#stop letting them rotate in my mind

[lukazade]

Can't sleep have to say one last thing

This episode literally had a "sometimes closure is just letting something go" moment and I'm reeling about it I can't lie,,,, she didn't get "closure" with gummigoo when she saw him. She had to leave it at goodbye. You never get to see that rly, idk it was just nice. Some people just leave. It's not your right to force them to explain or bring things up that will open up a can of worms. Get closure by moving on without asking them for answers or to listen to you talk. Nobody is owing you their time or trauma, even when all you want to say is "sorry." Find it within yourself to close the door behind a person.

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinkbing about. him

[carbonateddelusion]

I have. Thoughts. I am going to explode with cartoonish sound effects that accompany my demise. play the juggalo step song at my funeral and make my old-ass relatives dance to it

[screampied]

boss at work and lovers in private w hiromi? He was very strict with the user at work and acts a bit rude/mean sometimes with reader.

But once they got home he fucks her nice and slow in bed as an apology for being mean at work <3

❤︎ ໋𓈒 higuruma who’s strictly mean in the workplace but makes sure to make it up to you at home.

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, unprotected, doggystyle, praise.

higuruma was a man who always took work seriously…

a workaholic if you will.

you always found yourself trying to tease him sometimes whenever he’d be working, and he’d just give you a glare. oftentimes, he’d be a bit stern and perhaps rude. although you couldn’t deny the bass in his tone whenever he spoke to you with such seriousness made you feel a bit…tingly.

just the rough rasp in his tone whenever he spoke directly to you, withholding intimate eye contact and telling you to stop fooling around and focus at the job at hand.

nevertheless, he did feel a bit bad, in fear that feasibly he was a bit too mean to his pretty baby. so he promises to make it up to you once the two of you get home. and that’s exactly what he does.

you couldn’t wait and neither could he. higuruma remained with his work clothes on, long black slacks pulled down briefly and the only sounds you could make out was the clanking of his belt. letting off a choked whine, you were willingly taking him from behind, and his touch..

higuruma stretches you out continuously with such ease, he’s got both of your wrists pinned behind your back before muttering, “i’m sorry baby. was i annoying you earlier?”

“y-yeah.” you moaned, feeling his tip brush right against that spot.

amorously, he slides a tongue across his lips while drilling into your cunt—you’re a stuttering mess. with a low chuckle departing from his lips, he hums.

“good,” and you bite your lip, his thrusts fulfilling you entirely. each sloppy hit that went against you time and time again, it left your mind completely dumbfounded. a quite perfect synonym to define your current state after all. “oh, don't whine all cute like that, y’know ‘m just teasing..”

higuruma’s words were so smooth and his tone was wholly soft spoken.

for a second, he dips his hips against you and you whimper, running your restrained fingers against his.

“god, you’re so pretty from behind. you know that, sweetheart?” his words went straight towards your pussy, that never failed to twitch on constant repeat. “such a perfect view. wish you could see for yourself, my love.”

“h-hirooo,” you’d mewl out, the right side of your cheek pressed down against the plump mattress. he knew just where to strike you with his dick, not too rough and not too soft.

just right. immensely, your toes curled each time he’d run his tip against your g-spot for a good two seconds, eliciting a loud moan from you. “fuck, f-fuck.”

“baby, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh?” he pokes fun, and you shiver once you feel the cold band of his watch trail against your skin. he presses a hand down your back, making you arch for him just a bit more and your eyes roll back yet again. “you’ve been pestering me at work all day, ‘s this what you wanted hm? wanted some attention—?”

the pleasures that pierced through your body was indefinable.

all you knew was that it felt so good, the way he pivots and smacks his hips softly against your ass, rolling and rotating them to where your head’s spinning like a merri go round.

“no,” you lied, and he huffs out a breath, grinning at you still having some brat left within you. once he deepens his thrusts for a short second, your mind pauses—you’re dumb, cock dumb if that even was a correct term for it, and you moan out. “y-yes.. you’re right, you were just so m-mean.”

he groans, feeling your slick start to stick against him throughout each movement he makes by rutting in and out of your greedy pussy.

“if i make you cum one more time, will that make up for it then, sweetheart?”

“m-mhm,” you’d nod, strings of your own spit falling against the sheets — oh, how much of a mess you were for him. only higuruma could have you like this, in this position. face nearly pushed against the mattress yet he’s presenting you with soft gentle thrusts. “make me cum, please hiromi.”

“pretty girl, you know i will,” he murmurs, and you let off a muffled moan once you bite your teeth into the pillow that remained underneath your chest. it was just the way his thickness dragged so easily against your folds. you could never get enough, his size had you drooling with such lewdness. “relax, don’t wanna strain that cute voice with all that moaning do ya?”

he watches you shake your head, and he chortles.

“sweet thing,” and his hips were so sensual against you, it was unfathomable to how good it made you feel. how good he made you feel. in the pit of your stomach—you felt something stirring, brewing up inside. butterflies perhaps, you pulsed between your thighs before he feels your leg start to jitter in utter anticipation. “ooh. ‘s coming isn’t it? you feel it too, my love?”

“r-right there,” you’d squeal, and by this particular point, your legs grew limp. his movements were unpredictable. higuruma’s jaw tightens as he’s balls deep, gawking at you clawing your nails down the white silkened sheets before bawling it up into the palms of your hands. “gonna c-cum, hiro. hiro.”

he slides a thumb against the corner of your back, maintaining a gentle tip against your hips before uttering in a husky voice, “yeah you are. c’mon baby. just let go for me. ‘s okay to be a little messy, yeah?”

“okay,” you’d babble, such thick inches that remained inside of you. your knees grew weak, he had such a grip against your waist that the pads of his thumbs pressed lightly down before caressing. higuruma always knew your most tenderest bits, the spots to drive you crazy. “h-hiro, ‘m cumming..”

a gasp exits from your mouth once you felt it, your entire body paused and juddered as a response.

your lips parted and the feeling made you grow quiet for a moment — ears, the very tips of them reaching such warmth of heat before you moan out his name once more. “t-thank you, thank you.”

“don’t thank me yet, gorgeous.” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against your back. “we aren’t done,” he says, and your legs still shook, sensitive before he turns you over to face him, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth. “i need more of you, and you need to be reminded of your place,” and his words were filled with such flirtatiousness yet was delivered so sweet. “so, just lie back and let me fond over this body just a little while longer.”

[foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland]

eyeliner in my eye call that. erm. ouchies. i am so incredibly cursed and i ammmm errr,heayah. dude stretch marsk r  sooo cool like its like my bodys givin me arrows to tell me like hey look i grew here and im liek well done Leg u did it. aweosmesauce

[pathologicalreid]

could we get Spencer Reid with a hypersexual reader that uses sex as a bad coping mechanism? 💕💕

don't look in the mirror | S.R.

seeking comfort in those you hold close, except there's a right way and a wrong way to do it

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (i think?) w/ mature themes (18+ mdni) content warnings: seeking comfort in sex, avoidance, mental health issues, spencer has those info dumps on lock, shame, self deprecation, reader hates her job (me too), blood as a metaphor, crying word count: 1.85k a/n: this is such an important topic and i'm so thankful for you asking me to write this!!!! i know this is a premise i've seen before, so i tried to make mine different. (im actually really proud of how this one turned out)

“Baby,” Spencer whispered in your ear, turning his head to the side as you left small, slow kisses on the exposed skin of his neck.

You hummed but refused to detach your lips from his soft skin, tugging gently at his shirt so that you could make your way down to his collarbone. He smelled like sunshine and the jet, an admittedly odd combo that did nothing to stop your movements down the column of his throat. His neck vibrated with sound, but none of his words registered, it all went in one ear and out the other.

His hand gently settled on the small of your back and you took a deep breath before you began pulling at the knot of his tie, “Y/N,” he muttered in a warning.

Your head snapped up at his tone, disappointed that you didn’t find the same want in his eyes that you knew was blazing in your own irises. Synapses in your brain were firing at lightning speed, and your heart was beating so quickly that it was like it was trying to keep up. “I missed you,” you whispered to him, allowing your eyes to flitter across his face.

Spencer settled his hands on your hips, firmly grabbing them in exactly the way you wanted, but instead of pulling you closer to him, he stilled their rotation.

Your heart stuttered.

“What happened?” He asked you tentatively, using the pads of his thumbs to rub soothing circles on your hips, trying to keep you from moving while giving you comfort. Despite the way you were sitting in his lap, Spencer still felt worlds away from you – if he was on Earth, you were in a different galaxy. 

Hesitantly, your lips parted, and you took a deep breath before shutting your mouth again, deciding you had nothing to say. While he’d been away, nothing significant had happened, everything in your life had trudged on exactly the way it always did. You went to work at the same job you’ve had since you got out of college with a boss who most certainly had it out for you, and you came home to an empty apartment with your phone volume all the way up, waiting for your boyfriend to call you. You really were pathetic, but you didn’t voice those concerns, instead, you answered, “Nothing happened,” the half-truth easily slid from your mouth. “Can’t I just have missed my boyfriend and want to spend quality time with him?”

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head back as his hair moved with him, “Stop, Y/N,” he said.

