#ahs hotel smut

[taintandviolent]

Trick r' Treat ; James March x reader!

summary: 🎃 slightly AU!Halloween fic! Reader unknowingly lives next door to the James March and in the few glimpses she's gotten of him, she's become enamoured with him. When she gets the idea to trick or treat at his home (despite being an adult), she thinks it's the perfect plan to get them introduced. Little does she know, James has a hunger that isn't satisfied by giving out candy to kiddies.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.5k! | mentions of affluency, James being very forward and persuasive, very vague insinuations of James wanting to kill reader, mild smut; arousal, kissing/making out, dry humping.

a/n: requested by @juliamaximoff! i chose a photo of the ever-lovely madge bellamy because she's always in the back of my mind as reader when i'm writing JPM fics, but of course, reader can look however you do! apologies, i'm a little rusty writing, but hope this isn't too dreadful. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! divider by @/strangergraphics

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

You’d never spoken to him, but you were enchanted with him.

Oh, it sounded dreadful when you said it like that. 

You never knew what he did, but he was well off. More so than your parents were, decidedly. You still lived with them, and thankfully too, because if you hadn’t, you might not have seen him. Nearly every morning, you’d see him leave for work, bright eyed and bushy tailed, always in a sharp suit, sometimes a bowler hat, sometimes without. Each time you saw him, he was so, so, so dreadfully handsome. Some nights, he wouldn’t come home and on those nights, you would sadly slink away from your window, defeated. 

Every glimpse of him was savored. 

Which is why the plan you had devised was perfect. Or nearly. You hadn’t quite worked out what you’d say to him once you were in front of him, but… you’d cross that bridge once you got to it. 

Once you’d dressed yourself, you grabbed the small pumpkin shaped pail and headed out the door. You’d rehearsed in your head a million times; trick or treat. That’s all you had to say once he opened the door – it was a fairly new concept, this trick or treating business, but it was wildly popular and had taken the country by storm. Mostly for children… but you weren’t going to focus on that. 

The short walk was enough to send a chill up your spine. A gust of wind blew its way around you, fluttering your delicate costume around your form. As you made it up to his door, you gripped the knocker, banging it against its plaque three times. You withdrew your hand, and dropped it down next to your side. 

Trick or treat.

After a few moments, the door opened easily, revealing that same sharply dressed man. He looked like he did when he was leaving for work; dressed to the nines in his pressed suit. He held a pipe in his right hand, which he brought to his mouth, puffing on it.

“Well,” he said, smoke flowing from his mouth as he looked carefully over your costume. You watched him as his eyes flitted over every detail, pleased with what he was seeing. You’d chosen it earlier that month, and were admittedly very proud of it. It was a butterfly; with sequined wings attached to your wrists, while a sequined bodice hugged you tightly. Long, graceful pieces of chiffon flowed from the bottom of the bodice, accentuating your figure even more. “I expected children tonight… but you…” 

He paused, puffing on his pipe again. He exhaled, and held his arms out, almost theatrically. 

“My dear, you are ravishing!” he exclaimed, his dark eyes wide. 

Here it was. The moment you hadn’t planned for. You were in front of him, and now? You swallowed back your nerves, hiding any indication that you were unsure of yourself and thrust your small jack-o-lantern forward. With a demure smile, you meekly said: “Trick or treat?” 

Immediately, he reached forward, taking hold of one of your wrists. He tugged on it with such power that your grip broke free from the handle and turned your delicate hand over in his large one, softly running the pad of his middle finger along your palm. It sent a tingling sensation up the length of your arm, which instinctively jerked, but he held you fast. 

Your stomach was in knots. And butterflies, with much stronger wings than your own, hammered around in your ribcage. From afar, you’d been enchanted but up close, you were ardently, and  wholeheartedly obsessed. His eyes were like circles of coal, black as the night above you, but somehow, pulled you in a way you’d never experienced before. Neither of you said anything for a moment, as if you both were savoring the silence, and taking lungfuls of each other’s existence.    

“Perhaps… you desire a treat of a different kind. Something sweeter.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at his words. 

“Please,” he said, tugging you in a little further. You nearly lost your footing on the edge of his threshold, but regained composure, and took a single step towards him. Sensing some apprehension, he smiled warmly… invitingly, and quickly stepped to your side. 

“My name is James March. I own a hotel downtown.” He said, as he lured you deeper and deeper into his lavish home, as if the information would soothe your mind that he was a good man. He wasn’t, but that was none of your concern.  “Perhaps you’ve heard of it? The Hotel Cortez.” 

You let out a tiny gasp. You had, of course. Anyone who lived in Los Angeles had heard of the luxurious new hotel that had opened up on South Olive Avenue – and here you were, in his home. Your mother would be proud. Wouldn’t she? 

Your head pivoted from side to side as he guided you inside, taking in the beautifully designed house. It was art-deco, and elaborate in decor. But pitch black in all the corners. It was darker than you liked, and the darkness loomed from all the corridors, inviting you deeper with lengthy, unseen fingers.

You shivered and turned your attention back to him. His, seemingly, had never left yours. You weren’t even sure he’d blinked. 

“Surely, you’re hosting a Halloween party at the hotel?” 

“That was last night, my little butterfly. Devil’s Night is my night for celebrating.”

The comment unsettled you, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. You suspected it was because he’d called you his little butterfly and that was much more of an interesting thing to focus on. 

You smiled softly. 

He led you into a drawing room of sorts, a large room with a massive fireplace and windows that looked out onto the yard. The fireplace wasn’t lit, but the few wall sconces were, casting eerie, long shadows onto the floor. After only a few seconds, James’ hands seemed to crawl up your arms and around your back. He pulled you quickly towards him, compressing your body against his. You were toe to toe with him then, and the sensation thrilled you. 

James panted, as though he’d just run a mile. He hadn’t, but the feeling of being close to you was enough to get his systems running. You stood stock still, still clutching your Halloween pail in your hand. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you lightly a few times. As if on cue, your body melted into his, muscles loosening against his grip. 

“You’ll have to forgive my… ravenous demeanor. I’m taken by your luminous beauty. Captivated by it! Enamored with it!”

You shivered in his clutches, feeling his body pressing tight against yours. His arms wound around you more firmly, like a snake. You hadn’t expected the interaction to go this way, but you weren’t complaining. Not in the slightest. 

“I live across from you, you know.” You said abruptly, looking up into his inky hues. 

“Do you?”

“Mhm,” you say, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. Your free hand floated up, resting on his chest next to your face. “I do.” 

“And you’ve never come to introduce yourself before this spectacular holiday? My, what manners.” 

His hand came up from your arm to your chin, where he carefully lifted it. You yielded to his power, and your eyelids drooped shut as his lips pressed against yours. His moustache tickled your top lip, but the feeling was oh so divine – the way he kissed you oozed control, opulence and promises of what was to come. 

He kissed you like that for so long that you had to pull away, gasping for air. If you were being honest with yourself, it almost frightened you – the way he kissed you. It frightened you how it made you feel, and how hungrily he devoured you, without so much as a word. You searched his eyes, desperately.

“Don’t you speak to me about manners. Not after a kiss like that….” 

He hummed low in satisfaction and pulled you back in again, this time, allowing his tongue to sweep across your bottom lip, hungrily tasting your essence. You shuddered again, unable to control the physical reaction your body had. You’d been kissed only a handful of times, but never like he kissed you. It was an all-consuming feeling, one that you felt pooling deep in your stomach. There was an undeniable warmth on your rouged cheeks and between your legs. He kissed you deeper, the wet muscle swirling with yours. 

He paused for only a moment, to lead you to the large sofa that sat adjacent to the fireplace. After urging you down onto  it, he joined you, sitting next to you. Then, carefully, he untied the ribbons from your wrists, allowing the wings to fall down your back. His hands trailed up the beaded bodice, fingers raking over the smooth beads and though it was impossible, you swore you could feel the warmth of his hands as they caressed your sides, ghosting over the ornate fabric. Nimbly, he clasped the zipper pull at your side between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling it down abruptly. The dress fell apart underneath your arm, and to your surprised delight, his fingers slipped against your ribcage. 

Ahh, he thought. Warm flesh. There. So alive.  

“A treat, indeed…” He crooned. With an already lust-blown gaze, you looked into his eyes and leaned into him, taciturnly begging for another kiss. He obliged, of course, by capturing your face in his hands and lifting your head to his own. Again, his mouth found yours, but not before peppering kisses up along the length of your jaw, and nipping at the soft, supple flesh there. You yelped quietly, never having felt the teeth of a man on your skin. He was like a beast. A very well-dressed, lethally handsome beast. 

Those were the worst kind. 

“I didn’t really come here for candy, Mr. March…” 

“I know, my sweet. I know exactly what you came for.”

You felt your back lean against the curve of the sofa as he eased you back into it, his body weight atop yours. Your breath caught in your throat again, for the umpteenth time that night. You were incredulous over the fact that despite never having spoken to him, you were suddenly in his arms, underneath him while he assaulted you with hungry kisses, marking your neck and face. 

You felt a pressure against your inner thigh, a pressure you knew all too well. You hitched your hip up, pressing back against him and James responded by hissing sharply through his teeth. 

“Little devil,” he crooned low, looking into your eyes with a desperate glare. 

He urged himself against you again, clearly testing your boundaries. Much to his surprise, you had none. You spread your legs a little bit wider, allowing him in. He positioned his hips between yours and the throbbing pressure then pressed against your center. You felt it twitch against you, and hummed a happy, delirious little sound. His hips ground against yours, the outline of his cock heavy and straining against the fabric of his trousers. 

He thrust into you and you whined. It was a high pitched sound that echoed off the walls, and James seemed… over enamored by this. You watched as the gears turned. 

Her screams….  He thought, madly looking at you as your chest rose and fell so rhythmically. …her screams must be divine…. 

He thrust again, harder that time, and you gripped the back of his neck desperately, letting out another little vocalization. 

He thrust once more, and you felt your breasts bounce underneath your dress, moving with the robust animalism of his thrusts. Blistering heat pooled between your legs; you weren’t sure where his warmth ended and yours began. It didn’t matter. Your lids were heavy with arousal as you clamored, gripping the back of his neck to brace yourself for the oncoming thrusts.

But they didn’t come. He clenched his teeth, looking down at you with a curbed hunger. 

“Ah, I mustn’t.” he said suddenly. 

“You mustn’t?” You echoed, sounding somewhat dejected. 

“As much as I want to,” he started, stroking the side of your face. “I must exercise strength.”

You felt the muscles in your face turn down, clearly disheartened. 

“No…” you cooed, gripping the front of his suit jacket in your delicate hands. “You must. You don’t understand, I’ve spent months watching you… oh, you must forgive me for how that sounds, but it’s the truth! I have, I can see you from my bedroom window, and every morning you leave, I’m there, watching.” 

Wide-eyed, almost crazed. He looked enamored with the news; like he’d been told he’d won the lottery. “Is that so?” 

“Yes! Yes!” You tugged on his collar again, pulling him back into you. The small amount of space he’d interjected between you was unbearable. “Please… don’t stop.” 

“Awh,” he moaned, sympathetically. “How delicious.” 

“Mr. March –” 

“James.” 

“James, please.”

You urged your hips against his, sweeping them back and forth. He was hardened above you, so why on Earth did he want to stop? The question baffled you. 

His grip on the back of the sofa abandoned its post and immediately clamped onto your wrist. Hard. You winced slightly, though the arousal didn’t leave your core. 

“My little butterfly… You flew to my door, of all doors, and you’re so willing– but we must control ourselves.” He paused, and his dark irises drifted to the side, almost dreamily. 

Finally, after a few moments, he said " again. “Perhaps you’d like to visit me at the Hotel.” 

“The Hotel?” You questioned. A tempting invite, but one that you weren’t sure you cared for at the current moment. What was he going to do? Give you a grand tour? When he already had you right where he wanted you? 

“Yes, my Hotel.” 

“Why… yes, yes I would, but why can’t we – “ 

He shushed you, stuttering out shh’s. “All in due time.”

He stood up and that’s when you noticed the outline of his rock hard cock. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed by it, and looked up to him as he loomed over you. James made quick work of retying your ribbons and zipping up your dress. Wordlessly, he took your hand, lifted you from the sofa and guided you back to the front door, opened it and gently pushed you outside. 

“Friday, six o’clock. Six-one-seven south—”

“Olive street.” You said as you turned around, looking up at him as he stood in front of his door. “I know where it is. Everyone does, James.”

