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rollingsins · 7 months

Text

all hers, epilogue

summary: Tara and YN try their hand at some healthier habits.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence. Smut.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: it's been a wild ride. thanks for all who have come along. all hers is over, but I will still be writing gf!tara drabbles in the same universe - maybe some college oneshots in the drabble files. Until then: enjoy the final chapter! :))

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months, slowly, the pain subsides.

Your normal? It’s potentially forever gone. It shouldn’t be a surprise, at this point.

Once you’d just been a teenage girl, crazily in love with another girl.

Who turned out to be a serial killer. Who’d somehow turned you into a killer.

Who’d made you cry, and laugh and love harder than you’d ever loved in your entire life.

In the grand scheme of things - the scar on your belly is probably the least of your worries.

But that doesn’t stop you toiling on it.

It always seems to be the way, doesn’t it? Worrying about the things that don’t really matter.

You worry nonetheless.

“It’s pretty,” Tara murmurs in comfort when you’re staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, shirt lifted slightly, eyebrows pinched in dismay.

It’s not pretty.

It’s wiry and long and stems from the tip of your bellybutton down to your navel.

“It’s hideous.” You say, voice a little fraught.

It’s hideous and permanent.

You’ll never be able to wear a bikini again. You’ll never be able to take your shirt off again without being reminded of it.

Of her.

The woman who had tormented you for weeks.

The woman who you’d tormented for weeks. The woman whose son you’d taken from her. The woman who’d repaid you in mental scars to last a lifetime.

A belly scar to last a lifetime.

“It’s beautiful,” Tara says, pressing her lips to your shoulder, “It means you’re alive.”

She squeezes your hips, then lifts her own shirt.

“And it matches mine,” She says, eyes shimmering, “Matching knife wounds. Like soulmates.”

You snort.

Because of course Tara tries to make stab wounds romantic.

But to her credit - it works.

Your heart sings.

Soulmates.

Because that’s what you are.

“Who needs a wedding ring, right?” You say, biting your lip, insecurities suddenly fading.

Tara entwines your hands, lifts the back of your hand to her lips.

“You do,” Tara says, “And you’ll have one. Soon. I promise.”

You pull back.

“Not before-“

“College,” Tara says, rolling her eyes, “I know, babe.”

You press a lingering kiss to her cheek.

“I just don’t want to be one of those couples who rush into marriage and fall apart the moment they turn twenty-one.”

“That won’t be us,” Tara whines, and then she pouts, “Plenty of high school sweethearts get married right after high school.”

You groan.

“Tara, we talked about this already-“

“I know,” Tara says, voice hasty, “I’m just excited. I want you to be Mrs. Carpenter already.”

“Mrs Carpenter, huh?” You say, ignoring the fluttery rush that blooms through you at the thought, “And what if I want you to take my name?”

Tara cocks a brow and considers this.

“I don’t care, babe, I’ll change my name to garden gnome if you want, as long as I get to be your wife.” She says after a moment.

You smile. Squeeze her hand.

“You’d suit it,” You tease, “But Mrs and Mrs Carpenter has a nice ring to it.”

Tara tilts her head hopefully.

“So, maybe a high school wedding?” She asks, voice sly, “Mrs Carpenter would look good on your college application forms.”

You press a warm kiss to her lips.

“There’s no rush, babe,” You tell her, “And I need to save up. Get you a pretty ring.”

Tara squints.

“I’m proposing first,” She says immediately, “You promised, babe.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yes, you baby, I know.”

Tara tilts her head, seemingly satisfied.

You press a kiss to her lips. She’s cured your insecurity, for now.

But a new feeling gnaws at the bottom of your stomach.

Dread.

As you realize what comes next. You try to keep your voice light. Lighter than the heavy pit at the bottom of your stomach.

“Come on,” You say, trying and failing not to sound anxious, “It’s time for therapy.”

Dr Colmann is a five foot woman with long, flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

Her office is bland. Gray walls. Little decoration.

Like she wants your attention on her.

You’d met her first, a few weeks ago. Like a pterodactyl scouting out a potential nest for her baby.

Your situation is tricky - there’s only so much you can tell her.

And you’re no doctor - but even you know surely it’s impossible to diagnose an illness without knowing all the symptoms.

“I want to get something out of the way,” You’d said after a long moment, clearing your throat.

Dr Colmann had looked over at you, pen tilted and ready to write. With all the intimidation of a woman who was about to change your life.

“I’m aware my girlfriend is…” You had paused, trying to think of the right word, “A little… possessive.”

Dr Colmann said nothing.

“I know that, and that’s why we’re looking for help.” You’d bitten your lip, nervous, “And I’m also sure the first thing you’re going to tell me is to leave her. But that isn’t going to happen. I love her. And she loves me. We’re looking for coping methods. I want to help her feel secure. But I will not break up with her.”

Dr Colmann had just listened.

Her silence, if possible, made you all the more nervous.

“She’s not abusive or anything,” You’d clarified, hastily, “She doesn’t hurt me. She just gets… jealous.”

“And what does she do when she gets jealous?” She’d asked, finally breaking her silence.

“Um-“ You’d said, voice a little high. Memories flashed before you like nightmares and you’d been entirely grateful your thoughts couldn’t be seen.

“She lashes out. Not at me. At other people.”

Dr Colmann scribbled something in her notepad. Long, wiry, black inky marks.

You’d squinted, trying to make up the words, but she’d looked back at you before you’d had the chance.

“Do you have any examples?” Dr Colmann prompted.

You paused.

You had a fair few of those.

None of which you could disclose.

“Little things,” You said, “I used to play soccer. But I had to quit because Tara thought some of the girls might become interested in me.”

You chew your lip.

“And… I was just in the hospital. She got jealous of the nurse.”

“The nurse?”

“She tried to… give me a sponge bath and Tara freaked out.”

Dr Colman stared.

You swallowed. The words out loud somehow seemed even more ridiculous than they are.

“How did she freak out?” Dr Colmann asked.

“She tried to…” You swallowed again, “She didn’t want the nurse to touch me again. Not even to change my bandages.”

Dr Colmann pursed her lips.

“I told her that was stupid,” You’d said, hurriedly, “But when she gets like that, nothing can stop her. She calls it The Rage.”

Dr Colmann tilted her head.

“The Rage?”

You’d nodded.

“Yeah. It’s like… it’s like something takes over her. Like a demon or something. Something she can’t control.”

Dr Colmann had closed her notebook. She’d looked over at you, surveying. You’d blinked back, eyes wide, surely screaming help me, or something to that effect.

Then, she smiled.

“When can I meet her?”

You’re no less nervous the second time.

You greet Dr Colmann with a tight smile, draw Tara down into the seat next to you. Your knee bobs up and down, unable to quell the tide of anxiety rising deep within you.

Please, you think, a little desperate, please help her.

As Tara and Dr Colmann exchange pleasantries, you blink. Too many times.

Like you don’t know how this is going to go. The worst case scenario flashes before you: Dr Colmann in a body bag.

Tara in a jail cell.

You in a jail cell.

Never able to touch her, or hold her, or kiss her ever again.

You need therapy, the little voice in your head leers, judgmental, not being with Tara is worse than a woman dying?

“So, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, when you’re all seated. With all the cheeriness of someone who isn’t aware you’re imagining her as a corpse.

“Tell me about The Rage.”

An awkward silence settles over the three of you.

Tara shoots a hesitant look towards you.

You squeeze her hand and nod.

Then, she looks over to Dr Colmann.

“It’s an anger thing,” Tara mumbles, not looking her in the eye, “I’ve seen shrinks before, none of them can fix it.”

Dr Colmann tilts her head.

“And what did these other doctors do?” She asks, “Anger management classes? Medication?”

“Both,” Tara says, “Nothing ever worked.”

Dr Colmann hums.

“I’ve read through your file, Tara,” She says gently, “Fourteen different therapists across the state. That’s a lot of doctors. Especially for such a young girl.”

Tara assesses her. Her face is tight, guarded. Like she’s not sure if she can quite trust her.

Dr Colmann scribbles something in her notepad.

“Lots of kids have problems with anger,” Says Dr Colmann, “But anger is just a symptom, like any other emotion. From what YN has told me, anger isn’t the problem. Sharing is the problem.”

Tara frowns.

“Plenty of children have issues with sharing,” Dr Colmann continues, “Usually, it’s the parents who stamp it out. But not always. I see in your file your sister used to bear the brunt of most of these anger issues.”

Tara folds her arms.

“Not always,” She says.

“But most of the time,” Says Dr Colmann, pointedly. She squints, reading through her notes, “It says here you attacked your sister when you were four years old because she tried to play with one of your Barbie dolls. Then again, later that week for taking a bigger slice of pie.”

“Four year olds are allowed to have boundaries, aren’t they?” Says Tara, defensively, “That Barbie was mine.”

“And YN? She’s yours too?” Asks Dr Colmann, evenly.

Tara blinks.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tara says, diplomatically. The question is a trap, one she’s determined to avoid.

Dr Colmann tilts her head.

“And you don’t like when other people play with her? Is that right?”

Anger flickers through Tara’s features. You bite your lip, and squeeze her hand. Try to keep her grounded.

“I suppose not.” Says Tara, voice tight.

“YN told me about the nurse,” Dr Colmann says, “And the soccer team. You made her quit? Why?”

Tara looks over to you, a little helpless.

“I didn’t make her quit,” She says, slowly, like she’s being very careful with her words, “I just… suggested it. Strongly.”

Dr Colmann makes a noise of dissatisfaction.

Then returns to madly scribbling on her notepad.

Tara frowns again, looking self-conscious.

Dr Colmann looks up.

“And what if someone on the soccer team had been interested?” Dr Colmann asks, “What would you have done?”

You avert your gaze.

Kill them, is the answer.

It’s already happened.

More than once.

Tara shifts.

“I wouldn’t like it.” Tara says.

“No reasonable person would like that, Tara,” Dr Colmann prods, gently, “But what would you do?”

“I don’t know,” Says Tara, sounding aggravated, “Not let her see them anymore.”

“And do you think that’s an appropriate request?” Dr Colmann asks, “Do you really think you should have control over who your girlfriend associates with?”

Tara narrows her eyes.

“YN would do it for me,” She says, “We’re in a relationship. Relationships are about compromise.”

“That isn’t compromise, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, gently, “That’s you demanding she do something and her complying. Do you not trust her?”

Tara blinks.

She looks over to you, then back to Dr Colmann.

“Of course I do,” She says, voice soft, “It’s other people I don’t trust.”

“And what do you think these other people are going to do?” Dr Colmann asks.

“I don’t know.” Tara says, voice small, as if she’s never really thought that far ahead.

She looks like a little lost puppy. You want to wrap her in your arms and tell her you’ll never talk to anybody else again if that’s what she wants.

You resist.

Healthy wife, happy life, is what you tell yourself instead.

Dr Colmann’s face washes with sympathy.

“Jealousy is pointless, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, voice gentle, “Worrying is pointless. If YN is going to cheat on you, she’ll cheat on you. If she’s going to leave you, she’ll leave you. There’s nothing you - or The Rage can do about it.”

Tara blinks.

“I-“ She says, as if Dr Colmann has just spit in her face “What?”

Dr Colmann sits forward in her seat. Her notebook discarded.

“What you need to do - is trust. Your girlfriend loves you. Clearly. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”

Tara frowns.

“You’re afraid of losing her,” Dr Colman says, eyebrows knit, as if Tara is a particularly difficult puzzle she can’t quite get her head around, “But why? We’ve already established she loves you. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”

Tara blinks. You soothe a finger across the back of her hand. Resist the urge to press a kiss to her pretty forehead.

You let the doctor do the work.

“Have other people you loved left you, Tara?” Dr Colmann prods, gently.

Tara’s shoulders tense.

Dr Colmann waits a moment.

“Who?” She asks, "Your Mom? Your Dad?”

“Both.” Tara says, voice small, “They both left me.”

Your heart aches.

If you could - you’d sucker punch the two of them right now.

It isn’t an option. Instead - you grip her hand tight, offer her a small smile of encouragement as she speaks.

Tara swallows.

“My Dad tried to fix me,” Tara says, “For years. I was an angry kid. They could never figure out what was wrong with me. Eventually he just… gave up. He walked out on me and My Mom and my sister. Left us, just like that.”

“That must have been very traumatic,” Says Dr Colmann, “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” Says Tara, “My Mom never left. I mean, she did. She threw herself into work to cope with my Dad leaving. She started going on these long business trips. But she never officially left.”

Dr Colmann offers her a small smile, “And that’s why you get so jealous, is it Tara? You’re afraid YN will leave you? Like your Mom? Like your Dad?”

Tara hesitates.

She looks down at her hands.

“Yes.” She says, after a long moment.

“Baby,” You say, voice hushed. Tara squeezes your fingers.

Dr Colmann hums.

“That makes a lot of sense, Tara,” She says, her voice kind, “That gives us something to work with.”

She closes her notepad, offers the two of you a reassuring smile.

“Your anger - we can work through that. We can figure out some coping methods. But the main problem here isn’t anger, Tara. It’s trust. I know you said you trust YN but you’re still scared. Deep down you’re scared she’ll abandon you, just like your parents did. We need to work through that.”

“Is it something we can fix?” You ask, a tad desperate.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d promised Tara you’d never leave her.

And each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears the moment The Rage was invoked.

“We can try,” Dr Colmann says, “I can try. And it’ll take some hard work. But Tara, it’ll only work if you’re open to it. If you’re open to changing. Is that something you can do?”

Tara thinks for a moment.

And then she nods.

“Yeah,” She says, “I want to do it. I want to be different. For you, babe,”

She squeezes your hand. Thinks hard.

“And for me too."

You’re silent the entire way home.

Tara too.

She grips your hand so hard you think it might fall off at one point. It’s only when she pulls into the driveway, she speaks.

“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” She asks, chewing her lip as she looks over at you, “With all my… problems.”

“Never, baby,” You say immediately.

You lean over to kiss her cheek. She relaxes.

“I’m going to need a lot of therapy, aren’t I?” She says, sounding worried.

You press another warm kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be with you the whole way,” You assure, “I'm not going anywhere, Tara.”

You hesitate.

“You know I’m not like your Dad, right?” You say, “Or your Mom. I’m not going to leave you.”

Tara offers you a small smile.

“I know, babe,” She says, “At least in theory, I know.”

You press a kiss to her lips.

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you then,” you say, “Everyday. I love you. You’re stuck with me. I’ll say it until you believe me in theory and in practice.”

Tara rests her forehead against yours.

“Okay,” She says, “And keep saying it after that, okay babe?”

You kiss her.

“Deal.”

Your Mom’s still in the hospital.

Her leg had been amputated after the attack, and the procedure hadn’t been easy on her or your Dad. She’d come home after two weeks and then been admitted once more when the wound became infected.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask her now, chewing your lip, phone pressed to your ear.