Without even realizing it, your hands had drifted down to his chest, and your hands were absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, “I didn’t…” you started to say, but your words faltered when you noticed the way he was looking at you. You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the rest of the world was still there as you tried to climb off of Spencer’s lap. “Let me go,” you insisted, hating how small your voice sounded as you pushed against him to no avail.

“I can’t let you go, not right now,” he told you, steadying his resolve as he watched you. You were staring at your hands like they were covered in blood, red-covered palms as you watched, horrified at the idea of them developing a mind of their own. It wasn’t as if your hands had suddenly become sentient entities, your heart and your brain were working against each other, fighting a silent, internal war. “Pick a spot for your hands, and just leave them there,” he whispered to you.

Your hands tremored as you settled them on either one of Spencer’s shoulders, “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” you mumbled, struggling to find the strength to enunciate your thoughts.

Spencer sighed, “Why don’t we take a minute, okay?” Delicately, he moved one hand from its station on your hip and moved it to cup your cheek, holding your face as if it were made of fine china. “What happened while I was gone, honey?”

His hand was wet on your face, or rather, your face was wet from tears that had started to trickle from your tear ducts. You furrowed your brows in frustration, “Why do you assume that something happened? Nothing happened while you were gone, why can’t you just let that be the answer?”

“Because it’s not the answer,” he insisted, dropping his hand back to your hip, continuing to stop you from getting up and moving away from him.

You scoffed, “Is it not the answer, or is it just not the answer you’re looking for, Spencer?”

“It’s not the answer, and I’m looking for the answer. You can tell me anything,” he urged, resuming his soothing movements over your hip.

As you watched his expression morph into a slight panic, you realized he was beginning to think something happened to you. With what he did for work, it was always in the back of his mind, you being in danger of being hurt by other people but what he rarely considered was the idea of you being a danger to yourself. “Nothing happened, okay? Absolutely nothing happened to me while you were gone and everything in the world stayed exactly the fucking same. I went to work every day and I came home and sat around while I waited for you to call, I waited for you to come home and now you won’t even touch me.”

Your tears kept coming, leaving saline stains on his gray shirt as your head spun and his movements stopped. “Work was bad?” He asked softly, using his fingertips to wipe beneath your eyes. He knew about your issues at work, he had been encouraging you to leave the job for months, but you were convinced that a promotion was coming. “You shouldn't have to be miserable every time you go to work.”

“Not everyone gets to be hand-picked for a top job at twenty-one. Some people have to work shitty jobs to make ends meet,” you snapped at him, nostrils flaring angrily.

He didn’t answer right away, you became hyperaware of the pounding of your heart as you waited for his response. As you waited for him to kick you out. “I told you that I’d support you if you wanted to go back to school. I meant it, Y/N,” he told you, brown eyes flooded with concern. “You can leave your job and pursue your dream, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, baby.” Spencer leaned back against the couch cushions, “I can’t help you until you help yourself, love.”

Slouching your shoulders, you felt your eyes starting to line with tears again, “It feels so unfair to have you shoulder more responsibility so that I can go back to school.”

“No,” he said, “What’s not fair is you lying to me and then trying to avoid it with sex. I asked you how your week had been, and you either didn’t care to answer me or you have such bad tunnel vision that you didn’t even hear me.” He gently chided, giving you time to drown in the blatant concern in his eyes, “and what’s worse is you never told me it was this bad.”

You averted your eyes, focusing your gaze on the chessboard behind him as you thought about your next move. In one fell swoop, he could checkmate you, completely catch you off guard, and tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear. Alternatively, you could sacrifice yourself for his benefit, “I hate my job. My boss is making it impossible for me to make any positive stride, and that’s on top of him being a misogynistic douche.” You flexed your hands where they remained on Spencer’s shoulders and sighed, “And yes, I miss you when you’re gone. Yes, I lied to you about it, but what would you do about it? Leave your big important job because your girlfriend is lonely?”

He craned his head to the side, silently encouraging you to make eye contact with him, “I’d hope that you’d feel comfortable enough to tell me how you’re feeling so that we could work something out – we can talk through this. It’s a two-way street though, you have to talk to me. I can make an effort to call and text more if you promise me, you’ll make an effort to communicate with me.”

Slowly, you started to nod, “I… I can do that, but you hate texting,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows curiously.

“I’ll get over it,” he reassured you, studying your features, “You’re worth it,” he added.

Finally, you pulled your arms back, hugging them around yourself protectively, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “I don’t know why I am… the way that I am.”

Spencer took a deep breath before giving you a look that told you he had an inkling, “You’re unhappy, with me or the world, it doesn’t matter, but you think the solution to your displeasure comes in the form of an orgasm and that’s just not the answer, honey.”

You hiccupped and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself like you could make yourself smaller, “I still don’t know why though.”

“You’re seeking the rush, not necessarily the act of sex itself, you want the dopamine and oxytocin rush that comes with an orgasm. Your brain convinces yourself that it’s what you need because when you get unhappy like this, all you can focus on is how to feel better and fast,” he spoke to you gently – he knew this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to hear. “It’s brief, and it’s just for that moment, and your brain might even recall how your parasympathetic nervous system shuts down after you come, and your body gets tired. You get a rush of serotonin, and you relax enough to convince yourself that it'll be okay, but you need to find something more permanent. I’ll help you.”

Your arms fell limply at your sides, “Do you think I’m broken?”

The small smile he gave you was enough of an answer, “No, in fact, I know you’re not broken.” Tenderly, he reached out and unwound your arms from around your torso, “And since I know you won’t stop thinking about it, I do still find you attractive.” Spencer studied your face, “Where do you want to start?”

“Do you want to help me draft a letter of resignation?” You offered, giving Spencer a shy smile.

He hummed in response, “Yeah, in a bit.” Your boyfriend reached his hands out to you, now being the one who pulled you close, “Come here, darling.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around your torso, “I missed you,” you mumbled, entirely deflating your lungs as you let yourself relax.

Spencer reached up, ruffling your hair with one hand and keeping another on the small of your back as he sighed with you, “I missed you too.”

[intoanotherworld23]

Peaches And Cream

Summary: Joel loves the taste of you, and you love being his favorite dessert

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk

A/N: if anyone wishes to be added to my Pedro/or Joel tag list please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you. Heart, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and supportive. Thanks! XOXO

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Joel. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.

“I’ve never seen you cum so much sweetheart.” Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. “You did so good for me baby.”

That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn’t want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.

“Let me see those pretty eyes.” His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.

“Joel.” Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.

“Whadda you need pretty girl?” He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.

Joel knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.

“Fuck me baby girl look at you.” Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That’s exactly what he did too.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

“Oh god.” Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Joel looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Joel could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

“Tastes like peaches baby girl.” His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.

Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Joel, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.

“Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn’t I?” His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Joel already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

“So proud of you my sweet peach.” His nickname had you smiling as Joel pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. “I’m not done with you yet though baby girl.”

[smoft-demons]

Hey, I've been reading your post for a while now andi absolutely love them. Before I got into OM I was already a big D&D person and love fantesty-romance novels. Although, that's besides the point. I was genuinely scared to ask this until I saw your headcanons, there so wholesome<3

But I was wondering if you could do a brothers + the others react to MC getting there period? I was planning on doing it on my own page but I'm a bit scared to publish my own stuff. Although, thank you if you do.

-H.M

Yeah, sure! As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I love writing all the comfort and fluff prompts. It’s like catnip to me lmao

This is gonna be pretty long, so I’m only gonna do the brothers.

Thanks for requesting!! I hope you like it :)

_______

MC is on their period

_______

You’ve been living in the House of Lamentation for a while now. You are, at this point, thoroughly and inextricably part of the family.

As a member of their family, your demons have no problem with helping you out. They can’t help but fawn over you a bit, as well—this wasn’t a familiar problem to them before meeting you, as none of them menstruate. Plus, any human condition of yours that highlights vulnerability and pain on your part makes them all get a tad protective.

In any case, they make sure to be helpful!

_______

Lucifer: responsibility -> rest

With your permission, Lucifer notes your cycle on the calendar he keeps on the kitchen wall. Tactfully, of course. It’s just a little red X in the corner of the box that marks the day you start until the day it ends. It ensures no one in the house forgets to be extra nice to you on those days. Plus, it serves as a way to remind you, in case it sneaks up on you.

In the week leading up to it, he checks up on your stock of human world products (and devildom ones too) for it. Painkillers, chocolate, tea, hygiene products, a heating pad, everything. If you’re running low, he will either take you to get more or take care of it himself, depending on how you’re feeling.

If you’re irregular, he takes extra care with tracking your cycle. Having records is important!

He takes you off the chore rotation while you’re bleeding. He wants you to rest. He will not make you expend your energy on chores while you’re in pain.

If you WANT to take some chores though, he understands and will let you, as long as you don’t make yourself suffer unnecessarily. He understands that some people cope worse with stress, illness, and/or pain when their routine is interrupted and they have no task to distract themself with. He would know! He’s one of them! So if you are too, he won’t force you to give up your tasks.

He does very strictly instruct you not to push yourself, however. You are to let him know immediately if you need to stop, so he or one of his brothers can help you out.

