#I've been putting him through The Horrors

[thewayitalknj]

I've been listening to a lot of Mötley Crüe lately to hopefully manifest me seeing them in Las Vegas next year. Came up with this while driving, which is how a lot of my ideas come to be recently. Word Count - 1.6k

"Come on please, I have no idea what they have planned and it's killing me." He was practically begging you at this point. You roll your eyes as you walk down the next aisle, stacking the next set of 'romantic comedies' that just came in.

"Eddie, it's your birthday, it's supposed to be a surprise. And can you please stop bugging me while I'm working?"

"Yeah yeah sure I'll stop bugging you" he grits his teeth, "if you tell me what they have planned."

You turn around fully facing him, pushing your glasses back up your nose, taking your voice down to a whisper. "Look I truly have no idea what the fuck they have planned so please stop asking. Just be grateful they're doing something with you and you're not spending your birthday alone." You turn back around, making your way to the 'horror' section.

"At least come with me-"

"I can't, I have my bookclub tonight. But come to my place and tell me all about your guys night tomorrow if you're not too hungover."

He huff's his breath up, his bangs moving in the process. "Thanks a lot."

"I'm sure you'll have a blast."

A strip club. A fucking strip club. As much as Eddie appreciated what his friends were doing this is not what he expected. All he wanted was a guy's night in playing D&D and watching movies but no, his friends had to go all out.

The worst part is it was 'dress up night', so the strippers would be in various costumes. His friends thought the better, dress up plus dancing ladies ; what more could anyone ask for?

After a few hours sitting in a booth a few drinks in, an announcement sounded over the DJ speakers ; "alright everyone we have a birthday in the house! We want to welcome our birthday boy in Booth 21 to come on up for a special dance!" As everyone roared with excitement Eddie blushed under the neon lights.

"Why are y'all doing this to me?"

Garth pushes him forward, "Because we love you, NOW GO!" Eddie reluctantly makes his way up and sits on the chair provided for him. He drums nervously on his knees waiting for the song to start.

The next dancer comes to take the stage, dressed in all red, devil horns, and a red laced mask. Her hair is curled, not one piece left undone. She steps into the spotlight, and Eddie swears time halts and he has to take breath in order to steady himself. He is mesmerized. She slowly makes her way over, putting her hands on both sides of the chair. She eyes him up and down smirking to herself and as her song begins to play ; taking control of the room.

Eddie feels like he's fallen under some sort of spell, like something he wrote out for a campaign. He's so enthralled he completely forgot he was in a room with other people. He watches every move she makes ; the way her hips sway, how she doesn't come too close but just enough to tease him, and the way she makes eye contact with him? Forget about it ; Eddie swears he's falling in love with her right then and there, even though this was his first interaction with the mystery woman.

And in the three minutes the song plays, Eddie is so thankful his friends took him out. He tries to memorize every detail of the devil, just in case he decides to come back another time. Maybe on his own? Maybe with buddies again? Who knows, but he just had to remember her. Particular details ran through his head ; the hair style, the color of her eyes, and while she moved her body up against his, he noticed a small birthmark on the left side of her body, ironically shaped like a heart right above her heart ; and be still his own heart. Right when the music fades and the crowd begins to cheer breaking him out of his headspace, she leans in to his ear and with a sultry voice whispers "happy birthday sweetheart" and it's right then and there Eddie could have been shot through the chest by an arrow and he would feel no pain.

His posse of course never let him see the end of it, with constant teasing as the night went on. One thing was for sure, he could not wait to tell you about his night in the morning.

Eddie couldn't wait, he was practically banging at your door at 9:00am. You reach for your glasses on the nightstand, pull your hair in a messy bun and make your way towards the front door. You look through the peephole and Eddie is waving.

"Ed, what the hell-"

"I gotta tell you about last night." He races in, high on adrenaline pacing your living room.

"Good morning to you too-" You shut the front door, "can I please make some coffee first? I'm exhausted."

"Bookclub ran late?"

"Something like that. Want a cup?"

"Sure, thanks." You sulk to the kitchen and make your coffee, wondering what the hell has Eddie all wound up. You make your way back, handing him his cup as he takes a seat on your couch. "Damn, what book are you ladies reading that has you staying up so late?"

"It's nothing. So tell me, how was your birthday?"

"Amazing, they took me to a strip club."

You swallow your coffee, hard. "Oh wow, what an event."

"You're telling me, it was incredible. Well at least, she was incredible."

"Oh god Eddie don't tell me you fell in love with a dancer-"

"You don't understand. There was just something about her, I-I know it sounds corny but it was like magic. I've never felt like that before." He looks around your living room, then reaching over and grabs your shoulders playfully, shaking you. "Am I going crazy?!"

You laugh, "I don't think so. I just find it hilarious that it's a fucking stripper you're talking about."

"Yeah, well-" Just as Eddie begins to move his arms something catches his eye.

A birthmark. On the left side of your body. In the shape of a heart. He looks into your eyes, the same color and sparkle that were under the mask. He looks at your hair, it's normally straight, why does it look curly and wavy?

All these small details come together in his head. He moves his hands off you and runs them through his own hair, piecing everything together.

"So yeah, uh-enough about me...how was...bookclub?"

"Oh god you don't wanna hear about my bookclub. Why-"

"No no, I do..want to hear....about the bookclub. Please tell me." He takes another sip of his coffee, staring at the birth mark.

You follow his eyes, "is there something on me?"

"Hm, no. Just....so, bookclub?"

"Oh you know, just another night of girl talk about a steamy romance novel and too much wine, just the norm." Eddie can't even think straight, all the events from last night come rushing to his head.

You ponder at him wondering if he's okay, "sweetheart are you alright? You're starting to worry me."

Sweetheart, a nickname normally used frequently but now it's different. He jolts up from your couch. "I gotta go. Dustin and I have...stuff-to do."

You're dismayed, just nodding your head. "Um okay, but if you need anything just let me know-"

"Yeah uh thanks. And thanks for uh the coffee and...talk."

He speedily exits your home, and you're left wondering if maybe just maybe...

Just a Few Hours Ago

You stand off stage looking out to the man sitting on the chair. Only to realize it was Eddie.

"Oh shit-"

"What's up girl? Everything okay?" Your co-worker, Jade, comes up behind you.

"I-I can't go out. You take my slot instead."

"What, why? I'm not on for another 20, why do you want to switch?" She signals to Cassie, the DJ, to hold off on the music. Cassie gives a thumbs up and waits.

"I know the guy sitting in the chair, he's one of my friends. I can't...dance for him."

"Why? He won't know it's you, we're all dressed up tonight."

"Yeah but it's just...awkward that I know and he...doesn't."

"Look, I understand where you're coming from but I think you should just do it. He won't know it's you, does he know you work here?"

"No no, he's here with his friends for his birthday," You watch him drum on his legs, probably nerves. "I wouldn't picture him as someone who would want to come out and do this but, there he is."

"So, give him the dance of his life. Something he'll never forget. Remember, you're not going out as yourself." You nodded your head, Jade was right. You signal back to Cassie to start your song when ready. You quietly thank Jade, take a deep breath and take the stage.

24 Hours Later

As you apply your lipstick looking in the mirror, your other coworker Bianca comes in. "Hey B! How was your daughter's band recital?"

She takes a seat next to you giving you a half hug. "It was great! She crushed her solo, I'm so proud of her."

"That's incredible. I can't wait to see the tape!"

"Oh before I forget, Pam wanted me to tell you you got a private dance at 10:30."

"Wait, really?" You ponder, turning around in the chair. "I haven't done a private dance in weeks."

"Guess someone really likes you because they asked for you specifically."

"Oh wow. Really? Okay then, thanks for the heads up."

"No problem, be safe!"

Once 10:30 rolls around you make your way to Room #2, opening the door and stopping dead in your tracks the moment you see who it is, casually lounging on the couch.

"Sup sweetheart?"

Quick Notes - Hope you enjoyed! :) Thank you for reading! Reblogs are much appreciated! Maybe Part 2? idk.

[luxiedrawsshit42]

Koma sketch dump from Thanksgiving break until like a couple weeks ago because why the hell not

[retquits]

hewwo i love your fanart BUT i dont know much about ur ocs !!!! is there an oc(s) of yours you'd like to ramble about?? xx

thank you so much for asking?! 😭😭😭 AHH

actually, i'm really obsessed with my fields of mistria oc, monroe!!

💙 i have a full page dedicated to him here 💙 (including his bio and a lot of unpublished art that i'll post here eventually - i'm addicted to drawing him)

he's a very weary ex-adventurer with a pretty unpleasant past who moved to mistria in hopes of just quietly disappearing/fading away. he's malnourished, has terrible posture, doesn't know how old he is, has big feral cat energy, and doesn't know how to handle people being kind to him. i love him and his silly blue farm so much

[storekn1fe]

denji csm makes me so sad like how many horrible things can happen to one kid

[nocentis]

Black Arum ┆ Siegrain

Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.

╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.

A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.

That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails ��� more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.

So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.

╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.

Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.

Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.

There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.

“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.

The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.

He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.

Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands. 

Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”

Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.

A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.

His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.

"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”

The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.

His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.

He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.

He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”

Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her. 

He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.

But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.

He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.

The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow.  A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.

Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.

It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.

Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.

He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.

This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.

A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.

She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.

What are these hands for if not this?

Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.

The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.

Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it. 

What are these teeth for if not this?

Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.

The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.

He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.

Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.

He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.

You’re no better than this starving world.