Tara finishes up the dishes, setting down the washcloth to nestle in beside you, squeezing your hip comfortingly.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” She says, “Will you come and visit tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” You promise, “Sam is going to pick us up after school.”

“And everything’s alright at the house?” Enquires your Mom.

You were staying at Tara’s place until your parents came back home, a decision that was quickly agreed on, for once.

“Everything’s fine, Mom,” You assure, “Sam’s working now, but she’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

Your Mom hums.

“And Tara’s there with you, isn’t she?” She asks, sounding a little worried, “You’re not alone?”

“Tara’s here,” You say and Tara kisses the back of your neck, “You don’t have to worry, Mom.”

“Is that Tara?” Asks your Dad through the phone, a little gruff, “Can I speak with her?’

“Dad wants to speak to Tara, YN, bye for now,” Says your Mom, “See you tomorrow.”

You barely get out the goodbye before you hear your Dad’s voice once more.

“Tara?” He asks.

“It’s me Dad,” You say, and he makes a noise of vague disappointment.

You roll your eyes.

“We’re fine, thanks for asking.” You say.

“Yes, yes, I heard you speak with Mom,” He assures, “Put Tara on the phone.”

You hand off the phone to your girlfriend and pry yourself out of her grip, busying yourself with playing the leftovers into their containers.

“Hello, Sir,” Says Tara, the way you might speak to the President.

She bobs her head, eyebrows knitting.

“Yes, I did see the 49ers play.”

You huff.

Tara averts her gaze.

“Yes, I did think they played like a bunch of seven year old girls.”

You roll your eyes once more.

Tara’s newfound friendship with your Dad is better than the alternative, at least. You’d lived the alternative.

It hadn’t been much fun.

“We’re okay,” Tara promises, suddenly, “I have every door locked down, alarms set and cameras operating.”

Your Dad murmurs something down the line you can’t hear.

Tara smiles, and then reaches for your hand.

“I’m not letting her out of my sight, Sir, you don’t have to worry,” She says, “I won’t let anyone hurt her. I promise.”

She hangs up not long after.

You should be used to it by now, the flutter in the pit of your stomach every time she gets protective, or calls you hers, but you’re not.

Butterflies cascade through your belly, branching out to the tips of your fingertips where they settle. You curl in around Tara and press your lips to her neck.

She smells good. No perfume, just the tinge of her skin and her coconut body wash.

You squeeze her hips and nip your teeth against the nape of her neck.

“Oh.” Tara sighs as you slip your fingers into the waistband of your jeans. She leans back into your touch, titling your head to capture your lips.

“Really?” She asks, a little excited.

You laugh.

You’d not had sex in a few weeks, hardly in the mood. Your wound aches most days, and the rest are spent really remarkably unsexy, despite Tara’s constant reassurance you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

She turns in your arms, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Sam won’t be home for hours,” You murmur against her lips, “Just you and me. The way it should be.”

“Your stomach doesn’t hurt?” She asks, a little soft. Her eyes swim with concern, “We can just watch a movie, if you want?”

You shake your head.

She looks good. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. No makeup, her spill of freckles poignant, her pretty lips pouty and red and kissable.

“I want you, baby,” You murmur, nuzzling your nose to the side of her face, “Do you want me too?”

You don’t have to wait long for a response.

She presses a searing kiss to your lips.

“Do you even have to ask?” She says, biting her lip.

“No,” You smile, “But I want to hear you say it anyway.”

“I want you,” She says, immediately. She’s excited again, you can tell by the way her eyes flicker, “I want you all the time.”

“Come take me then,” You murmur against her mouth.

She doesn’t have to be told twice.

She leads you up the staircase, walking backwards. Her mouth fused to yours, her careful hands roaming every span of skin she can get her hands on.

She helps you onto the bed, far gentler than her usual gig of wild hands and wild lips. Instead, this time she touches you as if you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

You make an annoyed murmur as she pulls your jeans down your legs. It feels like an age, the way she softly untangles the button and the zipper. Her touch is light, so un-Tara.

When she finally pulls your legs from your jeans, you almost cry out of frustration.

“Babe, I’m not going to break.” You tell her, but it falls on deaf ears.

She’s pressing her lips to your thigh, tiny, gentle touches as she pulls your underwear down your legs at a pain-stakingly slow pace.

“Don’t rush me, babe,” She says as you reach down to help her, “And lie back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I feel fine,” You say, tilting up to meet her kiss, “Please hurt me.”

Tara huffs, drawing back slightly.

“It’s not fair to say things like that when you know I can’t.” She pouts, “The things I want to do to you will almost certainly rip your stitches.”

Arousal coils deep in your belly.

Then annoyance.

“Now who's not being fair?” It’s your turn to pout.

Tara nudges her lips to your neck.

“I’m going to make love to you, baby-girl,” She promises, her eyes dark, “That’s more than fair.”

You tilt your head up and press a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Besides. If I rip your stitches I think your Dad will have something to say.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“Let’s not talk about my Dad when we’re getting naked, babe,” You suggest.

She hums in agreement.

And then you reach for her shirt.

“Off.”

If she’s going to spend the entire evening getting your underwear down your legs, the least she can do is give you something to look at, you reason.

Your touch is impatient.

You pry off her jeans like there’s a time limit. Strip her of her shirt and her bra until she’s hovering naked above you, making your mouth water.

And suddenly, what little patience you had left is gone.

You rise up, starling her.

“Babe-“ She protests, but you can’t be reasoned with.

You tilt her around, until she’s lying back on the mattress, nudging her bare legs apart with your thighs.

“Too slow, my turn.” You murmur.

Your lips are hungry.

You kiss her, fierce, groaning slightly as your hands get to work. They work down the curve of her hips, to her thighs. You squeeze her, a little rough, and then move your hands to take her nipples between your fingers.

She gasps, her hips involuntarily jerking up towards yours. You detangle yourself from her lips, leaning down to press hot kisses against her neck.

She threads her fingers through your hair, tugging, tugging, as she moves against you. She’s still holding back, being careful not to touch your stomach.

You can tell by the way she’s groaning it’s hard for her.

And so you make it easy.

Your lips move down from her neck to her breasts. You circle each nipple once, then twice, before you’re taking her in your mouth, curling your arms around each of her thighs.

“Baby,” Tara murmurs, “Baby, your stomach-“

You release her nipple with a wet pop and a frown.

“I’m fine, babe.” You say, and it’s true.

It aches, slightly, but it always does nowadays. No matter what you’re doing.

And if it’s her you’re doing, at least the ache is dampened by the forest fire of arousal surging through your veins.

You return to your pilgrimage down her body.

Your lips graze her belly-button, your tongue slips down over the jut of her hips to the crest of her thighs.

She sighs, seemingly satisfied as you slip down further. Moving your body to settle nicely in between her legs.

Then, she tilts her head up, biting her lip.

Her eyes are hesitant, though encompassed with want.

“Tell me if it hurts,” She says, “Tell me and we can stop. Or…re-adjust.”

You nod, impatient.

“Alright babe, I will,” You say, raising an eyebrow, “Can I go down on you now?”

Her cheeks flush red with arousal.

“Please.” She whispers.

She’s beautiful, as ever.

You press your lips against the soft skin of her inner thighs, grazing your lips just gently. You use your tongue to work your way inwards.

Your breath catches in your throat the moment you taste her. Wet, syrupy, bittersweet goodness.

You lick it up, greedy for more. You press your lips to her folds, use your hands to spread her open for you. You lose control of your tongue.

One minute you’re ready to tease, the next, you’ve worked yourself up too much.

Your tongue moves hot across her folds and then down to her entrance. Your top lip brushes her clit and she sings.

A low moan that vibrates through the room.

A moan that indicates it’s been far too long since you’ve touched her like this.

You apologize with your mouth.

Low strokes of your tongue at her entrance. The quiet murmur of your own moan as your tongue moves up to circle her clit.

Lazy, slow, movements.

Then fast.

Like you’re changing your own mind too quickly.

You settle for writing words with your tongue.

babygirl, is what you spell out against her clit.

Your name. Her name. You connect them with a heart.

And then: mine.

Tara lets out a quiet moan as you take her clit between your lips. Sucking gently until her thighs are gripping like iron bars around the side of your head and her nails against your scalp bruise.

You give up on using the alphabet.

You slip two fingers inside her, sighing as she encases you. She’s tight and wet and begging for more.

You give it to her.

Curl your fingers up in just the right way. Lap your tongue over her clit just the way she likes.

And then she’s gasping as she tightens around you. She cries your name in a breathy moan as she cums hard around your fingers and mouth.

It’s always over too quickly, you think briefly as you reluctantly slip out of her. You need to learn patience. You need to learn how to tease.

But there’s something about her, and you don’t know how she does it. You just have to give her what she wants.

She lets out a happy sigh as you climb up her body and press your lips to her forehead.

She’s still a moment, but you know better. She recovers quickly.

In less than a minute she’s shifting.

You groan as your back hits the mattress.

Her hands slip down to your thighs, gripping you like she has an agenda. And she does. You know it by heart.

First, the gentle touch of her lips against your neck.

Then she’s sliding your underwear down your legs.

She kisses your lips, slips her tongue into your mouth for only a moment. And then she’s trailing kisses down your body.

Your chest. Your breasts.

She pays special attention to your nipples. Her eyes locking with yours as she sucks, ever so gently.

Your body feels hot.

You grip her face, holding her in place.

And then she’s nudging out of your grip, dipping down to press her lips to your navel.

She doesn’t kiss your scar, but you can tell she wants to.

She looks up at you, eyes wide and vulnerable as she squeezes your hips.

“You’re beautiful.” She murmurs. She ducks down and presses a kiss to the top of your inner thigh, “You’re perfect. My perfect girl.”

“Tara,” You say, voice a little gravelly, “Baby, please.”

She doesn’t make you wait.

One moment she’s pressing her lips to your thigh. The next, she’s dipping down between your legs. You lean back onto the pillows with a sigh.

Her lips graze.

She kisses your inner thigh.

Drags her tongue over your entrance and you gasp.

Then, her lips are on your clit.

You moan as she snakes a hand around your waist. The other slips between your legs. She teases for only a moment before she’s slipping her fingers inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

It’s not as though you’re not ready for it.

You’re so wet you’d give her a snorkel if she wasn’t such an experienced sailor.

But she rides your high seas like it’s her full time job.

Lips on your clit, fingers working in and out. She squeezes your hip with her free hand. Her talented mouth is like fire. Dancing around just where you need it most.

You close your eyes and let out a low moan.

She’s being careful.

Gentle.

Loving you like she doesn’t want to hurt you.

You take back the impatience. You take back the need for more, more, more.

Your sweet, loving girlfriend is all you need.

Gentle mouth. Careful tongue.

Her between your legs, working you into oblivion like sex is just a vehicle to express how deeply she loves you.

“Tara.”

You cum with her name on your lips. Her mouth fused around your lips. You cum feeling safe and wanted and needed.

And when she’s done, she climbs back up your body and presses the softest kiss to your lips.

Nestles herself with her head in your chest. Right next to your heartbeat.

Where she should be.

You close your eyes once more.

Thread your fingers through her hair. Press the softest of kisses to her forehead.

And then she looks up at you, her pretty brown eyes shimmering.

“Love you.” She murmurs. She punctuates her words with a kiss.

Your chest is heaving. You allow yourself the moment. Body thrumming with your orgasm, the love of your life pressed tight to your side.

Tara curls into you. She waits a moment, then looks over at you,

“I’m going to be better for you,” She murmurs, “I’ve put you through hell, baby, and I know that. But it all ends now.”

You frown.

“I’m in heaven with you, no matter what you’ve done,” You say, after a quiet moment, “After what we’ve both done. Right or wrong, I love you. And you love me. And that’s all that matters.”

Tara tilts her head to yours.

She takes your lips in a long, searing kiss.

She says what she can’t with words.

You say it too.

And when you pull back, you know she understands.

She’s yours.

And you are undeniably, irrefutably, entirely:

All hers.

#all hers #tara carpenter #scream v #scream vi #jenna ortega #ghostface!tara #mine #fanfic #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x yn

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fanfics-and-love · 1 year

Text

Reclaiming a Legacy

Ghostface!Amber Freeman x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood

Word count: 4k words

Summary: You knew someone was behind the new ghostface kills, but you could have never guessed it was your girlfriend, and that the reason behind everything was you, and your past

Request: Can you write something with ghost face amber x reader. ask

A/N: I wanted to give my girl Amber a better motive bc she deserves it✨

masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a bit of a bitch sometimes, but never a murderer. Sure, she was rude and probably lacked common decency, but when you two were alone, she was kind and sweet.

There was no way she could be ghostface.

And that was what you told Mindy, after the third time that day in which she had questioned you about Amber.

“Mindy,” you said, exasperated. “I love you. I really do, but if you keep insinuating my girlfriend is a killer I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m not,” Mindy said, in a tone that told you she was actually aiming at that, toeing the question but not saying it out loud. “I’m just saying, out of all of us…”

“It can also be the nerd obsessed with horror movies who’s related to one of the legacies,” you shot back. “Or the big sister that has suddenly come back after years of no contact. It can be anyone.”

“Sure thing,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes. “But if anyone would want to kill Wes…”

“No one would want to kill Wes,” you said, slamming shut your locker. “He was a good kid. No one held grudges against him. He was chosen because life isn’t fucking fair.”

You cleared your throat when you noticed kids around the hall staring at you. Great, you were going around school screaming about the unfairness of life; as if you needed people to suspect you and your group of friends more.

“Okay. Sorry,” Mindy said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You almost shook it off, still pissed off at her, but with everything that was going on you weren’t sure who could be the next victim, so instead you hugged her.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, pulling away. “It’s just— everything is too stressful. I can’t stand it.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just want to discover who the fucker is so we can all be safe.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m gonna hang out with Amber and help her with the party, so I’ll see you later. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” she kissed your cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“Stop fucking in my couch, horny fuckers,” Amber said, pushing two kids away from said couch.

The party was in full swing, almost everyone from school within Amber’s house walls. You thought of Wes, and how he’d take people remembering him with a party. He would have probably hated it, but it had been Amber’s idea, and it was hard to convince her not to do something once she had put her mind to it.

“Hey,” you said, glad you had finally found your girlfriend. It was hard to miss her, considering her attitude filled every room she was in, but parties like the ones she threw were so overwhelming even she could easily disappear in the crowd.

“There you are,” Amber smiled, shortening the distance between the two of you. She rested the red cup in her hand on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around you, nose caressing your neck. “Mm… I’ve missed you,” she said, pulling away to give you a kiss.

“You just saw me,” you giggled, standing on your tiptoes to give her another kiss. She smiled, pulling you even closer to kiss your cheek.

“What? Can’t I miss my girlfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course you can,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. She rested her head on your neck, kissing it softly. “What got you so happy?”

“I’m throwing a party and I have you in my arms,” Amber said, pulling away. There was a glee in her eyes that made your bones chill. “What else could I want?”

“A lot, actually,” you said. Despite how close you two were, it was still somewhat hard to hear her over the music coming from the kitchen. “A million dollars, three hundred puppies, world peace…”

“Nah,” she said, smirking. “I still prefer you.”

You blushed at that, kissing her again. “You dork.”

“A dork you love making out with.”

“That I do,” you smiled, tangling your hands into Amber’s hair as she put her lips on yours.

“You’re so hot,” she said, kissing your jaw. You moaned, tilting your head to the side to give her more space. “Fuck. I love you, baby,” she said. Her voice was sweet and velvety, just like how it was when she talked with you on the phone. You loved these moments where she was vulnerable; it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you too,” you said. Amber was kissing your neck again, and you tightened your hold on her hair when she began to suck on your neck.

“You do?” She asked, pulling away. You were a little taken back by the sudden movement. “You love me?”

“Wha— of course I do,” you said, looking into her eyes. There was something there, swimming with the glee in the brown waves of her irises, something that made you want to run away from her arms. Instead, you pulled her closer. “I love you.”

“Even if I was the killer?” You tensed, trying to step away from her. She shook her head, dragging your body into hers. “Would you?”

“What the fuck, Amber?” You asked. Mindy’s voice came into the front of your mind; Do you think your girlfriend is capable of killing someone? “Are you for real?”

“Of course not,” Amber said, kissing your forehead. She sighed in anger when she noticed you were still tense. “Relax, babe. I’m just fucking with you.”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Am,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Jesus,” she said, stroking your back. “Don’t be such a bitch. I was just playing.”

“Let’s just drop the subject, alright?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Amber said. She was swaying you softly, and the motion was helping lower your frantic heartbeat. “Would you?”

“Uh?” You raised your head.

“Would you still love me if I was the killer?”

“Fucking hell, Amber.”

“Would you?” She repeated. You remembered those random questions she would sometimes ask, out of the blue— would you still love me if I was a worm? Would you still love me if I took shits the size of cars? Would you stay with me if I lost all my teeth?

But that question… it felt different somehow. Like a test you weren’t even aware you were taking.

Would you still love her if she was ghostface?

“Of course I would still love you,” you said, hoping it was all just one of those times she would ask stupid questions.

She smiled, all perfectly lined white teeth popping out in glee. You were taken aback by her happiness, and even more when she pulled you into a passionate kiss. It left you breathless. When she moved away, you could still see the happiness dancing in her face. She looked like a kid that had gotten away with stealing a cookie from the kitchen while their parents weren’t watching.

“Oh, look,” she said, moving away from you. You were momentarily confused at the loss of her warmth. “Tara is here.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

The phrase “Welcome to act three” changed your life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought as you hid from your girlfriend, Liv’s blood still fresh in your face. You had plans for the future, in which you moved into the city with Amber, and graduated college, and then got a nice job and got married. You couldn’t have planned for this. Who would?

Amber was ghostface. And you had been too blind to see the truth. If you made it out alive, you knew Mindy would never shut up about it.

How could you have been so goddamn stupid?

“Y/N.”

You turned to your side, seeing Sam kneeling beside the sofa, hiding away from Amber as she dragged someone into the kitchen. Sam raised her hand and gestured for you to go with her, and you did without even thinking. When you reached the older girl, you grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes.

“Fucking hell,” you said. You couldn’t even blink; it felt like your eyelashes had been glued to your face.

“Sh,” Sam whispered, moving closer. You could see her hands were shaking as she looked around. A gunshot was heard, followed by a ringing so deafening you closed your eyes as you covered your ears, cradling your face in your hands. “Fuck.”

“She killed someone else,” you said, still trying to wrap your mind around how she meant ghostface and also Amber.

“Ri—” Sam took a deep breath. “Richie. I— I heard his voice right before— before she—”

“Fuck,” you said. “Sam…”

“Y/N,” Amber called from the kitchen in a singsong voice. “Baby, where are you?”

Sam put her hand over your lips, pulling you closer into the sofa, as if it would magically cover the two of you. You saw Amber enter the living room, wearing the infamous ghostface robe. A chill went down your body at the sight of the blood on her face.

“Baby—”

Tara appeared then, hitting Amber with one of her crutches. Sam went quick into action, getting up and kicking away the gun that had fallen on the ground.

“Bitch,” Amber said, grabbing a handful of Tara’s jacket and pushing her away. You ran towards the girl, helping her sit up. Tara had fallen face first, and it looked like she had broken her nose, judging by the blood running down her chin.

“Fuck you,” Sam said, grabbing Amber and throwing her to the ground. She eyed the gun the same time Amber did, but you knew Sam was cursed; she had pushed Amber right into where the gun was.

“Not so fast, bitch,” Amber said, gun in hand. Sam moved to stand in front of Tara, and all you could do was stare at your girlfriend. “Baby,” she said, turning to look at you. “Come here.”

“Am—”

“Come here,” she repeated, voice sweet. You could see her finger, pressing harder onto the gun’s trigger. If you didn’t move fast, she was going to shoot Sam.

“Okay,” you said, raising your hands. You walked towards Amber, allowing her to grab your arm and turn you around, pushing you into her body.

“Ah. Much better,” she smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now we just have to wait for the bitch to show up. I’m guessing she’s close, right, Samantha?”

You saw Sam’s hand hold tighter on her phone. “How do you know about Sidney?”

“Oh, honey,” she laughed. “If Sidney is anything, it is predictable. I’m guessing she has already figured out whose house is this, and is coming with Gale to save the day, as always.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Tara said. Blood was still dripping from her face, and you were thankful when Sam held her; she looked like she was going to pass out.

“Haven’t you heard, Tara?” Amber asked. She was pushing you away from them and towards the stairs, her grip on your shoulders so hard you knew it would bruise. “We all go a little mad sometimes.”

“Fuck you,” Tara said. You admired her— she could barely stand still yet she was facing off a killer with a gun in hand; you, instead, did nothing as she manhandled you around the house. If only you could do something to stop her…

“Fuck me?” Amber laughed. “You little shit. I kept you alive and this is how you repay me?”

“Should’ve killed me,” Tara said. The girl looked terrifying, with a bloody mouth and eyes opened wide.

“Okay,” Amber said, aiming the gun towards Tara. You watched as her finger pulled the trigger, and didn’t think twice before slamming your body against her, pushing her into the ground. The bullet hit the ceiling instead of Tara’s forehead. “What the fuck?”

“Run!” Sam said, rushing towards your side to pull you up. With your help, she carried Tara upstairs, where you hid in one of the guest rooms.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. You were leaning against the door, breathing fast. “I can’t believe— fuck.”

“How are you?” Sam asked, always the protector.

“How am I? Look at Tara. I think she’s got a concussion.” Sam turned around to see her sister lying on the bed. She was resting on the side, and even though her nose had stopped bleeding, she still looked too out of it. “We should hide her,” you said.

“What?”

“We can’t stay here,” you said. You could hear the front door opening, and Amber screaming. What the hell was she doing? “She’s going to come looking for us. Tara can barely move. She needs to stay somewhere hidden.”

“She needs a fucking hospital,” Sam said, harshly.

“Yeah, but she can’t really get help until we stop Amber. She might kill the people in the ambulance.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded, swallowing hard as she looked at her sister. Running a hand through her hair, she looked around. Soon enough, your eyes met. “The closet,” you said at the same time.

You heard gunshots, followed by a door being slammed shut. You looked at Sam, and took a deep breath. “Take care of Tara.” You ran downstairs, closing the guest room’s door behind you. You hoped Sidney and Gale were okay, and that everything was over. Instead, someone dressed in a ghostface costume greeted you on the last step, making you almost fall.

“Hello, Y/N,” ghostface said. He was using a voice changer. “Fancy seeing you here.” Ghostface pushed at your legs, making you trip. When the person grabbed you by the waist and pushed into their chest, you knew immediately who it was.

“Amber,” you said. You felt tears in your eyes as you walked into the kitchen. Richie —holy shit, Richie was the other ghostface— was holding down Sidney. When he saw her, he threw her another piece of rope.

“Tie her up and go find Samantha,” Amber said. Without even looking at you, she tied your hands together.

“I’m fucking trying,” Richie said. The rope in his hand was being wrapped around Sidney’s hands. What the fuck were they doing?

“Jesus, you’re useless,” Amber said, taking off her mask. “I’ll fucking do it. Go find that bitch before she ruins everything.” Richie nodded, but still stayed until Sidney’s hands were tied. Only then did he leave, pushing the woman into Gale’s body. You followed shortly after, falling into the two injured girls.

“You won’t win,” Sidney said. You were momentarily surprised by her calmness, but of course, she was Sidney Prescott; she had probably gone through worse at the hands of ghostface and survived to tell the tale; this was probably a normal Tuesday night for her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amber said, raising her gun.

“You never win,” she went on. “You think you do, then you make some mistake and it all goes to shit. I’ve seen it happen before, four times. It’s better if you just untie us and let us call the police.”

“I’m gonna win,” Amber said, moving closer to her. “I’m going to fucking win, okay?”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Gale spoke. It petrified you how scared she sounded. Was this really the way you died? “You could be the first ghostface that doesn’t die. I could write about you.”

“And what? Call me the bitch that killed your ex-husband while I rot in prison?” Amber laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You really want your girlfriend to see you die?” Gale asked. You were taken aback by her words. Of course she would go for manipulation, she was a writer after all. It surprised you when you saw Amber hesitate, lowering her gun slightly as she looked at you with dark brown eyes.

“I’m doing this for her,” she smiled then, all doubt cleared from her face.

“Ah, so that’s your motive,” Sidney said, sounding annoyed. “Love. I think that’s a new one.”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Amber said, aiming the gun back at Sidney.

“Here she is,” Richie said in a singing voice. You heard struggles, and then he entered the kitchen, dragging Sam with him.

“Perfect,” Amber said. “What about Tara?”

“Passed out in the bed,” Richie said. Sam groaned in pain as she was pushed to the floor in front of you. “Tied her up and locked the door. Caught this one,” he kicked Sam on the stomach “trying to hide her.”

“Aw,” Amber said, in a mocking soft voice. “Aren’t you the perfect sister?” Richie laughed at her words, stepping away from Sam.

“Time for the big finale,” Richie said.

“Tara is tied up, then, right?” Amber asked. Richie nodded, a gleeful look on his face. “And Chad is gone too?”

“A bullet between the eyes,” Richie laughed gleefully.

“Good,” Amber said. The next second, she shot Richie in the head. All four of you stared in shock. Your ears ringed, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the loud gunshot or the sight in front of you. Richie fell to the ground, blood seeping out of his head and mouth. You almost threw up at the sight of his gray matter laying on the ground. “Now, the real finale,” Amber smiled, turning back to you. “Who wants to die first? Uh?”

“Me,” you said, sitting up straighter. It was about time you were the brave one.

“Oh, baby,” Amber said, chuckling softly. “No. No, you’re not going to die. You and I are going to survive, and we’re gonna be the final girls.”

“Jesus,” Gale said. “Are you out of your mind? All of this for… for what? To be the new Romeo and Juliet?”

“Romeo and Juliet die at the end, you dumb bitch,” Amber said. “No. This is about Samantha.”

“My father,” Sam said. Even though you couldn’t fully see her, the sadness was clear in her eyes. It wasn’t fair, all the guilt she would carry with her if she made it out alive.

“Yes,” Amber nodded. “Your father, your grandma… you have a pretty crazy family, Samantha. Once this is over, all we have to tell the cops is that you wanted to live up your father’s legacy. Once they took a look at your pills and therapist notes, there’ll be no questions about who’s the killer.”

“There’s always two ghostfaces,” Gale said.

“And the other one is right there,” Amber pointed at Richie’s body. “You convinced your boyfriend to kill those people as an act of love, and he did. Good thing I was there to stop you before you killed Y/N.”

Sidney laughed, looking at Amber with almost pity in her face. “And why would Y/N be Sam’s target? Just because? For this to work, it’d have to be Tara.”

“No, no,” Amber said, shaking her head. “You’re not taking everything into consideration.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Gale said. “You think you can outsmart us?”

“I’ve already done it,” Amber said. “Because I know something you don’t. Something that explains everything,” she shook her head, smiling. She looked crazed.

“Jesus,” Sidney said. “You’re even worse than Jill. Stop with the dramatics.”

“Y/N is Stu Macher’s daughter.”

“What?” Gale asked, looking at you. You felt as confused as she did.

“Amber, what the fuck are you talking about?” You asked.

“Stu is—”

“In an asylum,” Amber said. Something shifted in Sidney’s face, something that told you she already knew. “Locked up for years. I know what you’re gonna say,” she chuckled. “How could he have a daughter?” Amber kneeled down beside Sidney. “That’s what I told myself for months when I saw the papers. I thought, “but how? It’s not possible”, until I realized that it could be pretty easy to explain since Y/N’s mom is a psychologist.”

“What is with people in this town and leaving important documents just laying around?” You murmured.

“You can’t be serious,” Sidney said, interrupting you. “How…?”

“Why do you think she got fired?” Amber looked at you. “For sleeping with a patient. With Stu. C’mon, Sidney, I thought by now you were used to secret family members appearing out of nowhere.”

“So that’s it?” Gale asked. “You find some papers and you decide to start killing people?”

“No!” Amber said. You flinched at the scream. “No. Of course not. I had to check everything. This was too big to just say unless I knew for sure. So I investigated, and once I was sure, I searched for a partner online. Someone who would appreciate this plot. Someone who would know how important Stu Macher being alive truly was,” she eyed Richie, on the ground with blood slowly escaping his body.

“Plot? This isn’t a fucking movie!” Gale said.

“It will be, one day. The two daughters of the first Woodsboro massacre killers, facing off each other. Isn’t it perfect?” Amber turned to look at Sam. “Spoiler alert, you lose.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Sidney said. “You know the danger you’re putting her in? People are going to chase her like they will with Sam.”

“But Sam doesn’t have me,” Amber said. “I’m always going to be there to protect Y/N. Always.”

“Not if I kill you,” Gale said. Within a second, she was up, taking advantage of the surprise movement to throw Amber to the ground. Sidney got up next, grabbing a knife to cut the rope, and Sam, to your surprise, ran out of the kitchen and upstairs. You watched everything unfold before your eyes landed on the gun that had once again fallen.

“Stop!” You screamed, gun in hand as you pointed it at the three women.

Amber had Gale by the hair and Sidney had the knife in her hand, raised to stab Amber in the chest.

“Baby,” Amber said, pushing Gale into Sidney’s body. “Lower the gun.”

“Y/N,” it was Sidney this time, looking at you hesitantly. As if you were going to shoot her. Were you? “Don’t listen to Amber. You can’t be sure.”

“I would never lie to her,” Amber said. She turned her face to look at you. “You know I wouldn’t. You know it, baby. I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”

Your hands shook, but you didn’t lower the gun.