His ego swelled, much like his dick had. He was inexplicably pleased that you were so taken by him, but he had to restrain himself. At least until he had you in the confines of the Cortez. He nodded once, curtly. 

You hesitated a moment to see if he was going to change his mind. When he didn’t, you turned and headed back down the road you’d walked up only an hour ago. 

And he waited in the chill of the night, watching as you retreated into the darkness with a pleased grin across his face. 

And  he waited some more. 

He waited until the light went on in a window adjacent to his home. The silhouette of a woman appeared between the curtains, and James smiled, lifting his hand in a polite wave.

“I’ll have you, my little butterfly. Fret not.”

[ev4npeterslover]

jpm x reader (warning: smut, and all that stuff that’s in smut’s😭)

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You and Liz were talking and drinking at the bar like y’all always do. Liz were always curious about your relationship with James but you would always that “it’s just fine, nothing special” but this time you were a little bit more drunk that usual

“So now are you going to tell me a little bit more about you and James?” Liz asked you

“I don’t know, I mean I love him but I don’t think he loves me as much as I do” you responded quietly

“Wait what do you mean?”

“I love him so much really, but I still think he love the countess, I try not to think like this but this shit is hard”

“Oh honey I’m sure that he loves you and you don’t have to worr-“

She didn’t finish as she looked behind you, she stared to pretend that she was looking for something

You laid your head on the table and lit up your cigarette as you heard loud footsteps, suddenly someone grabbed you by your arm and dragged you to the lift, when you were in the lift you saw that James was the one that took you from the bar

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked angrily

“What am I doing? What are you doing talking about me like this darling?”

He grabbed you by the waist at lifted you up by your arms and kness, he carried you to your shared bedroom with him. He putted you down on the bed and started kissing your neck and also leaving hickey’s. You let out a soft moan so he know that you enjoy this and you want more. You wanted to take his pants off but he stopped you.

“No darling, you have to beg me now as your punishment for accusing me of not loving you”

You were so wet already just by the kisses that you would do anything now to feel him

“Oh please mr.march I beg you please fuck me”

You said with puppy eyes, and sweetes voice you could manage to do.

“I can’t resist you anymore darling” he said and started to take your dress off.

You were all his you wanted to feel his every inch, move just him in you.

“I’m so sorry mr.march that I said such cruel things about you I will never forgive myself I love you.”

The dress was already thrown out on the floor, your panties as well, you were laying only in your bra while James was also only in his boxers kissing you on your neck but slowly going down, he was unzipping your bra as you felt his erection getting bigger and bigger, you slided your hand into his boxers and slowly jerking james off, you could hear his moans in your ears so clear that you were getting also more wetter second by second.

You felt his hand sliding down and rubbing your cunt slowly you started to moan and gently whimpering you wanted more from him, you wanted to feel him inside you.

“Fuck me mr. March” you whispered to his ear

He took of his boxers, you could see his pre-cum, he went in. Out let out the loudest moan anyone could ever imagine you were sure everyone in the hotel heard you, you felt your walls hugging his dick around

“Oh Y/N you’re so tight and wet, you’re perfect”

He started to move more quickly and started to be more rough on you, his dick felt amazing in you, you could never have enough of him

“Harder mr. March! I’m so close” you screamed

He just smirked

He moved even faster which made you go to your climax right away, you cummed and moaned that loud that James cover your mouth with his hand. He didn’t stop moving, he was still going fast

You could feel that he was close too.

“Cum inside me mr. March” you moaned

“Always my dear”

You could feel your insides getting filled up my James cum, your legs were shaking, you were in heaven you don’t remember when was the last time you had such a great sex with james.

“I love you my dear Y/N” james said playing with your hair, laying next to you.

“I love you too mr. March” you said kissing his on the cheek.

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[nobitchs-world]

When y/n gets too annoying to the point you want to stop reading

[saintlucretia]

the feeling when your fictional crush is so wild you can't even defend them:

[wh0re43van]

“I need him biblically,,, I need him in a way that is concerning to feminism.”

Currently rewatching asylum for the first time since it aired. Evan really put his whole evussy into this role stg 🙏����

[demxnicprxncess]

Yall aint no mf way this was this good. When I say delicious, im just flat out gay atp cs ou lordt. Yall have to read this especially @ppawmpkin

cherry scented hallways

the countess x reader [fem x fem smut]

warnings - blood play/consumption, drug use, alcohol, lesbian sex ( scissoring & head fem receiving) , mommy kink (also some nipple sucking)

y/n pov

tranquillity pours through me as the acid slowly creeps in my veins. I walk upon the golden doors of the Hotel Cortez. a plump lady with round exhales as I walk in. "come on' in" her fingers hold a pen, lightly holding it above a notebook. my feet fumble lightly as I approach the desk. "I-uh- just for a night please" my eyes fixate on the chandeliers above. "Liz! take her" she says as she lays a key on the desk. the women walks away and from the floor above I see a tall man dressed outgoing with bold teal eyeliner. arms leaning against the balcony "elevators right there" he nods in direction "just 1 floor up" my body feels as if its floating during my 20 second elevator trip. liz greeted me and led me down a burgundy toned carpeted hallway. as he struts down the hall way, his hand holding the keys with sass. a beat in door with the number 46 stamped becomes unlocked with the key provided from the old women. "here you go, if you need a drink or 2, I'm at the bar near the elevator" the door shuts just as I walk in.

I wake up in a stiff, stale bed. memory of the Cortez is blurry. I turn over in confusion to see the numbers 3:00AM ; bright against the drim room. I sit up, feeling a humid layer of my sweat under me. an eerie aura makes the air thick. "hello, sweet child" a deep yet feminine voice speaks within the shadows. I look to my left to see a tall shadow, street lights spill through the windows, showing her figure. the figure lingers toward me, her heel clicks are in sync. she appears in the dim lamp light of my room; a luxurious blonde; accentuated cheekbones, beautiful lips with a hint of red, skin clear as day. I stare dazed "maybe its a bad trip" I think to myself. "welcome to the Cortez my darling; want a drink?" I nod without thinking. she pours a cherry colored wine in a thin glass. she places it on the bedside table, and sits on the side of the bed. I grab the glass and slip the glass between my lips. the liquid isn't wine, more sweet than wine. I try my hardest to not make an odd reaction "w-what is this" she smirks "I have a trick, I can make it taste like the most luxurious beverage you'll ever had" the acid in my body allows her to perform. a thin golden dagger comes from within her purse. the blade shines against her exposed cleavage. she makes a slit, like it's been done million times before. a healthy colored blood leaks from the slit. she stares in my eyes "clean it" she smiles. my drug stained lips open as my tongue removes the blood from her breast. my entire body goes into a euphoric feelings; stronger than any hard core drug I've ever taken. grabbing the glass knowing what was in it. I swallow knowing from that moment on, I'm addicted. she smirks "come with me darling"

I follow her down the dreary halls. before I knew it we were in a magnificent bedroom. on the massive bed laid a fresh corpse. she grabs my hand, and leads me towards my craving. as I go in to devour she looks at me and shakes her head in denial. she motions me onto bed spilled with blood. she undresses herself to reveal her naked figure. she lies on the bed and spreads her legs. she pours an amount of blood into her palm, and spills it on her cunt. she smirks "lick me up babygirl" i immediately shove my head between her legs, licking at her folds, getting any blood I can. I look up to her when I clean all the blood off. "make mommy feel good and you'll get more" I obey and continue to suck her clit and lick every crevice of her beautiful pussy. my fingers find her entrance and begin drilling into her. her moans are delicate as I bring pleasure. she sits up and squeezes blood from a limb beside me onto her clit. my craving for this beautiful women's pussy and the blood she gives me is so strong. she pushes me up and gets above me. tearing my clothes off, her eyes lighten at the sight of my naked breasts. she grabs a limb and pours ounces of blood onto my vagina. I look at her confused, she positions herself on top of me "mommy needs a ride" she whispers and she begins rubbing our cunts together. the blood moving between us, spreading up our thighs as we hump each other. the feeling is euphoric. our clits rubbing perfectly together cause the beautiful goddess and I to orgasm. we moan out in relief still thrusting as we come down from the high. she props herself up and pushes me toward her breast "show me that you're mommys girl" still throbbing my mouth takes her nipple in, submitting to her, worshipping her breast. she pets me as I stare up to her as i milk her nipple. she exhales and whispers "mommy has a new little whore" I eventually drift off to sleep as my mouth is latched to her beautiful breasts.

a/n - I've never written fem x fem smut before. but it's fun lmao. hope you guys enjoy :)

taglist - @jimmason @kitty4860 @brooklinn13

[bluerthanvelvet444]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝙿𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Frat boy Kyle Spencer x fem!reader

tags: slight angst, fluffy smut!

warnings: swearing, public sex, mentions of Kyle's abuse (poor baby), handjob, p in v.

summary: frat boy kyle being a sweetheart. that's all i have to say.

character count: 11k.

full fic under the cut ↓

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“I'm not going.” You replied, your voice firm and your eyes fixated on the math book that sat on the library's desk, trying to avoid the gaze-that you knew you couldn't resist-of the boy sitting in front of you. You heard him sigh as his doe eyes desperately tried to meet yours.

“But everyone is going…you can't miss it.” Kyle replied with his soft voice.

“I've never gone to any of those parties…why do you want me to go to this one so badly?” You spoke, with a noticeable hint of frustration in your voice.

“Because it's the end of the semester…something to celebrate. Plus, it's gonna be epic.” He said with a toothy smile plastered on his face.

“No, thanks. You know I don't roll with those frat boys.” You rolled your eyes, your words coming out harsh and spiteful.

“I'm a frat boy.” He said, raising an eyebrow, clearly confused by your statement.

“Yea- but you're…different.” You sighed.

It was true. He was indeed different from the frat boys he was friends with. You and Kyle met in Junior year of high school. You were paired up by your physics teacher, who suggested you could tutor Kyle, that at the time had terrible grades. You two clicked instantly, he was fun and outgoing, and you enjoyed spending time with him. Kyle had grown to be incredibly thankful for your help, in fact, he insisted that you were the one who made him passionate about physics, the subject that he used to despise and that now was his main department in college. Although he could seem like the usual asshole frat boy, Kyle was sweet and caring. You knew it, and no one could’ve made you change your mind on that. He was simply a sweetheart.

“Listen, I know my mates may seem rude or not well-behaved…but trust me, as a leader, I established some rules for them. They won’t act crazy, I promise.” His kind voice brought you back from your thoughts. You sighed, thinking about it.

“Brennan’s hosting the party in his summer mansion…it’s next to the beach- it’s so cool, I swear. I-I’ll take you there! I can pick you up and take you home…” He added, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Please?” He said in an adorable voice, his puppy eyes looking hopeful into yours.

You sighed, you didn’t wanna go, but it was utterly impossible to say no to him.

“Fine.”

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You were touching up your makeup. You were ready for the “big night” Kyle was so excited about. You decided to wear something a bit more revealing, a black minidress, because-okay, you didn’t wanna go- but you couldn’t be annoyed and unfashionable all at once.

While taking a final look in the mirror, you heard a knock on your door. You grabbed your bag and opened the door to see Kyle-in his usual frat sweater-smiling at you. He looked at you up and down, scaring you slightly. What if he didn’t like the dress or how it looked on you?

Fortunately, all your concerns faded once you saw his smile widening.

“Woah…you look beautiful. Seriously…you’re stunning.” He said, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, he wasn’t used to seeing you like this.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliments.

“Thank you…” You gave him an awkward smile and bit your lip.

“Shall we get going?” You suggested, to which he nodded. He took your hand and helped you step down the porch. Kyle led you to his car, and opened the door for you with a cute grin.

The ride was calm, you chit-chatted here and there about random stuff, and you swore you saw him staring at your body a few times. After 15 minutes or so, you eventually arrived at the party. Kyle was right, the mansion was beautiful and it faced the sea. You could see lights and music blasting out of the house. He gave you an excited grin and helped you out of the car, walking with you inside the house. It was overflowing with people laughing, playing games and having fun. As much as it seems hard to believe, you didn’t know anyone of those many people. They had familiar faces, sure, but you couldn’t consider them your actual friends. You sighed and nervously looked at Kyle who, on the other side, was flashing smiles to all his fellow frat brothers and friends. You noticed how comfortable he was in his habitat, and how you envied him for that. He introduced you to many people-whom you couldn’t even remember the names of-that obviously didn’t care much about getting to know you, since they even could’ve sworn you did not go to that college. You were invisible even when the attention was on you, and Kyle clearly didn’t catch that. So when he was dragged by his mates to some kind of game, he told you with a chuckle and a rushed tone

“I-I’ll be right back! Chat with the girls, they’re fun!”