If you want somewhere quiet to hide, he’s got you. His study is a great spot for that! He won’t let anyone else in.

His room is another great spot for that, if you want a softer surface and dimmer lighting. You’re allowed to be in there without him if that ends up working out best (and he hopes you understand the level of trust in you he’s displaying by allowing that), but he has no problem with bringing his work out of the study and into his room if you want his company.

If he’s not on a time crunch, he won’t bother bringing any work with him though. Unless he has reason to expect you to feel guilty for taking up his time, in which case he will bring some and finish it in the room with you and then tell you he’s done for the day.

You end up lying on his bed with him, contorted in whatever weird position makes your cramps hurt the least. It’s the middle of the day, but for once Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just lying next to you with his hand splayed over your uterus or lower back, applying light pressure and warmth to help the pain go away. Quietly talking to you about stuff that doesn’t matter.

There’s no concern for productivity. Nor for terrorizing his brothers into order. It seems the key for making Lucifer take a day to just relax is to request his company while you’re in pain.

See, Lucifer’s driving force is how much he loves his family. He will go to ANY lengths to keep them safe and happy. It’s his main priority. You’re part of his family now. You’re the youngest, even… and you’re in pain. So, he’s okay with pushing off the work Diavolo gives him for a day. For you, it’s worth it.

There’s no paperwork in any realm that he would prioritize over comforting you when you’re in pain. He hopes you feel all the love in that sentiment.

You know how huge a declaration that action is, because there is NO other way to get Lucifer to voluntarily lie around in the middle of the day.

_______

Mammon: devotion -> generosity

Mammon was the first one you went to for help during your very first period in the Devildom.

After a short, frantic conversation about what happened to you, why, and how you normally deal with this, he set you up in his room with some towels, a spare set of his own comfortably worn in clothes, and a movie as he rushed out to find some Devildom substitute for the hygiene products you’re used to. Just, SOMETHING to absorb the blood in the meantime before he can get you products from the human world!

He would have gone to the human world immediately, but he’s not allowed and he doesn’t have time to talk Lucifer into letting him up there yet!! You have NOTHING to work with right now, he’s gotta figure something out ASAP!

He didn’t even think about the amount of money he’s willing to spend, or how else he could be using it. He may not have been willing to tell you how much he cares for you at that point, but he has always come through for you when it matters. Even in the early days.

You find yourself contemplating Mammon’s contrasting demeanour while he’s out. This isn’t the first demonstration of his responsible mode that you’ve seen. It’s fascinating, the way he acts so careless and tsundere until someone needs him—at which point he drops that image like it’s nothing, revealing the softhearted and protective big brother he really is.

In those moments, you can see in his personality that he helped raise 5 little brothers (and one Lilith, though you don’t learn about her until later) and is actually pretty damn good at it. It’s clear that he loves you more than he’s willing to admit in those rare moments, when showing it genuinely matters.

Anyway. He came home with an assortment of items for you. No medicine yet because he doesn’t trust that Devildom painkillers won’t harm you, but he brought a BUNCH of snacks, and a collection of things that can be used to absorb the blood for now, until he can get Lucifer to let him go get the stuff you normally use from the human world. You can take your pick.

He even commissioned an enchanter to make you a custom heating pad, because he doesn’t trust the ones meant for demons to not burn your skin. He didn’t think about the price. Frankly, he doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll remember to complain about it to save face later. Maybe.

His main concern—making sure you’re okay—left no room to think of that in that moment. He waves off your concern about bloodstains on the stuff he lent you before he went out. Being reassuring in his usual irreverent way, saying something about how he’s a demon, and demons don’t tend to be squeamish about blood. Hell if he cares, he says.

While you’re in the bathroom washing up and dealing with the bleeding (with a SECOND set of Mammon’s worn-in, comfy clothes that he put in your hands before shoving you into the bathroom, not giving you a second to refuse), Mammon is texting Lucifer to find a way to get you proper period supplies from the human world.

When you come back to him, he tells you that you’ll have what you need before you go to bed, but in the meantime you should sit, because he’s putting on another movie.

He watches you shift around uncomfortably over the next few minutes. Cramps, you know. You’re not exactly comfortable sitting the way you are. Without a word, he pulls you to lie down with your head resting on his leg. He’s looking away from you, indistinctly mumbling something about “so lucky I’m lookin’ after ya” and “what would ya do without the great Mammon” and “MY human, damn it” as he carefully rubs tension out of your back.

“What was that?” You ask him.

“Shut up an’ watch the damn movie!” He splutters.

You stay like that until Lucifer shows up with your requested items. Pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, painkillers, whatever it is you asked for.

Later that night, as Mammon persists in rubbing your back as another movie plays, you find that your trust in him is stronger than it has ever been before. You understand exactly why Mammon is the best demon to be in charge of your well-being. Lucifer chose him for a reason, and it’s impossible to miss. Mammon is so damn caring under the tsundere façade.

You feel so loved. You ARE so loved. The pain fades away under the warmth of his hands. His lap makes a good pillow, and Mammon makes a great guardian.

(Every month after this, he leaves his door open for you in case you want a distraction from the pain. He’s ready with snacks and a movie. He’ll happily do this for you every time.)

_______

Levi: passion -> gentleness

Whatever it is that Levi notices first—be it the blood, the worse mood, the regular time spent with Mammon every month—he freaks out. He’s like “AAAAWTF WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ARE YOU DYING???” Or like “oh noooo are you mad at me why are you randomly sad do you hate me now??” Or like “why can’t you reschedule with Mammon and do this time limited event with me, do you not wanna play with me anymore???”

Either way, bro is suffering.

Eventually, either you or one of his older brothers explains to him, and he feels bad. He didn’t mean to stress you out worse! Also, periods are real?? He thought it was just some creative plot point in the occasional anime! That’s crazy, why are humans built like that??

Anyway. Levi’s nothing if not passionate, and he’s gonna turn some of that passion towards finding ways to make you more comfortable.

He will find a way to order all the human world snacks you crave while you’re bleeding. He will be on the lookout for gifts, like games and merch and manga you’d want. He stockpiles them so he always has something ready to cheer you up when you need that.

He will even do his best to redirect the envy he feels towards Mammon and his established routine of movies and snacks in his room with you lying in his lap and getting free back rubs on the first day of your period each month. He wants that to be him, damn it! But he’s not gonna disrupt that for you.

He WILL claim hanging out with you on your day 2 though, AND will fill in every time if Mammon’s not available. The only thing that can beat out his shyness at the idea of having you using his lap as a pillow is the raging envy at knowing MAMMON gets to have that every month!

(Eventually, once you figure out that Levi wants to be invited so bad, you just invite him. It’s not like you don’t want him there! He’s very happy to sit next to you with your legs in his lap while he ignores Mammon’s stupid movie and plays a game on his phone. It’s nice to have two demon pillows. This one’s got built-in cooling!)

Levi understands not wanting to deal with lights and noise and craziness when you’re in pain. He will prevent any of his brothers from bringing any of that around you with all the determination and passion he brings to everything he cares about.

He is remarkably gentle, for someone who is usually so excitable. So considerate! You can see in the way he forces everyone to only argue over text, in the gentle movement of cool, nimble hands over sore calves and hips and ankles, in the presentation of snacks and gifts determinedly brought to you from the human world, how much he cares about you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

_______

Satan: research -> comfort

The first order of business for nerd boy here is, of course, research. He is gathering information from all his relevant contacts—every human sorcerer and witch he knows, every demon with a pact-bonded menstruating human they care about AND the aforementioned human, every healer, medical researcher, librarian…

Yeah, he’s gonna end up knowing more about it than you do.

He comes back home after a few days, mumbling about human endocrine systems and nutrition and medical malpractice of menstruating patients and the mechanics of blood production and every phase of a menstrual cycle and how pain works on a chemical level. He’s got notebooks and everything. He’s got the whole history of menstruation since the beginning of humanity summarized in one of those notebooks.

… Maybe it’s a bit overkill. But you know how he gets when he’s curious, especially about something that hurts you! He’s gotta know everything!

So now he’s infodumping to you about every symptom you mention. If you’re the sort of person who finds that interesting and helpful, perfect! If you’re not… well, he won’t be offended if you get mad at him for effectively mansplaining your own body to you. Demon-splaining? Whatever, either way he will take that correction with grace and only tell you information you directly ask for. He’s learned enough about menstruation to be very sympathetic and patient while you’re in the middle of it. It seems awful to him, and he’s not about to make it worse!

He’s wise enough to know that he should ask before ACTING on any of that information though. He won’t try to optimize your nutrition or your painkillers or anything unless you ask him to. He knows that would be too far. He’s not prideful enough to override you like that, he’s not Lucifer.

If you get really angry when you bleed, he’s got you! He understands, he encourages you to yell and rant in front of him all you want. Throw around some destructive spellwork or just break stuff if you need to, he’s got a room for that. It’s all good!

Satan is so good with practical comfort. He’s big on venting for your health and sanity. He knows what buttons not to push, they’re obvious to him as wrath incarnate.

