudden nervousness. The dining table between us is set beautifully with candles and some more Christmas decorations and until now I hadn’t noticed the soft music coming from a speaker nearby. “Why don’t you- uh— freshen up while Tara and I finish up in the kitchen?”

I get a sense of deja vu since not even four months ago I was saying something similar to her, but I nod without bringing it up, taking note of how awkward things suddenly are between us.

We don’t act like this over the phone, but over the phone we usually don’t see each other unless Tara turns it into a video call, and we usually keep things polite.

This seems more. . . intimate even though nothing’s happening.

“Sure. I’ll be right back. Thanks.” I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, taking one of my bags with me.

I could really use a shower after my long flight, so I quickly strip as soon as I’ve locked the door behind me and get into the shower.

The hot water helps to get rid of the residual cold that somehow still clings to me from Boston, and once I get out of the shower I put on a shirt and a hoodie to make sure it also stays away.

I finish dressing and go to leave the bathroom again, but then my eyes get caught on a small orange pill bottle on the floor next to the sink.

I crouch down and pick it up, realizing it’s Sam’s when I see her name on the lable.

Her antipsychotics.

I take a closer look for a moment before shrugging and placing them on the counter next to the sink where they were probably knocked down from.

It doesn’t freak me out that she has to take them, or that she sees visions of Billy because I know they’re just that— visions, and she herself has said that she’d never hurt Tara or me because of them.

I can tell that they’re tiring though because of how resigned she was when she talked about them the last time, and I make a mental note to ask her how she’s dealing with them now.

“Ah, finally!” Tara exclaims when I make my way back into the living room. She’s sitting at the head of the dining table with a steaming bowl of pasta in front of her and a fork in hand, ready to dig in. Sam is sitting to her right, also with a bowl of pasta in front of her, but unlike Tara, she doesn’t seem to be as eager to start eating.

“I was gone for like five minutes,” I defend myself with a smile which makes Sam smile, too. “And you could have started without me, you know that.”

Tara immediately shoves a forkful of pasta into her mouth and shakes her head. “Nu-uh” she mumbles, “Sam made me wait for you.”

I laugh softly and join them at the table. “Well, I’m here now.”

Tara just hums in agreement and continues eating while Sam waits for my reaction to the food after I’ve had my first bite before diving in herself.

“This is great.” My eyes widen in surprise at the taste and I immediately eat another forkful before asking, “You guys made this?”

Sam nods but Tara shakes her head again, pointing her thumb at her older sister. “Sam did. I just watched and set the table.”

Damn. Who knew she could cook like that. I mean, her pancakes were great and all, but I didn’t know she could actually cook like this.

My eyes find Sam’s and when I raise my eyebrows expectantly she finally gives in and shrugs timidly, her eyes avoiding mine.

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just some pasta.” She deflects with red cheeks, trying to downplay her skills.

That makes me nudge her foot under the table, prompting her to look at me again. “Maybe. But it’s still delicious.”

I smile and she turns even more red, saying, “Thank you.”

I watch her with fondness as she nervously tucks her hair behind her ear before eating.

“Come on, move. Let me do something,” I complain, trying to get Sam to move away from the sink.

Dinner was delicious and we all helped ourselves to a second serving. Now, Tara is in her room, talking to Chad and Mindy on the phone while Sam and I are in the kitchen doing the dishes.

Well, Sam is doing the dishes. I want to help, but she keeps refusing and telling me to just go relax after my long flight.

“I told you, I’ve got it,” she shoots back, nudging me with her hip, but I’m not having it.

It’s obvious that I can’t persuade her to let me do something, so I’ll just have to manhandle her out of the way.

“Seriously, Y/N, just—Hey!” She squeaks in surprise when I wrap my arms around her from behind and lift her up, carrying her away from the sink before setting her back down.

“You cooked, and Tara set the table, so I’ll do the dishes.” I raise an eyebrow, daring her to object but she finally gives in with a sigh. Her cheeks are once again red and for a moment she doesn’t meet my eye, but when she does, I simply smile at her and get to work on the dishes.

“Do you— I don’t know— Want some coffee or tea?” she asks and even though I don’t want either I nod, understanding her need to do something.

“Tea would be nice,” I say and for the next minute or so a silence settles over us as we both do our thing.

I’m just drying my hands after putting away the last plate when Sam joins my side again with a cup of tea in hand.

“Here you go.” She hands it to me with a small smile and I take it, mumbling a thanks as I raise it to my lips to take a sip.

“So. . .” I lean against the counter. “How are you?”

Sam hugs herself and mirrors my position against the counter. “Okay, I guess. Can’t really complain,” she says, but the way she avoids my eyes with her own tells a different story.

“You sure?” I push slightly, knowing that Tara is still in her room and there’s no chance of her overhearing something Sam potentially doesn’t want her to hear.