Fun. Right. You didn't mean to sound like an antisocial bitch, but they were everything but fun. You saw them from afar just taking pictures of each other-to show on Instagram how much fun they were pretending to have having-or teasing each other about their crushes. You felt bored, so you sat on a chair, sipping a cup of-what you hoped was-punch and waited for Kyle. Time passed, and he didn’t show up, so you got up and started searching for him. It didn’t take you much to find him. Kyle was on the karaoke stage, singing “Rosanna” by Toto.

“Meetcha all the way! Nananaaaaah…” He “singed” while laughing with his mates.

You were conflicted on what to do now. You didn’t want to be a bummer by clinging to him all night, but you were truly bored and felt lonely. So, you did what you believed was best for everyone, you grabbed your stuff and left. The moment you stepped outside, you were met by an unfamiliar feeling of peace, the view surprising you for its beauty and for being so…empty. It was quiet, the only sound that could be heard were the waves splashing against the sand, no people around. You smiled and made your way to the pier nearby. You sat on it and took your shoes off, allowing your feet to sink in the water.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you were brought back to reality when you felt Kyle's voice behind you.

“Here you are! I searched for you everywhere!” He was breathing fast, you believed he had been running while seeking for you.

“I thought I left you a message?” You tilted your head.

“Oh… Sorry. I can’t find my phone. Why are you all alone here? The whole fun is inside!” He replied with a giant boyish smile.

“I like it better here. It’s boring inside.” You turned your face to look at the sea again.

“What? How can you call it boring? There are plenty of games! And people inside-” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Kyle, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not popular like you. The people inside couldn’t care less about me. I feel less lonely here than in that crowded house.”

He looked at you confused.

“Aw, c’mon…don’t be like this. They’re nice people, you just have to make an effort to try to meet them, and I’m sure you’ll have fun.” You didn’t know why those words started a fire in you.

“They’re not my friends, Kyle. I can’t stand those people, I don’t get along with them. And trust me, I’ve tried to be social and friendly, but you may have to consider the idea that not everyone is like you. You’re easygoing and social, you're a freaking frat boy for fuck’s sake. It’s easy for you to say those things.”

He looked at you, mouth agape at your sudden outburst.

“…why didn’t you just tell me?” He looked at you like a sad puppy for bringing you somewhere that made you uncomfortable.

“And be more of a bummer? No, thanks. They already hate me, I don't wanna be a party pooper as well.” You crossed your arms.

He sat next to you on the pier and his fingers gently grazed your jaw to make you look at him.

“You’re not a bummer to me…a-and I’m sorry about that… I shouldn’t have left you alone. Sorry.”

You wanted to be mad at him, truly, but those cute brown eyes melted your heart in every way possible. You bit your lip as you admired him lovingly. He was so caring and sweet, how did you manage to get this lucky?

“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, I- that’s the last thing I’d ever want. You know I care about you… I can’t stand you being mad at me. Please, forgive me?”

You felt your heart tighten at those words. You gave him a slight nod as your eyes travelled down his lips. You wanted to kiss him so badly, and he probably caught onto that, since he slowly leaned in to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away slightly, mumbling against your lips.

“Was that okay?” You nodded, and he leaned in again, kissing you once more. This time he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip in your mouth and softly swirling it around yours. You let out a breath at how right that felt and how sweet he was being. You pulled him slightly closer and moved your hand to rest on his neck and caress the skin of it. After a bit, you moved your lips to peck his jaw a few times before trailing them down on his neck. Your lips worked sweetly on his skin at first, earning a few sighs from him. As the tension grew, you started sucking his neck, leaving red marks. He groaned and grabbed your waist, you subtly moved your hand down to massage the bulge from his pants. He let out a tiny gasp, and you felt him stiffen, not in a good way. You looked up at him with a confused expression.

“I-I’m sorry…please keep going…” He said with a nervous smile.

“What’s wrong? Did you not like that? It’s okay if you don’t want to…” You gave him a comprehensive look.

“No! I like that… I swear. Just…bad memories.”

“Do you wanna talk about it…?”

“No, I just wanna feel good now.”

You nodded and gave him a gentle peck on his lips before gently undoing his zipper. You ran your fingers over the visible shape of his dick through his underwear, earning a groan from him. You looked at him for consent before gently pulling his boxers down. You blushed as you saw him so vulnerable for the first time. Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking him slowly. He let out a breathy moan.

“G-god…don’t stop…”

You smiled and started progressively speeding up. After a few minutes, you heard his moans grow louder, and you felt his strong hand gripping your wrist.

“I…wanna do it. Is that okay?”

You nodded, and he sat up to gently remove your dress and everything underneath. He was stunned by your body, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He helped you lay down, with a massive gentleness, as if you were capable of breaking if handled too roughly. He hovered on top of you, caressing your face as he lined up your entrance with his dick.

“This okay?” He muttered under his breath, to which you answered with a nod. He gently pushed into you, allowing you to adjust to the new feeling. He groaned when he pushed himself all the way in. He held your hand sweetly.

“Can I start moving?”

“Mhm…”

He slowly started thrusting in you, earning moans from you both. He gripped your hand tighter as he felt how your walls clenched around him. When he felt like you were ready, he started going faster, gripping your hand tightly and kissing you repeatedly through the whole thing. You could've sworn you were seeing stars when he started hitting your G-spot with his tip. Soon enough, your moans got louder and you felt yourself coming on his dick. He tried his best to contain his moans and as soon as you finished he pulled out to come on your tummy. He collapsed onto you, pecking your face repeatedly.

“I love you…” He mumbled.

After some time had passed, he got up and cleaned you with the salty water, giggling like a teen boy receiving his first kiss. When he helped you gain your-and his-decency again, he got up, throwing an arm around you and walking happily towards his car.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

a/n: I love Kyle he's so babygirllll. also look at the cute picture i found on pinterest (the one under the title) that boy looks so much like kyle. got me screaming when I saw it. Anywaysssssss. I might post a part 2 of this with frankenkyle, but I gotta finish Peter fics first (spoiler). Let me know if you like it💕💕

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all rights reserved!!

[likablenightmare]

I.. uh..YES. I’m down. Sorry guys.. are u mad at me?

[americanwh0rerstory]

The evans: sex after a fight

CONTAINS: Tate, kyle, jimmy, james

Content warning: dacryphillia, choking kink, unprotected p in v, knife play, blood play, finger sucking

NSFW: Minors DNI. by reading past the cut off any media consumption is your own fault

A/N: it’s my first time writing smut, so it’s poorly written. hopefully it’ll improve in the future🙏

Tate Langdon

feels guilty for arguing with you

doesn’t want to lose you

is gentle and loving with you

holds your hand whilst he fucks you, murmuring apologies in between thrusts

cuddles and aftercare afterwards

… after giving you a half hour to be alone, he slinked back into your room, bringing you into a gentle hug whilst he ran his hand up and down your back. “sorry” he mumbled almost inaudibly into your hair whilst holding you against his chest. “lemme make it up to you” he whispered gently whilst beginning to pull your hoodie over your head, and slipping your panties down so they were bunched around your ankles. he then gently pushed you back onto the bed, laying you down before crawling atop you; he peppered gently kisses along your neck before slowly becoming more needy and aggressive with them, leaving small hickeys in his wake whilst he trailed down your body, whilst he laced his fingers with your own. he also paid extra attention to your tender and sensitive breasts, using his free hand to line his dick with your entrance and slowly push into you whilst he kissed your body. “i love you, im sorry” he mumbled in between gentle thrusts, and kitten licks to your boobs

Frat boy!Kyle Spencer

would not fuck you after a fight unless you explicitly said you wanted it

cuddles, snacks, drinks, and a movie night would be his go to apology for you

if you were to have sex, he’d do so gently and constantly ask for your consent

doesn’t want to make you mad, very mindful of your triggers

“is this good, do you like it?” kyle asks, lifting his head from between your thighs and looking up at you through his lashes with slightly disheveled hair; all he wanted to do was make you feel better - as per your request - and he wouldn’t stop trying until he knew you was happy with him again. “Ky i would’ve stopped you by now it i didn’t like it” you responded gently, using your hands to cup the back of his head and lightly tug on his hair so he would continue, and after a small hum of agreement he did just that. his lips latched around your clit and gently sucked, before using the flat of his tongue to run along your slit. everything he did brought waves of pleasure to you, everything he did would bring you closer and closer to climax. so when you eventually did, he’d look up at you with glistening lips, “was that good? did you like it?” he’d ask almost instantly, hoping his oral skills were good enough to make you forgive him

Jimmy Darling

would lose his temper and drink A LOT before coming to talk to you again

is a mess but gets his point across

uses his hands because he knows how good he is with them (remember his side hustle)

very apologetic after the sex and the next morning

“there ya go, let go baby” he slurs drunkenly to you, his deformed fingers pumping in and out of your tight and wet entrance and bringing you over the edge for the 3rd time that night. tears of pleasure and overstimulation pricked at the corner of your eyes, causing him to smirk ever so slightly “want me to stop, toots?” he’d ask in his ever so cocky tone, looking down at your spent body with a look of satisfaction. even though you had to guide his hand you entrave due to his drunken state, he never once failed to impress you with his abilities, it was just one of many. Once you finally blubbered out a ‘yes’ in response to his question he’d lick his fingers clean, savouring your taste, before gently laying down beside you. “you still mad at me? want me to do another round?” he mumbled with an undeniable smirk plastered on his face, flashing you his charming grin and a wink

James Patrick March

would spoil you with gifts in a hope to earn back your love, he doesn’t wanna risk losing it

would offer to murder someone for you, and let you partake if it’s your kinda thing

definitely have sex with you whilst covered in blood afterwards

showers you with compliments

despite you being mad at him, he couldn’t resist a little bit of minor knife and blood play

“I killed him, dearest” james states with a grin when he re-enters your hotel room, still wearing the leather mask he wore for the murders which slightly muffled his velvet-smooth brahmin accent. without taking his mask off, he drags the bloodied dagger along your clothes perfectly so they’d fall off and expose your body to him. “you look ravishing as always, like a renaissance piece” he’d say with a grin, a grin so big it was evidential in his voice. He gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth, the metallic taste of someone’s blood filling your senses. “come now, let me show you how perfect and ravishing you are” he’d say, using his free hand to gently push you back onto the bed. he’d then remove all his clothes aside from the mask, sliding himself into you with a soft groan. “perfect, heavenly even” he murmurs before removing his hand from your mouth and wrapping it lightly around your throat, not enough to hurt but just enough that it was pleasurable. he pumped in and out of you, lightly choking you whilst secretly staring at how your boobs bounced with every thrust, prompting him to go a bit faster and bring him to his inevitable climax. “you’re simply splendid, dear, not even words can describe how perfect you are”

A/N: i was gonna inclure kai but tumblr started lagging rlly bad. my requests r open. NOT PROOFREAD BTW

[taintandviolent]

lizzie's kinktober - week one; overstimulation ; James Patrick March.

warnings & a/n: 1k words! overstimulation, mild knife play, mentions of death. // this is short, but at least it's something for kinktober! I hope y'all enjoy it!!! sorry if it feels rushed and/or clunky! also (not) sorry that I always make James kill or hint that he kills reader -- he is a serial killer afterall!!

Conflicted; adjective — having or showing confused and mutually inconsistent feelings. To feel conflicted was to feel confused, lost, torn in two different directions. Something that you were, almost literally. You never orgasmed unless you were really turned on. The kind of turned on that had you writhing on your bed, searching for a pillow to grind your pathetic, dripping cunt on just for some relief.

Something about this uniquely dressed man with a molasses-smooth voice had you that turned on. When he’d invited you upstairs to his hotel room, you’d agreed, thinking that you were going to get off once or twice, and then bid him goodnight and think about him for the rest of your days. The one night stand in that weird old hotel…

You had, in fact, gotten off once or twice, but it hadn’t stopped there. After the fourth orgasm, you had stopped counting and had started crying, embarrassed that your body was convulsing with pleasure. Still, he continued. His fingers were masterful, moved quickly and pleasured you in ways that you had never even fantasised about.

It almost became too much. You were acutely aware of everything you were experiencing, down to the sheen of sweat that covered your entire body, and weighed down your delicate tresses. You’d lost track of how many times this man had made you cum, but you knew that you’d passed the point of pleasure, and were heading full force into the territory of pain. Something that he seemed to enjoy… deeply. Every whimper and mewl from you had him craning his neck in unadulterated pleasure, growling with pursed lips.