He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.

[dragonleighs]

How to make the arena fight in fallen order even worse for Cal? Add in a bunch of unavoidable and traumatic echoes!

[theostrophywife]

— sugar, i've got a taste for you.

NAVIGATION // inbox. | tags. | writing. | library. | moodboard.

pairing: theodore nott x reader x mattheo riddle.

song inspiration: sugar by sleep token.

author's note: happy halloween ya'll! this isn't a trick, @writingsbychlo and I are once again back with a treat. enjoy my spookie pookies.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

You settled in between Theo and Mattheo, handing each boy their own respective popcorn bowls. Mattheo’s was simple — homestyle with enough butter to send a healthy grown adult into cardiac arrest, while Theo’s was sprinkled with candy and chocolate to satisfy his sweet tooth. You alternated grabbing handfuls from each of their bowls, hence your strategic position of being sandwiched between your best friends. 

“I don’t have one,” you responded after popping a sour gummy worm into your mouth. 

Mattheo looked incredulous. “That’s impossible. Everyone has a favorite.” 

“Mattheo is right,” Theo added in agreement. “There’s the cult classics: Halloween, Friday the 13th, Child’s Play, A Nightmare on Elm Street…” 

“I’ll even allow the newer additions, which aren’t as good as the originals.” Mattheo grinned sheepishly at your pointed look. Between the three of you, he was by far the biggest movie snob. “Hereditary? Pearl? The Strangers?” He pretended to shudder in disgust. “Even…the Purge?”

You shrugged. “I’m more of a romcom type of girl.” 

Theo sighed. “Horror is wasted on you, bella.” 

“It’s not my fault you two always outvote me,” you responded with an eye roll. “Speaking of which, what are we watching tonight?” 

Mattheo and Theo wore matching grins as they answered in unison. “Scream.” 

When the movie started playing on the projector in the living room, you snuggled up under the blanket and prepared yourself for another terrifying movie night. You honestly had no idea why you put yourself through this every week. Scary movies terrified you, but the boys always managed to sweet talk you into watching them. 

Usually, Theo distracted you by reciting horror trivia facts. Your best friend did so now, informing you that the movie’s title was inspired by a Michael Jackson song, but the fun little tidbit barely registered. As it turns out, you had no need for distractions tonight. For once, you didn’t flinch or hide or tuck your head into Mattheo or Theo’s neck. Instead, your eyes were glued to the screen. Every time Ghostface appeared, you bit your lip and clenched your thighs. 

You blamed your latest smutty read and your overactive imagination for the reaction. The last novel you devoured featured erotic scenes enacted by not one, but two masked men. The sheer filth of it left you flushed and flustered, a fact that piqued Theo’s curiosity earlier this week. 

Perhaps you should’ve focused on your studies rather than uncovering your newfound mask kink, but you couldn’t help it. The book captured your attention in a way that your Potions homework could only dream of. Nosy little git that he was, Theo attempted to peek at the page over your shoulder. Luckily, you escaped what would’ve been a rather embarrassing conversation by smacking him upside the head and walking away in a huff. 

You managed to evade the situation with your dignity still intact. 

Or so you thought. 

Unbeknownst to you, Theo had snuck into your dorm later that day and borrowed — okay, so maybe stole was more accurate —  your book to see what had his best friend all hot and bothered. He couldn’t believe the absolute filth you were casually reading in his presence. Naturally, Theo shared this interesting little discovery with Mattheo. From there, a plan was formed. 

The first thing that should’ve tipped you off was Mattheo excusing himself for a cigarette. Matty never took a smoke break during movie night. He said it ruined the cinematic experience. Unfortunately, you were too engrossed in the movie to notice him slip away. 

“I’m gonna get a refill,” Theo announced. “You want anything from the kitchen, bella?” 

You shook your head absentmindedly. Theo smirked to himself as he watched you in the doorway. Any other time, you would’ve insisted on coming with Theo, anxiously fisting the edge of his cardigan and clinging on like a koala as you hugged him from behind. 

Theo could’ve watched you all day, but the way you gaped when Billy Loomis licked red dye off of his fingers reminded him to stay focused. There were other things at play tonight. 

Unaware of Theo’s nefarious plans, you continued to shovel popcorn into your mouth while watching the big reveal at the edge of your seat. You were in your own little world. It wasn’t until the credits started rolling when you finally realized you were alone. As the movie faded to black, you startled when the sound of your ringtone sliced through the silence. 

You blinked at your phone, thumb hovering over the Unknown Number flashing across the bright screen. That was odd. Everyone knew you weren’t big on talking on the phone. Besides, who even called nowadays? That’s what texting was for.

Part of you wanted to let it ring and run its course, but a bigger part of you — the morbidly curious part of you — won in the end. 

“Hello?” 

The voice on the other end was distorted and difficult to identify. You had no idea who was on the other end, but they knew you. “Hello, Y/N.” 

“Who is this?” 

“I’ll give you one guess.” 

Your fingers shook as you glanced at the phone in confusion. “Who are you?” 

“That’s not the way the game works, little mouse.” 

“I don’t play games.” 

“What if your life depended on it?” 

Anger boiled to the surface in response to the stranger’s threat. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“You’re pretty when you’re angry, little mouse.” 

His words stopped you cold. A shiver went down your spine as you gravitated towards the window, glancing at the street below. At this hour, people milled about the main square in flocks. Any of them could be the person on the other line. 

You started to panic, but remembered you weren’t alone in the house. Theo was in the kitchen supposedly refilling on snacks. It was the perfect cover to play one of his little practical jokes on you. 

“That’s not funny, Teddy.” You huffed in annoyance. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

The other line was silent as you made your way towards the kitchen. 

“Seriously, you’re freaking me out. Can you please just come back and cuddle?” 

From the hallway, you heard the sounds of shuffling. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, bella. Teddy’s here to save you from the big bad wolf—”

Color drained from your face as you rounded the corner. Theo was coming towards you with a fresh bowl of popcorn, but he wasn’t alone. Lurking in the shadows, Ghostface pressed the phone against his ear and waved.  

“Boo.” 

You screamed, scrambling towards Theo as you nearly dropped your phone on the floor.  

“What’s wrong, bella?” 

You responded by tugging your best friend by the wrist, the bowl of popcorn tumbling out of his hands and scattering all over the wooden floorboards. “Run, Teddy, run!” 

The two of you sprinted up the stairs hand in hand. The house was dark, slivers of moonlight creeping through the windows while you and Theo ran blindly. Thinking quickly, you tugged him into the nearest closet. Theo’s hand shook as he pressed a finger up to your lips. 

With a nod, you held your breath as Ghostface stomped up the stairs. Fear surged through your veins, small whimpers escaping your lips involuntarily. The floorboards creaked as he crept his way through the second floor. When the masked man’s shadow drew closer, Theo pulled you into his chest and pressed his hand against your mouth. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Ghostface sang in a mocking tone. His voice echoed through the walls, giving an even eerier feel to an already fucked up night. “I’m waiting for you, little mouse.” 

Your ragged breaths were silenced as you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus on the steady beating of Theo’s heart. Your best friend gripped your hips in place, his silver rings cold against your bare skin. You wondered how they would feel pressed against other parts of your body. You bit your lip at the sensation, mentally scolding yourself for all the inappropriate thoughts running wild in your lust addled brain. 

Luckily, Theo was none the wiser. Seconds felt like hours as Ghostface lurked around the corner, trashing rooms in his wake. The sound of furniture crashing and glass breaking filled the otherwise silent house as you struggled to hold it together. 

When the squeak of boots stopped right outside the door, you pressed into Theo for comfort, praying to whatever deity that the two of you could remain hidden. You clutched the end of your best friend’s cardigan as Ghostface stopped right outside the door. 

Whatever hope you might’ve had of hiding was ripped to shreds when Ghostface yanked the door open. It was terrifying enough to see his cloaked figure boxing you in, but the knife in his gloved hand caused your fear to skyrocket. Theo threw himself between you and the masked man, urging you to run. 

“Go, Y/N!” Your best friend commanded. “Don’t let the bastard catch you.” 

“No, I’m not leaving you!” 

“I’ll be fine,” Theo said unconvincingly as he dodged Ghostface’s blade. “Hide and I’ll find you, okay?” 

“But, Theo —“ 

“Please, bella.” 

The argument died in your throat as Ghostface lunged towards you. He grabbed you by the hair, yanking you towards him. As you fought back, the masked man pinned you against the wall. 

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” 

Your breath hitched as he ran his blade over your cheek. “Such a pretty face,” he murmured. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, little mouse?” 

“Fuck you,” you spat vehemently. 

Ghostface chuckled darkly as he lowered his face to yours. He teased his knife along your thighs, the steel climbing higher and higher until it rested against your clothed core. You keened at the cold sensation against your clit. It was so wrong, but it felt so fucking right. 

“I will if you beg me nicely,” Ghostface drawled. “Maybe if you got on your knees and sucked my cock, I’ll give you what you really want. I’m dying to split you apart, little mouse.” 

“Go to hell!” 

You drove your knee into Ghostface’s crotch and made a run for it just as Theo tackled him into the other room. Your best friend frantically instructed you to escape once again. As much as you didn’t want to leave him, you knew you had to escape and get help. 

Stumbling down the stairs, you fumbled for your phone. With shaky hands, you dialed emergency services. The dial tone flatlined in your ears, indicating that the lines were down. Likely thanks to Ghostface. 

