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cloudyriffs · 6 months

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I still can't believe you're gone babygirl. It's some horrible nightmare I can't seem to wake from. 2 weeks ago today that stupid fucking fentanyl took you from me and everyone else who loved you.. I love you, and I miss you beyond words, but im angry at you. I begged u for months so whatever drug u want but stop with the fentanyl before I have to watch u overdose on video chat 3000 miles away and there's nothing I can do... Usually I enjoy being right as most do but this is the time I wish I was wrong..maybe I jinxed it, maybe one small tiny insignificant thing i could have said, or done would have changed your course. Maybe had I been nicer that day you wouldn't have been upset and resorted to using fent again....you remember? That time on the farm in Langley? We were on video chat..you got fent for the first time? Two tiny hits outta that bowl you overdosed and I watched you turn grey? All.i remember is bawling, begging u not to leave me ...and by some ...I dunno something , u woke up and u pulled thru it without narcan..I'm angry you took the risk again and now you're gone..I'm im so fucking angry but....I miss you and I love you far beyond any amount of anger..I will forgive you. I hope you're peaceful and happy whereever you are ...I know you prolly won't see this ....I'm sure the afterlife doesn't have Tumblr. I love you cori

@envymourn @luvbog @june--cancer

#cr #ks #cloudyriffs #spun love #iii iv xxii #luvmuffin #i love the sky #imissyou #so fucking sad and alone #i love you #rip

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cherienymphe · 1 year

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Basic Training Masterlist (Peter Parker x Reader)

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, kidnapping, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, housewife kink, cop!Peter

III

VII

VIII

XII

XIII

XIV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

➯ dividers by @straywords

➥ Peter’s POV (after Ch. 11)

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #dark fic #dark peter parker

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songmingisthighs · 5 months

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Wanbelyn Masterlist

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × nurse!reader

start : December 4th 2023 KST / December 3rd 2023 (author time)

status : completed (April 18th 2024 KST / April 17th 2024 author time)

updates : every day, 12.30 am KST

✨️ - written chapter

buy me coffee ?

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

(comment in this post to be added)

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rollingsins · 7 months

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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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https-yeonjun · 1 month

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gross! (c.yj)

synopsis. r/RelationshipAdvice: what do you do when you bump into your ex-situationship when you come home from college?

pairing. yeonjun x fem!reader

genre. angst, fluff, smau

warnings. swearing, details of kissing, if there are any others, i will include them in the chapters specifically

featuring. all members of txt, yeji and chaeryeong of itzy, sungchan of riize

started. mar 16

ended.

status. ongoing

a/n. this is a yuck spin off!! it's literally been months in the making but i'm finally posting this eek ><

profiles: bitches who brunch no more mr. nice guy himbo brigade

i. comeback season ii. i thought she died iii. blast to the past iv. ding dong the witch returns (written; 661 words) v. sour by olivia rodrigo vi. fuck it we ball vii. (500) days of summer viii. please send the floods ix. mass disbandment x. in the sense that xi. team y/n xii. nothing to worry about xiii. the band's back together, sort of xiv. all fun and games xv. shift in the air xvi. bad idea, right? xvii. burning bridges xviii. we're good xix. eternal sunshine of the cluttered mind xx. beginning of the end xxi. resolutions xxii. one last chance xxiii. our year of falling

bonus!

ask the characters: google form ask the characters: answers part i part ii yeji's words of wisdom ask the characters: take two: google form

more of my work

taglist: @boba-beom @silvergyus @wiisoob @isabellah29 @yutacchin @amanda4004 @dejavu-jun @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @wolfytae-exe @hyunjinvoid @thejadeazalea @yawnzsof @wccycc @ryunjin0 @my313 @nikilvrfvr @beaabz @taytayjustherelol @soobsfairy444 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @headlockimnida @coconutjjun @itzzz-yerin @snghoonluv @tyunzonlystar @impureperhaps @calumsfringe @bunnyeonny @luvtyunn

this taglist is closed! fill out this form to join my permanent taglist!

