#robert kennedy x reader

[melancholicstation]

pov: you're a break-out film star in the 70s and meet bobby at a palm springs soirée

[k3nnedycamel0t]

hiii! i've gotten a lot more interaction on my last two posts than i thought i would, so first of all, thank you so much! it's really daunting to post something that you're new at and just experimenting with :)

on another note, i just wanna say i'm completely open to suggestions for edits. currently i'm hyper fixated on the kennedy family (clearly LOL) but i'm into a lot of other fandoms as well. don't be afraid to ask!

along with that, i also write fanfic! feel free to send in requests, i'll write just about anything. i'm open to fluff, angst, and smut ;) anyways, thanks again!

[ddlydevotion]

bobby ‘rfk’ kennedy relationship hcs…

a/n: thank you all soso much for 200 followers it means the absolute world to me! I’ll be posting as much as I can as a little celebration 💌. These headcanons are just little thoughts I’ve had about Bobby + how he’d be in a relationship.

currently listening to: Sweet by Lana Del Rey 🐇☕️₊˚⊹ ᰔ

If you’re the shy type, he’s definitely one to make you look up at him by placing your chin in between his thumb & index finger.

before the two of you started dating and the two of you were just fumbling messes around each other (him especially), he’d try his absolute hardest to flirt with you without stumbling over his words. He’d eventually get the hang of it and would often find himself throwing cute little teasing/flirty remarks your way.

the type to softly pinch the apple of your cheek while chatting you up.

“now, don’t you look beautiful?”

“Well aren’t you just the prettiest thing I’ve seen.”

writes you the most romantic letters that you’ve ever read. it honestly makes you question what he’s doing being an attorney general instead of a poet.

The very first time that the two of you met he insisted that you call him bobby instead of robert. Others saw it as a very small thing, but you knew the only people who called him bobby were his family.

a family he wanted to marry you into.

just imagine him calling you baby or sweetheart in his strong boston accent omfggg somebody restrain me

scolds you when he comes home late from working at the office just to find you sitting at the dinner table. just because he's depriving himself of sleep doesn't mean that you can do the same.

going on walks on the beach with his dog following right beside the two of you.

has an addiction to caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

He is so proud of you in absolutely everything that you do, and he never fails to recognize your accomplishments. He has the sweetest habit of mentioning you in his speeches, and going through insane loopholes to relate the subject of his speech to you.

"and just as my wife said..."

"my wife also agrees on the matter of..."

Constantly fretting over you like a mother hen of some sort.

Doesn't let his parents disrespect or utter a single word of negativity against you. He's seen them do it to his sibling's spouses and he'd be damned if they were to do the same to you.

would never fail to walk you to your door after a beautiful night spent together.

always makes time to call you whenever he’s away from home on business. Despite the immense weight of the world on his shoulders, he never makes you feel neglected.

He has such a witty yet simple sense of humor, you’d never be able to hide your smile or laughter around him.

The type of photos that get released to the press..

“I am your half.”

taglist: @lancerslover @unmarlou @tomriddlethefinest @vixenihy @bobbykennedyswife @strryhaze @divinedelusional and I think that’s it!!

[fanficlolsblog]

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

(i write for mainly gxg sorry. i also take requests so let me know if you want anything written.)

female celebrities!

taylor swift

HEADCANONS! here

drunk (non smut version)

summary: you're drunk and your girlfriend, taylor wants to take you home, which you try to resist.

casual (REWRITING!)

summary:

good luck, babe

summary: Y/N is in a complicated relationship with taylor swift, where she wants more than just fun, but taylor isn't ready to commit. after a tough conversation, Y/N decides to end things, realizing they deserve more than casual affection. though it hurts, Y/N feels a sense of freedom and relief after walking away.

the fan

summary: y/n, a dedicated swiftie, runs a popular social media account showcasing her edits and paintings of taylor swift. after being noticed by taylor nation, she’s invited to the eras tour. throughout the concert, y/n repeatedly catches taylor’s eye, leaving her flustered. backstage, taylor compliments y/n’s art and admits she couldn’t stop looking at her during the show. as y/n leaves, taylor runs after her to ask for her phone number, making the night even more surreal.

we don’t talk anymore

summary: falling in love with taylor swift felt like a whirlwind, but when the pressure of fame and her struggle with coming out grew too much, you broke up. as she tried to move on with travis kelce, you both admitted to missing each other, but her jealousy over your friendship with shawn mendes created tension. despite the distance, you both realized that your love story wasn’t over and that there was still hope for a future together.

all too well

summary:

i miss you, i’m sorry

summary:

loathe you

summary:

dress

summary:

all i want for christmas is you (WRITING!)

summary:

jenna ortega

HEADCANONS! here

the co-star

summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.

the co-star part 2

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

yandere!unhealthy obsession

summary: after a brief encounter with jenna ortega at a meet-and-greet, y/n is surprised to receive a follow request and a message from her. what starts as a seemingly innocent exchange soon spirals into a possessive obsession, with jenna constantly messaging, showing up unannounced, and isolating y/n from friends. as y/n tries to distance themselves, jenna’s behavior grows darker, her obsession tightening like a trap, until y/n realizes that escaping her hold might be impossible.

coachella

summary:

hot n cold (WRITING!)

summary:

flawless

summary:

it’s always been you

summary:

strangers

summary:

watching horror movies

summary:

billie eilish

HEADCANONS! here

guess?

summary:

i could eat that girl for lunch

summary:

wasn’t it obvious?

summary:

boyfriend

summary:

lana del rey

HEADCANONS! here

cinnamon girl

summary:

flirt

summary:

will you still love me?

summary:

kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

summary:

gracie abrams

HEADCANONS! here

i love you, i’m sorry

summary:

us

summary:

sabrina carpenter

HEADCANONS! here

taste

summary: your favourite artist, sabrina carpenter asks you to be in her new music video, ‘taste’, which of course you couldn’t refuse…

it’s not christmas without you

summary:

red wine supernova

summary:

we never go out of style

summary: y/n is caught in a complicated relationship with singer sabrina carpenter, who picks her up for a late-night drive. despite knowing their connection often leads to heartbreak, y/n can’t resist sabrina's allure. they share a passionate encounter, but y/n realizes they're stuck in a cycle of returning to each other. after their intense moment, y/n chooses to leave, aware that they will likely reunite again despite the pain.

i’m not perfect

summary: y/n develops an intense obsession with singer sabrina carpenter, feeling both admiration and jealousy. after meeting her at a performance, y/n’s fixation deepens as sabrina acknowledges their presence, making the attraction even harder to ignore. despite sabrina’s kindness, y/n struggles with the emotional pain of unrequited feelings, caught between admiration and the torment of knowing sabrina is out of reach.

demitra kalogera

HEADCANONS! here

sunday kalogera

HEADCANONS! here

the heart wants what it wants (WRITING!)

summary:

jennifer lawernce

HEADCANONS! here

just good friends

summary:

the interviewer

summary:

coffee?

summary:

emma roberts

HEADCANONS!

the babysitter (WRITING!)

summary: Y/N, a 19-year-old college student, gets a job babysitting actress Emma Roberts’ 4-year-old son, Rhodes. As Y/N cares for him, she starts to feel a growing tension between her and Emma. They share small, intense moments, and Emma admits that Y/N feels “different” to her. Though their conversation is interrupted, the unspoken attraction between them is clear, leaving things unresolved.

never too old

summary:

male celebrities!

timothee chalamet

HEADCANONS! here

no strings attached

summary:

i hate you

summary:

matt sturniolo

HEADCANONS! here

again

summary: you and matt have been so called 'friends' for years even though there is something clearly there. matt is sick of being just friends and decides to do something about it…

teachers pet (REWRITING!)

summary: on the first day of school, Y/N encounters Mr. Sturniolo, a young, charismatic new english teacher who draws her attention with his engaging manner and attractive appearance. during a private discussion after class, his intense concern and personal focus create an underlying tension, leaving Y/N both intrigued and unsettled about their evolving relationship.

sick

summary:

the grudge

summary:

cardigan

summary:

chris sturniolo

HEADCANONS! here

idfc

summary: y/n is stuck in a toxic relationship with chris sturniolo, who often disappears and returns drunk. despite knowing he's not truthful or committed, y/n can’t let go. one night, after he comes back, they share an intimate moment, and she asks him to lie and say he loves her, even though she knows it’s fake. unable to break free from her feelings, y/n accepts the lies for the fleeting comfort they bring.

frat boy

summary:

i trusted you

summary:

invisible string

summary:

characters!

wednesday addams

HEADCANONS! here

just a little bite

summary: Y/N, a vampire, returns to wednesday addams' dorm after a day out, sensing her girlfriend's hidden frustration at being apart. as Y/N teases wednesday about her vampire nature, they share playful intimacy through biting. their connection deepens, revealing Wednesday’s vulnerability and desire, ultimately strengthening their bond in the shadows.

smoking

summary: you and wednesday addams, your stoic roommate, share an unspoken romantic tension. one night, she catches you smoking and warns you about the dangers, impulsively throwing your last cigarette out the window. angry, you confront her, but the confrontation reveals deeper feelings between you two, culminating in a tentative kiss that changes everything.