You screamed in frustration, tears blurring your vision as you tried and failed to concoct a back up plan. Running past the bathroom, you jerked when a hand shot out in the dark to grab your wrist. You started to fight back, hitting and kicking at whatever you could. 

“It’s me, princess,” Mattheo said. 

“Matty?” 

Mattheo nodded as he dragged you into the bathroom. “What happened?” 

“There’s— there’s a psycho in the house. It’s Ghostface. He has a knife. He’s— Theo— oh god, I left Theo alone with him. I didn’t want to, but he told me to go.” 

You were hyperventilating, your chest tightening to the point of pain. “Shh, it’s okay,” Mattheo cooed. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll get Theo back, but first we have to hide, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

At your nod, Mattheo directed you towards the bathtub. He instructed you to lay on your back as he drew the curtains. You held your breath as Mattheo lowered himself, his body hovering over yours while the two of you came face to face. 

“We have to be quiet,” Mattheo whispered. The low, smoky tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. 

Though a psychotic masked man prowled the house, you couldn’t control your body’s reaction. The delicious heat radiating off of Mattheo was impossible to ignore. Especially since he was so close your lips were nearly touching. 

“You’re doing great, Y/N,” he praised. 

You should’ve been scared. You were both in danger, but there was something about being in close proximity that awakened arousal within you. First Theo, now Mattheo. It wasn’t surprising. You’ve never been able to choose between your two favorite boys. 

Just as Mattheo’s eyes dipped down to your lips, Theo’s scream pierced through the tension. Guilt washed over you instantly. Theo was out there fighting for his life while you were thinking sinful thoughts about his best mate. 

“Stay right here, princess,” Mattheo commanded. 

“No, no, please Matty, don’t leave—”

“I have to help Theo,” he explained. “But we’ll come back for you. Just stay put, okay?” 

Unshed tears rimmed your eyes as you nodded. Mattheo squeezed your hip before stepping out of the tub. He looked back when you caught his wrist.

“Be careful, Matty,” you whispered. “And please, get Teddy back. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to either one of you.” 

Mattheo kissed your forehead in agreement. As he slipped out of the bathroom, your anxiety spiked once more. For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence. Then the sound of raised voices drew your attention. It sounded like an argument of some sort before you heard a sickening crunch, like a body crashing against the wall. 

You heard Mattheo screaming out Theo’s name, launching you into action. Fuck staying in the sidelines. Your boys needed your help. 

The scene in the living room was chaotic. Mattheo was nowhere to be found. Theo was on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. Something flashed in the corner of your vision, a hint of silver that caught your attention. It distracted you momentarily, allowing Ghostface the opportunity to shove you aside. 

The moment of realization hit you too late. Ghostface was already charging towards Theo while brandishing his signature knife. Time slowed as you screamed, crawling towards your best friend while glass crunched underneath you. 

You watched in horror as Ghostface stabbed your best friend in the stomach, blood gushing down the front of Theo’s shirt while you screamed. With shaking hands, you tried to stanch the bleeding by putting pressure on the wound. Tears spilled onto your cheeks as his cardigan turned crimson. 

Brushing his hair off his forehead, you leaned down and cupped his cheek. “Teddy? Stay with me, please.” 

His skin felt cold and clammy under your fingertips. You looked around frantically, trying to track the psychotic killer that just stabbed your best friend. A scream tore through your throat when a hand gripped your wrist. 

Underneath you, Theo’s eyes fluttered open. “Surprise, bella.” 

You drew back in surprise, scooting right into the masked man behind you. “What’s the matter, princess?” A familiar voice whispered as he discarded his disguise. Mattheo flashed you a sinister smirk. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Mattheo pulled Theo up off the floor, the two of them laughing while you stared in disbelief at the shocking reveal. When it clicked that Theo was perfectly fine, your concern morphed into rage. 

“What the fuck?” You put a palm over your heart, trying to slow down its erratic beating. “You guys are assholes!” 

“Aw, don’t be mad, Y/N. It’s just a harmless prank.” 

“Prank?” You screeched. “I thought you were hurt, you fucking prick. I thought you were gone—”

Theo’s expression softened when he saw your teary eyed gaze. “I’m not, cara mia. I’m not hurt. It’s fake, I promise.” 

Mattheo kneeled beside you, licking the edge of the fake blade. “S’just corn syrup, sugar.” 

Theo nodded in agreement, bringing his fingers up to his lips. He sucked his middle and pointer finger clean, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“It’s sweet,” Theo murmured, brushing his thumb over your lips. “Do you want a taste, bella?” 

You shook your head vehemently. “No, I’m mad at you,” you replied with a huff. Looking up at Mattheo, you crossed your arms and frowned. “You too, Mattheo.” 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Mattheo drawled, laying on the sweet talk. “Don’t be like that. You know you love us, even if we’re a pain in your ass sometimes.” 

“99% of the time,” you corrected with an eye roll. 

“You cracked a smile,” Mattheo teased. “We’ll take it.” 

“I’m still really fucking upset at the both of you.” 

Theo hummed, slipping on the twin to Mattheo’s mask. You held your breath as Ghostface took his place. 

“Oh, but I don’t think you’re that upset, bella.” The mask distorted his voice, but you could still tell it was him. “I think you enjoyed yourself.” 

“Admit it, princess,” Mattheo purred into your ear, his mask firmly back on. “This turns you on, doesn’t it?” 

You flushed, crimson flooding your cheeks. Theo trapped you against Mattheo, his hands settling on your hips as you gasped. 

“Don’t try to deny it,” Theo whispered. “I read your book, dolcezza. The filth and smut in there… well, let’s just say it made us both blush. Who would’ve known that a sweet little thing like you would have a mask kink?”

“You stole my book!”

“So what if we did?” Mattheo said with a lazy shrug. “What if we memorized all the depraved things that you love reading about just so we could turn your fantasy into a reality?” 

“What are you saying?” 

“The more we read, the more we realized it was pretty similar to Scream. Anonymous phone calls? Check. Masked men? Check.” Theo hummed as he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Pretty helpless victim? Check.” 

“We wanted to act out your book,” he continued with a smirk. “With one exception.” He held up a video camera and focused it on your face. “Mattheo and I thought that since you don’t have a favorite scary movie, maybe we could help you make one.” 

“I think we’ve just about reached the climax,” Mattheo whispered in your ear, his curls tickling the side of your neck. “What happens next is up to you. What do you say, little mouse? Do you wanna play?” 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

You didn’t even need time to think about it. You trusted Theo and Mattheo with your life. Putting yourself at their mercy was something you shamelessly fantasized about countless times.  

“We hoped you’d say that,” Theo said with a smirk as he looked at you through the lens.

Without warning, Mattheo gripped your chin roughly and lifted his mask up just enough to crush your lips together. He tasted like cinnamon and cigarettes and the smoky taste left you dizzy. You wondered if it was the nicotine that had you buzzing, but you were pretty sure you were just high on Mattheo. His kisses were deep and sensual, exploring every inch of you with a level of hunger that couldn’t be satiated. The low groan that rumbled through his chest made your core throb. 

Mattheo dragged your hand down his chest, smiling into the kiss as your nails raked over his abs. The hard muscles flexed underneath your fingertips, distracting you momentarily and allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue deeper into your mouth. You gasped as he guided your hand to his hard length. 

“You feel that, princess?” Mattheo grunted. “That’s what you do to me. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.” 

You batted your eyelashes up at him. “What can I do to help, Matty?” 

“On your knees,” he commanded. “Let’s give Theo a show.” 

Theo positioned himself in front of you as you sank down to your knees. The camera whirred while he zoomed in on your face. 

“How do I look, Teddy?” 

“You look perfect, bella. You were made for the camera,” Theo praised. “Our little superstar.” 

Mattheo hummed as you unbuckled his belt. His warm brown eyes were nearly black with lust through the mask when you pulled his pants and boxers down, revealing his hard length. You massaged him in your hand, your mouth watering at how thick and long his cock was. Mattheo released a shaky breath when you licked the precum off of his tip, looking up at him with big doe eyes before you licked the underside of his shaft. 

You watched as his head lolled in the mask, satisfaction coursing through your veins at the sight of him grappling with his self-control. Mattheo moaned when you took him all the way back, his cock stuffing your throat deliciously. You bobbed your head up and down at a steady rhythm, holding your breath while you continued pumping him in your hand. 

“Fuck, just like that,” Mattheo groaned as he thrusted into your mouth. He fisted your hair in his hand and drove in deeper, causing you to gag. “You look so pretty gagging on my cock, little mouse.” 

Drool dribbled down your chin and tears filled your eyes while Mattheo continued fucking your throat. Theo hummed in appreciation, making sure to capture all of your best angles. You made sure to show off for the camera and licked and sucked until Mattheo’s breathing grew short and ragged. You could tell by the way his abs clenched that he was close. 

Mattheo yanked your hair back, his thrusts growing sloppy and rushed. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Swallow it all, sugar,” he purred as hot spurts of his cum shot down your throat. You did as you were told and slurped up every drop. You were sure that you looked like a hot mess; your hair disheveled, your eyes smeared with mascara, your lips dripping with cum, but Mattheo had never looked prouder. “That’s a good girl.” 

“My turn,” Theo said as he handed the camera off to Mattheo.  

You crawled towards him and tugged on his belt, but Theo shook his head. “There’s plenty of time for that later, cara mia. Right now, I want to eat your pussy until you cry.” 