#fay's works #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun smau #yeonjun angst #txt smau #txt fluff #txt angst #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together #hueningkai #beomgyu #soobin #taehyun #yeji #chaeryeong #sungchan #itzy smau #riize smau

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

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- ', kinktober 2023 masterlist ↷

• includes: anime & manga ― marvel & dc ― video games •

◜ my first kinktober, so, I hope I will do fine. also, praying that this time I will be able to publish them on time and in order. ^^ have fun while commiting pretty sins with me in this kinktober of 2023! *kisses* [links will be added the moment they are published.] • m. masterlist ◞

◇ day 1-7: anime

I. gojo satoru › filming ⭑ before going on a mission, gojo decides to record you while being fucked by him to watch it later.

II. ryomen sukuna › breeding kink ⭑ sukuna just wants a womb to put his babies in but it changes when he fucks you.

III. fushiguro toji › size difference ⭑ you bet you can have toji raw & dry with only one go.

IV. uchiha obito › mutual masturbation ⭑ you can’t deny the desire you have for obito and you want to show it.

V. hatake kakashi › semi public ⭑ he seems to enjoy how you clench around him with the fear of being caught in the act.

VI. roronoa zoro › cock warming ⭑ you ask to zoro whether he needs any help or not, and in return, he makes you sit on his cock so that it can get warm while he’s sleeping.

VII. monkey d. luffy › eating out ⭑ why not using his devil fruit ability while eating you out?

◆ day 10-17: marvel & dc

X. bruce wayne › car sex ⭑ bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.

XI. jason todd › hate sex ⭑ being the arkham knight’s sworn enemy has its perks; being fucked by him every night.

XIII. clark kent › aftercare ⭑ after having a rough session with clark, you let him take care of your exhausted body.

XIV. bucky barnes › dilf ⭑ you’re his sugar baby, so, he want you to show your gratitude to him in the way he pleases the most.

XV. steve rogers › face sitting ⭑ after caps shaves his beard a question pops into your mind – how it would feel to sit on his now clean face?

XVI. bruce wayne › power play ⭑ the game you play takes a different route in which you try to dominate him, but, he doesn’t allow you.

XVII. jason todd › thigh riding ⭑ while begging jason to start fuck you, you discover how you can get the pleasure you seek from riding his thigh.

◇ day 20-29: games

XXI. leon s. kennedy › praising ⭑ leon likes to being praised by you so much that it’s overwhelming.

XXII. simon ghost riley › sex pollen ⭑ after the mission is done, waiting for trucks, you realize something is wrong with your body but ghost there to help.

XXIII. heimdall › dom/sub ⭑ heimdall likes to be on his knees for you.

XXIV. chris redfield › riding ⭑ you try to take him raw.

XXVII. sub zero › humiliation ⭑ your grandmaster gives you a lesson for the disrespect you have showed in front of others.

XXVIII. cal kestis › first time ⭑

XXIX. simon ghost riley › toy/vibrator ⭑

◆ 30: bonus [soon!]

XXX.

enjoy! ♡

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pictureinme · 8 months

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kinktober '23

first time i've ever done something like this, so forgive me if it isn't up to par! (very much ib @floralcyanide)

ao3 | main master-list

i. strap-ons - patricia 'kitten' braden ii. hate sex - jackson rippner iii. roleplay - robert fischer iiiv. collaring - paul sunday v. praise/degradation - burt fabelman vi. sex toys - agent donald buchanan vii. overstimulation - jonathan crane viii. virginity - eli sunday ix. dry humping - neil lewis x. bondage - jay (okja) xi. fear play - jonathan crane xii. semi-public - neil lewis xiii. high sex - vw guy (taking woodstock) xiv. sex tape - edward 'riddler' nashton xv. impact play - thomas shelby xvi. body worship - louis ives xvii. cum play - joby taylor xviii. wax play - jackson rippner xix. daddy - burt fabelman xx. lingerie - patricia 'kitten' braden xxi. free use - calvin weir-fields xxii. voyeurism - edward 'riddler' nashton xxiii. panties - seth (looper) xxiv. mutual masturbation - jim (the delinquent season) xxv. dacryphilia - eli sunday

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lychniis · 2 months

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⚘ ― EVENFALL ! ( valentines day event ).