jealous girl (WRITING!)

summary:

mine

summary:

i despise you

summary:

the perfect girl

summary:

ethan landry

HEADCANONS! here

i did this for you, for us (WRITING!)

summary:

that boy is a monster

summary: y/n becomes dangerously infatuated with ethan landry, who hides a dark, monstrous side behind his charm. despite knowing he’s dangerous, y/n can’t resist the pull of his intense gaze and possessive nature. as ethan slowly consumes y/n’s heart and soul, y/n falls deeper into the twisted relationship, unable to escape the hold he has over them. in the end, y/n willingly lets ethan devour their heart, accepting the monster he truly is.

boyfriend

summary:

nerd

summary:

yknow i’ve always had a thing for you

summary:

kiss me

summary:

you belong to me

summary:

jill roberts

HEADCANONS! here

come here dressed in black

summary: Y/N discovers that her girlfriend, jill roberts, is ghostface. despite the horrifying truth, Y/N feels a strong attraction to jill, especially when she reveals herself in the ghostface costume. caught between fear and desire, Y/N struggles to leave the dangerous relationship, unable to resist jill's dark allure.

i won’t hurt you

summary:

you’re mine

summary:

can’t even

summary:

ghostface

HEADCANONS! here

pretty girl (WRITING!)

summary:

billy loomis

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

stu macher

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

tara carpenter

HEADCANONS!

caught

summary:

let’s ruin the friendship (WRITING!)

summary:

the roommate

summary:

my axe (WRITING!)

summary:

vada cavell

secret

summary:

astrid deetz

just friends

summary: you find yourself caught in a complicated relationship with astrid deetz, who is spending time with another guy named jeremy. as you navigate your feelings of jealousy and confusion, you confront astrid about her intentions, leading to an emotional struggle between love and heartbreak. despite your desire to be together, it becomes clear that the timing may not be right, leaving you to question what you truly mean to each other.

do i wanna know?

summary:

jackie taylor

HEADCANONS!

am i making you feel sick?

summary: y/n alone in the wilderness, applies lipstick to jackie's lifeless body and is visited by jackie's ghost. jackie hints that your true hunger is for her, not just for food. as jackie's spirit fades, y/n is overwhelmed by the realisation of jackie's death and her own deep grief.

katniss everdeen

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

finnick odair

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

tori vega

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

jade west

HEADCANONS!

leaving tonight

summary:

quinn fabray

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

rafe cameron

HEADCANONS!

ruin the friendship

summary:

max mayfield

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

eleven

HEADCANONS!

first kiss (WRITING!)

summary:

tate langdon

nothing yet…

madison montgomery

i insist

summary:

living dead girl

summary:

brooke thompson

nothing yet…

lee (bones and all)

nothing yet…

michael myers

sick love story

summary:

chop, chop, slide

summary:

leon kennedy

nothing yet…

bela dimitrescu

nothing yet…

debra morgan

nothing yet…

dexter morgan

nothing yet…

rick grimes

nothing yet…

daryl dixon

nothing yet…

vanessa afton

nothing yet…

pyramid head

nothing yet…

[withthecolorizedkennedys]

jfk and rfk x reader love triangle maybeee threesome soshsjakhdhfhd

Democracy in Action (Between the Sheets)

synopsis: you thought you were caught in a tug-of-war between jack and bobby—turns out, they’d rather share. what follows is less of a competition and more of a collaboration.

word count: 2.5k

pairing: john f. kennedy x reader, robert f. kennedy x reader, robert f. kennedy x reader x john. f kennedy rating: 18+; includes depictions of threesomes

author's note: i am so sorry if this let you down!!! this is my first time writing something involving a threesome haahsgkdsh

The first time you met Jack Kennedy, you'd been working as a secretary at the State Department. He was a freshman congressman then—charming, irreverent, with a smile that made you forget your own name. The second time you met him, he took you to dinner at Martin's Tavern. By the third meeting, you were in his bed.

Bobby came later. You'd been seeing Jack for nearly six months when his younger brother appeared at a campaign function. Where Jack was all easy charm and practiced seduction, Bobby was intensity wrapped in quiet determination. He watched you from across the room with those piercing eyes, and you felt something shift inside you.

"My brother's quite taken with you," Bobby had said when Jack stepped away to greet supporters. His voice was softer than Jack's, but no less commanding.

"I'm quite taken with him too," you replied, though you couldn't help but notice how Bobby's gaze lingered on your lips.

Three weeks later, after a heated argument with Jack about his latest indiscretion with a blonde socialite, you found yourself at Bobby's apartment, seeking comfort. The comfort turned to conversation, conversation to confessions, and confessions to his mouth on yours, urgent and possessive.

"Jack can't know," Bobby had whispered against your neck. "Not yet."

But secrets had a way of revealing themselves. Jack had suspected something was happening between you and Bobby for months. The way his brother looked at you across dinner tables. The way you sometimes mentioned Bobby's name with a slight flush to your cheeks.

Jack never confronted you directly. Instead, he became more attentive, more passionate—as if determined to remind you why you'd fallen for him first. The brothers' natural competitiveness extended to you, though neither acknowledged it openly.

For six months, you'd been caught between them. Jack, with his wit and charm, his ability to make you laugh even as he drove you mad with his wandering eye. Bobby, with his fierce loyalty and intensity, the way he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

Tonight was supposed to be just you and Jack. He'd invited you to his Georgetown townhouse, promising an intimate dinner. You wore the blue dress he liked, the one that matched your eyes and clung to your curves in a way that made his gaze darken with desire.

When you arrived, Jack greeted you with a kiss that lingered, his hands already finding the small of your back, pulling you against him.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he murmured, his Boston accent thickening as it always did when he wanted you.

The knock at the door came just as Jack was pouring the wine.

"Expecting someone?" you asked, suddenly anxious.

Jack frowned. "No."

When he opened the door, Bobby stood there, a file folder in hand. "Jack, I need to discuss the—" His words died when he saw you sitting on the sofa, wine glass in hand.

The air in the room changed instantly, charged with an electricity that made your skin prickle.

"Bobby," Jack said, his voice neutral but his eyes sharp. "What a surprise."

"I didn't realize you had company." Bobby's gaze moved from you to Jack, then back to you. "I can come back tomorrow."

"Nonsense," Jack said, stepping aside. "Come in. Have a drink with us."

You watched the silent communication between the brothers—a language of glances and subtle shifts in posture that you'd come to recognize but couldn't fully translate.

Bobby hesitated, then entered, setting the folder on a side table. Jack poured him a glass of wine, and the three of you sat in the living room, the conversation strained with unspoken tensions.

Jack sat beside you on the sofa, his hand resting possessively on your knee. Bobby took the armchair across from you, his eyes tracking Jack's hand on your body.

"We were just about to have dinner," Jack said, his thumb tracing small circles on your knee. "You should join us, Bobby."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Bobby replied, though his eyes never left you.

"It's no intrusion," Jack insisted. Then, with a casualness that belied the weight of his words: "After all, we're all… close friends here, aren't we?"

Your breath caught. Did he know? Had he always known?

Bobby's jaw tightened. "Jack—"

"Let's not pretend," Jack interrupted, his hand sliding higher on your thigh. "I know my brother, and I know you." He turned to you, his eyes dark with something between desire and challenge. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

Your heart hammered against your ribs. "What do you mean?"

Jack's smile was dangerous, thrilling. "I mean, why choose?"

Bobby stood abruptly. "This isn't appropriate."

"Since when have Kennedys concerned themselves with what's appropriate?" Jack laughed, but there was an edge to it. He turned to you. "Tell him to stay."

The moment stretched between the three of you, taut with possibility. You looked at Bobby, saw the conflict in his eyes—desire warring with propriety, with brotherly loyalty.

"Stay," you said softly.

Something shifted in Bobby's expression. He sat back down, his posture rigid.

Jack's hand moved higher on your thigh, under the hem of your dress. "I've seen how you look at her, Bobby," he said, his voice low. "And I've seen how she looks at you."

"Jack," Bobby warned.

"No more secrets," Jack continued. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "Tell him what you want."

Your mouth went dry. The wine in your glass trembled slightly with the shaking of your hand. "I want… both of you."

The admission hung in the air, impossible to take back.

Bobby's eyes darkened. Jack's hand tightened on your thigh.

"Come here," Jack said to his brother, his voice commanding in a way that brooked no argument.

Bobby hesitated only a moment before moving to the sofa, sitting on your other side. The heat of the two men pressed against you made your head swim.

Jack's mouth found yours first, hungry and demanding. When he pulled away, he nudged you toward Bobby. "Show him how you kiss me."

Bobby's kiss was different—more restrained at first, then breaking into something desperate and needy. Jack watched, his hand still on your thigh, moving higher.

"Beautiful," Jack murmured, and you weren't sure if he meant you or the sight of you with his brother.

Bobby's hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss. Jack's fingers found the zipper of your dress, slowly drawing it down your back. The cool air hit your skin, making you shiver.

"Stand up," Jack commanded softly.

You did, your legs unsteady. Jack tugged your dress down, letting it pool at your feet. You stood before the Kennedy brothers in nothing but your lingerie and heels, feeling their eyes roam over your body.

"Christ," Bobby whispered.

Jack stood, circling behind you. His hands slid around your waist, up to cup your breasts through the silk of your bra. "Look at her, Bobby. Have you ever seen anything so perfect?"

Bobby remained seated, his eyes dark with desire, his breathing visibly quickened. "Jack, if this is some kind of game—"

"No game," Jack interrupted, his lips on your neck. "Just us. The three of us, being honest for once."

You reached out a hand to Bobby. "Please."

He took it, rising to stand before you. Jack continued to kiss your neck, his hands roaming your body from behind while Bobby stood frozen in front of you.

"Touch her," Jack encouraged his brother.

Bobby's hands were tentative at first, then grew bolder as they skimmed up your sides, over your ribs, to meet Jack's at your breasts. The sensation of four hands on your body, two mouths—Jack's on your neck, Bobby's now on your collarbone—sent heat pooling between your legs.

Jack unhooked your bra, letting it fall away. Bobby's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you. His mouth descended to your breast, tongue circling your nipple while Jack's fingers pinched the other.

"Let's move this to the bedroom," Jack suggested, his voice rough with desire.

The walk to Jack's bedroom was a blur of hands and mouths, of clothing being shed. By the time you reached the bed, Bobby was down to his undershirt and trousers, Jack in just his pants. You were completely naked, skin flushed with arousal.

Jack lay back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. "Come here," he said to Bobby, who still stood at the foot of the bed, watching.

Bobby hesitated only a moment before joining you. You crawled up, straddling Jack’s chest, but he caught your hips and tugged you higher—guiding you until your thighs framed his face. You were facing Bobby now, your knees braced on either side of Jack’s head, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin.

"That’s it, sweetheart," Jack murmured, his hands firm on your hips before dipping lower, pulling you down to meet his mouth.

You gasped, hands clutching at Bobby's shoulders for support. Bobby's mouth found yours, swallowing your moans as Jack's tongue worked against you. Bobby's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples in time with Jack's ministrations.

"She tastes incredible, Bobby," Jack murmured against you. "You should find out for yourself."

Bobby's eyes met yours, seeking permission. You nodded, breathless.

They shifted positions, Jack moving to sit at the head of the bed while Bobby settled between your legs. The first touch of Bobby's tongue made you arch off the bed. Where Jack had been skilled and practiced, Bobby was eager and thorough, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him.

Jack watched, his eyes dark with lust. He guided your head to his lap. "Show Bobby how good you are with that pretty mouth."

You took Jack into your mouth, moaning around him as Bobby's tongue delved deeper inside you. The dual sensations—Bobby between your legs, Jack between your lips—were overwhelming. Jack's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your rhythm.

"That's it," Jack encouraged, his voice strained. "Take me deeper."

You complied, relaxing your throat to take more of him while Bobby's tongue circled your clit, his fingers now sliding inside you. The pressure built rapidly, your body caught between the two men, used and pleasured from both ends.

Your orgasm hit suddenly, making you cry out around Jack's length. Bobby didn't relent, his mouth working you through the waves of pleasure until you were trembling.

Jack pulled you up, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. "I want to watch you ride Bobby," he said against your lips.

Bobby had stripped completely now, sitting back against the headboard. Jack guided you to him, helping you straddle his brother. Bobby's hands gripped your hips as you sank down onto him, both of you groaning at the sensation.

Jack positioned himself behind you, his chest to your back, hands reaching around to cup your breasts as you began to move on Bobby. "That's it," Jack murmured in your ear. "Show him how you move for me."

You rode Bobby slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Jack's hands roamed your body, occasionally reaching down to where you and Bobby were joined, his fingers circling your clit.

"Jack," Bobby groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "I can't—"

"Not yet," Jack commanded. He moved away briefly, returning with something in his hand. You felt the cool touch of lubricant between your cheeks, Jack's finger circling your other entrance.

"Have you ever taken both of us?" Jack asked, his finger pressing gently inside.

You shook your head, breathless at the new sensation.

"Do you want to?" His finger pressed deeper, preparing you.

"Yes," you gasped, the word barely audible.

Jack worked you open carefully, adding a second finger while you continued to move on Bobby. The dual sensations were intense, bordering on overwhelming.

When Jack finally positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock pressing against your prepared entrance, Bobby stilled beneath you. "Are you sure?" Bobby asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, beyond words.

Jack pushed forward slowly, the stretch burning despite his preparation. You gasped, caught between pain and pleasure as both Kennedy brothers filled you completely.

"Breathe," Jack instructed, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.

Gradually, the discomfort faded, replaced by a fullness that bordered on transcendent. When you began to move, the sensation of both men inside you, separated by only the thinnest barrier, was unlike anything you'd experienced.

They found a rhythm—Jack pulling back as Bobby thrust up, never leaving you empty. Your body was a bridge between them, connecting the brothers in the most intimate way possible.

Jack's hand snaked around to rub your clit as they moved within you. "Come for us," he commanded. "Let us feel you."

Your second orgasm was more powerful than the first, your body clenching around both men, drawing them deeper. Bobby came first, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulsed inside you. Jack followed moments later, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he found his release.

The three of you collapsed in a tangle of limbs, sweat-slicked and breathless. For several minutes, no one spoke, the only sound in the room your collective breathing gradually slowing.

Jack was the first to move, extracting himself carefully before disappearing into the bathroom. Bobby held you against his chest, his heartbeat gradually steadying beneath your ear.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, his hand stroking your hair.

You nodded, too spent for words.

When Jack returned, he brought a warm washcloth, cleaning you with surprising tenderness. The brothers yet again exchanged a look over your head—something unspoken passing between them that you couldn't decipher.

"What happens now?" you finally asked, voicing the question that hung in the air.

Jack stretched out beside you, his hand finding yours. "Now? Now we sleep. Tomorrow…" He shrugged, that familiar Kennedy smile playing at his lips. "Tomorrow we figure it out."

Bobby's arm tightened around you. "Jack's right. For tonight, let's just be."

You settled between them, Jack's chest to your back, Bobby's to your front. As sleep began to claim you, you felt the tension that had existed between the brothers ease slightly. Whatever competition had driven them before seemed temporarily sated.

In the morning, you knew, the complications would return. The world outside this bedroom would intrude with all its expectations and judgments. But for now, caught between two of the most promising political scions in Washington, you allowed yourself to simply exist in the moment.

Just before you drifted off, you felt Jack's lips at your ear. "I always did like sharing with Bobby," he murmured, "but I never expected to enjoy it quite this much."

Bobby's soft chuckle rumbled against your chest. "For once, brother, we're in complete agreement."

[bobbykennedyshusband]

“Dream A Little Dream Of Me” 💝

Bobby Kennedy x Reader

synopsis : Bobby has always given you everything you’ve ever wanted, always spoiled you endlessly, and a certain dream makes you feel ready to do the same in return, in the best way you can.

word count : 1.8k

warnings : nothing graphic goes on, just talks about domestic family life and marriage

authors note : hiii this is my first fanfic ever so it might be kind of all over the place, sincerest apologies if that’s the case. also sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy!!

🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽

Bright beams of sunshine passed in through your window, breaking through the silky curtains Bobby had put up for you months earlier, and pulling you from your deep sleep. You rubbed your eyes carefully and shifted slightly, rolling over so your back faced the window and nuzzling your face into the pillow Bobby usually slept on as you began to think. Your mind was fogged by the aftermath of deep slumber, but you could remember one thing clearly. You’d been having quite vivid dreams all night long, ones that made you think about things you hadn’t even considered. Made you think about Bobby, and your future, and the past and present too.

The last time you remembered having a dream as vivid as the one from last night was on the night after Bobby’s proposal to you.

You’d been so excited, and all night long your mind had gifted you with visions of a big, beautiful wedding—a long white aisle with a lace veil trailing along it, wedding rings, Bobby’s tanned hands holding yours and his lips offering generous kisses, an impressively beautiful layered cake, ribbons in your bridesmaids’ hair. It’d all been wonderful to get to imagine, and it left you smiling and blushing bashfully when you awoke, excited like a schoolgirl who’d just been asked to prom.

It hadn’t all just been dreams either, for all of it had really been brought to life, thanks to the sweet nature of your darling Bobby and his extensive familial wealth. You’d told him about your dream, and about your fantasies of your ideal perfect wedding. He’d taken every bit into consideration, and made it all a reality on your big day. The venue and decor at your real wedding had all been beautiful, just like in your dreams—pale shades of pink, yellow, cream, and blue dancing all around the place in exquisitely pleasing order—and the ceremony had been even better, the most romantic, fulfilling moments of your entire life that nothing could’ve ever prepared you nor could ever live up to.

For your honeymoon as well, he’d planned that according to your fantasies of a perfect vacation months earlier. You’d been flipping through a women’s magazine and saw photos of a beautiful 17th century estate in Portugal. A big, castle like home with dozens of rooms of gleaming marble and stone and intricate hand painted designs. A large garden out front filled with beautiful flowers, with a big staircase leading to a huge crystal clear pool, acres of perfect green grass and a clear path through the enormity of the estate intended to be used as a moat of admiration. The coast was nearby, as well, so you could make a trip out to the beach whenever you wanted.

You had adored the property, and showed it to Bobby later that evening in bed. You’d hinted at maybe going somewhere like that for your honeymoon, or for some other vacation down the line. You hadn’t explicitly stated that you wanted to stay in that exact home, you knew renting it would be enormously expensive and you didn’t want to make Bobby feel like he had to put all the money unnecessarily into something like that. You didn’t want to seem too frivolous or like a gold digger, nor did you want to overwhelm him. Your worries were completely thrown out the window by Bobby, though, and you discovered this was such when he surprised you about a week later with plane tickets to Portugal and the news he’d rented the whole place out for your honeymoon.

You’d been so excited and thanked him nearly hundreds of times, basking in the joy of having a man that really seemed to be eager to do absolutely anything under the sun if it would please you. He was so doting and so kind, and spoiled you so much you almost felt guilty for it. You knew you were much luckier than most women, knew you had the greatest husband you possibly could. He gave you everything, did everything, and it made you want to do the same for him.

And maybe that—knowing Bobby would do anything for you, everything was possible with him, you could have any future you thought up thanks to his doting unconditional sweetness—was why you’d dreamed so vividly of finally making a father out of him.

That was certainly the greatest gift you could give him, and was a dream of yours, like a majority of other wonderful things you’d enjoyed together.

Your dreams of a wedding had of course come true, your dreams of a perfect honeymoon had come true, you had a marriage that would’ve been the stuff of fairytale and fantasy to you when you were a young girl. Maybe this was supposed to come true as well. Maybe the next thing you were meant to have was.. a baby.

You were snapped out of your long winded train of thought by the door creaking open, and you turned your head up to see none other than Bobby stepping into the room, in all his handsome Kennedy glory. He usually got up earlier than you and wasn’t in bed when you woke up, so you hadn’t even really processed his absence till now, but now that you had, you realized you’d missed him. He was already dressed for the day in a sweater and slacks, and held a cup of coffee for you in his hand.

“Well, good morning, dear.” That familiar boyish smile came onto his face as he spoke and made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge and setting your mug down on the nightstand. He leaned down, brushing your soft hair off of your face and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, his lips curved up in a faint smile.

“I would’ve woken you up a bit sooner, but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t bring myself to.” Bobby spoke, keeping his voice soft and running his fingers through your hair, gazing down at you. “I made a cup of coffee for you. Figured you’d want it, you usually do.”

You allowed yourself to relax against his touch and shut your eyes again, though it wasn’t for the intention of sleeping or even really relaxing. It just served the purpose of allowing you to focus more solely on Bobby’s gentle touch, and bask in the quiet intimacy of the moment without the extra stimulation of sight.

You gave a slight nod after he told you he’d brought you coffee, smiling softly. Bobby was quiet for a moment after your lack of a response, and he soon started to talk about his duties for the day, softly speaking about plans with Jack. He had a few meetings or something, and had paperwork to fill out. You didn’t really know, as you hadn’t been listening much. You were too busy thinking still, and Bobby always had a tendency to ramble.

You gently interrupted him a minute or two into his soft rambling.

“I dreamed about you.”

Bobby was snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing your voice. He processed your words and smiled a bit at them but didn’t respond with much, just a soft, “Yeah?”

He was hoping his lack of substantial reply would encourage you to speak again, and tell him more. He was always interested in what went on in your mind, whether it was when you were asleep or awake. He thought you had a beautiful way of thinking, a beautiful mind and psyche. Probably why he always took your advice on serious matters, with no second thoughts.

“I dreamed that.. that we had a baby. A little girl. She had your eyes and smile, and my hair. We loved her so much, she fit right into everything. It felt so real. We gave her a pink nursery and she had little pajamas with Bambi on them, and we put little pink bows in her hair. Oh, it was so precious.”

Bobby’s eyes went slightly wide for a moment at the words that sounded from you. He hadn’t necessarily been expecting to hear that, but he wasn’t upset about it. No no, not upset at all. Quite the opposite, really. He’d been waiting to hear something like that from you, waiting for a confirmation that you were ready for a life like that with him. He’d always known that you would eventually, he’d just chosen to be a gentleman and wait for you to decide when you wanted it. And now that it sounded like you were reaching that point, he was beyond excited. The prospect of a baby, a sweet little thing to cherish and love, filled him bright joy.

“Well I.. I’d be ready to make that a reality. That is, only if you are, Y/N. You’ve never brought this up before, so don’t decide on a spur of the moment type thing. We have all the time in the world, you know.”

You’d been married for just under a year, but you loved eachother so deeply, you both could be certain that nothing could happen that would cause you to split. And most certainly a baby wouldn’t . A baby would be a blessing, the physical embodiment of your love for eachother. It’d tie you together even more, make you as close as you possibly could be past marriage, bonded for life. You’d be parents together, the natural next big step in your love story.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at the man in front of you. You smiled softly and reached your hand up to rest it on his hand that was still against your cheek. You leaned your head to the side a bit and gently kissed his palm. “I.. I think I’m ready, Bobby. I just needed a little reminder that it was a possibility for us. I guess that’s why the angels or something blessed me with a dream about it.”

Bobby’s smile widened and he gazed for a moment before sliding his hand away, instead wrapping both of his arms around your waist and pulling you up slightly. He leaned in further and pressed gentle kisses to your face, all along your cheeks and your forehead and jaw, and anywhere else he could reach without going below the neck. You smiled brightly and allowed him to shower you in all this attention, definitely enjoying it quite a bit and showing your appreciation in soft giggles and an embrace, your arms sliding around his neck.

Bobby finally stopped the kisses and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. His face was smooth, so you knew he’d shaved this morning, and you could feel his lips curved up into a smile against your skin. You slid your fingers through his hair, and he sweetly spoke up.

“What are we waiting for then?”

[kennedydrabbles]

Magic Touch

A/N: I don’t know that anyone will read this but please be gentle with me 😂 I haven’t written anything for months and I’ve never written for Bobby Kennedy before.

Summary: Bobby shows up stressed out and you give him a massage.

Warnings: brief comment about being a mistress, possible bad writing, possible odd typo, probably bad grammar, I think that’s about it.

Word Count: 1,324 words.

~*~

it was 1961 and you were Bobby Kennedy’s mistress. The two of you had been seeing each other for a year now, mainly in the form of him sneaking in and out of the apartment he had been renting for you. Tonight was Wednesday, one of the nights he always came over for dinner. You were reclining on the couch with a magazine, having just put a chicken in the oven to roast.

Your eyes currently scanned over an article talking about Ham the Chimpanzee that had been rocketed into space, when Bobby knocked on the door.

“Coming!” You yelled, standing up and folding the cover of the magazine back, still holding it with one hand before heading over to answer the door, to a frazzled looking Bobby.

“Sorry I’m late, honey.” He said, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he ducked into the apartment quickly. You could tell something was wrong, his body language was tense.

“Bobby, did something happen today?” You asked, putting the magazine on the coffee table before taking him gently by the hand and leading him to the sofa.

He sat down heavily on it, “Yes, something did.” He said tiredly as you settled down next to him, his arm finding its way round your shoulder as you melted into his side.

“Is everything okay?”

He sighed, pressing his body closer to yours. “I just got a call from Jack, he wants to see me tomorrow morning.”

You nodded, pulling him closer to you and gently carding your fingers through his thick brown hair, you listened attentively, while he continued to struggle to relax his tense muscles. The added stress of the botched bay of pigs invasion not helping with his already high stress level as he continued his crusade against organized crime.

“I know he wants to talk to me about the hearings, I just don’t understand why it has to be so early in the morning.” He sighed, his eyes drifting closed as though he could drift off to sleep right there. You knew he was always like that, he could stay awake for days at a time when he was focused on something and needed to get it done, then he would suddenly crash when he wasn’t.

“Alright, come with me, Beaver.” You spoke, gently, holding your hand out to him as you stood up off the couch, the moniker, ‘Beaver’ that only you called him bringing a brief smile to his face. He took your hand, allowing you to gently pull him to stand up, leading him from the living room, through the hallway and into the small apartment bedroom.

“Alright, here, sit down.” You said, pushing gently on his shoulders, getting him to sit down on the end of the bed as you knelt to untie the laces of his dress shoes, slipping them and his socks off his feet as he sat above you. Once done, you stood back up, moving to get a clothes hanger from the closet next before beginning to undress him gently, his big sapphire blue eyes watched your delicate little hands loosen his tie and pull it from around his neck, before gently tugging his shirt up and out of his dress pants to unbuttoning it.

Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you pushed it off his shoulders and placed it on the hanger, then put it back in the closet before you returned to help him unzip his pants and pull them off, leaving him sitting there in just his undershirt and boxers.

“Do you want me to rub your back?” You asked softly, kneeling in front of him again.

He looked down at you kneeling on the floor, your features illuminated by the warm glow of a bedside light, and gave a simple nod. As you stood up, he pulled off his undershirt and tossed it aside to the floor.  

“Lay down on your belly.”

Your voice gentle, before moving to get some lotion to rub him down with. Upon your return you climbed up next to him on the bed, and sat on his bum with a leg on either side of him. Squirting some lotion into your palm, you warmed it between your hands before gently beginning to rub his shoulders with firm gentle pressure.

“Oh God, that feels so good.”

Bobby sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head on the pillow, feeling his tension slowly beginning to ease away with the gentle glide of your hands across his shoulders and back.

“I love the feel of your hands on me.” He purred.

“You’re so tense, I don’t even know how you managed to make it into this building.” You snickered, continuing to massage his back.

“Neither do I, some days.” A chuckle left his lips before sighing at the feeling of your thumbs running down either side of his spine before rubbing firm circles over the muscles on either side.

He grumbled a little as he spoke, “I’m sorry I was late tonight, sweetheart.”

“Bobby, my sweetest, most precious little beaver, I don’t care, it was 14 minutes.” Giggling, you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Yes, but it’s the principle. A man should be on time to see his girl.” He said adamantly. You could never tell if it was him saying it because he was a stickler for detail or if he always felt so guilty for being a little late because of his fondness for you.

“You know I don’t care how long I have to wait, as long as I get to see you.” you cooed, hitting a particularly pesky knot on his lower back, “my gosh, this is like a monkey fist knot.”

He grunted as you pressed deeply into the knot.

“There was a lot of traffic on the Beltway.” Bobby groaned, his eyes screwing shut, “My God you have magic hands.”

“Today they’re magic!” you giggled incredulously, “the other day you told me that they were so small they were like hamster paws.” You laughed out right, continuing to rub the tender knot even more gently than before.

“Yes, well that wasn’t a lie.” He chuckled, sighing as the muscle in his back finally began to relax under your ministrations. “It feels like you’re trying to tenderize me.”

“If you really want to be tenderized I can go get my mallet out of the kitchen.” You joked, moving up to rub his shoulders again. He was almost purring by the time you finished, snickering, you moved off his butt, playfully tapping it like you would a set of bongos.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” he flipped himself over and grabbed you before you were fast enough to move away, pulling you down against his body and rolling you on top of him. You squealed as he grinned at you, one arm around you, holding you close and the other hand caressing your cheek, before pushing an escaped piece of hair behind your ear.

“I have to go take the chicken out of the oven.” You whispered pecking the corner of his mouth softly as you looked adoringly into his blue eyes. His grip on your waist tightened.

“No.” he grumbled playfully with a shake of his head.

“Bobby, the chicken is burning.” you tried to roll off him, but he held you gently, “Let me go.” You laughed.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His tone playful, as he smiled before kissing you properly, you giggled moving your lips gently against his, your lips puffy and red as you pulled away from his equally puffy lips.

“C’mon, Beaver, I’m going to run you a bath after you eat dinner.”

“Alright, alright I’ll let you go.” He released you, watching as you went into to the kitchen, but he laid in the same position for a few moments longer, enjoying the feeling your gentle massaging had left on his body, not just physically but mentally.

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

Characters/Ships I write for

If you have a request for a character/ship that isn't here but is a part of the fandoms listed here, send me an ask, and I'll see if I can write it! Masterlist . Rules Requests are Closed

I am not writing the Riordanverse for a while for personal reasons.

(I do not support jkr, trans women are women)

Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Will LaMontagne Jr, Luke Alvez

Divergent: Peter Hayes, Tobias Eaton

Resident Evil: Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Ethan Winters, Carlos Oliveira

Inheritance Games: Jameson Hawthrone, Grayson Hawthorne, Nash Hawthrone

Harry Potter: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Newt Scamander, Cedric Diggory

Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Jack Thompson, Daniel Sousa, Sam Wilson, Matt Murdock, Joaquin Torres

Maze Runner: Thomas, Newt, Minho, Aris

Hunger Games: Coriolanus Snow, Finnick Odair, Peeta Mellark

Riordanverse: Luke Castellan, Leo Valdez, Jason Grace, Percy Jackson

The Umbrella Academy: Ben Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves, Viktor Hargreeves

Arcane: Viktor, Jayce Talis, Ekko

Others: Cardan Greenbriar(Folk of the Air), Jace Wayland(Shadowhunters), The Darkling(Shadow and Bone), Kaz Brekker(Six of Crows), Ravi Singh(AGGGTM), Peter Sutherland(The Night Agent), Donald Ressler(The Blacklist), Master Chief(Halo), Robert Chase(House MD)

I write ships too! These include Jily(james potter x lily evans), Hinny(harry potter x ginny weasley), Larkland(peter sutherland x rose larkin), Steggy(steve rogers x peggy carter), Wolfstar(sirius black x remus lupin), Percabeth(percy jackson x annabeth chase), Ronmione(ron weasley x hermione granger), Willifer(will lamontauge jr x jj), Malina(malyen oretsev x alina starkov), Remadora(remus lupin x andromeda tonks), Cleon(claire redfield x leon kennedy), Valveria(jill valentine x carlos oliveira), Thearoy(thea queen x roy harper), Newtmas(newt x thomas), SunWings(apollo x icarus), Eurymene(eurylochus x ctimene), OdyPen(odysseus x penelope), Meljayvik(mel merdada x jayce talis x viktor), Melvik(mel merdada x viktor), Jayvik(jayce talis x viktor), Meljay(mel merdada x jayce talis), Caitvi(caitlyn x vi), Timebomb(Ekko x Jinx/Powder), Zaundads(Vander x Silco)

[harlemdream]

He would NEVER hit a woman but he's so Lana coded so... 💋

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

Unexpected (how a punch can turn into a meet-cute)

pairing: robert f kennedy x oc (ava worthing synopsis: It was an unexpected turn for Robert when Ethel chose God over him and left their relationship to join a convent. He understood her to some measurement as a Catholic, yet a part of him thought he had found the one. He decided to dedicate himself not to God but help his older brother on his growing political and government career.  So, in 1949, even with a broken heart he went on with his studies at the University of Virginia. He made a few good friends and befriended Alec Worthing, whose younger sister he ended up meeting in 1958 at a campaign celebration party for Jack after he was re-elected to the Senate after winning against Republican lawyer Vincent J. Celeste.  warnings: age gap (around 12 years), no smut (if that's even a warning?), a single punch, harassment, bruised knuckles, swearing. notes: this is an rpf and not based on any fact, just delusional daydreams from this gal.

1958 - 4th of November, Boston, MA

“Now, Bobby, my kid sister’s a bit of nuisance. She breathes poetry and reads too much. Ignore her enthusiasm, it’s her first campaign party.” Alec said sipping champagne from a plastic cup as he and Bobby watch the celebrations. Jack was dancing with Jackie. “She’s freshly 21 and wants everyone to know it and...” Alec got distracted when a redheaded campaign aid came to them and asked him for a turn on the dance floor. Flushed, Alec nodded and left Bobby behind.  

Bobby leaned on the back wall smoking a cigar and already thinking of having to soon return to the Senate Rackets Committee where he was chief counsel. He was in deep thought while his eyes wandered around the busy and joyful room. His sight then fixed on a young woman who he had never met before and who seemed to be having some issues with a campaign aid in a corner of the large office space were the campaign office was. The male aid stood close to her; he saw her squirm and so Bobby made his way towards her and the man towering over her.  

As he was nearing, he stopped when the woman decked the man and pushed out into the hallway outside the main room. Bobby made a mental note to have that man taken off the management team. 

Was she alright? 

He decided to find out and saw her in the empty hallway and saw her hold her right hand. She hadn’t noticed him. Music and the warm light crept into the dark hallway where only a single window brought in moonlight. The light bounced back on her blonde hair and light blue dress. She heard his footsteps, and her body went frigid. 

Looking at him standing a few feet away from her. “Are you...his friend?” She asked, her voice steadier than Bobby had expected.  

“No.” he said.  

She nodded her head slowly, “How much did you see?” 

“I saw you punch him.” 

She muttered under her breath a soft “shit!” while clutching her right hand. “Did anyone else notice?” 

Bobby shook his head ‘no’. “I don’t think so. Can I come closer?”  

She took a step back. “Why?” 

“To see if your hand's alright.” 

“You won’t try anything?” 

“I don’t want to take my chances. I saw what you did to the last guy.” He tried to joke but saw her expression not change. “I won’t try anything. I promise.” 

She looked at him skeptically but walked towards him. “It doesn’t hurt that much.” She showed him her hand, her knuckles bruised with blue and purple. 

“How hard did you hit him?” He asked gently touching her hand avoiding the bruise. 

She shrugged, “Harder than I thought.” 

“You should get some ice on it. Sit here, I’ll bring you some.” He gestured for her to sit down on one of the benches in the hallway.  

She looked apprehensive. “What if he finds me? Can’t I come with you?” 

Robert nodded and led her to the staff kitchen where there was ice kept in the freezer. He turned on the light and the young woman jumped onto the counter and looked at him as he found a dish towel and wrapped it around a handful of ice.  

He put it onto her knuckles holding it place. “You should hold it on for a while.”  

She nodded and placed her hand on the cloth as he removed his. He put some distance between them. Several beats of silence later. 

The woman broke it: “What’s your name? I’d like to know who to send a thank you card to.” 

“Robert Kennedy.”  He spoke. A look of recognition passed her face. Her eyes widened in a quite almost cartoonish way. 

“Kennedy? I should’ve known.” She said, and for the first time he saw her smile and laugh, “My friends will lose their minds when I tell them Bobby Kennedy put ice on my hand.” Her expression then changed. “You went to UV with my brother, right?” 

Now it was Robert’s turn to look surprised. “You’re Alec’s kid sister?” 

“That’s me. Ava Worthing.” She said before scoffing, “Though I’m not much of kid anymore, I’m senior at Vassar and much more mature than he can give me credit.” 

And so, they talked without noticing the passage of time. It was simple for both, to move from topic to topic. It was strange how easy it was. They hardly knew anything about each other and somehow, they clicked into place. 

She was curious about politics and about what was happening in the courts with the Teamsters. Robert showed his passionate side and found himself enthralled at how she kept up with him. She told him about her own interests and that she wanted to be a writer and to better the world in any way she could. 

End (for now...)

///

Taglist: @jackiesgirl, @theverystrangegirl27, @fortheloveofjos, @kennediva, @stargiirl27

masterlist and future parts: Unthinkable, Unadvised.

[melancholicstation]

summer wine ( and an angel’s kiss in spring ) — bobby f. kennedy

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

summary: during a party hosted in light of senator john f. kennedy’s presidential candidacy announcement, bobby and you sneak away into the background and have about as much fun as a person can have at a political campaign celebration🍷🛌 …

tags: 18+, making love against a secretary desk, religious imagery, hair pulling, oral ( female receiving ), unprotected s*x, desk breaking

words: 1783

Sure, you’ll bite: a campaign celebration soirée for your husband’s older brother’s presidential ticket wasn’t exactly your idea of a rousing saturday evening but when jack tells you to be somewhere, well that’s just where you’re gonna be: at least that’s where bobby would always be.

It’s bordering on 2:00 am and you’ve just about tried as many old fashions and sidecars as you can stomach for the time being so you switch to a vintage choosing of dubonnet cherry wine.

You haven’t talked to bobby much all day which isn’t so out of the ordinary: evidently he was a man very much in demand. You’d just become to miss him as his frame comes into your periphery. A sight just calibrated for your oh so terribly sore eyes!

You smile and beckon him over, not unlike calling over an excitable puppy, he’s quick to start into quick jog. The squeaks of his leather derbies colliding with the teak flooring, but being quickly drowned out to all ears by the booming, assaulting volume of irish ballads playing from the far side of the gathering hall.

“Hey Sugar how’re you doin’? Has Mrs Bridges been hassling you about going that murder-mystery bookclub again I—by god I can see in your face, of course she has. How many times?”

“Three times” you say through breathy laughs as you fuss over the positioning of the shark-type collar he dons, eventually laying it flat against his collarbone littered with blonde baby-hairs like a garden of baby breaths.

“Three times this night or this hour my dear?” He says while responding to my incessant fixing and prodding’s by grabbing the hair from the nape, splitting it into two with hands much larger than yours, arranging them across your shoulders.

“Three times this hour” You move to lay your head across his collarbone but close was never close enough for you as of late, you would nest yourself in his ribs if you could tucked around his sternum. “Oh god, my poor, poor girl. I extend my deepest apologies that I wasn’t there to run interference: though I don’t believe it would’ve stopped her pursuits much” he says in a condescendingly charming fashion.

“Oh you’re really sorry” “Terribly so” “How sorry are you?”

“Well if you join me in the back I can show you just how deep my sympathies truly lie.” He exclaims in a tone that balances the intimacy of such an offer with a boyish-like spin.

The brazenness of his offer makes you giggle profusely, calling the attention to older couples who interact with their partners like they sleep in separate beds: so you don’t pay them much mind, a tell-tale sign that bobby’s one too many of the amortised wines served was his rare streak of promiscuity that would rear its head. Much to your amusement as his wife.

You scurry off little teenagers running to make out under the bleachers, you allow bobby to lead you as he’s more familiar with the event space than you were. He leads you into an abandoned looking secretarial office, with a hand curled around the crevice of your elbow like a devout would hold a beaded rosary, a loving kind of possession.

strawberries cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring…

You both look around the room quite impolitely in sheer curiosity: opening rusty drawers, flicking through empty filing cabinets until you both land on a particular item resting on the wall parallel to the door. A slanted front writing desk in a deep caramel tinted mahogany wood. A brass handle dangles in the breeze from the slightly draft coming in through the door.

Bobby and you both grinning and make eye contact: immediately moving to pull down the handle to woefully find it particularly barren: no secret notes or diary entry’s. Your face mirrors each other’s pout, as you try to test the sturdiness of the writing desk. To your surprise it holds its own under the full weight of your hand. Noticing this Bobby catches on, asking “Do ya’ think it’s sturdy enough?”

“Looks sturdy enough to me” you grin as you slowly back your behind up and onto the desk. Your legs finding balance resting on the lower portion of Bobby’s thigh. Slowly your Mary Jane black pumps start to find perch higher and higher on his thigh, eventually reaching the mound beneath his dress pants. You decide to tease him a bit and start to circle your foot around the mound, to which Bobby moans under his breath, shyly and throws his head back clearly overwhelmed. He lets you toy with him for a few short moments until you’re sure he had had enough, and moves to wrap your legs and thighs around the width of his hips. “Ya sure you want to do this here, y’know I could tell Jack we’ve had an issue with the babysitter and need to get home. I—I just quite feel disrespectful taking you in a place that has about 5 distinguishable moulds living in it. “Not that I don’t want to, cause trust me my girl I do it’s just—“

my summer wine is really made from all these things…

“Hush, I don’t care if there’s mould spors I need you on me this instance Kennedy. Depriving your wife! My I can’t think of a more disrespectful act can you Bobby?” You say in a bullish-yet feminine tone that immediately snaps Bobby out of his overthinking spiral: a good trait in a campaign manager not in a husband. Great for Jack, not so much for you.

“Okay—Okay I’m sorry baby you know how I get” “Oh I do now clear your mind of it this instance”

take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time…

“Totally clear” he says in a self assured tone as he moves to delicately remove his dress pants throwing them over the side of the large ottoman that most definitely has some form of bed bug inhabitants. Leaving him in his torn boxers: that he refuses to throw in the garbage disposal, holes that allow you to see the mountain of hair littered going from his belly button down to his significant mound.

In stark contrast he handles the undressing of yourself with the care and devotion of a man who knows his woman only has eyes for him, and vis versa. He neatly dissembles your outfit: a billowing ruffled crepe blouse paired with a pleated black skirt and flesh coloured tights. In his excavation of your outfit he uncovers the surprise you’d dressed on yourself for him to find.

Once he got you down to just your stockings he could see what you longed for him to find since you slipped them on: a bikini brief with embroidered lettering spelling out “bobby’s girl” on the front in lapis blue.

and i will give to you my summer wine…

Bobby’s face morphs into the face of a man starved: finally finding a dam in a four day trek through an unforgiving desert. The underwear is quickly pulled off and placed hastily into the pocket of his suit jacket, causing his pocket square to be slightly roughened up. To your surprise, but not shock as Bobby was always the kind to give before he ever received himself, got down on his knees and started to lap at your cunt ferociously: talk about a man starved. You’d heard the rumours of Bobby far before you had met him in the flesh, far before you’d married and had children with him: Bobby was thought to have been a ruthless character with the temperament of a caged pit bull.

But that wasn’t the Bobby you saw that day you met him for the first time, and it wasn’t the Bobby you were looking at now. Now he was worshipping, and at his happiest while doing it.

Soon enough you felt the inevitable wave of pleasure wash over you, and in that bliss reached for Bobby always wanting to bask in that with the man who made it all possible. “Did that feel good baby?” “So-so-so-so good Bobby you should have shed that humbleness with me a long time ago” You say as you soothingly ( for the both of you ) try to smooth down tufts of his hair, now severely roughened up, and clear away the luminescent substance absolutely coating the entirety of his chin and a portion of his plush, bottom lip.

But just as you get your wits about you, he starts to line up and invades you in the most decedent way a person could be invaded.

“Harder”

To which Bobby lays flat a hand on your chin, keeping your attention fully locked onto him as he bullies his large mound into your cunt at a solid pace but steadily increasing in fervour. As a cause of this the desk starts to rock. Continually ricocheting rhythmic sounds of the desk hitting the skirting of the wall over, and over, and over again.

“Dear God, you’re as tight as ever. You’re killing me” Bobby continues to praise how soft you are, how good you are to him, and how he can only aspire and yearn to make you feel as good as he does at this moment.

when i woke up the sun was shining in my eyes…

A mounting shudder creeps upon you like a ghost in the night, following behind you Bobby shudders and then finally stills, still sheathed inside you.

You both take a couple minutes to recoup which consists: of lots of handholding, reassuring, and kisses upon naps of necks.

my silver spurs were gone, my head felt twice its size…

It is only when you get up, as Bobby gathers both of your garments, that you identify a large split in the wood spanning from the hinges. You laugh at it half mortified and half impressed with the two of you’s strength and call over Bobby.

my summer wine is really made from all these things.

To which he comes over, observes the large spilt that definitely wasn’t there prior and searches his pockets. In there he finds a letter opener and to your surprise carved into the rich wood:

“Y/n and Bobby forever 1960-01-02”

the end.

[kennedyism]

now this looks like fun giggles

Surfin’ USA.

Bobby Kennedy x reader

Summary: Spending a day on the beach with Bobby? Yes please. (Need that!!!!!)

Warnings: This is all just for fun, no need to take this seriously!

Tag list: @jackiesgirl @quietamericans @obsessedwithjohnjr @fortheloveofjos @melancholicstation @rocker-chick-7 @bleatngheart @joansiesbeloved

author’s note: TELL THE TEACHER WE’RE SURFINNNNN SURFIN USAAAAA

“Gee, Jack, I think your age is catching up to you, you can’t even keep up!”

You watch your fiancé run around with the football in the sand, sunglasses covering your eyes as you stare. It makes you laugh seeing the president trying to keep tabs on his younger, more athletic, younger brother. You’re the only… not Kennedy woman yet, but you get the point, here.

“Hey, Baby!” Bobby shouts, making you snort. He’s so corny, but it’s okay since it’s him. He comes over to you, only in his swim trunks, looking down at you, football in hand. “You oughta come play. Jack’s gettin’ his ass handed to him. You could probably beat him.” He snickers, looking down at your face, then your bikini, not in a sexual way, but just to look at how beautiful you are.

“No, I’m alright… go enjoy yourself.”

Bobby then sits beside you in the sand, pressing a kiss on your cheek which makes you giggle. “Oh, stop… Not here.” You laugh, trying to push him away. but he’s a lot stronger than you, making him lean a bit more next to you, practically pinning you with only sitting next to you.

“Not my fault you’re so pretty.” He flirts, which makes you laugh. Bobby is not normally a flirter. That’s his brother, he’s the more logical one, but you’re not complaining about the sudden change of behavior.

Bobby is very unpredictable. You never know his next move, and that’s what makes him all more lovable and attractive. “Okay, lover boy, that’s enough.” You laugh, gently shoving him off you. You then snicker watching him fall gently in the sand.

The attorney general sits up, brushing the sand off his arms, and then he puts his knees to his chest, the wind blowing in his hair as he stares at you with love in his eyes. He then turns his attention to the Beach Boys song on the radio, then back at you. “Well, you gotta stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell outta you.” He sighs out, putting his sunglasses on, and looking at you through the dark plastic.

Those words make you blush, and sputter looking at him. There’s no way he just say that. He seems to be enjoying your reaction, though. You then decide to play along with his games. “Alright… if you wanna kiss me, you gotta catch me.” You say as you stand up, and starting to dart off into the distance.

Bobby is taken back by your actions, and it takes about thirty seconds for it to register and click into his mind, but within that time, he’s onto his feet and chasing after you.

“You forget I played Football!”

“In college!”

“Still played—You callin’ me old?!”

And just as he says that, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace from behind. “Got ya.” He pants, trying to hold you in place, but it’s hard to do so with your squirming and laughter.

“Let go!” You laugh, finally getting out of his grasp, and then you pull Bobby into a kiss, leaving a bright red lipstick mark on his lips, and that makes you burst out laughing, so it makes you do it again. “Oh, wow.” You giggle.

“Are ya done?”

“Not yet…”

You then grab the grab the general’s face, your hands on his cheeks as you place kisses all around his face. You then step back to admire your work. “Now that’s a look.” You say, a hand on your hip, proud of your art work.

“Wow, not gonna let me go out like this, are ya?”

“I gotta let everyone see my work!”

“We can put me in a museum, if you’d like.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

[ddlydevotion]

Husband! Bobby Kennedy x fem reader hcs…

currently listening to: you take my breath away by Queen ₊˚⊹

a/n: part two!! read part one here ₊˚ෆ !!

Bobby loves to read to you any chance that he can get. He’ll have you lay with him as he reads Greek literature in a tone of voice that is so gentle you can’t help but drift off. One of his favorite Greek poets is Aeschylus so expect to become extremely familiar with most of his work throughout your relationship with Bobby.

lighting his cigars for him but also trying your hardest to get him to kick the habit of smoking. He can’t help it ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა his brother’s campaign is stressing him out. He’ll likely turn to eating multiple apples a day to avoid scrambling for a cigar.

mindlessly running your fingers through his chest hair during a day on the beach/in bed...This man is HAIRY, okay? There’s plenty to go around.

he loves praising you in the bedroom and he lays it on thick. He takes his time when undressing you, making sure to pay extra attention to even the tiniest details on your body. He loves reminding you of just how much he truly adores your body. he never leaves you wondering.

Bobby isn't afraid to be affectionate with you when the two of you are out in public. There's hundreds of photos of him leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, reaching for your hand. pressing little kisses to your cheek, pressing a kiss to the hand that's adorned by your massive wedding ring.

like, take a look at this:

he’s the complete opposite of his brother in the ‘public displays of affection’ department. There’s hardly any photos of Jack being affectionate with Jackie, but when it comes to you and Bobby? There’s a shit ton.

Bobby still manages to make time for you despite everything he has going on with the campaign. He has a set schedule that's reserved for calling and checking in on you. He'll ask all about your day and isn't afraid to ask for even the tiniest of details pertaining to your daily/nightly activities.

He lovesssss reading his favorite poetry to you. He'd fall even deeper in love with you which he didn't think was possible if you were to show genuine interest in the literature he reads to you. Take a book he showed you, return it to him heavily annotated and he's giving it to you raw that exact night.

as if he wasn't already...

He is obsessed with referring to you as his wife, he even had a few slip ups way before the two of you got married. It didn't even take that long for him to propose to you anyway.

Now, forgive me for being so vulgar but I wholeheartedly believe that this man would love to go down on you. Have you seen the way that man eats an ice cream cone?...exactly

loves reading the letters you give him alongside his lunch. gets a little flushed when he sees your kiss print at the very end of the letter.

rehearses important speeches in front of you and shyly chuckles when he stumbles over his words.

this man would do insane things in order to keep you happy. I mean, he quite literally bought his children a pet seal, a great deal of dogs, and horses. He'd find a way to buy an entire continent if it meant keeping you happy.

Bobby after you defend him against his father/mother:

after reading about how energetic and mischievous he was during JFK’s wedding, I just know he’d act like that amped up by 1,000 at your own wedding. He 100% got teary eyed seeing you walk down the aisle in all your glory. His vows were so beautiful and you couldn’t help but wonder how you even survived before meeting him. How did you ever survive without his love?

Definitely snuck in some of his most loved lines from his favorite authors/poets in his vows.

Bobby croons like a baby bird when you praise him. It doesn’t even have to be in a sexual way. Tell him you like the way he closed off his speech, tell him you’ve noticed how hard he’s worked throughout the entirety of his brothers campaign, tell him you appreciate everything he does for you, and please tell him you like his hair omg. His parents weren’t the best at acknowledging his accomplishments when he was young, so hearing those words from you would complete him.

taglist: @bobbykennedyswife @colorfulmoonperfection @lancerslover

credits to @byuvly for the divider 💌 .

[h-l-vlovesvintage]

to the kennedyfandom

my kennedy focused blog's been taken down, so i'm posting my fanfics over onto my ao3 account.

just finished uploading "save me sabrina fair" over there. all parts that i've written so far. next will be my "unexpected" series, jackie one-shot and other jfk fanfics.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63532681/chapters/162805123

[withthecolorizedkennedys]

omg like fake dating/ fake relationship with rfk x reader but imagine like they fall in real love but they both think the others faking it and yk like yeah

Space Between Us

synopsis: bobby kennedy and you have spent months maintaining the perfect political illusion, a fake relationship that was never meant to be more than a convenience. but one moment changes everything, and suddenly, you’re both forced to face the truth: somewhere along the way, the act stopped being an act.

word count: 1.9k

pairing: robert f. kennedy x reader

rating: e for everyone!!!

The champagne tasted like nothing. Three glasses in and all you could register was the mild burn down your throat, the persistent tickle of bubbles against your upper lip. Across the room, Bobby was deep in conversation with some railroad executive, his hands moving with the precise, controlled energy that always appeared when he was making a point he truly believed in.

You checked your watch—11:42. These campaign events always stretched too long, donors clinging to the promise of influence, to the proximity of power. Not that Bobby seemed to mind. The Kennedy stamina was legendary, and Bobby carried that inheritance differently than Jack. Where his brother wielded charm like a blunt weapon, Bobby's intensity had a quieter edge.

Someone touched your elbow. "Mrs. Whitmore wants to meet you," a campaign aide whispered, nodding toward a silver-haired woman in emerald green.

"Of course," you said, setting down your useless champagne.

Another hour passed in introductions, in careful nods and practiced laughs. Bobby found you just as you were considering a strategic retreat to the powder room.

