#the bad music and worse costume

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 19

Kinktober Masterlist aegri somnia - “troubled dreams” TF141 x f!reader Kinks > sex-pollen, gangbang, semipublic, corruption Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

You’re at a costume party on Halloween night on base with your team. The whole gang is there, and they sample something …strange… from the bar. The only cure for their fever? You.

Warning: drugged sex, dubcon, sex-pollen style scene, anal, vaginal, face fucking, some ghoap.

You were a kitty cat. Past tense. Now, you looked like a chimney sweep. This Halloween party had gotten way out of hand. The heating was cranked up to ninth-circle-of-Hell temperatures, and everyone was dancing, sweating, and getting completely fucking sloshed. 

Your whiskers and nose had long been rubbed away, and you’d lost the cat ears somewhere between the upstairs toilet and the sandpit volleyball game that the boys had set up in the basement. Two months of deadtime in the Urzikstani Green Zone had been great for morale but shit for discipline. Price was gonna be so pissed when he saw how Soap had painted the TAC-V like a big pumpkin. 

“You alright, love?” Gaz slurred, stumbling a bit before resting his arm around your shoulder, half-in and half-out of his own Paddington Bear getup. He still had the red hat, but the blue jacket was tied around his waist, and the matching shorts looked like little more than boxer briefs. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Parched. What’s that?” You pointed to his hand, jealous that he had a cold beverage. 

“Mm,” he took a sip and handed you the cup, “I dunno. Soap was passin’ it around. Orange, mysterious, probably lethal.”

“I’ll take my chances,” you laughed, downing the last sip.

“Speak of the devil…” Gaz nodded over to the makeshift bar.

There, on top of two stacks of crates, stood Soap, pouring his orange concoction right into Simon Riley’s open mouth. Soap was dressed in a little red devil outfit, complete with pitchfork, and Ghost was… well, he was just himself. The skeleton mask did the trick, you supposed. 

You shook your head, laughing at them, and Soap looked up to see you there. 

“Oy! C’mere, bonnie. Got somethin’ special for ya.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you grumbled, walking over to the bar with Gaz in tow.

Soap was crouched over in his tight red onesie, digging through an ice chest. He emerged with a wide, mischievous smile on his face and a bottle of eerie, murky liquid.

“Pinched this from Ale and Rudy when they were in last night. Probably that killer tequila he’s been on about. Didnae wanna try it by meself.”

He started to pour out four cups, and you turned your nose up at it,

“Oh, Jesus, Johnny. This smells like piss.”

“Quit your whingin’, lass. You’ve had worse things in your mouth,” he winked, downing his shot and wearing a twisted face of immediate regret.

“Suppose that’s right,” you shrugged, drinking down your own. 

It rushed through you like burning fire, and it made you feel like you’d been punched right in the jaw. 

“Holy fuck,” Simon coughed, “The hell is this, Johnny? Fuckin’ petrol?”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Gaz complained, trying to breathe slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

“Ach! C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Johnny protested, going back for a second dose.

Suddenly, a husky voice came out of the darkness behind the crates, 

“What’s all this then?”

“Oh, hey, Cap’n,” Johnny tried to look normal. He failed, but at least he tried.

Price rolled his eyes, but he held out his cup and held it out to the sergeant,

“Go on, then. Give us a taste.”

You watched as Price took two big gulps, your own stomach turning from the memory, and gaped in amazement as he mostly controlled his expression. Show off.

You were already sweaty, but this tequila made you feel like you were going to burn right up. You wanted to move. The music was deafening, and even though you didn’t know this song, you begged Gaz for a dance. 

“C’mon! Just one.”

“Alright, love. But, you know I can never have just one,” he twirled you around, making you feel even drunker than you were, and led you out into the warehouse where Ghost had rigged his huge boombox to make a dance floor.

Everyone was dancing. Time was moving at an insane rate. Fast and slow, dilating in and out, and you were like a shadow, letting it pass right through you, drunk and high and everything in between. 

Soap and Ghost joined you, and Price watched on from the edge, smoking and looking a little red around his eyes. 

Suddenly, Gaz’s hands were on your hips, pulling you back into him, grinding you against his crotch.

“Hey,” you turned over your shoulder, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’, babes. Just dancin’. That alright?”

You nodded, smiling up at him, 

“Yeah, I guess so. Feels like this tequila went right to my head.”

“This fat arse is goin’ right to mine,” he said, staring down at your butt, squeezing it roughly.

You felt his cock through his shorts as he danced with you, rubbing himself against your leotard and fishnet combination, chasing his own high. 

Soap joined you, dancing in front of you, lacing his legs between yours, dancing even closer to you than Gaz. He looped one arm around your neck, and he threaded the other around your waist, moving his hips in time with the beat, drinking another cupful of tequila when he got the chance. 

Ghost was behind him, and he began peeling off the lycra onesie, revealing Soap’s broad chest to you, rubbing him down with his hands, playing with his nipples in front of the entire base.

Had you been in your right mind, you would’ve balked at such behavior. But, for some reason, it felt right. You wanted to touch him, too. So, you did. 

You reached out in front of you and ran your hands down his belly, lowering the zipper even further, feeling his heated skin.

“Mmf-fuck,” Ghost moaned, “Tha’s hot.”

Soap seemed to agree, his arching erection obvious through the thin, red outfit. 

Gaz’s hands moved from your ass to your tits, squeezing them as he pulled your body against him, thrusting himself against you to the rhythm of the drum and bass, letting you feel his incredible length across your backside. 

“Look at these, mate,” Gaz cooed in your ear, talking to the other boys, massaging your breasts and pulling at the fabric of your leotard until it almost let your heavy tits fall out. 

“Gaz… what’s…” You tried to clear your mind, “What’s gotten into you lads?”

Your lieutenant leaned forward across Soap’s shoulder and kissed you through his balaclava, moving his mouth into yours, letting you feel the outline of his full lips. You tried to kiss him back, using your hands to flip up the edge of his mask, finding his chin and cheek, moving over so you could taste him properly. 

He was full of that dark tequila, and a hint of his menthols, musky and manly in the most enticing way. When he pulled away, he went immediately to Soap’s neck, sucking on his flesh and making him moan aloud in the middle of the dance floor. 

Suddenly, a large, strong hand gripped your face and turned you towards him, kissing you full on the mouth. His beard and mustache were the only giveaways that it was your captain, feeding you his tongue and choking you with it greedily. 

What was happening? This was insane. Something was wrong. What was in that drink?

“Cap,” you whispered when he allowed you space for a breath, “What’s happening?”

“Need you, love. Need you right fuckin’ now.”

Gaz’s hands reached into your leotard, around your cotton cat tail, and tugged at the gusset. The button snaps popped, revealing your ass, covered only in fishnets. He dug his fingers into the large holes of the fishnet leggings and pulled, ripping them apart, making room for his fingers to sink themselves into your dripping hole. 

You fell forward, grabbing onto Johnny’s shoulders, loving the way Gaz’s hand felt as he moved it inside of you, each finger was like its own challenge, delving into you and reaching for your soft spots.

“Fuck, she’s wet,” Gaz revealed, and you felt your cheeks warm with shame.

Soap smiled down at you, reaching between your legs on his own accord,

“Oh? Is that so, bonnie girl?”

He touched you right beside Gaz, both of their hands vying for position, sometimes shoving their fingers into you at the same time As Gaz would pull away, Soap would bully his knuckles forward, swiping up into you like a greedy thief, reaching for more of your silky wetness. Then, Gaz would return, playing at your clit and then feeding two of his fingers inside of you again, stretching you to make room for both his and Johnny’s eager hands, not caring who was there first or whether or not you were enjoying yourself. 

You were enjoying yourself. But, that was beside the point. Weren’t you at a party? What were you doing before this? There were other people around, right?

But, they suddenly didn’t matter. Price tugged down your shoulder strap to reveal your breast. He marveled at the puffy nipple, pebbled and waiting for his mouth. He bent and began to suckle from you, feeding his other hand across your chest, groping you under the fabric of your outfit as he pulled you into his mouth.

Johnny’s ragged moan cut through the fog of your pleasure, and you looked up at him. He was nearly naked, his devil horns the only thing left from the waist up, and Ghost was kneeling behind him, his mask pushed up, eating his sergeant’s asshole and spreading his cheeks apart cruelly. 

You reached down to feel Soap’s cock, and it was leaking through the fabric, barely concealed anymore by the costume. You pulled him free, jerking him off, smearing his glossy precome all over his pulsing, pink head. 

Price grew tired of your clothing, and he began to rip your costume away from you. Gaz helped him, pulling and tugging and tearing at the fabric. You were left in your fishnets and heels, stumbling between the men surrounding you, feeling the tequila worm its way into your core, stirring your body and making you yearn to be fucked by their heavy pricks. 

Gaz was the first to press himself into you. You were shoved forward, your face smashed into Johnny’s furry belly, his sweat painting your cheek, and Gaz held you in place. He gripped your hips with a painful clutch of his hands, and he swiped his dick through your lips, back and forth, coating himself in your wet warmth. Then, that familiar, aching stretch, and he was inside of you, humping his cock into you deeper and deeper, filling the empty space within your core. 

“Holy fuck,” Price purred, grabbing you by your hair at the nape of your neck.

He pulled you toward him, his fat prick in his hands, and fed himself into your mouth, shoving your head down onto his shaft, choking you with his girth. 

Soap pulled you from him, giving you the same treatment, and you could taste the salty precome that he was leaking with, using the momentum of Gaz fucking you to find a rhythm with your mouth. 

They took turns using you, moving you back and forth, fucking your throat until it burned, pushing you further and further down until your nose was buried in their dense curls, tickling you with the matted fur at the root of their cocks. All you could do was swallow and try to breathe, but it was little use. You were drooling all over them, unable to control your body and its desperate attempt to prepare you for their huge pricks. 

Gaz had ripped an orgasm from you twice, making you scream around the base of Price’s cock, shoving his thumb into your twitching, tight asshole as his cock ruined your pussy. He was well and truly gone, at this point. His grunting was like that of a beast, and you could feel the sweat dripping off of him and onto your back. 

Ghost grew tired of tasting Johnny’s asshole, and now he was fucking him in shallow, huffing thrusts. Every time he would push himself further into his hole, Johnny would leak a little more, his come running down his shaft like sap from a huge trunk, sticky and sweet and endless. 

You were in the middle of tasting Johnny’s dripping head when you felt Gaz bottom out inside of you. Then, he shouted out a long, whining, rumble as he pumped you full of his come. You felt it spilling out of him, pouring into your cunt, spraying rope after rope of his seed into your walls, soaking your hole, desperate to seep into your womb.

Price all but shouldered Gaz out of the way, manhandling your body until you were wrapped in his arms, your legs slung over each giant bicep, and you were being lowered onto his impossible phallus. 

“I… I can’t…” You protested, unsure of whether or not you would survive whatever your captain had to give you.

“You will,” he purred darkly, his voice demonic in its timbre, “Oh, baby, you will.”

He slipped his head into your hole, but that was all that slipped. Everything else was an uphill battle. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to take some of the weight off of your core, but it was no use, he was using his heavy hands to pull you down onto him, squeezing himself inside inch by agonizing inch. You said a prayer of thanks to whatever sick gods were watching your debasement that he was not as long as Kyle.

You hissed in a breath when he reached a new level of thickness that your body had never experienced before.

“Shh, shh,” he cooed in your ear, “Be a good girl, love. Relax for me.”

His hands readjusted, moving lower to pull your cheeks apart, and he used his middle finger to dip into your asshole, playing in Gaz’s dripping come, swirling it around the puckered rim, teasing you by prodding you with shallow thrusts of his finger.

It was enough to distract you from what he was doing to your poor pussy, and he shoved himself in to the base, shocking you enough that your blood ran cold. You held your breath, unable to even cry out. It was as if you were a machine that had been unplugged. You were gone. Your captain had fucked your mind right out of your head. 

“That’s it. There she is,” he smiled sinisterly, pumping himself in and out, using your own weight to fuck you on his heavy rod. 

Two, greedy hands reached around to grope your breasts, grabbing them roughly, pinching your nipples until you whimpered and squirmed. Johnny was behind you, being fucked hard by Ghost, teasing your heavy breasts and rubbing his cock against your ass. 

Price’s hands were in the way, but when he felt Johnny’s cock, he positioned you so that his sergeant could reach. Then, you felt Johnny’s slick cockhead writhe its way inside the very brink of your asshole. He was so close to coming, it didn’t take much depth to take him there. As Simon fucked him, he thrust himself up into you, stretching your hole, unable to fit inside as deep as he would’ve liked with Price in the way. There was just no room. 

Johnny came in you messily and with total abandon. He bit down on your shoulder, keening and groaning, spending himself inside your asshole and letting it drool out of you as he left you there, warring with Price and his weapon.

Ghost let Johnny sink to the floor, and he took his place behind you. He was as tall as the captain, and his cock was almost as large, but there was no gentle rubbing like what Johnny had given you. Simon spread you wide, making you cry out from the way you were being spread apart, your cunt desperately clenching around Price, trying to find a way to hold onto something, anything. Then, he fed his cock inside your asshole, wet already from Johnny’s greedy core, shoving and pushing and squeezing his way beside Price, not taking any sort of laws of physics too seriously.

He began to kiss your neck, staying perfectly still and buried in you to the hilt, letting Price do all the work. The captain kissed you on the other side, biting you and leaving huge red marks where his teeth were too mean on your tender flesh. 

“Too fuckin’ tight,” Ghost complained, moaning into your skin.

“Knew she could take it,” Price smiled, kissing your slack mouth.

“Needy slag,” your lieutenant growled, leaving marks of his own all across your throat. 

He was playing with your tits, pinching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb, holding them up and out, making you feel like you were trapped in his hands. Then, he would knead them, feeling the weighty softness, enjoying your vulnerability, revelling in your corruption. 

Price’s thick cock was moving you both, shoving and bullying Simon’s dick through the thin flesh between your holes, making his masked officer harden like a stone inside of you. 

“M’gonna come in you,” Ghost promised, whispering against your earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. 

You could only cry out, your brain too fuck-drunk to make any words. Sluts didn’t need words. They just needed to come hard and clench their tight little holes around these two, huge cocks. You were nothing more than a hole to be filled. 

Simon thrust in opposite motions from Price, moving himself through your asshole at an absurd speed, fucking you into a shuddering orgasm, and blowing his load deep inside your belly. You could feel its creamy warmth, and as he pulled out of you, you felt it drip from your gaping hole, mixing with Johnny’s fallen seed on the floor. 

Price was still pounding away, brute that he was. Now that he was alone, he lay you on the crate beside him and held your knees open wide, splaying your thighs apart and staring at his cock as it thrust through your folds. 

You were moaning like a paid whore, coming in waves, your whole body feeling the effects of your pleasure, full of come and hungry for more. 

Suddenly, the music kicked off with a thud and you heard laughter coming from across the room.

“Déjame adivinar…” Alejandro’s rude tone came through loud and clear, “You filthy perritos got into my Damiana, verdad?”

Rudy reached behind the crates that Gaz and Soap were leaning against, panting, sweating, and covered in come. Then, he pulled out the bottle, half-empty. He let out a low, pitying whistle, watching as Price buried himself in you with loud, wet slapping noises filling the room, 

“No mames, güey,” he shook his head, showing Alejandro the bottle, “Mira. They’ll be hard until next week.”

“Mierda!” Alejandro cursed your group, all worn out in your pitiful states, “This was expensive stuff. I had it made by a bruja! Extra strong. You owe me, pendejos.”

Their crackling laughter made your head spin, and as you listened to the pounding of flesh on flesh, you knew you were in for a long fucking night.

Hope you enjoyed this year's Kinktober adventure! Thanks for sticking around. Happy Halloween, everyone!

If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving me a like or a comment to let me know. As always, reblogs are deeply appreciated. Want more from me? Check my AO3 profile. I have over 100 COD fics! (I know, crazy.) Discord: @californicationist

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Batman Has Arrived - Matt Sturniolo

Pairings - fwb!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Two weeks into the break Matt proposed, he pops up on you at a Halloween party. Warnings - Strong language. Sexual suggestions. Fluff. A lil angst?? W/c - 2560 A/n - That tiktok Matt posted had me dreamingggg. It's now no nut November (idk if I'm participating) so I didn't want to turn this into a smut lol. Let me know what you guys think!! 🦇 Tags - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler (if anyone else wants tagged just let me know!) My Masterlist Current series - City of Love (Matt) Current works - part two to You Like me? (Matt) Latest work - Pierced (Chris)

“Code red!” your best friend sounds from behind you, making you whirl around to face her. “He’s here and he’s so pissed,” she tells you before taking a sip of her drink. Your heart drops to your stomach, the drunken haze you’re in isn’t making it better, “you told me he wouldn’t be here!”

“I didn’t think he would be!” she throws her hands up defensively. It had only been two weeks since Matt proposed a ‘break’ between you two. His reason being - ‘he wasn’t in the right mental state for a girlfriend.’ You thought it was bullshit, and it was. Matt had a bad habit of not being straightforward with you. Truth be told, even though he was always the one to suggest a break, he was always the one to come running back. His constant need to go back and forth left you feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted. This wasn't the first time he brought up the idea, in the beginning you'd constantly check in on. After the third or fourth time of him doing the same stupid shit, you decided ignoring him was best.

Already knowing how the night will end, you pour yourself another shot. Before you can bring it up to your lips, “Batman has arrived,” you hear your best friend scoff. She throws a shot back with you as Matt approaches the kitchen island. “Drinking away your problems, huh?” the familiar voice makes you hold your breath out of nervousness.

You roll your eyes almost immediately, “I didn’t have any problem until I noticed you were here.” You were still holding a grudge. It had been six months since you and Matt first started hooking up. He was probably the most confusing man you had ever been with. One minute he’s talking about a future with you, and the next he’s telling you he needs a break, that he's not ready for a relationship. You’d feel a lot better if he actually communicated, telling you what’s truly wrong, but he did the exact opposite. He never told you shit, just springs unexpected breaks on you like your feelings don’t matter.

Even worse, Matt knew you were head over heels for him. Everyone knew. The way you stare at him when he was in close proximity resembled a schoolgirl swooning over her first crush, that’s what it felt like anyway.

“Don’t be like that, Y/n/n,” he says after leaning down to your ear. The loud music blaring through the house made it hard to hear anything. His hands fall to your waist, and he leans you back against his chest, “I only came out tonight so I could see you.”

You tilt your head to get a good look at him. Black paint smears over his eyes making him look more mysterious than he already did. You gape at him, “Batman?”

Matt’s fingers make gentle circles on your waistline, the fabric of your costume bunching up in the process. You were dressed in all black, as a fallen angel. Before the break, you and Matt planned on going as Catwoman and Batman, inspired by Robert Pattinson and Zoe Kravitz. It was one of your favorite superhero movies, along with his. Apparently, Matt wasn’t creative enough to come up with another costume idea. Seeing him in the costume you coordinated for him made your stomach twirl. Little did you know - he was praying you'd come dressed as his Catwoman.

“Fallen angel?” he asks before he spins you around to face him. You nod, a bit taken back with how touchy he was being. Matt wasn’t the pda type of person, just like he wasn’t the going out type. You figured Halloween was a special occasion since it was his favorite day of the year. Matt keeps his grip firm, “you look really good.”

“Are you drunk?” you ask him, leaning in so he can hear you better. Matt immediately shakes his head, “I can’t miss you?”

Sucking your teeth and shaking your head at him, “no.” You let your eyebrows knit together, looking at everything except Matt. Truth be told, every time he suggested a break it left you heartbroken. In a way, you felt like you weren't good enough to be his girlfriend. That’s how the constant back-and-forth shit made you feel, like you weren’t good enough for him.

Your drunken state makes it harder for you to blink away the tears prickling at your eyes. Matt’s hands move from your waist to your arms, rubbing them gently like he’s trying to distract you. “Well, I do,” he tells you, searching your face for answers neither of you seem to have. The reasoning behind all the breaks wasn’t because of another girl or wanting freedom. It was simply because he felt like his mental health didn’t allow him to treat you the way you deserved to be treated, and he knew that.

Sucking a breath in and deciding to stay strong, “I’m not doing this tonight, Matt. I came here to get my mind off of you,” you spit out as you take a step back. You run your finger through your hair, hoping the night wouldn’t end how you expected it to - in Matt’s bed.

Before he can say anything else, your best friend, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, snatches you out of his grip. “Okay,” she stretches out, “that’s enough arguing for tonight.”

Matt’s face drops and he keeps a firm grip on your arm, “what? We weren’t arguing,” he defends himself. You look down at the tight grip on your arm, “c’mon y/n/n. Please don’t be like that,” empathy leaking through his words.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can Chris appears out of nowhere. He whispers something in Matt's ear, making him realize he’s causing a scene. He keeps grip tight as he looks around the room, taking in the people who are staring at you two. Innocent bystanders probably thought he was some crazy overprotective boyfriend. That wasn’t the case though, and it made your heart hurt. Matt being possessive over you was pointless if he never had any plans to make you his.

Six months. Six months you had been fucking him and he still hasn’t asked you out. You were losing hope at this point. You had the ‘don’t go back to him’ talk with your best friend time after time but you never learned your lesson. Nights like this always ended with an angry Matt fucking you into his mattress as you spoke in tongues against his pillow, leaving drool stains on the process.

Chris wraps arm around his brother's shoulder, guiding him away from you, and waving an arm over his shoulder. It was his way of signaling you to get the fuck out of there. You quickly take notion, spinning around and hauling ass out of the kitchen, your bestie close behind you.

“That was fucking intense,” she tells you once you lead her to an empty bathroom, closing the door behind her. You groan, throwing your head back, “did you see how fucking good he looked?!”

