#scream 6

[lukaskyle-moved]

Melissa Barrera as Sam Carpenter SCREAM VI (2023) Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett ‣ happy birthday, @taiturner! 💞

[itsnotyouithink]

AFRAID

SUMMARY: During practice, you find out Tara Carpenter is the girl from the new Stab 7 movie.. the real girl. The guilt hits hard — especially when the two of you end up locked in the gym that same night. She��s not just your tutor anymore; she’s a mystery you’re suddenly dying to understand.

PAIRING: tara carpenter x fem!reader

WARNINGS: ghostface mention, daddy issues.

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: are they getting too close too fast? it’s abt to heat up so idkk

part one | part two | part three | part four |

____________

Mindy had always been careful — just never neat. She could recite obscure film trivia without blinking, but somehow lost her pencils, notebooks, textbooks, novels, art supplies, even an entire school-issued camera kit in the weirdest, most impossible places. Anika once told her, "check yourself twice before leaving a room."

She never listened.

You were mid-drill, ball in hand, sweat still fresh on your skin, when she barreled onto the court waving her phone like it was on fire.

"Okay, just look into the camera and say: 'come to the Blackmore Cinema at 8 p.m. next Friday for the film festival,'" she rushed out, breathless.

You sighed, palmed the ball under your arm, and plastered on a practiced grin.

"Hi everyone," you chirped, way too rehearsed. "Come to the Blackmore Cinema at eight p.m. next Friday for an insane film festival. My team and I are pulling up, so you should too."

"Perfect!" she squealed, just as the unmistakable voice of your coach echoed across the court.

"I love you," Mindy added dramatically. "Come over for dinner tonight!"

You squinted at her.

"Dinner where? I've seen your dorm. It's like three feet wide and smells like broken dreams."

"What? No." She scoffed. "You think I'd voluntarily subject people to that trash bin? Hell no. It's at Tara's. We're doing like, a friend dinner or whatever."

You blinked at her like she'd just asked you to run suicides voluntarily.

"Hard pass. I'm not about to walk into my torturer's home."

"You are so dramatic," she groaned, already turning away. "Maybe join the theatre department instead of the basketball team."

You snorted and shoved her shoulder. Right on cue, Coach's voice sliced through the gym.

"Hey! Four! Baseline. Now!"

Your teammates groaned like you'd personally betrayed them. You grimaced. "Great. Thanks for getting me killed, Mindy."

She only grinned. "Always happy to help."

And with that, she trotted out of the gym — leaving her bag sitting dead center on the bleachers like a forgotten plotline. Practice was already bleeding into the evening, the gym clock ticking toward 5 p.m.

You jogged to the baseline, ignoring the muttered curses from your teammates. Eight laps. That was the punishment.

By lap four, your legs were already aching — and so was your ankle, screaming with each step like it had something to prove. You pushed it down. Again.

Sarah caught up to you by lap five, eyebrows raised and smug.

"So," she panted, "you still failing that easy-ass film class?"

You wiped the sweat from your brow with your jersey.

"First of all, it's not easy. Film is technical. And creative. Which are two things I severely lack. Second..." You winced. "Kinda. But I've got a tutor."

Sarah's laughter cracked across the track.

"You're doing so bad they had to assign you a tutor? Damn, I thought people were just joking when they said you couldn't analyze a movie to save your life. Why'd you even take the class?"

You don't answer right away.

The truth is heavier than your legs feel.

Your mom had pushed you into it — ever since you were a kid. Because your grandfather was some hotshot director back in the 60s or 70s, and your mom practically grew up on soundstages. She chased the acting dream once, but it didn't pan out. She settled for memories and nostalgia. And, apparently, forcing her daughter to take intro film classes at college.

"They said it would be easy," you muttered.

Sarah just laughed again, breezing past it. "Okay but who's the lucky tutor? Anyone I know?"

You hesitated. The pain in your ankle spiked — sharp and sudden — as your foot struck the floor wrong. But you didn't let it show. You couldn't. Your dad had made that very clear.

"Uh. Probably not. She's... kind of introverted?" you said. "I don't know. All I do know is that she hates me. Like, full-on loathes my existence."

Sarah raised a brow. "What's her name?"

"Tara Carpenter."

And just like that, Sarah's expression twisted — less surprise, more oh.

Her pace slowed for a step. You noticed.

"Okay... why'd you slow down?" you asked.

"Tara Carpenter is your tutor?" she asked, like she was double-checking the universe.

You blinked. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Oh," she said, breath catching, "you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" You narrowed your eyes.

"Have you seen the newest Stab movie?"

You blinked again. "I don't watch movies."

Sarah gave you a look like you were an alien. "Well, they're based on Tara and her sister. She's from Woodsboro. You know... that Woodsboro. Her and her sister got attacked — brutally. One of her close friends went full Ghostface. It was all over the news."