Sam shrugs helplessly without really answering, so I set down my tea and step closer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask softly touching her forearm which makes her look up.

I’m surprised to find her eyes filled with tears. “I. . . Can I have a hug?” she asks quietly and before any tears can escape her eyes I pull her into a hug, resting my chin on top of her head.

Sam lets out a shuddering sigh and sinks into the hug, the smell of her perfume making my heart flutter involuntarily.

The hold this girl has on me is incredible. . .

“What’s going on?” I whisper, running my hands up and down her back.

“Everything’s been just a lot lately, you know? The fight with my mom, being back here, the move. . . not to mention the whole Ghostface shit I’m still trying to get over a-and Richie—“ My hands still on her back at the mention of his name, but I stay quiet, letting her air out her thoughts, “— I still can’t believe he was behind everything. I really liked him and he just threw it in my face and I-I feel like it’s my fault Tara and you were almost killed. I mean people did die because of me. Wes, his mom, Dewey. . .”

I raise a hand to the back of Sam’s head and run my fingers through her hair. It used to help calm her down when we were kids, so I’m hoping it’ll do the same now.

“Sam, no one died because of you.” I hug her tighter. “Richie and Amber killed people because of their fucked up dream of making a new Stab movie. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But Billy—“

“Is your father, yes,” I cut her off. “But just because he is doesn’t mean what happened is your fault. It’s Richie’s and Amber’s. They killed all those people, not you. You’re nothing like them and you’re nothing like your father.“

Sam shivers and pulls back a little to look at me. “I might not have killed Wes and the others,” she whispers with tears still in her eyes, “but I did kill Richie and—“ she looks away, ashamed, “—it felt right doing it. It felt. . . good, stabbing him. It felt so fucking good, and I just couldn’t stop a-and that scares me.”

I tilt my head with furrowed eyebrows and cup her face with my hands, her brown eyes doubtful, yet hopeful that I’ll be able to assuage her guilt somehow. “I get it. You think that makes you a monster, but I‘d been surprised if you didn’t feel that way. Richie took so much from you. He betrayed you and hurt you in more ways than one, and he hurt Tara and me. . . He was about to kill all of us, but you stopped him. Yes, you killed him, but there was no other way. He would’ve just kept coming for us if you didn’t, so of course it felt good to kill him— to know that he’d never be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

A single tear rolls down Sam’s cheek and I’m quick to wipe it away before she hugs me again, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

She’s breathing shakily and I once again run my fingers through her hair, resting my cheek against her temple.

“Thank you,” she mumbles. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

I smile sadly and hold her tighter. “You’re welcome.”

If I could have killed Richie for her I would have done it in a heartbeat, but I didn’t and now she has to live with it. She killed him to save herself and to save the rest of us and I hate that she feels guilty for doing it.

We keep hugging for a couple of moments, silently holding each other until she chuckles quietly against the side of my neck.

“I think my therapist would hate you.”

I pull back and smile at her, glad to see that she’s no longer crying. “How come?”

“Because she’s been saying the exact same thing every since I started seeing her, but I didn’t believe it until you just said it,” she admits with a sheepish grin that makes me laugh.

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, shouldn’t she love me then?”

Sam just shrugs and rests her hands on my chest, playing with the strings of my hoodie right as Tara comes walking into the kitchen.

“You guys wanna watch a movie or something? Chad and Mindy say hi, by the way,” she says without commenting on the position she finds us in.

Sam is quick to take a step back though, rubbing the back of her neck and turning to make herself a cup of tea as well.

“Yeah, movie sounds good,” I say, unbothered, picking up my own tea.

Sam simply hums in agreement without turning around, which makes Tara smile and skip to the living room.

I stir, feeling myself wake up at the sensation of something being draped over me.

It’s dark, I notice when my eyes flutter open, and I realize that I must have fallen asleep sometime during the movie.

There’s no sign of Tara, but Sam’s standing over me, adjusting the blanket she draped over me so it covers my feet.

She hasn’t realized I’ve woken up, and I don’t want her to feel bad about waking me, so when she turns back to face me I quickly close my eyes again and pretend I’m still asleep.

There’s some shuffling and it takes everything in me not to flinch when Sam’s fingers brush against my forehead a second later, moving some hair out of my face.

She sighs and I think she might say something since she thinks I’m asleep, but she doesn’t.

She does place a delicate kiss to my forehead though, and it’s so surprising that as soon as I’m sure she’s gone into her room, I open my eyes again, touching my tingling forehead where her lips were a moment ago.

We really need to talk.

_______________________________________________

Happy new year, everyone!