“No, no,” she says in a panicky tone. “You’re not going home with him tonight!” She knows you too well. Looking in the mirror, you critic your Halloween makeup, making sure none of it got ruined yet. Your best friend makes her way to the toilet, quickly dropping her pants and squatting, “sorry I have to pee.” You shrugged at her, knowing you’d do the same if you really had to pee.

“I feel so bad though,” you tell her while applying more lip stick. “Bitch, he should feel bad for constantly playing with your emotions,” she scoffs.

“He does. You seen his face,” defending him against her harsh opinions wasn’t uncommon at this point. Y/bf/n was just as protective over you as Matt was. Her knowing every detail about the relationship you shared with him made her question his true intentions towards you. You were never the type to have a friends with benefits relationship, and Matt was pretty much forcing you into it. He hadn’t left you alone since the first night he had you, but he never talked about furthering things either.

“Just because his face says one thing, it doesn’t mean it’s accurate,” she tells you honestly. She had a point, but you knew Matt. You knew he wore his emotions on his face before he communicated them to the world. He held a lot back from a lot of people, you included.

You shake your head in disagreement, but before you can talk, she does, “I know you’re gonna leave with him. But at least tell him what you actually want before the night is over and if he doesn’t give it to you then you need to leave him alone. Matt’s not good for you, Y/n.”

After y/bf/n finishes lecturing you, you quickly exit the bathroom, making your way back to the living room. Only problem was, Matt was standing by the doorway with Chris and Nick, scoping his surroundings in hopes to find you. As soon as his eyes land on you, his feet move in your directions. Nick and Chris in tow close behind him, you’d think they were babysitting their drunk brother, but Matt was nowhere near drunk. He was fuming.

“Y/n,” he calls out as soon as he approaches you. You let your face do the talking, scrunching your nose at his comment. Matt never called you by your first name unless he was serious. “You’re coming home with me,” he states, not bothering to give you an option. He quickly redeems himself, “cause you’re drunk.”

“Right,” you huff, running a hand through your hair, “that’s why.” Matt's lips curve upward a bit like he’s trying to smile but he fights it off, keeping them pin straight. Nick lets out a laugh behind him, followed by Chris. Ear hustlers.

You really didn’t have the time or patience to have your Halloween night ruined. You were a girl who liked to have a good time, so Matt putting a halt on your night made you give in to what he wanted. Anything to avoid the conflict at all costs, you had a soft spot for him. You couldn’t tell if it was black paint he had smeared across his eyes, something told you had to go home with him. Then again, your conscious convinced itself every other night you needed him. Holding out for the past two weeks did neither of you the justice it should’ve. It only made the infatuation worse.

Not even twenty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of Matt’s car. He sped through traffic occasionally glancing at you with the sour expression still stuck on his face like glue. Two weeks and you were already wasted at a Halloween party, giving any random guy the opportunity to make a play on you. It pissed him off to no end.

Matt knew every time he suggested a break, it broke your heart a little bit more. He couldn’t bring himself to publicly announce your relationship, he feared the attention would ruin it all. If you were soft for him then you’d be soft when the hate comment came along too, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen. As overprotective as he was, he knew he’d lash out at anyone who threw a negative comment your way. He had a soft spot for you, he just didn’t let it show. Deep down, you could sense it every time you were with him and that’s what reeled you in more each time.

“What’s with the looks?” you decide to finally break the silence, cutting the tension that floated in the air. It didn’t matter how mad he was, the Batman costume was doing wonders for you. Matt gives you the silent treatment, mentally scolding himself for practically kidnapping you. He knew it was toxic, and he knew he was the cause of it. The rest of the car ride is silent until he pulls up to his apartment.

“C’mon Matt,” you whine, “I really like the way your face is painted,” pulling the sleeve of his shirt. Not wanting to fight with him anymore, you caved like usual. Instead of letting his shitty mood get the best of you, you made light of it, doing anything you could to make the night end well.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” keeping his tone low and teasing, “you ghost me for weeks and now all the sudden want me, wonder why?” This wasn’t unfamiliar for you and Matt to be so hot and cold with each other. Whether you liked it or not, it happened too frequently. As soon as the door is open, you rush inside to kick off your shoes, stumbling in the process, “slow down!” Matt reaches a hand out, snaking it around your waist to steady you. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you hold on to his bicep in an attempt to steady yourself even more, “I’m drunk.”

“I know, baby. I can tell,” he keeps his grasp tight on you, kicking his shoes off, and leading you to the bedroom. Needles and pins stick into your feet with every step you take, making you take a mental note to never wear those heels again. Matt pushes his bedroom door open revealing his messy room. He never made his room look nice unless he was expecting someone you. In a way, you found it comforting because you knew he didn’t fuck anyone during your breaks. Instead, he sulked, trying to find ways to make the situation better but it never worked. He never put in full effort, and he knew it. It killed him.

You take your spot on Matt’s bed, making yourself comfortable. “I’m gonna go wash up,” he tells you quietly.

“What nooo,” you stretch out, rising to your feet and stumbling in the process. “I told you I like it,” crossing your arms over your chest.

“Seriously?” He asks as he takes off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the door. “I thought you were kidding,” he chuckles. Even though he was still upset over the whole situation, he couldn’t help but think your drunken haze was the cutest thing. He loved how goofy and playful you were, like all the shyness disappears.

You reach out to him, taking the hem of his sleeve between your fingers, “I really wanted to be your Catwoman tonight, y’know,” giving him those seductive doe eyes you mastered years ago. That look made him crack every time.

“The least you can do is be my Batman,” filling in the gap between the two of you. You press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck, “you missed me?”

Matt hangs his head, making sure he’s ear level to you, “I did,” growling lowly. He places a sloppy kiss on your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine. Matt's hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and he pulls you closer to him. It never failed, as soon as he got you in his possession, there was no keeping his hands off of you. The break ended right then and there.

[strawberrygummiess]

goo goo muck.

floyd leech x gender neutral! reader 1.4k words cross posted on ao3 "By the time this year’s Halloween was over, you never wanted to see a piece of candy again—especially no trick-or-treaters. But now you were in a dance hall in a pocket dimension, tired and annoyed, watching the students’ party when all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. Bah, humbug, or whatever the Halloween equivalent was." (sorry for posting this after Halloween)

If there was a competition for being Halloween’s biggest Scrooge, you’d win it.

As a kid, you loved Halloween—the obvious candy collection, of course, but also the costumes, the décor, and the overall joy the season carried. Even now, you would’ve loved Halloween if you weren’t forced to work seven days straight to keep annoying teenagers out of your dorm room.

By the time this year’s Halloween was over, you never wanted to see a piece of candy again—especially no trick-or-treaters. But now you were in a dance hall in a pocket dimension, tired and annoyed, watching the students’ party when all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep.

Bah, humbug, or whatever the Halloween equivalent was.

You were glowering in a lone corner, holding a drink in one hand and rubbing your temple with the other. Your head was pounding. Lilia insisted that the music be deafening, and it felt like the ghosts might hold you here indefinitely. And the longer you stayed, the grumpier you got, your scowl getting deeper and deeper. At this point, the pounding of your head synced with the beat of the loud techno.

"Woah, Shrimpy, if you keep frowning, your face’ll get stuck like that.”

You purse your lips and look up at Floyd. On a good day, you can only handle Floyd in small doses. On a bad day, you just wanted him to go away. You liked Floyd, but he was not something you were capable of handling while your head was seconds away from exploding.

“It’ll be perfect for Halloween then, won’t it? A scary face for a scary day.”

You mean it to be dismissive and boring. But you should know better than to assume Floyd will leave you alone so easily. You know Floyd has a bit of fascination with you. At first, you were concerned, especially when- in between cheers of joy- Riddle gave you half-hearted condolences. But Jade had eased your concerns, saying that “you weren’t so interesting to hold his attention for that long” and that he’d eventually grow bored of you (whatever that meant). But that was months ago, and he was still going strong. And Riddle was still happy to revel in your misery.

Floyd grins and joins you along the wall, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes you. You catch the frown on his face and rub your temples again. The music is much too loud.

“What gives Shrimpy? You’re being a big stick-in-the-mud,” Floyd whines, scrunching his body so his face is level with yours. You sigh again and take a sip of your drink. You could lie and say there’s nothing wrong or that you can’t dance, but he’s not stupid. The longer you stretch this out, the worse it’ll be for you.

“My head hurts, and I’m really tired." You start, finally looking at him. His full attention is on you, and it’s slightly unsettling. You’ve always liked how his eye glowed in the dark, but now it was too intense. It was like you were wronging him by denying him his fun, even if it was at your expense. You break eye contact.

“My head feels like it’s going to explode, and this music is not helping.”

You stare at the ground, counting the tiles under your feet while you wait for Floyd to respond. You assume he’ll say something about you being boring or try to get you to ignore your pain to entertain him. But instead, he says nothing. For a long time. So long you have to check if he’s still there.

He’s staring at you when you look again. Face blank, eyes focused. He straightened up back to full height, an imposing figure staring down at you with one glowing eye. He looks terrifying in the dark.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—to save yourself, but Floyd begins to giggle.

“Oh man, I’m DIGGIN’ that look, Little Shrimpy. I gotta make your face contort in fear more often.”

You hadn’t realized you were making a face. Now you hope he can see your irritation.

"Aww, don’t get all clammy on me, Shrimpy,” Floyd whines, moving from his place on the wall to stand in front of you. He raises his hands to cradle your head, and your heart beats wildly in your chest. You can’t tell if you’re scared this time.

“Do you feel the pressure here?” He moves his hands to your temples. “Or here?” He takes his right hand and gently rubs his thumb under your eyebrow.

You use your open eye to look up at him, trying to see if he planned on crushing your skull then and there. But he only gives you a lazy smile, patiently waiting for you to answer him, absentmindedly rubbing your face. It might’ve felt better if it was skin-on-skin contact, but the fabric on the glove was beginning to irritate your skin.

“My temples,” you answer, wincing when he moves his hand. Floyd hadn’t been rubbing the skin that hard or for long. Maybe you could ask Epel to share some moisturizers with you later.

Floyd puts his hands back on your temples. You assume he’s going to rub the sides of them like you were doing earlier, but when you look back up, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

He looks giddy, with a wild grin on his face and his eyes focused like a hunter. This is the face he makes when he’s given the green light from Azul to “squeeze” some unruly patrons of Mostro Lounge. And now he’s giving you the same look, hands wrapped tightly around your head.

You were going to die.

You can’t bear to look Floyd in the eyes anymore and squeeze them shut. Hopefully, this means when he crushes your skull, your eyes won’t pop out. You’ve always wanted an open-casket funeral. You hear Floyd cackle in glee, and your head throbs again. If anything, you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with your migraine anymore.

Floyd puts pressure on your temples, slowly squeezing your skull. You feel it slowly, the sensation blossoming from where his palms are to the orbital region of your skull. You wait for your head to explode violently, but it never comes. Instead, you realize your headache has subdued significantly, barely feeling the throbbing sensation at all anymore.

Your eyes shoot open, and you look at Floyd shocked. He meets your gaze and begins to giggle again.

“Dude, you’re full of fun expressions. What’d you think I was gonna do?”

“Not that! You looked like you were ready to kill me!” You try to defend yourself, but you look silly, head crushed between Floyd’s hands.

“You’d know if I was gonna squeeze you in the bad way. This is the good squeeze that makes your headaches go away. I do it to Jade all the time." To emphasize his point, he adds more pressure to your temples.

You pout, because he’s right. It is making your headache go away. And because you know you’ll be stuck with Floyd for another month while you are indebted to him. Maybe if you got enough headaches, you could bore him away.

“Well?” Floyd draws the L’s out in a sing-song manner. “Feelin’ any better, Shrimpy?”

You feel a lot better. Your headache isn’t fully gone, but it’s manageable now. Hopefully, the ghosts will declare the party over and release you soon. Floyd’s squeezing can’t fight exhaustion, and now that’s your biggest problem.

You grab Floyd’s hands and move them from your temples, rubbing the top of his hands with your thumbs. You smile appreciatively, genuinely happy to be freed from your migraine.

“Yes, thank you.”

You try to let go of Floyd’s hands, but he moves to interlock them, his wild grin back on his face. He leans down to your level again, his glowing eye narrowing as his smile grows impossibly wide. You initially thought you tamed the beast, but your naiveté left you caught in his trap.

“Good, now we gotta dance. I’m not letting you go ‘til you collapse." He pulls you away from the wall quickly, dragging you to the center of the dance floor and twirling you around until you’re dizzy.

Make it two more months stuck with Floyd.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 | ghostface!darren (pig) x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | he probably wasn't even invited to this party, because who would invite him? but he came anyways... just to torment you. far more than you could've imagined, in fact.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 2.5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | NONCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!!, public sex, degradation, pain kink, knife kink, a bit of predator/prey, blood kink, smoking, unprotected sex/implied risk of pregnancy, darren is kind of an incel lmao

It was a pretty traditional high school party— overcrowded, loud and sweaty, bad music and worse liquor— but at least the sea of costumes, ranging from scary to silly to sexy, added at least some new layer of interest to the whole thing.

You hadn’t tried very hard with your devil costume— more accurately an attempt at a ‘sexy devil’ costume— but you put on horns and heels with a tight red dress and nobody can really complain.  You weren’t really here to get into the ‘spooky spirit’ or whatever anyways, just an excuse to drink and maybe chat with some people you’d been missing.

The person you ended up chatting to right in that moment, though, was exactly the last person you wanted to talk to.

You didn’t even know there was someone behind you until you felt him press up to your back, suddenly hovering right by you.  “Want a drink?” he asked, shoving a cup towards you, but you were too busy nearly jumping out of your skin to care— you almost knocked the drink over, actually some of it did splash onto another partygoer, but she was too drunk to notice.

“Fuck!” you yelped, turning to see the gangly boy behind you.  “Christ, Darren, do you have to always sneak up on a girl like that?”

He just smiled and tried to offer the drink to you again.

“M’already holding one,” you pointed out with a frown, “didn’t ya notice?”

“O-oh yeah,” he mumbled, lowering the cup finally.  “Costume looks good.”

“Thanks,” you shrugged, though you suddenly felt the urge to tug down the bottom of your dress.

“You’re not worried what the boys are gonna think with you dressed like that?” he asked, and you glared at him as you shoved his shoulder.  

“Don’t you think before you open your fuckin’ mouth?” you spat.  “What are you, anyway?”

The black robes didn’t really tell you anything— not until he reached behind his head and pulled a Ghostface mask over his face.

“Oh,” you snorted, “not the most original, is it?”

“Don’t like t’movie?” he wondered as he pulled the mask back again.

“I mean, it’s pretty good,” you relented, “but—”

“You wanna fuck ‘im, don’t you?” he insisted suddenly with a lascivious grin. 

“What?” you squinted.

“Ghostface,” he clarified, “you’re one of the girls who thinks he’s fit, yeah?”

“Why are you always such a creep?” you asked him with a grimace, but then you decided to change the topic quickly.  “Kinda thought you’d be a pig or something,” you admitted, “with the nickname and all.”

“Nah, that’s stupid,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms— which made you notice the prop knife in his hand.  It actually looked pretty good, shinier than most plastic costume knives.

Just then, Jimmy O’Doyle sauntered up beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders.  “Ay, little devil,” he greeted, flicking the red horns on your head as you smiled sheepishly.

He hardly acknowledged Darren, spare for a quick nod, but Darren was staring at Jimmy for a little too long before he looked at you again.

“Thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” Darren said sharply, glowering a bit.

Jimmy scoffed and you shifted uncomfortably; Darren tended to be… what’s the word… desperate?  Clingy?  Overall bizarre?  He certainly couldn’t take much of a hint.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said first, though that didn’t really matter— you didn’t need any reason to reject Darren, outside of your natural self-preservation instinct.  He actually wasn’t bad-looking, but it was hard to tell past those leering eyes and the uncomfortable smile.  He wasn’t smiling now though… he looked quietly enraged, sipping pointedly on his drink as he glanced away for a moment.  

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Jimmy smirked at you, hardly waiting for your nod before disappearing back into the crowd.

Suddenly, as you felt Darren’s livid gaze from awkwardly close, you decided that you needed a little fresh air.  And by that, you really meant a cigarette.

Not wanting to tell Darren that you were going outside for a smoke, you instead mumbled some excuse about going to the loo— somewhere he was just sane enough not to follow you to— and bumped through the crowd until you found a door out into the neighbourhood.

There was a slight drizzle still going outside— more of a misting, really— that made everything all foggy and grey, spare for the yellow-y glow of the streetlamps dotting the way.  It wasn’t a full moon, as cool as that would be, but near to one… regardless, it wasn’t visible behind low, dark clouds, leaving the night starless and dreary.  There wasn’t much to look at in the alley as you lit your cigarette and took slow drags from it, so as you stared blankly forward at brick walls with chipping whitewash, your mind wandered a bit.  Nothing of great merit: upcoming assignments, the possibility of an afterparty, the lingering hope you could find a steamy hook-up for the night… you didn’t just put this outfit on for the pictures.

Before you could get too far into your imagination, you were startled by a distant sound, jumping slight as your head turned towards it— but it was just the dark alley, not much to see.  You squinted, trying to make out movement in the shadows, but for quite a while you couldn’t see anything.

Only when you turned your head back forward with a shrug was there any sign of what you’d heard, just a shift in the corner of your eye.  You looked at it again, and you hated to admit it, but your heart froze up for a second when that white face emerged from the darkness.

Of course, you gave your best unaffected scoff when you actually processed what you were looking at.

“Quit it, Darren,” you warned, willing your voice to sound stable as you shouted down the road towards him, “you’re not gonna scare me.”

You watched him move closer, stepping into the light so you could see him better, and tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck stood up.  If he knew he was getting to you, he’d just keep doing it; you rolled your eyes and took a drag through your cigarette to try to seem nonchalant… but you had to stop your hand from shaking just a bit.  Only because it was chilly out, surely…

You thought it was a joke— a stupid joke, but still just a joke— until he dragged his knife along the brick wall as he stalked toward you.  The sharp, high-pitched screech of metal against stone was unmistakable… and that was how you realised it was a real knife.  A very sharp, very real knife; he’s going to actually kill me, you thought, just before you let out a primal and instinctive scream.

Turning on your heel, you ran as fast as you could.  Each rapid pulse of your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins, and you felt so shaky that you worried the light night breeze would knock you over.  

These were far from running shoes, though— they were pretty excruciating to just stand in, actually— and it was only a few blocks of a chase before you tripped.  Yelping in pain, you tried to scramble up or even crawl forward… but just as you rolled over and winced from landing on your hip, you saw him stalking forward into the flickering light of a streetlamp.

He was probably just going to take the mask off and laugh at you, right?  Reveal the whole thing was a silly prank and the knife was fake and that he just wanted to prove you were scared of him.  Yes, that would be the most sane thing for him to do at that moment, even after being so not-sane by chasing you with a knife.  Instead, as you tried to crawl back, he just tilted his masked head curiously at you, and with his free hand reached down and palmed at his groin.  He was hard— you could see the outline of it through his costume, his hips rocking forward slightly into his palm as you heard a muffled hiss from his mouth.

He knelt down and grabbed your kicking legs, roughly yanking you closer and hovering above you menacingly.  “C’mon and scream for me,” he ordered with a delighted purr, pulling his mask back, laughing when what came out of you was more of a wail or sob instead.  “Louder, y’little whore—”

“Get off me!” you shrieked, trying to fight him away, whining as he laid down over you instead and licked your neck.  You turned your head with a grimace, shuddering as his weight pinned you against the slightly-damp pavement.

“G’na show Pig how tight the little hole gets when you’re scared— aren’t ya, fuckin’ slut?”

“Be serious, Darren— s’not funny, get away from me!”

You struggled less when he flashed the knife; as little as you could, in fact you actually nearly froze as he teased you with it, running the tip down the front of your dress with just enough pressure to pop a few sequins off, making you whimper in terror.  He laughed, though— a small, dark, chuckle.  “Quiet now,” he noticed.  “Don’t make a fuss, sweetheart.”

You had to bite your lip to hide a shout, though, when a gloved hand up slipped under your short dress, grabbing greedily at your lacy panties.  He licked his teeth, bared by his grin, as he stared at you with those haunting eyes of his.  “Wet, aren’tcha, girl?” he taunted— not that he’d be able to feel it through his black gloves, but past your own groaning you could almost hear it (though you tried not to).

“You’re such a creep!” you spat, though you tried to regulate your tone as you glanced at his knife again, held against you by one of his hands on your arm; maybe part of you still thought he would stop and admit it was a joke, but the darkness in his stare made you doubt that more and more.  The gravity of the situation still hadn’t really set in yet— sure, you were coursing with fear and had goosebumps all over, but it didn’t totally feel real.

“Won’t take too long,” he promised with a sigh as he hastily tugged his costume out of the way, still pinning you down with one hand (if not as effectively).  When he roughly yanked his cock out, proudly brandishing it between your legs as your eyes went wide… that’s when it felt real.

“Don’t,” you gasped instantly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.  “Don’t, Darren, please— you can’t—”

“Shh,” he hissed quickly, “s’good— gonna feel good, alright?”

He gasped loudly as he pushed inside you, eyes shutting tight before he dropped his head down onto your chest.  “Fuck, girl— what’s a whore cunt so tight for?”

Not wasting any time, he pulled his hips back and roughly thrusted forward into you again, making you choke on your cry.

“S’for me, isn’t it?” he decided with a sick sort of grin.  “Want Pig to feel good?  Like t’squeeze the thick cock, don’t ya?”

“I— I fuckin’ hate you,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight, in disgusted disbelief that this was happening— that it was him inside you, holding you down.  But you couldn’t forget it, not with him moaning and purring above you, mumbling stuttered praises… and the feeling of it, it was impossible to ignore, as much as you hoped to somehow.  It was a deep stretch, each thrust making your chest tighten out of more than just fear.

“Mmf, fuck,” he grunted, holding onto you tighter— another reminder he still had that fucking knife.  “Pretty— it’s a pretty thing… it’s warm inside…”

Grimacing, you hated the way your body responded to his lewd comments about it; your walls clenched on him slightly, you could tell by the way you felt even more sore inside than before.

He pressed the knife up against your neck, growling in amusement at your wince of fear.  “Think Pig’s gonna slice you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you stammered out your answer, eventually.

“Waste of a pretty face, no?” he smirked, moving the knife up and caressing the side of your face with it— not that it could really be called a caress, all rigid and cold like that… “Say please.”

“Huh?”

“Say please,” he repeated, “beg me not to hurt you.”

“Already are,” you sneered at him, but he pressed the knife to your neck with a little more intention— a little more pressure, a wild look in his eyes suddenly— as he insisted again.

“Wanna hear you beg,” he spat.  “Do it or Piggy might hurt you worse.”

“Please, please,” you whispered shakily, shutting your eyes.  “Please don’t, Darren…”

You gasped sharply as he pressed the knife down just enough to draw a thin line of blood, only to pull the blade away and lick hungrily at the wound.  Feeling dizzy and sick, you winced at the sting of his tongue lapping at your pierced skin, lips wrapping around and suckling as teeth dug painfully into your pulse.

He thrusted faster, recklessly so, and bit down on his lip as he breathed heavier.  You were too focused on how painfully deep he was going to really process anything when he started to slow down— that is, you felt that he was slowing down, and didn’t think for a minute about why he was slowing down.  

His loud, low groan gave it away; you snapped back to reality and looked up at him in a new kind of fear.  “Fuck, Darren, did you just—?!” you whimpered, squirming harder as you realised what he’d done.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed you sharply, hissing as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip.  “Stay fuckin’ still, girl— fuck, I’m still coming—”

You yelped and tried harder to fight him off, but he kept you pinned down easily, even forcing you into a rough and sloppy kiss.

He sighed into it after a second, relaxing on top of you until it was a little hard to breathe under his weight.  You whined and tried to break away, but the hand with the knife still in it held your jaw, the cold metal pressing threateningly against your face.

Whimpering and blinking up at him, you met his icy gaze and he smiled proudly down at you.  “Little devil, eh?” he smirked as he toyed with your horned headband, which had become quite dishevelled from all the running and struggling.  “Your blood matches the outfit— poor whore, red all over…”

“Darren,” you choked, fighting a sob of disbelief as you felt him pull out of you with a hiss— a steady, sticky leak giving away how much he’d come.  “What the fuck did you do?”

“Don’t be fussin’, girl, like I said,” he rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning wide.  “Ready to go back to the party now?  Or do you just want Pig to take y’home, sweetheart?” 

[goblinontour]

The Mephistopheles Of Los Angeles

dracula’s hungry

warnings: soft!dom!alex (ish), smut, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), period stuff

word count: 5.4k

He never really understood why he threw himself into the whole Halloween thing with such intensity every year. Maybe it was the spectacle of it all, the chance to be someone else for a night. He’d spend weeks, months even, obsessing over his costume, as if it really mattered. It never did, though. By the end of the night, he’d always regret it.

Like tonight. 

He trailed about ten steps behind you, limping slightly because his boots were rubbing his feet raw. The oversized, stiff leather had seemed like a good idea when he first planned the outfit, but now every step was a painful reminder of his poor choices. His wig, which had been an itchy, tangled mess of cheap black hair meant to give him some rockstar edge, Alice Cooper, or something close enough, was clutched in his fist. It had been driving him mad since he put it on, and he finally gave up. Now he just looked ridiculous, like some half-done version of a Halloween cliché, with smeared eyeliner and the remnants of his costume hanging in tatters around him. 

He glanced down at the wig and considered chucking it into one of the bins lining the street. It would be satisfying in the moment, but what was the point? It was a shit party anyway. 

You hadn’t even stayed long. The music was too loud, the crowd too chaotic. He’d barely gotten a drink down before you turned to him, your eyes saying everything you didn’t have to. “Can we just go home?” you asked. He didn’t even need a reason, he was more than down for it. The second you mentioned leaving, he didn’t ask why. He didn’t care. If anything, he was relieved. 

He followed you now, watching the way your costume moved with the sway of your hips, feeling a little guilty for not telling you how great you looked tonight. But the weight of his own annoyance hung over him, making it hard to say much of anything.

The night was cool, the air damp with the scent of wet pavement. You led the way, a ghost of a smile flickering at the corner of your lips as you glanced over your shoulder, slowing just enough for him to catch up. Even though you’d left the party early, you didn’t seem disappointed at all. Maybe you knew he wasn’t having fun. Maybe you just wanted him all to yourself tonight.

Either way, he didn’t mind. The costume could rot in a corner somewhere for all he cared. He just wanted to get home, peel off the rest of this nightmare outfit, and collapse with you.

He quickened his pace, falling in step beside you, his hand brushing against yours. “That bad, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked him over, taking in his state.

“Worse.” he muttered, letting out a breath. “I think I’m done with Halloween for good.”

You laughed softly, and the sound of it warmed him in a way the night air couldn’t. “You say that every year, Alex.”

“And I mean it every year.”

“Sure you do.” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

When you two finally got home, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you seemed to echo in the quiet space. You sighed, bending down to take off your shoes, relieved to be free of them after a night of walking. The costume was starting to feel as cumbersome as Alex’s, but you were more than ready to unwind and put the night behind you.

Just as you balanced on one foot, pulling off your second shoe, you felt it. A light slap on your ass, followed by a familiar, playful pressure as Alex’s hips thrust into you from behind. His hands snaked around your waist, firm and insistent, pulling you back against him. His front bent down to align with your back, lips hovering just above your neck.

“Alex!” you gasped, not sure whether to be annoyed or laugh at how predictable he was.

“We should have sex.” he murmured against your bare shoulder, his voice low, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You sat up, leaning back against his chest, but you didn’t pull away from his hold. “No.”

“Yes.” he countered, not missing a beat, his breath warm against your neck.

“Can’t.” you replied simply, though your resolve was already starting to crumble with the way his hands slid across your waist, tracing the curve of your hips.

Alex’s lips curled into a smirk as he pressed himself closer, his hands slipping lower. “I think I’m very capable of having sex with you.” he muttered, voice thick, his body already moving against yours like he was ready to prove it.

You let out a soft laugh, finally turning around in his arms to face him. “Period, you horny bitch. That’s why I wanted to leave.” you said, giving him a pointed look.

He blinked, a spark of realisation crossing his face before a grin spread slowly across his lips. “Fits the occasion.” he said, completely unbothered, shrugging like it was the most logical thing he could think of. “What’s so bad about getting a little bloody?”

Your jaw dropped in mock horror as he bit down on your neck, playfully channelling his best Dracula impression, already looking like a 21st century reincarnation of him.

“That’s gross, Alex.” you said, half-laughing, half-sighing, though the sensation of his teeth on your skin made it hard to push him away.

“Don’t care.” he said with a wicked grin, his grip on you tightening as he started to take small, clumsy steps forward, guiding you with him. You stumbled together, his hands never leaving your body, your legs tangling up as you nearly toppled over, catching yourself against his chest.

“Consider me the Mephistopheles of Los Angeles.” he continued, lips brushing your ear. “Who’s trying out for a band, obviously.”

“Obviously.” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as his words got more ridiculous by the second. “You are unbelievable.”

“And irresistible.” he added, clearly pleased with himself as he pressed his forehead to yours, locking his gaze with yours. The room seemed to tilt for a moment, the tension between you electric, fueled by his playful persistence and the heat still buzzing from the party.

Despite everything, you could feel yourself melting against him, your body responding to the warmth of his touch and the way his lips hovered so close to yours, daring you to give in. You knew you weren’t going to win this one, but you let him have his moment anyway, because his relentless charm was working its magic on you, as always.

As Alex’s mouth moved against yours, the remnants of his smudged face paint became a mess between you, slick and greasy as it smeared over your chin, probably even mingling between your mouths. You could taste it, a hint of something synthetic and oily, but it was quickly overshadowed by the familiar taste of him, warm, intoxicating, and the way his kiss pulled you deeper into him.

His lips trailed to your jaw, teeth grazing lightly as he murmured, voice low and rough, “I want you down…”

Your breath hitched at the way his words came out, thick with need.

“On your knees.”

“Mhm…” you barely managed to respond, the heat of his body pressed so close to yours, the pressure of his hands on your hips already making you lightheaded. His lips returned to yours, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t giving you enough, not with the way his hands were already moving lower, searching, hungry.

“So I can eat you out.” he growled, each word punctuated with the way his lips ghosted over yours, as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Your heart raced, the pulse between your legs almost unbearable at his words, at the way his voice dipped lower. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…fuck-” he groaned, his mouth crashing back to yours briefly before he pulled away, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. He was already palming himself through his jeans, his hand rubbing against the thick outline of his erection, his control slipping with every passing second. “I can’t wait, babe.”

The way his hands roamed over your body, desperate, impatient, made your stomach flip. You could feel his fingers digging into your waist, pulling you closer to him, his need practically vibrating through his grip. He kissed you once more, this time sloppier, hurried, before breaking away entirely.

By the time you reached the bedroom, it was a blur of hasty touches and stumbled steps, the both of you too far gone to care about being graceful. The second you crossed the threshold, he wasted no time. He spun you around and nearly threw you down onto the bed, the weight of your body sinking into the mattress beneath you. His hands followed, tracing up the backs of your thighs with rough, insistent strokes, fingers gripping the fabric of your dress as he pushed it up, exposing the curve of your ass and the damp fabric of your underwear.

He paused for just a second, his breath catching as his gaze fixed on you. 

“You stained your panties.” he muttered, voice tight with restrained desire. His fingers grazed the edge of the fabric, teasingly tugging at the hem, just enough to make you shiver under his touch.

You turned your head to glance back at him, voice barely more than a breath as you answered, “I know. That’s why I wanted to get home.”

His reaction was instant, a deep, guttural sound that came from low in his throat as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the small of your back. His hands slid further up your thighs, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric of your dress, bunching it up higher until it was resting around your waist. He needed to feel you, to have you all to himself.

You didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, you let yourself lean forward, your chest pressing into the mattress as you arched your back, your ass lifted high for him. You could feel his eyes on you, practically burning holes into your skin with the intensity of his gaze.

“Fuck.” he groaned again. You felt his hands knead the soft flesh of your ass, spreading you open as he took in the sight of you. He dipped his head down, and the warmth of his breath sent a shiver up your spine, anticipation pooling low in your belly.

“You’re fucking perfect.” he murmured, like he couldn’t believe you were here, like this, just for him. His hands roamed over your body. His lips followed, brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs before pressing soft kisses against your ass, teasing and torturous.

“Al-” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with anticipation as your fingers curled tighter into the sheets. The warmth of his breath drifted lower, teasing you, making your skin burn with every second he lingered. You were already soaked, could feel the slick wetness between your thighs. The weight of his stare as he pulled the fabric to the side made it even worse.

But just as the fabric stretched tight against your hips, Alex hesitated for only a fraction of a second before a low, frustrated growl rumbled from his throat. Without warning, his hands tightened, fingers gripping the delicate waistband of your panties, and with one swift motion he tore the frail material right off your body. The sound of it, sharp, unmistakable, ripped through the quiet of the room, the sudden snap making your pulse race.

The air hit your bare skin, cool against the heat of your body, and your breath caught in your throat as the remnants of your panties dangled from his fingers for a split second before he tossed them aside. They were ruined, completely shredded, but you didn’t care. Neither did he.

“They were done for anyway.” he muttered, his breath hot against the back of your thigh. His hands slid back up your legs, rough and impatient, fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t stand to be away from you any longer. “Couldn’t help it.”

The sound of the fabric tearing was still echoing in your mind, but all you could focus on now was him. The way his grip tightened, his hands unrelenting as he spread you open. His breath hovered over your most sensitive spot, and you could feel his lips grazing the inside of your thighs, kissing his way up.

“God, you’re so wet.” he breathed as his thumb teased along your slick folds, tracing you, making you gasp. “Been like this all night, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, could only nod as your hips moved instinctively, pushing back toward him, desperate for his touch. The anticipation was unbearable, every second that passed without his mouth on you felt like torture.

“Poor thing.” Alex chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as his fingers parted you gently, exposing you more to the cool air and his hungry gaze. His lips brushed your ass again for a second, before he finally, finally, dipped his head lower.

In an instant, his mouth was on you, hot and wet, and the sensation was electric, lighting up every nerve in your body. You let out a soft moan, fingers clutching the sheets even tighter as he worked his tongue against you, slow at first, savouring the taste of you like he’d been starving for it.

He groaned against your skin, the vibration of it sending shocks of pleasure through you, and the roughness of his slight stubble grazed your inner thighs as his tongue delved deeper, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer.

You let out a soft, desperate whimper, your hips rolling against his face as his tongue moved with a rhythm that left you breathless. The heat was overwhelming, your body burning from the inside out as Alex devoured you, lost in the taste and the feel of you. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread open and steady as he licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around your clit, dragging out every ounce of pleasure he could pull from you.

“Fuck...you taste so fucking good.” Alex growled against you, his voice rough and muffled as his mouth moved between your thighs, lips and tongue working together to drag you closer and closer to the edge. 

He paused for just a moment, pulling his mouth away to look at your face, turned to watch him, his lips glistening with your slickness, eyes dark and blown with lust. “Almost sweet.” he murmured, “I can’t get enough.”

You whimpered softly at his words, already missing the feel of his tongue on you, your body aching for him to continue. But before you could even ask, he was moving, this time with a different kind of urgency.

He shifted back slightly, his hands still gripping your thighs, but now his fingers moved to the front of his jeans. You could hear the metallic sound of his zipper being dragged down, the noise cutting through the heat of the moment like a shot of adrenaline. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

With a groan, he freed himself, pulling his cock out with one hand, the other still gripping your thigh tightly. His breath hitched as he stroked himself, the slick glide of his hand moving in the same rhythm that his tongue had just been fucking into you.

“Look at you.” he murmured, more to himself than to you, his voice dripping with desire.

The tension was unbearable. You arched your back further, pushing yourself toward him, desperate for his touch. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Impatient, aren’t you?” he teased, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns over your thighs.

You opened your mouth to answer, but the words never came. In an instant, his mouth was on you again, hot and demanding, his tongue dragging over your folds with a groan so deep it found its way through your entire body. Your hips bucked instinctively, a gasp ripping from your throat.

His tongue pushed inside you again, moving with the same pace as his hand on his cock, each stroke of his tongue matched by the slow pump of his fist.

Every time his tongue dipped into your hole, it felt like your body was being torn apart, pleasure shooting up your spine in sharp, dizzying waves. And every time his hand moved over his cock, you could feel the way his body was straining for release, just as desperate as you were. 

You couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from your lips, hips pushing back against his face as your body chased the overwhelming sensation. You were both a mess of limbs, sweat, and heat, tangled up in each other, his mouth relentless against you as his fist moved faster, his groans vibrating against your skin.

He wasn’t holding back, wasn’t teasing anymore. He was all in, and it was driving you wild. The way his hands held you open, the wet heat of his mouth, it was too much and not enough all at once.

Your fingers clenched tighter in the sheets, your body already trembling as he buried his face deeper between your legs. 

And he was loving it. You could hear the way he was groaning, the way he was losing himself in the taste of you, each sound driving you closer to the edge. His hands slid up, one gripping your waist as the other found its way to your clit, circling it with slow strokes that made your knees weak.

“Fuck…” you gasped, barely able to get the word out as your body tensed, everything tightening under the pressure of what he was doing to you. He had you right on the edge, his mouth and fingers working together with an unrelenting rhythm, pulling you apart bit by bit until you were nothing but raw nerves and the overwhelming need to let go.

“That’s it.” he murmured against you, muffled by the way his mouth stayed pressed against your soaked folds. “I want you to come for me, babe.”

And with the way his tongue flicked over your clit, the wet, perfect pressure of his fingers dipping inside of you, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. The heat coiling deep in your belly suddenly snapped, your body going rigid as the orgasm ripped through you, a white-hot wave of pleasure that had you crying out, hips bucking wildly against his mouth.

Your hips dropped, shaking uncontrollably as your body gave in, but Alex didn’t stop. His hands gripped you tighter, refusing to let you go as he followed your movement, craning his neck down to keep his mouth attached to you. His tongue still worked against your clit, dragging out every last tremor until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

“Alex.” you whimpered, trying to pull away, the overstimulation too much to handle, but he didn’t let up. He kept his mouth on you relentlessly, until you were practically shaking, until you had no choice but to push him away, the pleasure bordering on too much.

Finally, he gave up, pulling back with a groan. He turned you over onto your back, and you could see the evidence of everything you’d just been through all over him. Blood smeared across his mouth and chin, mixing with the wet sheen from his lips, and god, it was so fucking hot you didn’t care how weird it might’ve been.

“You look like a vampire.” you said, your breath still coming in shallow gasps.

Alex raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Mhm?”

“Sexiest Dracula I’ve ever seen.” you told him, your voice shaky but teasing, the heat between you still electric as he sat back on his knees on the bed, towering over you.

He was still pumping his cock in his hand, his gaze never leaving yours. The sight of him like that, dark hair tousled, face smeared with your blood, his hand wrapped around himself as he watched you with pure hunger in his eyes, made your heart race all over again.

“Let me make you come.” you said, voice soft but insistent as you sat up.

He paused for a moment, his hand stilling, fingers sliding over the tip of his cock slowly as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, okay.” he breathed, voice strained.

He lay back on the bed, and you didn’t waste any time. You crawled toward him, your knees pressing into the mattress as you leaned over his body. The way he was still fully clothed, his jeans unbuttoned just enough to free his cock, the rest of him completely untouched, made you go crazy. There was something about the contrast of his clothed body against the raw need in his eyes that made your pulse race.

You reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his cock, taking over from where his hand had been. He groaned the moment you touched him, hips lifting off the bed slightly as you gave him a firm stroke. You could feel how hard he was, the weight of him thick and heavy in your hand, and it sent a rush of heat through you all over again.

“Fuck…” Alex moaned, his head falling back against the pillows as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, completely at your mercy now.

Alex’s groan echoed in the room as he suddenly shifted, moving you off him with a sense of urgency, getting up from the bed just to pull his jeans down. You watched, your gaze locked on his every movement as he turned his back to you, his body still caught in the dim, hazy light of the room. The waistband of his jeans slid down his hips, and you couldn’t help but stare as his ass bounced slightly, his underwear slipping down as well in one smooth motion. His shirt hung just low enough to almost cover him, but not quite, leaving enough for you to see, and for your imagination to go wild.

“You’re so hot.” you murmured, your voice dripping with desire.

“I know.” he shot back with that signature smirk, turning to face you with his cock hanging heavy between his thighs, the eyeliner around his eyes making his gaze look even darker, more dangerous. He pulled a cigarette from the pack he’d stuffed in his back pocket earlier, flicking it up to his lips. Slumping back onto the bed, he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the lighter he always kept there. With a flick of his wrist, the flame sparked, and soon the cigarette was lit, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

“Where were we?” he asked, exhaling smoke through his nose as his free hand lazily threaded through your hair.

“I was about to suck your cock.” you replied, your voice thick with hunger as you moved closer to him, leaning down.

“Really?” His eyes gleamed through the haze of smoke.

“Mhm.” you hummed as your lips brushed against the length of him, trailing soft kisses down to his balls, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Just as you were about to take him into your mouth, Alex’s hand on your head tightened slightly, guiding you further down with a low, throaty chuckle. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” he said, his voice dark and commanding, pushing your head lower until your lips dragged against the sensitive skin beneath his balls. He was taking control, making you follow the path he wanted.

Your tongue flicked out, tracing along that soft, delicate skin, and you could feel him shudder beneath your touch, his legs twitching slightly as you moved lower. He guided you down until your mouth was pressed between his thighs, your tongue now lapping at his hole, and you felt his body stiffen, his hips arching up slightly as you began to work your tongue deeper.

“Oh, fuck…that’s good.” Alex moaned, his voice low and thick as he tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded as he took another slow drag from his cigarette. His legs spread wider, giving you better access, and you buried your face between his thighs, licking at him with slow strokes, your chin brushing against the sheets beneath him as you adjusted to the not-so-comfortable angle. But the way he reacted, the low groans, the way his hips rocked up, the tension in his thighs, made it all worth it.

His hand left your hair after a moment, drifting down to his own cock. He didn’t grab it, didn’t stroke himself like you expected. His fingers only danced lightly over the tip, just barely brushing against that sensitive patch of skin right where the head met the shaft. His movements were soft, teasing, focusing on that delicate spot as your tongue worked him lower.

He groaned again, his body going taut under your touch, smoke curling from his lips as his free hand brought the cigarette back up for another lazy drag. The sight of him, smoke swirling around him, his hand moving lightly over his cock, his head tilted back in pure pleasure, was almost enough to undo you completely.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of his pleasure, soft moans, the wet drag of your tongue, the faint crackle of his cigarette, and you knew you had him exactly where he wanted to be.

His body tensed, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as he took another drag from his cigarette, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sensation of your tongue working against him deepened. He could feel the slow burn building, not just in his chest from the nicotine but lower, much lower, where you were focused. The need was overwhelming, coursing through his veins like fire.

Without an ashtray in reach, he glanced down at the cigarette between his fingers. His free hand moved instinctively, smushing the lit end between his fingertips, snuffing it out. The brief sting of the burn barely registered compared to the other burn, the one spreading hot and fast in his groin. The smouldering heat inside him made everything else fade into the background.

He groaned, his hips shifting slightly, the frustration building. He needed more. His hand finally moved to his cock, wrapping tightly around the base of it with a desperation that made him shudder. The moment his fingers closed around his shaft, he started stroking, slow at first but with an urgency that quickly picked up. The slick glide of his hand, combined with your tongue working him, had him right on the edge in seconds.

“Ah-” he moaned, the sound breaking in his throat as his hips jerked up. His hand pumped faster now, fingers curling around the thickness of his cock, stroking himself with that perfect rhythm that matched the tension tightening in his body. The burn was overwhelming, pleasure searing through him as he fucked his fist, every nerve alight with sensation.

His head fell back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut as he lost himself to it, the low sound of his moans filling the room. You could feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs twitching with each stroke of your tongue, his hips lifting off the bed as he chased his release, completely undone.

“Fuck…” Alex groaned, the word dragging out as his body seized, the tension finally snapping as he came hard, his hand freezing mid-stroke. His hips jerked, his muscles tightening beneath your touch as the wave of release crashed over him. His breath hitched, his mouth falling open in a silent moan as his cock pulsed in his hand, spilling over.

But you didn’t stop.

Your tongue kept working him, soft and slow, dragging through the sensitive skin, tracing the shape of him, coaxing out every last tremor. You could feel how he was still twitching beneath you, his body tense with the intensity of it all, but you stayed on him, guiding him through the aftershocks with gentle strokes of your tongue.

“Fuck, babe…” he panted, his voice ragged and hoarse, hips shaking as he tried to come down from it. His hand dropped from his cock, fingers curling weakly into the sheets, surrendering to the pleasure you were still drawing out of him. His entire body shuddered, helpless against the lingering sensation, the overstimulation bordering on too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

You felt him go limp beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, chest heaving. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, and he looked utterly wrecked, like he’d been pulled apart and put back together. 

But the faint, satisfied smile on his lips told you he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but another wave started building, this time weaker, more drawn out. His cock twitched, untouched, his overstimulated nerves firing in ways he couldn’t explain.  

His hand weakly gripped the sheets, knuckles going white as he fought to stay in control. “Fuck, I’m coming again-” he choked out, his voice barely audible, broken by the overwhelming sensation washing over him. His hips rocked forward, and you could see the weak pulse of his cock as he came again, almost dry this time, but the release was there, shuddering through him, softer but just as intense in its own way.

He groaned low and deep, a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest as he tried to ride out the last of it, but it was too much. His thighs trembled, everything twitching inside of him as you kept working him, your tongue relentless even as his body gave out beneath you.

Finally, with a shaky breath, he reached down, fingers tangling in your hair. “Enough…fuck- stop.” he gasped, his voice hoarse, almost pleading as he gently pushed your head away. His thighs squeezed together instinctively, the overstimulation becoming unbearable, every nerve firing at once. 

His body curled slightly as his thighs closed, legs trembling as he tried to recover, his breath ragged and uneven. His head fell back against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as he let out one last deep, satisfied groan. 

You crawled over him slowly, your body aching but buzzing with satisfaction, the heat between you both still thick in the air. Your hand reached up, fingers raking through his dark hair, now slick and wet from the sweat and heat of everything that had just transpired. His chest rose and fell under you, his breath still uneven, but his eyes, even though almost closed, were soft, almost tender. Even with the black eyeliner smeared around his eyes, and the dried blood smeared across his chin, he looked impossibly perfect. 

He glanced up at you, his lips curling into a tired smirk as his hand slid up your side, gently pulling you down to him. “Come here.” he murmured, his voice rough from all the moaning and the exhaustion that was starting to creep in.

You leaned in, his grip on your waist guiding you as you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft, surprisingly so. Almost innocent, if that was even possible after everything you’d just done together. His mouth moved gently against yours, tasting of smoke, sweat, and the faintest hint of what had passed between you. His hand wandered lazily, stroking your back as he kissed you with a sweetness that felt entirely out of place but perfectly right.

Your fingers stayed tangled in his hair, still damp as you kissed him back, enjoying the soft pull of his lips, the quiet intimacy of the moment. 

He sighed into it, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes half-open, the smirk now replaced with something softer. “You wrecked me.” he muttered with a chuckle, his thumb lazily tracing a line down your spine under the dress you still had on. 

You smiled, your heart still pounding as you kissed him again, lighter this time, just a brush of lips. “You loved it.” you whispered back, feeling how utterly spent he was beneath you.

a/n: ehhhhhh…i only like the second part that’s more about him but yeahhh…

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy

ethan landry x reader

warnings: a little bit of plot, smut obv, fingering, blowjob, “nipple play” like barely, and ethan’s a lowkey sub

notes: i watched scream 6 yesterday and i had to like this man is just so fine. also this takes place at the party so technically he isn’t ghostface just yet so we’ll leave it at that. just a normal college boy :)

if you like this lmk what other stuff you’d want to read for ethan, in need of prompts!!!

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

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it was halloweekend and you and your friends came to a frat party. you and tara had dressed as pirates just grabbing stuff that was left around. the party was going pretty well, well until you took a long swig of a bottle of pink whitney and ran upstairs after seeing your ex hooking up with this girl that was “just a friend”, what a load of bullshit. you went into the nearest unlocked room, closing the door behind you and locking it.

“fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, “fuck me in the fucking ass.”

you turned around to go sit down on the bed and there sat ethan, well a rather red faced ethan after your remark, just looking at you. ethan was a part of your friend group, the cute dorky guy. his cardboard robot costume was littered on the floor, leaving him in his joggers and a shirt. you were surprised he wasn’t somewhere with chad getting a pep talk to finally talk to a girl.

“hey,” he greeted giving you a small wave as if you two weren’t the only people in the room.

“god were you gonna say anything sooner I didn’t know anyone was in here,” you answered as you walked over and sat in front of him while his back was against the headboard.

“oh sorry, my bad.”

“nah it’s fine, worse shit has happened to me tonight that’s for sure.”

“like what,” he inquired.

“well for starters my ex is fucking the bitch that he said he was “just friends” with during our whole relationship so,” you responded hurriedly and angrily.

“oh i’m so sorry, that’s messed up.”

“yes it is, welcome to my life pretty boy”

you hadn’t meant to say the nickname out loud but that long drink was starting to hit you and you couldn’t care less at the moment. ethan blushed at your comment, looking down unable to meet you eye.

“hey,” you told him, “look at me.”

you grabbed both sides of his face with your hands and giggled, “such a pretty boy with pretty lips.”

at this point ethan was bright red and speechless, just muttering words trying to form a sentence, “l-l-l-look i think you’re drunk.”

“i’m fine, anyways i have a question.”

“ok,” he gulped, “what’s up.”

with your answer you pulled his head closer to you own, lining your lips up right next to his ear, “do you think it’s fair that my ex gets to fuck someone tonight and i don’t?”

as you finished your sentence you could feel ethan’s breath hitch in his throat, it made you smile. you moved his head back in front of you so you were face to face once again.

“is it?,” you reiterated

ethan quickly shook his head no, unable to speak. with your hands still on his neck you moved his head closer to you once again but this time your lips were only an inch away.

“i couldn’t hear you pretty boy, i said do you think it’s fair that i don’t get fucked tonight.”

“n-no,” he answered quickly.

“great, glad to know we’re on the same page,” you said quickly as you brought his lips to yours and kissed him.

you could tell he was shocked by the suddenness of the kiss because his lips were kind of stiff but moments later they melted into the kiss. you led the kiss, poking your tongue past his lips to entangle his tongue with your own, and with this you could hear his moans. it was music to your ears. without breaking the kiss you moved to straddle his waist, as his hands fell to your own, lowering yourself on his clothed length that was hardening by the second. this pressure caused him to let out a grunt into the kiss as he bucked his hips, hitting your center. you tangled your hands with the curly hair at the nape of his neck, yanking it back towards the headboard, separating the kiss so you were looking in each other’s eyes. both of you were breathing heavily, ethan’s lips all pink and swollen from your kissing, fuck he was so hot. breathless he looked up at you while you took off your vest to reveal yourself in a white shirt that you’d spilled on earlier at the party. with no bra on your nipples were exposed through the fabric and you think ethan may have died right then and there.

he began to move his hands from your waist up the sides of your body until they rested right next to your tits. he looked at you as he slowly took one hand to grope one of them. you bit your lip at this feeling, as his hands were both rough and soft as he kneaded your tit. watching you still he swiped his thumb across your clothed nipple earning a lustful reaction. you moaned and muttered curses under your breath, with you head rolling back. he took this as encouragement to continue. he resumed with both hands massaging and kneading your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples now and then. all this made your core ache as you felt the wetness pooling between your legs, you rolled your hips against ethan’s dick chasing some sort of friction. you took your top off and laid your tits bare to him. and he took this opportunity to latch his lips to one of your nipples, nibbling and swirling his tongue around it while still playing with the other. your body jolted at this sudden rush of pleasure, you couldn’t keep quiet,

“oh fuck ethan,” you moaned as he licked you nipple.

breaking his contact with your tit you bring his face to yours once again and resume the kiss, the rhythm much faster and fervent this time. your lips molded together perfectly with the occasional moan into the kiss as ethan still played with your nipples. you reached under his shirt, looking for bare skin to touch and you felt the ridges of his abs fuck you forgot how ripped he was. you broke the kiss to pull his shirt off his head needing to see his bare chest. after it was off he leaned forward to reconnect your lips but you pushed him back,

“my turn.”

and you leaned forward placing kisses on his neck as he moaned in response. you sucked on special spots, sure to leave a mark that’d show later. it was so hot hearing him moan under your touch, he bucked his hips as you kissed under his ear in hopes of some sort of friction. as you continued to kiss all over his body your hand trailed to the waistband of his sweatpants, tracing his v-line into the article of clothing. you palmed his clothed length feeling him jolt underneath your touch,

“oh oh my god,” he breathlessly moaned unable to come up with any other words.

suddenly you felt his hand creep under your skirt and onto your own bundle of nerves, massaging the mound through your panties.

“oh ethan,” you moaned

wanting to touch more of him you reached your hand into his joggers until his own grabbed your wrist and stopped you. confused you looked up at him tilting your head slightly.

“umm,” he muttered quietly, “i-i wanna do you first.”

with his hand still on your heat he began to rub over your clothed center once again. you hummed in agreement as his fingers sent shocks through your body. you soon reconnected the kiss, wanting to feel him on your lips as he played with your pussy. you felt him drag your panties to the side, exposing your bare cunt directly to his fingers. this new feeling caused you to jolt up but you felt his other hand on your waist holding you down. he swiped his finger through your arousal and around your entrance until he dipped his middle finger into the hole, burying it deep inside you. you loudly gasped, pulling away from the kiss as you jolted up a bit.

“oh my god, did that hurt, i’m so sorry, shouldn’t have done that,” ethan rambled

he began to remove his hand from your cunt until you stopped him.

“don’t fucking move.”

you pushed yourself back down onto his finger, moaning the entire way down. he watched as you squirmed on top of his hand until he was fully inside you again.

“pretty boy please move your finger,” you teased.

ethan quickly snapped out of his daze and began to finger you slowly, curling his finger so he was pressing on the bundle of nerves that had built up over this time.

“another…” you spoke breathlessly, “another finger.”

he obliged sliding his ring finger into you, the new pressure began to spur you towards the edge but there’s something you still needed.

practically fucking yourself on his fingers you whined, “faster ethan, you need to go faster. you’re not gonna hurt me.”

and that simple ask was all it took for him to rapidly increase his pace. he immediately started to pound his fingers into you, curling them repeatedly to hit your spot.

you cried out, “fuck oh my- i’m gonna cum,” and this only spurred him on as he captured one of your tits in his mouth and violently sucked on your nipple.

and suddenly you froze, your pussy clenched around ethan’s fingers and your legs felt weak as your orgasm ripped through you. your head fell onto his chest out of exhaustion, and his fingers were still inside you through your high as you clenched violently around them. you kissed him softly, a bit tired after your insane orgasm. slowly you pulled his hand out from under you, gasping at the loss of his fingers inside of you. you placed his middle and ring finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around them, cleaning them of your arousal. he looked at you, mouth wrapped around his fingers and felt a twitch in his pants. he breathed heavily as you pulled yourself off of his fingers and he pulled you in for a kiss, tasting you on your own tongue. as you made out you moved your hand once again to palm his clothed dick but wasted no time reaching into his pants. you felt his bare length, veins bulging as you felt his tip was already leaking insane amounts of precum. he shuddered viciously into the kiss under your touch.

“you’re big pretty boy,” you whispered into his ear as you swiped your finger over his slit that was leaking precum.

“oh my god,” he started as you began to move your hand up and down his shaft slowly. he roughly groaned, shifting on the bed as you began to speed up. you watched him intently with his eyes screwed shut and heavy breathing. you spit down between the two of you, onto his cock so your hand would glide better on his skin. this unfamiliar feeling caused ethan to buck his hips, fucking himself into your hand.

“oh fuck i’m gonna- oh my god,” he groaned as he finished in your hand, eyes screwed shut and his dick twitching as he shot out loads of cum onto your stomach. you kept pumping him through his orgasm until he was whimpering and letting out a string of profanities under his breath.

he didn’t even know how hot he was, sitting there violently moaning as he came all over you, god you needed him. as he opened his eyes, you grabbed his face and placed a couple pecks to his lips.

“you’re cute when you cum pretty boy,” you said to him, making him turn red immediately.

you pulled him closer to you and kissed him thoroughly once again until you both heard a violent knock on the door, causing you both to jump.

“ethan are you in there, it’s chad we gotta go, her ex pissed her off and we can’t find her,” spoke the voice.

ethan looked at you and responded still out of breath, “ok yea i’ll be out in a second, just gimme a minute.”

“alright,” chad responded.

as his footsteps faded away before getting off ethan’s lap you whispered to him, “you owe me a fuck.”

[ind1col1te]

Gojo!AU

Idol!Gojo who’s reputation is so bad, that any idol that he is seen with immediately gets in a scandal, or worse, gets kicked out. If only his attitude and reputation was as good as his music and dancing, maybe then his reputation would have been better. But after a random 2 year hiatus, fans of his had been shocked when he showed up with a ring on his finger and you, the new innocent idol, the Lily of the industry, at his side. Fans expected the worst, and continued to be suspicious of you two, until another short hiatus later he showed up with a fluffy white haired boy on his shoulders and you waddling behind him, heavy with his children.

"For the last fucking time, I am NOT dressing in a hotdog costume for the award show!"

"Pleaseeee?"

"Gojo, our hiatus just ended, we CANNOT show up like that!"

You had some peculiar moments on your phone of loserbf!Gojo doing things that you knew he would deny later, such as having a full blown argument with your razor after you got cut, or practicing how to call your male gynecologist, and yell at him, only to end up rambling a “Hello” and a “Good day”, before cutting the call, not realizing that not only did he call the wrong gynecologist, he also called the wrong fucking country.

“H-hello…Good day isn’t it? Goodbye.”

“Well…that certainly went well.”

”Shut up!”

“You called the wrong gynecologist.”

“Oh. It’s fine.”

“In Kenya.”

“So?”

“WE LIVE IN TOKYO!”

You better be prepared for this one, because oh boy was bestfriend!Gojo the bane of your existence. With random questions at 3AM to trying to fit into your clothes which clearly did not fit him, you were sure he was trying to give you grey hairs early.

“For the last fucking time, I don’t fucking know if the fruit orange came first or the color! Now fuck off and let me sleep.”

“Ok but did you know-“

“GOJO”

[reverieblondie]

Costume Party

Pairing: Peter B. Parker X Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with some Plot, Exhibitionism, Praise, Mask-Kink, Protected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Fingering, Pining.

Summary: At a costume party you run into a guy with a very impressive Spider-Man costume....He seems familiar...

A/N: So, I am not ashamed to admit it! I think Peter B is hot and needs more fics about him. For this story MJ and Peter are divorced. If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Miguel here.

Word Count: 6,245 (Not edited very well, sorry)

“I can't believe how crowded this place is, it’s not even Halloween yet?” 

You shout in the crowded bar filled with an array of costume-clad people. It was a week before Halloween and people were already out and about getting the Halloween festivities into full swing. Your friend Bea laughs at your remark.

“Well some people are trying to get the most out of their costumes, it's no fun you only get one night to enjoy it.”

“Like Mallory?” pointing your finger to the dance floor you see your friend Mallory dressed as an amazing Jason Voorhees tearing it up on the dance floor drawing in a crowd. Let's just say Mallory takes Halloween very seriously. 

Taking a moment just to appreciate your friend Bea breaks the silence, “Never thought I would see Jason twerking…” 

“You have to love her enthusiasm” you respond hypnotized by the slight. 

“Well Kitty Cat, I think Jason could use a dancing partner and Barbie is just the right person. Are you going to join us?” Bea dressed as cowgirl Barbie begins to dance over to Mallory as she keeps her eyes on you for your answer. 

“You two go for it, I'm going to walk around, maybe get some fresh air..” 

With that Bea gives you a nod and starts dancing with Mallory, rewarding you with the image of Barbie dancing with Jason Voorhees. Not being much for dancing you start walking around the party and watching the different costume-clad people having fun and interacting. There are Vampires, Werewolves, Nurses, disgraced celebrities, and ghouls galore! Costumes ranged from professional cosplayer level to a dude in a Spider-Man tee shirt and a plastic mask. No judgment though you went the basic route with your costume going as a sexy kitty, a costume that Mallory had loaned you from her vast collection. 

Mallory being the Halloween fanatic had invited you and Bea to this costume party at a popular club and with it being October, of course, it was a costume party. Not minding too much you had Mallory pick out a costume for you and off to the club you went. 

In all honesty, you needed a party to attend, work was starting to stress you out due to your boss being well a dick. Now three hours in the club is in full swing, the crowded floor and booming music all though enjoyable was starting to give you a slight headache. So needing to find a way to soothe your headache you decide to go outside to get some first air. 

Pushing your way through the club you find a backside door. Perfect! Haphazardly swinging it open, you hear a smack followed by a low groan. Quickly stepping out in the cool night air you see a guy in a very impressive Spider-Man costume rubbing his hand over his nose. Shit- 

Feeling guilty you rush over apologizing profusely, “Oh, I am so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Why are you swinging doors open so-” The masked man quickly stops mid-sentence looking at you in what seems to be a surprise, you can only assume due to the mask covering his face, but the white lenses grow wide looking at you so it tipped you off. Clearing his throat he finally looks away before speaking, “I’m fine don’t worry about it”

“Well I feel bad I smacked you pretty hard, is it broken?” You try reaching for the mask to lift it but he quickly holds his hands up moving away and stopping you. 

“I’ve taken worse hits, it’s no big deal really” He lifts his mask and reveals his lips and the tip of his nose. “See, not even bleeding,” he says with a slight smile. 

Woah, diggin the scruff there my guy, plus that cute smile? You couldn’t help yourself from blushing slightly. He lowers his mask again, seeming to be leaving but you interject. “Um Wait, I still feel bad! Maybe I can buy you a drink? To make up for my reckless door opening?” 

He seems to think for a moment, rubbing his hand on his chin. Watching as he eyes you for a moment, you can't see his eyes but you have a feeling he is talking to you all in. Adjusting your skirt you give a sweet smile trying to persuade him. 

“You're not going to hit me again, are you? kitty?”

The playful pet name has you biting your bottom lip quickly. Okay, flirt. Not knowing the way that costume is showing off his arms, the playful teasing, or maybe it's the mask but you're intrigued by him.  

 “Not unless you give me a reason too” you playfully say, opening the door and turning back for him to follow you in.  

“Well I will tread carefully then,” he follows closely behind you. 

Making your way with Spider-Man in tow, you push past all the different ghouls. Finally making your way to the bar you hand him a menu looking through one yourself. “Just try to steer away from the top shelf please.” 

This gets a laugh out of him as he leans against the bar, something about his laugh seemed familiar in a way but you couldn't place it. “I thought you were making up for hitting me with a door?” 

“I am, but you didn't bleed, if you had bled you could have gotten top shelf.” You tease and it causes him to laugh more, you're kinda surprised by yourself flirting with a random stranger but there is something about him that you just can't help it. The bartender finally makes their way over to you two, inquiring about your orders. Spidy orders an Old-fashioned while you order a Sbagliato, you can’t let him drink alone now, could you? 

Receiving your drinks you two sip and start chatting, common small talk, but both of you dance around the obvious question ‘What's your name’. Lost in the conversation you're just drinking the tall man in. Two things circle your mind as he talks; One you're really into the way his lips curl against the glasses rim and two his costume is really impressive now that you look at it closer. 

Spider-Man, New York's favorite hero, has become one of the most popular costumes. They ranged from kids' costumes to adults and even offered a sexy Lady Spider costume that you have seen a few times tonight. But this guy's costume was impressive. Not only did it look high quality, but it was like it was designed just for him to show off his assets. Was he completely jacked? No, but those strong arms and solid chest still had you blushing.

“I like your costume, Spider-Man he's a good one” This catches his attention and he looks towards you before responding. “You don’t think it's a bit…Overdone?” 

You chuckle “Maybe, But I'm dressed as a sexy kitty. I can't exactly judge someone on having an overdone costume.” This causes him to laugh sliding closer to you. “Plus, your costume is really impressive, looks professional quality.” reaching over lightly brush your fingertips across the web pattern.

“Well, I like your costume, I think you pull it off well, the ears are a nice touch” he turns to look at you and you can feel your face blush from the compliment. For a moment you feel his hand slightly graze your lower back, but it's only for a second before he moves away taking a long sip of his drink. Poor thing wants to flirt but doesn't want to seem like a creep. Giving him some reassurance to the flirting you squeeze his forearm feeling his muscle. 

“So, is the mysterious guy thing a technique of yours?”

He looks at you with a crooked smirk “What do you mean?” 

“You know, the whole masked man thing? Flirting with girls but never revealing who you really are, keeping us as strangers.” 

“Are you sure we are strangers?” he quickly interjects. oh? 

“Are we not?” you inquire with a smirk, something about him is familiar but you still can't place it.  

“Well, we have been talking for a while now, I think we have at least turned to acquaintances by now.” ah, that's what he means. “Well, I usually know my acquaintances' faces.” 

He leans in more, his mask still lifted showing off his grin “Well, what's the excitement in that?” 

-----

Now you're not exactly sure how you ended up in a dark booth but here you are still talking to your mystery man, he was right about the excitement, it made the flirting and slight touches just a little bit better.  

“I swear if my boss wasn't riding someone's ass he would die!” throw your head in your hands, somewhere in between small talk and flirting work was mentioned and you took the chance to vent. As you are ranting you feel a finger brush against your cheek then tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. You stop talking and feel all your breath escape you, his soft touch has your heart racing. 

Sliding closer to you he's whispering in your ear “You know kitty cat, it sounds like you need some stress relief…” -oh, word? 

“Is that so? And how are you going to relieve my stress?” I ask arching my back to lean in closer

Leaning in, he plays with a strain of your hair, he's so close to you know you feel his warm breath tickling your ear. The warmth radiating off him just causes you to shudder in excitement. “I figured I could fuck you so good you forget about your job…” 

The bluntness of his comment has your skin tingling with a sudden rush. With a shaky breath you respond, “T-that's big talk For s-someone who hasn’t even kissed me yet…” 

“Well then, let me kiss you,” he gently grabs your chin and brings you closer to his lips. Feeling the heat of your body rising to a fever you lean in with half-lidded eyes lips in a slight pout waiting for him to kiss your flushed face. Even though you can't see his eyes you can see the smile stretching to his lips and the blush starting to creep across what you can see of his face. 

“Please” is all you can whimper before he gently leads his lips to yours, the kiss is slow but intense. It made your body feel like you were on fire only to be cooled by his hands sliding up your thighs to then grip your hips bringing you closer. 

One of his hands plays with the hem of your skirt before slipping under to brush gently against your ruined panties, causing a quick gasp to escape your lips. Taking his opportunity he slips his tongue past your lips allowing him to taste you, while his finger pushes harder against your clothed folds pushing the ruined fabric further against your clit. 

Breaking away from the kiss you whine breathlessly as he continues to brush against your wet cunt. “We’re in public…” 

He just smirks as he slips his finger under your underwear running his long finger over your dripping slit, this causes a sudden moan to rip through you,  “shh, I know, your going to have to be quiet, there are other people around kid..” his honeyed voice teases as he continues to slowly push his finger in to curl into you. 

Shaking your head no you can't help but tighten and squirm as he touches you. Unable to contain yourself by letting out quiet moans as your wetness starts dripping down his fingers. Wanting to push you over the edge he starts rubbing tight circles at your clit with his thumb, which has your head being thrown back with a gasp. 

Ever the opportunist you're figuring out he kisses and licks your neck up to your ear. “Shh, We could go somewhere more private if you want?” 

Breathless trying to keep your cool you can only release a ‘mhmm’ before he's pulling his finger out of your weeping slit. Before you can complain you see him take his coated finger in his mouth, shutting you up. Surviving around he sees an empty-looking bathroom and nods his head towards it. Eyes completely blown, face fulling red you can only nod in agreement. 

Chuckling at your lustful expression he adjusts your cat ears on your head. Downing his drink he takes your hand and leads you out of the booth, he walks behind you and whispers in your ear, “I’m going to take such good care of you, such a good girl, you deserve to be taken care of” his soft phrases have you melting and eager to get him alone. 

 Before you can get to the bathroom, you quickly stop remembering something important, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. 

“I will meet you over there. I have to get something from my friend really quickly.”

He pulls you for a kiss and bites your bottom lip when he pulls away. “Hurry, I need to make you feel good.” 

Nodding quickly you run off to go find your friend. Looking like a mad woman you're scanning all over the club for your friends till you see a shoulder-shimming Jason and you quickly make your way over. 

“Mallory, I need to get something from you!”  you say desperately as she continues to dance.

“Nuh uh call me by my name please” she teases as he swings her hips around.

“Uhhg, Jason I need a condom” 

Mallory suddenly stops dancing and slowly turns to you. “Excuse me-“

“Just give me the fucking condom!” You say you are fully frustrated, you have a sexy man wanting to ravish you, you don't have time for any teasing, you're hot and horny and need to go!

Mallory looks at you confused before reaching into her wallet and giving you the contraceptive. Before you can rush off she grabs your arm. “Just know you wouldn’t survive a horror movie.” 

Giving a quick ‘Thank you’ you run off to Spider-Man.

———

Rushing back you see him leaning against the wall near the bathroom. As you approach he is quick to grab your hand and lead you in. As soon as you're through the door he's locking it and pressing burning kisses to your lips backing you up to the cold wall. Gasping at the feeling of his hands slowly rubbing all over your curves he makes you wetter. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles as he brings you away from the wall, bending you over on the sink's counter in front of the mirror. Quickly peeling away your shirt he kisses up your spine and massages your breast. You can't help but push your ass into his strained cock feeling him twitch as you rub against him. placing his hand on your jaw he lifts your head to face the mirror. Kissing along your neck, Confused you go to make a snarky remark “What am I ah-”

A moan rips through you as two fingers are slipped through your puffy folds into your slit stretching you open instantly. He can only chuckle and he moves his lips to your shoulder, kissing you as he sinks knuckle-deep into your tight cunt. Moans slip from your lips as the stretch he's causing you, and this is only his fingers.

 After a single moment for you to adjust to his fingers, he curls them into you looking into the mirror watching as your face contours in ecstasy. “Nuh uh, Kitty, keep those eyes open, look at how gorgeous you are….” 

Shooting your eyes open you see his mask eyes on you with his lips cooing sweet words while he pushes faster into you curling slow and deliberate. Mouth hanging open you start to push your hips into his hand more.

“Oh, that feels good huh kid? You work so hard, like a good girl…”

.

All you can do is nod as you approach your high, feeling yourself clench around him approaching your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, I do work hard…” you moan out watching him through the mirror. He smiles and hums pushing you down further spreading your legs out further, now hitting your sweet spot. You can't help how you're moaning, and he just smiles like your moans are music to his ears. 

“A good girl like you, I can tell you do, ride my fingers till you cum, you deserve it….” Being supported by the squelching sound of your wet cunt and his sweet phrase you start rocking yourself back and forth faster and faster, slamming his long fingers into your dripping wet cunt. Chasing your high the orgasm rips from you and you cream all over his digits. It drips down his fingers falling to the floor. 

“Cumming so pretty for me,” he coos and he takes your costume off, you're still coming down from your high so you lazily watch through lidded eyes as he strips your skirt and panties off. Then swiftly peels down his suit and pulls his cock out and it's already pebbling with pre cum. Pumping his cock he watches your aroused clit swell and your spend slit clench around nothing. While rolling on the condom he coos at you. 

“You want to cum again?”

Watching him pump himself you let out a whine of yes arching your back to entice him to put it in. Chuckling he gathers your arousal around his cock teasing you further. 

 “Please! I need it!” 

“Oh? You need it alright, going to make it where you won’t forget about this cock kitty cat. Now look forward, I want those pretty eyes watching me.” 

Sliding into you smoothly his cock stretches you deliciously making you moan as he pushes further, filling you up. Your hands splay out over the sink counter, it's pure bliss that makes your mind clear of all the bullshit you have had to endure till this moment. Forget him fucking you so good you forget your job you're forgetting everything. He slowly starts his positioning into you, you can feel him resisting the urge to slam into you from the tight grip on your hips.  

“Oh your such a good girl for me, taking me so well”

He thrust into you faster into your messily wet cunt, His increased pace making your second high come all too quickly. Looking up you see him biting his lip as your pussy tightens around him, feeling him leaning over you, feeling sloppy kisses and nipping at your shoulders and neck as he rails into you deeper. Feeling his tip kiss your spot that has you seeing stars. 

“Don’t cum yet kitty, I want to feel you clench down on me more” his heavy breathing fans over your ear before he's kissing your earlobe. 

All you can do is whine as he keeps throbbing and pushing you. The shooting pleasure has your knees buckling and your body shaking. Moaning from you and him bouncing off the wall you feel him grab a handful of your hair and bring your eyes to the mirror. 

“Taking me so good, so good… ”  He thrust harder, losing all the remaining restraint he once had. Looking forward in the mirror your face is flushed, hair completely ruined, biting your lip hard. The knot in your stomach feels like it's about to burst. 

“Ah, I need to cum!” 

“Ah, cum on me baby,” 

Feeling your pussy clench tighter on him, his words make your knot snap as his cock throbs within you. Vision blurring your orgasm washes over you dramatically causing you to scream out and you make a mess all over his cock. Helping you ride your orgasm he reaches his fingers to your cunt he plays with it sending you further over the edge. 

Finally, with your cunt fluttering over him, you feel his cock throb and spurt while inside you reaching his high. Panting, he holds himself up on the contour, arms keeping you caged underneath him. It's quiet for a moment before he gently pulls out of you. Rubbing your back he carefully leans you up supporting you as you finally stand straight, your legs feel like jelly. 

As you catch your breath, he seems to have recovered mostly. Helping you get cleaned up, fixing your hair, and handing you your costume. As you get dressed you feel like you should say something to him, ask his name, ask for his number maybe? You want to see him again. 

“So um…” As you start to speak up he sees your nervousness. Quickly getting his costume back on he leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, then to your neck, moving to your ear lightly nipping at it to make you laugh. 

“I will see you next weekend on Halloween, here, okay?”

“Okay” 

With that, he puts his mask down helps you readjust your costume and walks you out of the bathroom. Before he leaves he whispers to you,” I can’t wait to see you again kid.” Kid…He keeps calling you that, it's familiar…

when you turn around to look back at him he’s gone.

——-

Typing away you are trying to get all of the meetings with the chief organized, you also have to organize all his paperwork, take all his calls, Go in and scribe for all his meetings or whatever rants he is making that you want you to write down. Then order him lunch, get his dry cleaning sent and delivered, and make sure he has dinner reservations to whatever place he's craving that night. All this while he is yelling at you to bring him coffee or whatever else he needs from around the newsroom. Working for J. Jonah Jameson was rough, especially as his assistant. 

While you are trying to get your work done you also have Bea in your ear, she was a copy editor at the Daily Bugle, however today she was ignoring her work, and all she could talk about was…

“I can’t believe it! I’m still in shock! You had sex with some random guy at the club!” 

People around your desk look at you two with puzzled expressions. Lowering your head you grimace “Yeah, why don’t you say it a little louder I don’t think the marketing department heard you.” 

Lowering her voice she continues to say “I’m sorry Y/N, I just can’t believe you hooked up with a random stranger at a club, that's pretty spontaneous…and you didn't see his face at all?” 

“Well, not fully I saw his lips and the tip of his nose…” 

“Kinky…so when you see him again are you going to wear a mask too?” rolling your eyes you look at her unamused “Are you done?” She laughs and hugs you as you continue to type. “For now until I think of more jokes or come to ask for more details.” 

During the hug, Jameson calls for you. Bea lets go of you and starts heading back to her department giving you a sad wave as she goes. Quickly rising from your desk grabbing your notepad just in case you hurry to your boss's office to see what he wants. Pacing in his office he is yelling at someone over the phone, a common tone for him. Jameson darts his scowl towards you and snaps at you, you quickly get ready to write something down but he shakes his hand and mouths the word ‘Coffee’ pointing to his empty mug. Ah, of course, go fetch him coffee. 

Backing away from the doorframe you suddenly feel that you are pressed against someone. Quickly turning your head to apologize, your breath catches in your throat. Smiling down at you, you're met with a familiar set of brown eyes that always makes you feel giddy, Peter B Parker. Carefully he places a hand on your waist gently moving you through the doorway. 

“Sorry kid, I have to squeeze past you,” he keeps his smile on you as he slips past. Once inside he takes his seat in front of Jameson's desk waiting for him to finish his call.

 As you're walking out you can't help but look over your shoulder to steal a glance of Peter, but when you do you catch Peter doing the same to you. Shooting you another smile you feel your face warm and quickly go to make your boss's coffee. 

Making your way back to Jameson's office, coffee made just how he likes you see that Peter is showing him his latest photos of Spider-Man. Glancing at the photos you are reminded of how talented Peter is, definitely one of the best freelance photographers that works for the paper. 

Honestly looking at some of the pictures you have to question how he was getting such incredible shots, he would never reveal his secret though. Peter had been gone for a couple of months, a nasty divorce apparently which made you rather sad. Peter was one of the nicest guys at the paper, he always talked and joked with you, treating you like an actual person, not everyone is always so nice. 

Now he was back you were excited that the Bugle would have some quality pictures and you got to see more of Peter again. Being honest with yourself you have a bit of a thing for him. Kind, super smart, incredibly funny plus not bad to look at either, how could you not end up with a crush? Though when you two first met he was married so that meant off limits, then the divorce happened and he did not take it well. Now that he's finally back he seems okay, you notice that he talks to you more and you two share more stolen glances but that could just be wishful thinking on your part. 

“Y/N!” Suddenly snapped from your thoughts you see your boss and Peter staring at you. 

“Yes sir?”

 Jameson rolls his eyes “I said quit your daydreaming and hand me my coffee!” Nodding you quickly hand him his coffee and decide that it’s time you took a break. 

--------

Plopping down in the breakroom you lazily look down at your coffee sighing. If only your masked stranger was here to relieve your stress again. Mind wandering back to that night you feel your face heat from what he said to you, how he touched you, his lips…lips…reminiscing back you think of that smile and the conversations, he seemed familiar? Especially that smile…and what did he mean when he said we might not be strangers? 

Face contorted in thought you fail to notice that Peter has walked into the breakroom. Reaching the top shelf Peter pulls down a mug and pours himself some coffee looking over at you he must see you lost in thought, “Penny for your thoughts?”

His voice startles you for a moment breaking your trance, Peter looks at you expectantly waiting for you to speak, You couldn’t repress the words flying from your mouth as you stared at Peter, “Would you fuck a stranger?”

“Uh, I mean I think I could manage it for sure. But I would hardly call us strangers?” He says with a smirk. Huh? -Deja vu

You roll your eyes you brush off the words with a laugh “It’s not a proposition it was just a question” 

“That’s a pretty specific question?” 

“Well, this weekend I was at a party and I met this guy…and he was so funny and charming that we, you know…” 

“Had sex” Peter says frankly finishing your sentence for you. 

“Yeah had sex” 

“Well sounds like your not strangers” 

“That’s the thing though, he kept his mask on…” 

Peter gives a long whistle “y/n? You are a freaky little thing aren't you?” 

Something about how he says that makes your body rush with excitement, it feels…familiar…shaking the feeling away you continue. 

“Do you think that's weird though? Like I didn’t see his full face at all.” 

Peter smirks to himself as he pours sugar and cream into his coffee. As he sits down he stirs his coffee listening to you ramble, “Well, I think it's up to you. Did you like it?” 

“I mean yeah, but it's still weird…but like a good weird, you know? It's exciting.” As you look up you see him listening intently to you, his eyes bright and smile soft, it makes your heart skip for a moment. 

“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about this, I'm sorry..”

“Doesn't bother me, I'm the one who asked '' He playfully nudges your arm and you can't help but giggle. “Are you going to see him again?” 

“Yeah, same place Halloween night…kinda nervous about it” 

“Why, I mean you two already had sex at the club?” 

“Yeah, wait…how did you know we had sex at the club?” you look towards him with furrowed brows. Peter looks surprised for a moment but quickly responds “I heard your friend talking about it.” -of course he did…

Sighing you put your head in your hands. Peter pats your back “It’s not that bad I don't think everyone knows…yet..”

With a pout you place your chin in your hand leaning on the table, “It's not that, it's the mystery guy.” 

“What, you don't want to see him again?” 

“I do, just…what if he doesn't want to see me again?” 

Looking down at your coffee you're kinda in shock that you're confessing all this to your office crush, who does that? But suddenly you feel a familiar gesture, a finger sliding across your cheek tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. Looking over to Peter you see that same smile, it's just like...You feel your face heat up. Peter's face looks equally flustered, quickly he moves his hand and grabs his coffee. Standing quickly he mutters how he has to go, before he's out the door he turns around, “he would be crazy not to want to see you again y/n” 

With that, he leaves you a blushing mess. 

--------

“I’ve seen several Spider-man, are you sure none of them are your guy?” Bea says, taking a sip of your drink and adjusting her large hat for her ‘sexy witch’ costume. 

“No, his costume is high quality like a professional,” you say with a slight lisp, feeling irritated that the fangs for your ‘sexy vampire’ costume are making you talk weirdly. You go to take them out but Mallory quickly stops you.

“Hey don’t take them out, it breaks the illusion!” you sigh and stare disheartened at your friend Mallory in her idea of a sexy costume ‘sexy Mothman’. 

Bea had begged us all to dress sexy this go round and you and Mallory begrudgingly agreed so Mallory helped you get your vampire costume and even decorated you up with some blood, while she did her twist to a sexy mothman. 

“Maybe he's not here? Running late?” Mallory questions

“The party is in full swing, maybe he's in the bathroom waiting for you,” Bea nudges playfully. 

Sudden realization hits you and you quickly chug your drink down. Bea and Mallory look at each other and then back to you once you're done. Finishing the drink you slam the glass on the contour, “I think I know where he is” 

At a hurried pace, you make your way from the bar in the back of the club to the back door where it all started. Nerves swirled around in your gut, you hoped he was here, you wanted to see him, feel him, talk to him. You didn't want this to be another one-night thing, you wanted to know who he was and you had an idea or well maybe it was just wishful thinking. Having a week to agonize about who he was you had a pricking thought of who you imagined him to be. 

Making it to the door that started it all, you take a deep breath, take out the fake fangs, and open the door carefully this time making sure it doesn't fly open to hit any unsuspecting Spider-Men. Making your way out the door you don't see anyone and it causes your heart to sink. He's not coming.  

Suddenly you feel a hand on your hip, while the other brushes your hair back to expose your neck. You are scared at first till you hear that same honeyed voice “Glad you learned to open doors carefully kitty.” 

Surrendering to his touch you let his lips caress your neck, “I'm not a cat anymore, I'm a vampire.” turning you see that half up spiderman mask with that same sly smirk, you wrap your arms around his neck “I see you're still Spider-Man” 

He laughs and backs you deeper into the alley pressing you against the wall “Well, I wanted you to be about to recognize me” 

His lips quickly find yours kissing you passionately. Feeling his hands on your ass he swiftly lifts you making, you instantly wrap your legs around him. Looking around you're a little surprised “Really? In the alley? You're kinda the expansionist huh?”

He quickly catches your lips in another searing kiss then you feel his hand eagerly pawing underneath your dress, and then he stops suddenly. “Oh, you're a dirty girl. No panties tonight?”  

“I figured they would get in the way,” you say with a playful shrug.

He quickly lifts your dress more and starts to finger your already wet cunt. Moaning and squeezing your legs tighter around him you give into the familiar stretch. 

“Already so wet for me, pretty girl you're just perfect for me.” 

Kissing on your neck he's already rutting into you, it seems like he's as eager as you are. Your soaked cunt was getting his suit's crouch wet as he continued to rub into you, maybe it was him or the fact that you two could easily get caught by a wandering pedestrian, but you were burning with need. 

“Please...I need you…” you beg breathlessly

He kisses your lips quickly putting his suit pants down. Looking at him confused he just smiles, “What? I made adjustments for easy access, just for you kid.” 

Finally freeing his cock he has you hold on tightly to him as he swiftly rolls a condom on. Safe sex is hot sex, right? While sucking and kissing your neck to your collarbones he rubs his cock in between your folds making sure you're wet and shaking with need. 

“Come on spidy, I need you…”

With the last bit of begging leaving your trembling lips, he pushes in between your folds into your soaked heat with a loud groan. Thrusting in and out of you you can't help but moan and clench down on his length.  

“Ah, y/n…you feel so good…” 

As soon as your name slips from his lips he stops his thrusting and stills. Looking down with wide eyes your mouth is agape, “did…Did you just say my name?” 

Hesitating for a moment he tries to find the words but suddenly he's met with your lips crashing down to his eagerly devouring him. With the passionate kiss, he fucks into you faster than before breaking the kiss and grabbing your ass hard to thrust into you harder. Getting all your breath thrust out, you can hardly speak as you approach your high.  

“So you know, ah, my name?” 

He nods breathlessly continuing his rutting, cock throbbing. “Yeah, your costume, doesn’t hide your identity, Fuck!” 

Throwing your head back from the feeling of how deep he is, your moaning and confessing your own secrets as he fucks your roughly. Your Orgasm is about to rip through you, stars blur your vision. 

“I know who, ah…who you are” 

Kissing along your neck he faces you and whispers to your lips, “Yeah? Say my name then..” 

Feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap it's now or never. Holding onto him tightly he's pushing his tip right into your sweet spot, bringing your moaning lips to his ear and whispering the name you're hoping to be him. 

“Peter, Peter B Parker '' While you say his name you grab the rest of his mask and reveal the rest of his face, you are met with those heart-melting brown eyes. And that sexy smirk. There he was in all his glory, your mystery man- Peter B 

“Well you're quite the little detective, you should get a reward kid…”  You smirk and give him a kiss rocking your hips into him as he thrust harder. Breaking the kiss you moan, “Just make me cum Peter!”

“Anything you want, pretty girl,” Rutting deeper and grunting heavily in your ear, your knot is snapped and you're creaming all over Peter's cock. Fucking you through your high he finally cums from your tight cunt clenching around him trying to milk him dry. 

Carefully he stands back up both of you staring and panting at each other. Peter quickly pulls your dress back down, then tucks his length away. His hands cup your face and he litters your face and neck with kisses, seems happy you figured his secret out. 

“Have any more secrets for me, Peter?” You say smugly holding up his mask. 

Peter smiles at you and takes the mask from you. Grabbing a hold of your hips once more he pulls you close to press against his chest. “I could tell you, or I could show you?” 

-This should be good…

[i-arch-my-backula]

Horror characters with a s/o who does ballet

I did ballet when I was like 4 before I was diagnosed with ADHD and I did enjoy it but I didn't keep doing it. I've just been thinking about ballet lately and I decided to write about it.

Includes: Hannibal Lecter, Asa Emory, Michael Myers, Vincent Sinclair, and Amanda Young

Warnings: GN reader mostly but one bullet on each section mentions a male reader, internalized homophobia?, regular homophobia, mentions of murder, mentions of saw traps in Amanda's section, mentions of torture, vague cannibalism in Hannibal's section

Hannibal Lecter

When you tell him you do ballet he's immediately interested. Hannibal enjoys the finer things in life and ballet is something he's happy to indulge in.

He's rich so he's happy to help pay for whatever you need. Ballet shoes can be very expensive but he's willing to help you pay for them.

Ballet is physically demanding and he's happy to help you sooth the aches and pains on your body. Will help you with ice baths or rubbing your aching muscles.

Will go to all of your shows, even if you're barely in it. He doesn't care he's going to be there to watch you dance, and will bring you flowers after every performance.

If you practice at home he's there to help you, giving his advice as someone who's been to many opera and ballet shows.

He probably has a lot of hair products for his hair because he's kind of a diva. So if you need hair gel or hairspray for your costume he's got your back.

If you're a man and someone makes fun of you for doing ballet they're getting eaten. I think he'd do something clever like a tongue dish or he poses the body in some kind of ballet pose.

Asa Emory

Like Hannibal Asa loves the finer things in life. He's pretty rich considering he has all these torture devices and a hotel. So you having a more expensive job/hobby is not a big deal to him.

He will try to sneak in bug related things into things you can customize. If you're doing a dance related to bugs in any way he's asking you all about it and will honestly want to make things as accurate as possible.

Will want to watch you practice because he just likes seeing you in dance and shift into different positions. He's always interested in human limits both physical and mental so seeing you stretch your body while dancing is interesting to him.

Like I said, Asa is rich and he doesn't have a problem buying you things for your job/hobby. If you're allowed to customize parts of your practice clothes or shoes he'll try to get it bug related in some kind of way.

He might take inspiration from your dancing and will pose victims or put them in traps that are ballet related.

He loves classical music so listening to you practicing with music over and over again isn't a problem to him. He's put himself through worse so listening to his partners dance music over and over again isn't that bad.

Just like Hannibal, if you're a man and someone makes fun of you for doing ballet he's going to put them through a lot of torture, like more than normal. He was a little unsure about you being a man and doing ballet but he got over it quickly.

Michael Myers

He's heard of ballet but the extent of his knowledge on it is just that it's 'fancy dancing'. Once he sees you dancing, because when he's not killing he's watching you, he's pretty interested in it. As interested as Michael can be in something.

He likes how graceful you look while dancing. He could watch you for hours, just sitting still and watching you dancing. He'll probably touch and feel your ballet shoes when you're not using them.

If you ask him to help you break in your shoes and explain to him you just hit them on the floor he's very willing to help you. You'll have to watch him to make sure he doesn't genuinely ruin them.

He's confused about how you're getting bruises and hurt feet when you're "just dancing" but his concern isn't really noticeable aside from him leaving out ice packs for you.

If you're doing a dance where you're being more 'physical' with your dancing partner he's going to be jealous about it. You'll have to make it up to him with lots of candy and avoiding other men.

If you're a man and you do ballet he doesn't see why that's something weird. He's been locked up inside a mental hospital for 16 years so he doesn't really understand gender roles.

But if someone makes you feel back for doing ballet as a man and Michael hears about it, he's killing them for you.

Vincent Sinclair

He is so interested in you doing ballet. He wants to hear all about the type of ballet you do and how long you've been doing it. If you memorized any dances he wants you to do them for him.

I have a feeling that Vincent can sew to some degree. Like he can take old clothes and customize them. He'll probably make/find you clothes you can practice in and maybe even costumes.

He listens to classical/opera music already so if you want to practice or perform for him it's really no problem at all to him.

Finding you actual ballet shoes might be an issue. He'd suggest making you some but quickly realize he can't. He'll bribe/guilt Bo into going out and getting you ballet shoes.

Will probably make some figures into ballet dancers because you're one. His art is going to include a lot more ballet themes in it. Will love to sketch you in different outfits and poses.

Anything remotely ballet themed from a victim is going to you. If Vincent sees some clothes or an item you'd like or could use in your dancing he'll tell Bo to be careful with that item when he kills them, or he'll kill the victim himself.

If you're a guy and a victim makes fun of you for doing ballet they're getting turned into a figure alive like Wayne was. If his brothers make fun of you cough cough Bo he'll defend you and probably bring up something about them. "You do ballet Y/N? Didn't take you for a pansy." (Vincent signing) "Remember your emo phase when you wore eyeliner every day?"

Amanda Young

She wanted to do ballet as a kid but she probably wasn't very good at it and her parents took her out. So when she hears you do ballet she wants to hear all about it and will ask if you can teach her some.

Loves any kind of ballet outfits, especially if it's in darker colors and adores seeing you in practice clothes or costumes for shows.

Will brag to Hoffman about how talented her partner is at ballet and how shes so lucky to have you as a partner.

She'll probably take inspiration from the dance you're currently practicing or the process of breaking in your shoes when she's making a new trap for someone.

Loves watching you practice too. She finds the movements so satisfying and the music to be calming. If you practice at home she'll probably stretch with you.

Will love to help you do your hair and or makeup for a performance. She likes participating in your interests and helping you get ready is something she's happy to do.

If you're a man and someone makes fun of you for doing ballet she's finding a reason to put them in a trap. Hoffman will probably make fun of you doing ballet if you're a man so she'll get back at him in another way.

[lovelyiida]

THINKING ABOUT HOW MUCH KIRISHIMA WOULD WANT YOU TO MATCH WITH HIM FOR HALLOWEEN, imagining the lengths he would go through to find that perfect outfit and show it to you, just for you to deny it.

"How about this one?"

"No."

"What about this one? I'm the plug and you're the socket!"

"Corny."

"How about I'll be a pirate and you can be a mermaid!"

"Mm... I feel like you're saying that because you want to be the mermaid."

A sigh escapes the redhead's mouth as he crashes on your bed in defeat. It's been several hours since he brought up the idea that both of you should match for the holiday, but you wouldn't budge. Either the ideas he gave were too corny or just painfully bad, and it was starting to hurt his feelings.

Both of you were invited to the annual UA Halloween bash; the whole school was attending, and everyone usually had on the best costumes. You didn't want to be rude, but you didn't want to be the peanut butter to his jelly, sadly.

Certainly, here's the improved version of the passage with corrected grammar and sentence structure:

"Hey, do you even want to match with me?" he says, shuffling closer to you. His face pressed against your stomach, he lets out a whine. Rolling your eyes, you then sigh.

"I don't know. I think this is the first time I've ever been able to dress up without someone else's opinion. I just want to be something really unique, not a basic couple's costume."

You run your fingers through Kirishima's red locks. You can tell he's upset by the visible silence that casts over the room.

"Kiri," you say. With a sigh, he turns around and looks into your eyes. "Hm?" he says, his tone flat and a little bit irritated.

"Don't be upset with me, babe," you say with a defeated smile. "You know I hate it when you're upset with me. Please say something," you add softly.

Kirishima lets out another drama-filled sigh and sits himself up. "I just thought that since this was the first party we would go to as a couple, you'd want to match. But I guess I was wrong." A frown visible on his lips soon disappears and forms into an understanding smirk.

"I bet I'll still have a better costume than you," he says with a mischievous smirk. The pressure from the previous conversation lifts, and a laugh escapes from you. "Yeah, okay. Wanna make a bet?" you say. Soon, the redhead climbs on top of you with a simple hum as a response.

"If I win, you're all mine for the next day, and you have to do everything I say," Kirishima says, but he cuts himself off by kissing your lips. "And! You have to match with me for the next party."

Giving him a nod, you then kiss him back with another peck. With a smug smirk you speak.

"If you lose, then it's vice versa... and I get to pick the stupidest costume there is known to mankind."

"The night of the party, it was hard to find your boyfriend. It felt like the whole entire school was there. Going through the area, seeing so many faces but none you could recognize, you finally spot a familiar face.

"Bakugo!"

The blonde soon turns around and looks you up and down, a smug smile plastered over his lips.

"Hey, looking for your boy-toy angel?" he says, all pun intended. You came to the party in an all-white costume with the cutest angel wings and a halo to match.

Rolling your eyes, your gaze lingers.

"Where is he?" you yell, the music blaring over your voice, making it hard to hear his response.

Grabbing your arm, Bakugo points over to the front of the room. With a nod, you venture over to the front of the room.

A crowd is still present, and you fight your way to the front. People thrashing their bodies and screaming to the lyrics make it even worse. Yelling out your boyfriends name, you look all around for him but he’s no where in sight.

Growing anxious from the blaring music and the suggestive stares you’ve been getting from multiple people you’ve passed; you grew anxious. Turning every which way to find him, you were about to break off into a jog until a strong hand grips you.

“Y/n!”

Turning around, you smile at the sight before you.

“Kiri!” You yelled in relief, throwing yourself onto Kirishima, you pull him into a tight embrace. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You laughed.

Pulling away, your eyes linger down to his body, seeing the costume he had on made your stomach drop.

“A devil” you say, voice filled with humorous disappointment. Looking back up, you watch your boyfriends’ shit-eating-grin grow wide.

“I told you we’d match!” He chuckled.

Rolling your eyes you reach your arms around his neck. The redhead pulls you in close, “let’s call a truce?” You say, looking into his auburn eyes. Kirishima lets out a groan, but looking back at you he couldn’t help but to smile.

“Truce.”

❥: @xo-evangeline , @nar00 , @king-dynamight , @gold24fish , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @urdecentartist09 , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @elegantvoids , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner, @snxwycloud , @skylardarling

[princess-glassred]

Imagine the losers club having to do an anti bullying PSA for school. Richie and Bev play the bullies, Eddie is the victim, Stan is the narrator, Bill writes it, Ben directs/edits it, and even though Mike doesn't go to school with them they let him hold the boom mic. Also Georgie begs Bill to let him help out too so he begrudgingly lets him be an extra.

Richie is late to set and nobody can get a hold of him until he saunters onto set in a shitty Henry Bowers cosplay, complete with awful mullet wig that is really just two wigs his mom sewed together for him. Bro walked up to set looking like It the musical Henry.

Everyone's acting is really stitled and bad since they're literal children, Bev is the only one who knows how to emote. It's got all the typical 1980's cheesy video effects and music cues you'd expect. Bill keeps rewriting the ending because he can't decide how to give Richie and Bev's characters comeuppance for picking on Eddie. When they finally do get a good take the camera dies so they gotta do it all over again.

It only gets worse when Henry drops by to be an asshole for no reason and he's so confused by Richie's costume that he just stares at him and abruptly leaves.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— MY LOVE WILL NEVER DIE

SUMMARY : part II of heartbreak feels so good. dean hasn’t seen her in two years, but there she is on Halloween this time, and she fulfils one of his most questionable fantasy.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS :  charlie bradbury, daphne castillo (aka. sexy elf girl)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, unprotected sex (jail), slapping, angst, fellatio, dirty talk

WORD COUNT : 5.2k

A/N : from Dean’s POV. I’m such a liar! here’s part two after I said there would only be one part, @smellingofpoetry :] XXXXXXX

“Come on, Dean,” Charlie laughed, taking Dean’s hand to tug him into the unnecessarily big house. Dean planted his feet firmly on the icy grass, stopping his best friend from pulling him inside. “You’ve sulked over… it long enough. Try to find someone else here,” she suggested, letting go of Dean’s warmer hand. 

Dean stared at her, her fiery red hair, her somehow soft, blueish eyes, dressed similarly as him in a knight costume. He bit his lip, she knew that he hadn’t seen anyone in the past two years. He was getting grumpier, and grumpier, and as much as she wanted to help him, he didn’t have it in him to find someone else after the mess that was his last breakup. Not after losing the one girl who made him feel like no one else ever did, the one he never saw again after that Christmas night. 

Charlie sighed, but grinned dorkily at Dean anyway. “I’m going in… you, come in when you’re ready… if you’re ready.” She moved forward and hugged him tightly, her comforting hug made him smile. Dean held the back of her head and kissed her temple, letting her go so she could go inside. 

Dean exhaled loudly, a puff of his warm breath escaping visibly into the cold air. Dean shook his arms and body, trying to hype himself up.

“Come on, Dean,” he murmured, “you’ve been doing this for a long time.” He patted his face, now turning hot and pink when a group of girls wolf-whistled at him as they passed by, giggling to each other when he smirked at them. “See? You’ve still got it,” he told himself when they were far away enough to not hear him. “I know what I’m doing, I know what I’m doing.” 

Surely, there’s more than one person who will make him feel the way he felt that night. Someone else who causes explosions when their lips meet. Someone who makes him laugh and makes him feel comfortable about expressing deep inhibitions. 

He couldn’t get her out of his mind. The taste of her. The softness of her skin beneath his hands. Her lips against his. The scent of her skin and her hair. Her words, her voice, and her eyes. The feeling of being inside her, hot, soaked all around him, squeezing as she came. 

It was the best sex he had. In a closet, of all places. In the darkness. God, that woman. She’s haunted every one of his dreams and every fantasy. 

He didn’t dare call her, though, after she gave him her number. He felt bad about it all. He knew women like her, women that didn’t like to be put in situations like those. He didn’t want to put all that on her, even if his intentions were pure… It’s his biggest regret.

Why couldn’t he have met her some other time? Any other day after his breakup? Any other place besides that stupid party?

There’s no point in staying in a cage when the door is wide open for him to escape. He’s been in there waiting for her for long enough… not that she actually made any promises to him. Before he went crazy, he had to fly out, and stop making himself miserable. 

Dean stepped inside the house with Halloween music playing loudly. He could feel it in his stomach, the bass, making his nerves even worse. No alcohol tonight, he’d only feel sick. Besides, he needed to be sober for this to work properly. 

He walked around the antique-like rooms, looking for a girl that reignited that spark in his dimming heart. He talked to a few women, got their names, asked about what they did, what they liked. 

No spark. 

No flutter. 

Not even a little ember. 

Dean groaned loudly when he got to the kitchen, burying his face in his hands, the heel of his palms digging into his eyes. When Dean sighed heavily, fingers sliding down his face, some guy dressed as Jack Sparrow shoved a bottle of scotch into his hand.

“I feel ya, man,” he told Dean sympathetically, patting his shoulder as he pushed past people making out, and humping each other against the kitchen’s counters—shamelessly. 

Things were not going well for him. But they clearly were for Charlie. 

He could hear her distinctly shy laugh nearby. He poured himself some scotch in a glass and drank some of it. He looked around for her, clicking his tongue against his teeth at the burn of alcohol streaming down his throat. 

“Dean!” Charlie shouted, causing him to turn around. She dragged a woman dressed as an angel with her. “No gold?” She asked breathlessly, her cheeks bright red like her lips, and her hair a mess. 

“Nope,” Dean replied, looking at the angel next to her. A sheer, white lingerie dress fell over her curves, white heart stickers on her nipples, white panties, a garter, and high heels. She wore a white halo on her head, her long hair placed in a high ponytail, her skin tan and her lips just as swollen as Charlie’s.

“Hi,” she breathed out, watching him drink the rest of the content in the glass he stole from the cupboards.

“This is Namora,” Charlie informed Dean to break the silence. Dean nodded at Charlie and smiled at her… friend. 

“Dean,” he told Namora casually, who was about to say something else. “I’m… I need to use the restroom,” he told Charlie, placing his cup in her hand. Her smile fell slightly and she let go of Namora when Dean turned around so he could find somewhere to catch his breath. 

Charlie tugged Dean’s shirt, making him stop halfway. He turned to face her, a reassuring smile on both their faces. “Try to have fun anyway, yeah?” She let go of him and Dean nodded, chewing on his lip. She watched him closely, but Namora came up behind her and wrapped her arms around Charlie’s waist, allowing Dean to escape.

Dean found himself walking up the stairs, avoiding couples and girls that hit on him. Groping, tugging him into them, trying and failing to cast spells of desire. He declined bashfully and continued into the hallway, peeking inside rooms for an empty one to rest in.

People were having sex, of course, in the first few, but he found one where there was one girl taking pictures of herself. She puckered her lips and pushed out her chest, her hand resting on her ribcage beneath her breast. 

He was going to shut the door, but he opened it again. Her familiarity made him do a double-take. He stared at her, trying to place a name or a situation to her face. She lowered the phone, turning to face him with a judgemental expression. Look away, was written over the sassy shake of her head. 

It was sexy-elf-girl, but dressed as a sexy Wednesday Addams. 

“Hey,” Dean called out, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. 

She sighed, checking him out after she set her phone down on the bed. She seemed to be reconsidering the attitude she’d given him the closer he got to the light of the lamp. 

“Yes, we can have sex,” she said bluntly. 

Dean’s brows furrowed, and then he laughed shyly, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he declined, but she took it like a champ, and raised a brow at him. “You’re friend, Y/n, is she here? I’m Dean.” Realisation made her smile fade and her eyes became wide. She looked to the side, there was a closed door where the bathroom was—presumably, and Dean instantly knew she was in there. 

His heart jumped at the thought of seeing her again and his breath got caught in his throat. He hoped he was right.  

“Oh,” she said, awkward and short. “Uh,” she hesitated, looking back at Dean who was staring at the door, too. She realised her mistake and cleared her throat so Dean would look at her. 

She didn’t have to say anything for Dean to understand the thoughts running through her head. She was a good friend, Dean gave her that. He sighed and smiled at her halfheartedly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, “I’ll leave.” Dean turned away from her with the remains of his dignity. 

“Wait!” She called out quietly, groaning out with irritation. He heard the bed squeak, and he looked back at her, and the conflict written over her face as she walked towards him. “it’s embarrassing how… much she’s not into anyone, but you…” She confessed breathily, as if she understood why her friend was so into him. It made him smile, a heated blush blossoming on his face, and his stomach clenched at her words. “Call her,” she advised. 

Dean stared at her to confirm her words and pulled his phone out. She watched him while he tore his gaze from hers, scrolling to where her abandoned, unused contact was. He looked at her through his lashes and she nodded encouragingly. He pressed the call button, and watched it ring a few times. He heard her phone vibrating inside the bathroom, then loud fluttering, and then she opened the door. 

“Daphne, I-” her voice was panicked, but she stopped when she saw Dean, her mouth shutting instantly. 

There she was, wearing that same Zoro costume as before. Is it fate, a sign that he’ll get closure? Or is it a sign that the night will end up the same as the last time? 

“Okay,” Daphne said awkwardly, and laughed nervously. She walked towards Y/n, fixed her hair, and kissed her cheek while mumbling something against her skin. Daphne quickly made her escape, locking the door before she shut it. 

“Dean, I-” 

“Hear me out,” Dean interrupted her, angst in his voice, “please.” He stepped closer, just slightly, testing how comfortable she is with him. When she didn’t move away, instead tilting her head up at him, he stepped even closer. 

“What?” She whispered, shivering at the static shock of his fingertips running down her arm. 

“I… I didn’t call because…” he whispered, staring into her eyes. They were soft, wide as they trailed over his face. Her lips were downturned, her bottom lip jutting out slightly in a pout. “Truth is… I thought you were… her. You made me feel things that I hadn’t felt with her, so I almost changed my mind when we were having sex… I kept going, chasing that high, but turned out you were never her, I felt all that for you. I thought I finally found what I spent so long searching for. 

“After finding out I didn’t want to die. I thought to myself, what did I even have? I only had my brother. Which… I’m not saying he’s not enough, but… I wanted what I watched others have. I want more. I want… Something just for me,” Dean confessed, staring earnestly into her confused eyes.

She tilted her head at him, but her eyes were empathetic. Dean realised she had no idea what he was talking about. He’d tell her everything in a heartbeat. Maybe in time less than a heartbeat. About the monsters, the life he lives, and the family business. And he’d bring proof, too, lots of proof, so it didn’t end up being a repeat of what went down between him and Cassie. 

“I mean… I’ve watched stuff on television, I’ve read books… it’s so fucking sappy, but I wanted all of that. You know? The stuff, like… a house, a normal job, pets, hobbies, just having stupid things, even. And then there-there’s the people… the people I meet when I pretend to be normal. They made me realise that I wanted more… more than one night, more than… more than just sex and the ‘adios’ every morning or after the sex…

“I want more than friendships that never last because… everyone dies. I want to escape this life I live. The cycle I’m trapped in… the maze that threatens to kill me. When I’m free, I know I can have it all. I want to have friendships that aren’t compromised by complicated things going on in my life… the betrayals, the death, the sacrifice, and the other shit… I just… want something real. Something that lasts.

“Like the feelings… the feelings I know I can feel… the emotions all of this can make me feel. If I have it, I know they’ll feel differently. I… I want to experience them differently than before… some of them… some of them I might even be feeling for the first time. I know I can find it, too. I know, I knew someone was out there, just for me. And I thought that was Jeralynne, but then… I met you.” His voice trembled, but he didn’t care, he was putting his heart out there for the first time. And there it was, vulnerability, raw emotions he never felt before, it made his stomach clench. 

This was dangerous. 

“And then… then you left and-and I knew how this made you feel. And I couldn’t possibly do that to you, I couldn’t make you feel like a bad person. I never heard from you again and these were one of the worst two years of my life. Knowing you were out there. And I really wanted to call. I wanted to be selfish and just… It was… awful for me to do that. I didn’t mean to ghost you, I-I-I was just trying to spare you from feeling guilty or from thinking that you’re with some-some cheater.” 

She blinked up at him. He didn’t know what she was thinking. She was quiet and he noticed her jaw tick, and then she looked away from him. She looked thoughtful, at least she looked like she was attempting to absorb his words. Maybe it just confused her. Maybe it was too much. 

She turned around and walked away from him. His stomach sank. He watched her with his mouth open in disbelief, hurt. He felt a strange sensation against his fingertips, despair, and an ache in his chest different from the pain he’s felt before. 

She stopped at the door with her hand around the doorknob, then she sighed. Her shoulder fell, her hand dropped to her side. Surrender. She turned to face him again with her back pressed against the door. 

“I know you’re not a cheater, Dean,” she finally spoke, her voice soft. She pushed herself off the door, and made her way to him, way too slowly for his liking. But when she got to him, she wasted no time in pressing the whole front of her soft body against his, one of her hands slipping into his hair, pulling him down. 

So, so close to her lips, he leaned in, but she pulled back. It felt like someone dumped kerosene on his entire body, threw a match on him, lighting him on fire. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, squeezing her waist in his hands, keeping her tightly against his body. His lips tingled, longing to feel hers—all soft, red, and a little dry—against his. 

“Me too,” she murmured. When she kissed him, he felt like the air had been knocked out of him, like all those times monsters had thrown him through walls. Except, this feeling was a thousand times better. 

He’d never been kissed this way. Seriously. Her hands were everywhere, buried in his hair tugging harder and harder until he moaned. And when he opened his mouth to release the sound into her mouth, her tongue found its way to his, tasting and licking until his lungs burned for oxygen. 

She pulled away for a few seconds, lips brushing against his, her breath warm against his wet lips. And then she pushed up on her toes and her hands started to wander, slowly moving down his chest, vaguely copping a feel of his body above the thick layers of his knight costume. Trying to find her way past all the tight clothes, the chains, the belt, the leather, and thick cotton. 

He did the same, groaning when she bit down hard on his lip before trailing wet kisses down his neck. He squeezed her breasts over the leather of her tiny dress, and kneaded her ass, grinding his growing erection against her stomach. He panted loudly, achingly hard, and slipped his fingers into her hair. He held her against his neck as she nibbled and sucked on his pulse. 

His loud moans filled the room and she pulled away once more, shoving him backwards. He stumbled, dazed with lust. He reached for her elbow in confusion, attempting to stabilise himself, but she gave one last push, until he fell back on the bed. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Dean,” she whispered. 

Dean lifted himself up on his elbows, staring dumbly as she unlaced the dress at the top. He inhaled sharply and reached down to tug the lace holding the leather of his trousers around his hips. 

“Neither could I,” he assured her, ridding himself of the belt around his waist. She moaned softly, pulling the leather dress down her body, revealing her bare breasts, the black lace of her panties, a black garter belt holding her stockings around her thighs. 

Dean breathed in sharply, slowly lifting his eyes up her body when she stepped out of the dress and began to walk towards him in those sexy heels of hers. His cock throbbed, twitching under brown leather and nothing else. But instead of touching himself, he succumbed to her dominance, and fisted the sheets at his sides. 

“Yeah?” She teased, the bed dipping on each side of his legs while she slowly moved up his body on her knees.

“Yeah,” Dean responded breathily, nodding vehemently. Dean moved up on the bed, staring into her eyes, and then he dropped his head into impossibly soft pillows. She smiled at him, sexy eyes glued to his face as she slid her hands up his sides. “Please, I need you so bad,” he begged, feeling her fingertips brush against the skin above his hips. 

She curled her fingers into the waistband and pulled down. Dean lifted his hips, breathing as heavily as she was the lower she pulled them down. Inch by inch of his freckled skin was exposed and her lips followed, biting and sucking possessively at his hip bones, the v-line guiding her to his cock.  

His cock bobbed, hitting his stomach and the thick cloth of his tied shirt. He pursed his lips and held back a moan, throwing his head back into the fat pillow as she pulled his boots, and the leather trousers off his legs. 

“You said you had a fantasy you wanted fulfilled,” she stated, moving up his body. She put her fingers around the bar of his cock, and he gasped, her warm breath blowing over the wet tip. “What was it?” She asked, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, collecting his warm precum with a satisfied hum. 

Dean laughed breathlessly, “no, anything but that.” He lifted himself up to admire her, making his shirt slip down his body, and she pouted. She removed her mouth to spit on his cock, she stroked him slowly, twisting her hand up the hard and hot length of his penis. 

“Tell me,” she begged playfully, and then went right back to sucking him off. Her warm, wet mouth smoothly slid up and down his cock, and her hand followed her pretty lips. She hummed softly at the taste of him, teasingly sending delightful vibrations along his dick, and then the head of his cock touched the back of her throat, and she swallowed each time it did. It drove him crazy.

He stared at her lustily, the black mask around her head showing only her eyes, and that black Stetson, the cape thrown over one side of her body. God, she was hot as fuck, but a moan replaced any and all of his dirty words.

She started to go faster, sucking on her way up, tonguing the veins along his cock on the way down. Her hand squeezed tightly the whole time, getting tighter after three sets, and his hips bucked upwards into her skillful mouth. The last straw was when she gently tugged and squeezed his balls. 

He wanted to stop her, but the fantasy of her swallowing his load overpowered his will. His stomach clenched and his balls tightened, but she pulled away before he could climax: no hands, no mouth, just the cold air against his wet cock. Dean whined, squirming at the loss of her warm mouth. 

“Yup, just as I thought, your dick tastes as good as it looks,” she panted, wiping tears from her eyes beneath the mask and from her red cheeks. 

“Please, please,” Dean whispered, sitting up. “Fuck me,” be pleaded, bringing his hand to the back of her neck, gently pulling her forward. She crawled up his body to sit on his thighs, ghosting her lips above his, and his eyes fluttered shut, waiting for her kiss, but he felt her finger instead. 

Dean opened his eyes and frowned. A haze of lust prevented him from thinking straight.

“No,” she smirked, those red lips of hers plump and slick. 

“I have to tell you first?” He asked quietly, settling his hands on her hips, moving his fingers to toy with the hem of her lace panties. She nodded, nuzzling her nose against his flushed cheek.

She brought her hands to his shirt, pulling at the tan laces that kept his shirt closed in the front, slowly she made her way up, undoing the messy knots, giving him time to gain some confidence and courage to confide in her what he had in mind when he said that to her. 

Had he been in his right mind, he’d swoon over the fact that she remembered what he told her. 

She pushed him gently onto his back, pulling the shirt open across his chest. She pouted at the white shirt beneath, and teasingly knotted the lace at the neck of his shirt so it wouldn’t choke him, the fake chainmail resting along his throat. 

Dean’s stomach fluttered and his heart skipped a few beats when she slid her hand from his stomach, up to his chest. The long-sleeved shirt skirted around her wrist, rising higher and higher, so slowly as she patiently waited for him to focus on her request. 

She leaned forward, blew air against his lips with a smile and skipped down to his chest to attach her mouth to his nipple. Dean’s eyes were widened and he gasped, tightening his grip on her hips, her cool finger brushing over his other nipple. Her freehand scratched down his chest, then her soft palm sailed upwards, fingertips dipping into the planes of his muscles. 

She brushed her hand against Dean’s cock occasionally, but he had a feeling it was on purpose. It drove him crazy, his dick bobbed, aching for attention while she worked her hands around, and far away from his pulsing erection. 

“Fuck!” Dean shouted in irritation, giving up. She looked up at him like he was being way too dramatic and moved her mouth to his other nipple. “Fine, fine. Just please fuck me,” he begged, grabbing her underwear and ripping them off her. The black lace fell apart easily. It’s been a while since he’s done that. 

She cursed softly and laughed, reaching down to dispose of her underwear. She planted her hands firmly on his chest, her pussy hovering above his cock. Dean trailed his hands up her sides, taking in the sight of her breasts and then back down, calloused palms moving over the black lace of her garter belt. 

“Tell me,” she sang mischievously. She moved one hand off his chest to place it around his wrist, bringing it away from her hip to the warmth between her legs. “I’m ready for you, Dean. You can feel all this wet… on your cock if you tell me,” she purred, gazing into his eyes as he brushed his fingers through her soaked pussy. 

“Fuck,” Dean muttered. She moaned softly, flattening his palm to grind her pussy against his hand. “Slap me,” he requested, his voice just above a whisper, “that’s what I wanted. Ride my cock and slap me, baby.” 

She froze above him. And he felt so embarrassed for saying that, but he couldn’t take it back. She let go of his hand, blinking curiously at him, and he placed both hands on the bed instead of on her body. 

A surprised gasp slipped past his lips when she slapped him suddenly—no warning. He only felt the sting against his cheek and his face was turned to the side. Then, she lowered her pussy over his cock, sliding up and down apologetically. 

Dean blinked as a blush burned at his face and he looked back at her. She looked at him closely as he rubbed his face with one hand, the other grasped her hip guiding her movements. “That felt real,” Dean chuckled, a soft moan slipping through his throat when she pressed herself down harder against him. 

“Softer?” She asked softly, her hips still rolling back and forth so seductively. Dean looked between them shamelessly, his fingers digging into her hips. 

“No.” 

“Dean, I-” 

“Please,” he whined, bucking up into her slick. His stomach fluttered with excitement, impatiently awaiting her reaction. 

She nodded after a few moments of quiet thinking and lifted herself up slightly, guiding his cock to her entrance. She sank down on him slowly, and his eyes flickered down between her legs as she took every inch of him, and then back up to her face to capture the pleasure that she felt in having him inside her. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” he groaned, reaching down to part her folds and find her already-slick clit with his thumb. She leaned back to give him more access, moaning once she was full with his cock inside her.

“Me too,” she agreed, short of breath. Slowly, she started to lift herself up and down on his length, panting with effort, her pace steadily increasing. Dean could feel her slick dripping down and her walls getting tight around him. “You feel so good,” she praised with a moan.

“You feel even better.” That’s when she looked at him and she hesitated when she saw the look in his eyes, the mischief and his arousal. He felt her walls squeeze him again and then she smacked him across the face on the opposite side. 

He grunted and squirmed, his eyes tearing up at the pain, but she laughed breathlessly. It was a nervous laugh not a sadistic one. He pressed his hand to his hot cheek and screwed his eyes shut, swearing under his breath. Why did he like this?

“Your face is too pretty to slap,” she whispered. She took his hand away from his face as she bounced on his cock faster and slipped her fingers between his instead. She bit her lip, and she leaned forward, attempting to keep her eyes open as her cunt pulsed around him. 

“You’re so wet… I want to put my mouth all over your beautiful body.” Dean removed his hand from between their bodies to cup her breast before he squeezed the flesh. He silently asked her to lean down by opening his mouth slightly. When she did, his tongue swiped up and down her nipple, she responded with a low moan, and a tight grip of his cock. 

“I need you to cum,” Dean pleaded, bending his knees to thrust up into her. She nodded fervently, releasing his hand to plant both of hers on the pillow beneath his head. He could hear the scratch of her nails against the silk and he removed his warm mouth from her breasts and slowly canvassed her body with warm, calloused palms. Kneading, squeezing, digging his blunt nails into her delicate skin.

“That’s right, cum on my cock, sweetheart,” Dean moaned. The bed squeaked with each movement, and the wooden headboard hit the wall loudly, shaking photographs nailed at the top. Dean moaned with her, his cock plunging into her wet cunt filled the room, her skin audibly slapping against his—like an obscene porno. 

She came on his cock with a cry of his name, her velvety heat gushing around him, squeezing to the point of insanity. Dean barely gave her time to recover before pulling her down against his chest, and flipping her onto her back. 

Her Stetson easily fell off her head, and he tugged the mask away from her eyes, staring finally at her breathtaking face. She gasped softly, her body trembling beneath his as he slammed his hand against the wall. “Fill me up, Dean, I need to feel you inside me,” she whispered, gently holding his jaw in her hands.

Dean kissed her deeply, hips pistoning into her wet, pulsing cunt. He lifted her leg, bending her knee, opening her up by holding her thigh to the side. She held her other thigh in a similar position, a loud cry filling the room when he pushed deeper, his cock head pressing into her cervix as his hips stuttered, and finally, he came inside her with a shout of her name. 

A second orgasm rolled through her, whimpering out his name like a praise against his sinful mouth. Shaking from her orgasm, her face twisted in pleasure, Dean pulled away from her sweet lips, wishing he could always remember her face. 

Dean collapsed on top of her, releasing her leg to roll her back on top of him once more, his lips moving all over her face. She laughed, short of breath, her pussy leaking the mixture of their release around him. Dean gripped her hips tightly to keep himself inside her, her stockings brushing against his skin feeling like electricity. 

“That was a pretty bad idea, Dean,” she murmured, lifting her lips to his. “Slapping was,” she cleared up, licking across his teeth before he spoke. 

“I agree,” he chuckled hoarsely, kissing her passionately. She pulled away from his mouth for a breather, lifted herself off him with a moan, her cunt clenching around nothing as more cum dripped out of her. 

“I’m gonna be so sore,” she whined, laying on her back beside him. Dean smiled and turned over on his side to gaze at her. 

She was flushed and enchanting, her eyes sparkling brightly when she looked back at him. Dean played with the little clips from her garter belt, his fingers sailing slowly up her stomach, over her hardened nipple. She shivered and took his hand, placing it flat over her breast. 

“Get used to it,” Dean murmured, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder, “I’ll never get tired of your body.” She smiled brightly at him, turning to face him the same way he was laying on his side. 

“I’ll never tire of your body,” she promised softly, scooting closer to him. “I’ll always love… every… glorious… inch of you,” she said emphatically, kissing his lips as she did. 

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[valkyrieromanoff]

⚰️MATCHING COSTUME: SAM MONROE X YOU (day 7 of 31)

synopsis: You and Sam match Halloween costumes without knowing it.

warning: fluffy.

a/n: Hello theretwo days of Sam, well, you can already start to see a pattern there,  hope you like it💖

ɪ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴀᴛ ʜᴀɴᴅ

Halloween wasn’t necessarily a bad holiday, Sam admitted. Dressing up, pretending to be someone else for a night, getting bags full of candy, and stuffing yourself with treats—it had its moments. There was even a certain satisfaction in harmlessly vandalizing houses with the excuse of mischief, all in the name of "trick or treat." But tonight, the appeal of it all felt distant. Parties, loud music, and flashing lights were the last things he wanted to deal with. 

Corey, his best—and probably only—friend, was hosting a Halloween party since his parents were away. A night of candy, snacks, smuggled alcohol, and teenagers crammed into every corner of the house didn’t excite Sam in the slightest. He’d tried to dodge it, saying he had other plans, but Corey had seen right through him. And now, here he was, standing in Corey’s house, reluctantly helping hang plastic ghosts and spider webs while teenagers filtered in. 

Sam was already dressed. His face was painted in stark white and black to resemble a skull, and he wore a custom black suit with white pinstripes, the lapels and tie perfectly mimicking Jack Skellington from *A Nightmare Before Christmas*. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a window—his hollow eyes staring back at him from beneath the makeup. It felt oddly fitting.

"Should I hide my mom's china vases?" Corey asked as he draped fake cobwebs over the cabinets and lamps.

Sam rolled his eyes, biting into a lollipop he’d plucked from a pumpkin-shaped candy jar. "If you don’t want them broken or worse," he deadpanned, casually heading toward the kitchen.

"By the way," he added, ripping the wrapper off another lollipop. "Are you sure your sister’s even helping with this? Haven’t seen her lift a finger."

"She took care of things earlier," Corey shrugged, pouring vodka into the punch. "She’s probably getting ready now."

Hours later, the party was in full swing. The lights had dimmed, the music blared, and the house was packed with teenagers dancing, making out, or drunkenly laughing in groups. Sam, however, sat slouched in an armchair facing the stairs. Corey had asked him to "monitor" the staircase to keep couples from sneaking upstairs. Sam nearly laughed at the idea—did Corey really think a strip of tape was going to stop hormone-fueled teenagers?

Sam sighed, fishing a cigarette from his pocket, only to curse under his breath when he couldn’t find his lighter. He was about to give up when the sound of footsteps on the stairs made him look up, ready to scold whoever was trying to sneak past him. The words died on his lips when he saw the boots.

High-heeled, bluish-green boots with delicate black stitching. His gaze traveled upward, past the tights—also bluish-green, patched with jagged black lines—then to the vibrant patchwork dress. The mix of pink, plaid, yellow, and dark green with polka dots was unmistakable. And when his eyes finally landed on your face, painted with bluish makeup, with drawn-on stitches, long dark lashes, and soft pink lipstick, the cigarette slipped from his fingers.

It was you—Corey’s sister, dressed as Sally from *A Nightmare Before Christmas*.

“So, how’s the Pumpkin King doing?” you asked with a mischievous grin, hopping down the last few steps and landing lightly in front of him.

Sam stared at you, his usual guarded expression faltering as confusion flickered across his face. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to regain some composure. You frowned slightly, waiting for him to speak.

"You’re Jack, right? *The Nightmare Before Christmas*? Tim Burton?" you prompted with a playful smile.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Sam mumbled, his voice weaker than he intended. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing you dressed like that, with your bright, energetic smile, made something stir in him—something he didn’t quite understand.

You stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background as the two of you locked eyes. You weren’t exactly strangers, but you weren’t close either. You had seen each other plenty of times—passing in the hallways, grabbing snacks from the kitchen late at night, bumping into each other at family gatherings. But tonight, something felt different.

"Why Sally?" Sam asked suddenly, his voice quieter now, genuinely curious.

You raised an eyebrow, and your lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Why Jack?" you countered.

Sam chuckled softly, appreciating the quick comeback. He took a moment before answering, his voice dropping as if admitting something he rarely shared. "Jack and I... we both feel like something’s missing, you know? We’re both lost, stuck, not knowing what to do with our lives. He wants more but doesn’t know what, and neither do I."

Your eyes softened at his words. You hadn’t expected him to be so honest, but it made sense. You stepped closer, brushing your fingers against his hand and pulling him to his feet. “Come with me,” you whispered.

The cigarette he had forgotten about tumbled to the floor, but he didn’t care. He followed you without question, climbing the stairs, past the noise of the party, until you reached a window. With surprising ease, you climbed out onto the roof, and Sam followed, pulling himself up beside you. The night air was cool, the sound of distant music muffled as you both sat on the slanted roof, your legs dangling over the edge.

“I chose Sally because... sometimes I feel like I don’t belong,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the stars above. “I try to fit into society, but no matter how much I try, something always feels off. Like I’m always waiting for something to go wrong.”

Sam turned his head to look at you, and for the first time that night, he really saw you. Not just Corey’s sister, not just someone he occasionally crossed paths with, but someone who understood the very same things he’d been grappling with for years. He shifted closer, the space between you shrinking as the weight of your words settled in.

"Life sucks," Sam said softly, nodding in agreement. “But... not living? Not trying? That’s worse."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to quiet around you both. There was something so profoundly real in that moment, the unspoken recognition that you had both found someone who understood. Someone who saw the world the way you did—lost, broken, but still searching for something, even if you didn’t know what it was.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and Sam felt it too. That rare connection—when two people, even through all their confusion and doubts, find a flicker of hope in each other.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he rested his head against yours. The night breeze carried the scent of autumn leaves and distant laughter, but here, on this rooftop, in the stillness of your shared understanding, it felt like the world had faded away. 

For the first time in a long while, Sam didn’t feel so lost. He didn’t feel so alone. And in that quiet moment, it was enough.

"Thanks for pulling me out of the party," Sam murmured, his voice low, but the warmth in it unmistakable.

"Thanks for coming," you replied just as softly. 

The stars above twinkled faintly, the night enveloping you both in its comforting embrace. And though neither of you had all the answers, you had each other—if only for tonight—and that made all the difference.

[acc--deactivated]

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

featuring: edward kenway

cw: praise, vaginal sex, semi-public i guess

synopsis: owning a tavern in havana means being used to pirates in your every day life, their crude words and behaviour. but you've never met a pirate going this far in attempt to apologize for a crewmate's bad actions.

note: „fy nghariad“ is a welsh phrase meaning „my love“ or „my sweetheart“ which i thought would be nice to include, but please tell me if i used it incorrectly, that would be kinda embarassing lol

18+ content - MDNI

───────────────────

Havana is always warm, always welcoming and soft, with sunlight flooding through streets of beige and gold, full of laughter and peaceful existence.

Even at night, it feels like the warmth wraps around people like a soft coat, summer air resting between the buildings and mingling with the scent of the sea, darkness enlightened by warm lanterns and candles. The sound of joyful music, shanties and drunken laughter has become the soundtrack of your nights as bartender in the tavern and restaurant which are owned by your father, and you like to say that Havana is a place of joy, no matter the time of day.

You've done this job since your teenage years, are used to bar fights and lusting gazes resting on you, know how to handle men who try to let their hands wander, think they can whistle at you or spit out crude and naughty things.

Most of them know that it will only get them a ban from the house, or in worst case, a beating from your main visitors or an arrest by the guards, but sometimes, there still are idiots who try it, out of pure stupidity and falsely placed ego.

Citizens of Havana adore your tavern as a centre of the city, they know how to behave and have their fun in peace, but the pirates docking on the shore are a different story.

You can see it in their gazes, in the way they talk, the way they stride through the streets like they own them and the houses forming them, that they're looking for provocation, hungry for a fight.

Thankfully, most of them are more of an inconvience and not an actual threat, and you know how to handle them, know that a tavern is a pirate's favourite place, which gives you a slight advantage against them, even if it's just out of their sympathy for the rum you pour them.

It doesn't diminish your dislike for them, despite them being your costumers.

Pirates are a disease, you've always been told. And yet, you can't help but feel a thrill in your veins, feel your heart leap and your legs trembling when a strong hand grabs your chin from behind, gently, sensually lifts your head.

The soft light filling the dim walls of the empty, closed tavern flickers in your vision, soft tears of passion melting it to a blur along with the dark of the late night and a breathed, blissful sigh leaves your lips, forced out of you by the way the body of the man behind you rocks once more against you.

Pirates are the worst of the worst, you learned early in your life. And Edward Kenway is so good at being a pirate, at getting what he wants, that he might be something even worse, armed with those mischievous eyes, his charming smirk and skilled fingers.

You did not question the leathern bracers wrapped around his lower arms, the hidden blades you saw shimmering in the dim light when you served him and his men, and you didn't question the hooded robe hanging over the back of his chair, could only focus on the white lace-up shirt on his body, the cleavage that slightly revealed the tattoos spreading over his chest.

It was no surprise and nothing new when one of his men hit on you, spitting rude words from a drunk tongue in an attempt to seduce you. What did surprise you was how fast Adéwalé grabbed him by the scruff like a puppy to kick him out of the tavern, and the way Edward apologized to you, genuinely and gentle.

Most men did not act like this when they came to drink in your tavern, only laughed when their comrades harrassed a girl. It did not fit your world view, disturbed the evil picture you carried of pirates all these years of your life.

You couldn't help but smile at the way Edward looked at you, a mixture of apologetic and enthrilled, felt your breath hitch when he asked you what he could offer to beg your forgiveness.

The way his hands are now roaming your body, his husked breaths against your ear and his body pressed against yours is not what you had in mind at first, but you'll gladly take it as a form of apology.

He lets out a groan as he fills you, slides into you like you are made for him, slicked walls hugging his cock, clenching around his girth.

He fills you just right, hits spots you have never felt, makes you see stars despite the roof above both of your heads.

„What do you say, sweetheart? Think this'll make up for the inconvience?“ he husks against your ear, sends a new shiver down your spine that ends up right inside the heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you lightly lean your head back, feel the stubble of his beard brushing your ear.

Just when you're about to answer, he hits you with another thrust from behind, knocks the air out of you with the sheer depth of his movements.

You need a second to catch your breath, collect yourself, before a little smirk spreads on your lips.

„Thought a world-class-pirate would have more to offer“, you respond, with a low, seducing voice, a tone that lures him in, makes his breath hitch lightly, bearly hearable if he wasn't so close to your ear.

He's so close even that you think you can feel the way an amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and you shudder again when his breath fans your cheek.

„Sly little thing, aren't ya?“

Before you can answer in an even brattier tone than before, you feel how he slightly pushes you down, makes you lean further forward until you're forced to hold onto the bar, driven further and further into the wood by his harsh thrusts.

He quickens his pace, makes you whine and moan with the way he fills you, tip kissing your womb, his slight curve brushing your sweet spots just right.

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

His words and the deep tone of his voice only make you arch more in his grasp, make you hold onto the bar with one hand, while the other carries your balance on its wooden surface.

You feel your own arousal run down your thighs, feel yourself getting higher and higher on the wet sounds echoing through the room whenever he enters your aching cunt, your brain spinning around mixed feelings of confusion and arousal.

He's a pirate, a well wanted one as well, and yet you can not help but love the way he grabs you, the way he fucks you, the way he makes you feel.

When he leans over your back, one hand placed next to your body, the other one on your hip to hold you steady, you somehow forget how much his head is worth, how dangerous his hands should feel on your body.

It feels strange, but a spark of sympathy arises within you when he leans in further, buries you in his shadow as he pushes a soft kiss against the back of your neck, drowns you in the illusion of intimacy when he gently closes his teeth around the shell of your ear.

Edward doesn't seem like other pirates, doesn't initiate fights he can not win, doesn't harrass others, doesn't cause unnecessary ruckus to prove his ego. He smells better than most of them, covered in the scent of the sea, of salt and a hint of rum, but with an underlying note of herbs, probably because of salves that are used to treat wounds lingering his body.

And above all, he looks so handsome, a dark angel within a bunch of dirty, fattened and drunk pigs, his cheeky smirk more intoxicating than alcohol or money.

A smirk that is directed at you, resting on you as he observes you, watches you writher and shake beneath his movements. When you catch it from the corner of your eye, it fuels new fire inside of you, and your lips curl sweet and mischievously when you slightly raise your head to respond.

„Maybe you shouldn't provoke my sharp tongue too much then, captain.“

The word does something to him, you can feel it, notice the way he gasps for a second, slows his thrusts for the shortest bit. Then he suddenly slips out of you, both hands grabbing your hips and pulling you up, your back straightening for the shortest second before he turns you around, pulls you in by the waist and leans forward to push his lips against yours, catching you in a heated kiss that steals your breath, makes your knees weak.

You bury your right hand in his blonde hair, hold him close, while your other hand rests on the textile of his shirt, trying to hold onto soft linen while you sigh and feel your legs tremble.

As if he's feeling it, he lightly bends his knees, slides his hands from your hips to the back of your thighs to pick you up, makes you wrap your legs around his waist while your hands cradle his face and you sink further into his kiss, melt against his lips. You hear the rustling of clothes, feel how he picks up your discarded dress from the edge of the bar and spreads it on the counter, adjusting the textile before he sets you down on the wood, just to break from your mouth a few seconds later.

He smirks at your little gasp, licks his lower lip before raising his voice.

„Captain, huh? That a hidden request to join my crew?“

You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, need a second to collect yourself before you scoff at his words, look at him through a glimmer of competition before you breathe out an „In your dreams, pirate.“

He only grins at that, eyes slightly narrowing as they slide down to his hands on your thighs, watches them when he spreads your legs to get new access to your leaking centre, his eyes staring shamelessly at it.

And just when you think to finally have the air to add another snarky comment, he suddenly thrusts back into you, one switft motion with which he fills you to the brim, makes you throw your head back as he falls back into a relentless rhythm, his cock slicking in and out of your warm wetness.

He leans over you again, holding you by the waist as he pounds into you, forcing high pitched moans and whimpers out of your throat that you simply can not hold back.

His thrusts feel so deep, hit you so perfectly and when he grabs one of your legs to raise it to his shoulder, you almost choke on the air in your throat, bliss filling you at the pleasure washing through you by his deepening movements.

You curse out an „Oh god-“ as you throw your head back, hear a breathed laugh from Edward when he grabs you by the hips again, adjusts your body on the textile of your dress, pulls you in to take his hard thrusts.

Another whimper leaves you as he partially folds you in half, sass and mockery leaving your body with each new thrust, slowly melting in the heat of a building orgasm within your body.

It doesn't help how he reaches out with his hand to search for your clit, forcing a loud moan from your throat when his finger presses against it.

„That it, darling? That the spot?“

Through your panting and heavy breathing, the dizziness in your vision, you see how he smirks at you, pure confidence written in his attractive features and you can only nod, breathe out a „Please-“, a word that only makes his smile widen.

Your lower body tenses, a coil clenching deep within your core, tight enough that it almost hurts.

„Don't hold back. Let me feel you come, fy nghariad.“

His voice slightly falters, breathless because of his own arousal, the tension with which he holds himself back, and his words only add fuel to the fire in your body, make the flames lap higher, reaching your chest, making your heart race.

Whimpers and gasps leave your throat, you tense, feel your thighs shiver, your entire body short-circuiting until eventually, you feel yourself breaking apart, tension and arousal reaching their peak, knocking you into an abyss of white noise, making you cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as arousal floods your veins.

His thrusts never waver, seem to get even harder, fucking you through your orgasm, almost making you pass out with the sheer overstimulation. Your brain turns to mush, simply melts away and when you look up at him, with tear-filled, flickering eyes and your tongue slightly peaking over your lower lip, he takes in a sharp, hissing breath, slipping dangerously close to an orgasm just by your gaze and your walls spasming, clenching and relaxing around him.

His hand trembles a little as he trails it further up your body, fondling your chest for a second and making you whine out at the soft feeling, before his fingers graze your neck, eventually rest on your cheek.

He spreads his thumb, runs it over the corner of your mouth, doesn't expect the way you push out your tongue to taste salt, gunpowder and rum on his skin. Not a second later, you allow his finger to slip into your mouth, relish in the way he draws a sharp breath when you lazily swirl your tongue around it.

The facade in front of his face cracks the slightest bit, and you see how he bites his lower lip, how his brows furrow a little in what seems to be despair, before he breathes out a „Shit, you're gonna make me cum, sweetheart.“

It's the cue you need and while you whine, shudder beneath each of his thrusts, you at some point slightly bite down into his finger, hard enough to make him jolt, hard enough to break his facade.

He gasps for air, lets out short „Fuck-“, before he holds onto your hip, digging the fingers of his free hand into the skin when he forces himself to pull out, holding you in place as warm, white seed spurts over the skin of your abdomen.

For a few moments, you only look at each other, breathe into the space between both of you, wallowing in the heat of each other's body. Your head is still spinning when Edward slightly leans forward, gently rests his forehead against yours before he lets out a heavy breath.

His eyes are dark and dominant when they dig into yours, captivate you with the slight glimmer within them.

„Aren't you just something else... Maybe I'll pick you up and simply take you with me. Wanna know what else that sweet mouth of yours can do.“

It doesn't matter what you learned your entire life, his words make you giddy and thoughtless, make your heart leap in joy and your lips curl to a smile.

„Careful, Kenway. My lips may seem sweet, but they come with a pair of teeth.“

He lets out a little groan, a sound of playful despair and frustration, before he leans further against your forehead, gently nudges his nose against yours.

„Fucking heavens, you're perfect.“

You smile when he kisses you, wrap your arms around him and become a mess of sweet nothingness beneath his hands when they start roaming your body again, not taking long until you throw your head back once more, sending sighed versions of his name into the warm night.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

The Heartsteel splash art is very bad, and here's why

I am not a fan of the collective Heartsteel splash art, and in fact, I think it's kinda s***ty. Not on a technical level, mind you, it is every bit as well rendered and nicely drawn as most other Riot art is, but as a way to introduce these characters? As a pitch to get us excited about them? This is genuinely kind of f***ing terrible. First of all, it's copying the original K/DA splash arts, which also had each band member copy pasted in different positions in each splash, with a different character in the spotlight. And that's not a great place to start from, because it feels like a total lack of confidence in the product, like some suit-wearing executive saying "just copy whatever worked the first time!" The splash art should be an opportunity to introduce what's new and unique about the band, and copying K/DA like this completely fumbles that opportunity and invites really unflattering comparisons. Second, the copy pasting is a problem. For two reasons: First, it looks cheap. It just does. There is no way to put out six splash arts with the exact same pixels copy-pasted into different positions that doesn't, on an instinctual level, feel cheap. All that says is "we didn't want to pay for more than one splash art." It looks like corner cutting. Second, it forces every character in the art to be completely separate from one another. A big part of the band's charm in their excellent music video is the interaction and camaraderie between the boys as they get into frat boy shenanigans shooting their music video, but since every character has to be able to be copy-pasted and moved independently in the splash, they can't interact or pose together in any way, making them seem completely disconnected from one another. One of the simplest ways to add a bunch of character and charm to these splash arts would be to have one character up front doing their cool pose, and then the other five boys dicking around in the background, armwrestling or hugging or, I dunno, giving each other piggyback rides. Instead, we just get sterile clip-art of each of them that don't even seem to be aware that the other guys are there. And when they are up front, the poses they do are also… mostly kinda lame? Sett is supposed to be this tough-guy with a heart of gold rapper with a big attitude and he's just, like, vaguely flexing, kinda. K'sante is supposed to be this imposing, powerful vocalist and he's just… standing there. Yone looks bored, Aphelios looks like an emo kid who's being forced to be in a family photo by his mom, and Kayn, who's supposed to be this rowdy chaotic bad boy, is just… doing a peace sign and sticking his tongue out? He gets completely overshadowed by himself: his Shadow Assassin and Rhaast forms in the background, which DO get to interact, which DO get to play with each other, and who are more charming than everything else these splash arts do. It genuinely baffles me that Riot couldn't be bothered to spend the money to get each of them unique splash arts, give these characters an opportunity to show off their costumes and their personality, or at least spend the money to have them drawn a little bit different in each of the six versions of this thing that they put out. This splash art, to me, feels like an active discouragement from investing in Heartsteel, because looking at this, looking at all the corners that are being cut, even Riot doesn't feel committed to them as a project. And like yeah, the music video is great and it's doing a lot of heavy lifting for them, but this splash art is an actual liability, it makes the whole project look worse.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 13: Bad Halloween - Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bad luck, a little NSFW, fingering, kissing, hickies, biting, some dirty talk.

Type: One shot

Request: N/A

Word Count:

Prompt: Reader has a series of bad Halloweens and Steve tries his best to make it the best best one yet for them

Notes: i feel like i half assed this, I’m still trying to get back into writing help.

You were absolutely dreading Halloween. There was absolutely nothing to be excited about. You thought you’d grow out of it but it seemed to only get worse throughout the years.

Since you were little, you seemed to be cursed on the 31st of October, never able to properly enjoy a single holiday of Halloween. 

As you grew older, you avoided even acknowledging the holiday in hopes that it wouldn’t phase you.

Nevertheless, the evidence of its near presence was plastered through stores and businesses, even the own avengers. With neon orange lights slimy green goblins, black bags and spiderwebs.

Reluctantly joining the devils nights holiday, you decided to go as Karen’s choice of costume in meangirls, excited to answer everyone with “I’m a mouse, duh”

Those who saw the movie, understood, those who didn’t, were confused as to why you were standing in the middle of their living room with lingerie and mouse ears.

The only one who didn’t question it without knowing much of the reference to the movie, was Steve.

Dressed in a black button up and a cape Nat grabbed for him while doing a snack run, he opted to the traditional Dracula costume. A stain of red rubbed against his lips to give the illusion of blood, even in the common choice, he still looked gorgeous.

“You see? It’s not so bad after all. I think you just never had anyone to do anything with or for you during Halloween.”

You promised the team you’d show to their Halloween kickback, even with your superstition. They all swore up and down that this would be the best Halloween yet, especially Steve.

As you walked around with your decorated drink, you began to second guess your choice of costume, feeling all eyes on you. Not your team as much as the unwelcome men you’ve never met, friends of Tony? You weren’t sure.

Three shots in and the music just started playing, alcohol definitely helped with the nerves.

What it didn’t help was all the awkward eye contact. The only person it didn’t feel awful with was Steve, even if he was mentally fucking your brains out.

It wasn’t like Steve even wanted to take the costume off of you, not knowing whether it was because he opted to keep it on or because he was just too desperate to be inside you that he chose not to. 

There had been tension between you both, anyone who spent more than five minutes in the same room with you two could tell.

He played into the boyish shy method of playing with your head, but he couldn’t withhold it anymore around you like this.

Five drinks in and he was already pulling you by your wrist back to your room, nothing was said, just a buzzed smile meeting a lustful face.

“I told you it wasn’t going to be so bad. Over here worried about nothing”

You felt your heart jump, mindlessly letting him tug you around anywhere.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked before being led to your own room. “I just wanna makeout with you.” He admitted in a matter-of-fact manner, which didn’t help your nerves either.

After breathless, warm, open mouthed kisses against your door, Steve’s arms pulled you upwards, pressing his whole body against yours. His cheesy Dracula costume disheveling in the process. You were desperate for him of course, but the way his hands traveled your exposed skin seemed like Steve needed you more than anything.

The music from downstairs was rumbling through the walls and floors, sounds of laughter along with it. If anyone knew how to throw parties, it was Tony Stark.

“You tell me that you love me

And I know that I'm right

'Cause I hear it in the night”

Fitting. You could hear the lyrics faintly, slowly focusing less on what was going on behind the door and more on Steve’s movements.

Your body was crying out for him, feeling his hand wrap around your throat, causing you to abruptly hit his chest, moans fell out of your mouth like they were cries for help. It was no secret you were begging for him to take you and he had every intention to do so. 

There was no time to assess what Steve was going to do next, he was already doing it. His free hand slid down to lift your babydoll, yanking your panties down from your core, only able to shove them down to your knees in a swift move. It was surely enough for him for now. 

“I hear the secrets that you keep

When you're talkin' in your sleep”

Cries fell from your lips as you felt his hard on against your now exposed ass, only disrupted by the fabric of the underside of your babydoll fabric and his pants. You didn’t even have time to complain, before you knew it Steve’s fingertips were pressed against your slick folds. 

Your breath hitched, uncontrollable and desperate. Your head attempted to break from his hold to get a blissful glimpse of what was going on, but he had you pressed firm against him. The more you tugged, the tighter the grip was. 

The only real control you had were your moans along with the very restricted movements of your hips, crying out to have Steve devour you. 

“You look so fucking hot right now you know that baby-” There was no way you could keep your sight straight, especially with the first finger you felt shoved into you. A cry gripped your throat, you almost felt like actual tears were going to stream from the corner of your eyes immediately. 

Steve on the other hand was relishing the torment he was putting you under. He was completely basking in your desperation “You’re bold to walk around like this. Is this how you wanted to end up? letting me use you up. Look at how even your body cries out to me. ” Your eyes closed as Steve deliciously pumped his index finger in and out of your soaked hole. He was the one demeaning you, but he couldn’t get enough of your breathy whimpers and whines that fell from your lips. The way you buckled your hips as your last resort to get more attention only encouraged him to keep his mouth running. 

“Fuck” Steve grunted when he looked to your reflection in front of you both. The dressers mirror exposing your bliss. “Look at how pretty you look” Steve mumbled into your ear as he leaned his head down to pull what he could of your hair away from your face with his chin. The pumping only increasing when he took a good look at you. 

You looked so pathetic and hopeless, only writhing to his touch. 

“This is even better than what I imagined you like.” Steve admitted as he chuckled as he watched your legs jerk in pleasure, wanting to close but your mind convincing them they were better off draped on the sides of Steve’s thighs, leaving you open and exposed for his delight. 

“Such a good girl too” You heard a breathy laugh next to your ear. He kept his pumping steady, your head stupidly unable to stay still, falling from side to side in pleasure. This would only cause Steve’s ego to erupt taller than Tony’s tower. 

“What do you think two fingers would feel like?” He asked into your ear, not expecting you to respond at all. Tightening his grip around your throat, pulsating every so often to let you breath for only half of a second. 

Moans fell from your lips like they were prayers and Steve answered to them immediately. 

Your eyes widened unexpectedly when you felt a second finger trying to enter your hole, slowly sliding in and curling slowly. You could feel the fuzz from the lack of circulation in your head, your eyes starting to meet one another in pleasure.

He kept both fingers in, only tugging them side to side for a few seconds before his lips upturned into a smile at your loosening eyes.

Your knees raised as Steve struggled to get his middle finger into you. You were soaked, to say the least, but Steve’s fingers were huge compared to yours. 

Complaints continued to drool from your lips as eventually Steve prepped you up. He was overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you, he couldn’t admit it now but he was close to climaxing just by toying with you.

“When I hold you in my arms at night

Don't you know you're sleepin' in a spotlight”

Steve forced you to look at yourself in the mirror as he slid the second finger in. You were so lost in bliss, losing count of how many times Steve pumped your creamy liquids in and out of you. Your eyebrows furrowing on and off every time you came. Your nails gripped onto his biceps, whatever muscle you could reach when you were close.

“Pretty frowns, but it feels good right? Good girl, there you go.” Steve sinfully encouraged you as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your whole body trembled, your breathing hitched as he encouraged your moans, pushing the hair away from you face, darkly chuckling to himself to see the mess you’ve become due to his obscene actions. 

He hadn’t even unbuckled his belt and you already soaked his sheets. His grip stayed on your neck as he rubbed his fingertips around your plumped clit, rubbing them lazily across your folds, bringing his soaked fingers to his lips. He watched you as you whimpered at the loss of friction, sucking off the cum briefly. “Such a messy girl. Already fucking came everywhere, I should make you lick it all up.” He groaned, squeezing your neck in the process as a faux punishment.

You didn’t have the slightest clue, but Steve was trying everything in his power to not lose control. Looking down to see your black panties with white stains, glossy folds plump and begging for more, all while you’re lying there, your hands giving up on gripping onto Steve.

Steve wanted to eat you out for hours, but he genuinely felt like if he didn’t stick his dick in you he was going to explode.

Removing his grasp of your neck, he stood up and began to work at his belt. All while you laid there involuntarily whining for more attention. Steve would never admit it, but he secretly loved when you were a handful, he knew it was all because you were desperate for his attention, that’s all it was. It got him off knowing that he caused that much of a commotion in your body to beg for him involuntarily.

Loud banging clashed against your door, still in a haze, you only looked when Steve stopped his movements. The frustration visible in his eyes, especially when the banging didn’t stop “this rooms taken!” He voiced over in hopes the unwelcome visit would disappear.

It did.

Steve’s eyes trailed over to you again, his fingertips pulling away from your folds and up against his lips. Looking at you again as if you were prey, he wanted to take in every second of this encounter. The way you smelt, the way you felt, the way you looked at him, the way your body pleaded for him.

He was going to find every way to make sure you were claimed as his, starting with love bites. His head dipped down to your neck, prepping the spots with his spit. All of his movements sending shivers down your spine.

“You tell me that you love me

And I know that I'm right

'Cause I hear it in the night”

The bites turned into hickies, marking you in the darkest shade he possibly could without hurting you. Breathless moans fell from your lips as he caught some of your sweet spots. The unease of your legs being a dead giveaway, he practically cradled your body, his cape half on and draped over a part of your thighs.

Your hands ran up to comb through his hair, closing your eyes fully submerged in the moment.

He lost himself in marking you, tiny bruises from the grip his fingertips had on you, your heart had to be fluttering and you knew he felt every beat. Your eyelids half opened, you looked over to him and his dedication to leave evidence.

“You tell me that you want me

You tell me that you need me”

Steve was determined to break that Halloween curse of yours and it was working. “Maybe you just ought to spend more Halloween’s with me”