Of course, he’ll also give you hugs and drive off his crazy brothers if you need peace. He’ll bring you to the cats when you get sick of people. He’ll find you any answer you need. If your cycle is irregular or in any way atypical, there’s no better demon to have searching for answers for you—and he’d NEVER let no medical malpractice happen to you. Doctors are GOING to take you seriously, damn it!

To him, there’s no such thing as too much hassle to help someone he loves so much as he loves you.

_______

Asmo: luxury -> selflessness

As the Avatar of Lust, there’s no way Asmo doesn’t know the basics of how menstrual cycles work. No way. Even if demons don’t get them, it’s relevant to his whole domain.

Asmo’s got you. He’s gonna spoil the hell out of you. Massages with fancy oils, hot baths with magic muscle relaxant products added, masks to prevent any skin issues from fluctuating hormones, everything he can think of.

If anyone even tries to make you do anything you don’t want to, he will destroy them. This is a time for rest, he insists!

He relishes any opportunity to relax with you, have a self-care day, just chill and recharge together… but he’s prioritizing you. You get to see the rare responsible Asmo during this time! If you have non-negotiable responsibilities, he’s helping you. He wants you to get done faster!

He’s actually got a pretty great strategic mind when he’s incentivized to use it! He’s so efficient! Only because he wants you to be in his room relaxing as fast as possible, but it’s totally there!

At the end of it all, it’s completely possible that he forgets about spoiling himself too, just because he got so focused on trying to take as much of your pain away as possible. It’s wild that he doesn’t think he has any capacity for selflessness. Good thing you know better.

_______

Beel: perceptiveness -> caring

Beel smells the blood. Immediately. At first he’s concerned but minds his own business, trusting that Mammon’s taking care of you. But after you’ve pacted with him? Not anymore.

Beel becomes your warning system. He will notify you as soon as the hormonal shift starts to happen. Days before you even start bleeding.

You know it’s because he cares, and that he can’t avoid noticing the change in your scent whether he wants to or not. You choose not to think it’s weird.

He gets worried once he learns about what happens to you every month. His first priority is making sure he doesn’t eat everything that’s high in iron, folic acid, vitamin C and D, and omega-3s. All very good for you when you’re on your period. He makes sure that stuff remains available to you.

He invites you to exercise with him too, because he heard that can be helpful. He won’t STOP you from lifting if that’s what you want to do, but HE is choosing to focus on stretching and moderate cardio for now (stuff that should be more helpful for you) and if you want to join him, well… that’s what he’s doing. What do you mean he changed it on purpose? He just felt like yoga and a nice jog today! Don’t think about it too hard!

Beel is actually the best one to go to for massages. Sure, Asmo knows what feels good and he’s phenomenal at that. True. But Beel is the one who understands every muscle and tendon in a body, so if you want a full, functional reset, in which all the tension and soreness in you gets methodically, optimally pressed out, you go to Beel. It might not feel quite as nice—in fact it might hurt a fair bit—but it’ll be so effective. You will have no pain at all after. Plus, he’ll teach you stretches to prevent some of that tension coming back later, too. He’s so helpful.

_______

Belphie: laziness -> service

We all know Belphie is the number one advocate for rest. He will encourage you to sleep through as much of it as possible. Why would you want to be awake to experience pain? Screw that. He will actively keep you asleep as long as possible—unless you tell him in advance that there has to be limits so you don’t bleed on everything you’re touching. Even so, he doesn’t quite see the problem. He’s a demon, he’s not squeamish about blood. What biohazard?

But no, he’ll respect that. If he’s a lil shit about it, all you have to do is pull the “remember that time you killed me” card and he’ll do whatever you want lol

In the biggest twist of irony since The Incident, Belphie actually finds himself serving as your alarm clock. It has to be him, you see, because he insists on sleeping next to you. He wants to be there to ensure you sleep through the night, and don’t ever get woken up by cramps. So it’s gotta be him to wake you up when it’s absolutely necessary. Because you see, he does not trust anyone else to understand what’s absolutely necessary. Only someone who loves sleep as much as him gets it, he insists.

Belphie is nothing if not lazy. Obviously. But… he’s actually voluntarily doing work on your behalf?? He’s concealing bloodstains on your sheets from you so you don’t feel uncomfortable, and washing them for you. He isn’t even telling you about that, so he isn’t even getting any thanks for it! How very kind and un-demonic of him!

(Of course, he’s mostly doing it because he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed and stop sleeping next to him while you’re on your period. He’s got selfish reasons. But… really, it’s not very selfish at all when you look at how that benefits you too. How could he be so surprised to hear that you think he can be kind and sweet when he wants to be? How’s he not seeing it??)

He may deny that he’s actually a sweetie, but you know the truth. When sloth incarnate is voluntarily doing secret chores for you, you KNOW he loves you. It might as well be spilling out of his soul, it’s so undeniable.

_______

You’re bleeding. It’s miserable. No one likes their period. It’s made much more bearable for you, however, now that you have this ridiculous family falling over themselves to make your life easier. All the pain, all the hormonal fuckery, all the bullshit your body puts you through is… well, actually quite tolerable when you’re loved this much.

[callsigns-haze]

I love your Tyler stuff! I have so many ideas in my head I just suck at writing lol

Could you write something where tyler and reader are married and They are out filming having a good time there and the reader who normally rides in the front seat with tyler switched to go with Lilly last second so javi could join tyler and the tornado shifted out of nowhere and reader and Lilly were right in the path. Reader gets hurt from the the car flipping over and it takes awhile for the rest of the crew to find them and the whole time tyler is freaking out and almost in tears. They finally find them and you can end it how you want.

Not so cruising

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: During a storm chase, Y/N and Lilly are caught in a tornado after a last-minute seat swap, leading to a harrowing rescue by Tyler and the team, with Y/N injured but eventually safe.

Chapter Warning: Intense storm danger, car accident, and graphic descriptions of injuries.

The open road stretched out under the vast Oklahoma sky, the sun dipping low on the horizon as Y/N and Tyler cruised along, the truck’s engine humming steadily. The storm they’d been tracking all day was finally forming, and the anticipation in the air was electric. This was the thrill that had brought them together—two storm chasers with a passion for capturing nature’s most powerful and unpredictable displays.

Y/N normally rode shotgun with Tyler, the two of them an unstoppable team. But today, their crew had grown with the addition of Javi, an old friend and fellow chaser. Y/N noticed Lilly, their new meteorologist, looking a bit tense in the backseat. She decided to switch things up.

“You know what, Ty?” Y/N said with a grin. “I think I’ll keep Lilly company in the other car. Javi can ride with you.”

Tyler glanced over, surprised, but nodded. “Sure, if that’s what you want. Just be careful, okay?”

Y/N leaned in for a quick kiss before hopping out and heading over to the other SUV where Lilly was prepping her equipment. Javi climbed into the front seat of Tyler’s truck, the two men exchanging a few words before pulling away to follow the storm.

Y/N slid into the passenger seat next to Lilly, who smiled gratefully. “Thanks for joining me. I was feeling a little out of my depth with this one.”

“No problem,” Y/N replied, fastening her seatbelt. “Let’s go catch this beast.”

As they sped down the road, the sky above them began to churn. The storm had grown rapidly, dark clouds swirling ominously as lightning flashed in the distance. The radio crackled with updates from Tyler and Javi, who were just ahead, urging everyone to stay alert.

“We’ve got rotation,” Tyler’s voice came over the radio. “It’s starting to drop. Be ready to reposition.”

Lilly’s hands tightened on the wheel as she drove, following the lead vehicle closely. Y/N could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins—the thrill of the chase, the anticipation of capturing something incredible.

But as they continued, the storm suddenly shifted, the tornado’s path veering unexpectedly. Y/N looked up, her eyes widening in horror as she realized the funnel was now headed directly toward them.

“Lilly, we need to move!” Y/N shouted, her voice edged with urgency.

Lilly swerved, trying to steer the SUV out of the tornado’s path, but it was too late. The powerful winds hit them with full force, lifting the vehicle off the ground. The world outside became a blur of chaos as the SUV flipped over, tumbling violently. Y/N felt a searing pain as she was thrown against the door, her vision going dark for a moment before everything went still.

Tyler’s heart stopped when he heard the crash over the radio. Javi, sensing the gravity of the situation, immediately tried to raise Y/N and Lilly, but there was no response. Tyler’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

“Y/N, Lilly—do you copy? Y/N!” Tyler’s voice was thick with fear, almost breaking. When there was no answer, panic clawed at his chest.

“Ty, we have to go back!” Javi urged, his voice tense. “They could be in serious trouble.”

Tyler didn’t need convincing. He whipped the truck around, tires screeching on the wet pavement, and gunned it back toward where Y/N and Lilly had been. The wind howled around them, debris flying across the road as the storm raged on.

Minutes felt like hours as they raced against the tornado, Tyler’s mind filled with images of Y/N hurt—or worse. He could barely breathe, the fear suffocating him. He’d never felt so helpless, the thought of losing her driving him to the brink of despair.

Finally, they spotted the overturned SUV in a field, half-buried in mud and debris. The tornado had moved on, leaving behind a path of destruction, but Tyler’s focus was solely on the wrecked vehicle and the two people inside.