You couldn’t help but flush at the vulgar words, which made Mattheo chuckle. “I think our little mouse likes the sound of that.” 

You didn’t have time to respond before Theo hauled you over his shoulder and placed you on the sofa. You bounced against the cushions, watching curiously as he spread your legs wide open. Theo raised the mask slightly and rested it over his brown waves before kissing you slowly.

“You taste so sweet,” he purred. “I bet your pussy is sweet like sugar too.”

From this vantage point, all you could see was the Ghostface mask. Theo tugged your panties off and discarded it over his shoulder. His cool breath fanned over your thighs as he trailed kisses between your legs. Theo took his time while he sucked and kissed and marked you up. You could feel his smirk against your skin when he finally reached your dripping core, his mouth hot and eager as he licked a stripe along your slit. You arched against his mouth, bucking your hips upwards shamelessly. 

Mattheo filmed you at your most vulnerable state — eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted in a silent moan, and fingers threaded through Theo’s hair. Your moans encouraged Theo to drive his tongue deeper past your folds, licking and sucking and devouring you in a way that almost seemed reverent. When Theo added his fingers into the mix, you were out of your mind with pleasure. 

Your pussy clenched as Theo curled his middle and pointer finger inside your walls. The soft pants and squelching sounds that filled the room was erotic, even more so as Mattheo filmed a close up of Theo feasting on your cunt. Your arousal dripped off his chin, but it didn’t deter him from driving you to the brink, his thumb firmly circling your clit to coax you towards release. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” Theo murmured. You gasped for air as he filled you with his fingers, pumping and scissoring until a familiar sensation began to build in your core. “You’re so fucking wet, bella. I can’t wait for you to cream my cock.” 

The obscene declaration pushed you over the edge. The climax swelled within you until you were awash with blinding heat. Your surroundings turned fuzzy as your senses were overloaded with pleasure. Despite the intensity of your orgasm, Theo showed no signs of slowing down. He kept circling your sensitive nub and licking your cunt in slow, purposeful strokes through your peak. 

You squirmed away, but Theo only held your hips down. “I’m not finished, little mouse.” He lifted his head, those clear blue eyes blown out and dilated. “Tell me, have you ever squirted before?” 

“No,” you admitted truthfully. 

Theo smirked. “We’ll have to change that.” 

With that, he pried your legs apart and dove back in. Theo was relentless in his pursuit. He ate pussy like he had something to prove. You felt overstimulated with all the new sensations and reactions he was bringing out of you, but you didn’t dare tell him to stop. Every time you tried to crawl away, Theo yanked you by the ankles and spanked your pussy for misbehaving. 

You were on your third orgasm when a pressure in your lower abdomen made you keen. “Theo, I can’t— I feel like I have to pee—”

“You won’t,” Theo reassured you. “Just let go, cara mia. I want you to squirt on my face.” 

“Fuck,” Mattheo cursed behind the camera. “I want that too.” 

Theo chuckled before speeding up his movements, fingering you rapidly until you were at the height of your peak once again. When he matched the rhythm with his tongue, you came with a cry. With tears streaming down your face, you stopped holding back the strange sensation and let go. You squirted all over Theo’s face, soaking him in your juices as he ate you through it. 

“So good,” Theo growled as he kissed you, the taste of your arousal lingering on his tongue. “You’re so fucking good.” 

You felt limp and boneless as he lifted you up and placed you in Mattheo’s arms. He cradled you against his chest and placed kisses all over your face, praising you for doing so well. You had no idea how much time had passed when Theo finally returned with a warm towel. He kneeled before you and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“How are you doing, superstar?” 

“Good,” you murmured as he cleaned you up. “Really good.” 

“I think you wore her out, Theo.” 

You shook your head. “I’m fine, I promise. I don’t mind. I can— I can go again.” 

Theo chuckled, tilting your chin towards him. “Can’t get enough, can you?” 

Mattheo hugged you from behind and kissed your shoulder. “She can take it,” he said proudly. “The only question is, which one of us do you want first?” 

You glanced between Mattheo and Theo, biting your lip. A deep flush tinted your cheeks as they looked at you expectantly. 

“You never could choose between us,” Theo teased. “Let’s make a game out of it then. You have thirty seconds to find a hiding place. Whoever finds you first, gets to fuck you first.” 

Mattheo’s smirk was downright wicked. “Masks on.” 

Theo nodded in agreement before they both slipped on the Ghostface masks. You swallowed thickly, utterly turned on by their twisted little game. 

“How will I know which is which?” 

“That’s the beauty of it,” Theo said. “You won’t.” 

Mattheo leaned down, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “I’d start running if I were you, little mouse.” 

“Run, bella, run.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. As the countdown started, you sprinted through the house and tried to find a place to hide. The living room was out of the question since the boys were currently occupying it. The kitchen was too exposed. The bedrooms too obvious. There was only one place in the house that they would never suspect. 

As you crept down the basement, you held your breath. It was dark and damp down here, the rows of wine racks crowding you in as you ventured further into the labyrinth. You hated coming down here. It always gave you the creeps, which is what made it the perfect hiding place. As you slotted yourself between vintages, you hunkered down and prepared to wait it out. 

When five minutes passed, you started to grow a little too confident in your choice. It would likely be the last place they checked. 

How wrong you were. 

As you peered through the racks, you heard the sound of metal clinking against the wine bottles. Two rows ahead, you saw Ghostface tapping his blade against the bottles as he searched for you in the dark.  

You backed up as Ghostface prowled closer, hoping to lose him as you weaved through the rows. One second you were watching the dark figure check your previous hiding place and the next second he was gone. You swiveled around in confusion and tried to track his last whereabouts. You didn’t have to look very far. 

“I guess I win,” said one of the boys. The voice changer was on again, so you couldn’t be sure who was underneath the mask, but that was part of the thrill. Ghostface backed you into the wall and cornered you until you had nowhere else to go. “I’ll take my prize now, little mouse.” 

You gasped as Ghostface picked you up and wrapped your legs around his midsection. He unzipped his pants in a haste before lifting up your skirt. His cock teased your entrance and he murmured profanities under his breath as you watched him slowly push in. It was a stretch to even get the tip in and you took gasping breaths as his thick, long cock breached your walls. 

“Oh fuck, s’too big,” you keened. Despite the lubrication charm he cast, it was still a struggle as he thrust in. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 

“We’ll make it fit,” Ghostface grunted. “You’re gonna take every inch of me like the good little slut that you are. Do you understand?” 

Tears welled in your eyes, but you nodded in agreement. You were too cockdrunk to argue. Ghostface eased the last few inches in, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. You’ve never felt so full, so stuffed to the brim. 

“That’s fucking right,” chuckled Ghostface. “Take it, little mouse. Take this fucking cock.” 

You were nearly out of your mind when he pulled out and slammed back in. A choked sob escaped your throat. You weren’t used to being stretched so wide and deep. It felt so fucking good. 

“Yeah, you like that?” mocked Ghostface. “Such an innocent face, but you love getting fucked like a whore, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, yes, yes…”

A hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your oxygen. You grasped Ghostface’s wrist and smiled as you did so. He might’ve taken off his rings, but you knew it was Theo. 

“You’re so big, Teddy,” you groaned. “I knew it. I knew you’d feel this good. I knew you’d split me apart just like this.” 

“Che cazzo,” Theo moaned as your pussy clenched around his cock. “How’d you know, bella?” 

“You always burn your fingers when you get too high,” you explained. Theo watched as you kissed his fingertips and held his gaze as you sucked on his thumb. “I know you, Teddy. I know both my boys.” 

At that, Theo fucked you even harder. His balls slapped against your ass with every thrust. There was something animalistic about the way he moved. It was like seeing a whole new side of him. You decided that you liked this version of Theo. The version that took what he wanted, when he wanted, and made no apologies for it. 

“That’s sweet,” drawled Mattheo. You looked up to find him filming the whole thing. You had no idea how long he’d been there, but you were glad that he’d finally joined. 

Theo smirked, his thrusts turning shallow. “You should let Matty have a turn,” he murmured. “He’s been waiting so patiently after all.” 

Mattheo set the camera by the windowsill and prowled towards you. “That doesn’t mean I should get all the fun.” Theo set you down on shaky legs as you looked between your boys. “Who says you have to choose? You can have the best of both worlds, princess.” 

Mattheo directed you to bend over one of the stools by the window while Theo positioned himself in front of you. “Be a good girl and suck Theo off while I fuck you.” 

“Oh,” you murmured, your pussy wet and your head fuzzy at the idea of taking them both at the same time. “O-okay.” 

“You’re our superstar, remember?” Mattheo teased as he smacked your ass. “So show the camera what you can do.” 

The encouragement urged you on as you pumped Theo’s cock. He cursed in Italian when your wet mouth wrapped around him, your juices still covering his hard length. You began working him with your mouth as Mattheo mounted you from behind. The stretch made you moan. Theo gripped your hair in response and bucked into your mouth. 

You couldn’t keep track of the pain and pleasure as Mattheo fucked you from behind and Theo abused your throat. All that mattered was that you felt full on both ends, floating on cloud nine while you were stuffed to the brim. Both boys worshiped your body. Mattheo trailed kisses down your spine while Theo massaged your tits. 

Every now and then, Mattheo smacked your ass to demand your attention. He even bit down on your ass cheek when you got impatient and tried to grind down on him. Mattheo set a punishing pace as his fingers dug into your hips, marking your skin for days to come. You’d wear the bruises like a trophy. 