( # )ㅤ evenfallㅤ —ㅤ twilight ; dusk. the period or the light from the sky between full night and sunrise or between sunset and full night.

syn. a valentines day / white day event inspired by hozier lyrics ( and also seconding as my 1000 follower event i suppose XD ). feel free to drop by and select a prompt from the list below alongside a flower / genre. you could always opt for more flowers. however please note that minors are not allowed to request for / interact with nsfw works. please note that the maximum character limit is three.

this was more of a last minute bout of silliness, but i'd love to write some requests for you guys after supporting me and my bs for nearly two years now XD. so hey hey, my inbox is open to be raided! i'm currently taking this event for genshin impact and honkai star rail!

prompts. the prompts and flowers available are listed below. you can request a single prompt + one of more flowers of your choice! you could also add some additional suggestions if you'd like, say a setting or an au or a scenario! requests close by the 20th of febuary. i'll start posting on white day, march 14th.

daisy — fluff.

hyacinth — angst.

tulip — crack / humor.

orchid — smut.

i. ❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

ii. ❛ no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her. ❜

iii. ❛ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

iv. ❛ some like to imagine. the dark caress of someone else. i guess any thrill will do. ❜

v. ❛ honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes. i feel like a person for a moment of my life. ❜

vi. ❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

vii. ❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

viii. ❛ know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty, oh my sunlight. ❜

ix. ❛ you don’t understand, you should never know, how easy you are to need. ❜

x. ❛ idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword. ❜

xi. ❛ honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. ❜

xii. ❛ i'm so full of love I could barely eat. ❜

xiii. ❛ honey you're familiar, like my mirror years ago. ❜

xiv. ❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜

xv. ❛ there’s something tragic about you. ❜

xvi. ❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

xvii. ❛ still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs. ❜

xviii. ❛ i’ve known the warmth of your doorways. through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ❜

xix. ❛ screaming the name of a foreigner's god, the purest expression of grief. ❜

xx. ❛ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted, but i’m singing like a bird about it now.

xxi. ❛ the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. ❜

xxii. ❛ i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

xxiii. ❛ i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me. ❜

xxiv. ❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

xxv. ❛ i had been lost to you, sunlight, and flew like a moth to you. ❜

xxvi. ❛ it’s not my arms that will fail me, but this world takes more strength than it gave me. ❜

xxvii. ❛ i need you to run to me, run until you feel your lungs bleeding. ❜

xxviii. ❛ i will not ask where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

xxix. ❛ be still, my foolish heart. don't ruin this on me. ❜

xxx. ❛ honey, i wanna race you to the table, if you hesitate, the getting is gone. ❜

( all the dialog prompts presented here are taken from songs by hozier. i own none of them. )

EVENT WORKSㅤ •ㅤ ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

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cloudyriffs · 7 months

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I don't know how many mutuals we had so I'm not sure who is going to see this but she went by many blog names on here due to deactivation of accounts.. luvbog, yourjester xxxiiivi june--cancer and most recently envymourn...Oct 6th 2023 at 1am (also my birthday)..envymourn whose real name was cori passed away from a fentanyl overdose...I miss you so much babe ..I dunno what to do without you...I still cant believe youre gone...I keep expecting u to text or call and be like "gotcha asshole" but i know you can't. I miss you more than I know how to put into words and I love you beyond anything or anyone I've ever loved. You'll always be in my heart and my thoughts every single day til my time comes and hopefully I'll see u again! I love you cori RIP😭😭😭

#passed away #fentanyl overdose #ks #cr #cloudyriffs #spun love #iii iv xxii #luvmuffin #i love the sky #imissyou #so fucking sad and alone #babygirl #my world #rip

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cherienymphe · 1 year

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When The Party’s Over Masterlist (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away...especially when he refuses to let you.

➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, forbidden relationship, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, loss of virginity, forced pregnancy, innocent reader, Heyward!reader, dad!Rafe

III

VII

VIII

XII

XIII

XIV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

XXV

#dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #Dark Fic #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction

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cemeterything · 16 days

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silt verses tarot assignments:

i. the fool - hembry / sid wright

ii. the magician - VAL

iii. the high priestess - nana glass

iv. the empress - the trawlerman & the promised bride

v. the emperor - katabasian mason

vi. the hierophant - hayward

vii. the lovers - mercer and gage* / devereaux and sebastian if you insist on a romantic couple. this podcast doesn't have many options lol.