He barely registered Javi’s voice as they jumped out of the truck and ran to the SUV. Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he frantically yanked at the door, which was jammed from the impact. With Javi’s help, they managed to pry it open, revealing a grim scene inside.

Lilly was conscious, dazed but moving. She was bruised and shaken but seemed otherwise okay. Y/N, however, was slumped against the door, her face pale and a gash on her forehead bleeding steadily. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he reached out, his hands trembling.

“Y/N… Y/N, please…” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as he gently cupped her face.

She stirred at his touch, her eyelids fluttering open. “Tyler…?”

Relief flooded through him so intensely that he almost collapsed. “I’m here, baby. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

Javi was already on the phone with emergency services, coordinating their location. Tyler carefully unbuckled Y/N and pulled her from the wreckage, holding her close as she winced in pain.

“Just hang on, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “Help’s on the way.”

She leaned against him, too weak to speak, but she clung to his hand as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Tyler could feel his tears welling up, but he held them back, focusing on keeping Y/N conscious and calm.

Lilly, despite her own injuries, managed to climb out of the SUV with Javi’s help. She was shaken but coherent, and she sat down on the grass beside Y/N, checking her over with what first-aid knowledge she had.

“Tyler,” Lilly said softly, her voice filled with sympathy. “She’s going to be okay. You got here in time.”

Tyler nodded, though the lump in his throat made it hard to speak. He didn’t trust himself to say anything without breaking down completely. Instead, he just held Y/N tightly, whispering reassurances and promises that everything would be okay.

The sound of approaching sirens was a welcome relief, and soon, paramedics were there, carefully taking Y/N from Tyler’s arms and loading her onto a stretcher. Tyler refused to leave her side, climbing into the ambulance with her, his hand never leaving hers.

As the ambulance sped toward the hospital, Tyler finally allowed himself to breathe. Y/N was alive, and she was going to get the care she needed. The fear that had gripped him so tightly began to ease, replaced by an overwhelming gratitude that they had found her in time.

Hours later, after what felt like an eternity in the hospital waiting room, Tyler was allowed to see Y/N. She was resting in a hospital bed, her head bandaged and her arm in a sling, but when she saw him, she managed a small, tired smile.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice weak but full of warmth.

Tyler moved to her side, sitting down and taking her hand in his. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she admitted, wincing slightly. “But I’ll be okay. They said nothing’s broken, just a lot of bruises and a concussion.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes brimming with tears he could no longer hold back. “I was so scared, Y/N. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

She squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in a comforting gesture. “I’m still here, Ty. Thanks to you.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the day’s events settling over them. But now, in the safety of the hospital, with Y/N by his side, Tyler felt an immense sense of relief. They had faced the storm, and though they had come out battered and bruised, they were still together.

“I love you,” Tyler whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, her voice soft but sure. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

As they held each other close, the storm outside finally began to calm, the winds dying down as the skies cleared. The danger had passed, and now, all that mattered was that they were safe, together, and ready to face whatever came next—side by side.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[wooziorgans]

hey s2 soooo i was thinking about something and i know that you are the one to do this

woozi hasn't had the opportunity to eat you out yet, you've already done a lot but as you never mentioned it he thought you didn't want to or weren't comfortable yet, so one day when you're making out and he's starting to get horny he whispers "sit on my face" and now its up to you

k byeeee

— face sitting

good god. why do you always,,,,, do this. i love ur brain but also why god why me. also sorry this took me so long,,,, we r not gonna talk abt it.

you’ve been with jihoon for a few months, and in those few months, you’ve learned more about him than you did in the years of friendship. you know that he likes to eat, and he eats well, given the pure amount of muscle on him. you know that, while he says he’s not big on skin-ship, it’s a lie. one look from you, and he’s opening his arms to cuddle.

you know he loves his friends with his entire heart, and is willing to give them as much as he can in terms of support. you know he likes to go for walks late at night when he can’t sleep, or when he wants to simply enjoy some time outside with his thoughts.

what you’ve learned has been on the complete opposite of the spectrum. you know that jihoon likes to give, but this also extends to the bedroom. he’ll spend hours working you up, teasing you and then fucking you with his fingers before finally sinking his cock into you. he has this super human ability to make you cum, and he uses it to his advantage.

you’ve learned he likes getting head, but he’d much rather fuck you. you’ve learned that he’s a sensual kisser; he lets it linger before giving you anything solid to build off of. he makes you chase his lips, teasing you endlessly when you have the time.

you’ve also learned that his frustration with his job manifests itself sexually. he’ll perfectly service dom you through multiple orgasms as a way to relieve his stress. sometimes he’ll just pull you onto his lap and kiss you stupid until you’re grinding against his thigh, desperate for something more.

you love giving him head though, but he seems to be completely indifferent towards doing the same to you. it’s a little confusing, considering how much he seems to use his tongue in other ways with you. you know he’s skilled with his mouth, that much is evident from the way he kisses and sings.

today is just one of those days where jihoon wasn’t able to burn off enough steam at the gym. he’s frustrated over a moved deadline the company gave him, now having to work twice as hard to get things done. you finished work early, and jihoon invited you over to hang out.

you can tell from the lines on his face that you’ll be doing more than just ‘hanging out’, but it’s not like you mind. jihoon pulls you into his bed, the television in his room on. you’re cushioned in between his thick thighs, wrapped safely in his arms when he starts peppering soft kisses to your neck.

it makes you shiver, hands grabbing at his arms before you decide to rotate to straddle his thighs. jihoon rests his hands on your hips, pulling you close and in for a kiss. you return it eagerly, hands finding the sides of his face.

jihoon’s hands start wandering, pushing their way under your hoodie to graze the skin of your back. his tongue slips its way into your mouth, and you moan softly. this seems to do something to jihoon, and his hand slips down to grope your ass.

you make out for god knows how long, hips moving against each others as you kiss. jihoon seems to just drink in all of the small sounds you make, hands moving around to grab and squeeze whatever he can reach.

it all comes to fruition when you stop being able to kiss him, whining into his mouth as you grind on his thigh. “fuck, sit on my face.” jihoon whispers, pulling away for a second to just watch you take what you need from him. you stop immediately, pulling back further to look at him.

“sorry, what did you say?” you blink a few times at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“if you don’t want to, that’s okay. you’ve never really given me anything that suggested you’d be into that.” he back tracks immediately, face reddening as he realizes he said that out loud.

“no, repeat yourself. what did you say?” your hand brushes the side of his neck and he shivers, knowing he can’t get out of this.

“um, sit on my face?” it’s a question this time. his hesitancy makes you laugh softly as you brush his hair out of his face.

“god, jihoon,” you sigh softly, already dripping at the idea of him being tongue deep inside of you. “you’re sure?” you ask, fingers threading in his hair. he hums softly.

“yeah, fuck. wanna eat you out so bad, baby.” he coos, almost condescending as his hands grab at your sweatpants. you let him pull them down, underwear going with them. you shift off his lap to kick them off and jihoon takes the opportunity to slide down the bed so he’s lying down.

with your bottom half now exposed, you straddle his lap again, arousal seeping into his own sweats. he’s painfully hard in his sweats, cock straining against the fabric. he hisses when you sink down before his hands find you ass again.

he pulls you up, and you wiggle your way up the bed until you’re over his chest. “how do you want me?” you ask, unsure of if he wants you to face him or turn the other way.

“just like this is fine.” jihoon hums, pulling you closer to his face. he starts to tease your folds with two fingers, gathering your arousal with his fingers before he pushes them inside. you’re already wet enough for them to just slide in.

you moan at the intrusion, his other hand firm on your hips to keep you from moving. jihoon fucks them in and out of you slowly, watching the way you suck his digits in. he pulls them out after a few seconds, using both hands to pull you down onto his face.

jihoon sticks his tongue out, licking a long stripe over your folds. you react immediately at the warmth and wetness of his tongue, shivering as you let out a low moan. jihoon does it again, tongue gathering your arousal to pull it into his mouth. he moans softly, already completely in love with the way you taste.

jihoon’s nose brushes against your clit, and you jerk harshly, hands finding their spot in his hair. you smooth it out, moving it out of the way. he licks another stripe up your fold, this time stiffening his tongue to go deeper. his lips latch around your clit, suctioning to it and flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

jihoon focuses his attention on your clit, alternating different kinds of suction and patterns with his tongue to figure out what works. he brings his hand back up to your ass, kneading the skin softly before he pushes two fingers back inside of you.

it’s too much, all at once. the small noises he makes as he eats you out, the lewd, wet noises coming from his mouth, and his fingers pressing into your spot send you over the edge. you tighten your grip in his hair, head leaning against the headboard as you gasp out a warning.

jihoon keeps his pace steady on your clit as you cum, before he pulls his fingers out and laps at your release. it drips down his chin, but he can’t stop, even after you start to squirm in overstimulation.

you lift your hips up off his face before shifting to lay down beside him. jihoon pulls you into a kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. you whine into his mouth, hands grabbing at his cock through the fabric of his sweats.

jihoon pulls away, “give yourself a minute to breathe, love.” he coos. you nod, pushing your head against his chest. he strokes your hair softly, massaging your scalp. your hands still push their way under his sweats and into his boxers.

jihoon hisses softly. “you’re insatiable.” he moans, a breathy laugh falling from his lips.

“you started it.” you murmur, craning your head up to kiss his neck. maybe he did. either way, it’s gonna be a long night. especially with what you’ve just learned about your boyfriend.

[blitzyn]

a different method final pt

teacher!zhongli x m!reader

request: drop by to ask will there ever be a chance for part 3 with teacher zhongli? i dont know man. him and reader are so cute together. maybe i am crazy??? wanna see reader actually tries his best and gets his reward-

part one | part two

a/n -> oh my god i need francis mosses and wriothesley to fuck me right this INSTANT

wc -> 4k

cw -> praise, anal fingering, anal sex, mating press, desk sex, semi-public sex, teacher zhongli, student reader, not beta read

You were nervous. Jitters ran along the length of your spine and pooled in your chest, leaving a deep cavity that filled with anxiety. Why were you so anxious in the first place? It’s just a test. You’ve taken plenty of them during the course of your life.

You tried to play it cool, masking your face with a facade of nonchalance, hoping no one could see how clammy your hands were getting or your heartbeat, or the sweat rolling down—oh god was someone looking at you? Could they see through you? What if they could read your mind? Did they know that you were secretly trying to get your teacher to fuck you again?

You forced to stop yourself from physically deflating in relief when they looked away. Seemed like they were just looking around the room in an attempt to search for a hint or an answer to the question they were on. Right. The test. You’d finished it not too long ago, and now you were in the overthinking stage, wondering if you could’ve worded something better or if a different answer was right, but you forced yourself to calm the fuck down. You studied for this (surprisingly) and you were sure that at least half of your answers were correct. Hopefully.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard your teacher speak, notifying the class that there was five minutes left, and you could see a few write faster as they tried to finish on time. Those five minutes felt like an eternity, watching the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock above the door leisurely make its way to four, then three, then two, one… thirty seconds, and…

Finally!

You took your time packing up, watching your classmates rush out of the door, eager to leave the boring room. It wasn’t until the last person made their way out did you walk up to your teacher’s desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“May I help you?” He questioned, offering you a brief glance as he reached over to grab the pile of test papers. It was frustrating how he could just ignore your past… ordeals like they were nothing, but you were determined to claim your keep.

“Can you, uh, grade my paper? Now, I mean,” you requested, trying to fight off your growing eagerness, but it seemed that it didn’t matter when he quirked an eyebrow. He gave you an unconvinced look, leaning back on his chair to properly look at you, searching your eyes for something. “Please,” you hastily added, hoping it’d be enough to convince him.

“Why not wait until next week?” He seemed to have found what he was looking for as he relaxed his expression, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is there something urgent?”

“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, pursing your lips. You weren’t sure how to explain without sound too eager, but you were almost ninety percent sure he knew why you wanted him to grade it now. “I wanna see how I did. ‘Cause… I studied this time. So…”

An intrigued glint shone in his golden eyes, and his head bobbed in a slow, understanding nod. He returned to the stack and scanned through the list of names until he found yours, pulling out the answer sheet to look over. It was silent for a while, save for the occasional scratch of his pen and the obnoxious tick-tock of the clock. You crossed your arms across your chest and examined the room absentmindedly, finding it too weird to watch him grade in this silence.

“You’ve done well,” he suddenly spoke, the richness of his voice gently guiding you out of your thoughts. “Congratulations.”

You saw that he rotated the paper to you, letting you look at the numbers that adorned the white page. 47/50, it read, marking this your highest grade yet.

“That’s good,” you hummed, risking a glance up at him, only to find him already watching you expectantly.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He questioned, and you could’ve sworn that he had the faintest of smirks. It was gone as quick as you saw it, but you were sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. You paused, feeling the uncomfortable weight of embarrassment creeping in your mind, stopping the words on the tip of your tongue. What were you so nervous about? You did good and everyone knew he didn’t go back on his word.

“You said you’d reward me if I did good,” you reminded, leaning forward a touch too eagerly.

“Did I?” He replied, his expression unchanging even when it was clear what you wanted. “The reward was the knowledge and understanding of this unit. Are you not satisfied?”

Fuck.

“Oh. Uh,” you were mortified—how could you not be? Technically, he didn’t specify what the prize would be. You just assumed it’d include him fucking you like the last two times. You stared at him, pursing your lips, not really bothering to hide the obvious displeasure in your face. “If I say no, will I get something else?”

The corners of his lips raised in a smug smile as he intertwined his fingers together, resting them atop the smooth wood of his desk. You noticed the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes and groaned softly. He was just messing with you.

“I suppose so,” he said, beckoning you closer to him with a refined hand. He flattened it along the curve of your hip, gently guiding you to the edge of his desk as he stood up to press himself against you. “You’ve done well today. You must’ve been very determined to get what you wanted, hm?”

You nodded slightly, almost shyly, shuddering at the feeling of his hand sliding down your pelvis to palm at your crotch. He was (not so) surprised to have felt you already hardening under his touch, but he didn’t comment on it, instead giving your cock an experimental squeeze. Your knees nearly buckled, grateful to have the desk supporting your weight as he stroked and explored your body.

“You’re more sensitive than the previous times we’ve done this,” he noted, leaning back to slot his thigh between your own and tilt your bashful head up. His grip was firm, unrelenting, raising goosebumps along your arms at his—frankly strange—strength. You hardly paid it any heed, of course. It just added to his appeal. “Have you been anticipating this moment since then?”

He refused to let you look away, tightening his grip on your chin to make you meet his golden eyes. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before steeling your nerves. He said you could have this, so you were going take it.

“Yeah,” you replied, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand needily. You bit your lip at the jolt of electricity that traveled up your spine, sending your senses into overdrive. You could smell his cologne—it was rich and smooth, subtle and fitting for a man like him. He was all you could feel, hear, and see as his hand made its way to the front of your pants, deftly undoing the button to tug them down.

“My, I can’t imagine how pent up you must be to be this aroused already,” he teased, his cheeks raised in a minuscule smirk. He swiftly pulled his gloves off and ran his hands ran over the curve of your thighs this time, sliding along the underside to lift you onto the desk. You tensed when the cold surface met your heated skin, but it was soon forgotten when you watched him slide your boxers off, breath hitching as he wrapped his hand around your cock.

He pressed his thumb onto the sensitive head, giving it a quick rub before lifting it, noticing the thin string of precum connecting his finger to you. He tightened his hold again to start jerking you off, listening intently to the slick noises and your breathy moans. He could feel his own dick beginning to harden, straining against the fabric of his slacks, but he ignored it for the sake of pleasuring you.

His touch was addicting. Hypnotizing. Entrancing. Anything and everything under the sun because you couldn’t get enough of how damn good he was. He knew just how tight to squeeze, the right pace, what made you shudder and squirm. The build-up was slow and delicious, clouding over your mind until your thoughts were hardly coherent enough to speak out.

“Damn—you’re… you’re good,” you shakily panted, eyes darting between his warm, strong hand and his own irises. Your cock throbbed, twitching at the sound of his low, amused chuckle. You clutched at the edge of the desk hard enough to make your hands shake, thighs flexing as you writhed. Though, you were careful enough not to accidentally kick him.

“I’m flattered you think so,” he responded, moving himself so that his hip pressed one of your thighs wider. He felt you hook your leg around his waist and tighten when he moved his hand away to prod his fingertips against your lips, wordlessly demanding entry. Eagerly, you complied, opening your mouth to let him press onto your tongue and gather your saliva.

You hummed at the feeling before closing your lips around them, gently sucking on them as you gauged his reaction. You couldn’t catch his overall expression shifting, but you did see his eyebrow raise the slightest bit and feel his cock throb against your ass. He let out a breath when he felt the suction alongside your tongue swirling around his skin, coating his fingers in your saliva. He pushed them further down, resulting in a soft gag from you. He held them there for a moment longer before pulling away, watching you break the thin trail that connected you to him with a swift swipe of your tongue over your slick lower lip.

Without missing a beat, he reached down, and you were fully expecting to feel him prod at your hole, but his hand targeted the handle of one of his drawers. You huffed impatiently and rolled your eyes when he pulled out a bottle of lube, listening to the sound of the cap being flipped open.

“Was the whole finger thing really necessary?” You grumbled, gasping slightly when he tugged your hips forward just enough so your ass hung off of the edge. You gave him a weak glare when he poured some of it on your asshole directly, tensing and shuddering at the sudden temperature drop.

“No,” he replied smoothly, easing his fingers into you. “But surely you didn’t expect to be the only one enjoying himself?” He questioned rhetorically, pumping them in and out slow enough so that the wet squelching was the only thing you could hear. “I also had no intention of using my saliva this time.”

“Could’ve started by now,” you said under your breath, mildly bitter that he had you gagging on his fingers just ‘cause he felt like it.

“Have patience,” he murmured, jabbing his slender fingers into your prostate in response to your vulgar words. He jerked you off with his free hand, paying close attention to each of your reactions, down to the minuscule twitch. “I know you can do that. If you can pass a simple test, how much more is waiting to you?”

You remained silent, swallowing the impending retort. You huffed through your nose, watching his hands expertly working your body better than you’d ever have. Your hips jerked and your cock pulsed rhythmically whenever he curled his slender fingers into that one spot that had you seeing stars. It was hard to keep quiet, and you were sure he was making this as difficult as he possibly could for you.

The heat in your belly intensified with every second—with every jab to your sensitive prostate and stroke along your painfully hard dick. Your labored breaths came out in quick pants, hitching when he teased the leaking tip. You were fully expecting him to take his time, to feel the gradual buildup, so when he suddenly speeds up, you accidentally let out a loud moan.

He gave you a sharp look, reminding you that you couldn’t afford to be loud despite not letting up. You swiftly clamped a hand over your mouth, weakly glaring at him for the sudden onslaught of stimulation, but you could hardly keep up the attitude for long. You squeezed your eyes shut and squirmed, nostrils flaring at the effort as your hips jerked every so often.

“F–Fuck, sir,” you panted, your eyebrows furrowing when you looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m gonna… m’gonna cum.”

“Go ahead,” Zhongli murmured, watching you intently. And, like his rich, smooth voice was a trigger, you did. You bit down on your lip so hard you nearly punctured it, unable to completely muffle your moans as the sounds slipped past your hand. He didn’t scold you for it, instead deciding to continue to move his hands, milking out as much cum out of your cock as he could before you started to whine at the budding overstimulation.

He let you take a moment to gather yourself, shifting to grab a tissue and wipe his fingers clean. He turned back to look at you when you sighed, leaning back to place most of your weight on your palms.

“Do you need a break?” He questioned, placing his hands back on your bare thighs. He was in no rush despite having his painfully hard dick straining against his pants, and you were internally impressed with his self control.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat, hooking your knee around his waist to tug him closer, but he hardly budged. “Fuck me. Now. I’ll be fine,” you urged. It seemed that demands were your strong suit this time around.

“Learning to have patience will benefit you greatly,” he said, and you watched the way he took a deep breath in a manner you knew meant that he was about to go on a long tangent of life lessons or something along the line. You gave him a pleading look, to which he acknowledged with yet another subtle, smug smirk. Good lord, when he wasn’t in a serious setting or teaching, he could be a pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively.

“Stop doing that,” you huffed, but you could hardly maintain that (already weak) sense of annoyance when he moved to undo his pants, eyes quickly and instinctively making their way towards his cock. You could see the tip of it beading with precum and the way it flushed an angry red.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow what you’re trying to imply,” he responded, all of his amusement fizzling away to make room for the faux ignorance. He reached over to grab the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount onto his palm and rub it along his dick, creating quiet squelching sounds that, now that you thought about it, made you cringe.

“So you just casually have lube laying around?” You questioned, looking back up at him curiously like you weren’t about to have sex. You had a strange relationship, honestly.

“I got it recently. Based on your reaction towards our last session together, it was easy to assume that you’d make a genuine effort,” he said, wiping most of the lube off his hand with a tissue before hefting your thighs up his broad shoulders. “You’re quite predictable.”

You didn’t bother to refute this time, wincing slightly at the tension to your lower back. “Ow—careful,” you hissed, shifting to get comfortable when you paused suddenly, feeling the head of his cock press against your asshole.

“You’ll be fine,” he gently assured, resting his free hand beside your head. “Bear with it.”

He pushed forward—gently this time, unlike the way he so roughly shoved himself inside you like the first time. You tensed regardless, mildly uncomfortable with the burn that came with his entry.

“Relax,” he murmured, rubbing a hand on your thigh in a comforting manner, coaxing your relaxation forth. He sank in slowly, breathing in deeply as he fought the urge to shove himself in one go. It felt better this way, he realized, taking his time instead of rushing it out of the sake of irritation. “You’re doing well. Just breathe.”

You nodded sheepishly, resting your head back against his desk. Your chest fell and rose rhythmically, making yourself relax to make things easier for both you and him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip and grunted when he finally buried himself all the way inside you, listening to him grunt in satisfaction.

“Fuck… is it me, or did you literally get bigger?” Your voice was strained, breathy and shaky. Your legs tightened slightly around his shoulders, staring at him needily.

“No, nothing about me has changed,” he chuckled softly, finding your state humorous. “But you have. You’ve improved your character within this room and proved that you’re more than capable of passing my class. You’ve made me proud, [L.Name].”

“Oh. Haha. Really?” You laughed awkwardly, turning your head to the side bashfully. Butterflies fluttered within your stomach at the praise, feeling a sudden rush of giddiness that you were hardly able to hide. “I guess I am doing better, huh?”

He nodded in response, his golden eyes softening. “I will begin now.”

You gasped, instinctively looking down to watch him pull out a bit and softly push back inside. You shuddered at the drag of his cock against your prostate, biting your lip once again to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat.

He moved rhythmically, his gaze locked on your blissful expression. His cock throbbed as he slid in and out, again and again, targeting your prostate with pinpoint precision. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, grunting softly, your soft moans mixing in with the wet, gentle slaps that filled the room.

“Shit—don’t say stuff like that,” you stubbornly said, slapping a hand over your mouth when he jabbed his dick up against your prostate with a sharp thrust.

“No? But is it—” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing when he felt you squeeze tighter around him, letting out a strained, labored breath. He tightened his fingers into fists that had his knuckles turning white, pressing his hips against your ass firmly for a moment before resuming. “But is it not the truth?”

You rolled your eyes, using your lack of momentum to kick his back with the heel of your foot. “You talk too much…”

“Is that so?” He retorted, a faint smirk gracing his features as he bent down lower, brushing his lips against your ear, and ignored the strained grunt you let out at the added tension to your back. “Then what would you like me to do?”

You hesitated, shivering pleasantly as his breath ghosted the shell of your ear. “Harder. Go harder.” The two of you remained silent for a beat, and you quickly realized he was expecting something else. “Please.”

“Good boy. Just because I’m doing this for you doesn’t mean you simply forget your manners,” he scolded lightheartedly.

And, like clockwork, your jaw snapped open to argue, but he wouldn’t allow it this time. He rammed his cock so hard in you stars danced through your vision, your body tensing and clenching down tighter around his cock. His breaths came out shallow and labored, focused on churning your insides to mush while you tried your damn best to keep yourself from getting too loud.

“Fuck—oh my God, sir, please—” you choked out, hands scrambling for purchase. You covered your mouth with one and buried your fingers in his hair with the other, inadvertently tugging on the strands and messing up his ponytail. “Wait…!”

“Is this not what you wanted?” He rhetorically questioned, his voice low, not needing to raise his volume over your surprised and needy moans. “A shame,” he continued, finding no desire to let up any time soon. He panted harshly into your neck, letting his eyes squeeze shut as he savored the feeling of your tight hole fluttering and pulsing around him. This closeness was unwarranted and wrong, he of all people knew that. But as you whimpered and whined into his ear, he also found that he didn’t mind it.

All that could be heard were the resounding slaps and your poorly concealed noises. The desk creaked slightly, straining under your combined weight as he kept you pinned down with his body, ignoring the quiet rustle of paper as a few fluttered off the desk.

“Fuck, m’so close, sir,” came your muffled words, eyes rolling in ecstasy as you dragged your hand down to clutch tightly at his back, fingers desperately curling into his clothes. “G-Gonna cum—don’t stop!”

“Quiet,” he shushed you, giving one of your thighs a brief pinch before he grabbed hold of your weeping cock to stroke it in time with his movements. Slick sounds emanated from you as he jerked you off with dexterity, stoking the raging heat in your belly. “I know you can lower your voice. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

You meekly shook your head, letting go of his back to place both hands over your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling yourself jolt up and down as he rammed himself into your ass rhythmically. Your legs tightened slightly around his neck, searching for something to cling to. You were so close and you knew he was aware of it. He refused to let up, pushing you higher and higher, groaning when you tightened around him reflexively.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your hands hardly able to catch your voice as you came hard, body shuddering and convulsing. He squeezed your dick, slowing down considerably to help you through your orgasm, sweat rolling down his temple at the shared body heat and the effort to please you.

He pulled out with a grunt, letting one of your legs fall off his shoulder as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off, sighing in satisfaction when he finally came. You shivered, resting an arm over your eyes in exhaustion as the two of you basked in the afterglow, chest heaving up and down as you panted hard.

“You’ve done well,” he murmured, cleaning his hands off with a tissue to massage your trembling thighs, giving you a moment to recompose yourself. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks…” you replied, taking your arm off your face to look at him. He was disheveled--the most unkempt you've ever seen him. You sighed gratefully when he moved your remaining leg down to grab another tissue and wipe off his and your cum that landed on your stomach.

"Here, take this." He handed you a bottle of water, fixing himself as soon as you accepted it. "It'll do you well to rehydrate yourself, especially after an intensive session such as this."

You drank a generous amount, wiping your mouth after you put the bottle down to retrieve your pants and underwear when he handed them to you. "Thanks. Again."

"Of course." He nodded, giving you more space to put your clothes back on, watching you with a soft expression. "It's getting late. Would you like me to escort you home?"

"I'm okay. I live, like, what, ten minutes away by foot?" You shook your head, wincing slightly at the ache in your back. You stood up and stretched, yawning, as you made your way away from the desk. You noticed a piece of paper on the floor and bent down to grab it, flipping it over to place atop the surface, realizing that it was your test that fell. Staring at the red numbers for a moment longer, you were overcome with a sense of embarrassment.

Man, the things you'd do for dick.

"Don't expect any leniency from me, [L.Name]," he said, walking over towards the window to open it, letting a fresh breeze carry the smell of sex outside. "My demands still remain."

"I know," you sighed, feigning dejection before you grabbed your stuff, walking towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you then."

[vifilms]

★ CUM IN THE CLUB!

another banger collab with my angel — @absfawn. i love when our minds mesh together and this is so special. can't wait to put out more for this one ♡

𝜗℘ feat. dealer!abby x fem!reader

warnings. eighteen+, fem!reader, anal, sex toys, exhibitionism, mean!abby.

palestine masterpost

dealer!abby who takes you out to a club she does business in even if it goes against what she told you. all day long your puppy dog eyes and killer smile paired with your bratty fucking attitude pushes her while she tries to work but no. babygirl had to have her way — so be it. before the two of you leave, she stops you, and for a moment you almost believe abby’s going to back track on her word but she just wants to have little fun. bending you over her desk, with a firm hand she pushes your pretty dress to your waist, exposing the pretty holes she loves to stuff. sinfully spreading your ass cheeks apart, she spits. it’s slow as the liquid reaches your puckered hole, using her finger as she spreads it around to lube your perfect little hole. half of her wishes to take you upstairs, stuff you full of her cock but she refrains. carefully, abby removes the plug from her drawer. meticulously, pushes the toy inside your ass. the familiar moan, the one you only give her when you plays with you, fumbles from your mouth. c’mon, you want a night out. right baby? abby sinks to her knees, getting a taste of your cunt, licking boldly as her tongue basically works magic on your cunt but then she’s gone, the office door left open as you shove your hem down, summoned to follow her. 

dealer!abby has been busy, all night, just like she told you. luck happened to be on your side, when she frees herself up for you. pulling her by the tie you knotted for her earlier, you pull her to the overfilled floor. abby’s suit jacket abandoned, it’s just her button up and the maroon tie, those stupid slacks perfectly tailored to her bulging thighs and perfect ass. the dim lights of the club conceal most of what you enjoy so much but the face you love to fuck is still seen underneath the strobe lights. she lets herself be dragged by you, as she toys with the remote in her pocket. already, she smirks. unable to contain the excitement. the very thing she’s been patiently waiting for as she nurses bruised knuckles. 

your ass grinds against her front, the plug feels even better as your pussy gets some friction, but you feel something. the familiar dildo, the one she prefers to split your pussy on. “abs, are yo—” the words die on your tongue as the butt plug vibrates. her hands grip onto your hips, pulling right on the strap she is so obviously wearing. “who told you to stop grinding on my cock?” her fingers amp the vibrations even more, your head tosses back as you moan in her. craving nothing but to please her, you keep going. inevitably chasing the high she gives you. 

“y’know i was gonna be mean, punish you for your insistent brattiness but i’d much rather see you cum. remind you who this pussy, this ass, and these tits belong to.” abby manhandles you, rotating your hips into a pace she likes while she makes out the vibrations. with it being so small, you never thought it would feel this good. “abs, i—”but abby starts moving her own hips, the outline of her cock connects with your dripping folds, your dress riding up enough, your bare ass exposed. 

“shit, daddy, feels like—” your clit pulsating against the sensation. “feels like a taste of what i’m going to do later. gotta warm you up if you want your ass split on my cock tonight,”  the mischievous blonde slips two fingers inside your cunt, deliciously curling them against your cunt, your g-spot being fucked with each thrust of your fingers. “but right now? you’re gonna make a pretty mess all over my fingers. make sure you’re good or daddy will punish you later. treat you like the best you are.” abby fucks you at a pace you almost can’t keep up with. hips fucking against her fingers as she fully seats them inside you. 

“y-yeah, shit shit, i’m close. daddy, can i cum? m’so close, need to please you. please can i cum?” you whine, a whimper pulled from deep within you as you shake against her cock. just to be cruel, she slides another finger. the magic in her hands tattering you right off the edge as her thumb circles around your ass with your slick. “mhm babygirl, show me what a dirty fucking slut you can be. soak daddy’s fingers, yeah?” 

the only thing you see is her pretty face when you cum, deep blue eyes and then her mouth is devouring yours. commanding the control she always does, velvet tongue massaging with yours, swallowing each and every moan you give. it’s desperate the way you need her but when her fingers leave you, the sigh that leaves you can be heard over the thumping bass in the club. 

“oh? well, don’t think i can wait until we get home either. you need me to stuff all your holes? can’t even stop grinding on my cock even after i made you cum.” abby laughs, hot breath hitting your ear. “my pathetic whore, hm? i’m sure you’d let me fuck your pussy in front of everyone. pretty pussy always need me s’bad.” 

the brat in you resurfaces now that you’ve had your fill. “as if claiming my pussy in front of everybody is a threat? do your best, if you can manage.”

“i’ll do you one better, baby. i’ll do my fucking worst.”

[rosyblooom]

blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)

part 1 <- | part 2

The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.

Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.

You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.

And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.

This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.

You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.

"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.

Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.

"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.

Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.

Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.

A man.

His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.

With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."

It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.

“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"

You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”

He smiles.

Your gaze narrows.

"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."

"Well, it's still too close," you snap.

"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."

Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."

With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.

"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.

Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.

"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.

"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.

"I don't care."

His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."

"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.

The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"

Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.

"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.

Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm okay.

The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.

Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.

A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.

There's no reaction from him, not even a response.

Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.

"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"

"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.

His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.

"Let me see," you say calmly.

For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.

"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.

"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."

Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.

"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.

"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"

You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.

"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.

Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"

Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.

"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"

Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."

For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.

"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.

You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."

You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.

"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.

"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."

His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.

"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.

You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.

Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.

Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.

"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.

Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."

Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."

You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.

"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.

"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.

*********

As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.

"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.

"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.

"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"

"Worse," you deadpan.

"...Right."

With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.

However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.

But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.

"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.

You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.

No, not today. Please, not today.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.

"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"

Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.

Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.

"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.

"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.

"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"

You nod, still not quite ready to speak.

Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"

"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."

"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.

"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.

"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."

Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."

With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist | next part

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface. 5.8k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

[coldshrugs]

HOW are you dealing with the new expression bones

for me and the type of gposing i do, less is more when it comes to expressions. still, i've tried to set myself up for success when adjusting them, so i'll share what i've got here.

quick preface: i use ktisis to pose. i've seen the layout for anam, but haven't used it, and i find brio's posing a bit too finicky for my liking. i use it for supplemental features, but not posing.

blue tips will be pretty accessible, and red tips are for those who don't mind fucking around and finding out, or putting in a bit more effort.

Filter the Visible Bones in Your List

No brainer, right? Looking at the left is a nightmare.

Do yourself a favor and only activate the group you’re working with, like the mouth group on the right.

Make an Expression Pack (or several!)

When it comes to expressions, the best advice I can give is: go through the vanilla expression emotes with your character and save them as .pose files. It’s a little time-consuming, but it WILL be worth it if you’re making enhanced poses often enough. And you don’t have to stop there–if there’s a full-on emote with an expression you adore, pause it during the expression and save it the same way. You can load that face onto other poses.

A note on pre-made expressions with the new face bones: Expressions will not carry across races, nor will they carry well across faces of the same race. This is particularly noticeable for the mouth. For that reason, you may want to label your expression folders like this:

Gender > Race > Face –or– Female > Viera > Face 4

Eye Movement with Sibling Linking

This has always been the go-to, but I think it’s good to share. There’s a button that lets you move one bone while also affecting its sibling bone (for example, you can move the left eye, and the right eye will move too).

“Link Rotation” will move the bones in the same direction. You will use this the most. “Mirror Rotation” will move them in opposite directions, but the amount of movement will be the same.

I use this for eyes and eyelids to ensure I’m getting even movements and looks across the board (like below), but it works for ears, limbs, hair, you name it! If there’s a left and a right version of the bone, they can be moved in tandem.

Mouth Movement with Position

With the new mouth bones, I’ve found position to be far more helpful than rotation. Switch your transform mode to position, zoom way in, and lift those lip corners, or shift them in or out.

Here's the expression we just made from a blank face!

Adjust Some Settings

Consider adjusting your settings so that the bones and their connecting lines fade or disappear while you’re mid-movement, so you can see things more clearly. Some folks don't want to dabble in settings at all, which is fine!! But if you have the time and inclination, try it out!

Try Bone Offsetting

This is a lifesaver. You can adjust the position of each dot, for a more clear view of them. This takes some time and patience, but I found it to be worth it because I'm always on that damn gpose.

ESPECIALLY useful for the eyes, where the bones’ default state is stacked on top of each other. I’ve also adjusted the abdomen/waist/lumbar area and viera ear bones to my taste.

Bone Offsets only affect the specific race and gender you adjust them on. Here you can see the pile of dots on the unadjusted fem miqo's eyes, and then the fem viera's bone dots spread out to more legible placements.

Hopefully this was somewhat helpful! Feel free to shoot questions my way anytime! 💗