“Wait.” Mattheo slowed his movements and Theo cocked his head as you looked up at him. “I want— I want to try something—”

”What is it, princess?” asked Mattheo. 

“I want you both,” you whispered shyly. 

Theo tilted your chin up. “Don’t get all shy on us now, bella,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can’t say you want to take us both and then get all embarrassed about it.” 

Mattheo chuckled and patted your ass. “Theo’s right, baby. You need to own it.” 

You cleared your throat, shaking off the nerves. “I want you both inside me,” you said confidently. “At the same time.” 

The boys smiled as they slipped their masks back on. “Your wish is our command, little mouse.” 

With a flash, the three of you apparated to the bedroom. Mattheo pulled you into his lap, stroking your back as he slithered in. Theo filmed you with the camera. 

“Deep breaths, sweetheart,” Mattheo murmured. He sounded dazed and distant, barely hanging on to reality. You controlled your breathing and relaxed your walls, which allowed him to slip in easier. “Oh fuck, yeah, just like that…” 

Behind you, Theo cast another lubrication charm and warmed your puckering hole up with his fingers. He took his time to make sure you were nice and pliant, soft moans muffled as Mattheo lifted up his mask and tongue kissed you. His curls felt like silk between your fingers as you continued to make out sloppily. 

Not one to be left out, Theo turned your chin for a kiss that left you lightheaded before leaning over and sharing a dirty, filthy kiss with Mattheo. You watched as they made out, heat spreading through your veins at the sight. Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly get wetter. 

Mattheo squeezed your hip. “I can feel your pussy clenching around me,” he said with an amused smirk. “You’re fucking filthy, baby. I think you’re ready for Theo, aren’t you?” 

You nodded excitedly, flashing your doe eyed stare at Theo. “Please, Teddy.” 

Theo smiled. “How could I say no to that?” 

It was a tight fit. Tighter than you’ve ever taken before. You felt like you were being stretched to your limit as Theo eased his way in to join Mattheo. It was hard to get air in as you buried your face in Mattheo’s neck, gripping the sheets for dear life. 

Theo pumped slowly, letting you get used to the sensation. Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and shoulder, his tongue swirling against your nipple before he took it into his mouth. He massaged and licked and sucked while Theo picked up the pace. 

“How does that feel, bella?” Theo asked. 

“Really fucking good,” you hummed, your whole body vibrating with pleasure. “Don’t stop, Teddy.”

”Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

When Mattheo began to thrust upwards, you started to feel lightheaded. Your head was in the clouds while your body experienced euphoria. “Fuck, fuck, oh my god…” you moaned. “So good.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo growled against your ear as he thrust in sharply. “You like being full of us, huh? You like letting your best friends split you apart like this, baby?” 

“Yes, god…” you blubbered, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I fucking love when you’re both inside me.” 

Theo groaned. “Merda, you’re going to make me cum.” 

“Do it,” you breathed. “Please, please, I want you both to fill me up.” 

“Merlin, you’re a fucking dream,” murmured Mattheo as he circled your clit. 

Theo and Mattheo synced up their rhythm, filling you up simultaneously. There wasn’t a single thought in your mind besides chasing after your release. When you felt yourself getting close, Theo yanked you by the hair and turned the camera on all three of you. 

“Give us the money shot,” Theo said through his mask. “Cum for us, little mouse.” 

As Mattheo stimulated your already sensitive nub, you lost yourself to the climax. It hit you all at once. Your vision went fuzzy as you came with a cry. Mattheo cursed when you creamed him, triggering his own orgasm. You could feel him filling you to the brim. The only tether to reality you had left was Theo’s hands gripping your hips as the camera tumbled on the mattress. 

Mattheo picked it up and filmed you getting railed by Theo, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his thrusts grew rushed and sloppy. The camera captured Ghostface cumming inside of you before Mattheo panned down to where the two of them dripped down your thighs. 

“Look at her,” Mattheo murmured in awe. “She’s our perfect little superstar.” 

Your legs wobbled beneath you as Theo pulled off his mask. As gentle as possible, he scooped you up and cradled you into his chest. Theo kissed you softly, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Yes she is,” he declared proudly. “You did so well, bella. Let your boys take care of you now, okay?” 

You nodded, dazed as Mattheo set the camera down and brushed your hair back. “Okay.” 

As Mattheo got the bath started and Theo carried you over to the tub, you sighed in satisfaction. “Teddy? Matty?” 

Both boys turned towards you, concern written all over their faces. It was sweet how much they cared, how they took it upon themselves to look after you. Even before tonight, the two of them had always been attuned to your needs. Just like now.

“I think I have a favorite movie now.” 

The two of them broke out into matching grins. Theo carefully lowered you into the warm water before climbing in. Mattheo eagerly joined, sandwiching you between your two favorite boys and ending that night the same way it started. As Theo shampooed your hair, Mattheo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek. 

“If you’re good,” he drawled, a mischievous twinkle glittering in those big, brown eyes. “Maybe we’ll make a sequel.” 

[kiemiu]

voice notes your boyfriend matt leaves you pt.2 | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship drabble wc 402 (library) + (request)

one. i hope you have a good time on your girls trip..please, don't get kidnapped. i don't know what i'll do if fucking— i don't know, mafia boss zayn malik took you hostage. you might like it there, and-and i can't have you getting kidnapped by 1D in a foreign country! or whatever the hell happens in those fics.. i mean, who'd watch gravity falls with me?

two. schedules all cleared up for the rest of the day, (relieved sigh) i can't wait to come home to you. i miss you even though i've been gone for 5 hours at most. (quiet realization) i might have some sort of separation anxiety with you..

three. (in that baby voice) birthday! birthday! it's your birthday! happy birthday, yay!

four. mr. wrinkleton misses you. i think you should come over, to..cheer him up and stuff.

five. i'm not letting you put off the new clairo album any longer, i'm coming over and we'll listen to it together so i can see your reaction live, and yes, i'll stop by taco bell for you so, please, don't fill up on fruit snacks.

six. facetime date today?..i know you're not feeling well, but i—i really miss talking to you, and i've probably looked through our joint photo album like 6 times today...just wanna see my girl.

seven. "add up my looooove, oOoOoOOo, add up my loooove, honey was it enouuuGgghh? is it ever enouuu-" don't i sound just like clairo? she should get me on her next album.

eight. new psychological horror movie just came out, and i know you're into that spooky shit so i bought it on amazon prime. but it's on my account, soooo, you'll have to come over. (chris in the background: and bring pepsi!) and chris says bring pepsi, please.

nine. you left just before the rain started to pour down really hard...i hope you didn't get caught in it. and if so, stay safe and call if you need anything. if ya' need me to, i'll come get you myself and drive you back here until it calms down.

ten. i know you're most-likely taking your midday nap right now but—(sniffle) i don't know, i'm just happy to have you. you—uhm, you really mean a lot to me, so, please, don't go anywhere anytime soon. i–i don't know what i'd do with myself.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @oliviagirlsworld @koilaniazul @starsforu @sturn777

[psychronia]

I've been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender because why not and I'm losing my mind at Zuko's proper introduction. I don't know if it's hindsight, shifting characterizations, or just me not watching this in a long time, but this was amazing.

We start off showing he's an impatient and very angry kid. Reasonable, and the sort of flaw we might expect to see in a villain. Kinda funny that he expects to go up against an adult and fully 4-Element realized Avatar, but the kid is desperate and Iroh clearly expects his nephew to get the banishment-denial kicked out of him.

What's important here, though, is Zuko's introduction to the Southern Water Tribe.

Here, we have a very intimidating entrance where his entire ship just sails through the ice right up to the village's front door. It's quite ominous and this is our first proper introduction to how the Fire Nation interacts with a foreign people.

Sokka charges, I'm assuming fully prepared to die, and Zuko casually knocks him out of the way. Okay, so clearly the Water Tribe are entirely outgunned.

He asks "Where are you hiding him?" and the people of the Water Tribe go silent. I assume they're either just too scared to talk or actually protecting Aang.

Whatever the case, it's important to note that the Southern Water Tribe know the terror the Fire Nation can inflict. We have a whole episode dedicated to tracking down a division of raiders. Sokka was able to not only identify the ash-mixed snow as signs of an incoming attack, but estimate how many ships the amount of ash measures to. These are a people who have experience being terrorized and are probably expecting something terrible to happen.

And then, after they don't answer, Zuko grabs Gran-Gran. There was a horror sting to it, and everything the tribe knows about the Fire Nation suggests that Zuko is about to threaten or straight up hurt her to get answers. Classic "terrorize the elderly" bad guy stuff.

And then...

He goes "He's (the Avatar) be about this age and is a master of all four elements!?" and lets her go.

And all of a sudden, the tension that was built up is shattered as Zuko went "I know, I'll give them a reference for the person I'm looking for because clearly they're confused and I wasn't specific enough."

This went from a show of villainy to a show of Zuko being totally socially awkward and misreading the situation entirely. Not helping is that when he does try to menace them a moment later, his fire is slow and angled quite safely.

It still worked on the Water Tribe because they're understandably scared, but all I could think of is that this was the equivalent of a playground bully trying to make someone flinch with that fake-out lunge thing.

Because the fact-and something we'll come to learn-is that Zuko is TERRIBLE at being a Fire Nation oppressor. He's capable of doing morally dubious things and is a competent fighter. But he's lousy at terrorizing people and cruelty-that's kind of the point of his banishment.