You stopped mid-stride, almost slipping on the court. "What?"

"Yeah." She unscrewed her water bottle as the whistle blew for your final sprint. "It's insane. And, like, Tara's not introverted. Not even close. She just hates everyone. Drinks a lot. Parties a lot. And honestly? I get it. If the whole internet was calling my sister a psycho, I'd be drunk every weekend too."

She jogged ahead, leaving you behind — frozen. Breathless. Numb.

You'd only ever known her as your tutor and Mindy’s close friend from high school. The girl who rolled her eyes every time you got a director's name wrong. The one who always acted like being around you physically hurt her.

But now?

Now she had a backstory. A tragedy. Headlines attached to her name.

Wait, was Mindy a part of this too?

You'd never watched Stab. But you knew that mask. That voice.

What's your favorite scary movie?

You exhaled, long and shaky.

And for the first time since this whole tutoring thing started, you felt it — the guilt curling in your chest like smoke. Why would you ask her what her favorite movie was? Fuck. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!

You had no idea.

⸻

The gym was nearly silent now, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights and the soft creak of the old bleachers cooling in the evening air. The echoes of practice—whistles, laughter, the bounce of basketballs—had long since faded into memory.

You sat on the bottom row of the bleachers, ankle stretched out, sock peeled halfway down, your shoe abandoned beside you like it had given up too. The swelling had gotten worse. Angry and pink and tight.

But you weren't looking at it.

You were looking at her.

Not in person. On your phone.

Frozen images of Tara Carpenter lit up your screen, too-bright photos taken without consent, grainy screenshots from security cams and news segments. A clip sat paused where her name was captioned in bold, capital letters beneath her pale, exhausted face.

"Woodsboro Survivor Speaks Out."

"Final Girl: The Carpenter Legacy."

"Stab 7: The Real Story of Tara and Sam Carpenter."

You didn't even realize how deep you were in it until the door creaked open.

Your head snapped up.

She was already inside.

Tara stood a few feet from the entrance, hoodie on, bag strap slung over her shoulder. She paused just long enough to register the scene: empty court, one player still here, and her best friend's gym bag forgotten near the top bleacher.

Her gaze fell to you.

Then to your phone.

Back to you.

She didn't blink.

Your stomach dropped.

"I—" you started, fumbling to lock the screen and shove the phone face-down. "Sorry. I didn't think anyone would—"

"Be here?" she finished, voice flat.

She walked slowly toward Mindy's bag, each footstep somehow too loud in the quiet. She picked it up like it weighed more than it should, then turned around and leaned back against the bleacher railing, arms folded.

"I guess I should be used to it by now," she said. "People looking."

You stood up too quickly—your ankle shouted in protest. You hissed, nearly stumbling before catching yourself. Tara didn't move to help. But her eyes flicked down to your foot and then right back up.

"I wasn't trying to—"

"Sure you were." Her voice wasn't angry. Just exhausted.

You stood still, phone still in your hand. "I didn't mean to make it a thing."

She shrugged. "Too late."

The lights above flickered once. Faint, but noticeable. You glanced at them, then back at her. "Mindy leave her entire life here again?"

"We were supposed to have dinner tonight but she had a dinner date with someone named 'free sushi.' So, basically ditched us for her girlfriend — again."

You smiled, tentative. "Oh, right. Dinner. At your house."

Tara didn't return it.

The silence between you thickened.

"I wasn't reading it to... judge you," you said, softer now. "I didn't know. Not really."

Tara's jaw tightened. "That's the problem, isn't it? Everyone thinks they didn't know. But the moment they do, it's all they can see."

She turned toward the exit. And that's when it happened.

A mechanical click. Subtle. Sharp. Final.

You both froze.

Tara's head turned slowly. Her eyes locked onto the gym door. She took a step forward and tried the handle.

It didn't move.

She pulled again. Harder.

Nothing.

You felt your stomach sink. She loudly gulped in front of you, "Wait—what time is it?"

You checked. "6:10."

Tara stepped back, laughing—but not like she was amused. "Of course. They installed the auto-locks last week."

"I also... forgot to sign out."

She looked at you, something sharp in her gaze. "You didn't sign out?"

Innocently, you raised your hands up like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, "I didn't know I had to. I thought it was just a suggestion! That's a new thing, right?"

"It was in an email."

"I don't read those."

"Clearly."

She didn't say anything. Just stood there.

Still.

Too still.

You moved toward her. "Hey. It's okay. They'll do a sweep—Coach always checks before locking the building down for the night."

"Unless he left early."

You blinked. "He wouldn't."

She didn't answer.

Her breathing was shallow now, eyes fixed on the door like it was a trap. Like something on the other side was about to burst through it. You could see the tension running down her arms, her spine, her fingers flexing around the bag strap like she wanted something to hold onto.

You stepped closer, careful. "Tara."

She didn't look at you.