We’ll be diving into the plot of the sixth movie in part 10, so enjoy some fluff for now <3

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23

#x reader #fluff #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #scream

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newtonsheffield · 4 months ago

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Kate Sharma (Trouble) and Anthony (Edmund), Viscount Bridgerton in I fell in love with the fire long ago by Moomin_94 (newtonsheffield)

In some ways Kate had been lucky. In a lot of ways she’d been lucky in truth, even if it didn’t quite feel that way. A lot of people might not see it that way. They might not think it was lucky to have nothing but the middle name of a man who’d had so much sadness in his eyes when you’d sat down beside him in a bar with at least three empty glasses already in front of him. He’d barely looked towards her at first, which she’d been thankful for. There to have a quiet drink alone to celebrate the promotion she’d sunk so much time into that now felt a little hollow. He looked at her when she ordered, his eyes burning into the side of her face and she’d felt her stomach drop as she’d taken him in. A muscle clenched in the corner of his jaw and his hair was falling over his eyes as he stared at her.

“Are you commiserating or celebrating?”

His voice was like rough gravel and she found herself swallowing, “Celebrating. I got… exactly what I wanted, I guess. Got a promotion. I’m a solicitor.”

He nodded, “Congratulations.” He looked over to the bartender, “You can put it on my tab. Someone should be happy tonight.”

“Thank you.” Kate cleared her throat, “That’s nice of you.”

“Not really.” The man chuckled darkly, “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious you’re commiserating.”

His laugh was much brighter than it probably should have been as it echoed through the bar, “I have a good reason to commiserate.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Kate settled in, enjoying the strange dynamic she was striking up. “Come on, what happened.”

He took a sip of his drink, “Today is the anniversary of my father’s death.”

Kate’s heart sank, “I’m so sorry.”

“I told you it was good.”

“That is cause for commiseration.” Kate agreed, “I really am sorry.”

“This promotion pretty big?” He was changing the conversation and she knew it but she let him do it.

“Yeah. Sort of. Just became junior partner.”

“Well, congratulations. I’m very excited for you, random beautiful woman.”

“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”

He frowned for a moment, “Why don’t you call me Edmund?“

“Edmund.” Kate found herself frowning, weighing it on his tongue, “You don’t look like an Edmund, it doesn’t suit you.”

“That’s what everyone says.” He inclined his head, “It’s my middle name. And you are?”

There was something about his gaze flicking over her that made her feel more and more bold as she took a sip of her own drink. “What do I look like.”

His teeth bit into his lip for a moment and his voice was even deeper, “Fucking trouble in that skirt.”

“Trouble it is then.”

They’d agreed in the morning, as they’d eaten breakfast awkwardly in the restaurant of the Savoy Hotel that neither of them were in the position for this to be anything. So she’d left with just his middle name and nothing else to go on with no idea that a month later she’d be staring at a positive pregnancy test with no way to contact the father of her child. Maybe that wasn’t lucky. Maybe it wasn’t lucky that she’d had nothing to give her son of his father but that name. Edmund, Neddy. But she felt lucky to have Neddy. Nearly three years old now and so beautiful it made her heart clench to look at him. she was lucky to have him. In some ways lucky that there was no traumatic break up to have dragged them all through even if Neddy was already asking questions about his Dad.

The very last place she expected to find Neddy’s father was sat on her mother’s couch with Neddy on her lap half paying attention to a viscount trying to build a new library in his constituency.

“Well, you see Rachel-”

Kate froze at the sound of his voice, her mouth falling open as her eyes fell on the man that had occupied so many of her thoughts the last three years.

Anthony, The television said. Viscount Bridgerton.

“Holy Fuck.”

“Bad word!” Neddy said as Edwina and Mary both stared at her.

“What?”

Kate swallowed, the words choking in her throat. “That’s N-E-D-D-Y’s D-A-D.”

This is probably the most unlucky she’s ever felt, walking into the office of her former one night stand turned unsuspecting father of her child armed with nothing but her diligent google search from the night before. He had a right to know. Kate told herself again. Even if he didn’t want anything to do with them, she wasn’t looking for anything from him anyway. He should know that he has a child.

“Can I help you?”

Kate tried to smile at the receptionist. “Hello, yes. I was wondering if I could… speak to the Viscount? Please?”

The woman’s eyes flicked over her. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I… I don’t but it’s… very important.”

The woman frowned, “Are you a friend of his? Does he know you?”

Kate swallowed, “I… He might not remember-”

A door opened down the corridor and footsteps made their way towards them. He looked almost the same, other than his suit being much neater and his hair not a mess. He was just as handsome as when he’d hugged her before she’d left the restaurant and his eyes lit up as his smile grew into a slow, lazy thing.

“Hello, trouble.”

Kate’s laugh was a choked little thing. “You have no idea”

Now on Ao3

#surprise Neddy au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #kathony fic #bridgerton fic

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