“Pl-please…” you begged, senselessly. It wouldn’t matter, not to him.

“Please?” He crooned. “Please what? Stop?”

“Y-yes….. please…. S-stop.”

“Awh, you know I can’t do that. Follow through with everything you do, that’s what my father always said.” His fingers ghosted near your clit again and you desperately wrenched your body forward, quivering as intensely as a woman riddled with fever.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he said. “I know you can and I plan to make you, my dear.”

With both hands, he forced your legs open at the knees and inserted himself between them. Even if you attempted to close them again, they’d be around him. His hand dropped to your thighs again, delicately stroking them. You lifted your head feebly to look into his eyes. Dark eyes so void of anything remotely nurturing, soulless, black and colder than a mausoleum. As he smiled fluidly, you accepted that there was nothing there for you, no mercy, no understanding. You winced as he made contact. The pad of his finger massaged your swollen clit, circling the sensitive nerves. He dipped down quickly, collecting a fingerful of your ample wetness, and returned to the stimulation. You squeezed your eyes shut, pulling roughly on the restraints. He’d tied your hands tightly, arms stretched outwards and secured on hooks in the wall. The euphoric adrenaline, surely, was helping your body not to ache as much as it should be, given your hanging position. You’d tried, many times, to find some relief from gravity, but your big toe barely touched the floor.

He fingered you with slow, deliberate motions and your cunt felt hot. Again. He picked up speed, rubbing his palm against your clit. Everything was so swollen, so sensitive, and so wet. No friction, only white hot, fiery pleasure coursing through your poor little body.

“That’s it,” he said, feeling the warning clench.

You came again with a scream, gushing out over his hand, filling up the cup of his palm. At that point, you weren’t sure what was coming from you; blood, piss, some euphoric orgasm liquid that spattered his floor… perhaps a combination of the three. You didn’t have it in you to care.

“And now,” he said, wiping his hand on his leather apron. “Now, it’s time for me to have mine.”

Your body was filled with energy, seem to pulsate with trepidation. You didn’t think that your body could handle another one. You’d pass out. Maybe just die right there. You violently kicked your legs, screaming through your teeth. “Are you trying to kill me!?”

“No,” he said, seeming offended that you’d even suggest such an atrocity. “That comes later.”

Oh.

“Tell me you want it.” He ordered, dragging his finger down the front of your torso. With his free hand, he unbutton his trousers, reaching inside them to free his stiff cock. “Tell me.”

Somehow, you knew exactly what it was you were supposed to say. Maybe it was because you really did want it, and deep down, you wanted another one. “I want you to fuck me, Mr. March…” You didn’t know what his first name was. He hadn’t told you. Only insisted that he be referred to as ‘Mr. March’ and nothing else.

“Good, good.” he said, pressing the squishy head of his cock into your folds. It bumped into your clit, sending a violent shudder through your body. The insides of your legs were wet.

“Watch.” He instructed, before gripping your hips with both hands. Your head dropped heavily forward to witness the breach. You had a better visual now, and so did he. He lifted your hips, angling them upwards so he could line up his cock. As he slid himself into your drenched cunt, he let out a deep snarl. He buried himself within you, your walls hugging his cock and surrounding it in slick and warmth. Mr. March quickly found his rhythm, hammering into you with purposeful, deep thrusts. Your eyes rolled back, lids fluttering helplessly. Your body quivered, shuddered, convulsed unwillingly every time he hit a point of pleasure, pounding into you. Every whimper that fell from your lips fuelled in some sick, undisclosed way.

You felt each clench of your pussy, laboured and aching. Exhaustion riddled your system, sending you into a delusional wavelength. As you felt another one rearing, you said his name, begging for relief. Whatever relief that may have been.

Your eyes fluttered open once more, though your lids were unimaginably heavy, and you saw his hand close around the handle of a shimmering blade. You feebly shook your head back and forth. As he came, coating your insides in ropes of white, you felt your consciousness slip between your fingers like sand. And all things considered, that was probably for the best.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @pursuedbyyogibear / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

[slut4evanpeters]

WitchBitch

james patrick march x fem!witch!reader

song i recommend listening to: spellbound by siouxise and the banshees

warnings: slow burn smut, master kink, overstimulation, fingering, obsession, mind tricks, smut at the very end and im sorry it ends abruptly🙁

summary: you are a rival witch of cordelia and her coven. To play mind games with her, you deicide to hold queenie in the hotel under a spell.

word count: 7.2k

notes: i came up with this in the shower.... i kind of rushed the smut im so bad at writing smut im sorry guys.. AND im so sorry for all the build up💀 when i write i cannot stop.

MDNI 18+

At the center of this forgotten palace of despair stood James Patrick March, poised in his fine three-piece suit. His sharp jawline and slicked-back hair framed a face that had not known the passage of time in decades. His dark eyes flickered with excitement, a glint of amusement dancing within them as he surveyed his kingdom. He leaned against the desk stood in the lobby, inspecting the tarnished silver of his pocket watch. Time, after all, had little meaning here, and yet, for James, the ticking of the clock always held a promise of something. Usually chaos.

“Darling,” came a voice from the grand staircase behind him, silky and soft, yet edged with a power that made the air hum.

He turned, a wide grin spreading across his face as he beheld his wife descending the staircase with all the grace and presence of a queen. You moved with an ethereal elegance, your long black dress trailing behind you like a shadow. Lock of hair cascaded over your shoulders, framing a face that was both beautiful and formidable, eyes like obsidian and sharp as a blade. You were every bit the rival to the Supreme of the coven that now sought you out, yet you moved as though nothing and no one could ever challenge your dominance.

“My love,” James purred, straightening from the desk and walking toward you with a swagger that was both dangerous and playful. He reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it reverently. His eyes never left yours, and the fire that burned in their depths was matched only by the one that coursed through your veins. “You grow more enchanting with each passing moment.”

You smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of your lips that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. “And you, my dearest James, ever the flatterer. But we both know you’re simply excited for the evening’s new guests.”

“Ah, yes,” James sighed dramatically, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “The witches. It’s been far too long since we’ve had such promising prey wander through our doors.” His eyes gleamed, and you could practically hear the wheels of his mind turning, already plotting the wicked games he would play with them.

You glanced toward the large, iron-bound doors of the hotel, sensing the approach of powerful magic. The coven was close now. Their magic thrummed in the air, sharp and clean, an affront to the ancient, dark energy that permeated the Cortez. They were intruding, bringing their light into a place where it had no business being.

“You do realize, my darling, that these witches are not mere mortals,” you said, your voice low and sultry, a warning laced within. “They’re Cordelia’s, and she is not one to be trifled with.”

James’s smile widened. “Oh, I do hope so.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at his eagerness. Despite his boundless enthusiasm for torment and chaos, you found his charm irresistible. It was that very dark charisma that had drawn you to him so many years ago, when your paths had first crossed in the shadows of death and magic. While most saw him as a madman, a murderer, you saw the brilliance in his madness, the artistry in his destruction. He was your perfect match, and together, you had created a life within the Cortez. An empire of secrets, blood, and eternal devotion.

“Don’t let your games get out of hand,” you murmured, resting your hand lightly on his chest. “Not yet, at least. There’s much to be gained from this encounter, and I’d rather not have it end too quickly.”

His expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup your face. “Of course, my love. For you, I shall practice…restraint.”

You arched a brow, knowing full well how long such promises lasted with him, but you trusted that his loyalty to you would hold. It always had. His devotion to you was absolute, just as yours was to him.

“I’ll handle Cordelia,” you continued. “She knows I’m here, she’ll come for me first. The others are less important. Let them wander, let them think they have the upper hand.”

James’s grin turned predatory. “And then, we shall give them a proper welcome.”

The two of you stood in the dim light of the lobby, a portrait of dark elegance and dangerous power, ready to face whatever came next. Together, you were unstoppable.

Cordelia Goode had always been cautious, but there was a grim determination in her eyes as she stood outside the Hotel Cortez, flanked by several members of her coven. The hotel loomed before them, an imposing structure of iron and stone, its windows like hollow eyes staring back at them. The air around the hotel felt wrong, thick with malevolent energy.

“I can feel Queenie,” Cordelia said, her voice quiet but resolute. “She’s trapped in there. But there’s something else. Something darker.”

“Is it her?” asked Zoe, glancing nervously at the building. The younger witch had heard the stories about the infamous rival of their coven, the witch who had once stood toe to toe with the previous Supreme, Fiona Goode, and lived to tell the tale. A witch whose power was said to rival even Cordelia’s.

“Yes,” Cordelia confirmed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s here. And she’s the one who holds Queenie’s soul.”

The coven exchanged uneasy glances. They knew what this meant. This wasn’t just a rescue mission, this was a confrontation with a force as old and powerful as any they had faced.

“We go in together,” Cordelia said firmly, “and we do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Our goal is to find Queenie and get out. Understood?”

The witches nodded in agreement, though there was an undercurrent of fear beneath their bravado. None of them knew exactly what they would face inside the Cortez, but they trusted in their Supreme’s leadership.

As they pushed open the heavy doors of the hotel, they were immediately engulfed by its oppressive atmosphere. The air inside was thick, suffocating, and the very walls seemed to pulse with a dark energy. The witches instinctively huddled closer together, their magical senses heightened, every nerve on edge.

“Stay close,” Cordelia whispered, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life or death.

They moved cautiously through the lobby, their footsteps echoing in the silence. There was no sign of anyone, no indication of the horrors that lurked within. Yet the magic here was unmistakable, a heavy blanket of darkness that threatened to smother them with every step.

And then, a voice rang out, smooth and elegant, laced with a dark amusement.

“Cordelia Goode, the Supreme herself. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”

You stepped out from the shadows, your presence commanding the room in an instant. The witches stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of you dressed in black, your eyes glittering with power and amusement.

Cordelia’s expression hardened. “You know why we’re here.”

You smiled, a slow, predatory smile. “Yes, of course. The poor little witch, trapped in my hotel. You’ve come to retrieve her.”

Cordelia stepped forward, her voice unwavering. “Let Queenie go.”

You tilted your head slightly, considering her. “And why would I do that? She came here of her own accord, after all. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle the…atmosphere.”

Behind you, James appeared, his expression one of gleeful anticipation. He was clearly enjoying the tension in the room, his eyes flitting between you and the witches like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Now, now, my love,” he said, his voice a dark purr. “Let’s not be too hasty. I think our guests have only just arrived.”

You remained still, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. The Supreme witch’s determination was palpable, but so was the unease rippling through her coven. You could feel the raw tension in the room, the fear of the unknown, of a place that fed on souls.

James stepped forward, his stride confident and languid, almost like a panther stalking its prey. He cast an amused glance toward the witches, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were about to address guests at a grand party.

“My dear ladies,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet, “you’ve wandered into my humble abode, and yet, you haven’t even introduced yourselves. Quite rude, wouldn’t you agree?”

You raised an eyebrow at Cordelia, your amusement matching James’s. “James does so love proper introductions.”

Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough games,” she snapped. “We’re here for Queenie. We’re not leaving without her.”

“Ah, yes,” James said, his smile widening as he looked up toward the ceiling, as if recalling a fond memory. “The one who thought she could wield power here. A futile endeavor, really.”

“She belongs to my coven,” Cordelia said, her voice steady, though you could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes. “And I will not leave her here to suffer in this wretched place.”

James tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Suffer? I don’t know if she’s suffering, dear, but she certainly isn’t going anywhere.”

You watched Cordelia closely. You could feel her power, her strength radiating from her in controlled waves. She was no fool. She knew what she was up against, and yet she had come. That kind of courage, or perhaps it was desperation, made her dangerous. But you had been waiting for this confrontation, this inevitable meeting between you and Cordelia, two witches on opposite sides of magic, each vying for control in their own way.

“You’re a fool if you think you can walk in here and demand anything,” you said, your voice calm but lethal. “This hotel is not a place for your kind. Magic here is twisted, corrupted. Your light will do nothing but feed the shadows.”

“I’m well aware of the darkness that lurks here,” Cordelia said, her eyes flicking from you to James, and then back to you. “But I won’t leave without her.”

A tense silence followed her words, and you felt the coven shift behind her, preparing themselves for whatever might come next. James’s smile was almost gleeful now, his eyes lighting up with the promise of chaos. He took a step closer to Cordelia, but before he could speak, you laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Patience, my love,” you said softly, though your voice carried a warning. “There’s no need to rush.”