"I get it," you said. "I know this feels... familiar. And wrong. And like the lights are about to go out."

Still no answer.

"But they're not," you added. "You're here. You're safe. You're not seventeen in a hospital bed anymore."

That made her flinch.

You winced. "Shit. I shouldn't have—"

"No," she said suddenly, voice tight. "You're right. It's just a room. Just a gym. Just a locked door."

She exhaled slowly. Then again.

You shifted your weight and your ankle pulsed, making your whole leg throb. You grimaced, half-sitting on the bleacher beside you.

"Are you okay?" she asked, eyes flicking to your foot again.

"Yeah," you lied. "Just overdid it."

She raised an eyebrow.

You grinned. "Fine. I fucked it up three games ago and have been pretending it's fine ever since."

Tara shook her head. "Idiot."

"I prefer 'dedicated.'"

"Self-destructive."

"Passionate."

"Reckless."

You shrugged. "Semantics."

Finally, a smile. Barely there. But it counted. You shifted your weight, and your ankle screamed beneath you. You managed not to wince. Barely.

"I could use a distraction," she murmured, like it hurt to admit it.

You perked up. "I happen to be an expert at those."

Her brow lifted. "Do you usually flirt your way through disaster scenarios?"

You smirked. "Only with emotionally complex horror girls."

A long pause.

Then, finally: "Fine. Distract me."

You bent down—carefully—and picked up the ball. "Let me teach you to shoot."

Tara laughed, dry. "Absolutely not."

"Too late." You bounced the ball toward her. She caught it—awkwardly, palms stiff like she didn't trust it.

"You're lucky I don't throw this at your face."

"You'd miss," you teased.

She shot you a look. "I hate you."

But her lips twitched.

You limped a little closer and stood behind her, hands gentle as you guided hers on the ball. "Okay. Spread your fingers a bit. Relax your elbows. No death grip."

"Stop whispering like this is a Ghost pottery scene."

You grinned. "I'm a woman of many talents."

She turned her head slightly. You were close enough to see the fine strands of hair falling loose from her clip. Close enough to see her eyes change when she realized how close you were. Your voice dropped. "Try bouncing it. Not slapping—just push."

She did. The ball bounced crooked but came back.

You smiled. "Look at you. Natural."

She rolled her eyes. "Liar."

You stepped in front of her. "Shoot now."

"It's gonna be humiliating."

"I'm ready to be humbled."

She squared up. Breathed in. Took the shot. It bounced once on the rim—then dropped in. Her jaw dropped.

You gasped like she just hit a half-court buzzer-beater. "Holy shit, Carpenter. You're a prodigy."

"No way—did that actually—"

"You. Are. Athletic royalty."

Tara covered her mouth with her hand, laughing into it. It was soft and breathy and real. And for a second, she looked like someone who hadn't grown up dodging knives and headlines.

You stepped toward her, heart still racing. "You want to try again?"

She nodded, breathless. "One more."

You handed her the ball. "This is how it starts, you know."

"What?"

"Every sports romcom. The cool jock and the snarky outsider, locked somewhere after hours..."

Tara laughed. "Is this the part where we slow dance with a boombox?"

"I forgot the boombox," you said. "But I can hum The Notebook score if you want.”

She tilted her head, smiling at you now, but in that different kind of way—warmer, quieter. "You're not what I thought."

You looked at her. "What did you think?"

"That you were just another athlete who couldn't name a single female director."

You mock-gasped. "I'll have you know I cry during Greta Gerwig movies."

"I bet you do."

A beat passed.

Then she stepped closer. Ball in her hands. Looking up at you like maybe—just maybe—this was the first time she felt safe in a long time. Her voice dropped. "Thank you. For this."

You smiled, heart pounding, ankle forgotten. "Anytime."

And then—

BANG.

The gym doors burst open.

"TARA?!" Sam Carpenter's voice cracked like a whip.

Tara jumped back. You both turned as she stormed inside, her eyes wild, scanning for blood or bodies. Coach followed right behind her, winded and visibly pissed. "We've been calling you for twenty minutes—security had to override the damn system—"

"I'm fine," Tara said quickly, wiping her hands on her jeans. "I swear, we just got stuck."

Coach turned to you. "You didn't sign out?"

Your heart jumped into your throat. "I forgot. I thought practice ran longer."

His eyes narrowed. "You better not have been doing drills alone."

"No, sir." You shook your head with a tense close-lipped smile.

Tara didn't look at you.

But she stepped a little in front of you. Subtle. Quiet.

Coach scanned the room. "I want both of you out of here. Now."

Sam still hadn't stopped hovering. "Why weren't you answering?"

"I left my phone in Mindy's room," Tara muttered. "We're fine, Sam. Calm down before you catch a stroke or something.”

Coach sighed, rubbing his face while turning towards you. "You're lucky I was still here."

Tara glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes found yours again. And this time, they were soft. Still a little scared. But soft.