viii. the chariot - faulkner

ix. strength - brother wharfing

x. the hermit - roake

xi. the wheel of fortune - katabasian roemont

xii. justice - adjudicator shrue

xiii. the hanged man - the children of the woundtree / the many below & dennis duplass

xiv. death - the cairn maiden & stewardess acantha

xv. temperance - sister thurrocks

xvi. the devil - press secretary carson

xvii. the tower - the wither mark

xviii. the star - carpenter

xix. the moon - sibling rane

xx. the sun - vaughan

xxi. judgement - paige

xxii. the world - the god of penda's slake & charity

(*the lovers is not an inherently romantic card, it symbolises unity)

#🐉#not 100% sure about some of these but it was difficult to assign everyone an individual card #the silt verses

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rollingsins · 1 year

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all hers, part x

summary: Sam moves in. Tara isn’t happy, so you soothe her in the only way you know always works.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder, drug abuse, strap-ons, vaginal sex, top!reader, bottom!tara

word count: 3.5k

a/n: for all my bottom!tara supremacists. enjoy, and tell me what you’d like to see next!!

Tara stays in the hospital for the rest of the weekend.

You don’t let her out of your sight, not once, sleep curled into her side with your back against the hospital bed railing so she can have more space.

You think she kind of likes it, you fawning over her like this. You can tell by the way she grips you tight when you try to get up to go to the bathroom. Or when she insists she’s too tired to shower alone.

The morning after she was first admitted, Sam shows up in a flurry, her new boyfriend Richie on her arm.

“What happened?” She asks, somewhat accusingly as she looks down at Tara’s sleeping body, curled into your side.

You hesitate a moment. Sam’s scary when she gets angry, and this would almost certainly make her mad.

“She mixed some pills. She was… upset.”

“Upset?” Sam asks, “Upset about what?”

“Wes.” Tara croaks out, stirring against your side, “He’s missing.”

Sam crouches down, brushes Tara’s hair out of her face.

“Oh, Tara. I know. I’m so sorry.”

Then, she grips Tara’s hand, hard.

“What were you thinking?”

Richie’s looking at you, a little funny.

“Maybe we should go and get some coffee.” He suggests, “Let these two catch up.”

“No.” Tara says immediately. Grips a possessive hand around your waist. You press a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s a good idea. I’ll be ten minutes. You can catch up with your sister. I’ll get you some Jell-o.”

She stares at you a moment, before relenting.

“Strawberry, please.” She murmurs.

You press a kiss to her lips. Watch as Sam surveys you. Then follow Richie out of the room.

You’ve met Richie exactly once. Tara didn’t like him, but you didn’t think he was that bad. A little awkward, sure. Gangly but harmless. Sometimes, inappropriate jokes.

He cracks one now, as you’re lining your paper cup underneath the coffee machine, trying to break the tension. You don’t laugh.

Your girlfriend lying in the hospital with tubes coming out of her nose has somewhat ruined your sense of humor.

“So, uh… what do they think happened to that Wes kid?” Richie asks, out of nowhere, “They think it was Ghostface?”

You turn, sharp.

“No. He’s missing, that's all.”

Richie hums.

“That’s the Sheriff’s son, right?” He asks, “We ran into her on the way here. Wouldn’t want to be the one who took her kid. That guy’s in for a world of hurt when she catches him.”

Your stomach churns, uncomfortably.

“You ran into her on the way here?” You ask, head tilting.

Richie nods, “Yeah. Told her about Tara. I think she’s going to come and check on her later this afternoon.”

Your stomach drops.

“Oh. Perfect.”

Richie catches your tone, “You don’t like the Sheriff?”

You pull your coffee cup out from the filter. Try to appear casual.

“She doesn’t like us.” You say, honestly, “She’s- caught us. A few times.”

“Huh.” Richie says, like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. You’re hoping it will make him uncomfortable enough to stop asking questions. It seems to work.

“So. Um. No word from Tara’s mom?”

By the time you make it back to the room, Sam’s taken your seat, and Tara looks unhappy.

“They were out of strawberry.” You murmur, press a kiss to her cheek. Set the raspberry Jell-o to the nightstand. You settle down on the edge of her bed, rub at the frown on her face, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m moving back home.” Sam answers before she can speak. “It’s a bit of a- shock, clearly.”

“Oh.”

A storm brews behind Tara’s eyes. You rub her arm, hoping to calm her a little. It doesn’t work.