And while we can see the story paint this picture of Zuko's true character as the story goes on with hints of good and conflicting loyalties, here we get to see just how bad he is at being "the bad guys". He's still unambiguously being the villain of this scene, and it makes no real difference to the oppressed themselves, but there is a comical gap between where Zuko thinks he is, where he actually is, and somehow it still puts him on the same page as his victims just because of how terrible the Fire Nation's influence is on everyone involved.

[thebearer]

arguing with carmen and its big enough where you leave for the night but what’s even scarier to him is that you also took teddy

he'd have an actual psychotic break, nervous breakdown.

especially bc i'm picturing him reverting back to his old ways. it's rare, but he slips into a full carmy (in the lock in) level meltdown. gets unbalanced and spirals further and further, and you just happen to be who he takes it out on.

screaming at you like a maniac over something stupid- you didn't wash his spare whites (he didn't tell you they needed to be washed). it's his fault, he knows it deep down, still he's losing his shit because it's the final straw.

"you stay at home all day! all fucking day and you can't do one thing!" carmen's red faced, screaming.

you're shocked, scared, on the brink of sobbing yourself. teddy's woke up from her nap, his screaming startled her. the newborn wailing from her nursery.

"carmen, you didn't tell me-"

"-i shouldn't have to!" carmen roars. "you're home all day-"

"-i'm on maternity leave. i just had a baby-"

"-oh, so. you can't do one fuckin' thing now? i have to do it all here too?" carmen is spiraling, pacing, running a hand down his face. "i get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then i come home so i can go back and work my ass off some more, and you can't help me out?"

his words sting, shock you with the weight of them. swallowing back tears, you turn, climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

carmen is scoffing, hands shaking with rage and annoyance and just overwhelmed. your ignoring him stings. makes him spiral even more. "don't go do it now! it's too late!" carmen scoffs. "i've got a fuckin' critic coming in two hours, and i'll wear stained whites. probably get a shitty review about our food being gross an-and the chef being just as bad!"

you texted pete through your tears, telling him that you were coming to stay there for a while. shoving clothes for the night in your small bag quickly, hands shaking when you zipped it up, your wedding ring flashing at you. you stared at it, a wave of tears coming over you, screwing the ring off your finger and setting it on carmen's night stand next to a photo of you two on your honeymoon.

you packed teddy and anchovy's things quickly, knowing you'd come back tomorrow to get what else you needed. just the essentials, to get through the night. anchovy in his carrier, and teddy in her's, you ignored carmen's pacing, his deep breaths and clenched eyes, walking straight to the garage.

carmen looked up at the sound of the door, standing quickly. a damning rush of horror, of realization washed over him, pulled him right out of his clouded tantrum.

"w-what- what are you- hey, what-" carmen runs towards the car door, where you're putting teddy's car seat into place, shushing the wailing girl gently.

"-don't fucking touch me." you sneer, teeth bared in primal rage, pure protectiveness.

"baby, wait, wait, ju-just hold on. where're you- hey, don't- where're you goin'?" carmen's frantic, eyes wide, stomach churning.

you shut the car door, moving past him without looking to get to the driver's side. "no, no, no, no, no. don't-baby please, don't. i-i-i'm sorry. i'm sorry!" carmen's stuttering in fear, hands shaking trying to hold the door open, keep you from shutting it.

"let go." you growl, yanking the door. "you're not going to talk to me like that, carmen. i don't care if you're stressed, i don't care. you're not going to come home and talk to me like that because you fucked up. not when i've been at home all day taking care of our- my child."

carmen feels dizzy, mouth filling with spit, sure he's about to throw up.

you slam the door, eyes watery and red and angry, glaring at him before pulling out of the driveway.

carmen's left alone in the garage, knees weak, hands shaking. his ears are ringing, head spinning, sure that he's hallucinating- that this has to be a sick sick dream. floods of realization icy through his veins.

the house is eerily quiet, so still. no teddy, no anchovy, no you.

he isn't sure how long he sits in the garage, the sun sinking in the horizon, but he stays motionless and still. richie shows up eventually, frantic and wide eyed.

"cousin! what the fuck? dinner service started a fuckin' hour ago, and we-" he stops, slowing his stride when he gets closer. carmen's vacant gaze, trembling hands.

"hey, carm, what's goin' on? you-you alright?" richie's voice dropped low and slow, like he used to with mikey. "carmen. hey, what's-"

"-she left." carmen whispered, his eyes wide in horror. "she-she left and she took t-teddy." carmen breaks, a sob choking out of his throat.

"why? why did she-" richie stops, looking at carmen. "carmen, what did you do?"

carmen sobs- no, wails. broken and terrified and horrified. full chest sobs that are more like screams. the realization of what he had done, what he had said, feeling the full weight of the consequences of his actions for the first time.

[prettysweetprettysweet]

Louis and Lestat are laughing over shots of drunk ppl neck at a bar and Louis is like, "you wanna hear something crazy though? I topped him for 70 years." The laughing stops abruptly but after a moment's pause, Lestat says "ah, you mean you topped him from the bottom" and continues nursing his beer. And Louis' like "uuuh, NO. I mean I topped him." And Lestat, thinking that they've reached the source of the misunderstanding, says "ooooh, I see now, you mean you bottomed for him from the top." And Louis' like "...no, no, what?? no, ~~~I~~~ topped ~~~him~~~." And Lestat is like "??? OH! Oh my god, how silly of me, I thought we were talking about sex! You must be referring to some modern game I'm unfamiliar with, like bottle caps?" And Louis says "Lestat, I am talking about sex, I topped Armand for 77 years" and Lestat laughs and says "Oh, Louis, and I'VE been the one hermited away in a little shotgun shack! I don't think that word means what you think it means, but you're very cute." It takes another 7 minutes for them to truly come to an understanding, but not before Lestat literally throws his hands up and attributes the confusion to a language barrier that they won't be able to get past and maybe they should just 'move on.' When the realization really hits Lestat he's left with a profound sense of horror that almost immediately morphs into smug satisfaction that both Louis and Armand have been having the worst sex of their lives for nearly a century, but then it goes 360 fully back round to a horror so sobering that Lestat's blood alcohol level has shot down to base level at miracle speed. all they can do now is stare at each other and Lestat is hoping with all of himself that Louis can see the genuine sorrow pouring from his eyes and Louis is thinking "i forgot that he can really be so empathetic, i've gotta let him hit tonight" and Lestat says through blood tears, "Louis, one time over a century ago you asked me why God put us here. I know now, in every atom of my being, that God put me here to fuck you the right way"

[sysig]

If your eye causes you to [fear], pluck it out (P1 | P2 | P3 | B) (Patreon)

[transformers-spike]

"Cybertronians reacting to getting kissed", in which kissing is not something cybertronians do as an act of affection, so they're completely new to the human concept of kissing to express romantic love. Talk me one Knock Out who is so versed in wooing but doesn't know two shits about human kissing, and finding himself kissed for the first time. Or Starscream who's gonna freak out. Or Megatron who doesn't even know why you're smashing your intake against his

This is such a good question, anon, I've been rotating it in my head for a while now

Knock Out is well-versed in the drag and frag technique. He’s probably one of the youngest members on the Nemesis, still old as balls by our standards, but some rebellious youngin’ by theirs. He’s all about sliding in with a smooth pickup line and buttering you up until he reaches the “let’s get down to business” level, where he starts flashing his biolights in a “come hither and frag me” display. When it comes to human kissing, he’s… improvising to say the least. He’s seen humans make out in a wide variety of drive-through horror movies (many with questionable acting), and while he doesn’t “get” why we do it, he does his best to lean into the act and find what makes it so pleasurable by our standards. When you do kiss him for the first time, he’s already been hyping himself up for months, and whatever smoothness he tries to apply immediately disintegrates because oh fuck, your lips are so small and he has so much to give. He’s absolutely suffering despite the confident front he’s putting up. After fumbling the bag, he’ll ask you how he did. “Mid,” you’re tempted to say. But the hopefulness behind those smug optics stops you in your tracks. Starscream must have had a very confusing interface life even by Cybertronian standards. But there’s no way he didn’t get frisky back when he was Air Commander of Vos, even if the workload was immense. Although that’s probably the most action he got in his entire life, and even then the closest equivalent to “kissing” by their standards is merging EM fields and hoping for the best, a careful manipulation of wavelengths to fall into perfect sync. We humans do not possess a hyper-developed EM field, which is enraging for Starscream because what do you mean you smash intakes??? Mass-displaced or not, the only fluids he accepts in his intake are energon and transfluid, thank you very much. Kissing is a bad idea, and you’ve learned it the hard way, so good job! Now you have to deal with his drama queen ass acting like you just spit in his mouth. Worst thing is, he is interested in trying it again, but with his stipulations (aka watching him fail to figure out how to kiss you). He doesn’t even fail in a funny way, he’s so bad it’s concerning, you’re half tempted to contact Knock Out and blackmail him into sending you Starscream’s medical file.

Megatron was… surprisingly abstinent back on Cybertron. Yes, he’s been around for a long time. Yes, he used to be a gladiator at some point. And yes, it had its perks, but he was always more of a “sensitive spark” than a typical casanova. He had more important things to focus on at the time (mainly surviving the pits of Kaon and, before that, not offlining in a freak mining accident). Honestly, who knows what he did as a politician, whatever freakiness he had going on while trying to depose the government is none of our business and I am totally not typing this with a fusion cannon to my head.

He’s been through so much; fought countless beasts and fellow gladiators, avoided assassination attempts and blood-thirsty mutinies while leading a millennia-long war. Nothing can surprise him anymore. Yes, you’re a weird little freak for smashing intakes with him, but you need not fear for your safety. He’s… intrigued by your display of affection. You can mumble excuses all you want, but you’ve smashed intakes with him and it can’t be undone. Watch out for those sharp teeth and prepare a tetanus shot just in case. You have to deal with the consequences of your actions whether you like it or not, especially when he’s got a claw under your shirt and another down your pants. Your lips are bleeding and you pray it’s an accident, if he gets a taste for human blood you’re done for.

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.

[raekensluver]

nightfall temptations (1)

introduction, part one

description: breaking up with your boyfriend, ethan landry, was too easy. he was too understanding, and now you're discovering why.

pairing: dark!toxic!ex!ethan landry x fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, dubcon, slight knife play, name calling (whore), teasing (?), innocence/corruption kink, p in v, p in v from behind, squirting.

song rec: animals by maroon 5- "baby I'm preying on you tonight. hunt you down, eat you alive. just like animals"

w.c: 4.3k

an: sorry this took so long to get out!! this is not proofread!!

the cold steel of ethan's knife glinted in the moonlight, the sound of his voice, now raw and unfiltered, sends chills down your spine.

"you should have seen it coming," he says, his tone smug, "after all, i've been dropping hints everywhere."

your friends had always had a weird feeling about ethan, something they couldn't quite put their finger on. they'd whispered their concerns to you in the safety of your apartment, their eyes darting nervously towards the door as if he might overhear.

"he's just really into the genre," you'd assured them, "it's not like he's actually going to hurt me." but now, with the mask and the knife, their fears feel all too real.

his eyes, the only human part of his face visible through the thin fabric covering the holes in the mask, seem to bore into you.

"you look surprised," he says, his voice still distorted, "i thought you knew i was watching you." your mind reels as you try to process the betrayal.

you take a step to leave, but before you can even blink, his hand snatches you, his grip ironclad. your arm is yanked back, the phone flying from your hand and landing with a clatter on the damp cobblestone.

"going somewhere?" he asks, his tone deceptively light. you stumble, your legs refusing to move as his hand tightens around your wrist.

his touch is cold, the kind that feels like it could freeze the blood in your veins. you struggle, trying to pull away, but his strength is overwhelming. your eyes dart around the courtyard, searching for an escape, a weapon, anything that could help. the silence is deafening, only broken by the sound of your panicked breathing and the thundering of your heart in your ears.

his grip tightens, and you feel a sharp pain as his nails dig into your skin.

"let me go," you plead, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. but he just laughs, the sound echoing off the high walls like a cacophony of nightmares.

"not until you admit it," he says, "not until you admit that you're just like me."

you're frozen, unable to move, unable to think of anything but the cold steel of the knife that glints in the moonlight.

"like you?" you repeat, trying to buy time, trying to figure out what game he's playing.

"yes," he says, his voice low and menacing, "someone who enjoys the thrill of fear."

you bite your lip, tasting the coppery tang of your own blood. deep down, you know he's right. there's always been something about horror movies that's drawn you in, that's made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. but that's just it, you think, it's a movie. it's not real. you've never wanted to be the one running for their life.

"i'm not like you," you spit out, trying to convince yourself more than him.

but as you look into the cold, dead eyes of the ghostface mask, you feel a flicker of doubt. maybe there's a part of you that's thrilled by the danger, that's drawn to the edge of fear. maybe that's why you've been playing his twisted game for so long, hoping each time would be the last.

"prove it," he whispers, his breath hot on your neck. "scared, baby?"

his grip on your wrist is unrelenting, his knife now pressing against the soft skin of your throat. you swallow hard, feeling the cold steel against your pulse.

"no," you murmur, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "i'm not scared of you." but your racing heart gives you away.

summoning every ounce of courage, you bring your free hand up to the mask, your fingers trembling as they touch the smooth, cold surface. he flinches, but you don't stop. with one swift move, you yank the mask up and off his head. ethan's face is revealed, twisted into a grin that's more terrifying than the ghostface ever was.

his eyes, now wide with surprise and excitement, sparkle with a crazed glint.

"you didn't think i'd really hurt you, did you?" he laughs, but there's a manic edge to it that sends your stomach plummeting. your hand, still clutching the mask, falls to your side. you realize you've been holding your breath and gasp for air.

without warning, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. the warmth of his breath, the softness of his touch, it's all a stark contrast to the cold, hard knife still at your throat. you try to pull away, to look anywhere but at him, but his grip on your chin tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. the kiss is… nice. unexpectedly tender, like the first time you kissed, before the world went mad.

"don't deny it," he whispers,"you love the rush, the thrill of the chase." his hand releases your chin and slides down to your neck, his thumb caressing the spot where your pulse beats wildly. "we're the same, you and i."

you stare into his eyes, searching for the person you thought you knew. but all you see is the madness lurking beneath the surface.

"i'm not like you," you say, trying to convince yourself as much as him. "i don't want this."

his smile widens, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly.

"you don't know what you want," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "you crave the fear, the excitement." his hand slides up your arm, sending goosebumps down your spine. "we can have so much fun together, just like in the movies."

despite yourself, you feel your resolve waver. the memory of your first date at the horror film festival, the way you clung to him in the darkened theater, the way your heart raced with every scream. was it just the thrill of the movie, or was there something more sinister lurking in those moments? "

we could be unstoppable," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "the perfect couple, the one everyone talks about."

his hand moves from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer.

"think about it," he says, his voice a sweet caress. "we could rule this city with fear, become legendary." his words are intoxicating, spinning a web of dark allure around you. for a fleeting second, you consider it. the power, the excitement, the rush of adrenaline. but then you remember the reality of his actions, the fear and pain he's inflicted on others.

you push back, trying to break free from his embrace.

"no," you say firmly, "i don't want that." but he doesn't let go, his grin never wavering.

"you're just scared," he murmurs, his breath warm on your neck. "scared of what you could become." his hand slides up to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles, sending shivers down your spine.

his lips are on your skin now, kissing a trail down your neck, the cold air making you shiver. you can feel his excitement, his hunger for fear, for power, and for you.

"stop," you say, your voice shakier than you intend. his kisses are gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the knife that's still dangerously close to your throat.

his mouth reaches your collarbone, his breath warm against the coldness of the night. you struggle against him, but his grip is firm, his kisses growing more insistent, more possessive. you're torn between the fear and the strange thrill that's building inside of you. this isn't right, you think, but your body seems to be responding against your will.

he chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispers, "you had no idea how close i was, did you? all those nights you'd walk home from work, thinking you were alone. all those times you'd sit in your apartment, watching those movies, feeling so safe." his voice is a purr, his breath hot in your ear.

"i was always watching."

his lips move to the sensitive spot behind your ear, nibbling lightly, making you shiver.

"i'd sit outside, watching the lights flicker on and off, wondering what was making you smile, what was making you jump." his words are a seductive caress, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "you never knew i was there, baby, never knew that i was just a heartbeat away."

his hand slides up to cup your face, tilting it towards him. he kisses your cheek, your jaw, his teeth scraping gently against your skin. "every step you took, every breath you took, i was there," he whispers, his voice a soft serenade of terror. "i knew your routine better than you did."

his lips find yours again, his tongue probing, insistent. you can't help but gasp into the kiss, the fear and the exhilaration melding into something toxic yet tantalizing. his hands roam your body, his touch feather-light, but leaving a trail of fire wherever he goes. you know you should push him away, but there's something about his words, about the way he speaks of your fear as if it's a shared secret, that keeps you rooted in place.

his knife, cold and unforgiving, glides up your bare inner thigh, the fabric of your dress parting easily under its sharp edge. the sensation sends a shock through you, a mix of terror and arousal that you try to bury deep. "see?" he murmurs, "you love it. you're just like me." his voice is a siren's call, luring you closer to the edge of madness. "every gasp you make, it's like music to my ears."

you're trapped, both by his arms around you and by the sickening fascination his words stir in your soul. you know you should be disgusted, but instead, you're… intrigued. the thought of being part of something so twisted, so powerful, it's like a dark siren's call, beckoning you to embrace the chaos. "we could make them all scream," he whispers, his breath hot and hungry. "every last one of them."

his knife slides up further, grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sending a jolt of fear and something else through you. something primal, something that makes your stomach flip in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. his hand is now around your neck, his thumb stroking the pulse point, a silent reminder of the power he holds over you. "say it," he murmurs, "tell me you want it."

you lean into his touch, the knife forgotten against your skin. his grip on your waist tightens, his kisses growing more demanding. your mind swirls with images of the horrors you could inflict together, the power you'd wield. your heart races, not just with fear, but with something more primal, more exhilarating.

"yes," you murmur against his mouth, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

his grin widens, his eyes gleaming with victory.

"good girl," he purrs, his hand moving up to your face, stroking your cheek. "you're going to love this." his knife slides away, but you can still feel the coolness of the metal, the promise of pain and fear that lingers in the air. your hands come up to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his cloak, pulling him closer.

his other hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip firm, almost painful. "say it again," he whispers, his voice a mix of excitement and demand. "say you're mine." you stare into the darkness of his eyes, the mask lying forgotten at your feet. something within you snaps, a part of you that you didn't even know existed.

you lean in closer, your breath mingling with his.