She mouthed it more than she said it: "Thank you."

And then she left. But not before her sister thoroughly — and scarily — glared at you. All you could do in return, was gulp.

——————

You're flat on your back, one arm draped over your forehead, ankle still elevated on a bunch of useless Calculus textbooks and throbbing in sync with your heartbeat. The room's dim, lit only by your phone screen and a distant streetlamp flickering through the blinds.

You're not texting her.

You refuse to text her first.

Probably.

Wait, does she even have your number?

But then—

[9:41 PM – Unknown Number]

still thinking about the shot i made

tell the WNBA to start scouting me immediately

You sit up so fast your pillow slides to the floor. Your heart? Immediate cardiac tap dance.

[9:42 PM — You]

who is this?

is this the girl who missed the rim like 8 times in a row before finally scoring?

[9:42 PM — Tara Carpenter]

it was 7

i won't be slandered by someone with a busted ankle and an inflated ego

[9:42 PM — You]

i think you secretly loved it

you looked so proud

i haven't seen a smile like that since we team beat NYU

The bubble pops up immediately. Typing. Pausing. Typing again.

[9:43 PM — Tara]

yeah, well

it felt weird

good weird

like... maybe i'm allowed to be proud of something again

You don't breathe for a second. You read it twice, then three more times for no reason other than you need to be sure she meant that.

You settle back, fingers tight around your phone. She's not just flirting. She's letting you in.

[9:44 PM — You]

you are.

you should feel proud more often

i think it looks good on you

There's a pause after that. Your stomach coils, the silence somehow louder than the pain in your ankle.

[9:45 PM — Tara]

you're too nice

it's unsettling

aren't jocks supposed to be emotionally unavailable?

[9:45 PM — You]

oh i am

but you bring out my soft side

congratulations. you've unlocked a new level

You stare at the screen, waiting. Waiting for her to pull back. Make a joke. Pretend it didn't land.

She doesn't.

[9:46 PM — Tara]

careful

keep that up and i might start thinking you're into me or something

Your pulse stutters.

You grin, sharp and stunned.

[9:46 PM — You]

depends

would that be a bad thing?

No answer.

Just the typing bubble. And your heart, doing acrobatics.

Then finally:

[9:48 PM — Tara]

wow

someone's feeling bold tonight

okay, varsity

try not to let the attention go to your head

You drop your phone. Literally drop it onto your chest like you've been hit.

Varsity.

You blink. You swallow. You scream inside. You reread it like it's poetry, like it's prophecy, like it's not the thing that's going to live rent-free in your head for the next decade. A nickname feels different coming from her.

[9:51 PM — You]

"varsity" is wild

not denying it tho

kinda sounds hot when you say it

[9:51 PM — Tara]

i'm immediately regretting it

consider it revoked

[9:51 PM — You]

too late

putting it on my jersey next season

[9:52 PM — Tara]

please don't

i'll transfer schools

[9:52 PM — You]

that sounds like a long-winded way of saying you'd miss me

[9:52 PM — Tara]

shut up

how's your ankle?

You glance down at it. Purple. Angry. Still pretending you're fine. You've been ignoring your dad's insistent calls to you for the night, you're trying to choose peace tonight.

[9:53 PM — You]

loud

dramatic

demanding attention

basically me in bone form

[9:53 PM — Tara]

perfect

you can bond

i'll bring ice and coffee tomorrow

unless that's weird now

Your heart softens. You sit there for a second, staring at the message like it might vanish.

[9:53 PM — You]

not weird

kinda the best thing i've heard all night

[9:54 PM — Tara]

good

see you tomorrow, varsity

You bite your lip so hard it leaves a mark.

[9:54 PM — You]

sweet dreams, final girl

[9:54 PM — Tara]

oh, and next time don’t skip dinner at my apartment

Oh, fuck.

[vbused]

Mentally I’m here

[webbluvrsugar]

hi! i absolutely adore your writing omgg

if it’s not too much trouble i was thinking maybe ethan landry x fem reader and continuing with that dynamic of the dom gf + sub bf in public but vice versa in bed? LOTS of size kink (if you’re comfortable writing it ofc) and maybe some degradation from ethan? ugh that would just be sooo 😩😩😩

tysm in advance, no rush in writing, and don’t forget to eat and drink water!!

— 🦚

a/n: guyyys it’s official!! I have my first emoji anon <333 and of course bae, tyyy sm!!!

proofread

﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆. ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭ casual dominance with Ethan in and out of bed

Outside of bed, it’s like you both have your roles assigned to each other, you take complete dominance, you ask him to do simple thing you could do like — carry your books, your purse and even cleaning your shared dorm for weeks and weeks without stopping, it was something he found particularly annoying, specially when you basically did nothing compared to him.

“Babe, do you think you can wash those dishes for me?” You’d ask the taller man in front of you, standing right next to the sink.