He looked down at you, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you ever saw. Devotion. In all his madness, his bloodlust, there was one constant: you. He would burn the world for you, but he would also restrain his hand at your command.

He nodded slightly, and you turned back to Cordelia. “I’ll make you a deal, Supreme.”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

“Find Queenie, if you can,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “If she truly wants to leave, I’ll allow it. But if she’s chosen to remain…well, that’s another matter entirely.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. “Agreed.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that she had no idea what she was truly agreeing to. “Good. I’ll even give you a head start. This hotel has many secrets, after all. You may find that time slips away from you faster than you realize.”

With a wave of your hand, the air in the lobby shifted, the dark energy of the hotel pulsing with newfound intensity. The witches tensed as the walls around them seemed to ripple, and the very atmosphere became heavier, more oppressive.

“Good luck,” you said, your voice low and laced with amusement. “You’ll need it.”

Cordelia gave you one last hard look before turning to her coven. “Stay together,” she ordered, her voice firm. “And don’t trust anything you see.”

The witches moved cautiously, their eyes darting around the room as they made their way deeper into the hotel. You watched them go, feeling the pulse of the hotel’s malevolent energy feeding off their fear, twisting the corridors ahead of them into a labyrinth of confusion and dread.

As the last witch disappeared from sight, James let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, they have no idea, do they?”

You turned to him, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Not in the slightest.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Shall we watch them squirm, darling?”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with dark delight. “Oh, yes. You know me so well.”

Cordelia led her coven through the dimly lit hallways of the Cortez, her senses on high alert. The walls seemed to close in around them, shifting and warping as they moved, but she kept her focus on the faint magical trace that lingered in the air. She could still feel Queenie’s presence, but it was faint, as though something—or someone—was deliberately obscuring her.

“This place is a nightmare,” Zoe muttered, glancing nervously at the flickering lights overhead.

“Stay close,” Cordelia said again, her voice steady. “This hotel plays tricks. It’s feeding off the darkness within it.”

“Do you really think she’ll let Queenie go?” Madison asked, her voice dripping with skepticism. “She didn’t exactly seem eager to bargain.”

Cordelia didn’t respond immediately. She knew the witch who ruled this hotel—knew her power, her cunning. The woman was dangerous, and whatever hold she had over the hotel made her nearly invincible here. But Cordelia couldn’t afford to show doubt. She had to believe that she could bring Queenie back, no matter the cost.

“She’s stalling,” Cordelia said finally. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t find her.”

The witches moved in silence for a while, the oppressive air of the hotel making it hard to think clearly. The corridors stretched endlessly before them, each one seeming to lead deeper into the maze-like structure. Cordelia could feel the hotel’s magic pushing against her, trying to disorient her, but she held firm. She had to.

After what felt like hours, they turned a corner and came face to face with a tall, dark door at the end of the hall. Cordelia felt the pull of magic behind it—strong, twisted magic that made her stomach turn.

“She’s in there,” Cordelia said, her heart pounding.

The witches exchanged uneasy glances, but they followed Cordelia as she approached the door. With a deep breath, she pushed it open.

Inside, the room was vast and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and decay. And there, in the center of the room, sat Queenie.

She looked different, her eyes hollow, her skin clammy. She stared straight ahead, unmoving, as though she hadn’t noticed them enter.

“Queenie,” Cordelia whispered, stepping forward.

But as she approached, she felt the familiar pull of magic around her, a trap.

The door slammed shut behind them, and the lights flickered out.

In the darkness, you and James watched from the shadows, your smiles hidden but unmistakable.

Let the game begin.

The room plunged into darkness, and the oppressive weight of magic bore down on Cordelia and her coven. The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls of the Hotel Cortez were alive, breathing and shifting around them. Cordelia’s heart pounded in her chest, but her voice remained steady.

“Stay calm,” she commanded, though she could sense the rising panic in the witches behind her.

“Queenie,” Cordelia called again, her voice carrying through the heavy shadows. She could still see Queenie, seated in the center of the room, her figure faintly illuminated by the dying embers of the flickering lights. Yet, the silence from her was unnerving—no movement, no response. Something was terribly wrong.

Madison, always quick to lash out when threatened, raised her hand, a burst of energy erupting from her fingertips to light up the space. The dim glow revealed the eerie stillness of the room, but as the energy crackled toward Queenie, it dissipated against an invisible barrier, fizzling out before it could even reach her.

“Damn it!” Madison hissed, frustration evident in her voice. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s not her,” Zoe whispered, her voice shaking as her eyes darted around the room. “It’s a trap.”

Cordelia took a step closer, her hand outstretched toward Queenie. Her instincts screamed for her to pull back, but she had come too far to hesitate now. The closer she got, the more she could feel the distortion in the air, the unnatural magic wrapping around her friend. Something was holding Queenie in place, something ancient and powerful.

Just as her fingers brushed the edge of the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room shuddered violently. The lights flickered back to life, casting the room in a sickly, yellow glow. And then, with a low, menacing chuckle, the shadows shifted.

James Patrick March stepped out of the gloom, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. He was the picture of calm elegance, his three-piece suit immaculate as always, but there was a madness in his grin that sent a shiver down Cordelia’s spine.

“My, my,” James said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’ve made it so far, Supreme. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Cordelia didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained locked on James, her expression hardening. “Where is she?”

James raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “Who, darling? The witch trapped in her own mind? Or the one you call Queenie?”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Cordelia snapped. “Let her go.”

James’s smile widened, his gaze flicking between the witches. “But why would I do that? You see, Queenie has made herself quite…comfortable here. In fact, I daresay she rather enjoys her time in my humble hotel.”

From the shadows behind James, you emerged, your figure as graceful and commanding as ever. Dressed in your flowing black gown, you looked like a dark queen reigning over a twisted court. Your eyes glittered with dangerous amusement as you took your place beside your husband, your hand lightly resting on his arm.

“She’s ours now,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “This hotel has a way of holding onto those who don’t belong. Your precious Queenie is no exception.”

Cordelia’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she held her ground, her gaze never leaving you. “Queenie doesn’t belong to anyone,” she said, her voice cold and firm. “I’ll bring her back, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

You smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “You still don’t understand, do you, Cordelia? This hotel… it has its own will. Once you step inside, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are. The Cortez decides who stays, and who leaves.”

“And Queenie,” James added, his eyes alight with dark pleasure, “has already made her choice.”

Cordelia took a step forward, her magic pulsing in the air around her. “You’re wrong. I can feel her. She’s trapped, but she’s fighting. I will free her.”

You and James exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between you. Then, with a slight nod from you, James stepped back, giving you the floor.

“Very well, Supreme,” you said, your tone mocking but laced with undeniable power. “If you believe you can free her, then try. But know this—once you start, there’s no turning back. The Cortez doesn’t like to be challenged, and neither do I.”

Cordelia squared her shoulders, her determination unwavering. She knew this was a battle not just against you and James, but against the very fabric of the hotel itself. But she wasn’t going to back down, not with Queenie’s life on the line.

She raised her hands, and a soft glow began to emanate from her fingertips. The air around her shimmered as she channeled her magic, directing it toward Queenie. The witches behind her tensed, readying themselves for whatever might come next.

But as soon as Cordelia’s magic made contact with the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room erupted into chaos.

The walls seemed to bend and twist, the floor beneath them rippling like water. The lights flickered violently, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to move on their own. And then, the laughter started—low, menacing, echoing from every corner of the room.

James’s laughter.

Cordelia’s magic surged against the barrier, but it held strong, feeding off the dark energy of the hotel. Queenie remained frozen, her eyes wide and glassy, as if trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

“You can’t win,” you said, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “This hotel is alive, and it’s hungry. It won’t let her go.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t stop. Her magic intensified, the glow around her hands brightening as she pushed harder against the barrier. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she refused to relent.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia barked, her voice strained. “Help me!”

The two witches immediately stepped forward, joining their magic with Cordelia’s. The air crackled with energy as the combined power of the three witches surged toward Queenie, pushing against the dark barrier that held her captive.

But for every inch they gained, the hotel fought back, its malevolent energy twisting and warping around them. The shadows writhed, the walls groaned, and the very air seemed to close in, choking them.

James watched, his grin never faltering. “Oh, how delightful,” he mused. “Such

determination, such power. But it’s all for nothing.”

You stood by his side, your arms crossed, watching with cool detachment. Part of you admired Cordelia’s strength, her refusal to give up even in the face of overwhelming odds. But you knew how this would end. The Cortez had claimed Queenie, just as it had claimed so many others before her.

Still, there was something intriguing about watching Cordelia fight, watching her defy the will of the hotel and push herself beyond her limits. You wondered, briefly, if perhaps there was more to her than you had given her credit for.

And then, with a deafening crack, the barrier around Queenie shattered.

The room fell silent.

Queenie slumped forward, gasping for breath, her body shaking as the dark magic released its hold on her. Cordelia rushed forward, catching her before she could collapse to the floor.

“You’re okay,” Cordelia whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, it seemed as though they had won.

But then, the floor beneath them began to tremble.

James’s laughter returned, louder, more manic than before. He clapped his hands together, delighted by the unfolding drama. “Oh, how marvelous! You broke the barrier! But I’m afraid it’s far from over.”

You stepped forward, your eyes locked on Cordelia. “You may have freed her from the trap,” you said, your voice soft but deadly, “but the Cortez is not so easily defied.”

The room around them began to warp once again, the walls bending and twisting as the hotel itself reacted to the break in its hold. The shadows grew darker, more oppressive, as the malevolent energy of the hotel surged to reclaim what it had lost.

“You’ve only made it angrier,” you continued, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. “And now, it will take everything from you.”

Cordelia’s heart raced, her grip on Queenie tightening as the room around them seemed to collapse in on itself. She had freed her friend, but at what cost?

The hotel was alive, and it was hungry.

And it wasn’t done with them yet.

The floor trembled violently beneath them, the Cortez reacting like a beast enraged. Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat as she held Queenie close, feeling the suffocating darkness around them. The hotel wasn’t merely a structure anymore—it was a force, something ancient, malevolent, and entirely beyond her control. It roared with fury as if the very act of defying its will had triggered a primal hunger that could not be quenched.

Queenie gasped for air, her eyes wide and terrified as she clung to Cordelia’s arm. “We… we have to get out of here,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from the ordeal.

Cordelia’s eyes darted around the room. The shadows were thickening, growing darker and denser, creeping along the walls like living tendrils. The witches could feel it too, the oppressive force pressing down on them, threatening to engulf them.

“We will,” Cordelia promised, though she wasn’t sure how. “Madison, Zoe, stay close.”

Madison’s usual bravado had vanished, her face pale as she looked at the twisting, warping shadows. “This place is alive,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “And it wants us dead.”

“Queenie’s free,” Zoe added, but her voice was shaky. “We did it. We can get out.”

“You think this is over?” you said softly, your voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade. There was an eerie calmness in your tone, but the power behind it was unmistakable. You took a few steps forward, the dark fabric of your gown trailing across the floor like a wave of shadows. “The Cortez doesn’t just let go, Cordelia. You should know that by now.”

Cordelia met your gaze, her determination still burning, but she knew you were right. She could feel it—the hotel wasn’t done with them. It wouldn’t stop until it had claimed something. The darkness was closing in fast, and even the combined magic of the coven felt like a flickering candle in a storm.

James stepped forward as well, his smile never faltering. He relished the chaos, the fear, and the power that swirled around him. “You’ve broken one little spell, Supreme,” he said, tilting his head. “But now, the hotel is awake. And it’s hungry. You’ve only made things… more interesting.”

His voice dripped with excitement, as if he couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold. His dark eyes glittered with madness as he stepped closer to you, his arm casually slipping around your waist. There was something so grotesque yet elegant in the way he moved, like a spider closing in on a fly caught in its web.

You allowed him to pull you closer, your eyes still on Cordelia. “This hotel is more than just brick and mortar,” you continued, your voice low but commanding. “It’s a living entity, sustained by the souls it consumes. It’s bound to us now. James and I are its caretakers… and its rulers. You can’t fight that.”

Cordelia clenched her fists, her magic crackling in the air around her. “I’ll fight for her, for all of them,” she said, her voice unwavering despite the rising panic. “I’ve faced worse than you.”

But deep down, Cordelia knew you were right. The Cortez was a labyrinth, designed to disorient and ensnare those who wandered its halls. Every inch of it was saturated with dark magic, and even with all her power, she wasn’t sure if she could get them out. Not without losing someone.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia said, her tone sharp, urgent. “We need to find a way out. Now.”

Madison glanced at the walls, which seemed to pulse and ripple like the surface of a black sea. “And how exactly do we do that?” she snapped, her usual snark barely concealing the fear in her voice. “The hotel’s turned into a nightmare.”

“It was always a nightmare,” you said, your lips curving into a knowing smile. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

Zoe tried to focus, reaching out with her magic to feel for a way out, a path that wasn’t sealed off by the hotel’s will. But every hallway, every exit, felt wrong, twisted. The hotel’s presence was everywhere, smothering and relentless. It was like trying to navigate through quicksand.

Cordelia’s mind raced. There had to be a way. She wasn’t about to let this place trap them forever. She glanced toward the faint light at the far end of the room, where the corridor led deeper into the hotel. It was risky, but it was the only option she could see. They had to move, and fast.

“Follow me,” she ordered, pulling Queenie to her feet.

But before they could take a step, the ground beneath them shifted violently, sending cracks spider-webbing across the floor. The walls groaned as if the hotel itself was coming to life, ready to swallow them whole.

James clapped his hands together, laughing with wild abandon. “Ah, darling, it’s glorious! The Cortez is truly showing its teeth tonight.”

You watched with a detached sort of amusement, but beneath it, there was a deeper understanding. The hotel’s power had always been great, but this was different. Cordelia’s defiance had stirred something ancient within the walls, something that even you and James could not fully control.

“I’d move quickly if I were you,” you said, your voice calm but edged with danger. “The Cortez has no patience for witches who think they can bend it to their will.”

Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice. She darted toward the hallway, her coven right behind her. The hotel groaned and shifted around them, the walls elongating and warping, but Cordelia kept her focus ahead, refusing to let the disorienting magic of the place deter her.

You and James watched as they fled, knowing full well the Cortez would not let them escape so easily. The hotel had a way of twisting time and space, trapping its victims in an endless loop of horror and madness.

“Do you think they’ll make it out?” James asked, his tone light, as if discussing the outcome of a dinner party.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing as you watched the witches disappear down the corridor. “Perhaps. But even if they do… they won’t leave unscathed.”

James chuckled, pulling you closer as he gazed into your eyes with that adoring madness only he could embody. “I do love when you’re right, my darling.”

You smiled, the dark energy of the hotel swirling around you. “And if they manage to survive, well, they’ll know that the Cortez leaves its mark on everyone who dares to challenge it.”

Cordelia and her coven ran, the hallway stretching impossibly long before them. The hotel was fighting them, twisting reality to keep them trapped. Every door they passed seemed to lead to another version of the same corridor, looping endlessly.

“We’re running in circles!” Madison shouted, her frustration spilling over.

“Keep moving,” Cordelia commanded, though she could feel the walls closing in, the magic warping around them.

Queenie stumbled, still weak from the spell that had held her, but Zoe caught her before she could fall. “We’re not leaving without you,” Zoe said firmly.

Cordelia tried to focus, tried to find a break in the hotel’s magic, a weak point they could use to escape. But the energy of the Cortez was overwhelming, seeping into her bones, clouding her mind. It was as if the hotel itself was alive, hunting them, savoring their fear.

But then, just when all seemed lost, Cordelia felt it—a faint flicker of light, a thread of energy that didn’t belong to the hotel. It was a small opening, a chance.

“There!” she shouted, pointing ahead.

The witches rushed forward, following Cordelia as she led them toward the faint glimmer of hope. The hotel groaned around them, resisting, but Cordelia pushed through, her magic flaring as she reached for the thread of energy. With a final burst of power, she tore open a rift in the fabric of the hotel’s magic.

A door appeared before them, glowing faintly with the light of the outside world.

“Go!” Cordelia ordered.

The witches didn’t hesitate. One by one, they stumbled through the door, back into the cold night air beyond the hotel’s cursed walls.

Cordelia was the last to pass through, her heart pounding in her chest as she cast one final glance back at the Cortez. The darkness inside seemed to ripple, as if the hotel was watching her, waiting.

As the heavy door of the Cortez sealed shut behind the fleeing witches, the hotel's energy hummed with satisfaction, like a predator content after a brief but thrilling hunt. The dark magic of the place settled back into its familiar rhythm-watchful, patient, knowing that no one ever really left the Cortez. Its halls would call them back, just as it had done countless times before.

You stood beside James, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer.

The witches had escaped for now, but their connection to the hotel remained, and that was enough. The thrill of the chase had rekindled something in you-a reminder of the power and control you wielded in this place, alongside James. It was intoxicating.

James, ever observant, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He turned toward you, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and admiration. "Ah, my darling," he purred, stepping closer to you.

"You were magnificent, as always. Watching you wield the hotel's magic like that, there's nothing quite as exquisite."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I could say the same for you, James. You do have a flair for theatrics." Your voice was laced with affection, though beneath it, there was something more, a simmering intensity that had been stirred by the night's events.

He chuckled softly, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace. His touch was familiar yet electric, a spark that always seemed to ignite whenever the two of you were close.

The twisted elegance of his presence, the madness in his eyes—it matched the darkness within you, and together, you were an unstoppable force. A perfect pair.

James leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and velvety. "The way you command this hotel, the way you ensnare those who dare challenge us... it makes me fall in love with you all over again."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head slightly, allowing your lips to graze his neck. "Oh, James,' you whispered, your voice a soft purr. "You know as well as I do that this place, this power-it belongs to the both of us. We rule together, and thats what makes it so powerful. It belongs to both of us. We rule together, and that's what makes it so... intoxicating."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was dark, intense, filled with the same hunger you felt coursing through you. "Indeed, my love. We are bound, not just by this hotel, but by something far deeper." His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheek as if memorizing every detail.

"You're mine, and I am yours. Forever."

There was something possessive, almost primal, in the way he said it-like a vow that transcended time and death. And in that moment, you felt the full weight of your bond, the dark and beautiful connection that tied you and James together in ways that few could understand. It was a love forged in blood, in madness, in power. It was both your strength and your obsession.

Your breath hitched as his words hung in the air between you, thick with meaning. You could feel the pulse of the hotel around you, as if it, too, recognized the depth of what you shared. Slowly, you leaned in, closing the space between you, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened into something far more intense.

James responded eagerly, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips were fervent, his kiss filled with the passion and madness that always simmered just beneath his polished surface.

The world around you seemed to blur, the only reality that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours, the way his hands roamed over your body with the same possessiveness that echoed in his words.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate. It was as though the two of you were trying to consume each other, to merge completely into one.

The intensity of your connection, your love, had always bordered on obsession, and tonight it felt even more heightened, charged by the dark energy of the hotel and the thrill of the night's events.

James broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips, his voice ragged with desire. "You drive me mad, my love.

Every time I look at you, every time I touch you... I burn for you."

You smiled against his mouth, your own desire mirroring his. "Then burn, James. Burn with me."

With a low growl of pleasure, he captured your lips again, the kiss deeper, more demanding. His hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting every nerve. You could feel the heat between you building, the air around you crackling with the raw intensity of your shared desire.

James lifted you effortlessly, and with a graceful spin, pressed you back against the nearest wall, his body pinning yours as he kissed you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His lips left yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as

he whispered your name like a prayer.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him on as your own need consumed you.

The world outside-the witches, the Cortez, everything-faded away, leaving only two of you, bound together in this intoxicating dance of passion and power.

James's mouth found yours again, and this time, the kiss was slow, deliberate, a contrast to the frenzied energy of moments before. It was a kiss filled with promise, with the dark love that had sustained you both for so long. The Cortez was your kingdom, but this. This was your sanctuary.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathless, your bodies humming with the shared intensity of the moment. His hand gently cradled your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "For now, for always. You are my queen, my everything."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the depths of his devotion, the madness and love that mirrored your own. "And I love you, James," you murmured, your voice soft but filled with the same intensity.

"We are eternal, you and I. Bound by blood, by power, by love. Forever."

His lips curved into that familiar, wicked smile, the one that always sent a thrill through you. "Forever, my love," he echoed, before capturing your lips once more in a kiss that sealed the vow between you-two souls bound together in darkness, for all eternity.

And as the Cortez hummed softly around you, it, too, seemed to recognize the power of the bond you shared. You and James were the heart of this place, the rulers of its twisted halls.

Later that night.

The sound of skin connecting with moans and loud huffs of breath is lost in the air, leaving nothing but the feeling of your pleasure in its absence as James fucks himself into your cunt.

Each time his cock pressed into you, slick dribbled out of your chubby cunt, staining the once clean sheets. He failed to put a towel under you like he usually does, too desperate to get inside you to care about something as silly as dirtied bed sheets.

Your legs were spread wide on the bed, each ankle hanging over the side of the bed. You rested your head on the pillow underneath you, arms resting under the cool side of the fabric.

He has no mercy, almost ruthless in the way he fucks you. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum at this point, and what’s funny is he hasn’t even came once, leaving you in a puddle of pleasure that seems to never end even when you start crying.

James's back was arched harshly downwards, legs over yours, keeping them flush to the bed. His hips started to move faster, the once quiet sounds becoming loud and sloppy. Heavy balls slapped into your folds, making you moan out in needy pleasure.

A soft hand went down to your cunt, thumbing your lips apart to rub at your throbbing clit. His forefinger moved in quick, small circles, pressing against it hard.

"Oh, darling, yeah, just like that, clench your pussy just like that, clench that little cunt nice and tight around your masters cock." James groaned in your ear darkly, sucking a deep purple hickey into your hairline. "Always so fucking good for your master hm? Just Ravishing, aren't you, Dear?"

Your hips bucked hard into his hand, making his cock slip further inside of your sloppy pussy. "James-Ma-Master! B-Big, s-s-so so big! Fuck, fuck, it's so good James please!" Your cunt throbbed around him like it had its own heartbeat, slick sliding down from your hole onto the exposed part of James's cock. "Need-Need you to fuck me-!" Your voice broke off into a high-pitched whine when James started thrusting again, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

James doesn't stop thrusting, even when you beg and moan to tell warn him that you're close. He wasn't going to stop until he had you shaking and crying out for mercy underneath him. His hands move from your shoulder blades to your waist, pulling them up to meet his hips. James started using you like a glorified fleshlight, hips meeting yours halfway every time he pushed back inside you harshly. Quiet grunts came from him, matching up with the slapping of his hips.

"Master, Master, Master, Master-! C-Can-Can't!"

"Aww, that's it, that's it, sweetheart. Cum all over your Master's cock. That's it, my good fucking girl." You clenched around him tightly, throbbing and pulsing as you gushed all over him. "That's it, there you go, cumming for your Master like a good little princess." James moaned in your ear, biting and tugging on it as you quivered. "What'ta slutty little girl, so needy for me."

The consistent clenching around his cock drove him to the edge, his face scrunching up when his orgasm finally hit him. Thick ropes of cum shot inside of you, forcing a sultry, drawn-out moan from your lips. He pushed his cock deep inside you, ensuring that all of his spunk stayed inside of you. "That's it, good girl, what'ta good girl. Keepin' all my cum nice'n warm for me." James pressed on your abdomen gently, smirking when a small amount of cum leaked out of your cunt.

"Aww, it's leaking out of you, Darling. Guess we're gonna have to go again to keep you filled."

[nobitchs-world]

Me after searching up “character name x black!reader” and it gives me some Harry Potter shit

[saintlucretia]

let's be real, he'd win manspreading olympics

[wh0re43van]

And they were roommates (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Description: You and Peter are long time best friends and now roommates. Things take a weird turn when he admits that he found your sex toy drawer.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving)

A/n: this is based off this request! I’m sorry if this isn’t up to your expectations, I’ve been having writers block. I’ve also been a bit inactive bc college rawdogging me without lube rn :/ (also I left this open to possibly a pt 2 with pegging Peter?? 🙊)

Peter sits on the edge of the couch clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, playing that mindless video game that he loves so much. His skilled fingers move in a blur across the plastic controller, the sound of the rapid clicks on the joy stick and buttons are drowned out by the blaring music coming out of the stereo. The music is so loud in fact, that the boy doesn’t hear you stumble into your shared home, dropping groceries and cursing at him as you stagger towards the table.

“Goddamnit Peter!” You groan after dropping off the bags of food, stomping into the living room as you dodge empty bottles of soda and dirty clothes on the floor. “Peter!” You gripe, now completely out of patience. But Peter is so fixed on the game and the music is so loud that he isn’t even aware of your arrival.

You let out an irritated sigh before ripping the cord to the stereo out of the wall. “Peter Maximoff!” You shout, crossing your hands over chest. He jumps a bit, startled by your sudden appearance, but soon enough his signature smirk is plastered on his stupid face.

“Hey babe! Where’ve you been?” He asks nonchalantly-choosing to ignore your obviously pissed off stature- as he shifts his attention back to the video game.

“Are you- oh my god,” you groan, completely exasperated as you pinch the bridge your nose. “I’ve been out for three hours getting shit for my party tonight. The one thing I asked you to do was clean up this mess!” You pace infront of the tv like a disappointed mother- a feeling you’ve become all too familiar with since renting an apartment with your man-child of a best friend.

“I don’t think four girls in their 20s getting wine drunk and talking shit for hours on end counts as a party,” Peter snickers before he zooms around you, now between you and the television with his nose nearly pressed to the screen in attempt to finish his game. Your blood is boiling at at this point.

“Beats locking yourself in your room and playing with your dick to those old VHS tapes you still have from high school,” you roll your eyes. “Atleast get with the times and use the internet,” you add with your lips pulled taught in an unamused line, you reach down to unplug the console. Peter of course grabs your hand before you reach the plug, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“And abandon my girls? Come on babe, don’t be ridiculous. We have history!” Peter snickers, unfazed by your attempt to humble and embarrass him.

Peter finally beats the level, sounding off the victory music. With a proud smile, he sits down the controller, finally giving you his attention. “Plus, don’t act like I don’t know about your drawer of toys. Neither one of us are getting laid,” Peter laughs casually as he walks back over to the couch, leaving you with wide eyes and blushed cheeks.

“What the fuck! H-how-Peter! Dude! What-what the actual fuck!” You look at him dumbfounded, now twice as furious and extremely embarrassed.

“Oh, so you can go through my stuff, but I can’t go through yours?” He smirks as he takes a swig of soda out of a two liter bottle, looking at you with pure amusement on his face.

“I-I don’t go through your stuff, Peter!” You shriek, looking down at your feet in attempt to escape his gaze. When you do, you notice a bright orange plastic rectangle on the ground amidst various snack cake wrappers. “Th-there’s a tape literally laying right here!” You chuck the VHS at him, he catches it, sitting it on the couch beside him.

“Alright you’ve got me,” Peter holds his hands up in defense with playful grin. “But you can’t blame me for snooping. You don’t exactly make an effort to keep quiet. Our rooms are right across from each other ya know,” he chuckles as he settles into the couch, wiping his Cheeto covered fingers on his grey sweatpants. “So yeah, maybe I was curious to see the loud ass vibrator that you abuse most nights of the week, and maybe I found a lot more than I was looking for,” Peter laughs at how red your face is. He’s clearly enjoying your utter humiliation.

You feel mortified. You can’t believe he would just reveal that he knows you about your dirty habits so casually. Had he seen everything?

‘Why would I keep everything on the same place,’ you internally facepalm as you imagine Peter digging through your underwear draw to see your Hitachi, the vibrating dildo, the strap.

‘Jesus Christ does he know I have a strap on?’ Panic begins to set it. ‘How long has he known about this?’ Your mind is racing almost as fast as your heart.

You swear you’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. Despite the snow on the ground outside, you feel like your skin is on fire. You’re a clammy, stuttering mess that wants nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but you can’t even will yourself to move.

“Y-you can hear it?” Is all you dare to ask sheepishly, your eyes still wide in horror at the conversation that’s unfolding between you and your best friend.

“Mhm,” Peter snickers as he stands up, nonchalantly stretching and flexing all the muscles in his bare torso. You think for a moment that he might be flexing on purpose as he walks over to inspect the groceries you’ve brought home. “And I Gotta say,” Peter hums as he pops open the new box of twinkies you got for your party. “I’m really not impressed with the settings on that thing,” he says through a mouth full of yellow sponge cake.

You don’t know what to think of the situation. You wrack your brain trying to figure out what he’s playing at, but to no avail. He seems to be amused more than anything; at the very least he doesn’t think any less of you.

You sigh, walking over to the boy, prying the blue hostess box out of his hands. “T-these are for tonight, Peter,” you make a meek attempt of scolding him, but you can’t even look him in the eyes right now as you trip over your words. This only fuels Peters teasing.

“I’m serious babe,” he grins as he slowly rests his hands on either side of you. His bare biceps and chest tense as he grips onto the table, trapping you right in front of him. “I can show ya real speed if you’d let me,” his voice is low and silky smooth as he lets out a small laugh. You blink at him, not sure if you’re understanding him right.

“I-uh…well… if-I uhm-” Your voice is shaky as you stare up at him with wide eyes. At this point you’re sure that your face is as red as those cherry slushies that Peter always gets from the corner store.

“Am I making you nervous?” Peter asks as he leans ever so slightly closer to you. His sultry tone sends heat straight to your core.

“N-no,” you whimper. As if your tone didn’t give you away, you instinctively pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says lightly as puts a gentle hand on your face, his thumb pulls your lip out from under your teeth. “This always gives it away,” Peter hums.

You feel ridiculous at how worked up Peter has managed to get you. You chalk it up to being dick deprived and attempt to pull yourself together before you literally start drooling. But before you speak, Peters next words make your mind go blank.

“These pretty lips of yours are always getting you in trouble, huh?” Peters voice is husky as he drags you lip down with his thumb, focusing on your mouth with a lust laced gaze.

He’s right. Your entire time growing up together your nervous habit of chewing on your lip has always gotten you caught in your lies. It’s a little weird to think about all the adolescent trouble you and Peter got into as he’s standing only inches away from you; very obviously not that little boy anymore. No, Peter is definitely a man now- his mind may not have matured past 15, but his body absolutely has.

He brings his other hand to the back of your head as he steps closer to you. You can feel his warm breath fanning on your face, as your knees begin to go weak.

“Okay Peter that’s enough teasing. You got me. j-just clean up your mess so I can get ready for my party,” you say quietly as you examine his face, taking in how truly handsome your best friend is.

“Oh come on, we have time,” he smiles. That seductive tone is one you never thought you’d hear from Peter, and it’s definitely going to get you in trouble.

Peter dips his head down, his nose brushing against yours, making your breath hitch. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the small contact. He teases his lips over yours, gently ghosting over the skin as if testing the waters.

The moment your lips touch, you’re a goner. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into an intense kiss. Peter laughs into the exchange as he grabs onto your hips.

You never thought of Peter in this way in all the years that you’ve known him. Sure, he’s an objectively attractive guy- anyone can see that- but he’s just never really been ‘your type’ and aside from casual flirting like he does with every woman he comes into contact with, he never showed any romantic interest in you- as far as you were aware at least. But right now, you’re completely desperate for your best friend.

The kiss quickly becomes anything from innocent as Peter grabs your ass, sitting you up on the table so he can stand between your legs. Your hands run through his hair, tugging on the silver stands as his grips onto your lower back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

Reality sets in as his lips trail down your neck where he stops to nip at sensitive skin. As you catch your breath you stutter, “W-what are we doing Peter? Are we really gonna risk our friendship just because neither of us have gotten laid in a while?”

While you are concerned for your platonic dynamic, you just can’t bring yourself to push him away. His warm lips on your skin and his strong grip on your body is too intoxicating.

“We aren’t risking anything, dude,” Peter smiles into the crook of your neck as his hands run up your thighs, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your short dress. “Just two friends helping eachother out. Nothing wrong with that,” he hums. You’re silent for a moment, considering his words.

Peter Steps aways from you, leaving you to whimper at the lack of contact.

“But if you don’t want this, I understand. I won’t press-“ he begins with a small grin as he continues to slowly back away. Without thinking, your hand shoots out, almost causing you to fall off the table. You grip his arm as you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please Peter,” is all you have to say before he’s back on you. Smashing his kiss bruised lips to yours.

Unbeknownst to you, Peter has been waiting for this moment for awhile. He wasn’t ‘totally in love with his best friend’ but you are the one person who knows him better than anything and his domestic partner and you’re smokin hot and he hears you masturbate in the room beside him a couple times a week- not to mention he hasn’t been with a woman in months. I mean, can you blame the guy?

You let out a small gasp as peters fingers brush against your clothed core. He gives you mischievous grin as he pulls you to the very edge of the table.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he breaths as he slowly wraps his fingers around the waist band of your silk underwear. With in half a second, the thin fabric is gone- where to? You have no idea.- and Peter is on his knees below you, admiring your exposed core. “You must really be desperate. Damn,” the boy chuckles as he collects some of your wetness on his finger. You groan, kicking him in the arm gently. But you can’t argue with him.

“Ugh Peter if you’re going to-“ before you can finish whining, Peter has his arms wrapped around your thighs and mouth attached to your swollen clit, licking like his life depends on it. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intense stimulation.

“At least now I know how to shut you up,” Peter chuckles against your core. Caught up in your own pleasure, you grab his hair and grind into his face. Peter let’s out a hum of satisfaction before he slips a finger in your entrance.

“Fuck,” you groan, throwing your head back. Peter is having the time of his life, struggling not to cum in his pants from how erotic you are. I mean yeah, he knew you were hot but he never would have guessed just how sexy your moans are or how good you taste. Call him a munch, but Peter could suffocate right here between your legs and die a happy man.

“Just like that Peter. Please don’t stop,” you pant out lowly, moving your hips faster against his face. You look down to see Peter who is already staring up at you. His silver strands of hair tickle the inside of your thighs as he laps at your clit desperately. The image of your best fiends head between your legs triggers a flash of embarrassment and guilt, but that’s soon forgotten as soon as you feel it.

Peter begins to vibrate his tongue as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curling directly into your g-spot with every thrust.

“Peter!” You shriek, pulling his hair. The sensation is nothing like you’ve felt before. You quickly melt into his touch as you revel in the pure pleasure shooting through every nerve in your body.

Peter replaces his tongue with his thumb before breathlessly pulling you into a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs beginning to shake from how much pleasure is flooding you system.

“I want you to cum for me,” Peter growls against your lips. You whine into the kiss as you clench around his fingers. The tightly wound rubber band in your stomach finally snaps, releasing intense euphoria through your body. “That’s it. Good girl, fuck, just like that,” Peter coos into your ear as the unholiest string of profanities he’s ever heard falls from your kiss bruised lips. You collapse into his chest, your legs shaking, head spinning, chest heaving.

“You okay?” Peter chuckles as he rests a hand on your back. You simply nod your head, trying to catch your breath. After a minute or so of recovery, you open your mouth to speak but are quickly interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. You jump up from the table, looking at Peter in horror as your release drips down your legs.

“My friends,” you gasp. Peter chuckles as he gently stands you to your feet.

“We’re not done here,” your best friend winks before he’s gone with a fwip.

In a Silver Blur, Peter zooms around the apartment. Within five seconds, the living room is spotless, the groceries are put away, and there are four glasses of wine are poured and set at the table with an organized array of the snacks you’d bought.

“Come on in ladies, y/n is in the kitchen,” Peter answers the door, allowing your friends into your home.

“Ew, why is your face wet?” One of the girls ask Peter as they turn the corner into the kitchen.

“And where’s your shirt?” Another girl asks as they exchange confused glances with each other.

“Oh-“ Well I guess Peter forget a couple crucial pieces of evidence. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “What’s with the interrogation girls?” Peter chuckles as he holds his hands up.

Your face goes red in embarrassment as you walk over to great your group of friends on shaky legs- and with a bare core since you couldn’t seem to find your panties anywhere.

“Sorry, ignore him. Peters just leaving,” You smile at your friends then give peter a death glare.

“Oh, y/n, let me know once your little party is over. We need to finish that conversation,” he winks as he picks up a snack cake off the bar. As he ascends up the steps, you see your purple panties hanging out the pocket of his grey sweatpants. You send a silent prayer to every all-powerful incorporeal being you can think of that your friends did not see Peter with your underwear.

“Y/n, are you okay? What’s with-“ one of your friends begin to question.

“Wine!?” You cut her off as you offer-more or less force her to take- a glass of Pinot Grigio which thankfully is enough to shift the conversation.

You’re left in anticipation the rest of the night, half temped kick the girls out just so you and Peter can finish what you’ve started, but you decide against it. As you go commando for the next four hours, you think about how you’re going to get peter back.