"i'm yours," you murmur, the words like a dark vow. his grin widens, his eyes lighting up with a twisted joy. he pulls back slightly, the knife once again pressed against your throat, but the threat is now a promise.

"prove it," he says, his voice a seductive purr.

you kiss him, your lips meeting his with a fervor that surprises even you. his hand slides down your back, pulling you closer, his tongue dancing with yours in a deadly waltz of desire and dread. the knife is still there, a constant reminder of the danger, but it's almost forgotten as the heat between you builds. his hand moves to the zipper of your dress, tugging it down, the fabric parting to reveal your trembling body.

his kisses become more urgent, more possessive, as if he's trying to claim every part of you with his mouth. your hands roam his chest, feeling the fabric of his cloak, the cold steel of his knife still in his hand. you should be terrified, but instead, you're alive with a mix of emotions you've never felt before. his touch is like a brand, searing away your fears, leaving only the thrill of the unknown in its wake.

you help him pull off the cloak, the heavy fabric dropping to the ground with a thud. underneath, he's dressed in all black - a stark contrast to the polos and blue jeans he'd always worn when you were together. it's as if he's shed his old skin, revealing the monster he's become. but instead of repulsing you, it only fuels the fire within. you realize that you've always been drawn to the dark side of him, the side that watched horror movies with a glint in his eye that was more than just amusement.

his hands are on your hips, pulling you closer, his knife abandoned to the floor. there's no gentle touch or sweet whispers - just raw, animalistic need. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the muscles in his arms tense as he pushes you towards the cold, wet brick wall of the alleyway. you gasp as the roughness of the stones digs into your skin, but the pain is only a distant echo compared to the desire that's consuming you. he's rough, urgent - a stark contrast to the tender, loving embraces you used to share.

his kisses are bruising, his teeth grazing your bottom lip until you taste blood. your heart is racing, the sound echoing in your ears louder than the distant sirens and the patter of rain on the pavement. your hands are in his hair, gripping tightly, as if you could hold onto the last shred of the person you once knew. but this isn't about holding onto the past - it's about letting go, about giving in to the darkness that's been building between you for so long.

the alleyway is slick with rainwater, the smell of damp earth and rotting garbage mixing with the heady scent of lust. ethan's body is hot and solid against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your skin as if he's trying to claim you once and for all. his hands slide under your shirt, the cold air making your skin pebble with goosebumps that have nothing to do with the chill. his tongue traces the line of your neck, leaving a wet trail as he works his way down, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. you moan, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt, which you've pulled over his head in a frenzy.

his eyes are dark, the pupils dilated with desire. you look into them, searching for any trace of the boy you fell in love with, but all you see is a creature of the night - wild, hungry, and untamed. you know that you should be afraid, that this isn't what love is supposed to feel like, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you as he pins you harder against the wall, his hips grinding into yours. it's as if he's marking you, branding you with the intensity of his need.

you can feel the cold brick against your back, the rainwater seeping through your clothes, but the heat between you is too intense to care. his hands are rough, but not painful, as they slip under the band of your pants, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is what it's like to be claimed by the devil himself. you push the thought aside, lost in the sensation of his touch, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers things that would make any sane person run. but you're not running. instead, you're leaning into him, urging him on.

his fingers find their way inside you, and you gasp, your body responding to his touch despite the chaos around you. the sound is swallowed by the city noise and the darkness, the only light coming from the occasional flicker of a distant streetlight. it's as if the world outside the alley has ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the storm of passion raging between you. he moves with purpose, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you bucking your hips against him, desperate for more.

his words are harsh, whispered taunts that cut through the sounds of the alley. "you like it, don't you?" he says, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "you like the way i treat you like a dirty little whore." his voice is low and guttural, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings he used to murmur into your ear. every word is a challenge, a declaration of his dominance over you in this twisted dance. and yet, you can't help but arch into his touch, a whimper escaping your lips as he hits just the right spot.

his hand tightens around your throat, not enough to choke but enough to make you feel his power, his control. "you want me to fuck you like the slut you are," he growls, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "tell me you want it, tell me you're mine to use." the words should repulse you, but instead, they make you wetter, make you want to scream out in agreement. his grip loosens just enough for you to whisper, "yes," a sound that seems to resonate through the night air, a declaration of your newfound subservience to his dark desires.

his other hand, still lodged inside your pants, slows its tempo, teasing you mercilessly. you whine, desperate for the release he's been building, but he pulls away, leaving you trembling and exposed. "beg for it," he commands, his voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. you bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the need is too much. "please," you murmur, the word barely audible over the rain. "please, ethan."

his eyes flare at the sound of his name, and with a feral grin, he yanks your pants down to your ankles, the fabric ripping under his grip. the cold air hits your bare skin, sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. you're left in nothing but your soaked panties, which are quickly torn away by his impatient hands. his eyes devour you, lingering on the wetness between your thighs, and you can't help but feel a twisted sense of pride that you can still turn him on like this.

his own pants are barely shifted down, his cock jutting out, thick and hard. the sight of him like this, raw and unrestrained, sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. you want him, even though you know you shouldn't. even though every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you're not this person, not anymore. but the desire is too strong, the need too overwhelming.

he flips you over, your back to his chest, pressing you against the cold, wet wall. your top rides up, exposing your stomach to the chill, but his body heat quickly envelops you, making you feel anything but cold. your hands come up to brace against the bricks, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kicks your legs apart. the muddy rainwater pools around your feet, the ground sticky with mud and grime, but you can't bring yourself to care.

his cock nudges against your entrance, and you arch your back, eager for the feel of him inside you. he chuckles, the sound dark and sinister, his breath hot on your neck. "so eager," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're going to take all of me, aren't you?" you nod frantically, the words caught in your throat.

you manage to find your voice, the words a desperate plea. "yes, ethan, please, i need you." it's a lie, but it's what he wants to hear, what will push him over the edge and give you the release you crave. his grip tightens, and with one sharp thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely. your eyes squeeze shut, and a strangled cry escapes your lips. the sensation is overwhelming, the pain mixing with pleasure in a toxic cocktail that has you gripping the wall for support.

he starts to move, each thrust punctuated by a grunt of satisfaction from deep within his chest. you can feel every inch of him, the way he stretches and fills you, the way your body clenches around him despite your mind screaming for it to stop. but your body has a mind of its own, betraying you with every pulse of pleasure. "you're so fucking tight," he murmurs, his voice a dark caress that sends shivers down your spine. "always so eager for me."

you want to talk back, to tell him that this isn't what you want, but the words won't come. instead, you whisper his name again, the only sound you can manage. "ethan," you gasp, your voice a plea that you're not sure he hears. but he seems to, his movements growing more urgent, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispers, "say it again, baby. say my name."

his hand is on your stomach, sliding up to cup your breast. the fabric of your shirt is soaked through, sticking to your skin, but it's no match for his strength. with one quick tug, he rips it away, the sound of the fabric tearing echoing through the alley. your tits are exposed to the cold air, your nipples tightening into hard points that he doesn't miss. his hand squeezes, his thumb rolling over the sensitive peak, sending a bolt of pleasure through you that's almost painful.

you say his name again, your voice a desperate whine. "ethan," you breathe, the word a prayer for release. his response is to drive into you harder, his hips slamming against your ass, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the alley walls. you can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his brutal touch despite the horror of the situation. his hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh circles that have your legs shaking, your knees threatening to give out.

the sensation builds, a pressure that you know will shatter you, will leave you in pieces on the dirty ground. your eyes squeeze shut, trying to block out the sight of the grimy bricks, the smell of the rainwater and the garbage. but you can't block out the feeling of his cock inside you, the way he's claiming you, the way your body is betraying you. and then it hits, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave, your pussy clenching around him, your juices soaking his cock and running down your thighs.

his chuckles are low, deep in his throat, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. he's enjoying this, reveling in your degradation, and the knowledge only serves to make your climax more intense. "good girl," he praises, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. "you always were the best fuck i ever had." the words are a slap in the face, a reminder of what you've become, what he's turned you into. but even as the reality of it stings, you can't help the moan that escapes you, the way your body continues to respond to his touch.

his hand moves from your breast to your neck, his grip tightening slightly, reminding you of his control. you're his, and as much as you want to fight it, as much as you want to be free of this twisted mess, there's a part of you that craves it, that wants to be owned by him. with a few more deep, hard thrusts, he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you. the warmth of his cum fills you, a stark contrast to the cold that's seeped into your bones, and you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing you've given him what he wanted, what he's always taken from you.

his grip relaxes, his body going slack against yours, and for a moment, you think he's going to hold you, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear like he used to do after sex. but he doesn't. instead, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and used, the cold air hitting your sensitive flesh like a slap. you don't notice him leaving, the rain and the sound of his footsteps melding together into the background noise of the alley. it's only when he's gone that you realize what's happening, that he's leaving you here, in the dirt and grime, with your dignity in tatters.

slowly, you straighten, your legs wobbly and unsteady. the rain is coming down harder now, soaking through your torn clothes and mingling with your tears. you can't believe you let this happen, that you've sunk so low. but as the anger starts to build, so does the desire, a sick, twisted craving for more of his rough touch, more of his degrading words. you hate yourself for it, but you know you'd do it again if he asked.

taglist: @dreamzaremyrealityy @charvsz @buddhaslover14 @sxyves @r11k4 @jillgirlfriends

[alibonbonn]

HELL UEAH YOU GET IT

Odyssey space AU where Odysseus is stuck in space alone, somehow.