“Can’t you do them? You’re already close and I’m kinda busy right now.” He mutters, focuses on whatever project he’s working in his computer, slightly nibbling on his thumb.

“Come on… you always do them for me.” You say in indignation, crossing your arms and huffing before you sit down on the couch.

“Yeah but I’ve been doing them for weeks, and again, I’m busy.”

It almost serves as a warning, and by now, you’d stop, you’d do your own dishes yourself, but you really can’t find it in you to stop when you just want him to do one simple chore. — Why can’t he do them anyways? He’s not that busy, is he?

“Ethan are you serious? It’s like two dishes and you spend all your time in that computer, you can spare some time to do it for me, it’s not that difficult.”

See, that’s what does it for him, because he finally stops what he’s doing to look back at you, raising a brow as if daring you to keep acting that way, and when you do say something else, it doesn’t take more than two seconds for him to toss you over his shoulder and take you to bed.

He’s on top of you — all over you the way he likes it, fucking some sense into you with some quick and hard thrusts, one hand wrapped around your throat while the other gently holds your waist.

“This is just what you needed, huh?” He scoffs. “Some dick so you can finally learn to stop bothering me and do your own shit.”

You don’t respond, instead, you press your eyes shut while one hand paws at the one at your throat, moaning as you try to make him let go.

“Uh-uh, you’re gonna learn your lesson, you’re gonna learn that when I say no, it means — I’m fucking busy.” He groans.

He squeezes your neck a little tighter, bring his other hand down and slightly fiddles with your clit, loose and messy movements that somehow do get you closer.

“And after this —“ he breathes, leans down to whisper on your neck. “You’re gonna wash your fucking dishes.”

[moonlightsdream]

FILMS in 2025: 43 | Scream VI (2023) — dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillett     

[tvmblrluv]

[samcarpenters]

It’s a scream, baby! TJ MIKELOGAN’s HALLOWEEN 2024 EVENT day thirty ↬ favorite horror movie franchise (insp / template)

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

if requests are open… i beg of you, the ethan writer…. to please write something about ethan being a certified munch… like you can’t tell me he doesn’t eat pussy for a SPORT. sure he’d love you to sit on his face but… i can just imagine him folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you

A/N : Hii ! <3 I loooove your request so much, it just SCREAMS Ethan Landry to me, this man would happily die between your legs if it means he can eat your pussy for hours and make you cum multiple times !! 🤤🖤 Please tell me if I did justice to your request and you know where to find me if you want other Ethan’s fics 😘✨

Ethan Landry lives for eating you out as he loves giving the sweetest pleasure to your pussy…or is it his ?

❦ Even though Ethan Landry is inexperienced when he first starts eating you out, your boyfriend would improve so quickly because of two simple reasons. First, because Ethan wants to do things right and would absolutely listen to your advice when he asks you what feels good or not, taking mental notes of which spot makes you moan the loudest and which pace makes you cum the fastest. Secondly, because Ethan wants - need - to eat you out so frequently that he, anyway, grew to be very good at it.

❦ Ethan would definitely leave hickeys on your inner thighs before he even touches you pussy, his head nicely snuggled between your thighs as he nips, bites, licks and kisses your skin that will show his marks, only for him to know who you really belong to.

❦ He would then press his fingers on your pussy, his thumb rubbing on your clit through the pretty lace material of your panties that he offered you a few days ago, teasing you as Ethan feels the wetness dampen the fabric underneath his fingertips and proudly smiles when he realizes that he can work you up this nicely by barely touching you.

❦ Ethan would also always, and I say always, kiss your pussy through your panties before starting to eat you out, almost like he’s greeting your little cunny like the sweet boyfriend he is.

❦ This man could die between your thighs and he would be the happiest man ever. He would literally overstimulate your pussy for hours because Ethan cannot even realize how long he’s been giving you pleasure and he doesn’t care, he just wants you to feel good and…Ethan also gets excited just by eating you out.

❦ In fact, Ethan would get so painfully hard from pleasing you only with his mouth that he would start humping the bed to get some relief, cumming in his pants a few times seeing how much he’s desperate for you, and only you, making his head spin with pleasure.

❦ I also believe that Ethan’s hair is quite sensitive and with how much you would be pulling on his curly strands when he gives you orgasm one after the other, Ethan would whine, moan and grunt so much against your pussy, creating the most delicious vibrations against your sensitive clit.

❦ If you try to remove his head from your pussy (and if it’s still consensual of course), you won’t have any chance against his strength, his head won’t budge away from you. Nothing will stop Ethan if he isn’t finished with you yet and he will pin you down with his free hand by pressing against your tummy if he has to.

❦ Ethan will also bite your thighs if you contain your sounds of pleasure, he doesn’t want that and absolutely won’t let you do it. Ethan relishes in the way you so beautifully moan his name, whine in a pitched tone when you’re close to your climax and when you softly tell Ethan that you love him between soft whimpers after he overstimulated you.