“I love you,” Amber said, in that soft voice you only heard late at night, head pressed on her neck while she ran her hands through your hair. “I’ve done this for you, so you could be the new Sidney— so you wouldn’t have to live under the shadow of Samantha.”

“Am…”

“She’s lying,” Gale said. “Once this is over, the moment you do something she doesn’t like you’ll be next.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Amber said through gritted teeth, grabbing Gale by the shirt. “I’ve done nothing but take care of her.”

You knew your time was running out. Sam had probably opened the guest room upstairs already, and once she was done checking in on Tara, she would come back, more than likely with a weapon. She would be ready to kill Amber, and Sidney and Gale will help her.

Did you want them to kill her? Was it an honor reserved just for you?

Were you going to kill everyone but Amber, and save her?

You weren’t sure, not as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready for your next move. Still, you pulled the trigger and hoped to god you had made the right choice.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #scream franchise #scream 5 #scream v #ghostface #ghostface!amber freeman #ghostface!amber #ghostface!amber x reader #mikey madison #tara carpenter #sidney prescott #sam carpenter #Reclaiming a Legacy

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blackwolfstabs · 29 days

Note

heh, how would Samantha react when reader is rubbing her arms, feeling her biceps? Saying “babe, you really need to wear tank tops more often”

hmmm... i think this answer would sound better written, so i hope you take this:

WHAT A GIRL LIKE ME WOULD DO FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOU

sam carpenter x g!n reader ficlet

Sam bowed against the countertop, her elbows holding herself steady while her folded hands pressed against the back of her head. Her upper body burned with the amount of exertion she gave during her workout. A complete 45-minute upper body workout didn't just leave her muscles burning... it left them burnt out.

Luckily, you took it upon yourself to help her cool-down. Your way, of course, in which you let your hands slide up and down the upper half of her arm to give her a post-workout massage. You applied the perfect amount of pressure to her biceps, feeling the muscles slide beneath her skin in sync with your pattern. It was your pleasure to do this, because the sight of her in a tank top always made you unable to keep from staring. It was a win-win, the smile on your face growing as Sam gave a gratified groan.

You chuckled as she dropped her hands from her head and went limp against the countertop. "Babe, you really need to wear tank tops more often," you suggested as you travelled down her arm again, generous with the gentle squeezes you gave.

A delighted hum answered your actions, before actual words did your comment. "So, you can do this more often?"

"Hey, don't act like you're not enjoying it," you laughed. "But, yes, I'd be more than happy to do this a lot more, and not just after a workout." You slid your hands all the way down to hold hers and bowed to place a kiss on her bare shoulder. "It's a win-win."

She gave an amused scoff, lifting herself from the counter to turn around and face you. "And then, a few weeks later, you'll be suggesting I go shirtless more often, right?"

A tempting grin pulled at your lips and you raised an eyebrow, "So, now you can see the future?"

She shrugged. "Or I'm a mind-reader," was her counter with the same amount of playfulness.

"What am I thinking right now, then?"

She didn't hesitate. "I love you."

And she was right.

───────────────────────────

i hope you enjoyed this, anon!

thank you for asking! 🩶

#parkerwrites #ask #ask box #anonymous #anon ask #thanks anon!#scream #scream v #scream vi #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x g!n reader #ficlet #blackwolfstabs

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xiihyunn · 10 months

Text

My Confession (18+)

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

warning: christian hypocrisy, religious rebellion, semi-public sex, semi-exhibition, crying, choking, toys, ropes, overstimulation, mommy kink, fingering, spanking, biting/marking, spitting, strap-on, slapping, rough sex, pee, and vibrator.

ⓘ slow burn

summary: — wherein before you take your vows to officially become a nun, you need to confess all your sins to the priest. but what happens if all your sins were unforgivable?

> masterlist

word count: 6.3k

a/n: it might be a bit bad tbh. overall this was the 1st smut that i wrote, and send me some smut requests.

oh btw, men and minors get the fuck out of my blog. ty

Jenna's POV

It was around 11 pm when I finally arrived at my destination, a small village with only at least 2 thousand population max. I got off my motorcycle and tied up my hair, rolled up my sleeves, and wore the crucifix necklace I had.

I grabbed my suitcase and began walking to a certain house, though this area was foreign to me, I was called multiple times because of a demon possessing a boy.

I was the 1st female exorcist in the church, since the Vatican was obviously misogynistic. They argued whether or not to make me an exorcist or just a demonologist with psychic abilities, in the end, the ministers couldn't deny that my abilities were way beyond what they already had.

Making me an exorcist was the best decision they could make. Hence they didn't regret how I successfully exorcized nearly 167 demons in a span of 5 years.

But that doesn't mean I get to get away with everything I'll be doing, even though I was heavily favored by the church herself.

"That's a beautiful pig." I said to a guy I paid to bring it. He chuckled and drank a bottle of beer, "Only the best, Father." he groggily said.

I was a female yes, but the ministers ordered me to be addressed as Father Ortega, to... continue the culture.

I opened the door to a small house, only one light was on and the rest of the light I saw was from the lit candles. The room felt uneasy and quiet.

"This way, Father." A fellow priest said, leading me to the dining room where a small girl, her mom, and her dad were sitting and looking at me. I placed my suitcase on the table nearby and the priest filled me in on what happened to the possessed boy.

"The boy is showing all the classical signs of possession, Father Ortega," the priest said, panicking and beads of sweat dripping down his face. "Has the family consulted a doctor?" I asked, looking at the people at the dining table.

"Many, many doctors." The priest sounded persistent that this was much more serious than we expected. "What are the signs of possession?" I said as I grabbed his shoulder and looked at him. "He converses in English, Father." He was shaking and before I could answer, a noise was heard on the door near the dining room.

I looked at the door, "Has he spoken English before?" I asked, not breaking my gaze on the door. "Never. Not even before." he said. "Do they own a television?" I asked. "Y-yes, I believe so." He stuttered as he looked around.

I breathed out and patted his shoulder, "Okay, thank you." He nodded at me and I went over to the girl sitting on the chair, and drawing something on the table. "Hey there, do you mind telling me what are you drawing?" I looked over at her shoulder trying to look at the picture.

"A bird," The kid said, I hummed and sat next to her. "Really? That's good, kid." I grabbed the match laying on the table, and lit it. "I have a very important job for you," I lit up the candle in front of her.

She looked at me and nodded slowly, "Do you know 'Our Father' ?" I asked. "Yes Father," She replied. "Good." As I blow out the burning match. "You can help your brother, and repeat 'Our Father, over and over. Don't get distracted. Relentless. Understood?" I said as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiled faintly, "Yes, Father."

"Good." Then we proceed to recite it together.

After we were done, I told the priest to come over. "Bring me the pig." I told him. He nodded fastly and left the house, then screaming from the door followed.

—

I opened the door, and was greeted by a young man tied up to his bed, grunting, screaming, and growling all at once. His eyes were red and so was the flesh near them.

He was filled with sweat and was moving around, trying to break free from the ropes. I made the sign of the cross, then placed my suitcase on the desk. I was opening it when he suddenly spoke.

"I am Legion,"

And clicking sounds were heard from his mouth. I looked at him weirdly.

"What is this? The Last of Us?" I thought to myself.

"I am Satan," He said again as his eyes rolled back to his head.

"I am foul-mouthed Behemoth."

I smirked at this phase and sat on the chair near him, I wiped the Totem of the Vatican symbol using my shirt and faced him.

"It's difficult to believe." I said blatantly. His head stood up in an instant and looked at me, looking mad.

"You doubt me?"

"If you are Satan, what is my name?" I asked the demon. He sat up and tried to get near my face, but the ropes were keeping him in place.

He growled at me, "I won't say shit to a dickless whore." He laughed while looking into my eyes. "I know what you are Sister, you and me, we're the same."

Tugging his hands from time to time, he never stopped looking at me. "Foul-mouthed indeed." I raised both of my brows at him. "Describe hell," I challenged him.

He laughed maniacally, throwing his head up, and continued laughing. He stopped abruptly, snapped his head back looked at me, and said, "You will find out soon eno-"

"Are you avoiding my question?" I stopped him, he lunged at me, or at least tried to.

"YOU MOCK ME!?"

His voice was disoriented and rough. Before he could say anything more, I showed him my Totem.

He went back for a bit and his face scrunched in fear. He stared at it intensely as I moved the Totem side by side, and his eyes followed it.

"Answer me, Satan." I ordered him. "Why possess this boy? Why not someone more influential?" I stared at him. He tilted his neck at a 90-degree angle, making a snapping noise.

He kept moving his head and said slowly,

"I can possess anyone I choose." Desperate for me to believe him, he was acting like a kid who was telling his mom that he had superpowers.

I lowered the Totem down and hummed then nodded sarcastically.

Just then I heard an oink behind me, "Could you possess Father Gianni?" I asked him in a questionable tone. I felt the priest nervously looking at me, scared that he'll get possessed if the demon wanted to, and me egging the demon on was making him shit his pants.

"ANYONE! ANYTHING!"

He screamed, and his spit was flying on the bed sheets. I shook my head while chuckling, "That is not the case, I do not believe you could even possess this pig."

I mocked him while looking at the pig, he started shaking his head then his whole body followed afterward. He snapped his neck to look at the pig and faced it, he kneeled on the bed and started convulsing while staring at the animal.

"Can you do it? You have the power!"

The boy growled and started screaming at the poor pig, "Could you possess the pig?" I asked him once more. His lips twitched to a smirk, "Yes, I can."

His pride was eating him, and it was eating him up good.

"Come on, Satan." I calmly said, giving him the idea that I did not believe him any second.

"WATCH ME!"

Father Gianni was looking at the boy with panic in his eyes, muttering Latin prayers quietly.

"Possess the pig. Show me you are the Prince of Darkness!"

His eyes turned white completely and kept screaming while pulling the ropes. He was almost standing and his chest was out, more growls and screams were heard as he screamed one last time.

"Have you done it, Satan? Have you possessed the pig?" I screamed at him.

"SHOW ME!"

The boy suddenly dropped back onto his bed, and I gave the signal to the man holding the pig.

A gunshot was suddenly heard and pig blood scattered all over the place. It splashed on Father Gianni's face and mine too.

"AHHHH!" The priest screamed, wiping the blood off his face. I held the boy's face and he was whimpering. "Be calm, God blesses you." I told him softly.

Father Gianni's face was in shock, looking around at what the fuck just happened.

"You can sleep now, my son. The demon has gone." His eyes were slowly forming tears, he cried in my hands as I caress his face.

"Dios está contigo"

Then he finally blacked out.

—

"How is it that I am suddenly worthy of the time and attention of all you powerful men?" I was sitting in a chair, crossing my legs and my arms looking at the 5 ministers in front of me.

"On the night of June 4th in the town of Tropea, you performed an exorcism, without the approval of the Reggio Calabria Bishop." One of the ministers said, Father Gabe, with venom and anger in his voice.

"What are you pointing at, Father?" I asked him, licking my dry lips in the process. "From Father Gianni's description, what occurred in Reggio Calabria sounded exactly like an exorcism, complete with animal sacrifice, no less."

I guess that bitch of a priest is throwing me under the bus now, knowing it was his friend's son who got possessed and asked me to perform an exorcism without the church's approval.

But I guess I was too dumb enough to agree with him.

"Yes, I performed the exorcism. So what's your point here, Father?" I was starting to get impatient, I already confessed to my 'wrongdoing, can he just tell me what he wants now?

"You addressed the subject as Satan, called him to display his power. Do you deny this?" The other ministers just listened to what Father Gabe said.

Is he fucking for real right now?

"Father Gabe, since when have I denied your statements?" I asked him, he looked furious and stood up.

"Respect your superiors, Father Ortega!" He pointed his finger at me and screamed, I scoffed at him.

"This is the work of a devil, of course I would exorcize the boy. Now tell me, what is your point?" I furrowed my brows at him and he sat back down and exhaled.

"The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has recommended this panel, that the position of the Chief Exorcist be formally vacated." He smirks at me, locking his hands together.

"So, what you are saying is that evil does not exist?" I asked him calmly.

"The church is under constant pressure to sharpen her relevance. It's time we move past these outdated beliefs."

"Explain to me please, Your Eminence..." He sighs in annoyance as he looks over to the other ministers. "If evil does not exist, what is the role of the church?" The other ministers look at Father Gabe, telling him to revoke his command of vacating my position.

He looks at them with a small frown on his face. He had enough and stood up again.

"I WARN YOU. I WARN YOU, FATHER ORTEGA. TO SHOW SOME RESPECT TO YOUR SUPERIORS."

I stood up, fed up with his voice and useless proposals.

"I DO! I AM THE CHIEF EXORCIST OF THE VATICAN, MY POSITION WAS APPOINTED BY MY BISHOP. MY DIOCESE IS ROME, AND MY LOCAL BISHOP IS THE POPE."

Father Gabe looked shocked by how I screamed at him, he sat back down and threw his papers on the table.

"If you have a problem with me, you talk to my boss. Okay?" I drank the coffee that they gave me in one big gulp and walked out.

—

Your POV

It was a peaceful afternoon and I was taking my daily after prayers as someone busted through my door.

"OMG Y/N! Did you hear? Father Ortega has returned!" Emma, she was my co-novitiate. I was not done with my prayer yet and continued muttering the words.

"defende nos in proelio..."

"Oh," I felt her kneeling beside me and doing the sign of the cross, joining me in my prayer. I held out my hand to her and she held it.

"contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.,"

"Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur."

"tuque, Princeps militiae caelestis, in virtute Dei, in infernum detrude satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,"

"Amen."

We both ended the prayer of protection by Saint Michael the Archangel with the sign of the cross. We both stood up and sat on my bed, I looked at her.

"What was it again Emma?" I asked her, she had a huge smile on her face and started fanning herself. "Father Ortega is here! She's here right now in the Monastery Office!"

She told me with excitement in her voice. I giggled from what she said, "Emma, I know those thoughts are impure." I told her. Emma pouts at me and crosses her arms, "Aw c'mon, cut me some slack. I won't be able to satisfy my human desires once we take our vows tomorrow."

She laid down on my bed and sighs, "Your faith was decided the second you agreed into becoming a novitiate, so why complain?" I looked at her waiting for her answer. She frowned at me, "Aw y/n/n you're no funnnn."

I laughed at her response, "Sister Alciana is waiting for us in the garden, let's go." she groaned in annoyance and stood up. "Alright, let's go."

—

"You both will be taking your vows tomorrow, correct?" Sister Alciana was in front of us in the walk through garden, we were walking together side by side, me on her right and Emma on her left.

"Yes, Sister. Tomorrow is finally our day." Emma replied to her, she held Emma's hands and kissed them. "God will always be with you."

She lets go of her hands and holds mine next, Sister Alciana smiles at me. "Y/n, you will be a great nun that will serve the Lord Himself. Your pure soul will help the helpless, and your holiness will help and guide the unholy."

My eyes lit up by what Sister Alciana said, I felt her hands tighten on my hands and then she kissed them.

"Sister Alciana! It's been a while!" A voice was heard behind us and I saw two figures heading our way.

A man shook Sister Alciana's hands and smiled at her. "Father Oano, it truly has been a while." But I was too busy to listen in on their conversation as I spotted an all too familiar figure behind him, it was her, Father Ortega.

I looked at her and she was already looking at me with a small grin, hands in her pockets. She shamelessly took her time to check me out. I bit my lip and gave her a head nod, and she returned it back with a smile.

Sister Alciana smiled and turned to look at both of us. "Girls, this is Father Oano, a long friend of mine and the priest who will be taking your vows."

"Nice to meet you Father Oano." I stuck my arm out at him and he gave me a firm handshake, Emma did the same and we both bowed at him. "So these are the two future nuns who you told me about? It's a pleasure to meet them." He said to Sister Alciana.

"Yes, these are my two lovely girls who will soon serve the Lord." Sister Alciana smiles at him. Father Oano took something from his pocket and gave me and Emma a small box.

"This is my early present for the both of you, for sacrificing so much just to serve Him." I opened the small box and it was a rosary inside.

Wait, isn't this the Vatican's symbolic Rosary?

I heard Emma gasp, she took the Rosary off the case and held it out to the sun, the golden beads shone brightly under the light. "The Vatican's symbolic Rosary." She said, looking in disbelief.

"Thank you so much, Father Oano. This means so much to us." I told him, he looked down flustered by our thanks and shook his head. "It's no biggie girls."

"Oh my, isn't this... Father Ortega?" Sister Alciana suddenly spoke, looking behind Father Oano. Emma snapped her head at the figure behind the priest.

"Ah yes, she was once my student in my Demonology class, and now she's officially an Exorcist." Father Oano threw his arm around Father Ortega's shoulder, she laughed and nodded.

"The one and only, Sister." She gave Sister Alciana a hand shake. "Not just an Exorcist, but the Chief Exorcist of the Vatican!" Emma said she was so happy to see her, a huge smile was visible on her face.

"You all fluster me," She giggled and looked shyly on the floor. "I've heard so much about you Father Ortega." Sister Alciana locks her hands together and smiles at her.

"Good things I hope, Sister." Father Ortega scratches the back of her neck and awkwardly smiles. "It was more than good actually," Sister Alciana replied and laughed.

"You girls should be going, I have a private matter to discuss with Father Oano." Father Oano looked at Sister Alciana and nodded, they both looked a bit serious so it must be talked between the both of them.

I looked at Jenna and she looked at me, "We should go." Emma said behind me, I nodded at her, "We'll take our leave Father Oano, and Sister Alciana. We'll see you when we see you." We all took a look at each other and waved, after that, the 3 of us walked out the walk through garden.

—

"Sister Y/n, I need to talk to you about a new case I'm going to be doing next week." Jenna broke the silence between us when we were already inside the Monastery, I signaled Emma to leave both of us alone and she quietly left.

"Your office?" I asked Jenna, a blush was present in her cheeks and nodded.

—

Jenna opened the door to her office and we both entered the room. Once she closed the door, she walked over to me and pulled my waist to kiss me.

3rd person POV

You weren't surprised at what Jenna did, instead you held her face and kissed her back. Her arms were wrapped around your torso and kissing you passionately.

You break off the kiss and look at her, she looks absolutely stunning with her hair in a ponytail. She had a huge smile on her lips and looked at you lovingly.

She moved her face closer to you and placed her forehead against yours, you smiled widely and your eyes met her lips once more.

"I miss you so much Jenna," you whispered, she could smell your minty breath and she licked her lips. "I miss you too Y/n, It's been 3 months since I've held you this close."

You hummed and closed your eyes, enjoying your girlfriend's presence. "Your taking your vows tomorrow?" She said as she kissed my forehead and I rested my head on her neck. "Sadly, yes." I sighed and looked up at those hazel eyes.

"Don't be sad about it darling, I do need a personal nun for my exorcist." She looks down at me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear while smiling at me.

"But I can't marry you then." I wrapped my arms around her neck and played with her hair. She kissed me again and mutters,

"I don't need a paper to tell me my love for you is real."

I ran out of breath kissing her and exhaled, before I could even inhale back, she kissed me again but more deeper this time.

Her hands roaming around my lower waist and she pulls me closer to her, she bites my lip and I give out a small moan against her lips and allow her to insert her tongue inside of my mouth.

—

3rd person POV

It was the next day, you woke up completely bare and in the arms of Jenna, you slightly cough because of the dryness of your throat. "Baby?" You heard her calling you, you looked up at her while your eyes were still squinting, adjusting to the brightness of the room.

You hummed at her and further borrowed your face into her breasts, you smiled at the warmth they gave your face. You hear Jenna chuckling at you, "Time to get up, you're taking your vows today remember?"

You whined and shook your head, but it didn't take long for you to shoot up her bed and stare at her naked and hair down form, "Oh shit it's today!" She had a funny smirk on her face and sat up on the headboard, she crossed her arms and tilted her head to look at you.

"You're gonna work for me and only me darling." Jenna smirks at you, only for you to roll your eyes at her. You crawled over to her and pecked her lips.

"Oh yeah? What if we'll get a case where the profound demon knows all our secrets? It won't be so fun now, would it, Father Ortega?" She looks at your lips and grabs your neck, pulling you closer to her face.

"Then let the demon know you're all mine, Querida." Jenna was about ready to have sex with you again but you pushed her back on the headboard, "Your breath stinks Jenna, disgusting." You laughed at her and got out of bed, going into the shower.

She shook her head in disbelief and giggled. Jenna won't be able to marry you, but that doesn't mean she won't put a ring on your finger.

—

Your POV

"Before I take your vows, you must confess all your sins to me first. Then after the confession, God will accept you as his bride." Father Oano told me, he gave me a white veil to put over my head.

He nodded at me and went inside the confession room, "Gather your thoughts first, and confess everything that you have sinned against the heavens, and God himself. Take your time, soon to be Sister Y/n." I felt him softly smiling at me and I breathed in and out slowly, I gave my final exhale then went inside.

It was a cold room, with dim red lights in them. I kneeled down at the pew, holding my Rosary tightly, as goosebumps were forming on my skin.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." I did the sign of the cross and calmed my nerves down.

Beads of sweats were rolling down my face, and I gripped my Rosary.

"Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been a month since my last confession."

"Forgive me mommy, for I have been a naughty girl."

My heartbeat was beating loudly, to the point that I could hear them in my ears.

"These are my sins."

Jenna presses herself into you, her tongue deep inside your lips as you try to suppress your groans. Chest to chest, she pushed her legs in between your thighs, electing a moan from you. You break off the kiss trying to catch your breath, but she slams her lips back to where they were before.

You tilt your head to meet her kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, she caresses your waist under your clothes using her right hand and slowly goes up to your tits.

Your soft moans were looming around in her bedroom, she trails her kisses down to your neck and collarbones, leaving small red spots along the way while playing with your boobs.

You started grinding slowly on her lap, trying to relieve some heat between your legs, Jenna undid the buttons on your clothes, not disconnecting her lips on your now wet flesh.

She unzips your long skirt, leaving you in your bra and undies. "Jump." Jenna's voice was domineering and controlling, you jump and wrap your legs around her waist as she puts you in her bed, cradling on top of you.

You tugged on her hair as she hit a particular spot on your neck, you bucked your hips along with a throaty moan as she kept assaulting that spot.

She stops and straddles you, she removes her black colored suit along with her white t-shirt and pants, leaving both of you half naked on the bed.

Jenna smirks at you below her, your half lidded eyes, you catching your breath, hair scattered along her bedsheets and the visible red marks on your neck down to your collarbones.

"My art looks beautiful," Jenna whispers, touching the marks on you. She removes your bra and sucks on your right nipple like a hungry child ready to suck her mommy dry.

Her right hand is playing with the other jugular, and you throw your head back at the pleasure. Your chest is rising up and down as you feel her right hand trailing your stomach, slowly going down to your cunt.

She bites your nipple and you slightly flinch at her teeth making contact with it. She rubs your wet cloth slit, up and down and smirks looking at you, "Look how wet you are for me sweetheart." Jenna removes your panties and settles herself between your legs.

You bit your lip and looked at her lustful eyes as she prised your legs open, revealing your drenched pussy. You wanted to keep your dignity and unconsciously tried to cover the wetness with your hands, and close your legs.

Jenna slaps your face, "Sluts like you need to know your place." She roughly pinned both of your hands above your head and opened your legs again using her other hand. You whimper at the burning feeling of her slap. But God forbid, it made you feel hotter.

"I wonder what Sister Alciana will think about you, knowing her favored novitiate is going to be fucked senseless by me." Jenna's fingers run your wet folds, her palm touching your clit from time to time. You were too focused on her fingers when you didn't notice your wrist being tied up to the headboard.

She lets go of your hands and touches your inner thighs, "So wet and hot for me baby..." Jenna mutters, she inserted two fingers inside of you, feeling the wet, tight and warm walls. You moan at her fingers and she begins moving them at a pace.

"Your cunt misses me too, how cute," Your wetness is starting to run down your ass as you breathe heavily and close your eyes, her pace wasn't enough for you and you were desperate for Jenna to ruin you. Your hips start to meet her thrust, and Jenna stops.

"Ah-ah. Only good girls get to do that, are you a good girl for me Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look at her, Jenna saw your blushing mess of a face, and you nodded.

"Y-yes Jenna, I-I've been a good girl. Please.." You begged for it, for her to corrupt your innocent soul. Jenna smirks and starts pumping her fingers inside of you fast. You were taken back but the pleasure was all you could think about.

"J-Jenna! Fuck yes!" She went down and sucked your nipples, and wet slapping noises were heard in every motion that she did. "Not my name, princess." Her palms hit your clit and you moaned further, she bit your nipple harder and you threw your head back in pleasure.

"Mommy.." Jenna looks up at you and kisses your lips, "Yes, just like that Y/n. Moan for me and only for your mommy, got it?" Jenna hit the right spot in you and you nodded your head and moaned louder. "Yes! Right t-there!" Jenna opened your legs wide, she went down and licked your clit.

Her fingers hitting the right spot over and over again, and her mouth taking good care of your clit. You bite your lip hard trying not to scream in pleasure as Jenna pounds her fingers into you.

Jenna feels you tighten around her fingers and look up at you, mouth open, eyes close and hair sticking to your face.

Was this the same person in front of Sister Alciana, Father Oano and Emma a while ago? The same person who is going to take her vows tomorrow?

Her fingers went deeper inside you as your orgasm was building up, she bit your clit and added another finger. "Cum for me, Y/n."

You moan her name one last time as your back arches and your pussy convulsing, your arousal seeping out of you as Jenna removed her fingers, and her tongue dug in your walls, lapping up all your juices impatiently.

Jenna sits up with your cum juices glistening under the light on her chin and lips, she bites her lips looking at you, your legs spread wide open and a full view of your wet cunt. She removes the clothes left behind on herself, and despite your blurry vision, you see her getting something from her drawer.

You tried to open your eyes to see what she was doing, but her fucking you after a long time of being away, you couldn't. "On your stomach." Jenna says, you tried rolling over on your stomach but you felt your lower region aching, shooting a pain to your pussy directly. You mellled on the pain and Jenna was becoming impatient.

She forced you onto your stomach and you cried in pain, "So fucking slow." She scowls, she pushed herself onto you latched her teeth on your skin, in every surface of your back, she bites and marks you everywhere. Your back is tainted with purple bruises and marks, you choke out a sob at the pain not only on your area but now also on your back.

"Devine... Now ass up, baby." You were about to put your ass up for her, but again she forcefully brought your ass up herself and you feel something hard hitting your ass checks.

You moan in pain and pleasure. With a belt on Jenna's hands she touches the red spot on your ass, lust in her eyes she brings up the belt high and spanks you with force.

You flinch hard at the impact and let out a cry. It hurts so much but feels so good, you feel yourself getting wetter, your juices running down your thighs at this point.

Jenna laughs at this sight, and a wide smirk plastered on her face. You feel a cold and hard material rubbing against your cunt as you hummed at the feeling.

Jenna aligns the tip of her strap on your entrance, coating the plastic dick with your slick. She grabs the base of the toy and thrusts her cock inside of you. Both of you moan at the feeling.

The sound of skin slapping and moans leaving your throat was overwhelming, she hisses as she sets the pace. Jenna death grips your waist, pushing your body in her dick. Your walls throb with anticipation as you feel another slap to your ass.

Tears fall in your eyes, your lips are bleeding from you biting them. You gasp as Jenna bites your nape, the pleasure doubling from her bite, as she fucks you against her mattress. "You're doing so well, Y/n..." Pushing her hips further in you, your arms give out and your face hits her pillows.

"Taking mommy in so well, princess..." Jenna reaches for your nape and pushes her hands, choking you from behind. Your eyes widen from the lack of oxygen, making you feel high, and dizzy. She pounds into you, fast and unsympathetic of her actions. Hitting all the right spots inside of you, you moan loud and good, showing off your incredible vocal cords.

You feel yourself tightening against her cock, your and walls clit convulsing at her cock touching your cervix. Jenna notices this and, "You wanna cum, baby?" Her tone was playful and filled with excitement, she fucks you deeper and faster as if it wasn't enough already.

She slams again and again, smiling at your state, head to the side struggling to breathe, your whines and throaty moans, but all though you were on the verge of passing out and overstimulating, you slam yourself against her cock desperate for your own release.

She holds your waist tighter and with a final slam, your body shakes violently as you feel an abnormal amount of liquid gushing out of you, squirting onto her mattress, Jenna looks down with pride.

She made you squirt, and she was more than fucking happy with it.

"Y/n?" You snapped back to reality as you heard Father Oano's voice, you randomly bucked your hips forward, making a sound.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" You hear Father Oano's voice again, you breathe heavily and nodded, as if he could see you.

"Y-yes! Yes, Father. I-I'm just getting a bit emotional..." You faked sniffing. You heard Father Oano hum, "Do not be ashamed of your sins, Y/n, for the Lord is merciful and he will show mercy to those who deserve it."

It has been hours, and you still found yourself getting fucked by Jenna, with multiple orgasms you've had, you were going in and out of consciousness as you felt her biting your neck.

"J-Jenna... Please, no more..." You whimper at her touch. Jenna didn't listen, instead, she slammed her lips onto yours, earning a moan from your mouth. The overstimulation was getting into you and you started crying in pain, you scratched Jenna's back, too lost in her pounding inside of you like there's no tomorrow.

Your pelvic sore from the prologue of your legs over her shoulders and she slams deeper. "I'm not done with you, Mon cher" With each thrust you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, Jenna stops kissing you and goes down to your tits, sucking, biting and squishing your nipples.

"You don't know how many times I've touched myself without you, baby. Those 3 months were too long for me not being able to touch you..." Jenna looks at you, her hair sticking to her skin, as she pants.

"Now that you're here with me..." She takes her dick out, "I can fuck you whenever I want to..." She slams it inside of you again. You throw your head back with an uncomfortable look on your face, tears rolling down your face, and you can't help but moan.

"Open your mouth, Y/n. I have a present for you, for being so good to our Lord and Savior...." You look at Jenna and all you could see was lust in them, you opened your mouth and Jenna gathered her saliva, and spit inside of your lips.

Her spit made direct contact with the back of your throat, making you choke, but as you were about to cough it out, Jenna grabs your neck and presses down.

You tried stopping her choking you, but your hands were bound. Jenna grabs both of your legs and throws them over her shoulders again as they are slowly falling down the mattress. She rolls her hips at a certain angle, and your eyes roll over your head.

Mouth agape, Jenna spits inside again. Your stomach turns as your orgasm comes crashing down, you felt yourself cumming but a warm liquid coming out of your clit was too embarrassing to not notice.

Jenna slowly removes her strap and kisses your forehead, "You're alright, Y/n." She lays both of your legs down on the bed, and you whimper from the pain. Jenna caresses your face and wipes your tears away.

"Close your eyes and sleep, I'll take care of you, princess." You slowly open your eyes and see Jenna softly smile at you and you smile back. "Jenna..." You whisper, she hums and kisses your temple. "Yes, baby?"

"I love you."

And you black out from exhaustion, Jenna smiles widely and looks at you lovingly.

"I love you too, Y/n."

"Forgive me Father, for I was fucked by Father Ortega last night," You mumbled to yourself. "I can't quite catch you, Y/n." Father Oano said, "Forgive me Father, for I squirted so hard for her.." You mumbled again.

"I'm gonna need you to speak up a bit louder for our Lord to hear them." Father Oano's voice was calm and understanding.

You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, your panties drenched with wetness. You held out a moan, and started panting faintly. Your head was spinning and your legs started shaking, you felt yourself almost at your high as you finally said.

"Forgive me Father, for I have a vibrator up my cunt right now that Father Ortega placed this morning."

"What?"

694 notes · View notes

veryberryjelly · 2 months

Text

stupid stairs

tara carpenter x fem!reader

prompt : them holding your sides for better support ( set after scream 5 but before scream 6 )

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

after tara broke her leg she began relying on you a lot, much to her chagrin.

it took a lot more energy for her to do simple things like walk to the kitchen for a glass of water or grab a sweater from her bedroom because she was cold.

so you took it upon yourself to help her out. even if every time you did she begged you not to and that she could do it herself.

you let it slide the first few times, but after she slipped on a shirt in the hall trying to grab a phone charger, you didn't even give her the chance to again.

you couldn't stand to see her hurting, especially when you could do something about it.

8 weeks she was stuck in that boot.

8 weeks of her not being able to do anything without dragging her foot along the floor.

so when the cast finally came off she was desperate to run and jump, but the doctor informed her that she should still take it easy for two or three days.

so when you got home, you helped her inside and convinced her to just lay in bed and watch some movies.

you started off with a comedy you had both seen before but still chuckled every couple of minutes.

" i'm gonna make some tea, do you want anything ?" tara asked as she shuffled to the edge of the bed.

" i can do that, b- "

" sweetheart, i love that you care about me, and i am very appreciative of everything that you've done over the last 8 weeks. but the boot is gone. i am capable of going down to the kitchen to make some tea. " her tone was almost comforting in the way she assured you she would be fine.

" fine, just be careful, please " you asked as she eased herself up and off the bed, limping slightly as she walked to the bedroom door.

you knew that you had to trust her, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

your anxious thought were disturbed when you heard your name being called from the bottom of the stairs.

you had never leapt out of bed faster, speeding down the stairs to find tara sat at the bottom with one of her hands clutching the bannister.

you didnt say anything, not wanting her to think you were gloating as she was in pain on the floor.

you walked over to stand infront of her, offering your hands to pull her from the ground.

" my leg buckled under me. only fell a couple steps " she explained, her hands holding onto your waist to keep herself from falling again.

" are you okay ?" you questioned softly, your hand lifting to brush some misplaced hairs from her face.

she nodded simply.

" could you make me a tea ?" she questioned, causing you to smile and press a kiss onto her forehead.

" of course, baby "

460 notes · View notes

anyataylorjoys · 6 months

Text

Your son... he was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing. He was a limp dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat.

658 notes · View notes

ceridescent · 9 months

Text

Jealous Freak — F., Amber

Amber Freeman x Female!Reader

Summary: amber freeman has some serious issues, says samantha carpenter, your most loyal friend. but who cares when she's so hot when bothered, with you to take the fall?

Warning/s: top! amber, bottom!reader, heavy use of expletives, degradation kink, praise kink, strap-on usage, choking, pet name use (bunny), hair pulling, vaginal fingering, manhandling, & mentions of blood.

Word Count: 4, 417

Author’s Note: this is my first! evah! scream fan fiction! i’m so excited !!!!! (may or may not have a part two plotted in mind :*).

a loud chuckle erupts from you by your best friend’s comment, the ribbon that tied both you and your woman together; beginning freshman year, two months ago.

you finish putting on your halloween costume, glazed under the vanity lights. taking a look at yourself before applying your makeup, you take pride at how your girlfriend fashionably knows how to navigate these things.

amber didn’t mention anything about dressing up as a bloody bunny, which you are grateful for, not that she gave instructions for you to follow. she only mentioned it once, her desire to design a halloween outfit for you, and you excitedly approved, bouncing up and down her lap as you did so. then, she made you promise not to ask any questions nor clues regarding your costume, as it would spoil the fun.

and now the box sits on top of your mattress, hard and empty.

the post-it note: something cute and small, just like my bunny, along with a smiley face, sticks on the mirror in front of you.

“aah!” your throat scratches at your scream as you are met with a ghoulish-looking mask. “what the hell?!?” you screech turning around, kicking the quiet masked man with your knee.

“ow! baby!” an all too familiar, muffled voice sounds out of the mask, the anguished tone expressing its anguished features.

the man takes it off, revealing

“amber,” you sigh, coming over to her, giving a hug whilst massaging her crotch, the place you hit hard on.

“you almost knocked me out,” she sniffles, making you pull away to look at her glossy eyes. she then smirks.

“nailed it, baby,” huskily, she bites her lower lip, trailing her eyes all over your clad form, lust etched all over her gorgeous face. you hit your playful girlfriend’s shoulder, earning a small groan from her. immediately you rub it to soothe, feeling the soft fabric on your palm, its soothing texture.

“so what do you think about my costume?”

amber twirls around with a beam, showing it off. “huh? what do you think? left you speechless?” she raises her brows to urge you to say something, giggling as you trailed your eyes up and down her ghostface costume.

you take a huge gulp of your saliva, feeling very exposed. “left me screaming…”

“oh definitely!” amber sniggers, “that really was my desired reaction from my baby girl. you just never fail to make me proud,”

you moan as she peppers kisses all over your neck and collarbone, each contact getting louder as her lips trails down your body. “amber,” you mewl, pushing her away. you give her a pointed look. she innocently shrugged. “what? i’m just kissing you there so i won’t smudge my girl’s makeup!”

“how considerate,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes, walking back to the vanity mirror.

“you done?” she asks, plopping down on your mattress beside her gift box. “i think you are,” she sighs, staring at your plump ass whilst you’re bent over the vanity desk, applying lipstick.

“patience, girlfriend, beauty takes time.”

“but you’re already so beautiful,” she half-sighs and half-whines, stomping her doc martens like a bratty child. “i want to kiss you on the lips already!”

“wipe off your drool, get in line. you’re not the first one,” you giggle, finalizing your glam with a lip gloss. tilting your neck to see your girlfriend’s reaction, as expected, with her arms crossed together against her chest. her ghostface mask sits flatly on top of her lap. amber freeman’s the jealous type. overly and overtly. you walk slowly towards her.

shaking her head, she makes an eye-roll before pulling you closer by the waist, rubbing them up and down, tightening her grip as she thumbs the front of your bodysuit. she stands up then, her hands still glued on you, and you can’t help but to look at how tight she clenches you as if you’re her property. until she pulls your chin up to focus on her brown eyes. amber’s lips part, hungry ruby reds taking her time.

you almost drown in them, spiraling into the caramel pools of carnality and admiration. blinking twice, you escape amber’s dilated pupils, only to count the moles on her pale face. you hear a shuffle. “just keep looking at me,” she instructs, mumbling, “just look at me,” her breath ghosting over your cusps, teasingly inching her red plump lips against yours. “is it okay now to mess up my baby bunny’s lips?”

you gasp, feeling her softness bump against your own for a millisecond with a tender gaze, batting her eyelashes at you, entertained by how you will respond to her advances.

“it’s-“

amber opens her mouth with a sigh, the way she comes with your mouth around her clit, chuckling as you stumble back slightly, losing your grip around her padded shoulders. “oh,” she purrs, pulling you back in with the chain she slyly strapped to your collar.

“hmmm,” she hums, admiring her work.

“it was what, bunny?”

you stammer, trying to find the words, clearly struggling to form a coherent thought.

“well whatever that is, it can wait. we’re already five minutes late to the party so we better get movin’!” she exclaims with such eagerness, tugging your leash in the process. you choke the moan that was ready to pop out, grateful to be preserving the amount of dignity you could spare.

amber doesn’t let go of your leash while she takes on the ghostface mask, until she puts you in the passenger seat.

amber’s muffled giggle could be heard before it disappears, a click of a red glowing button placed between her neck and shoulder. she turns at you, eerily slowly, pulling out a fake bloodied knife out of nowhere, creating stabbing motions.

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you groan, clenching your thighs. a sudden throb pulsed through you when she did that, piling up to the list of her teasings of the day. “baby,” you whine, “we’re already 10 minutes late. that can wait,” you remind her as you drag your words, the whole time staring at a blank mask stare, unaware if she’s reciprocating. but it’s your girlfriend amber freeman, who loves to make eye contact.

“you don’t treat me like that-“

amber tugs at your leash and you whimper, cowering as the heat between your thighs intensifies. amber has never been this rough.

she huffs, “you’ll be sorry for that,” putting away her props and turning off her voice changer device.

“you got your seatbelt on, baby?” she asks, back in her sweet, loving voice. you smile, caressing the mask, “yes, baby, good to go!”

“oh my fucking god!” you hear sam exclaim, raking her shocked eyes all over you. “you’re a slutty bunny!”

“now, now, sam, don’t eye my girl like that,” amber warns with a scoff, shielding you protectively from the fake lara croft. “hey, i can handle myself, thank you very much,” you complain, pushing amber away. you’re met with a smirking sam, looking at amber with a knowing look.

“then maybe you shouldn’t have chosen that halloween costume for everyone to ogle at her, ms. smart pants,” sam tells amber matter-of-fact, waving to the crowd which definitely eyed you like a fish in an oasis, howling and whistling as they passed you by.

“you’re scorching, ms. croftie! are you out looking for gems?” you ask her flirtatiously, twirling your hair, like girls do when they tease their friends. samantha chuckles and slaps your shoulder playfully, “yes and the bigger the better!” giving you a high-five whilst your girlfriend handles the situation she’d cause with her ghostface costume and her fake bloody knife.

“fuck off!”

“oh, scary,” sam mocked sarcastically, dragging you away from your distressed girlfriend. “that woman could be stupid,” your best friend sings, giving you a drink. “i think she meant well,” you fend, twirling a lock of curled hair as you sip the alcohol. “do i really look like a slut?”

sam rolls her eyes at your innocence with an amused grin. “you’re wearing a damn bodysuit with bunny ears and a bunny tail, y/n. let’s not forget you literally have a collar and leash strapped to your neck.

“you’re dressed as amber’s slutty pet this halloween, god’s sake.”

samantha carpenter nods at your blown away look of wide eyes and an open mouth, her words slowly registering through your pokey brain. she lets a moment of silence encompass the both of you as you look down at your costume. the red on your lips. the fake bunny parts you happily placed on your body to dress the part. the collar that’s tight around your neck — to impress amber — to have the best halloween costume in the party — to make amber proud.

“oh,” you say.

“oh. is that bad?”

your best friend chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief. “well…” she checks you out, biting her lower lip in the process. “if amber wasn’t in the picture i for sure-“

“it’s not bad for you, princess. i think. but for amber,” sam sighs, tilting her head to see how her friend is doing with all the oglers. “it’s 50/50.

“she loves to show you off. this is her most elaborate way of parading you to everyone, at the latest. she loves for every single one of us to know that she owns you, like a pet, or something. i bet she got too carried away to forget about all the motherfuckers who want to steal you away from her.”

all that talk with sam had your mind going hazy, if it wasn’t already. you’re not even sure if putting on that costume and staring at yourself the whole time in the mirror looking like an animal was part of amber’s slick foreplay, but now that you’re in here…

another strong pulse digs in between your thighs, pestering the nerves into a blaze. and you don’t even remember if you’ve put on a panty to salvage the bottom of your bodysuit, but that made you throb even further.

“both of you are stupid in ways you complete each other,” she concludes, nodding her head.

“thanks?”

samantha chuckles, checking you out again. “you’re welcome, bunny.”

“no one calls her that but me!” amber yells at sam’s smirking face before she grabs your wrist, pulling you away from the crowd and into the nearest bathroom down the hall.

you jump at the loud noise of the shutting door, everyone’s halloween-prepared faces staring back at you. before you could fully comprehend the circumstance, your girlfriend shoves you against the bathroom door and pins your arms above your head. the hollowed holes stare at you dead in the eyes, you can feel it, amber shooting lasers into yours. she groans as she pulls away.

“baby,” you coo, your voice wavering, “will you take off the mask? i’m getting worried…”

“fuck this,” amber cursed in a muffled growl before unveiling the mask, shoving her lips onto yours, biting it harshly it stings.

you moan at the pain and the pleasure of amber soothing your cut with her lips, gradually getting softer at the moment. she slides her gloved hands around your waist and squeezes it so hard you open your mouth to sigh. taking the opportunity, she slides her tongue in to suck yours.

“yes, baby,” she pushes the words into your mouth, “you’re doing such a good job for me.

“we just got here and i gotta fuck you to let them know who owns you,” she huffs it itritatedly as if she can’t believe it; like things didn’t go as she had planned.

“but you were gonna?” you ask in a whimper, panting. the softness of her full lips feels so addicting you didn’t want to open your eyes.

she slithers her knee against your core, grinding up against it, moaning “oh fuck yeah baby i was gonna,” breaking the kiss for a moment to solely feel your warm pussy. “i was gonna fuck you on the terrace where everyone could see. but that’s too far un-fucking-fortunately.” you both moan, picturing the image inside your dazing heads.

“amber,” you whine, her cursing turning you on more.

“and i need to be inside you baby. i need it so b-bad,” you whimper and nod your head in agreement, amber’s cries setting your mind off completely.

but then you giggle.

“are you wearing any panties?”

“why don’t you come find out, ghostface?”

amber growls and pulls your neck into a fiery kiss, each nip and suck sending you into a spiral of frenzy. amber unbuttons your crotch, pushing her fingers on your clitoris successfully.

“fuck baby!” she moans loudly, closing her eyes. her head falling behind you against the door, her forehead resting against it. “fuck, baby…” she whispers, using her thumb to rub on your clitoris, her middle and ring finger ghosting over your hole. you both hear the slosh of your pussy echoing inside the bathroom.

“you drive me so fucking crazy.”

you can’t even think straight.

your head reels and you haven’t even drank alcohol yet. amber’s scent alone got you fuzzy; however, the way she yelled your name and proudly claimed you in front of everyone, her possessiveness, her jealous intent, her desire to claim, fuck, that just had you dripping in your fucking bodysuit.

“are you ready for me, baby?” she asks in a low tone, saccharine and soft, and before you could respond,

“ah,” you scream, her fingers sliding easily into you. she holds you back, her left hand on your hip to hold you down, shaking her head as she stares at you with blown out eyes.

she bites her lip, breathing heavily with you, the party noises outside blocked out by your moment. “i slid in so easily, baby. i can’t believe i own this slutty pussy,”

“y-you own it,” you muster to say aloud, letting her manhandle around your waist, planting her mark over there as well.

“i do, yeah?” amber’s got that cocky smirk all over her face, the one thing you want make out with. you nod your head, pulling her for a kiss.

“of course i do,” amber grunts, pulling away but not before biting your lip, pumping her fingers into you, her pace getting quicker. “i own the sluttiest pussy in town,” she groans as she watches your pleasure-stricken face, blood oozing out of your busted lip. it takes all her might not to nibble, sucking off all the blood.

amber’s wrists angles diagonally, her tips hitting against your g-spot. you scream high-pitched, caught off guard, falling over the door. she chuckles as she catches your frame, kissing your cheek as reassurance.

your girlfriend’s grunting continues, a series of possessiveness and promises bursting out of her dirty mouth, luring you into your orgasm. you do nothing but moan in heat, nodding your head, and taking every hard pound.

you grip onto her shoulders, the pace and the pounding driving you to the edge.

and then she pulls away. completely.

you fall on your bum and cry her name, watching her figure in a blur. “baby?!” you squeak out, pushing yourself up with your palms to no avail. your weak legs shake. your heart pounds as she goes over to you, her gaze predatory and her movements aggressive.

“come here,” her gentle voice calls in total opposite of her actions as she yanks you by the hair, manhandling you by the chest area, tossing your front against the sink of the bathroom. “see that?”

you see it — the smudged makeup on your flushed face, the few littering marks on the left side of your neck, your disheveled hair, the falling bunny ears. you nod your head, squeezing your thighs together to get some sort of comfort. you’re so empty all of a sudden. “fix your ears for me, bunny.”

you do as told, positioning your bunny ears on the top sides of your crown, making them look untouched. amber hums in approval.

“there we are,” she caresses your cheek with a smile, which soon turns into a smirk, its transition so terrifying. you watch intently with innocence in the mirror, aware of what she’s going to do but still the need of her to do so to confirm it. amber’s soft features turn into a sharp and hollow ghostface mask. suddenly she’s not your girlfriend. and yet with her thumb caressing your side and the rest of her fingers wrapped around you in a possessive hold, you know it's still her.

“now that we’re both in our costumes,” she sighs, her muffled voice turning sinister and rough, “i can get started.”

she pushes her front against your back like she’s burying something in there and you gasp with your head thrown back, feeling amber’s bulge nesting on your ass. “hmmm,” she hums like she’s thinking, “this doesn’t seem right, bunny. do you think it’s correct that i’m not sliding in?” she pants, trying her best to fit it in but “it just won’t budge, bunny,” she tells you.

you shake your head immediately, desperation coating your face. “n-no! n-no! it’s-“ you groan as she begins to hump on you, whatever emotion she’s portraying you cannot see. “please take out your cock!”

“where is my cock?” she teases, rubbing herself against you, positioning it as if her zipper’s unzipped. you whimper, unable to proceed with your girlfriend’s playfulness. “it’s on my ass, please! give-“

“and what’s my name, pretty girl?” you hear the octave drop of amber’s voice, the edges rough and spicy. she’s using her bedroom voice now, you know.

“please am- ah fuck! mmm!”

two deliberate spanks are harshly pressed on the sides of your asscheeks, causing you to bounce due to the constricting space. because your girlfriend is right behind you, she feels you rubbing against her dick.

“what’s my name?” she almost shouts, impatience dripping down her tone.

“ghostface! please- i-“

“please…?”

“please give me your cock, please ghostface. please, ghostface,” you moan, desperate and needy you feel like a flame that’s going to be burnt away. “bounce for me one last time then, bunny, and ghostface will give it to you.”

you nod your head excitedly, bouncing up and down against ghostface’s clad dick, feeling her thrust every up of your ass. you stop when she grips tight against your sides and a “good bunny, so good,” praise leaving her cruel mouth.

you bite your lip to contain your excitement as you hear amber unzipping her blue jeans, letting it pool around her ankles. you whimper and pout when you see her dick standing tall in her hand, nodding your head nonstop when she asks

“do you want this? do you want my dick in your pussy?”

“please, ghostface. i need your cock in my cunt. please fill me up,”

all the while giving your most innocent look, knowing what it does to your girlfriend.

amber snarls and places her left palm against your abdomen to position you — ass up, and then her left hand goes over to your shoulder blades, pushing them down, sheating herself into your pussy hole in one go.

ghostface doesn’t leave any room for adjustments, growling “take it! take it you little cock slut!”, pounding herself in and out of you, your sinful cries combined with your awfully loud pussy taking everything in.

she joins into the music with her modulated sounds, the noises so unfamiliar but you know it's her.

you didn’t know amber was into this type of roleplay, although subtle, but it probably was already a great indication of her obsession over the stab franchise. she would always joke around about being ghostface, and asking if you would consider being an accomplice when she goes into a killing spree.

“yes that’s it, that’s it you fucking slut, take it all in. dirty my cock with your juices,” she husks as you mewl and thrash around your girlfriend, your body pliable and delicate to amber’s liking.

“fuck fuck fuck,” you cuss with your head going downcast, as if you were on the best rollercoaster you’ve ever rided on. “oh my god, fuck-

“fuck!” you scream, your neck being pulled up by the throat, the blank stare of ghostface staring right back at you in the mirror. “don’t fucking look away, bitch! look at me! look at me while i fuck you!”

you cry and nod your head, mascara running down your cheeks as you glance at yourself in the mirror before looking at her. you bite your lip at the debauchery of the situation — a woman with a ghostface mask fucking you in someone else’s bathroom as a party goes on — making your pussy even wetter.

“that’s it, that’s it,” ghostface pants, her head dropping down to watch how her length disappears, your ass blocking the whole view. “take it like that, good bunny. that’s my good bunny,”

goosebumps flare up your skin as you gasp, catching your breath, all the while beginning to feel the rush of your climax. you hold onto her arm to signal her to slow down, “i- slower, ghostface-ah!” but she smacks your ass raw to no avail.

“what do you mean, slower?” amber’s voice returns, muffled and husking. she rams her cock deeper into you, every thrust pronounced and fast. “are you gonna cum, baby doll?”

“mm-! plea-!” she smacks you again, this time on the right side of your breast. “no!” she yells and fucks you harder.

amber yanks your hair back so you're arching even more, the tip of her dick hitting right into your g-spot. “god damn, right there!” you whine, meeting her thrusts in the middle. “you’re such a messy whore!” she takes her clutch away and without her support your face falls onto the sink, almost. thankfully your left arm firmly rests against the marble tile.

“i’ll decide if you get to come!

“fuck you, fuck you, i hate your sexy ass,” she groans, her thrusts getting sloppy, her pace going slow. “please,” you beg, “please let me come around your cock, ghostface,” you added the title for great measure. “please, i’ll even let you fuck me in front of the girls who wants m-“

you gasp and start feeling your blood clog up around your throat, “don’t you fucking dare try to bring the others girls up and manipulate me, you fucking bitch,” her grip vice-like around your neck. “i may be a jealous freak but that doesn’t mean i’m stupid.”

ghostface takes off her mask, revealing her flushed face and her disheveled black hair.

a sigh of relief washes over you, seeing your girlfriend after twenty minutes of being rough fucked.

“but this,” you mewl and roll your head back, thoughts being derailed off your mind, amber’s hold around your neck getting tighter, “this little fucking makes you so fucking stupid. doesn’t it?”

“u-huh. u-huh,” you agree, not really understanding what’s going on now. you’re seeing stars. “i thought so too, bunny.”

and when you thought amber’s going to finally make you come around her cock, she takes off her grip around your neck, turning you into a coughing fit, saliva dripping out of your mouth. “god, fuck. fuck this pussy. so fucking tight!” she curses it into the air whilst she stares at your pretty flushed face, all railed out because of her.

“i hate it when everyone looks at what’s mine. i hate that i can see what they think of you when they see you in these clothes,” amber huffs, biting your neck, leaving marks of purple and blue. you hiss, tilting your head to give her more room, nodding your head impatiently. “i hate when they eye fuck you when i’m around. fuck them, baby. i will fuck you in front of them. i’ll show them who you belong to.” she barks and bites your right shoulder, making you cry out in pain.

“f-fuck! i’m so close, baby, i’m- fuck!

“who do you belong to?” amber yells it in such heavy desperation that you immediately answer, both of your coils about to snap in half.

“you! i belong to ghostface!”

“that’s right-fuck me! fuck- bounce against me!” she prods her hips violently, holding yours with both of her hands, guiding you to meet her in the middle.

“that’s it, bunny! i’m coming! i’m co- come with me!”

screams and whines leave both your mouths as you reach your highs, your bodies shaking as you do so. amber chuckles as your ass automatically presses back against her front when she falls on top of you, her exhausted legs weakening.

“oh, what a good bunny!” she exhales, pushing a strand of hair in the back of your neck, kissing your flushed cheek. you hum feeling her lips’ soft caress, “you did great too,” mumbling.

“i was?” amber’s brown eyes sparkle at the praise, “yes you were. so…so good for me,” helping you turn your body to face her. “be careful,” she says, guiding you to sit on top of the toilet cover. she sits on the floor in front of you, her ghostface mask lying on top of the sink.

“so rough and so perfect at it,” you compliment teasingly, your energy on the low. you bend down, taking her chin to plant a kiss on her saccharine lips. “i love my jealous freak.”

amber hums, returning the kiss, moving her mouth into you steadily with no rush. “mmm, of course you do,”

you both giggle and pull away, deciding to take a five-minute break before going out of the bathroom to get refreshments and eventually party like you were supposed to.

“are you not going to fix your makeup, bunny?” amber asks, looking at you with admiration in her eyes. her ghostface mask wraps tightly around her fingers, draped low to be put on. you shake your head, a grin forming your freshly coated lips.

“and ruin your work? no thanks,” you kiss her on the lips for a brief moment and pull away, fixing your bunny ears for the last time. “let them know who owns me.”

amber liked that very much.

when you finally casted yourselves out of the bathroom, a soft smile coated your dirty face whilst amber held her cocky smirk, her arm wrapped possessively around your waist, the other holding the leash tied around your collar. you were glued to each other the whole night, letting everyone know who you belong to. and of course, what you both did in the bathroom.

#amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x you #scream v #scream x reader #scream 5 #scream smut #amber freeman smut

962 notes · View notes

ethan-nestor-owns-my-heart · 5 months

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Thank you Jenna and Melissa for showing us to always stand up for what you believe in and to not let censorship win.

#scream #scream vi #scream 6 #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #sam carpenter #scream v #tara #melissa barrera #carpenter sisters #boycottscream7 #boycott scream 7 #freepalestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free Palestine #justice for melissa barrera #justiceformelissabarrera #fuck you spyglass

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braidlottie · 6 months

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KINKTOBER DAY 20 / STRAP ON w/ SAM CARPENTER

soft!dom!sam, innocent!sub!afab!reader, strap-on, riding strap, mentions of oral sex

“you wanna come sit on my cock, baby?” sam tilted her head, smiling at your innocent face. she patted her lap to bring you over, the silicone dick pointed straight up to the sky, all lubed up and ready for you.

“don’t be shy,” sam chuckled and took your hands, lining you up with the strap. she forced you down nice and slow, cooing at your whimpers of pain.

but once the pain subsided, your stomach was tickled with pleasure when sam taught you how to ride.

“up and down. just like that, baby.” her hands still gripped your waist. “feels so good, sammyy,” you almost cried from the feeling.

“aww, i bet it does, cutie. keep bouncing, honey. you’re doin’ so good.” sam is surprised you haven’t drew blood yet, you were biting your lip so hard.

“what’s this, huh?” sam spread your lips, referring to your throbbing clit. she brushed against it and you squealed, your orgasm growing closer and closer. “gonna- gonna cumm, sam.”

“that’s right. you can cum, baby. on my cock, thaats it,” sam stretched, groaning when she felt your cum soak through her pants, making her even hornier.

“since you were so good, i think you deserve an award, don’t you?” she helped you sit up, taking off the strap and pulling off her underwear. “on your knees, baby. and open up.”

#sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #scream #scream x reader #scream v #scream 2022 #scream vi #scream 5 #scream 6

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rollingsins · 7 months

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Quinn Bailey Must Die, p4

p1 | p2 | p3 | p4

summary: Tara puts her plan into action. YN loses a bet. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ass agenda rise.

Tara’s plan comes to fruition over cups of black coffee, your scrambled eggs and a half-eaten set of Mickey Mouse waffles.

Mindy’s brow is pinched as she drafts up the first message.

You’re a little restless, Tara’s hand on your back doing nothing to soothe you.

“There,” Says Mindy, after a moment, “How’s that?”

Tara takes back her phone.

“Hey,” She reads out, “What u up 2?”

Tara blinks.

“This is what took you five minutes to draft?” She asks, voice scathing.

Mindy huffs.

“No,” She says, “That’s just a primer. You can’t go in all guns blazing, Tara, she’ll get suspicious.”

Tara rolls her eyes.

“Been thinking about u lately,” Tara continues, “Feels weird how we left things.”

You clench your jaw.

Tara rubs your back, absent-mindedly.

“How r u doing? Sorry when my gf gets crazy like that there’s nothing I can do.”

You scowl.

Mindy ducks behind her coffee cup.

“Mindy, I don’t type like this,” Says Tara, hotly, “Where’s the grammar? This sounds like it was written by a fourteen year old boy.”