“You can stay a week.” Tara says, sounding very much like it’s the last thing in the world she wants to offer, “Then you can go.”

“Tara, this isn’t up for negotiation.” Sam says, she reaches for Tara’s hand. Tara’s shoulders tense, “Mom is…. fucking useless and I don’t want you in that big house all alone. Look what just happened.”

“I’m not alone,” Tara argues, “I have YN. And we’re happy. You being there would just… ruin everything.”

“Thanks.” Sam says, a little sarcastic. She doesn’t look put off, “I won’t ruin your love bubble, sis. I promise. YN can stay. Richie and I will take the guest room-”

“Richie?” Tara says, incredulously, “No, Sam. No way.”

Richie laughs, somewhat uncomfortably. He looks at Sam.

“Always great to know where I stand with the family.”

“Enough, Tara.” Sam says, like it’s final, “It’s my house just as much as it is yours. And I’m staying there so I can keep an eye on you, like it or not.”

Tara’s in a terrible mood when Sam and Richie finally leave to pack. You curl up into her, try and soothe some of the anger with a kiss.

“Come on, babe.” You say, press your lips to her chest, “It won’t be that bad.”

“She always does this.” Tara seethes, “She always has to ruin it. Why does she always ruin it?”

“She cares about you.” You say, “She just wants you to be safe.”

Tara pouts.

“I like it when it’s just you and me. How am I supposed to eat you out on the kitchen counter when she’s around?”

“You’re not.” You say sternly, “And don’t you dare try.”

She groans.

“See? This already sucks.”

You kiss her once more.

“We’ll just have to have sex in bed like regular people.” You tease, stroke her cheek, “It’s not the end of the world.”

Tara bites her lip, “And you’re staying with me, right?” She says, sounding somewhat vulnerable, “You’re not going back home to sleep without me, right?”

“I’m staying with you,” You assure. Punctuate your point with a kiss, “I promise.”

A knock on the door breaks you apart.

It’s Sheriff Hicks, dressed in her uniform, hat in her hands.

“Hi girls.” She says, “Just thought I’d stop by and check in.”

Immediately your heart races. Your hands sweat, clammy. The Sheriff moves a little closer, edges to the end of the bed. Tara’s hand tightens around yours. She rubs her thumb over the back of your hand, soothingly.

“Hi Sheriff.” She says, “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Your sister mentioned some pills.” Sheriff Hicks says, eyes stern, “Care to tell me where you got them from?”

“My mom’s bathroom cabinet,” Tara lies, without a beat, “That’s not a crime, is it?”

“Actually it is.” The Sheriff says, “That coupled with the underage drinking. Not a good look, Tara.”

“You’re not going to arrest her?” You ask, in somewhat disbelief, “Look at her. She’s in a hospital bed.”

The Sheriff surveys you for a moment. Her expression is blank, unreadable. But her eyes give her away. Hard, pained. She’s hurting. And hurt makes people unpredictable. For a moment, you really do think she’s about to pull out her handcuffs.

“No. Just- don’t do it again. I can only look the other way so many times, Tara.”

Tara nods.

Your heart slows, just for a moment.

“Any word on Wes?” Tara asks.

The Sheriff swallows.

“No. But that’s actually part of the reason I came here.”

She looks like him, you think. Same eyes. Same unnerved expression.

“I know you girls said the last time you saw him was on Thursday. But I have a witness who told me otherwise.”

You might be sick. Your heart hammers so loudly you’re sure she can hear it. Tara grips your hand.

“Really? Who?”

“One of your neighbors.” She’s looking at you, critical, hard, “They saw Wes on your doorstep Friday afternoon.”

Silence fills the room. Your mind is blank, frantic. You scramble for an excuse. Tara beats you to it.

“You left your biology notes for him, didn’t you babe?” Tara says, turning to you. You look into her eyes. Warm, encouraging. Slowly, you nod.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. He asked if he could pick them up.”

The Sheriff watches you, her stare piercing.

“And you let him in?”

“He had a key,” Tara says smoothly, “We were- showering.”

“So you didn’t see him?”

Tara shakes her head.

“No. Sorry. Like I said, we were busy.”

You bite your lip, anxious. Wonder if she’s buying it.

“If he had a key, why did he knock?” The Sheriff asks. Your stomach whirls. It’s a fair question.