❦ If he eats you out from behind or when you sit on his face, Ethan makes sure to grab handfuls of your ass while your thighs tremble and shake under his sweet indecent ministrations.

❦ Hell, this man would even eat you out at school between classes when Ethan really can’t wait to have you alone for himself. Ethan would take you to the restroom and press you against the wall as he kneels before going down on you. His head would be snuggled between your thighs as you look down to find his filthy gaze not leaving yours until he can hear you moan his name while you cream on his tongue. It simply feels like heaven to Ethan.

❦ Your boyfriend will even eat you out just to get rid of his stress, as Ethan paws at your skirt and then sliding his hand underneath it to caress the lace of your panties, after you both came back home from a long tiring day. « Please baby… I’m stressed, just need to eat you out real quick… I’ll be good… Can I ? », Ethan pleads you as he nuzzles your pulsating neck with his cold nose, pressing encouraging kisses there.

❦ Ethan feels immensely proud about giving you such pleasure only with his mouth and to hear those sweet sounds of yours mixed with little cries of his name, it all sounds like the most perfect music to his ears. After a session where your boyfriend knows that he did a particularly good job at making you feel good just by seeing the blush on your face, Ethan would silently look at you with a smug smile like the nerd he is.

❦ Ethan would make eye contact with you when he knows you’re close to reaching your climax. His eyes being half lidded white how pussy drunk he is.

❦ If you squirt while he eats you out, Ethan will feel so proud that he won’t ever shut up about it as he gently encourages you to do it again for him.

❦ After giving you so many orgasms with his mouth, a long session that leaves your pussy sensitive and puffy because of his lips, Ethan would so gently and softly kitten licks your pretty cunt and press little kisses on your clit, like the sweet boyfriend he is.

❦ While going down on you and after taking care of you, Ethan would praise you so much as he leaves kisses all over your face and pampers you with lovely words that he reserves only for you, his perfect girlfriend, « You did so well for me, angel. »

❦ Well, Ethan worships your pussy if that wasn’t clear enough.

❦ But what Ethan favors to do the most is folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you and literally do whatever he wants to your pussy. Ethan would sometimes add two of his fingers when he wants to give you even more pleasure while sucking on your clit, twirling his tongue around it and lapping at your folds like the sweet puppy he is as he tries his best to tongue fuck you.

❦ When Ethan’s finished with you, as you’re so overstimulated that your legs go limp when he releases them, barely able to feel your legs anymore seeing how much strength your boyfriend applied on them. Some marks already start forming as Ethan apologetically presses kisses on your bruised skin, his face now covered in your juices as his mouth glistens. Ethan would give you the sloppiest kiss ever to make you taste yourself on his tongue, as he whines in your mouth at the feeling of having done a good job at making you feel good. During this kind of kiss, Ethan feels restless as he uncontrollably paws at your chest and holds your face to deepen the kiss, as he rubs his still hard-on against your pussy. His pants dampened with his cum after cumming in his pants so many times, feels sticky on your skin while he humps himself on your poor overstimulated and swollen clit. Yet, Ethan will never forget aftercare as he cleans you up like his dear little princess before cuddling you. Ethan is the loveliest puppy as he holds you tight in his arms, moving you closer to his body before he gets sleepy and rests his head on your shoulder, snoring lightly in your ear while he nuzzles against your face.

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist ���

[gaypeople]

MELISSA BARRERA as SAM CARPENTER Scream VI (2023)

[liliesdiary]

➢ Face Of An Angel

SYNOPSIS → Ghostface develops an extreme obsession with you, the infamous porn star named soft angel who so happens to be his classmate. The face of an angel and the body of a porn star.

TAGS/WARNINGS → pornstar!reader, dubcon, yandere!ghostface, blackmail, power play, porn addict!ghostface, porn mentioned, porn addiction mentioned, obsessive!ghostface, love struck!ghostface, hyperfem!reader, soft angel porn name, obsessive thoughts, horror porno, knife play, violent threats, ownership obsession, possessive!ghostface, yandere themes & a lot of pink for Valentine's day! @taylormarieee

AUTHOR’S NOTE → this story will be split into multiple parts and will be turned into a series. I'm sorry this took so long to write, this won the poll months ago. Thank you angels for your patience! also trying something different with the theme, tell me if you like it! comment if you want to be tagged in the next parts! [ VIEW IN LIGHT MODE FOR BETTER READING EXPERIENCE ]

DIVIDERS BY → @bernardsbendystraws @nicodefresas

♡ㅤ ⎙ㅤ ⌲

🖱️ CLICK TO DISCOVER THE FACE OF AN ANGEL 🖱️

➢ [◉°] LIVE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM [ ▸ 27.8k LIVE VIEWERS ]

▶ Chat Loading…

▶Press [Start]

You start the stream and the chat floods in, your pink webcam blinking as you expose yourself to your fans. Your body was decorated with pink rope and ribbons, your hair was tied up perfectly in a hairstyle they voted on.