[marchsfreakshow]

American Horror Story Masterlist

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tate Langdon:

The Locket With A Masquerade

Sad Goodbyes

The Original Nirvana

The Small Things

Kit Walker:

Quiet Boy 18+

Wounds And All

Lost In A Maze

Sweet Treats And Gentlemen

Kyle Spencer:

Words Are Overrated

Stubbornness

Reading This And That

Innocent Touch

Painting Rain

Jimmy Darling

Red Is My Favourite Colour

Sculpting Something More

It's A Sin

Watermelon Ice Cream 18+

James Patrick March

Memories Fading

Poems - 1 2 3 4 5 6

Dangerously Yours

My Sweet Girl 18+

Two Sweet Teeth

Inconsistencies (Part 2)

Clair De Lune

Stay In My Arms

That 80's Song

Heartache In Him

Nightshade

The Stage Is Yours

Opium And Monique Gibeau

Dreary Dreams In A Window

Nicknames And Praise 18+

Loving The Same

Why So Lonely Solitaire?

Need Me More 18+

Bloodthirsty And Lustful 18+

Having Their Fill [ft. The Countess]

Comforting A Murder 18+

Desperate Pain 18+

A Little Piece Of Heaven

Blood And Organs, For You

Familiarities Upon Death

False Protection

Kai Anderson

Obsession Over Control 18+

Marionette

His Stalker 18+

Theatrics 18+

A Drug For His Heart

Withdrawals And Heartache

Dandy Mott

Never Leave

Seriously, Don't Cry

Can I Sew Into Your Heart?

Princesses Over Princes

Oh The Sleeping Beauty 18+

Loving The Fool

Such A Crybaby! [Seperate M.list]

You Over Her!

Scared And Red

Violet Harmon

Halloween Exploration

[bluerthanvelvet444]

‧₊˚♫ ⋅* ‧₊✮𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✮‧₊˚ ⋅*♫ ˚₊⋅

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: smut with a plot and some fluff.

warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of a switch!Tate, oral (f receiving), dry humping, p in v.

summary: Tate encounters a Tumblr girl. (Inspirated a lot by the song I linked under.)

character count: 12k.

full fic under the cut ↓

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2014.

Tate had never really cared about looking ‘stylish’ or ‘fitting in’ when he was alive. He had his own style, which wasn’t trendy nor one of a kind just…his. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to believe he was cool, mostly because the girls that were attracted to him were just as fucked up as him and the popular ones tended to ignore him.

Ironical how that changed in his afterlife, once he saw you. After dying, Tate’s time was spent either with the other trapped souls or by himself. Hardly ever people moved in the Murder House, and whether they did, they were a low-budget couple in their 40s. So Tate’s knowledge of the modern outside world was poor and lacking, especially when it came to his ‘peers’. That’s why when you first moved in the house, Tate was stunned, if not flabbergasted even.

You were struggling with carrying your heavy luggage, muttering curses as the wind blew your colorful hair in your eyes. The first word that came in Tate’s mind as he watched you from the front window was “cool.”

He spent the first days of your sojourn watching you from afar, admiring the way you acted. Tate found out the way you styled your outfits in the fashionable way, how you talked to your friends in slangs and how you spent your evenings taking pictures on your polaroid and on a glowing little box, that for some strange reason you called phone, to post (that’s the term you used) on a little blue icon marked with a white t. He didn’t know what was considered popular now, but he was sure you belonged in that category, judging by the way you looked and the way your pictures had high numbers under them whenever you uploaded them. He needed wanted to approach you, and the perfect opportunity showed up when he saw you type on your glowing box:

“PARTY in the MURDER HOUSE tonite!! >_< :33!!”

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The house had never been so full of alive people having fun. The doors were open, colorful lights were shining and high volume music was blasting. Tate tried blending in, although the more he looked around the more he felt…lame. The drunk teens around him were all different from each other, and none of them matched his vibe. And he even wore his favorite sweater!

Still, he had nothing to lose, so he took a deep breath and searched for you in the crowd. Tate made his way past people as they pushed him to the left and to the right. It felt weird to be seen, to be touched. He found you circled by people asking questions about the house. Was it haunted? Were there ghosts? All of which you answered with a simple “No.”.

“Of course there aren’t any ghosts, I’m keeping them away from you.” Tate thought. Since he was too nervous to actually take a few steps and start a conversation with you, he figured he’d get some punch, just to loosen up a bit. He walked towards the punch bowl, and as soon as he reached to grab a cup, his hand met yours. You both grabbed the same solo cup.

“Sorry! You can have it.” You giggled as you let him take the cup. Tate blinked a few times, eyes locked to your bright smile, before grabbing the cup and filling it up. “Be cool, Tate. Don’t mess it up.” He thought.

“Uh. So…this is your party, right?” He gulped, eyes darting around the house as if he didn’t know every single inch of it by heart.

“Yes! Thought it would’ve been fun to host a party in a so-called Murder House. Plus, this house is giant, it gets lonely after some time…You live near here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” You smiled.

“Oh…yeah. My name’s Tate. I live nearby.” Tate’s eyes trailed upon your figure, he had never been able to see you from so close. You simply nodded, sipping from your cup. He cleared his throat.

“You know…I used to live in this house.” He added nonchalantly, trying so hard to sound interesting.

“Really?! No way!” Your giggles rang in his ears.

“Mhm. You probably noticed some of my things still laying around in my bedroom. No one has stepped in since I last did.” He nodded.

“Oh, do you wanna see? Maybe there’s something you left that you want back.” You replied, slightly raising your voice so that it could be heard over the music.

“I uh-There’s no need t-” He was interrupted by you grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs anyways. You opened the door of the bedroom and kicked out a couple that was making out on your bed.

“Ugh!! I should’ve locked the door!” You exclaimed, closing the door behind you two. Tate looked around, some of your things were laying around, but it was mostly all his.

“Dude you left everything here!” You giggled. Tate forced out a chuckle, everything was of course still there, since he ‘lived’ there normally and never moved.

“Yeah, uh…Guess I left in a hurry.” He muttered awkwardly and grabbed some of his Nirvana CDs.

“There they were…!” He pretended as if he didn’t just play them everyday before you came.

“CDs? Didn’t you use an IPod or something?” You gave him a confused look.

“Oh uh…no, I prefer CDs.” He nodded, as if he knew what an IPod was.

“You don’t use your phone?” You asked, raising up your glowing box.

“No, I…don’t have one.” He gulped.

“Damn, how do you handle that? I could never live without Tumblr or Instagram.” You chuckled.

“...Yea, um…just not my thing, y’know?” He cleared his throat, trying his best to change the subject.

“Oh, yea. I’ve met some people like that. I envy y’all, y’know? Tumblr’s literally addicting to me. Can’t help it though, love when people comment nice stuff and see you as inspiring, y’know?” You chuckled, sitting down on his your bed.

“Uh…can’t really relate. I’ve always been pretty invisible.” He shrugged.

“Oh…you don’t seem so bad. I like the whole grungy vibe.” You grinned, pointing to his outfit.

“Oh- uh…thank you.” He hoped it was a good thing to be ‘grungy’...or whatever you said.

“Yea, looks good on you. Doesn’t really fit me tho.” You giggled.

“You’d look gorgeous in anything.” Was what Tate wanted to say, but he didn’t wanna push his luck too far, so he just forced a shy chuckle.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

You spent something like 30 minutes just laughing and getting to know each other while laying on the bed. During this whole time, he couldn’t help but think about how breathtaking you were: your smile, your eyes, your body, your personality, your whole being. You were perfect. Perfect for him. He found himself to be completely mesmerized by you, he needed you to be his, he needed you to make him feel loved, alive. He wondered how you did it, how ever since the first second you spent next to him, his heart started beating for the first time since he died. His body felt warm, his skin didn’t feel so cold anymore, he started breathing again. He was addicted to this feeling, so he did the only reasonable thing he would’ve done if he was actually alive, he gently grabbed your cheek and pressed his lips against yours. Everything felt just better after he kissed you, as if after that whole hell he had been through he finally reached paradise. He felt even more surprised when you kissed back, your lips moving in sync with his. He moved to lay on top of you, balancing his weight so he didn’t crush you, his lips never leaving yours as his fingertips danced across your body. His tongue slipped in your mouth, swirling around yours in a passionate dance. He let out some deep throaty groans, he felt his desire grow as it coursed through his veins. He needed to feel you, so he deepened his kisses. When you moved your lips down on his jaw and then his neck, he almost lost it. He felt embarrassed for moaning so much and basically becoming a mess under your touch, but he relaxed as soon as he felt your lips curling up in a smile against his skin. He moved on to devour your neck, grinning as he felt you moan now. His hands gripped every inch of your body.

“You’re so…beautiful…” He mumbled against your skin, grabbing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He looked up at you while tugging at your shirt, silently asking for consent to peel it off of you.

“You can take off whatever you want...” You winked, giving him a cute smile. He immediately peeled off both his and your clothes, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips worked hungrily on your collarbone, leaving marks that will most likely turn into hickeys the next day, then placed kisses on the valley between your breasts, a tiny whine leaving him when his fingers failed at desperately trying to undo the clasp of your bra.

You giggled and helped him, throwing your bra somewhere on the floor. He immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently while looking up at you with those brown puppy eyes of his. You smiled and twirled a strand of his blonde locks between your fingers, soft moans escaping your lips. He kept switching between sucking your left then right nipple, his hand groping the one he wasn’t attacking with his mouth. He felt himself getting harder as he felt the warmth radiating from your body, so while his mouth worked wonders, he desperately brushed his growing bulge from under his boxers on your leg. He let out some needy whines, and he couldn’t help but mutter sweet words against your skin as he lowered down to trail kisses on your tummy.

“So perfect f’me…” His words came out muffled as he trailed his kisses down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and then on the fabric of your panties. You moaned when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down, as his lips immediately worked on your clit.

“Ah…just like that Tate…don’t stop…” You moaned when he started to suckle gently, soft whines leaving his mouth as well. As he got more needy himself, his mouth lowered on your entrance, his tongue gently brushing against your wet folds, finally entering you after teasing you a slight bit. What you felt was pure bliss, unholy sounds leaving your lips every time his tongue sped up. When you looked down, you found Tate looking up at you with those brown doe eyes from between your legs, as he worked his magic. The sight only drove you to the edge, your moans getting louder as you came on his face. He groaned and cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure not to miss any single droplet of your cum.

“So good…you taste so fucking good…” He moaned into your ear, pressing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“Wanna be inside of you…please? please let me…” He whined while rubbing his hard dick against your flesh. You nodded and just like that he didn't waste any more time, he abruptly pulled his boxer down, groaning as the cold air hit his shaft, and lined up with your entrance. While you were still coming down from your high after the intense orgasm, Tate pushed his dick inside of you slowly, moaning uncontrollably once he felt your tight walls clenching around him. You were relieved that this encounter happened when you threw a party, or every single soul nearby would’ve heard the throaty groans and moans leaving his lips.

“Mh…tight…so tight…so pretty-can I move please? I’ll be- ah…I’ll be careful-please-” He whined against your neck, as his blonde strands caressed your face gently. You agreed, and just like that he was thrusting in and out of you, first slowly, then at a steady pace. The room was filled with filthy moans, yours and his, and the repetitive sound of skin against skin, as your sweaty bodies were sliding one against each other. He felt like he was going insane as his mind couldn't help but focus on you and you only. Every moment was more pleasurable and he felt like he was closer and closer, so he muttered in your ear, still thrusting into you.

“Close…so close…don’t think i’m gonna last-ah…longer…please please please…want you to cum too…” He babbled as his brain turned into mush.

“Ah-! Mhm…m’close too…” You breathed out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even more.

“Please-mh…cum on my dick? yeah? wanna feel you..please…” He whimpered, he felt like he couldn’t contain his upcoming orgasm. You couldn’t even respond as the repetitive brushing of his tip against your G-spot drove you to the edge. Letting out a loud moan, you came for the second time while he was still inside of you. That caused Tate’s eyes to roll back, his groans only filling the room as the feeling of your cum dripping on his length and your walls squeezing it, was too much to bear. He quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach, then he collapsed next to you.

He spent the next moments cuddling up against you, thinking about everything. His hands were playing with your hair, and when he looked down he found your eyes closed and your breath steady. He smiled at the sight, wanting every night of his afterlife to end like this and determined to make that happen. He kept placing sweet kisses on the top of your head, while he wondered how he was gonna explain to you that he died before Tumblr even existed.

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taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @doll3tt33 @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @dykejugheadjones @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny

a/n: rahhhh tate's such a loser needy boy. BTW spent sm time on this fic, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out!! hope you like it! this is for my tumblr girlies🩷

all rights reserved!!