“All our friends knock,” Tara says, her fingers tightening around yours, “We have a certain reputation. Ask Mindy, or Chad.”

The Sheriff’s tense shoulders loosen a little. She scribbles something down on her notepad.

“Alright. Thank you girls.” She hovers a moment, “I hope you feel better, Tara.”

And she leaves.

The moment she’s gone, you bury your face in Tara’s neck.

“It’s okay, baby.” She soothes, rubbing her hand down your back, “She believed us.”

“I hate this.” You say, mournful, “Every-time she’s around, Tara, I feel like I’m going to-”

“Shh.” Tara murmurs against the top of your head, “Everything is okay.”

Tara’s discharged in the morning.

Sam drives the two of you home, ignores Tara’s grouchy jabs as she cooks the three of you dinner. Tara’s still a little weak, so she serves you in bed. When she comes back to collect the plates, Tara isn’t afraid to give her honest opinion.

“The chicken was a little dry.” Tara says, slouching back against the pillows, “Can you please make sure Richie doesn’t touch my movie collection. I have it alphabetized.”

Sam isn’t easily deterred.

“Get some sleep.” She tells the two of you. Presses a long kiss against the top of Tara’s head, “Love you. I promise I won’t let Richie touch your precious movie collection.”

You kick off your jeans, crawl back into bed with Tara as Sam leaves.

“Be nice to your sister.” You chide, pinch her side as you curl into her, “She’s trying.”

“Too little, too late.” Tara murmurs, “Besides, I wanted to watch that new M Night Shyamalan movie tonight. Can’t do that with Richie lounging around, playing his stupid shooting games.”

Richie had commandeered the living room pretty quickly. Faintly, you can hear the sounds of Call of Duty blasting up the staircase.

“We can still watch it.” You assure, “I’ll get my laptop.”

Tara makes a face.

“Baby, you can’t watch movies on a laptop. It ruins the entire experience.”

“So we’ll watch The Bachelor.” You say, a little excited at the prospect, “They’re down to the final three.”

Tara tugs at your waist, pulls you into her.

“Or…” She says, pressing a kiss to your neck, “We could do something else.”

You close your eyes. Her tongue runs down the length of your neck, that familiar feeling of arousal flickering through your body.

“You’re still sick. You need your strength.” You say, a little half-hearted. Her hands grip your hips, trying to pull you on top of her.

“I’m lying down, aren’t I?” She murmurs. Her hands reach down into your underwear, trying to tug them down.

You sigh, tilt your head to kiss her feverishly.

You’ve missed her like this, you realize the moment your lips meet. You haven’t had sex with her in almost two weeks, a record for the two of you. Without a word, you relent.

Her hands are greedy, roaming, trying to touch every inch of your skin.

You climb on top of her, hands on her face, keeping her lips fused to yours.

She’s so good with her hands, you think as she slips you out of your clothes. Her touch is like wildfire, igniting every part of you. Passionate, fierce kisses as she pushes her body up to yours, trying to grind herself against your thighs.

You part from her lips for a moment, trail hot kisses down her neck.

She’s egregiously overdressed. Blindly, you tug her sweatpants down her legs, her underwear soon to follow.

You pull her shirt up, kiss your way down to her nipples and take one in your mouth.

“Fuck.” She moans as you suck gently, take the other one between your fingertips. You can hear Sam and Richie’s voices downstairs, lick at her nipple once more before leaning up to kiss her again.

“Quiet, baby.” You murmur. The last thing you want is Sam coming back up to check on her. Your hand slips down her body to feel between her legs. She feels so good, warm and wet. Your moan almost matches hers.

She looks up at you, smiles slightly, her dark eyes impossibly turned on.

“Snap.” She murmurs before you’re leaning down to kiss her again.

You kiss a while more, slipping your fingers through her wet heat, loving the feeling of her tight under you, desperate leaning up to meet your kisses. She’s so pretty like this, wild, wanting and so wet. It sends a thrill through you. Even after all this time, even after you’d had her like this so many times, she still got so turned on for you.

“I love you.” You sigh into her mouth, “I want to taste you so bad.”

It’s not a question, and you don’t wait for her response. You kiss your way down her body, tilting her thighs to nestle yourself between them. You press a quick kiss to her inner thigh, then allow yourself to dive into her syrupy wetness.

She moans as you swipe your tongue down her length. Her hands reach down to your head, locking you in place. You kiss her once, then twice, then trail your tongue down to her entrance, lapping gently in the way you know she likes so much.

You wrap your arms around her thighs, keeping her where you want her. Teasing her entrance, slipping your tongue in and out a couple of times. She tastes incredible, you can’t get enough. You drink her greedily, like she’s a fine wine, then lick your way up to her swollen clit.

“Oh my god.” She’s moaning as your tongue flicks against her. Her thighs tighten around your head, her hands gripping your hair so tight.

You lick a few times, drawing a little more wetness out of her before you’re wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking hard. She likes it like this, she likes the pressure of your lips against her, suctioning hard, not giving her a moment to breathe.

Her hips are tilting up, trying to get more as you lovingly suck her into an orgasm.

She cums quick, hard, all breathy, quiet moans.

Her hips jerk, and then sink back into the pillow. You release her with a final, tender suck, then press your lips to her thigh as you’re rising back up to meet her.

She sighs as you kiss her, wraps her legs tight around your torso.

“I missed you.” You tell her, press another gentle kiss to her lips, “I missed doing that.”

“Me too.” She says. Her hands are still in your hair, her body pressed tight against you. She’s still so wet against your stomach.

“I want to do something.” You say, your lips against her jaw, “I want to fuck you.”

She nudges her nose against your cheek, smiling slightly, “What do you think we’re doing? Playing scrabble?”

You’re deadly serious. You don’t smile, grip your hands tight around her thighs.

“No, baby. I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth falls open, slightly. She knows what you mean, you can tell by the way her eyes darken, a little unsure. You kiss her once more, soft, reassuring.

“Please.”

She swallows. Surveys you for a moment, those pretty brown eyes, dark, hesitant. Then, she nods.

You don’t give her a moment to change her mind. You’re reaching into the top drawer of her nightstand, tugging out the harness. Usually, this was her role. It’s what she liked the most. Topping you, making you hers. Tonight, you wanted to make her yours.

She watches as you slip the straps around your waist, her legs spread slightly, making your mouth water. You hurry through it, wincing as you tighten it a little too hard, confusing yourself with the varying straps.

“Here.” She sits up, helps you into it properly. Gives your hips a little squeeze.

You kiss her once more. Tangle your hands in her dark hair. Then you’re pushing her back onto the bed.

She looks a little confused. You didn’t wear the strap much, but when you did she was usually on top. You lean down and kiss her again, reassuring.

“I want you on your back tonight.” You tell her, “Is that okay?”

She blinks up at you. Then she’s nodding, slow.

“Good girl.” You say, you lean down, press a kiss to her knee, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

She complies without a second thought. You slip in between her legs, placing her thighs on yours.

You can’t resist reaching down to brush your fingers over her clit. She looks so pretty like this. Spread wide for you, naked and wanting. She looks vulnerable, like she’s yours for the taking.

“You’re so beautiful.” You tell her, spread her thighs a little wider.

She bites her lip as you lean in a little, rub the head of the dildo through her folds.

She’s wet, wet enough for you to not need lube but you reach for it anyway. Pour a healthy helping into the dildo. She flinches slightly as the cold hits her warm heat. You apologize with a kiss.

You slip your tongue into her mouth, rub the head of the dildo against her clit. She sighs into your mouth.

“Inside.” She murmurs. “Please baby.”

You rub your hands over her thighs, soothe her as you slowly enter her.

“Fuck.” You gasp out as the edge of the strap-on brushes your clit. You sink in as far as you can physically get, until your hips are flush against the back of her thighs. She’s tight, tense against you. You kiss her, let her get used to the stretch of you.

Then, you gently jerk your hips forward. Her hands grip your arms, she shudders slightly as you sink back inside.

It’s not hard to see why she likes doing this to you so much.

You feel powerful, tilting your hips into her, knowing you’re the one inside her, making her feel so good. She’s a little breathier than usual. Her chest flushing red, biting her lips as you thrust into her. It’s addictive.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You murmur. She nods, eyes closed. You lean down, rub her clit.

“Tell me.”

“It feels good. Really good.” She says, her voice strangled. Higher than usual.

You pump your hips a little harder.