"There you are," he said, his voice pitched to carry just far enough for nearby ears. His hand settled at the small of your back—warm, firm, familiar after eight months of this arrangement.

"Here I am," you replied, leaning into him slightly. "Mr. Collins was just telling me about his summer home in Newport."

Bobby's smile didn't falter. "Fascinating," he said, though his eyes told you he'd rather hear about paint drying. "Mind if I steal you away? Senator Bruckman is asking for you."

It was a useful fiction. Bobby had created a network of imaginary social obligations that allowed you both to move around these events at will, to extract each other when conversations grew stale or uncomfortable.

The truth was simpler: Bobby was tired, and so were you.

"Excuse me," you said to Mr. Collins with an apologetic smile.

Bobby guided you through the crowd toward the French doors leading to the terrace. The night air hit your face with merciful coolness after the stuffiness inside. He loosened his tie slightly, a small surrender to comfort.

"Collins is a bore, but his wife sits on three charity boards," Bobby said. "Good contact."

"I gathered. Hence the twenty minutes of Newport house dimensions."

Bobby laughed—a real laugh, not the polite one he used inside. "You're getting good at this."

You were. When this arrangement had begun—a suggestion from Joe Sr. after too many questions about Bobby's lack of a serious relationship—you'd been stiff, awkward. Bobby had been equally uncomfortable, his hand hovering an inch away from yours when you walked, his gaze darting away whenever you met his eyes.

Now you moved together easily, a practiced choreography of casual touches and inside jokes. You knew that he'd press his thumb against your wrist when he wanted to leave an event. He knew that when you tucked your hair behind your left ear, you were signaling discomfort. Small things, meaningless things, except they weren't.

"How much longer do we need to stay?" you asked, watching the party through the windows.

"Another half-hour should do it." Bobby checked his watch—the one his father had given him when he graduated Harvard, heavy gold with worn leather straps. "Maybe less if we're strategic."

"Strategic?"

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Say you have a headache. Nothing clears a path faster than a woman with a potential migraine."

"Bobby," you laughed, "that's terrible."

"Pragmatic," he corrected, but his eyes creased with amusement.

"Fine," you said. "But you have to do the concerned boyfriend bit. Really sell it."

Twenty minutes later, Bobby was helping you into the back of a black Cadillac, one hand steadying your elbow as you ducked into the car, his voice carrying just enough worry to be convincing.

"Straight to the Carlyle," he told the driver. Then, quieter: "Thank God."

The silence in the car was comfortable. Bobby loosened his tie further, eventually tugging it off entirely and stuffing it into his jacket pocket. You slipped off your heels, flexing your aching feet.

"Collins asked if we're getting married," you said, watching the city lights slide past the window.

Bobby's expression shifted minutely. "What did you tell him?"

"I did the coy smile, glanced down at my empty ring finger, said something about taking things one day at a time." The script was familiar by now, carefully crafted to be neither confirmation nor denial.

"Good." He rubbed his eyes. "Jack thinks we should keep this going through the campaign at least."

"That's another year and a half," you said, trying to keep your voice neutral.

Bobby looked at you directly then. "Is that a problem?"

It shouldn't have been. The arrangement benefited you too—the connections, the invitations to places your middle-class background would never have granted access to, the simple pleasure of Bobby's company. It was easy, uncomplicated.

Except it wasn't. Not anymore.

"No," you lied. "No problem."

The Carlyle was quiet when you arrived, the lobby nearly empty. Bobby kept his hand at your back as you walked to the elevator, then dropped it once the doors closed. A small surrender to privacy.

His suite was on the twelfth floor—not the presidential suite (too ostentatious for Bobby's taste), but large enough that campaign staff could use the sitting room for impromptu meetings. Tonight, mercifully, it was empty.

"Drink?" Bobby asked, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair.

"Please."

He moved to the bar cart, pouring two fingers of scotch into heavy crystal glasses. You watched his shoulders, the way tension still clung to them even as he tried to unwind.

"You did well tonight," he said, handing you a glass. "Mrs. Whitmore was impressed."

"She talked about her cats for fifteen minutes."

"Yes, but her husband runs the second-largest bank in New York, and she told me before leaving that you were 'refreshingly genuine.'" He smiled. "In this crowd, that's high praise."

You took a slow sip, letting the scotch burn down your throat. "So I'm an asset to the campaign?"

Something flickered across Bobby's face—discomfort, maybe, or guilt. "You're more than that."

"Am I?"

The question hung between you, heavier than intended. Bobby watched you over the rim of his glass, his blue eyes too perceptive, too sharp.

"You know you are," he said finally.

You turned away, moving to the window. The city sprawled below, lights stretching toward the horizon. Your reflection was faint in the glass—evening gown slightly wrinkled, hair coming loose from its careful styling.

Behind you, Bobby set his glass down with a soft clink.

"I need to call Jack," he said. "He'll want an update about Bruckman."

"Of course."

He disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door halfway. His voice drifted out in fragments—something about donation commitments, about press coverage, about next steps.

You kicked off your shoes properly and curled into the corner of the sofa, letting your head rest against the cushion. The event had drained you more than usual. These performances always took something, but lately the cost seemed higher.

By the time Bobby emerged, you were half-asleep, the empty scotch glass balanced precariously on your knee.

"He thinks we're on track," Bobby said, sitting beside you, close enough that you could feel the weight shift in the cushions. "Fundraising is ahead of projections."

"That's good," you murmured, though you weren't thinking about campaign finances.

Bobby reached for the glass, his fingers brushing yours as he took it. He set it on the coffee table, then leaned back beside you with a soft exhale.

"I'm tired," he admitted, rare vulnerability in the words.

You turned to look at him—really look at him. The shadows under his eyes were deeper than usual, the lines around his mouth more pronounced. Robert Kennedy, the ruthless younger brother, the campaign mastermind, the man whispered to be Jack's secret weapon—right now he just looked exhausted.

"Then sleep," you said softly.

"Not that kind of tired."

You understood. It wasn't physical fatigue but something deeper—the weight of constant performance, of strategic thinking, of calculated moves. Bobby lived with the burden of his name, of his brother's ambitions, of his father's demands.

Without thinking, you reached out, letting your fingers brush against his temple, pushing back a strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead. He went still under your touch.

"Sorry," you whispered, drawing back.

Bobby caught your wrist, holding it lightly. For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you.

It was nothing like the performative kisses you'd shared before—the brief press of lips for photographers, the chaste goodbye kisses when parting at events. This was soft, uncertain, real.

He pulled back after barely a second, something like shock in his eyes, as if he'd surprised himself.

"Force of habit," he said, the words strangled.

You couldn't speak. Your lips still felt the phantom pressure of his.

Bobby stood abruptly, moving to the window where you'd stood earlier. His shoulders were rigid, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Bobby," you said finally.

"Don't." His voice was tight.

"We should talk about—"

"There's nothing to talk about." He was using his attorney voice now, the one that shut down arguments and closed doors. "It was a mistake."

You stood too, anger and hurt rising in equal measure. "A mistake."

"Yes."

"Look at me, at least."

He turned, reluctance in every line of his body. His expression was guarded, but his eyes—God, his eyes were full of things he wasn't saying.

"This is a professional arrangement," he said, each word careful, measured. "We both know that."

"Do we?"

Bobby ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way he'd never allow in public. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," you admitted. "Something true, for once."

Bobby stepped closer, close enough that you could see the pulse jumping in his throat. "True?" His voice had dropped, rough at the edges. "The truth is I can't stop thinking about you. Even when we're not—" He gestured vaguely between you, "—doing this."

Your breath caught. "Bobby..."

"I know what this was supposed to be." His hand came up to your face, thumb grazing your cheek. "A strategic move. Convenient for both of us."

"And now?"

"Now I find myself inventing reasons to call you. Making up events we need to attend together." The confession tumbled out, reluctant but unstoppable. "I catch myself reaching for your hand when there's no one around to see it."

You covered his hand with yours, keeping it against your face. "I thought it was just me."

Bobby's laugh was short, disbelieving. "No. God, no."

This time when he kissed you, it wasn't gentle or hesitant. His mouth claimed yours with certainty, with hunger, with months of restraint finally broken. You clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer as his hands tangled in your hair, careful styling completely forgotten.

When you broke apart, breathing hard, Bobby kept his forehead pressed to yours.

"What happens now?" you asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. His hands slid to your waist, keeping you close. "But I don't want to pretend anymore. Not with you."

"The campaign—"

"Will adapt." Bobby Kennedy, always practical, even now. "We'll figure it out."

You smiled, a real smile that had nothing to do with practiced appearances. "Is that what we do? Figure things out?"

"Together?" His eyes searched yours, unguarded for once. "Yes."

Bobby pulled back just enough to take your hand. Your fingers laced with his, fitting perfectly. For the first time, there was no audience to perform for, no reason to touch except the simple desire to be connected.

"Stay," he said quietly.

So you did.

[bobbykennedyshusband]

very tempted to write kennedys x reader fanfics but I’m not sure how big the demographic for that is

also don’t know what people would wanna read

hmmmm