“Fourteen year old boy is Mindy’s spirit animal,” Says Chad with a grin, throwing a blueberry between his lips.

“Shut up, Chad,” Groans Mindy, “Tara, fine, you can change the grammar. But the rest of it? Does it work?”

Tara purses her lips.

“I suppose it’s not terrible.” She offers.

Mindy smiles.

“Skip a bit,” She suggests, “Get to the good stuff.”

Tara scrolls, and reads out the rest of Mindy’s text.

“I always thought u were sexy,” Tara reads, “You know Ginger Spice was always my favorite spice girl.”

Tara raises an eyebrow.

You snort.

“This is the good stuff?” Chad asks, “Mindy, you could have a billionaire dollars and you still wouldn’t be able to talk a thirty dollar hooker into bed with you. No wonder you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Tara sniggers.

Mindy shoots a glare his way.

“I can too get a girlfriend,” Says Mindy, voice hot, “I just don’t want one right now. Girls are high maintenance, I don’t have time for that.”

“Amen.” Mumbles Tara.

You nudge an elbow into her side.

“Ow.”

“You can not have a girlfriend too, if I’m too high maintenance.” You say, and Tara shakes her head.

“You’re worth the maintenance baby,” Says Tara, as you dodge her kiss, “You’re like a really nice lawn. No house is complete without it.”

“Romantic.” You deadpan, “How come you’re a house and I’m just a lawn?”

“You’re a mansion, baby,” Tara assures, “A ten million dollar mansion with an infinity pool.”

Mindy huffs.

“Can we get back to the mission?” She asks, sounding annoyed, “If you don’t like my pickup lines, you’re welcome to try out your own, Casanova.”

“I don’t need pickup lines,” Assures Tara, “Isn’t that right, baby? One look and you were smitten.”

“And one sentence and I have the ick.” You say, crinkling your nose.

Tara’s smile drops.

“Babe.” She whines as Mindy snorts.

“Give it to me,” Chad says, with a sigh, “Apparently I’m the only one around here who can talk to a girl.”

“‘Wanna come watch me lift weights?’ is not the pick up line you think it is, Chad,” Says Mindy, voice wry, “Besides, it won’t work coming from Tara.”

“I lift weights,” Tara says, with a frown, “I’m getting super strong, see?”

She flexes her bicep.

You roll your eyes.

Mindy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re like 4’11, Tara,” She says, “I could snap you in half without flinching.”

“I’m 5’1 and I’ll snap you in half if you don’t stop talking.” Growls Tara.

“Guys,” Says Liv, flailing her hands, “Stop. Chad’s got it. Show them, babe.”

Tara takes back her phone, still scowling.

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” She reads, “Should have kissed you. Sorry I didn’t.”

Mindy tilts her head.

“It works,” She admits.

“And if she just shows Sam the message?” You ask, “Then what?”

“She won’t, babe,” Says Tara, squeezing your arm, “Do you even remember how hard she worked for me?”

You do remember.

You wish you didn’t.

Tara presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“And besides, if she shows Sam the messages, Sam will know how serious I am about this.” She kisses you, “It’s going to work, babe, I know it.”

“When are you going to send them?” Asks Liv.

Tara thinks.

“When she’s away from Sam,” Says Tara, “Maybe tonight. We’ll rope her into a movie night, right babe? That way we’ll know Quinn’s nowhere near Sam.”

You sigh.

“Come on,” You say, voice a little glum, “We better head back. With any luck, they’ll be done and she’ll be gone.”

“What’s your favorite breakfast food?” Asks Quinn, head pressed against Sam’s pillow.

“Eggs,” She answers, “With Arugula, preferably. Maybe a little balsamic vinegar.

Quinn wrinkles her nose.

“Most people say pancakes,” She teases, lightly, “Or bacon.”

Sam frowns.

“I believe you should only put good things into your body.” She says.

Quinn smirks.

“Nice to know I’m a good thing, then.” Smiles Quinn.

Sam’s cheeks turn red.

“You know what I meant.” She says.

Quinn leans over and kisses her.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Asks Quinn.

Sam shrugs.

“It’s Sunday,” She says, “I was just going to relax.”

Quinn bites her lip.

“How about we go and get some Eggs with arugula? My treat.”

Sam bites her lip. The thought of spending more time with Quinn is surprisingly, not that unpleasant.

“Alright,” She says, with a smile. Butterflies flutter in her belly, “If it’s your treat.”

“Sam?” Tara calls, as she cracks open the door, as if she’s scared of what’s behind it.

You press against her back, impatient.

“Baby, hold up,” She says, gently, “I don’t want you seeing something.”

“They’re not going to be fucking on the dining table, babe.” You say with a roll of her eyes as you push past her.

“Someone should.” Says Tara, voice pointed.

You look around.

The apartment is quiet.

Not a peep from Sam’s room. The door is open, the bed messy and unmade. But it's empty.

Tara drops her bag over the counter.

She picks up a small, handwritten note.

“Out for the day, back later.” She reads.

“With Quinn?” You dare ask.

But Tara only smiles back at you.

“Not for much longer,” She says, sounding pleased with herself, “As soon as Sam’s back and out of Quinn’s clutches, I’ll send the texts.”

She moves forward and loops an arm around your waist. Presses a hot kiss to your next.

“Now, about that thing you wanted to do this morning,” She says, voice low.

You cock an eyebrow.

“I think it’s safe to say the moment has passed.” You say.

You squeeze her hips.

“But, babe-“ Tara says, with a whine, “You said-“

“Another time,” You promise, “Besides, don’t you have a test to study for?”

Tara sighs.

“I’m majoring in film, babe, I don’t need to study.”

She looks up, bottom lip in a pout.

“Why don’t I quiz you?” You suggest, “It’ll be fun.”

Tara thinks.

“And if I get all the answers right then I get to rail your ass?”

It earns her a smack.

“You’re not going anywhere near my ass if that’s what your intention is.” You tell her.

“I’ll go slow, babe, I promise,” Tara assures, taking your earlobe between her teeth, “I’ll go so slowly you’ll be begging for it by the time I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flutters.

“Maybe later tonight,” You think after a moment, “If you nail it.”

Tara brightens.

“Not the only thing I’ll be nailing tonight.” She grins.

“Don’t make me change my mind.” You warn.

Sam comes back mid-quiz.

Tara hasn’t gotten a single question wrong, and you’re starting to sweat. There’s a hungry look in her eyes, as if she’s hunting down her prey.

You welcome the distraction.

“Hi girls,” Sam says, as if nothing in the past twenty-four hours has changed, “Do you want lunch?”

“We just ate Sam, thanks,” You say, and she hums.

You catch Tara’s eye.

“Sounds like you had a good night.” Says Tara, a little snarky.

Sam sighs.

“Don’t start, Tara.” She warns.

Tara folds her arms.

“Just don’t come crying to us when she breaks your heart.” She says, a little pointed.

“Tara-” You say, but Sam just rolls her eyes.

“Noted. What do you want for dinner tonight? Cauliflower tacos or lentil spaghetti?”

Tara wrinkles her nose.

“Why don’t we make dinner for you, Sam?” You interject, hurriedly, before Tara can speak, “It’s the least we can do. You cook for us every night.”

Sam blinks, a little surprised.

And then she smiles.

“Alright,” She says, sounding happy, “That sounds nice.”

Sam disappears into her room.

Tara pulls out her phone, giving you a pointed look.

She taps a few buttons and then smiles, pleased with herself.

“Operation you-know-who-must-die is in action,” She mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, “Now finish the quiz. I’m ready to take my prize.”

Tara aces the quiz.

Not a single question wrong.

In truth, there’s a part of you who had hoped she’d fail. But there’s another part of you positively gleeful she hadn’t.

Tara kisses you with a victorious grin, and then smacks your ass with her hand.

“Go get ready for me,” She says, voice low, “I’m all ready for you, baby.”

“It’s 4PM,” You say, biting you lip, “Maybe we should wait until tonight-”

Tara groans.

Your skin feels sensitive, tingly. The anticipation over the last few questions has you in a hot flush.

It feels exciting. New.

The fact that your girlfriend is preening only adds to the excitement.

“You promised,” She whines, “Stop moving the goalposts. You want me to beg? I’ll beg. Please, baby, let me fuck your ass-”

“Tara.” Sam groans as she emerges from her room, gym bag in hand, “Boundaries, we talked about this-”

Your face flushes red.

You’d die on the spot, if the option were possible. But Tara doesn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can lecture me on boundaries considering the noises that were coming from your room this morning.” Tara says, curling an arm around your waist.

Sam huffs.

“I’m going to the gym,” She mumbles, “YN - something healthy for dinner tonight? Please?”

“You got it, Sam,” You mumble, face bright red.

But Sam is unperturbed. Nothing phases her, at this point. She leaves the apartment with a click of the front door.

“All alone,” Tara murmurs, looping her arms around your waist and squeezing your ass, hard, “So you can be as loud as you want, baby.”

You bite your lip.

“Let me get ready,” You mumble, “Meet you in the bedroom in a bit.”

When you’re showered and ready, you make your way into the bedroom.

Tara’s already laid out her arsenal.

Her strap-on, a bottle of lube longer than your forearm and a grin that tells you this almost certainly won’t be the first time she takes you like this.

You drop your towel.

And watch Tara’s gaze sink down.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tara murmurs, as she reaches you out to take her in your arms, “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

She pulls you down for a searing kiss.

You’re nervous, but she always finds a way to soothe you. Firm hands on your hips, her mouth working wonders against your lips.

She pulls you on top of her, and then pulls back, nudging her nose against yours.

“We can stop anytime you want,” She promises, “If it’s too much, just say.”

She brushes a strand of rogue hair out of your eyes, “I love you, baby,” She whispers against your lips, “I want you like this, but if it hurts too much, just tell me. I won’t be annoyed. Promise.”

She seals her promise with a kiss.

You don’t doubt her for a second.

You capture her lips once more, arousal pooling in your stomach as you feel her against you.

You’ve denied her before, like this.

You wanted her to work for this.

But in the process, you’ve been denying yourself your own desires.

You slip your tongue into her mouth, grind down against her, ready to give her everything.

And then the front door slams open.

“Tara!” Sam calls, sounding anything but mellowed after her gym session, “Get your ass out here, now.”

The mood shatters. You pull away from Tara, head turning.

Sam sounds pissed.

Tara groans.

“Fuck off, Sam, I’m busy,” She says. She flips you onto your back, nudges herself between your legs.

Sam bangs on the door.

You almost jump out of your skin.

“Quinn told me everything,” She says, voice dangerous, “Get out here now or I’m coming in.”

Tara freezes.

Your heart jumps.

Hastily, Tara slides off you.

She fumbles around for a spare t-shirt and tosses it your way, running a hand through her hair. As if her worst nightmare has just come to realization.

“Tara!” Sam bangs once more.

“I’m coming, Jesus, Sam.” Tara says.

You pull the shirt over your head, fumble around for a pair of sleep shorts.

By the time Tara opens the door, Sam is standing behind it, red-faced, fury in her eyes.

She holds up her phone.

Although you’re squinting, you can still make out Tara’s text messages to Quinn.

“This is next level pathetic, Tara,” Sam says, voice hot, “Even for you.”

“Sam, I can explain-“ Says Tara. .

“You don’t need to explain,” Says Sam, “I know exactly what this is. You trying to prove Quinn is using me. But it didn’t work. She showed me the texts. So now what, Tara?”

“I was just trying to help,” Tara says, voice even.

Sam scoffs.

“You were trying to help?” Sam asks, “You can help me by minding your own business and staying out of it.”

“She’s using you, Sam,” Tara explodes, “It’s obvious to everyone except you. Why can’t you see it?”

“I don’t care if Quinn’s using me,” Says Sam, “I’m using her too, in my own way. That’s what we all do as people, isn’t it? Use each other? For love, for comfort, for sex? Why do you care so much that it’s her?”

“Why does it have to be her?” Growls Tara, “We hate her, Sam. We kicked her out of our apartment, for crying out loud. She tried to ruin our relationship-”

“But she didn’t,” Says Sam, eyes wild, “I have nothing, Tara, don’t you understand? Why couldn’t you let me have this?”

Tara blinks.

You swing your legs over the bed, move to Tara’s side.

“We were just trying to protect you, Sam-” You say, voice a little shaky.

Sam looks over at you.

“You don’t need to protect me,” She says, “Quinn’s fun. Quinn’s easy. I need a little bit of that in my life.”

“She’s certainly easy,” Says Tara, folding her arms.

Sam’s face flashes.

For a moment, you think she might actually hit Tara.

But then she clenches her jaw, and her shoulders draw.

“I’m going away for a while,” Says Sam, after a long moment, “I’m going to stay with Quinn. I can’t even - look at you right now, Tara.”

Tara blinks.

“I was trying to save you.” Says Tara, “You’re going to punish me for that?”

“It’s hardly a punishment,” Retorts Sam, “You don’t want me here anyway, you’ve made that much clear. Now you can do whatever you want.”

“And what about rent?” Asks Tara, voice hot.

Hurt flashes through Sam’s features. Your breath catches in your throat knowing Tara’s said the wrong thing. Again.

“Rent?” Sam asks, voice incredulous.

She scoffs.

And then turns.

You and Tara follow her out, a little hasty. Sam returns to her room and pries her suitcase from under her bedframe.

She starts tossing items in as Tara scrambles.

“No, wait, Sam- that isn’t what I meant,” Says Tara as Sam throws her suitcase onto her bed, “That’s not the most important part of this. YN and I want you to stay. Not just because of rent.”

Sam offers her a weak smile.

“You don’t need your big sister cramping your style,” She says, “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I should have just got a second job in California and venmoed you the rent.”

“We’re glad you came, Sam,” You say, a little urgent, “We like living with you. It’s a small apartment, of course we all annoy each other. Tara annoys me everyday. And I annoy her too. That’s just how it is.”

Sam sighs.

“That isn’t how it should be,” She says, “I shouldn't be here, God. I shouldn’t be in your space. I should have left you both alone.”

Tara has a weird look on her face.

“Sam, don’t leave,” She asks, sounding crestfallen, “Please.”

“It’s for the best, Tara.” Answers Sam.

She zips her suitcase closed.

“If you leave me again, I can’t promise I’ll let you back in.” Tara says. Her eyes are hard, but her voice shakes.

Sam sighs.

She touches Tara’s shoulders, and then pulls her in for a long hug.

“I’ll be gone a week or two,” She says, “I’m not abandoning you, Tara. We just need some space from each other right now.”

“If you leave,” Tara repeats, “You’re not coming back.”

Sam smiles, a little sad.

“I won’t be gone long.” She says, “God, Tara, I'm just so mad."

She pauses, a moment.

"But I love you. Always."

Tara's face hardens.

And she doesn’t say it back.

Sam leaves.

And you deal with the fallout.

#all hers #qbmd #ghostface!tara #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #scream #scream vi #scream v #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagines #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #mine #fanfic

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