“I love it when you let me fuck you like this.” You murmur, lean down to press your body over hers. Pepper her neck with kisses, “You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.”

You grip her thighs, tilting your hips. The act itself was hot, but more than anything you knew she’d never let anyone else take control like this. The fact that she trusts you so much turns you on even more. You press down into her, fuck her a little harder.

She gasps.

You lose yourself a little. Your hips thrust hard, fucking her into the mattress. She’s all soft skin and quiet moans, her fingernails carving half moons into your back. You kiss her, a little sloppy, overwhelmed by the way she’s writhing under you.

Each thrust edges you a little closer. You suck on the base of her neck, reach down to rub her clit, needing her close.

“Fuck.” She moans, “I’m going to cum.”

Her back arches.

You pound into her a little harder, sending her careening off the edge. Her entire body tightens, nails clawing into you as you fuck her through her orgasm. Then, with one more thrust you join her, body tensing as you orgasm hard.

You heartbeat thrums. You press a kiss to her chest, feel her heart pound under your lips. Then you’re moving back up to her lips, taking her in a sweet kiss.

You lay on her a little longer, until she’s yawning sleepily, then withdraw yourself with a careful tug, and slip the straps off your waist.

You nestle yourself into her side, wrap a protective arm around her body.

“Thanks, baby.” You murmur, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She says.

Her eyes droop slightly.

She wakes herself up, tries to reach down your body.

“Go to sleep, babe.” You tell her, press one more kiss to her lips.

“What about you?”

“You already made me cum.” You tell her, you rub her leg, tug her into you. “Doing that.”

“What, just lying there?” She smiles, tilts her head into your chest.

“Laying there incredibly sexily.” You say. “Did you like that?”

She hums. Rubs her hand against your hips.

“Yes. More than I thought I would.” She says, a little shy.

“Good.” You say. Kiss her slow, “Because I want to do that again. And again. And again after that.”

“Hmm.” She says, “I might be okay with that.”

Next part

#ah #ghostface!tara #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #imagines #scream #jenna ortega #Jenna Ortega x reader

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songmingisthighs · 9 months

Text

Genesis Masterlist

fashion mogul!mingi × reader

starts : August 1st 2023 (KST), July 31st 2023 (author time)

status : completed

update : every day, 12.30 am KST

✨️ - written chapter

buy me coffee ?

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @kflixnet

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 1 year

Text

gust & flame - masterlist

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

--- takes place after the events in A Court of Silver Flames

🍁 Eris Vanserra x Reader

Chapter I || Chapter II || Chapter III || Chapter IV || Chapter V || Chapter VI || Chapter VII || Chapter VIII || Chapter IX || Chapter X || Chapter XI || Chapter XII || Chapter XIII || Chapter XIV || Chapter XV || Chapter XVI || Chapter XVII || Chapter XVIII || Chapter XIX || Chapter XX || Chapter XXI || Chapter XXII || Chapter XXIII || Chapter XXIV

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strungoutheart · 11 months

Text

SAFETY PINS AND BROKEN HEARTS

Sequel to Strung Out Heart, Angel Eyes by @amesliu

Pop-punk!Percy and Popstar!Annabeth

CW: Alcohol, Cigarette/smoking, implied smut (fade-to-black)

FAQ + navigation + lore masterlist

Masterlist

New chapters every other Sunday, 12PM PST.

Strung Out Heart, Angel Eyes (start here if you're new to sohae)

Prologue

I. The First

II. The Second

III. The Start

IV. The Place

V. The Third

VI. The Work

VII. The Fourth

VIII. The Set

IX. The In-Betweens I

X. The In-Betweens II

XI. The Splintering

XII. The Changing Room

XIII. The Breaking

XIV. The Shattering

XV. The Bruises

XVI. The Distance

XVII. The Space Between A Rock And A Hard Place

XVIII. The Patching

XIX. Luke Castellan

XX. The Mend

XXI. The Mend II

XXII. The Island

XXIII. The Island II

XXIV. The Island III

XXV. The Reintroduction

XXVI. The Past

XXVII. Calypso

XXVIII. The Dine-In

XXIX. The In-Betweens III

#soh2 #spbh #art #comic #webcomic #percabeth #pjo #hoo #fanart #fancomic #music au percabeth #music au art #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #jason grace #thalia grace #frank zhang #clarisse la rue

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