You lay down on your pretty pink bed, kicking your legs as you read the chat, looking like an innocent angel but you were far from innocent. You talk to them sweetly, acting like a saint as you expose your perfect tits for your fans.

The tight pink rope traveled along your chest, making your breasts the center of attention. The center of your chest had a pretty pink heart that showed your infamous tattoo that marked you, ‘soft angel'.

Your face was covered in a pink mask, masking your secret identity. You didn't want anyone to find out who you were, especially anyone who personally knew you.

“Happy early Valentine's day.” You say sweetly, giving the camera a little sweet kiss. You wanted to give them a special live stream today.

LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED

↬ LOADING CHAT…2.7k incoming messages

╰ Anonymous 51 » happy early valentine's day!

╰ David » cute ribbons. makes me want to pull them.

╰ User251 » pretty lips.

╰ JJ21 » be my valentine please!

You smile at the sweet words of your viewers, making their heart flutter with your angelic smile. You then pull out a realistic dildo, kissing the tip and leaving a lipstick stain. You pose for the camera innocently, kicking your feet as you position the camera, angling it so it could look like you were sucking the viewer's cock.

The chat praises you as you suck on the big dildo, your eyes sultry yet still had a glint of Innocence in them. Your warm tongue traveled along the big dildo, teasing the viewers as you gave them doe eyes.

LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED

↬LOADING CHAT...

╰ Ethan99 » fuck, the kiss on the tip made me almost cum.

╰ Deranged Ghost » good slut.

╰ Camslut » the best early valentine's gift ever.

You kept sucking for the chat, moaning sweet names of the people who sent donations. Your cunt dripping with arousal, a puddle beneath you forming.

▶Perverted Daddy Has Sent A $20 Donation!

“Thank you, perverted daddy.” You thank one of your loyal donors, moaning his name sweetly as you lick the tip of the dildo, which motivates your chat to give more donations to hear you moan their name.

As the stream is filled with sweet kisses and donations, you received a huge donation from him. your love sick stalker.

▶Lovesick Anonymous Has Sent A $200 Donation!

╰ Lovesick anonymous: sweet angel.

You read his donation, accidentally moaning louder than you should as your heart fluttered. His sweet words always made your cunt throbbed, he always spent so much money on you. You can't help but make a puddle on the floor as you continue sucking on the dildo, closing your eyes and pretending like it was his cock. The first time you pictured yourself sucking off one of your fans.

Your eyes flutter open as you hear the donation ping, he sent another generous donation.

▶ Lovesick Anonymous Has Sent Another $200 Donation!

╰ lovesick anonymous: cum for me, angel.

Your heart fluttered and you immediately obeyed, feeling a wave of ecstasy you've never felt before. Your hole pulsed, the urge to have a cock buried inside you has never felt so strong before.

You continue to flutter your eyes at the camera as cum drips down your inner thighs, the pink rope stained with your filth. You can only imagine who the lovesick anonymous was, what he was doing as he watched you ruin yourself for him.

You felt yourself blushing, closing your eyes as you kept sucking the cock like a good angel. More donations followed yet you didn't open your eyes for them, you only wanted to open your eyes for him.

You start to hear an inbox ping from your laptop behind the webcam, you can see the private messages filling your inbox, unaware that they were from your stalker.

Then you start to get private donations, the ping making your eyes flutter as you read the bone chilling words.

▶ Love sick Anonymous: you're mine, angel. I know where you live, maybe I'll come over and visit, Break your pretty angel wings and keep you forever. doesn't that sound lovely for a dumb pathetic angel like you?

His threat sends you shivers down your spine, your soft body trembling at the thought of him breaking in. You were overwhelmed, your mouth stopping as your eyes were wide and shaking.

You wanted to turn off the stream but he sends another large private donation.

▶Lovesick Anonymous Has Sent Another $200

╰ Lovesick anonymous: don't be scared, angel. keep sucking like a good angel, I'm almost finished.

Your cunt throbbed at his words, ignoring all the other fans as you keep sucking the dildo out of fear. Your body couldn't stop trembling at his threat, your soft moans muffled around the dildo. You were too scared to stop.

You tried your best for him, licking and sucking the dildo as if your life depended on it. And who knows? Maybe it did.

Your heart couldn't stop beating yet you couldn't deny the puddle that was still forming beneath your drenched cunt. Your eyes looked up as you heard another ping, another big donation, the biggest donation anyone has ever sent to you.

▶Lovesick Anonymous Has Sent A $666 Donation!!

╰ Lovesick anonymous: good girl.

His generous donation made your heart flutter. You've never felt your heart actually skip a beat until now. And fuck, that much money?

You couldn't help but feel flustered by the praise from your anonymous fan. The amount of money he sent you made your eyes sparkle.

“Thank you, Lovesick for your generous donation.” You can feel your heart beating in your chest, your trembling eyes staring at the webcam as you wondered who this lovesick anonymous was and if he really did know where you lived.

➢ [◉°] OFFLINE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM

You had turned off the livestream, still trembling from your stalker’s threat. You opened your laptop and immediately noticed that you had received a Love Mail from Lovesick anonymous.

Open Inbox? 「 YES 」 or 「 YES 」

[lukaskyle-moved]

SCREAM VI (2023) dir. Tyler Gillett & Matt Bettinelli-Olpin

[tylrgalpins]

SCREAM VI (2023) — dir. Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettinelli-Olpin

[deathtown]

Scream VI (2023)

[webbluvrsugar]

you asked for requests and you shall recieve my baby!

i’m obsessed with the idea of ethan x popular!bimbo! reader. she’s always dressed to the nines, loves pink, smells so sweet and he’s just so obsessed with her

a/n: omg!!! yesyesyes, Ethan would sooooo freak out with a bimbo r!! and also ty so much, saved my life T-T

Ethan Landry and his pretty bimbo girlfriend!

Ethan never truly understood what he did to deserve you.

Seriously, he just didn't get it.

He was only a nerd, a geek obsessed with horror movies, a mundane overshadowed guy — if you don't count the massive killing he does at night — he's just a normal person, some would even say boring.

And you... you're everything. You're popular, always circled by a big group of friends, always wearing pretty pink little outfits, always wearing large heels that sometimes get you taller than him, and honestly, he doesn't mind it, he stands proudly next to you when you're walking with him, likes it when your hair flies all over his face and he can scent the mix of sweets you put on as perfume today, likes to identify if you're wearing strawberry or passionfruit - but sometimes, he can tell which one by your outfits.

Plus, he's a good boyfriend, he doesn't think he's all that but you always tell him so when honestly he's just doing the bare minimum to keep a girl like you. He holds your hair out of the way when you're eating so it doesn't get stuck in your gloss, he holds your hand when going up the stairs so you don't fall, he makes sure your makeup is removed after you've had too many drinks so you don't complain the next day, and truthfully, he likes this lifestyle.

How couldn't he? He's obsessed with you.

Obsessed with the cheerful smiles, the pink lipstick stains on his neck, the way you laugh, the way you bounce on him and make his eyes roll back like he's the best dick you've ever had, the way you leave rings of lipstick on the base of his cock, the way you kiss him in front of everyone just to make him blush.

But especially, he likes it when you're a brat, when you cry and shout and act pissed at him, just for the pleasure of pinning you on those sheets, pulling your hair and give you what you've been wanting all day.

"If — if you wanted dick, y´could´ve said so," he grinds into you slowly, the same loving way he shows you affection off bed. "No need to be a bitch." he grunts, pace quickening as he shoves your head down on the sheets.

"I'll always give you what you need, hm?"

And sometimes, he even believes he's a good boyfriend.

[roryculkinluvr]

you should 110% make p*rn master lists for scream!!!

𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐏*𝐑𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ੈ✩‧₊˚

➸ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charlie walker x fem reader, billy loomis x fem reader, stu macher x fem reader, ethan landry x fem reader, chad meeks-martin x fem reader

➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: twitter p*rn links, oral (f/m receiving), p in v, unprotected p in v, switch! reader, mutual masturbation, fingering, breeding.

➸ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: these are videos that remind me of my favourite scream men, i’ll be updating this every so often! the links only work if you’re logged in on twitter!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 ♡

charlie fingers you while you watch a movie

charlie praising you during fluffy morning sex

mutual masturbation with charlie

teasing charlie with your cunt

riding charlie in a skirt

riding charlie part two

playing with charlie’s cock

soft dom charlie worshiping you while he breeds you

𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒 ♡

dom billy fucking you from behind

billy fucking you while your parents aren’t home

billy eating you out

billy with breeding kink

billy sucking on your tits

letting dom billy use you

needy sub billy eating you out

ruining sub billy’s orgasm

𝐒𝐓𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ♡

stu slapping your pussy

stu teasing your clit with his tip

bouncing on stu’s cock

bouncing on stu’s cock part two

stu overstimulating you

stu fingering your wet pussy

making sub stu cum in his boxers from dry humping

sub stu sucking your tits

squirting on sub stu’s face

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘 ♡

over stimulating sub ethan

ethan eating you out

ethan fingering you while you kiss his neck

ethan fucking you from behind

ethan fucking you from the back part two - this one looks exactly like him it’s insane

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒-𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍 ♡

making out with chad in his dorm

chad with a breeding kink

giving bf! chad head after a party

chad fingering you and playing with your tits

idk this is just very chad to me

[junkfoodcinemas]

Jenna Ortega & Melissa Barrera as Tara & Sam Carpenter Scream VI (2023) dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett