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starsenha · 1 month ago

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HALLOWEEN NIGHT / L.H

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x harddom!heeseung

Genre ◊ SMUT, established relationship

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), kinda roleplay, chocking, lots of cursing, degradation, fingering, lots and lots of dirty talk, bigdick!hee, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, against a wall

Word count ◊ 5,2k

Summary ◊ it was halloween and you decided to stay home with your boyfriend. you thought it would be a quiet movie night, until you were talking and you told him serial killers kinda turn you on.

a/n: 😀😀 hee has me on a chokehold recently sooooooo, enjoy!

It was a chilly Halloween night, and you and your boyfriend Heeseung had decided to spend it in the cozy warmth of your apartment. While the rest of the world was out attending costume parties, trick-or-treating, or watching horror movies, you both opted for a more intimate and relaxed night in. Candles flickered around the living room, and the scent of pumpkin-spice lattes hung in the air. The windows were cracked open just enough to let the cool breeze sneak in, adding to the autumnal ambiance. You sat across from each other on the couch, your legs curled under a thick blanket as you sipped on wine, engaged in casual conversation.

But tonight, the conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

You had always been open with Heeseung, never hiding your thoughts or desires. Tonight was no exception. As the topic wandered from one thing to another, you finally admitted something you’d kept buried for a while.

“I’ve always been… kind of into serial killers,” you said, your voice low but steady, your gaze meeting his as if daring him to be shocked. “I know it sounds crazy, but there's just something about it, something thrilling. Dangerous.”

Heeseung’s brows shot up in surprise. He wasn’t naive about your personality — you had always shown him you were more than the "good girl" everyone assumed you were on campus. He loved that side of you, the one that craved excitement and darkness. But this? This was new. He leaned back slightly, his lips curling into an amused grin.

“Oh?” he said, his voice deepening with curiosity. “Serial killers, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip, feeling a little heat rise to your cheeks. But you didn’t feel embarrassed. Not with him. “I find it… hot. Sexy, even. Knives, the thrill of being hunted. It just does something to me.”

Heeseung blinked, clearly processing what you had just said, but there was no judgment in his eyes. If anything, his expression only became more intrigued. He let out a short laugh, shaking his head slightly. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“I know,” you said, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “Does it freak you out?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Not at all. I mean, I always knew you had a wild side, but damn.”

He scooted closer to you on the couch, the blanket shifting as he moved. There was something darker, more intense in his eyes now. As if a switch had flipped. You could feel the shift in the atmosphere, your heart pounding a little harder as his fingers grazed your thigh.

Then he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. “What if I were a killer, and you were my next victim? What would you do?”

The question sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just his words but the way he said them — his tone dripping with menace, yet still teasing. The line between playful and dangerous blurred instantly, your mind spinning as your pulse quickened. You swallowed, your voice trembling with excitement.

“I-I guess I’d run,” you said, almost breathless.

Heeseung smirked, his eyes flashing with something darker. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding it just tight enough to make you feel the tension. “You’d run? Good. I’d chase you. And when I catch you, I’d make sure you knew just how much trouble you’re in.”

Your breath hitched. You were entirely caught up in the moment, the shift in energy sending a thrill through your body. He was so good at this, so convincing. It was like his entire demeanor had transformed. The Heeseung you knew, the sweet, playful boyfriend, had vanished — replaced by someone darker. Someone dangerous.

“Run,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. His grip on your wrist loosened just enough for you to slip free.

You didn’t think twice. You bolted off the couch, your heart pounding in your chest as you darted towards the hallway. It felt ridiculous, but at the same time, thrilling. Your legs carried you down the hallway, past the bathroom, towards the bedroom. You could hear his footsteps behind you, slow and deliberate, but menacing in a way that sent a jolt of excitement through you. You knew he wasn’t rushing after you — he was savoring the chase, playing the part.

You ducked into the bedroom, your breath coming in quick bursts, your pulse racing. The thrill of being hunted made your body tingle with excitement. You quickly hid behind the door, pressing your back against the wall, trying to control your breathing. Your mind raced as you listened for his footsteps.

The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Heeseung moved closer. You could almost hear your own heartbeat in your ears, a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Then, his voice broke through the silence.

“Where are you hiding, baby?” Heeseung called out, his voice calm but with a sinister edge that made your skin prickle. “I’ll find you. And when I do, you’re mine.”

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making a noise. Every part of you was buzzing with a mixture of fear and arousal. He was so good at this, it was almost terrifying.

Then, you heard the bedroom door creak open. You held your breath, pressing yourself further against the wall. Heeseung stepped into the room, and you could feel his presence, his calm but dangerous energy filling the space. He was close now, so close.

Suddenly, you heard the unmistakable sound of something metal scraping along the doorframe. You peeked out from your hiding spot and saw him holding a knife — not real, but the fake one he’d used for his Halloween costume last year. It glinted in the dim light of the room, and the sight of it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it wasn’t real, but the image of him holding it was enough to make your heart race even faster.

“I know you’re in here,” Heeseung said, his voice dark and smooth. “You can’t hide from me forever.”

You couldn’t help it — a small whimper escaped your lips. Heeseung’s head snapped in your direction, his eyes locking onto you in an instant.

“There you are,” he purred, his voice sending another thrill through you.

You bolted from your hiding spot, trying to make a dash for the door, but Heeseung was faster. He grabbed you, pinning you against the wall in one swift, practiced motion. His body pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. The knife was pressed lightly against your throat — not enough to hurt, but just enough to send your pulse skyrocketing.

“You didn’t run fast enough, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now you’re mine.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding against your chest. The fear, the thrill of it all, had you completely entranced. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, filled with a mixture of amusement and something far more dangerous.

"Look at you," Heeseung growled, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “All worked up because you like dangerous shit, huh?”

You tried to respond, but his grip on your face tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you still. Your heart pounded in your chest, the mixture of fear and arousal overwhelming every sense.

“Fuck,” he scoffed, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “I didn’t know you were this filthy, baby. Liking knives and serial killers? You’re even freakier than I thought.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a wave of heat through your body. “What’s wrong with you?” he mocked, his voice dark and teasing. “Huh? Does this shit really get you wet?”

Heeseung’s free hand trailed down your body, fingers ghosting over the curves of your waist, deliberately slow, teasing. His touch was rough, your skin tingled under his fingers, the anticipation driving you insane.

“You’re sick,” he continued, his voice thick. “Getting off on being hunted like some prey. Do you even realize how fucked up that is?”

You whimpered, the tension in the air building to an almost unbearable level. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you responded to his words. His hand finally settled on your throat, not squeezing too hard, but enough to remind you that he had all the power in this moment.

“What’s that, baby?” he cooed mockingly. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy dripping over the thought of me fucking you like the dirty little slut you are?”

Your body trembled under his grip, the combination of his degrading words and the roughness of his touch sending a wave of heat straight to your pussy. Heeseung’s smirk only deepened when he saw the effect he was having on you.

“Yeah,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin. “You fucking like this, don’t you?”

He chuckled darkly, his hand still gripping your throat as he leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning your body as if you were something he owned, something he could play with however he wanted.

“I should’ve known,” he sneered. “That ‘good girl’ act on campus? Total fucking bullshit. I bet no one knows how much of a dirty little freak you really are. Getting wet for knives and killers. How fucked up is that, baby?”

You tried to speak, but Heeseung’s grip on your throat tightened just enough to cut off any response. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke.

“Tell me,” he hissed. “What else gets you off? Huh? Is it the thought of me chasing you down, pinning you to the ground, making you beg for me to stop?”

Heeseung's words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn’t help but whimper, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. He chuckled, low and dangerous.

“Fucking pathetic,” he mocked, shaking his head. “I barely even touched you, and you’re already whining like a little bitch.”

Heeseung’s hand finally left your throat, but before you could even process the loss of his grip, he grabbed your waist roughly, spinning you around and shoving you against the wall. The impact sent a thrill through you, your cheek pressing against the cool surface as his body pressed into yours from behind. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and rough, his touch almost punishing.

“Bet you’d love that,” he continued, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “Me hunting you down like some fucking animal. Catching you and making you scream my name. You’d probably fucking love it if I tied you up, left you helpless, wouldn’t you?”

You gasped as his hand slid between your legs, the roughness of his touch sending a shockwave through you. His fingers ghosted over your panties, accessible because of the skirt you were wearing.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his fingers brushing against the heat of your pussy. “Fuck, you really are a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again, the sound desperate and needy. But Heeseung wasn’t having it. He pulled his hand away abruptly, making you gasp in frustration. You tried to push back against him, but he quickly grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind you and against your back.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he mocked, his voice a low growl. “You don’t get to fucking move until I say so.”

You bit your lip, your body trembling with need. Heeseung chuckled darkly again, clearly enjoying the power he held over you.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice laced with amusement. “Begging for me without even saying a word. You’re so fucking desperate. Is this what you wanted, baby? For me to treat you like the filthy little whore you are?”

“Yeah,” you finally managed to choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please…”

“Please, what?” he mocked, his grip on your wrists tightening. “Use your fucking words.”

“Please, hee, just… fuck me,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible.

He let out a dark laugh, leaning in so close that his lips brushed your ear again. “Oh, I’ll fuck you, baby. But you’re gonna have to fucking beg for it. Beg me to fuck you like the little slut you are.”

Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on fire. The way he talked to you — it was everything you’d ever fantasized about and more. You needed him, desperately, and the thought of him making you beg only made you want it more.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, hee. Fuck me. I need it. I need you.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied with your response. “That’s more like it,” he growled. “But remember, baby. I’m in fucking control here. And you’re going to take everything I give you.”

Heeseung released your wrists, but before you could even catch your breath, he grabbed your hips roughly, positioning you exactly how he wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, his touch harsh and demanding. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. He made you arch your back, your hips and meeting his.

“Now,” he growled, his voice dark and filled with promise. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll remember exactly who owns you.”

He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back, his lips grazing your ear, and you could feel the raw power radiating off him in waves. You could feel his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation. He dragged one of his hands up your side, rough and deliberate, before his fingers slipped between your legs again, teasing your slick heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice laced with amusement. “You’re soaking. All this just from me talking dirty to you?”

You could barely form words, your body so worked up from the tension he’d been building with every degrading word. You pushed back against him, desperate for more, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed your hips again, roughly holding you in place, preventing you from moving.

“Ah, not so fast,” he mocked, a dark laugh escaping his lips. “You’re not ready yet, baby. I’m not about to just fuck you like this without prepping you, or I'll hurt you."

You let out a small, needy whimper, your head spinning. Your breath hitched as his words sunk in, your body trembling even more under his touch. Heeseung wasted no time, sliding his fingers through your slick folds, spreading your arousal as he circled your clit with rough, teasing strokes. You moaned, your body arching involuntarily as the pleasure started to build.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his voice dark and rough with lust. “You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, Hee… I need you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “You’re gonna get me, baby. Every fucking inch. But I want you to be ready.”

Without warning, he slid one finger inside you, slow and deliberate, making you moan softly at the sudden intrusion. He was teasing you, taking his time as he pumped his finger in and out, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to push deeper. Your body responded instantly, hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, clearly enjoying the way you clenched around him. “I’m gonna have to stretch you out real good if you’re gonna take my cock.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, the anticipation making your body tingle with need. Heeseung added another finger, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you as he began thrusting them in and out, faster this time, his touch rough and demanding. You moaned louder, your body reacting to every movement, every thrust of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. “Take it, baby. You can handle this, can’t you?”

You nodded frantically, unable to form words as the pleasure built inside you, your body practically trembling under his dominance. His fingers moved faster, rougher, hitting all the right spots, and you could feel the tension in your core starting to coil tighter and tighter. He was prepping you, but he was also pushing you closer to the edge.

“You like that?” Heeseung mocked, his lips brushing against your ear again. “Being fucked by my fingers? I bet you’re imagining how good my cock’s gonna feel inside you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, f-fuck” you moaned, your voice shaky, desperate. “I want it. I want you.”

He let out a dark chuckle, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your legs weak. You gasped, your body jerking at the sensation, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you in place.

“I know you do, baby,” he growled. “But you need to be patient. I’m gonna stretch you out until you’re begging for my cock. And when I finally give it to you, I’m not gonna hold back. You’ll be fucking screaming my name.”

You whimpered, the mixture of pleasure and anticipation becoming almost unbearable. Heeseung added a third finger, the stretch sending a sharp thrill through your body as he worked you open, thrusting his fingers in and out of you with rough, relentless precision. You moaned louder, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, and Heeseung’s lips curled into a wicked grin at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re such a little slut,” he sneered, his voice dripping with amusement. “Getting off on my fingers like this. I can feel how close you are. But you’re not coming yet. Not until my cock’s inside you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body desperate for release. But Heeseung wasn’t giving you any mercy. He pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, making you gasp in frustration, your body aching from the sudden loss of sensation.

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice filled with dark promise. “You don’t get to come until I’m buried deep, deep, inside you.”

You whimpered, your body trembling with need, and Heeseung chuckled darkly at your desperation. He shifted behind you, positioning himself so that you could feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, the sensation making your heart race. He was big — and even after a year, it still surprised you every time.

Heeseung gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back against him as he lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed just the tip in, slow and teasing, the stretch making you gasp. He held himself there for a moment, his breath hot against your neck, and you could feel every inch of him as he pressed against your slick heat.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “You’re gonna take all of me, baby. Every fucking inch.”

You moaned softly, your body trembling as he began to push deeper, the sensation of him stretching you open making your legs weak. He moved slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you, inch by inch, the stretch almost overwhelming.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “I can feel how desperate you are. You’re practically choking my cock, baby.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as he finally buried himself fully inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely making your head spin. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his grip on your hips tight and possessive.

Then, without warning, he pulled out halfway and slammed back into you with a rough, brutal thrust. You moaned loudly, the sudden impact sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body, and Heeseung chuckled darkly at your reaction.

“Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You like being fucked rough. You like it when I own you like this.”

You could barely respond, your body trembling with pleasure as he began to fuck you with hard, relentless thrusts, each one driving deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and Heeseung’s voice was dark and rough as he degraded you with every word.

“Take it,” he growled. “Take every fucking inch of me. You’re mine. My filthy little slut.”

You moaned loudly, your body trembling under the force of his thrusts, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight. I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the tension in your core building rapidly, the pleasure overwhelming every sense.

Heeseung’s pace was relentless, his rough, powerful thrusts leaving you breathless and trembling. The sensation of him deep inside you, filling you completely, was overwhelming. Your mind spun, barely able to process the intensity of it all. The room seemed to blur around you, the only thing grounding you being the feel of Heeseung’s strong hands gripping your hips, the sound of his ragged breath against your ear, and the harsh slap of his body against yours.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled, his voice deep and rough with lust. “Tight, warm, squeezing me like you never want me to stop.”

He drove into you harder, faster, each thrust shaking your entire body, and you were already teetering on the edge. The overwhelming pleasure coiled tight in your core, the knot growing tighter with each second as he pounded into you, not giving you a moment to breathe.

“I can feel you getting close,” he sneered, leaning in close to your ear. “You’re already about to come, aren’t you? I can feel how fucking desperate you are.”

You tried to respond, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a helpless moan. You were trembling, your body barely able to handle the intensity of his movements. You felt like you were going to explode, your entire body burning with pleasure as you clenched around him, trying to hold onto the last threads of control.

“Go on,” Heeseung growled, his voice dark and filled with amusement. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you lose it.”

His words sent you over the edge. With a desperate moan, you came hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. Your legs buckled beneath you, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you up, his pace never faltering. The way he kept driving into you, even as you pulsed around him, made your orgasm last longer, dragging you into a state of blissful helplessness.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Heeseung groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re fucking perfect when you come. Look at you, barely able to stand. So fucking ruined for me.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and you thought he might slow down, give you a moment to recover. But Heeseung had no intention of letting you rest. Instead, he pulled out for just a second, flipping you around so that you were now facing him. Before you could even catch your breath, he pushed you up against the wall again, lifting one of your legs and hooking it around his waist. With one rough thrust, he buried himself deep inside you once more, the sudden sensation making you cry out.

He started fucking you again, even rougher this time, each thrust harder and more intense than the last. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, and the overstimulation made your head spin. Your body was already trembling, barely able to keep up with the way he was taking you. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, baby. I know you’re close again. I can feel it.”

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, your body shaking as the pleasure built again, faster this time. You couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop yourself from spiraling towards another orgasm, and Heeseung knew it. He smirked, his hands gripping your hips harder as he increased the intensity of his thrusts, driving deeper into you with every movement.

“Come for me again,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding. “Come on, baby, I know you want to. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

You couldn’t hold back. With a desperate cry, you came again, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure crashed over you, even stronger than the first time. Your mind went blank, the sensation overwhelming every sense, your body completely at Heeseung’s mercy.

“That’s it,” Heeseung groaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you pulsing around him. “Fuck, you’re so good for me. Coming like that again and again. You love it, don’t you?”

You were too far gone to answer, your body shaking as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. But Heeseung didn’t slow down. He kept fucking you, his thrusts hard and relentless, pushing you further and further into a haze of pleasure. Your mind couldn’t keep up, the overstimulation making your body twitch with every thrust, your moans becoming more desperate, more breathless.

“You’re mine,” Heeseung growled, his voice dripping with dominance. “You’re fucking mine, and I’m not stopping until I get every last fucking drop out of you.”

You whimpered, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure built again. You didn’t think it was possible, but Heeseung was driving you towards another orgasm, your body responding to him even though you were already completely spent. The overstimulation was almost too much, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Look at you,” he sneered, his voice filled with dark amusement. “You can barely fucking stand, and you’re still so desperate for more. You really are a little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form words as your body trembled under his relentless pace. “I’m yours… Heeseung, please…”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “You’re fucking mine.”

With one last hard thrust, he drove you over the edge again, your body convulsing as another orgasm tore through you. This one was different — it was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t even think. Your vision blurred, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure consumed you entirely. You could barely breathe, your mind completely blank as you fell apart for him.

Heeseung groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, his own breath ragged and uneven. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “You’re fucking perfect when you come for me like that.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, your body trembling and weak, but Heeseung wasn’t done with you yet. He didn’t stop, didn’t give you a moment to recover. His thrusts were still as hard and rough as ever, pushing you further and further into a haze of pleasure and overstimulation. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, your body completely at his mercy as he took everything from you.

“Tell me,” Heeseung growled, his voice low and commanding. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you gasped, barely able to form the words. “I belong to you.”

Heeseung smirked, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Damn right you do,” he growled. “And I’m not stopping until you’ve come so many times you can’t fucking think straight.”

He wasn’t lying. You lost track of how many times he made you come after that. Each orgasm blurred into the next, the pleasure overwhelming every sense until your mind was nothing but a haze of need and desire. You were shaking, trembling, barely able to form coherent thoughts, but Heeseung didn’t stop. He kept pushing you, kept driving you towards the edge over and over again, his voice dark and commanding in your ear.

By the time he finally let you collapse, you were completely spent, your body trembling and weak. You could barely think, your mind still spinning from the intensity of everything he’d done to you. But as Heeseung pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, you couldn’t help but feel completely satisfied, completely owned by him.

“You did so good, baby,” Heeseung whispered softly, his voice filled with affection now that the storm had passed. “So fucking good for me.”

You barely had the energy to respond, but you smiled, feeling safe and content in his arms.

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jaylalolz · 2 months ago

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❛ 𝐌𝐑 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

ENEMY!reader x ENEMY!nicholas

SUMMARY, Nicholas didn’t enjoy attending parties, but he was forced to attend one. he immediately is drawn to a fascinating girl he saw, with a mask, only to discover that she is his only enemy.

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

A/N, i love this plot sm. i hope you guys enjoy!! make sure to heart and leave a comment 🪽

The Halloween party was full, the throbbing beat of the music vibrating through the walls of the old house. Fog machines puffed clouds of smoke that snaked between costumed dancers, and the flashing strobe lights made it hard to tell where one person ended and another began. Everyone was masked, faces hidden behind elaborate disguises. Nicholas stood near the edge of the dance floor, observing the chaos around him through the dark eyeholes of his Ghostface mask.

He hated parties, hated the noise, hated the feeling of people crowding in too close. But what he hated most of all was her. Yet here he was, lingering on the outside because she was supposed to be here tonight. He didn’t know why it mattered—maybe he just wanted to see what kind of ridiculous costume she’d chosen. Probably something overly dramatic, like her personality.

Nicholas tugged at the sleeve of his black robe, adjusting the plastic knife in his hand. His friends had laughed when he chose the Ghostface costume, saying it was cliché. But right now, he was thankful for the anonymity it provided. He could watch, unbothered, shielded by the mask.

He scanned the room. People twirled and laughed, faces painted in ghoulish shades of makeup, masks obscuring their identities. Then he saw her.

She stood at the bar, her dark curls cascading down her back, black lace gloves covering her hands as she leaned against the counter. She was dressed in a black corset, the burgundy velvet of her skirt flowing around her legs. Her lips were painted a deep red, and even through her masquerade mask, Nicholas could tell she was trouble.

He didn’t know who she was, but there was something magnetic about her. Something familiar, though he couldn’t place it.

His feet moved before his brain could catch up, taking him toward the bar where she stood. She was sipping from a crimson-colored drink, her eyes scanning the crowd with an air of detached amusement.

Nicholas cleared his throat as he approached, and she turned to look at him, her gaze flicking over his Ghostface costume. She raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.

“Nice mask,” she said, her voice smooth, but there was an edge to it, like she wasn’t easily impressed.

“You too,” he replied, though he had no idea what her costume was supposed to be. He wasn’t exactly up to date on vampire shows or whatever dark, gothic look she was pulling off.

She tilted her head, her eyes glittering beneath the mask. “Katherine.”

“Ghostface,” he shot back, earning him a chuckle.

Without another word, she downed the rest of her drink, then slid the glass across the bar. Her gloved hand extended toward him, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Dance?”

He hesitated for a second. Dancing wasn’t his thing, but something about her made it hard to say no. Maybe it was the mystery, the way her body moved with fluid grace, or the way she didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. And that smirk—it was infuriatingly tempting.

He grabbed her hand, the warmth of her fingers a surprise through the lace gloves, and let her lead him onto the dance floor.

The music shifted to something slower but still pulsing with energy, the bass thrumming through his chest. Around them, people swayed, masks blending into the darkened space, the flashing lights creating a disorienting blur of color.

She moved in closer, her body pressing against his as they danced. Nicholas felt the sharpness of her hips against his as she swayed, her arms snaking up around his neck. The contact sent a jolt through him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he moved with her, their bodies falling into rhythm.

For a moment, he forgot about everything—the party, the rivalry, the irritation that always bubbled under the surface when he thought of her. All that existed was the masked woman in front of him, and the strange pull between them.

She tilted her head up, her lips barely an inch from his ear. “You dance better than I thought.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Nicholas muttered, his voice low, but there was no venom in his tone. It was strange, the way she was getting under his skin, making him forget about the person he usually was—the person who was always at odds with someone else.

“Big talk for someone hiding behind a mask,” she teased, her breath warm against his neck.

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back, his grip tightening on her waist. The banter felt effortless, but different. There wasn’t the usual bite to it. Just an undercurrent of something electric.

She let out a low laugh, her body pressing even closer, her hand sliding up to his mask. “What if I take it off?”

He froze, his heart thudding. For some reason, he didn’t want her to know who he was. Not yet.

“What if I don’t want you to?” he replied, his voice a little rougher, his thumb brushing over the fabric of her glove.

She paused, eyes flicking up to meet his through her mask. For a moment, the space between them crackled with tension—like they were standing on the edge of something neither of them quite understood.

Instead, her lips curled into a small, knowing smirk. Without a word, she nodded toward the stairs, a silent invitation.

Nicholas hesitated for a second, his thoughts tangled. Should he do this? But something about the way she moved, the subtle tilt of her head. It felt different. More dangerous.

And despite every instinct telling him to walk away, he found himself moving toward her.

She turned and started up the stairs, her skirt swaying with each step, and Nicholas followed, his heartbeat quickening. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn into whatever this was. The rest of the party faded away behind them, the noise muffled as they climbed higher, leaving the crowd below.

At the top of the stairs, she paused, glancing back at him with that same mischievous smile. "Coming?" she asked, her voice a little breathless, though still laced with challenge.

"Do I have a choice?" he muttered, his tone sharp, though his feet kept moving toward her.

"You always have a choice, ghostface," she replied, her gaze flicking over him like she was daring him to turn back.

But he didn’t.

She led him down a quiet hallway, stopping in front of a door that was cracked slightly open. Her fingers brushed the doorknob before she pushed it open wider, revealing a small, dimly lit room. It looked like a guest bedroom, draped in soft shadows from the single lamp in the corner. The sound of the party downstairs seemed miles away now, the noise distant and muted.

She stepped inside, casting a glance over her shoulder. "So," she said, her voice lower now, softer, but still carrying that familiar edge, "was the dance everything you expected?"

Nicholas stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, the click of the latch loud in the quiet space. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with careful eyes. "What are you playing at?"

She shrugged, moving to the center of the room, her fingers trailing along the edge of the bed. "Who says I’m playing?"

"Why did you invite me back here," he shot back, his eyes narrowing.

Her lips quirked up, but it wasn’t the smug smile he was used to. There was something else there, something more dangerous hiding just beneath the surface. "Wanna play a game, Mr ghostface?," she said quietly, turning to face him fully.

Nicholas swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yes" he says, his voice more certain than he intended.

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest. "Simon says.. lay on the bed" Her eyes searched his, her hand lingering over the fabric of his shirt.

Nicholas tensed under her touch, his heart pounding. Every fiber of his being told him this was a trap, that she was playing with him. But another part of him, the part that had spent the entire night dancing with her, wasn’t so sure.

"Okay" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He lays down right at the center of the bed.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark. She starts crawling to him in all fours and sits on his crotch; making him gasp. “Wanna make a deal with the devil?”

Her words hung in the air between them, thick and heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Nicholas felt his pulse quicken, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Before he could think about it any longer, she was closer, her breath warm against his neck as she looked up at him. Her hand slid up, fingers lightly grazing his neck. "What’s the matter, Ghostface?" she murmured, her voice teasing but softer now, more intimate. "Scared of a challenge?"

But instead, he reached out, his fingers sliding through the soft curls at the back of her neck, pulling her closer. "I never back down from a challenge," he whispered, his breath mingling with hers.

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a moment, they were frozen, caught between something much more dangerous.

She took a slow, deliberate lean closer, looking up at him with that same devilish smile. “Simon says.. take my corset off”

He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, but then his hand moved finding the ribbons on her corset and untying them. She didn't move, her eyes locked on his, and the air between them crackled with tension.

"Good boy," she said softly, her lips curving up into a satisfied smile.

“Tell me you want this.” she demands

He nods his head eagerly. “Y-Yes i want it..” he says softly.

"You wanna grind a bit baby?" she smirks in interest. He nods in desperation, dying for it at this point.

He undoes his belt and is about to undo his jeans. His bulge is visible when he unzips, but it is kept hidden by his briefs.

He gently begins to rub himself up and down against her as he rubs his confined erection against her covered core. Her lips parted with an involuntary whimper into his as her gut clenched a sharp knot at the sensitivity.

Her lips twitched at his mercy, pressing herself up against him through the flimsy covering they wore. Her legs began to expand, which allowed him an enormous amount of access. He stretches out his hand to take a firm hold of her hair. "Fuck sakes—that feels good." she responds, pushing his bulge up and down.

He grabs her throat with a forceful motion and turns them over onto the large bed. He reaches down into her panties and runs two fingers up her slit while hovering above her. "Are you soaking wet for me, princess?"

He touched her clit, and she parted my lips. He holds her throat, caressing her core with his fingers.

"You sure you want this?" For the last time, he says. She nods rapidly, aching all over now and pleading to feel him. She cusses, unable to wait any longer, "Please fuck me."

He slowly presses his hips forward while maintaining his position. He drives his tip inside her calmly, her body stretching around him. "Fuck..." He lets out a low sigh.He gives a deep sigh of relief as he pushes just past the head, freezing with just enough. Along with the sensation came a surge of intense pressure and pleasure.

He tries to ease her into the change very slowly, rocking with only half of himself.

“Shit.." He whispers to himself. "You're so tight”

He continues to press until she eventually feels his hips reach the back of her thigh, which was now fully in contact with his chest. She threw back her head and stretched a little, gasping out as she was so full and tight around him. "I can feel you clench around me.." With a stutter of delight, he stammers into the air, the squeeze tightly holding him.

He begins to make more rhythmic hip movements. She felt a warm sensation of pleasure begin to flare up in her lower abdomen as he began to swear. She arched her back involuntarily, but he quickly secured her back into a flat position on the bed.

"Yes— right there." she cried out in pleasure. Her fingers came in contact with her mask as she yanks it out of her face.

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

It was her. His rival. The girl he couldn't stand-the one who always got under his skin, who infuriated him more than anyone else.

The realization sent a thrill of anger— and something else-coursing through him. “Fuck!” She presses against his shoulder as he loses control and grips the back of her neck, slamming her against him. She gasped at the abrupt angle, but before she could react, he grabbed hold of her and began thrusting up into her.

He shouldn’t have continued what he was doing when he realized she was rival his him. But instead, it motivated him to move more quickly. She slams her head back against the mattress. Her thighs quivering in his presence. She was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that she didn't say anything during the high.

She groans at the sensitivity even though she was suddenly exhausted by his sloppy and sluggish thrusting. She couldn't take her eyes off him, even if her lids were heavy.

He twitches inside her, then instantly releases his hold on her stomach by pulling out. Releasing in his climax, he was death grasping the bed cushion above and behind her head. his big hands gripping her sides and his head was buried in her chest.

“Are you gonna take your mask off?”

“I think It’s best If I don’t”

#nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x reader #smut

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malavera · 4 months ago

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Cosplay (18+) — Hugh Jackman One Shot

pairing: hugh jackman x female reader

summary: Your hubby came home after filming one of the scenes for Deadpool & Wolverine with his costume on to surprise you

warning: SMUT! MDNI. PWP. Wolverine cosplay sex, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, the use of pet name bub (bubby / bubba)

a/n: i had this scenario every time i went to bed

"Bub, I'm home! Where are you?"

"In the kitchen!" Your voice echoes through the house, a playful lilt in your tone as you rinse the last plate under the warm, soapy water. The clatter of dishes is almost soothing, a rhythm you've come to appreciate in the quiet moments.

But then, without warning, a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you into a firm, familiar embrace. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the roughness of his stubble grazing against the soft skin of your shoulder blade. His warmth envelops you, seeping through your clothes, and suddenly the kitchen feels too small, too intimate.

"You’ve eaten without me?" His voice is a low, teasing rumble against your ear, and you can’t help but smile, even as your heart races.

"Well, I figured you'd be late, so..." You trail off, your voice faltering as you quickly dry your hands on a nearby towel. But when you turn around, the air catches in your throat.

Standing before you, with that trademark smirk you know all too well, is your lover. But tonight, he’s not just himself—he’s transformed. Draped in the iconic yellow and blue, his muscles defined by the snug fabric of Wolverine's original suit, he embodies the fierce, feral energy of the comic book legend. His eyes flash with mischief, and the scowl he wears—so perfectly in character—sends a thrill through you.

You stare, wide-eyed, your breath hitching as the reality of the moment sets in. The air feels heavy, charged with anticipation, and your mouth goes dry as you try to swallow, your body betraying you. He steps closer, the leather of his costume creaking ever so slightly, and you know—this night is far from over.

"H-Hugh..." The name slips from your lips, barely a whisper, as you stare, utterly transfixed.

His grin widens, the mischievous glint in his eyes sharpening. "What's the matter, bub? Cat got your tongue?" His voice is a low, teasing growl, sending a jolt of excitement through you.

You stumble back, the cool edge of the kitchen counter pressing against your spine as he advances, his presence overwhelming, magnetic. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't tear your eyes away from him—this man, your lover, transformed into something untamed, almost primal.

A nervous laugh escapes you, breathless and trembling. "You look... incredible." The words come out in a rush, your voice barely steady. He’s so close now, the scent of leather and cologne filling your senses, and you know there’s no turning back.

"C'mere.." He muttered, an arm snatching to hug your waist pulling you close to him before he tilted his head, enough so the pointy nose of the scowl wouldn't poke you, to pull you in for a hungry kiss. You gasp, trying to follow his rhythm.

Hugh grabs a handful of your hair, tugging it, earning a loud moan from you. As your mouth went agape that's his moment to shove his tongue deeper. The heated make out session sent you to heaven without realizing everything around you as you are now being seated on top of the kitchen counter, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them.

"You miss me bub?" Hugh asks in between the kiss.

"S'much, daddy." You mewled and he groaned.

"Please, daddy. Do something.. to me." You moaned.

"Yeah? What do you want daddy to do huh? Tell me." He's teasing you. He knows exactly what you need, it's your second favorite thing about him; his fingers. He's so good with it. The way he would put one in, and then shove the other, thrusting in and out of your glistening cunt. Your favorite part is when he curls them inside you before he repeatedly flicks them.

"Want your fingers, daddy."

"These fingers, baby?" He tilted his head, acting dumbfounded, as the tips of his finger made a circle against your clothed pussy. "Yeah?" He pressed the pad of his fingers right against your clothed clit.

"Ah.. Yes." You gasp, smiling.

"You're soaked already, bub. What's gotten you so eager for me? Is this the suit? Huh? You love seeing your daddy in his costume?" He taunted.

You can only nod as you enjoy the way his fingers rubbing your, still clothed, cunt. "Daddy, please. I've been good. I deserve this."

"Of course you do, baby." You gasp once you felt one of his fingers enter your throbbing cunt. You shrieked when you felt his other hand make a handful of your hair and tugged your head back, making you watch him.

"Look at me when I'm making you feel this good, bub." There goes the second finger, entering. And he does your favorite thing, finger-fucking you.

You whimpered, closing your eyes briefly. "Urgh.. Daddy you're so good.. You're so good with my pussy." Between the two of you here, you both have the praise kink. He's an actor, of course he loves being praised for his skills and performances. You both are a master at this department, though only your words can get him going.

"Yeah? Like that bub? Tell daddy how it feels... So good yeah?" He coo’ed.

"Yeah.. Yeah.. so good daddy, deeper.. OH!" You gasped out a loud moan at the end once you feel him pushing in his fingers deep into your cunt.

"Only my fingers can play with this cunt, right bub? My cunt." He grunted.

"Yes, yes daddy! It's your cunt!" You whimpered, feeling as you're about to reach your high; You gasp once more when he harshly tug his fingers out of your cunt, jolting your body forward.

"W-what.." You breathlessly said.

"You're gonna have to cum on my cock, bub." He hastily spoke as he tries to take his heavy cock out of his pants. Swallowing down your saliva, you watch as he give himself a couple of jerks before tapping his heavy cock against your pussy, indicating he’s about to go in. Not that he’d need your permission to.

Your mouth fell agape watching the big tip of his cock, slowly entering your soaked folds, feeling every inch of his cock going in even the raging veins felt like they’re scratching the insides of your warm cunt. Hugh roughly grabs you by your neck, forcing you to look him in the eyes that are covered with the wolverine scowl.

“Look at me when i’m fucking you, bub.” He harshly spoke as he starts to move his hips back and forth, gently at first before he picks up the pace, turning the peaceful atmosphere filled with your moaning mess.

You’d never imagine you’d see the night filled with Hugh fucking you on top of the kitchen island with his super hot wolverine costume on. All you could think about is how this costume would be the one where people all around the world would see later in the movie theater once it’s coming out. And the fact that he has fucked you in it, makes your pussy flutters as he is not stopping anytime soon. The nasty sound of your pussy milking his heavy cock that is formed from the mixed of your fluid fills the entire kitchen. And you wished you could watch yourself being fucked by the wolverine in third person’s point of view.

“What are you thinking about bub?” Hugh piston his hips to a certain angle which caused you to loudly moan. “You’re thinking about how good i’m fucking you right, bub? You never want me to stop right, honey?” Hugh coo’ed.

“N-no, daddy. I never want you to stop. I want you to make me cum, please it feels so good!” You cried, your hands went up to play with your tits.

“Oh yes, play with those tits bub. My tits. Fuck, this cunt is so good I can never get enough.” Hugh grunted. He pulls you closer to him making your hips lying at the edge of the counter.

All you wanted is to get him to cum deep inside you. You could feel the brush of his pubic hair from every stroke, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. You’re going to cum anytime soon. But something is growing inside you and it’s inching closer, any seconds now.

“W-wait, Daddy, stop, something’s wrong!” You shrieked.

And you know better from stoping your beloved from fucking you hard, he will never listen. But instead, he gripped your hips harder and thrusts his cock in and out of you with a godly fast pace.

“Fuck, fuck, Daddy!” You screamed as you forcefully pushing yourself away from him before you feel yourself reaching your high. You couldn’t contain it, it sprayed everywhere, even to his costume. Your thighs are shaking, your chest heaves up and down.

Hugh stood there groaning as he just witnessed his baby squirted out. “Fffuckk… Bub, that was amazing.” He muttered, but he’s not stopping there. He grabbed his cock, aiming the tip against your entrance, softly rubbing it against your hole first.

“W-wait, I don’t think I-..”

“Shut up, Bub. Daddy hasn’t cum yet.” He hissed as he pushed the tip of his cock into your entrance.

Your pussy purred, “Oh.” You gasped, feeling a little bit embarrassed. But, Hugh loved it.

“Do you think you can give it to me one more time bub? This time, squirt on my cock?”

#Malavera #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman dirty imagine #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine smut #logan x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine dirty imagines #logan howlett dirty imagines #hugh jackman dirty imagines

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cherubfae · 1 month ago

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𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔨 || {𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪}

In thick dick we trust

|| 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐅𝐀𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ||

tags: smut, NSFW, fem!reader, breeding, blowjobs, fingering, slight angst/fix-it-fic and spoilers for JJK (Gojo), predator/prey dynamics, public sex, no foreplay (in some), monster fucking, belly bulge, impossible standards but we can dream, unprotected sex, slight dubcon (pyramid head), this is a trail mix of all sorts of some of my favorite men (and my bestie's)!!. Pls enjoy!!

leon's is a bit short bc he's got a halloween treat comin' up ;D

Leon

"This is not a good idea." Leon's voice hisses next to your ear. Ever the hypocrite, he's not one to heed his own warning. He is far too focused on tugging his pants half-way down his ass, panting hotly at your ear, the clasps of his belt jingling together as he frees his swollen cock. His fingers push into your hole, messily stretching you out. Knowing you two don't have much time, he pulled them out after, lapping at your essence with a pleased moan. "So fuckin' good, princess."

Sinking into you with a guttural groan, Leon snaps his hips into you. His shirt is messily pulled up to his abdomen, biting his lip to conceal any moans. You back your ass up, meeting his thrusts as quickly and most importantly, as quietly as possible.

"I know this is rushed but you gotta try to relax for me, baby." He kisses just below your ear. "You were the one who wanted to fuck at a Halloween party, right? I promise I'll take care of you as much as you need me to when we're home... But for now, loosen up that pussy for this cock you love so much, yeah?" He breathily chuckles.

Zayne

"You're too bold for your own good...," His lashes flutter, his head falling back to rest on his chair. Legs widening, Zayne's breath stutters out of him the deeper you take his rigid length. "Doing such a thing like this in a place of healthcare practice and to a renowned surgeon no less. How naughty."

His heart stutters at your intense gaze between his parted thighs. Pulling off his cock, he can see how his length and your lips glisten with precum and saliva. "You say that... But were you not the one who fingered me to sleep last time I was here?" You smirk as Zayne's ears flush red.

"You said you needed help sleeping... Orgasms can provide that. When all of your muscles are tight during sexual arousal, an orgasm helps relaxes those muscles." Came his clinical response, despite both of you knowing you'd successfully cornered him. You grip his cock once more, relishing in how his hips jerk upwards.

Lapping at his tip, you grin. "And that's what I'm doing just now. My favorite doctor said he needed help relaxing-- and I think this is just what the doctor prescribed." The groan Zayne let out as you lowered your mouth onto him was music to your ears.

Sal Fisher

After your very first successful Halloween party in your new shared apartment, you and Sal giggle and hush one another, messily pulling off each other's costumes. You, a witch and Sal, a skeleton (or as he worded it, your 'willing victim'). With Chase Atlantic playing rhythmically from Sal's old stereo, he pushes you gently onto the soft bed.

Mask left forgotten and his glass eye already out of his socket and cleaning in a cup at his bedside table next to his tiny suction device. You couldn't help but adore him, staring up at him tenderly. You loved that he was able to be so comfortable with you like this. You supposed knowing him since high school and dating since sophomore year helped!

You reach up and cup his scarred cheeks, running your thumb above his missing nose. Sal closes his good eye, breath warm on your palm. He kisses your fingers, covering your hand with his. The passionate energy takes a softer turn, gently pulling off your clothing until you were both laid bare.

"I will never get over how beautiful you are." Sal murmured, his cold hands cupping the swell of your breasts, thumb circling the hardened nipple. His thick cock, surrounded by blue hair, nudges between your folds, though he is no rush to enter. Leaning down, he kisses you softly, an action you readily return.

Pyramid Head

You were easy to corner. It was laughable, really. Pyramid Head couldn't ignore those sweltering feelings any longer. The thrill of hunting you down like small prey had thrilled him to no end. He was sick of those nurses and the mannequins. He wanted something real, someone warm.

The scrape of his Great Knife splitting through concrete and asphalt grated on your ears. Wedging his knife into the crease of the segmented sidewalk, Pyramid Head backs you up against the fence. He towers above you; he has no visible eyes to look at, only the cold, rusted and bloody triangular helmet that presses against your cheek.

A shuddering, inhuman growl bellows like iron rubbing together, followed by a rather curious huff. Something hard pokes at your tummy and your eyes widen, heat rising to your cheeks. This thing... This humanoid embodiment of hate was rock hard, rutting his large erection against the seam of your jeans. His hands grapple for your shoulders, huffing demonically again. Impatient.

Seeing no other choice and admittedly, you were a bit curious. It certainly had been quite some time since someone had craved anything of you. And from what you could see of the great Pyramid Head, your curiosity had been thoroughly piqued.

Shimming your jeans and underwear down, you yelp as Pyramid Head hauls you into his strong arms. One arm barred across your lower back, his large blood covered hand spreads open your folds. Then, the fattest tip you've ever seen pokes out from under his dirtied apron; sliding up your folds to collect your wetness. He rubs himself against you messily, his hand moving to lock at your elbow, keeping you in place.

With immense searing heat, he pushes his thick, swollen cock into your tight channel. You feel like you're floating, your head knocking back against the fence. You could feel him stretch you impossibly wide, your tummy extending ever so slightly, and with the frantic upwards cant of his hips, you knew that the beast was far from done.

Gojo Satoru

He was here. He was home. Sukuna was dead. Defeated. The strongest had once again prevailed. Satoru had made it back to you alive.

Satoru approaches you like you were a newborn deer, power thrummed off of him. He'd let his infinity down. You weren't sure what you looked like in that moment, but you imagined he was mirroring your expression back at you. His snow-white hair was messily disheveled, his lips in a wobbly, uncertain smile and his eyes-- those endless ocean eyes. They looked like rippling waves with the more tears that filled them and spilled over, clearing paths on his dirty cheeks.

"I'm home, honey." Satoru spoke hoarsely, trembling as he gathers you in his arms. Instantly, his face finds its home at your neck, breathing in your scent. "I'm home." His grip tightened.

After hours of snuggling up on the sofa and Satoru freshly showered, you along with him--neither of you could bear to be apart from the other right now. You curled into his embrace, his arms wrapped around you like a safety belt, his long fingers brush the waistband of yours, his, sweatpants. Satoru kissed your jaw.

"Is it okay, pretty? I--," Voice breaking, Satoru swallowed thickly. "I need to know this isn't a dream." Nodding, you shift your hips up, helping him push your sweatpants and underwear down. Satoru does the same, gently swirling his pink head against your folds.

Leaning into his embrace, you grip his arms, making him look at you. "I don't need prep, 'Toru. I wanna feel you too. Want it just like this, please?" Cupping his cheek, he leans into your touch and nods understandingly. Guiding himself into you, the two of you gasp. Your fingers thread together tightly, slowly rocking into each other. Reunited once again. <3

Cloud

It was no secret that Cloud could be quite socially awkward. When he wasn't thinking about his next payment, the free estate of his mind more than often drifted to you. It was rare for him to not have you by his side, but you'd had your own mission to attend to.

Mako-blue eyes drift to his lap, feeling the subtle twitch in his black trousers. He'd been throbbing for days on end now, but rather than dealing with it he willed it to leave on its own. Pleasure always felt better when it was shared with you, after all. But thinking of you only served to make his cock harden more.

Hissing, Cloud shoved his bottoms down far enough for his swollen member to pop up, slapping wetly against his bare stomach; a string of sticky pre connecting his skin to his reddened tip. With a growl, he wrapped his hand tightly around the base of his thick cock and squeezed his eyes shut tight, doing his best to mimic how you felt around him.

He could still feel the phantom touches as you traced your fingers up to his tip and down to his base, moving your hand to cup and fondle at his heavy balls, every touch of yours was like you were worshipping a beautiful lost god.

"Shit--fuck, baby!" Cloud gasps, hips jerking into his fist, cum squirting out of him until his knuckles were dripping in it. He'd really been too pent up... He couldn't wait til you were home. He misses you. :(

Bonus for the sillies<3

Astarion

"Shhhhhh, darling...," Astarion hushes into your mouth, making you snort back at him. The two of you drunkenly giggle, a little more than pleasantly buzzed, and chat with each other out in the hall of the inn in what you two think were whispers. "Can't wake the others. Do you have the key?" He hiccups softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder, making your hunt for the room key that much more difficult.

You grin and pull the key out of your chest bandages, winking. Astarion purred approvingly. Leaning your forehead onto the door, you narrow your eyes and focus on trying to hold it steady, struggling to line the key up with the doorknob. Behind you, Astarion snickers like a schoolboy.

"You don't struggle this much guiding me into you... Has a door bested you, love?" He slurrs, nuzzling at your arm like an affectionate cat. You scowl and playfully and softly place your entire hand on his face and ease him back.

"Ack!" Astarion sputtered, blinking with annoyance as you unlock the door triumphantly. You enter first, the spawn stumbling in behind you. He makes for the bed first, leaving a trail of clothing behind him and crawling atop the sheets. Propping his cheek up with his palm, he relaxes into an attempt to look seductive, which wasn't hard. His thick cock, however, was quickly becoming so. Everything about him was ethereally beautiful, even in your drunken haze.

You squint at him, weighing your options as best you could with your inebriated state. If the two of you started fucking, the chances of either waking up another inn guest or resulting in some sort of drunken injury were quite high.

Ultimately, you decide it's not a good idea, as delicious as Astarion looked. You shed your boots and sit on the edge of the bed. The spawn pouts, reminding you of a cat once again as he paws at your backside.

"Don't you want to, love? We can snuggle instead if that's your desired passion." Astarion wiggled himself under your arms. You smile, brushing back his bangs to kiss his forehead. "We should wait 'til we're both sober, honey." Astarion nuzzled himself against your bosom.

Easing you both back onto the bed, Astarion cuddles into you. The both of you pass out, the spawn entirely naked at your side and you; half-dressed and half-off the bed in a starfish spread, mouth wide open in a snore.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #cloud strife x reader #silent hill x reader #pyramid head x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #cherubfae 2024 #cherubfae's halloween special 2024 #astarion smut #astarion x reader

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heytherecentaurs · 5 months ago

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That was such a cool premiere episode.

Ally was incredible. I had the same visceral reaction as the rest of the table when Russell calls Liv sweetheart and good girl. But also he’s so hot nobody ever calls him on his bullshit. They’ve built a guy that uses weird sucky boomer language but also intervenes when Dave is being a dickhead.

Rekha always brings so much energy to the table. She’s been on D20 a few time now and I always adore her. She’s so funny. She loves a socially awkward character. Usha auto-corrects to Haha every time I write it and my phone’s right. The bit about no tech working was so great. And her being so horned up for the weird Nosferatu man was hilarious.

I wanted Alex back on S20 from episode one of Mentopolis and I’m so grateful they’re back. Love Liv as a teen klepto. It’s so spot on. Alex has a habit of formulating a very simple string of words and making them gut bustingly funny.

Never doubt Izzy. It seems like she was doing a little bit of a Jennifer Coolidge thing but making it sorta midwestern too. Paula is great. A late 50s who apparently has powerful periods and is so so horny. Izzy will always zero in on something whether it’s New Jersey mansion trash or gifted kid mama’s girl and she’ll heighten it to hilarious absurdity.

Dang is 1000% percent what I wanted from Jake. If you had read to me a description of every character I’d know which was his. He’s got such a distinct comedic voice and he’s always such a lovely presence whenever he’s on a dropout show.

Ify’s character work here is perfect. He is locked in. I feel like he’s pulling from a lot of personal experience. He’s sort of both the nerdy anime kid and the muscly beefcake wrapped in one. He’s ideal for this season. Love him getting his guns out.

Brennan really swung for the fences. Feels like he’s building on so much of what Aabria brought to D20. The crazy dome projections, the costume changes, the props, the custom ttrpg. And he’s also bringing all his own DM excellence. His comedy choices are perfect. His character work spot on and the world and lore he’s developing is exquisite. I’m very engrossed already.

I’m so excited to get to know their other characters.

#dimension 20 #d20 #never stop blowing up #nsbu #brennen lee mulligan #izzy roland #alex song xia #ally beardsley #jacob wysocki #rekha shankar #ify nwadiwe #dropout.tv #hey there centaurs

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akamitrani · 19 days ago

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omg i just read your dht fanfic and it was so good!! if your taking requests could i request that reader is married to david and she was with him on the set if terrifier (2024) and reader asks him to make love to her with his Art costume still on? Thanks!’ (sorry if this makes no sense lmao)

— The After-Hours Act —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, established relationship, costume kink, roleplay (?), kissing, pining, choking, rough sex, public sex (well, kind of).

Summary: It's late at night, filming is practically done. Your husband, David, gives his final performance of the day.

[A/N: Omg hi, yes I accept requests! Thank you so much for liking my last fic 🤍 Hope you enjoy this one too, it's my first time doing smut. I absolutely loved the idea and probably had way too much fun with it lol.]

The set was alive with chaos. Flickering lights casting long, jagged shadows against the cracked walls, making the abandoned warehouse look even more sinister. Fake blood is pooled on the concrete floor and the air is thick with the smell of sweat, latex and the metallic tang of stage blood.

In the middle of it all stood David, fully transformed into the unnervingly silent and grotesque Art the Clown. His smile stretched wide under the white mask, black lips curling into a grimace that was equal parts amusing and horrifying.

You watched from the shadows just beyond the set, your eyes never leaving him. David had always been able to command a room and, as Art the Clown, he held a power that drew you in no matter how many times you had seen him in character.

The director yelled “Let's wrap it up!” and the tense energy of the set dissipated like smoke. David instantly broke character, his terrifying expression melting into his usual boyish grin as he exchanged a few words with the crew. His eyes flicked over to you and he gave you a subtle wink.

Your heart skipped a beat as he made his way toward you, still in full costume. The other crew members busied themselves with cleanup, leaving you and David in a pocket of relative privacy.

“Enjoy the show?” – he teased, voice low and familiar despite the eerie costume.

You couldn’t help but smile, mix of nerves and excitement – “You were terrifying, as always. But...” – you replied, eyes lingering on the smeared makeup around his lips – “I have a little request tonight”

David’s brow quirked in curiosity, he stayed silent, slipping back into Art’s mute persona for a moment. You took a deep breath, stepping closer so only he could hear your words...

“Can you stay in costume... For a little playtime, with me?” you whispered getting closer to him, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

For a split second you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glimmer... He understood the idea. He nodded slowly, slipping fully back into character, his smile turning wickedly playful. Stepping back, he walked towards the door of the warehouse, locking it.

You felt a thrill shoot down your spine, you were completely alone with him now – No crew, no distractions. He moved closer to you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. The game had begun.

David – or rather, Art – stopped just inches away, tilting his head in that unnerving, silent way.

“Are you sure about this?” – he whispered, the question hanging in the air like a dare. You could see it in his eyes, he was more than ready to play along. You wanted to see just how far he would take it, how much you could handle... You nodded.

Without warning, he lunges forwards, pining you against a cold concrete wall. A gasp escapes your lips as his gloved hand wrapped around your throat, not tight enough to hurt but enough to send a wave of adrenaline through your body.

The pressure of his hand on your throat sends waves of heat between your legs, your breath coming out in short gasps. He leaned in closer, his painted lips brushing your ear, he remained silent, true to Art's unsettling nature.

You whimpered softly, feeling the undeniable desire. David's grin widened and he pushed you harder against the wall, his free hand slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his growing bulge against your thigh, his gloves rough against your skin. His eyes bored into yours demanding submission.

You gave in willingly, letting him take control over you. The grip on your throat tightened just slightly, enough to make you even more wet.

“David...” – You breathed his name. A futile attempt to break the spell of Art's menacing silence.

But he wasn't ready to break character yet. Instead, he released his hold on your throat and captured your lips in a messy kiss, taste of makeup and sweat mixing between you two.

He pulled back, just enough to look at you. For a moment you thought he might speak, but instead he let out that eerie silent laugh, his shoulders shaking as he looked at you with a mocking expression.

“You really are good at this...” – You said, voice husky with arousal and fear.

He flashed that terrifying grin again and in a heartbeat lifted you up in his arms. You look at him with a surprised look as he carries you to the prop bed in the set and carefully throws you in it. He hovers on top of you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. This time you completely feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, making you moan – “Hmm yes...”

David's hands start to wander around your body, you're completely under him, completely at his mercy. His fingers slid under your dress pushing it up, revealing your black lacy set of lingerie. He pulled back and paused for a moment, he had an idea, suddenly getting out of bed – you look at him confused.

"David? What happened?" – You asked, afraid you did something wrong. He doesn't speak, instead he silently laughs gesturing for you to wait with an excited expression.

You watch him happily reach for Art's infamous black trash bag that was in a corner, open it dramatically and start looking for something inside of it. You were about to say something, but before you could do that he threw the bag away, in his hand is a black knife with fake blood still on it. He smiles devilishly pointing to the knife... then you. You freeze, feeling genuine horror with his actions now.

David senses your growing tension and gestures with both hands as what can be understood as 'relax, I'm not going to hurt you... probably'. What an imp. He starts crawling on top of the bed towards you with a hungry look, reaching your legs. He signals for you to open them and you gladly do so, without asking questions. He pauses for a moment as if savoring the situation, the position you're in – He gives you his trademark creepy smirk.

He reaches for your panties, his finger lifted one of the side edges and in a swift motion he uses the knife to slash it, removing it and revealing your throbbing cunt – now on full display for him. You inhale sharply, the cold air making you shiver. He throws away the knife and your undies somewhere around the set.

He pulls you towards him roughly, demanding, pushing your legs more far apart. You notice his bulge is very prominent now, poking through his clown costume. David hovers above you, one hand beside your head and the other ghostly stroking your sensitive bud making you moan. You don't want to wait, can't handle teasing now – you shift slightly as a form of protest.

“Fuck me now” – You breathlessly groan

He stopped in his tracks and looked you dead in the face, up until now he has been real soft with you, taking things slowly... But if you're such a needy bitch with no patience then he will give you exactly what you want.

David pulls back slightly and gathers your legs in front of him, pushing you to the side forcing you to change positions. Your back now is exposed to him, your ass completely tilted up, he uses his knee to once more spread your legs. You tried to look back at him but he shoved your head down in the bed and unspokenly demanded you to stay this way. Not wanting to defy him again you accept his command.

You stayed like this for a few seconds wondering why nothing has happened, you couldn't help but listen to your surroundings, especially behind you – focusing on any sound, any clue to what will happen. Unbeknownst to you, your husband – Art, at the moment – was dazed at the sight before him. Pussy swollen with desire and wetness threatening to drip down your groin, enough to make his dick beg to be released.

A sudden sharp noise of tearing cloth invaded your ears, making you jump a little bit. You were scared to look back but your curiosity was louder at the moment and you couldn't help but slightly glance to the source of the sound. David had torn his clown suit to free his dick, now holding his fully erect member in his hand leaking in precum, pumping it a few times.

He caught you looking and in a futile attempt you tried to avert your gaze, too late now. He smiled wickedly and as punishment, he gave you an unexpected ruthless slap to your butt, making you hiss in both shock and pleasure. The stinging sensation only adding to your burning heat. He continued – two, three, four, five slaps – smacking until you were moaning for the pain, for him.

“Mmm-aah fuck” – you moaned – “fuck me, just fuc-”

Your phrase cut short when he entered your pussy, shoving his dick deep inside you then completely out in a excruciatingly slow speed. He was taunting you, giving you what you wanted but not in the way intended to.

“Mmmm Dave, please ah- please...” – You cried out. You could feel the clown smirking behind you.

David started picking up speed, pounding hard, grabbing your waist for stability. There will definitely be some purple digits engraved there tomorrow.

You can hear his ragged breath and occasional whimpers, you're surprised he could maintain Art's silent persona this far. David is usually quite vocal, he enjoys praising you during sex. The difference is noticeable, you're still unsure about it... On the other hand, his much more dominant demeanor when portraying Art makes up for it.

He takes his dick out and flips you on your back to face him again, he takes your legs and puts them on his shoulder. He promptly aligned his shaft with your entrance again, staring directly at you. David's half-lidded blue eyes peaking through the white mask, black lips slightly open indicating breathlessness. Pounding you, he pushed your bra out of the way, he loved the erotic sight of your tits bouncing just for him.

His cock deliciously hit your sweet spot with expertise – he just knows how to make you feel good – feeling the climax build up more and more on your stomach on each thrust he gives, you're almost there.

He leans in closer to you, one of his hands grabs your throat while the other stays at your waist, pining you completely onto the bed. He's choking you mercilessly, cutting your oxygen this time.

David picks up his speed really fast, making the prop bed creak loudly, the sound of rough slapping skin filling the set – Your orgasm threatening to crash down. The stimulation is overwhelming and you can't hold it anymore.

His dick hits hard and deep in your pussy – you deliciously cum, your juices spilling all over his shaft. He nods maniacally feeling your tightening warm cunt around his cock, it was all that he needed to reach his peak – closing his eyes and throwing his head back, he ejaculates inside you with one final thrust. He releases the hold on your neck allowing you to gasp for air.

You see his face contorting and you think he might break character now. Instead he opened his eyes and smiled at you while clapping his hands cheerfully. The way he stayed silent, embodying Art’s menacing playfulness, drove you to the edge.

He removes himself from you, sweating, panting. You suddenly feel the exhaustion and so does he – literally plopping himself on the bed, by your side.

“I love you so much, you know that?” – he finally spoke after some minutes, the real David finally breaking through.

It was such a relief to hear his voice again – “I love you too... Even when you're being a complete psycho” – you teased, still breathless.

David laughed, genuinely – “I hope I wasn't too rough” – he said, pressing his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist in a comforting embrace.

“Maybe a little” – you admitted, resting your hands against his chest – “But I like it when you surprise me”

David smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your head, filled with all the tenderness you knew him for. It was just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment.

“Thank you” – he murmured – “For loving all sides of me... Even the creepy ones”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his chest – “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

You knew this was a moment you’d cherish – a memory of the man you loved, both the sweet husband and domineering clown... And tonight, you have experienced both.

“Alright, alright. I think we've given Art enough playtime for one night.” - he murmured, gently caressing your back. He kissed you one last time before preparing to get out of bed.

“I think I'll have to buy another clown costume” – he joked, pointing at his groin area, where he had ripped the fabric.

“And new panties for me, ruined my favorite one” – you added with a fake pout pointing at the long gone undies, currently at the floor. (rip undies)

“Yeah, sorry about that... I- I don't know what I was doing honestly” – he said looking down

“No, no. None of that. I loved everything. All of it.” – You quickly replied, forcing him to look at you. You could swear you saw a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“C'mon, let's get out of here” – He said sweetly, slipping his hand into yours – “We've had enough fun for one night”

Some minutes later as you both walked out of the darkened set hand in hand, you realized what you had just experienced was a moment you'd never forget. Fear, love and desire collided in the most thrilling way.

#david howard thornton #art the clown #david howard thornton x reader #art the clown x reader #david howard thornton imagine #terrifier 3 #terrifier 2 #terrifier #david howard thornton smut #art the clown smut #thank you to my man #on my knees for him

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greengoblinswifey · 1 month ago

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I know these men aren’t friends but I just wanna be in the middle of pope and rafe 🙂‍↕️

Rafe Cameron x Pope Heyward x Kook!Reader

summary— you host your annual pre halloween party and things gets steamy with two unexpected men.

warnings— explicit content. threesome, grinding, oral, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, possessive rafe as usual, bit of sub rafe and pope, slightly dom!reader, male masturbation.

a/n— i had to write a long ass fic based off this ask, enjoy <33

The party was already in full swing by the time you opened the door for Pope and the rest of the Pogues. Your annual Halloween party had always been a hit, and this year was no different. The lights were dim, casting an orange and purple glow over your crowded mansion as music pumped through the speakers. The smell of beer was mixed with Halloween candles you bought and the cool night air that rushed in every time the door opened. Kooks and Pogues were scattered around playing beer pong, dancing, or chatting in little groups, the energy of the night electric. It was the only night of the year everyone got a long- thanks to you.

You had dressed as a playboy bunny this year, black corset, bunny ears perched on your head, and fishnet stockings that had definitely caught Pope’s eye the moment he walked in. His gaze lingered on you as he made his way over, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Damn, you look really sexy tonight,” he said, eyes scanning your body before meeting yours again. You giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, and placed a hand on his chest.

You were tipsy, maybe a little more than tipsy after greeting people at the door for the last hour with a drink always in hand. Pope wasn’t exactly sober either; he and the rest of the pogues had been pregaming before they arrived. His breath was warm as he leaned in closer, the smell of alcohol mixing with his cologne, and you couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded as his hand settled on your waist.

“Thanks, Pope,” you teased, batting your lashes. “Guess I pulled off the whole sexy playboy bunny look, huh?”

Pope grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “More than pulled it off,” he said, leaning closer. His lips grazed the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You let him kiss you there for a moment before you gently pulled away, biting your lip as you looked up at him with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Oh, you like how I look, huh? Your little playboy bunny?” you teased, dragging a finger down his chest slowly, feeling the muscles tense beneath his shirt.

Pope chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening as he looked at you with hooded eyes. “You know I do,” he said, voice low, full of that teasing edge you’d come to expect from him.

Around you, the party raged on, music pounding, people laughing and drinking, but it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. His hand drifted to the small of your back, pulling you closer as you both swayed slightly, caught in the rhythm of the music and the buzz of the alcohol. You were tempted to give in to his touch, to let him kiss you right there in front of everyone, but you held back, keeping him on edge just a little longer.

That playful push and pull between you two was all part of the game, and tonight was no different.

You had almost forgotten that Rafe never missed your parties. The two of you had been hooking up for months now, always finding yourselves in situations that blurred the lines between friends and something more. He’d known about your costume for weeks, knew exactly what kind of reaction it would get, and, true to form, he’d shown up dressed as Hugh Hefner, a smug smirk on his face as he walked through the door.

You didn’t notice him at first, too wrapped up in Pope, whose lips were still trailing along your neck, and whose hands had drifted lower, resting just above your hips. You were tipsy, feeling light and playful, leaning into Pope as his lips brushed against your skin. The party pulsed around you, the music loud and the room packed, but it felt like you and Pope were in your own little bubble-until that bubble was abruptly popped.

Rafe stormed over before you even realized he’d spotted the two of you. His presence was impossible to miss, broad shoulders, confident swagger, and a dark look in his eyes as he cut through the crowd, laser-focused on you and Pope. The moment his voice cut through the air, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, his eyes flicking between you and Pope, anger simmering beneath the surface. He stopped right in front of the two of you, jaw clenched. “Why the fuck is this pogue all over you? And why the hell is he even here?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, though you knew better than to push Rafe when he was like this. Still, the alcohol had loosened you up, and you found yourself smirking at him, tipping your head to the side. “Rafe, calm down. You and I aren’t together, remember?” You smiled sweetly, leaning back into Pope just a little more, feeling Rafe’s glare intensify. “I can do whatever I want.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing over Rafe’s costume, silk robe, cigarette holder tucked into his breast pocket. “You look good, though,” you teased, trying to lighten the tension. “My very own Hugh Hefner.” You leaned in, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “And I’m your Holly Madison, or whoever you want me to be.”

He was pissed but the compliment seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. Still, his eyes remained dark as he glanced at Pope, clearly annoyed by his presence. “You’re out of your mind,” Rafe muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as if he couldn’t stay mad at you.

“If you want,” you teased again, “you can join in.” You giggled, the alcohol buzzing in your veins as you gave him a playful wink. Pope, oblivious to the history between you and Rafe, was still holding you close, his body pressed against yours.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he sighed, stepping closer. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered under his breath, though you could hear the slight amusement in his voice now. He moved behind you, his hands settling on your waist as he pressed his body against yours. The heat of him was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but let out a little breath as he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck.

You were sandwiched between the two of them now, Rafe grinding into you from behind, his hands firm on your hips, while Pope was in front of you, his hands pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your collarbone. It was like being in the center of a storm, the music pulsing through your body as you swayed with them, your head spinning from the drinks and the intensity of the moment.

Rafe’s lips moved up your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while Pope’s hands gripped your waist tighter, the two of them moving with you in sync to the beat of the music. It was chaotic and thrilling, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling powerful between them.

Things were quickly heating up between you, Rafe, and Pope. The energy had shifted, and it was like you could feel both of them trying to outdo the other, their touches growing more insistent, their lips and hands everywhere at once. Pope’s hands were gripping your waist from the front, his fingers sliding up your sides, while Rafe’s mouth never left your neck, his strong hands pressing against your hips as he pushed into you from behind.

They were locked in silent competition, each one focused on making you shudder, on drawing out those soft little gasps they knew you couldn’t hold back. Pope’s lips brushed against your jawline, while Rafe’s breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers through your entire body. You were surrounded by them, caught in this magnetic pull between the two.

The party raged on around you, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, all that existed were their hands on you, their mouths teasing your skin, and the way your body responded to each of them. You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kiara and Cleo passing by, their eyes widening in shock and amusement at the sight of the three of you. They giggled, whispering to each other as they stole glances, clearly not expecting to see this. But you didn’t care, you were too wrapped up in the moment. If anything, their reaction made it even more thrilling.

You had an idea, one that made your pulse quicken even more. With a sly smile, you reached out and grabbed both of their hands, Pope’s in your left, Rafe’s in your right, and tugged them gently, leading them toward the staircase. Their eyes flickered with curiosity, though both men were clearly annoyed with each other. You could feel the tension between them, but they followed you anyway, unable to resist.

Without saying a word, you led them upstairs, weaving through the crowd of partygoers until you reached your room. Your mansion was sprawling, and your room was at the far end of the hall, far away from the chaos of the party downstairs. As you reached the door, you glanced back at them with a teasing smile. They were still glaring at each other, but the desire to be near you overpowered their irritation.

You opened the door to your room and stepped inside, feeling the weight of both of their eyes on you as you moved. The tension between the three of you was electric, and you knew that whatever was about to happen would only fuel the competitive fire burning between them.

Rafe and Pope followed you into the room, the door clicking shut behind them. Despite their annoyance with each other, they were both here for you, and that thought made you grin. You had both of them right where you wanted them.

The real fun was just about to begin.

You gave them both a little shove and they stood for a second, tension still thick between them, before you pushed them onto the bed. They sat side by side, eyes glued to you as you slowly walked toward them, the sultry music from your speaker you turned on that played music from downstairs, filling the room.

Rafe’s eyes roamed over your body, his jaw tight as he took you in. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice husky with desire. “You’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful. All mine.”

His possessiveness sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, Pope’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t about to let Rafe take control of the moment. “She’s not just yours,” Pope shot back, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You’re stunning, you know that? Absolutely stunning.”

The tension between them sizzled in the air, but your giggle broke through it. You stood between them now, enjoying the attention, enjoying how desperate they both seemed to be for you. With one hand, you reached out and touched Pope’s cheek, your thumb brushing against his jawline as you gave him a teasing smile.

Then, without warning, you turned to Rafe, straddling him on the bed, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His hands immediately gripped your waist, pulling you down hard against his lap. “All mine,” he whispered again, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

You could feel his bulge pressing into you, hard and ready beneath your thighs. You kissed him back deeply, but with your free hand, you reached out to Pope, your fingers brushing over his bulge. He groaned softly at your touch, and the tension in the room shifted, their competitiveness forgotten for the moment as they focused on you.

Grinding on Rafe’s lap, you felt his hands move to grip your hips, guiding you as you moved against him. But your attention wasn’t just on him, you continued to tease Pope, rubbing him through his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your palm as his breathing grew heavier. Both of them were completely under your control now.

Pope’s jaw clenched again, but this time it wasn’t from frustration, it was from the pleasure you were giving him. His hand reached out to touch you, his fingers brushing against your skin, desperate for more. You could feel the heat rising in the room, the music and the dim lights only adding to the tension.

You pulled back from Rafe just enough to look at both of them. The sight of them, both completely focused on you, their eyes dark with desire, sent a shiver down your spine. You were the one in control here, and they were more than willing to follow your lead.

You stood before them, feeling their eyes devour every inch of your body. “Don’t I look sexy?” you asked with a teasing smirk, running your hands slowly down your sides. Rafe and Pope, sitting on the edge of the bed, nodded frantically, their eyes wide with hunger.

“Yes, you do,” they both agreed in unison, barely able to get the words out.

You bit your lip seductively, letting your fingers play with the edge of your corset. “Then I’m not even sure if I want to take this off,” you teased, watching as their desperation grew. Rafe groaned, leaning forward slightly, his hands twitching.

“Please, take it off,” he begged, his voice rough with need.

“Yeah,” Pope added, his tone almost as eager. “Take it off.”

You stepped closer, swaying your hips, urging them both with a slow, sultry glance. “Well then, why don’t you two help me out of it?” you said, biting your lip again.

They didn’t need to be told twice. Both of them stood quickly, their hands eager and trembling as they started to unlace the corset. Rafe was more familiar with the routine, his fingers swift as he helped you slip out of it. Pope, though less experienced, moved carefully, his touch hesitant but excited. The moment your corset dropped to the floor, you stood before them in nothing but your bunny ears, stockings, and heels.

Rafe, even though he’d seen you naked so many times before, still inhaled sharply as he took in the sight of you, his arousal evident in the way his body responded. Pope, on the other hand, was absolutely floored. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the sexy kook he’d always known, now standing completely bare in front of him.

Your fingers trailed over your body, feeling their eyes follow your every movement. You helped Rafe out of his Hugh Hefner costume, the velvet robe slipping to the floor. Then you turned to Pope, guiding him out of his clothes as well. When they were both fully undressed, you stepped back to admire them, both big and thick, standing there, hard for you.

Your breath hitched at the sight of them, a wave of heat coursing through you. You hadn’t quite anticipated how much seeing them both, naked and ready, would make your pulse race.

How the fuck would you take both of them?

You moved closer to Rafe first, your lips brushing against his as you kissed him deeply, your hand trailing down his chest, then lower. His hands gripped your hips again, his body eager to press against yours. But as much as you wanted him, you weren’t going to let Pope wait any longer.

You turned to Pope, running your fingers along his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss that was equally as deep. He responded instantly, his hands sliding down your sides, his touch sending sparks through you. You could feel the tension between them, the competitiveness that hadn’t gone away, but right now, they were both focused on you.

Their hard cocks were pressing up against you, the heat between the three of you radiating through the room. You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you turned your attention to Pope, pushing him back onto the bed with a firm shove. He landed on his back, his breath hitching as you climbed between his legs, arching your back and raising your ass high in the air.

Rafe stood behind you, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight. He was itching to pull you away from Pope, to remind him who had you first, but for now, he held back, letting you have your fun. The tension between them was fierce, and you knew that after tonight, Rafe would likely find a way to make Pope pay for touching you. But right now, you were in control.

With your ass still raised, you wrapped your hand around Pope's thick cock, stroking it slowly while he groaned beneath you. His head fell back against the pillow, his hips jerking up slightly as you teased him with your touch. Rafe watched, his breath ragged, his fingers flexing as he fought the urge to intervene.

You smirked over your shoulder at Rafe, your voice dripping with seduction. “Well, don't just stand there.”

That was all it took. Rafe dropped to his knees behind you, gripping your hips firmly as he pulled you closer and ripped your stocking to have an opening to your pussy, then his mouth dived between your thighs. The sensation was electric, his tongue working you over with a fervor that made your entire body shudder. You moaned around Pope’s cock as you took him into your mouth, the vibrations of your moans making his hips buck up into you even more.

Rafe wasn’t letting up, his hands gripping your ass as he devoured you, his own cock hard and throbbing as he stroked himself, eager for more. The pleasure hit you in waves, and you couldn’t help but grind back against Rafe’s face as you moaned around Pope’s length, the taste of him filling your mouth.

Pope’s hands tangled in your hair, his breaths coming faster as you worked him with your lips and tongue. His moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up as he lost control. “Fuck, I'm gonna-,”Pope groaned, his voice strained, and before long, he was spilling into your mouth, his body tensing beneath you.

The moment Pope came, your own orgasm crashed over you, your moans muffled as you swallowed Pope’s release. Your body trembled as you came on Rafe’s mouth, his grip tightening on your hips as he lapped up every drop of your arousal, making sure to get every last bit. Both of you swallowed, savoring the moment as the three of you caught your breath.

With your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened, you turned your attention to Rafe. Before he could fully catch his breath, you pushed him onto the bed, positioning his hard cock right at your entrance. Slowly, you sank down onto him, both of you moaning as he filled you completely. Your eyes locked with Pope’s, who was now sitting up, his gaze fixated on where you and Rafe were connected.

Rafe’s hands roamed your body, his lips latching onto your breasts as he groaned into your skin. You couldn’t help but throw your head back in pleasure as you rode him, feeling him stretch you out perfectly. Pope’s eyes trailed down to your pussy, watching every movement, his hand gripping his cock as it hardened again.

“You like watching me get fucked, don't you?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you maintained eye contact with Pope. He nodded frantically, unable to take his eyes off you. “Yes,” he moaned, his hand stroking his length in sync with your movements on top of Rafe.

Your smirk grew as you leaned forward slightly, riding Rafe harder, causing both of you to moan louder. “Do you want to feel this tight pussy wrap around your dick?” you asked, breathless as the pleasure surged through you.

Pope’s breathing became ragged as he bit his lip, nodding desperately. “Yes, I need it,” he groaned again, his eyes practically begging you.

“Keep playing with yourself for me, but don’t cum,” you instructed, your voice firm despite the heat coursing through your body. "If you cum now, you don’t get to fuck me."

Pope nodded, his hand working his cock even faster as he tried to hold back. You shifted your attention back to Rafe, who was thrusting up into you with increasing urgency, his face flushed and his breaths ragged.

“You feel so good baby,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him, your lips barely brushing against his. “So tight and wet,” he moaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fought to keep control. “I- I can’t hold on much longer.”

Hearing that, you smirked and suddenly lifted yourself off him right as you came, leaving Rafe teetering on the edge. He let out a guttural moan as he spilled over, his cum splattering across your chest, coating your perky tits in the warm release.

You bit your lip, looking down at the mess you made of him, feeling the power shift entirely in your favor.

You were still catching your breath from Rafe’s release when you noticed Pope watching you with raw hunger in his eyes, his need obvious and desperate. You could tell he was barely holding on, trembling from restraint. You leaned back on the bed, spreading your legs for him, “Come on, Pope, fuck me.”

Pope’s gaze flickered briefly to Rafe, unsure if he should knowing the dangerous and possessive man who could make his life a living hell. But Rafe, reclining with a possessive smirk, growled, “Go ahead. Fuck her. It’s the last time you’ll ever get to do that.”

That was all the encouragement Pope needed. In an instant, he was on you, dragging his cock along your slick folds before thrusting inside, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He gripped your thighs, moaning as he sank deep, moving in rhythm with your every gasp. You felt every inch of him stretching you, filling you completely, and your moans blended with his.

But just when it felt too good to handle, you stopped him, breathless. “Rafe, come fill me up, too.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a wicked smile, watching Pope reluctantly pull out before positioning himself beneath you. You laid back on Rafe’s chest, feeling his cock nudging against your ass. He didn’t waste time, slowly slipping inside, the stretch almost unbearable as he filled you in a way only he could. You arched your back, crying out as he pushed further, groaning in pleasure.

Pope, desperate for more, lined himself up again and plunged back into your pussy. The feeling of being stretched by both of them at once sent shockwaves through your entire body. You nearly sobbed from how full you felt, the sensations overwhelming as their cocks moved in perfect sync, rocking your body with each thrust.

Rafe slowed his movements, easing his cock deeper into your ass while Pope sped up, his hands gripping your hips tight. “You like how her pussy feels, huh?” Rafe teased, glancing at Pope.

Pope, lost in the sensation, could only nod, barely able to form words. Rafe chuckled darkly, thrusting harder. “Well, treasure it, because it’s the last time you’re ever going to be inside my pussy.”

Your hand reached up, covering Rafe’s mouth as you turned to Pope, your voice dripping with lust. “God, you’re so big, you’re fucking me so good. Go faster, I’m gonna cum on that dick.”

Pope’s pace became relentless, and Rafe matched his rhythm, both of them pushing you to the edge. The pressure was almost too much, your body trembling violently, feeling like you might pass out from the intensity. And then it hit, waves of ecstasy crashed over you as you screamed, squirting all over both of them, your body shaking uncontrollably.

Pope couldn’t hold back any longer, pulling out just in time to cum all over your stomach. Rafe followed shortly after, spilling deep inside you, filling your ass as his own moans filled the room. All three of you were panting and completely overwhelmed by what had just happened.

You collapsed on the bed between them, completely fucked out, your body humming with satisfaction. “You both did so good,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. Rafe kissed your neck, whispering, “You took our cocks so well.”

Pope smirked, his breathing still heavy, and you smiled back at him, the tension in the air slowly fading. “The night is still young,” you teased, your voice light but exhausted.

They cleaned you up, tenderly helping you back into your corset and fixing your bunny ears. After cleaning themselves and slipping back into their clothes, the three of you headed back downstairs, with you leading the way and holding on to their hands as they trailed behind. The moment you stepped back into the party, all eyes were on you, the crowd erupting into cheers and knowing glances.

You smiled knowingly, basking in the attention, enjoying every bit of it as the night continued on and you were once again in the middle of the two men.

485 notes · View notes

lupinqs · 29 days ago

Text

GHOSTFACE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: after a kill, paige decides she needs to fuck you senseless.

☆ ━ word count: 8.3K

☆ ━ warnings: sexual content (absolute pure filth, dom!paige, kinda bratty!reader, choking, blood kink, knifeplay, oral, fingering), oh yeah also murder

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my halloween treat for you 🍬😜 on a serious note tho this is actually the freakiest nastiest shit i’ve ever written idk wtf i was on

THE CAR idles in the dark, the soft hum of the engine barely cutting through the late-night quiet of Storrs. You sit in the driver’s seat, the burner phone in your lap, your fingers drumming against the wheel as you steal a glance at the clock. It’s past midnight, the world outside wrapped in a blanket of stillness, but your heart is anything but calm. The recent killings on campus have the entire student body on edge, but no one would ever guess that the two of you—the school’s sweetheart basketball star and her quiet, unsuspecting girlfriend—are the ones behind it all.

Tonight, though, has a different kind of energy. It’s not just about the kill. It’s about what came before. Paige is sitting next to you in the passenger seat, her Ghostface costume on, the long black cloak pooling around her legs. Her game-day braids are still tied back into a ponytail, her skin still glowing with the leftover adrenaline from the UConn game earlier tonight. She’d killed it on the court—led the team to another win, the crowd chanting her name as she drained shot after shot.

Now, she’s about to kill in a very different way.

You feel a surge of excitement just thinking about it—about how she can seamlessly transition from the basketball star everyone worships to this… to your partner in something darker, something the two of you have created and mastered together. You’ve always been the one with the words, the voice on the phone that lures them in, taunting them, teasing them, until Paige steps in and finishes the job. She’s the executioner, but you set the stage.

“Still riding that high, huh?” you tease, your voice soft but playful as you glance over at her. You can see it in the way her leg bounces slightly, the leftover buzz of the game still coursing through her.

Paige turns to you, a smirk playing on her lips. “Can’t help it. We crushed ‘em tonight.” She adjusts the mask in her lap, her eyes flickering with excitement that’s just as much about what’s to come as it is about the win she’s still basking in. “You saw that last block, right? Perfect.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, it was good.”

She grins, her confidence practically radiating off her. It’s the same look she wears after every game—this electric mix of pride and hunger for more. But tonight, there’s a sharper edge to it, a different kind of hunger simmering beneath the surface. One that only you know about.

Paige leans over suddenly, her hand grabbing your jaw, pulling you into her, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s rough, heated. You kiss her back, matching her intensity, the burner phone nearly slipping from your lap as your hand grips the back of her neck. The adrenaline from the night, from her win, from the secret you both share—it all mixes into a heady, intoxicating rush.

She pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, her voice low and teasing. “Wish me luck, baby.”

Her smirk is wicked as she slips the Ghostface mask over her head, the familiar face now staring back at you. It’s eerie, unnerving—everything it’s supposed to be—but you know who’s behind it. Paige.

The sound of the car door opening is the only thing that breaks the silence as Paige steps out, her black cloak trailing behind her as she disappears into the night.

You wait a few moments, scrolling through your phone before deciding to get out. The door slams shut behind you with a sharp, metallic thud that echoes through the quiet night. The cold Connecticut wind bites at your face as you step away from the car, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. It’s freezing tonight, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones and lingers, but the thrill, the adrenaline of what’s about to happen, keeps you warm enough.

You shove your hands into your pockets, walking slowly toward the edge of the building. The apartment complex looms ahead, its brick exterior cold and silent, with only a few lights flickering from various windows. Your breath fogs up in the night air as you circle around, your shoes scraping against the asphalt, the distant sounds of traffic muffled by the wind.

You reach the back of the building, your body finding refuge against the brick wall. The rough texture scratches through your jacket as you lean against it, glancing around to make sure no one’s nearby. You’re careful, always careful. This isn’t your first time doing this, after all.

Paige is inside, probably already climbing the stairs, making her way to the bartender’s apartment. You can imagine her slipping through the shadows, as quiet and deadly as she is on the court, that same fierce determination in her eyes.

You pull a cigarette from your pocket, slipping it between your lips before lighting it, the flame briefly illuminating your face before you inhale deeply. The smoke curls in the cold air, the familiar burn in your lungs settling you, grounding you. This part of the night is always the same—the waiting. But it’s also the part you’ve come to appreciate. The anticipation, the patience it takes. You wait for Paige’s text, the one that’ll let you know she’s in position, ready for you to make the call.

The call that’ll lure tonight’s target straight into her arms.

The bartender. You think back to that night, just a few days ago, when you and Paige were out with her team. It was supposed to be a fun night, just you, Paige, and the rest of the girls, celebrating another win. Paige had been in her usual form—confident, charismatic, drawing everyone’s attention like she always does. But then she came into the picture. The fucking bartender.

The girl had been pouring drinks all night, flirting shamelessly with Paige, making little comments, smiling at her in a way that made your blood boil. Paige had stayed cool, giving her those polite but dismissive smiles, her arm draped around your waist as if to make it clear. But the bartender either didn’t care or didn’t notice, and it had pissed you off. You could tell Paige had noticed too, the way she tightened her grip on you, the way her eyes flicked to yours whenever the girl leaned in too close.

And, later that night, after a few drinks, the two of you had ended up in the bathroom, making out against the sink. Paige had been rougher than usual, her hands gripping your hips, her lips almost bruising yours, and in the heat of it, she’d pulled back, breathless, and whispered, “You wanna kill her?”

You hadn’t hesitated. Of course you wanted to kill her.

So, tonight, here you are. The plan is simple—Paige gets in, finds her, and you make the call. Then, Paige does what she does best. Only tonight, there’s something different. Paige had promised that you’d get the final stab. The last touch, the one that seals the deal, making it yours too.

You take another drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly, your eyes scanning the street. Everything is still, nothing but the occasional flicker of movement behind closed windows. The night is quiet, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for what’s about to unfold.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a thrill shoot up your spine. You pull it out and glance at the screen.

It’s Paige.

One word: Ready.

Your heart skips a beat, the cigarette forgotten as you flick it away, crushing it under your heel. Showtime. You slide the phone back into your hand, dialing the bartender’s number. It rings once, twice, before the click of the line picking up fills your ear. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint sound of background noise—some low music, maybe the TV—and then her voice comes through, light and unexpectedly cheery for how late it is.

“Hello?” The bartender’s tone is casual, friendly, like she’s used to people calling her at odd hours. It’s clear she’s not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

You suppress a grin, knowing exactly where this is headed. You always start the same way—light, teasing, pretending to be someone she might actually want to talk to. And as always, you speak through the voice changer, your voice distorted into something deeper, something unrecognizable.

“Hey,” you say, the voice changer making you sound almost playful. “You still up?”

There’s a pause on the other end, like she’s trying to place your voice. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Who’s this?”

You lean back against the wall, settling into your role. “Just someone who noticed you the other night. Thought I’d give you a call. You just started bartending, right? At Ted’s?”

Another pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in her head. “Oh,” she says after a moment, her tone picking up with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you get my number?”

You chuckle, low and smooth, keeping your tone flirtatious. “Got my ways.”

She laughs softly, clearly entertained. “Well, I guess you’re resourceful, huh? What’s your name?”

You sidestep the question, keeping her engaged, knowing that she’ll follow along if you give her just enough. “What’s yours?” you ask instead, turning it around on her.

She laughs again, a little softer this time, and you can picture her sitting up, maybe twirling her hair or playing with her phone. “Kelsey,” she offers.

“Kelsey,” you repeat, letting her name roll off your tongue, the voice changer making it sound almost sinister, but not enough for her to notice—yet. “Pretty name. You’re pretty good at pouring drinks too.”

She snorts. “Well, thanks. I do my best. You one of my regulars or something?”

You let the silence hang for a beat, then reply, “You could say that. I saw you with your hands all over that blonde girl the other night. What was her name? Paige?”

There’s a shift in her tone now, a slight hesitation. “Oh… yeah, I remember her,” she says, her voice a bit more careful, like she’s suddenly unsure of where this conversation is going. “You friends with her or something?”

You can feel her starting to get a little uneasy, and it makes you smile, the thrill of it building in your chest. You lean forward slightly, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Something like that,” you say, your voice low now, more serious. “You were really bold, flirting with her like that, Kelsey. I gotta say, I don’t think she appreciated it. And I definitely didn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence. A longer one this time. And when she speaks again, there’s a trace of nervous laughter in her voice. “Okay, uh… who the hell is this?”

You can hear her trying to play it off, but there’s a flicker of panic underneath. She’s starting to realize this isn’t a joke. This isn’t some casual late-night flirtation.

“You don’t remember me?” you ask, sounding almost innocent. “I was there that whole night.”

Her breath catches, and then she laughs again, this time more forced, trying to regain control. “Alright, this is getting weird,” she says. “I’m gonna hang up now—”

“Don’t.” Your voice cuts through sharply, commanding, and you hear the soft gasp she makes on the other end. “Don’t you fucking dare hang up.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of her breathing, shaky now, uneven. You can almost see her, sitting in her apartment, probably looking around, trying to figure out if this is a prank, if someone’s watching her. You know the thoughts running through her head. You’ve seen it all before.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but—”

“I want you to stay on the phone,” you interrupt, your voice laced with cold amusement. “You’ve been real fun to talk to so far, Kelsey. Don’t ruin it now.”

You hear her exhale sharply, the panic setting in for real now. “This isn’t funny, okay? Just—just leave me alone, or I’m calling the cops.”

“Go ahead,” you say casually, starting to grin. “Call them. Tell them someone’s watching you.”

Her breath hitches again, and you can hear the unmistakable tremor in her voice. “Watching me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your smile widens. “Sweetheart,” you say softly, almost kindly, “I can see you.”

A small, broken gasp escapes her, and you hear her scramble, probably getting off the couch, rushing to lock her door or check her windows. The desperation in her voice is thick now. “Where are you? Where the fuck are you?”

You pause for just a second, letting the tension build, before finally answering, “Right behind you.”

There’s a crash on the other end of the line, followed immediately by a scream that’s cut short. You hear the sound of a body hitting the floor, the unmistakable sound of the phone dropping, and then—

The pleading starts.

“Please, no—no—” Kelsey’s voice is choked, panicked, and you can hear her gasping for air, her words coming out in sobs now. You can picture it perfectly—Paige towering over her, the blade glinting in the dim light of the apartment. The sound of a struggle follows, Kelsey’s voice growing more desperate, more terrified. “Please! I—”

And then the first stab.

It’s a wet, sickening sound, the blade sinking into flesh. Kelsey’s scream is sharp, but it quickly turns into a gargle as blood fills her throat. You hear her choking, trying to speak, to beg. There’s more stabbing, more squelching, before it stops, and all you can hear are weak, broken sobs.

For a few more seconds, there’s nothing but shuffling, the sound of Paige moving around, and then—quiet.

You wait, holding your breath, the anticipation still thrumming through you, until finally, you hear her voice. Paige’s voice, smooth, confident, and a little out of breath.

“Baby,” she says, and you can practically hear her smile through the phone, “you can come on up here now. She’s ready for you.”

You hang up before beginning to walk, keeping your pace quick as you stride into the apartment building. You’re trying to be fast—you don’t want her to fucking bleed out and die before you can finish her off.

The elevator ride up to her floor feels agonizingly slow, your foot tapping impatiently against the metal floor. When you finally reach her door, you stop for a second, taking a breath, checking the number to make sure it’s the right one. Your fist raises, knocking once—sharp and deliberate.

The door swings open almost immediately, and there she is—Paige, standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the dim apartment lights. She’s still wearing the Ghostface costume, though the mask dangles casually from her hand now. Her braids, still in that game-day ponytail, are a little mussed, strands sticking out here and there, but it only adds to the chaotic allure of her right now. There’s blood splattered across her face, stark against her skin, and across her clothes too. She hasn’t even bothered to clean it up yet, and God, you can’t help but think she looks so fucking hot.

Her eyes are gleaming, and there’s that familiar smirk on her lips, a wild energy simmering underneath her calm exterior. She steps aside, motioning you inside with an almost nonchalant flick of her hand, like she’s inviting you into some casual dinner party, not a murder scene.

“Come on in,” Paige murmurs, her voice low, still tinged with excitement.

You step inside, your shoes making soft thuds against the hardwood floor. As you move past her, you catch the faintest whiff of blood—coppery, metallic—and it sends a rush through you, like a shot of adrenaline straight to your veins. Paige closes the door behind you, and you take in the scene in front of you.

Kelsey is on the floor, twitching in agony, her body twisted at an unnatural angle. She’s choking on her own blood, gasping and gargling as it pools in her mouth, her eyes wide with terror and pain. It’s clear she’s still alive, but just barely. Paige has done her job, but she’s left enough for you to finish.

Paige steps up behind you, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. “She’s all yours,” she whispers, pressing the bloody knife into your hand. The blade is still warm, slick with Kelsey’s blood, and the weight of it in your hand sends a thrill through you.

You take the knife, your fingers tightening around the hilt as you approach Kelsey’s broken, twitching form. Her eyes, glazed over with fear and pain, manage to lock onto yours as you kneel beside her. The sound of her labored breathing is all you can hear, the wet gurgle of blood in her throat. You smile down at her, a sweet, almost tender expression crossing your face.

“Hi, Kelsey,” you say softly, your voice gentle, as if you’re greeting an old friend.

You think you hear her try to form the word please, but it’s lost in the thick, choking blood that fills her throat. Her body jerks slightly, like she’s trying to move, trying to plead, but it’s useless now.

You bring the knife to her face, the tip of the blade tracing lightly along her cheek, not even hard enough to cut. It’s almost affectionate, the way you drag the metal across her skin. But then, with a quick, practiced motion, you bring the knife down to her throat, slitting it cleanly, efficiently. There’s a brief spray of blood—splashing up onto your face—as her body convulses once, twice, and then slumps against the floor, lifeless.

“Fucking bitch,” you mutter under your breath, watching the last bit of life drain from her body. You stay there for a moment, just staring at her, taking in the scene—the blood, the broken, twisted limbs, the silence that settles over the room now that she’s dead.

You’re still staring when you feel Paige behind you again, pulling you up to stand. Her hands slide around your waist, her front pressing against your back. One of her big hands splays across your stomach, holding you close, while her other finds your wrist, gently taking the knife from your hold.

“That was so hot, baby,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with admiration and lust, her breath right against your ear.

You lean back into her touch, your body relaxing against hers as she starts to pepper soft kisses along your neck, her lips trailing up your jawline. The tension in the room shifts from the violence of the kill to something more intimate, more charged. You close your eyes, letting the sensation of her mouth on your skin, her hands on your body, wash over you.

Paige’s teeth graze against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck before she begins to suck, hard enough to leave a mark. You gasp softly, the sensation heightened as her hands slowly slide up your arms, fingers brushing the fabric of your zip-up hoodie. In one smooth motion, she tugs it down, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your red, lacy tank top. Ironically, the color is a perfect match for the blood spattered across the room, across both of you.

Her hands move to your shoulders first, but then one of them drifts lower, grabbing at your chest, squeezing your tit through the thin lace, pulling your back tighter against her front. You feel caged in her hold, a gasp escaping your lips as her grip grows firmer. But the real shock comes when you feel the teasing touch of the knife, the cold metal ghosting along the skin of your arm. Paige trails it down, tracing the sliver of bare skin just below where your tank top ends and just above where your sweatpants begin.

And then, with deliberate precision, Paige slashes the knife upward, cutting clean through the middle of your tank top. The fabric falls open, revealing your skin to the cool air and the warmth of her breath on your neck. You whine softly, “P, that was expensive.”

Paige just chuckles darkly, her fingers tightening around your breast, thumb brushing over your now pert nipple, as she whispers, “I’ll buy you another one.” With that, she pulls the torn fabric off you, letting it drop to the ground, leaving you completely topless. You weren’t wearing a bra beneath the tank, and the sudden exposure makes you shiver, but Paige’s body pressed against yours keeps you warm.

In one swift motion, she’s spinning you around, pressing her lips against yours, kissing you with a rough intensity. You can taste the blood on her lips, probably a mixture of the blood spatters on both of your faces. Her hand grips the side of your neck, holding you firmly in place, while her other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Her palm presses into your lower back, and the cold handle of the knife digs into your skin, a reminder of everything you’ve just done together.

Your hands move instinctively to her ponytail, fingers threading through her braids before you give a slight tug. The moan that escapes from your lips is muffled by her kiss, but it’s enough to make Paige groan against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. You pulling her hair seems to set something off in her, fueling that dark intensity behind her eyes. She bites at your bottom lip, tugging lightly as she starts to push you back, guiding you towards the couch.

When the back of your legs hit the edge, you lose your balance and fall back onto the cushions, and Paige doesn’t waste a second. She’s immediately on top of you, her knee slipping between your legs, nudging against your clothed core with a teasing pressure. Her hand is already at your chest, kneading your breast while her other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you wince—but in the way you like. You can feel the heat building inside you as her fingers press into the sides of your neck, right where your pulse pounds beneath your skin.

Paige’s mouth meets yours again, more demanding this time, her tongue pushing past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own. The pressure of her thumb on your pulse point makes your head swim, the sensation mixing pleasure with just the right hint of pain. You moan again, this time louder, your hips instinctively shifting under her as you crave more of that pressure between your legs.

She pulls away for a moment, just enough to trail her tongue along the edge of your lips, teasing and slow. Her tongue slides down to your chin, licking away the last remnants of the bartender’s blood from earlier, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The metallic tang still lingers as she leans back in to kiss you again, the taste of blood filling both of your mouths, and it only makes you want more.

And then you begin to feel something cold and sharp press against your skin. It takes you a second to realize what it is—she’s taken the knife again, and now the cold, wet metal is sliding over the valley between your breasts. The feeling sends a shiver through your body, and you gasp into her mouth as she presses the blade against your skin, wiping the blood from earlier onto you.

She pulls back slightly, her darkened eyes focused on the trail of blood she’s smearing onto your chest. The sight alone makes your breath catch. Paige’s lips curve into a smirk as she watches your reaction, clearly enjoying the way your body tenses beneath her. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her mouth move downward, trailing kisses along your collarbones, lingering there as her hot breath mingles with the coolness of the blood.

“God, you look so fucking good like this,” Paige murmurs against your skin, her voice low and gravelly. Her lips are teasing, pressing soft, feather-light kisses that make your heart pound harder.

Then she lowers her head further, until her mouth is right between your breasts, where the blood is smeared in a messy line. You feel her tongue dart out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe across your skin, cleaning the blood off in one long motion. The sensation makes you arch your back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as her tongue glides over your skin.

Her knee presses harder between your legs, creating a delicious friction that has you biting your lip, trying to stifle another moan. But it’s impossible to keep quiet when Paige is so close, her body practically overwhelming yours with heat and pressure. You grip her back, nails digging into her shirt as she keeps licking the blood off your chest, the knife still cold in her hand as it brushes against your skin.

Paige chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through you as she moves her lips to one of your breasts, taking your nipple into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive peak, teasing, sucking lightly at first. Your whole body reacts, your breath catching in your throat, and a gasp escapes you as she bites down gently, enough to send a shock of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” she murmurs, her voice muffled against your skin as she switches to your other breast, her mouth relentless. “So perfect and pretty for me, baby.”

Her words send another wave of heat through you, and you can’t help but moan again, louder this time, your body arching into hers. The pressure of her knee between your legs intensifies, and you grind down instinctively, craving more of that contact.

Paige’s mouth leaves your breast, trailing wet kisses down your abdomen. Her tongue flicks out, teasing along your ribs, before she starts sucking at your skin hard enough that you know she’s leaving marks—evidence of where she’s claimed you, the sensation sending sharp tingles through you.

Her hands move with purpose, finding the waistband of your sweatpants. You don’t even realize what she’s doing until you feel her fingers digging into your pocket, pulling something out before she slides your pants down your legs, leaving you in nothing but the lacy red thong that matches the blood-smeared mess around you and that did match your now-ruined tank top.

Paige takes her time, her gaze dark and heated as she admires the way the lace clings to your skin. She reaches out, hooking her finger under the waistband of the thong, pulling it back teasingly. The pressure is light, but it’s enough to make you shiver as she flicks it back against your skin with a soft snap. Paige hums, clearly pleased by your reaction, her smirk growing as her eyes meet yours.

You’re about to say something, maybe tease her back, when you notice what’s in her hand. It takes a second for it to register, but then you realize it’s the voice changer. The same one you use to make all your taunting phone calls.

Paige brings it up to her lips, turning it on with a flick of her thumb. “Do you wanna play a game?” Her voice comes out distorted, deep and twisted in that familiar way, making your heart race with a mix of excitement and surprise.

Immediately, you reach for the voice changer, shaking your head. “Babe, that’s my thing—” you protest, because it is. You’re the one who always calls the shots. You’re the one who makes the phone calls, who controls the game. Not her.

But Paige is quicker. She pulls back just enough to keep it out of your reach, sitting up on her knees and holding the voice changer above her head, far enough that you’d have to try harder to grab it. She cocks her head, a playful yet dangerous glint in her eyes. “Ah-ah,” she clicks her tongue, the sound sharp and commanding. Her expression makes it clear—if you try to take it again, you’re not going to like what happens next.

You lower your hand, your heart pounding in anticipation, your body already responding to the shift in control. Paige’s eyes stay locked on yours, her smile widening as she brings the voice changer back to her lips.

“I said,” she repeats, her voice low and sultry before flicking it back on, “do you wanna play a game?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real defiance behind it, just attitude—the kind Paige loves and hates equally. “What kinda game?” you ask, the challenge evident in your tone.

Paige’s grin grows, dark and wicked. She’s clearly enjoying this. “Oh, it’s simple,” she begins, her voice turning to a dangerous purr. “You’re gonna follow my rules. You do exactly what I say, and maybe I’ll let you finish.”

You scoff a little at that, trying to keep up the act of being unimpressed, but there’s no denying the way her words send a surge of heat straight through you. “And what if I don’t?” you counter, testing her.

Paige’s eyes flash, her smirk growing more predatory, the same look she gets before she kills. She leans in close, the voice changer still in hand as she trails the back of the knife down your stomach, teasingly slow. “Then I’ll make sure you beg for it,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

You feel your throat go dry at the sensation of the knife, her breath, the words she says. You swallow, staying quiet.

“You like that, yeah?” Paige says, her voice dropping lower as she presses the flat of the knife against your stomach, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. “When I’m the one tellin’ you what to do, when I make you all desperate and shi.”

Paige continues to move the knife down, grazing along the edge of your thong, the metal tracing the fabric lightly as she keeps talking through the voice changer. “Here’s what we’re gon’ do,” she starts, giving you a pointed look. “You’re gonna keep your hands right here,” she instructs, using her own hand to bring your wrists together and pulling them over your head, resting behind you against the armrest of the couch. “And you’re not gon’ move them. If you do… I’ll make sure it’s not pretty, ‘kay?” The implication is enough to make your breath hitch.

You stare up at her, heart racing, but you don’t argue. The way she’s looking at you—hungry and in control—makes you want to give in. To let her push you to the edge.

“And you’re gonna beg,” Paige adds, her voice husky, the grin on her face positively wicked. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to let you cum. You’re gonna tell me how much you need it.”

Your lips part, but before you can respond, Paige presses the knife lightly against your skin again, the threat clear but enticing.

“Do you wanna play?” she asks once more, using the voice changer. But this time, it’s not really a question. It’s more of a demand.

You don’t say anything for a long moment, staying silent. But Paige won’t have that. She takes the handle of the knife, lightly stroking your clothed clit with it, keeping her eyes on your face. Your hips buck up involuntarily at the feeling, and your gaze lands on hers, catching sight of her waiting expression. You sigh in discomfort, wanting more, shifting your hips a little. However, you know she won’t give you any more of what you need if you don’t agree to play her stupid fucking game. So, you kiss your teeth and mutter, “Fine. Let’s play.”

Paige immediately grins at your response, clearly eager for some more excitement (as if her night hasn’t been filled with enough of that already), tossing the voice changer across the room. She leans down, pressing her lips against your hipbone as she twists the knife back around to the sharp end, trailing the tip along your thong teasingly. You feel yourself shudder a little bit at the feeling, glancing down, chin pressing into your chest as you try to get a better look.

And then Paige is effectively ruining more of your clothing, tearing the fabric of your thong apart with the knife. It splits open, revealing your glistening cunt to the blonde.

“Paige—” you begin to protest annoyedly, irritated with her affinity of slashing your clothes apart tonight.

However, her head snaps up to look at you at the sound of your attitude leaking back into your voice. She glares, eyes narrowing as she tells you, “Shut the fuck up. Ion wanna hear none of your attitude bullshit tonight.”

You fight the urge to scoff at her, instead opting to stay quiet. You watch as she hooks her fingers around the flimsy fabric of what’s left of your thong before tossing them to the side, leaving you completely naked before her. Before you can even really process what’s going to happen next, she’s leaning in, her hot breath landing between your legs. But instead of her tongue or her lips making contact with your folds, it’s Paige’s teeth—biting at your clit. You gasp at the sensation, a little taken aback at the mixture of sting and serenity, and you can’t help but let your hand fall to her head to hold her there.

She won’t have that, though.

The feeling of your hand in her hair makes her pull back immediately, making you lose any feeling between your legs. You whimper a little at the loss, but she doesn’t care, slapping your hand away from her head. She grabs at the wrist of the same hand she’s just hit, eyes flashing at you as she pulls your arm back above your head, locking your wrists together with her fingers.

“The fuck did I tell you?” she snaps, glaring pointedly, irritation clearly seeping into her. “Keep your hands up there. Don’t fuckin’ move ’em unless I say so.”

You glare back at her, equally annoyed and turned on by her demands. She’s staring expectantly at you, waiting for a response, her nails digging into your wrists slightly. Eventually, you roll your eyes and cave, muttering, “Fine, Jesus.”

You watch as her eyes narrow at the bratty tone of your voice, though—surprisingly—she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t snap at you again to behave yourself. But she also doesn’t do anything. She removes her hands from your wrists, making sure you keep them up there, but, after that, she doesn’t make herself useful in any way. Instead, she leans back a little, her body still between your parted legs, just staring. She keeps her lips pursed as her eyes flick between your face and your glistening cunt that’s on full display before her, just inches away. You shift your hips a little, hoping she’ll get the message and do something for you, but she doesn’t. She just keeps watching you, eyes tracking the movement of your hips, keeping herself still.

You whine a little, nails digging into the couch armrest above you. “What’re you waiting for?” you finally retort, very annoyed by this point.

However, that annoyance seems to seep out of you pretty quickly as you feel the tip of the knife blade dig into your hip bone, just enough that if Paige pushed it any harder, it would certainly draw blood. You swallow a little, looking up at the blonde, trying to hold your ground.

“Enough with the fuckin’ attitude, ma,” she says firmly, clearly as tired of your shit as you are of here. You feel her begin to trail the blade along your skin slightly, before she’s adding, “And what—you already forgot one of my rules?”

You furrow you eyebrows at the question, not sure what she’s referring to. All you can really feel is the heat between your legs, and the stark cold metal of the knife against your skin.

She clicks her tongue at your obvious confusion, tipping the knife against you, breaking the skin ever so slightly. It doesn’t really hurt, just stings some, and you look down to see the tiniest bit of blood surrounding the cut she’s made, a hint of crimson tainting the silver of the knife. And then Paige is crawling a little forward, so that she’s hovering over you, and you feel yourself shiver beneath her.

She leans closer, her breath hot against your cheek, the cold metal of the knife now grazing along the curve of your jaw, before slowly, deliberately, moving toward your lips. She traces the blade across your lower lip, and you feel the wetness of your own blood against it.

“Open,” she orders, her tone firm, eyes alight with a mixture of control and something more primal.

Your heart races, but you do as she says, parting your lips slightly. The flat of the blade presses against your tongue, leaving the metallic taste of your blood in your mouth. She’s watching you do it intensely, pupils blown and eyes focused. And then she’s pulling it back, teasing you, leaving your body tense and wanting. Her lips quirk into a smirk, clearly pleased with the way your body reacts beneath hers, the power she holds over you.

Then she straightens, pulling the knife away, her expression both playful and commanding as she watches you intently. Her voice is soft, but dripping with authority, “You gotta beg for it, baby.”

You bite your lip, staring defiantly up at Paige, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you beg. You can see the flicker of frustration in her eyes as her grip on the knife tightens. She leans in, her breath fanning across your skin, but you hold firm, a smirk playing on your lips despite the tension crackling between you. You’re playing with fire, and you know it.

It’s right then where Paige’s patience snaps. Her hand shoots up to grab your jaw, her fingers pressing into your skin, hard enough to hurt some. “You’re being a real bitch tonight,” she husks, eyes narrowing as her thumb brushes over your lower lip. “I think I might just have to punish you for it.”

You can feel your heart race at her words, but you refuse to back down, a flicker of defiance still lingering in your expression, a slight smirk still pulling up your lips.

Paige tilts her head, her grip tightening slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just act like this and get away with it?” she continues, her voice low and controlled, though you can feel the anger bubbling underneath. “Fine. If you won’t beg, then you don’t get to make a single sound.”

You feel your eyes widen without thinking about it, realizing what she’s getting at, but she only smirks at your reaction.

“If you make any noise,” Paige says, leaning in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “then I won’t let you finish. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not until you learn how to fucking behave.” Her voice is dripping with authority, every word hanging between you like a challenge.

You swallow hard, trying to steel yourself, but the way she’s looking at you—like she’s already won this round—makes it difficult. You know she’s pushing your limits, testing just how far she can take this.

She doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead crawling back down your body, keeping your thighs spread open, resting herself between them. Immediately getting to work, probably impatient herself, her mouth attaches to the skin of your inner thigh, sucking harshly, certainly enough to leave a mark for tomorrow. And then she’s kissing her way up to the cut she’s imprinted on your hip, ghosting her tongue along the small sliver of slashed skin and the blood that rests with it. It stings, and you hear yourself gasp, whimpering at the feeling. She’s not fond of that, though, wanting you to stay quiet as she’s told you, so she pinches your thigh hard. You fight to not let the noise that’s burrowed itself in your throat get through, swallowing it down. If you behave, you’ll get what you want—so you might as well just let her have her fun.

She’s getting closer to where you need her, her nose brushing against your clit as she ghosts her lips along the side of your pussy, teasing you. You shift your hips slightly, desperate for the friction you’ve been needing, but her hands grab at each hip bone, holding you down so you stay still.

And then she’s diving in, pressing her tongue to your aching cunt, licking a long stripe right up between your folds. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the long awaited pleasure, keeping silent just as she told you to. She presses her mouth against you completely, enough to feel her every breath on you, rolling her tongue right against your clit.

Paige moans a little against you, sending vibrations through you that have your legs shaking. As she continues rolling her tongue in that famous, miraculous rhythm of hers against your bundle of nerves, one of her hands reaches up to your tit, thumb brushing along the nipple and pinching it.

You bite your lip, finally being a good girl and listening to Paige’s demands like she’s wanted this whole time. You stay silent, though your breaths come quicker, faster, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Paige’s hand.

She glances up at you, smirking against you as she catches sight of the beads of sweat forming along your skin, your flushed face, the way you’re fighting to stay quiet. Her tongue slides along the expanse of your slit before slipping inside of you, making your thighs quiver and a tiny gasp to escape your lips. Paige glares up at you warningly at that, making sure you remember well that if you’re not quiet, you’re not cumming.

And then she’s returning her focus back to your pussy, sliding her tongue in and out of you a couple times in a slow rhythm. You can tell she’s enjoying this by the way her eyes slip shut, brows furrowing in concentration. She then brings her mouth back up to your clit, flicking her tongue up and down, up and down, up and down, in a way that makes you see stars. You dig your nails into your palms, squeezing your eyes shut at the euphoric feeling.

“Shit,” Paige mumbles as she pulls away, staring at your soaking cunt before adding to the wetness, spitting on you. She watches her saliva slide between your folds and then leans in to lap it up with her tongue. She moans against you, probably at the taste, saying, “You’re gonna kill me with this pussy, baby. Could eat you forever.”

You let out a long, shaky breath at the words, scrunching your face up a little she sucks on your clit. Hard. You feel her teeth scrape against it, too, and you swear your nails are going to draw blood if you dig them any deeper into your skin.

Breathing heavily, she suddenly pulls up and sits on her knees between your legs, letting go of your hips and pushing your legs further apart. Looking down between them, Paige is suddenly thrusting three of her fingers into you without any warning. You can’t help it—it makes you shudder out something between a moan and a gasp, exclaiming, “Fuck!”

Paige won’t have that for a second, immediately pulling her fingers out of you to slap your pussy. “Shut the fuck up,” she tells you, biting along your skin as she slowly crawls up to your face again. “Can’t ever fuckin’ listen to me, can you?” she asks, her fingers trailing to your clit, circling it harshly. It makes your legs shudder and shake and you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur, gasping as you feel the heat in your stomach begin to rise, the coil getting ready to snap.

Paige’s fingers find their way back inside you, all three of them pumping. Your pussy squelches with her relentless pace, the sounds beyond filthy. Her other hand has found it’s way back to your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck, your pulse racing against her hand. “Don’t lie,” she snaps, eyes flitting between your face and the way her fingers are thrusting into you with absolutely no mercy. “You’re not a bitch, I’ve seen you take worse.”

You whimper a little at her words and it only makes her fingers speed up, sliding in and out and then curling in a come hither motion, making you see stars. “Y’know, Kelsey wanted to fuck me,” Paige taunts. Your eyes flash open at the words, the same flare of jealousy and anger rushing into you as remember the night at the bar. Realistically, you know you shouldn’t still care, especially as your gaze darts to see a quick glance of Kelsey’s dead body across the room. But, still, Paige’s words send a rush of irritation through you. She can tell, and she smirks, her thumb now abusing your clit as her fingers continue their pace. “You think she coulda kept quiet? Think she woulda been a good girl for me? She seemed very sweet.”

“She’s dead,” you grunt out, trying not to let Paige’s words get in the way of the feeling of her fingers in you, on you. “So I guess you’ll never know.”

That makes Paige’s hand squeeze your neck a little, enough for you to cry out at the dual sensation of that and her thrusting fingers. It’s all getting too much, the heat building as Paige’s pace keeps steady, your hips rising to meet her digits as they pump in and out. “Fuck, you make me crazy,” the blonde says, her lips trailing to your neck to suck a mark against your skin. “Such a brat, baby.”

The sensation between your legs has you forgetting Paige’s rules, and you think that at this point, she’s forgotten them, too, because your hands are moving from above your head to tangle in her ponytail, tugging as her fingers curl inside you. She doesn’t do anything to stop you, instead humming against your neck.

“P,” you manage to gasp out, voice shaking. You’re faintly aware that you’re sweating, your hair sticking sticking to your damp forehead and neck, your whole body pulsing with heat. “Paige, ‘m gonna cum.”

Paige nods against you, her tongue swiping against the hollow of your throat, her fingers thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. Vaguely, you wonder if her hand is cramping yet. “I know, baby,” she says a little breathlessly, against your skin. “Come on, ma, give it to me. Wanna feel it bad.”

You let out a shaky cry, hands finding their way beneath Paige’s shirt, nails digging into her back, certainly leaving scratch marks. Every thrust, every breath that Paige takes against your skin—it’s all too much, and you can feel herself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, the pleasure building with every second.

And then you’re moaning out, “Oh my God—fuck!” as the coil within you snaps, your back arching against Paige’s hand, your heart racing. “Fuck,” you say again, quieter this time, trying to blink away the stars in your vision.

Your breath comes in quick bursts as you slowly come down from your high, feeling a euphoric mixture of adrenaline and warmth coursing through your veins. You lean back against the couch cushions, now damp with blood and your own arousal, your skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Paige presses further into you, her breath hot and feverish against your neck, and you feel her say your name against your skin. And then she’s slowly pulling her fingers out of your soaking cunt, trailing them up to your mouth as she draws back slightly.

She slips them past your lips and you let her, mouth sucking her fingers clean, tongue gliding along her digits. The way her eyes glaze over watching you do it, lust filling her pupils, makes you think that you’re about to get fucked into oblivion for a round two. But then her gaze trails somewhere behind your head—probably to Kelsey’s dead body, if you had to guess—and she’s sighing, resigned, as she pulls her fingers from your mouth, tangling them in your hair. She presses her lips against yours firmly for just a moment, before she’s pulling away, saying, a smirk pulling the corners of her lips up, “We gotta go before they catch us.”

You frown a little, pouting as you say, “Fun’s over.”

She shakes her head slightly at you, still smirking as she responds, “Nah, when we get home, we can have all the fun you want.” And then she’s reaching down onto the floor, grabbing the ghostface mask and slipping it over your head, covering your face. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You slip into your clothes quickly, watching as Paige grabs the knife and checks around the room to see if either of you have forgotten anything. Once you’re ready, the two of you open the apartment door, leaving your mess for someone to find later. However, you and Paige leave, she of course does not forget to call out into the empty apartment, “Bye, Kelsey!”

The door slams shut behind you, and, obviously, there is no response back.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn wbb #uconn #wbb #uconn huskies #paige bueckers smut #wcbb #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #ghostface #wlw

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dilf-docs · 21 days ago

Text

The Rock N' Roll Got Harder and Softer

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: common sense isn't really your strongest suit. so here you are, riding a stranger's bike on halloween night. hey, he saved you! with one hell of a costume, no doubt. because it has to be one, right?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (do we see the blog name? get used to it), smut, flirty reader! she's got no shame just game ++ also overshares (sorry if this trait is mischaracterizing you, everything will be okay❤️) praise kink, oral f. receiving (have u seen that tongue? ik its abt eddie but venom's tongue plays a part there... he defo going in my hear me out cake), does this count as sub!eddie idk?? the man is touch starved, p. in v. (use protection okay!! don't be like these dumb horny bitches), reader gets harrassed but the lethal protector saves the day!!

word count: 5,008 words

side note: i was re watching venom 1 and watching venom 2 since my friends want to see the third, so i got the tom hardy and his plump princess lips have to be mine virus!! like i wish i was kidding but after watching the movies and the top 100 dilf poll on twitter i felt in the need to use my hands (iykyk) ++ after finding out i have a pattern for lonely fucked up dilfs (first with old man logan now eddie). also, irdgaf halloween just passed; let's pretend ur calendar got stuck on the 31st as u read this. also, this can happen after venom (2018) but the time isn't really important!

This is stupid.

It's a cold october night, the wind blowing in your face, and you're navigating this part of the neighborhood you don't know in nothing but a skimpy red bathing suit, like it's a hot summer day.

Dressing up as Pamela Anderson in Baywatch sounded much better a couple months ago; not now, when all the people passing by ogle your body up and down, whether it be with lust or judgment.

Your night has gone to shit: you feel cold, hungry, tipsy and vulnerable. One thing is wanting to be objectified by the possible candidates you would take home from the party, and other is being eyed by strangers who look at your body like hungry wolves.

You finally spot a mini-market amid the packed street, blue hues of light providing some sense of relief.

After getting something to drink and eat, you'll probably feel better and have the energy to walk home; there's no way you and your very small costume are getting inside an uber at ten o'clock tonight.

The bell chimes in as you enter the store, but the lady behind the counter doesn't even glance your way, focused on the TV behind her.

"Hi" she waves her hand absentmindedly, "Do you have any water?"

She mutters something that sounds like an annoyed of course we do, and points to the freezer in the back, still without looking.

"Alright, thanks" you say, walking to the freezer section and grabbing a bottle you chug until it's almost empty. You're still hungry, but at least your throat doesn't feel like you've eaten sand anymore.

With the bottle in your hand, you take the time to scour around the store, looking for something to eat. You finally decide on some chocolates; heck, it's halloween. Going home and stuffing your face with a bunch of candy for what's left of the night does sound nice.

You finally spot the chocolates on a display, moving towards it. As you're about to grab a bunch and go, another hand interrupts you.

"Oh!" you exclaim out loud, stepping back.

Maybe you're haven't gone trick or treating in years, but you will treat yourself tonight. And not with the chocolates. There's a God out there, definitely, who has blessed you not only with great curves but also with the chance of showing them off in the precise moment.

"Sorry!" your voice chirps a bit too excited for your liking. Control yourself. You clear your throat, suspecting the burn in your cheeks gives you away.

You're supposed to be confident! Flirty and charming! You're young and pretty! But how can you not be nervous when the stranger looks like that?

The eye candy who sports tattoos and a bad boy aroma that makes you drool; the jacket and beat up look just adds the perfect layer to the whole vibe. You're known to have a preference for men who look like he does. Something about the dangerous makes your heart race and skin prickle. Then your eyes travel to the motorcycle helmet in his right hand. Yummy.

The heat in your cheeks returns.

You don't even know his name, yet you've oggled him up and down without shame. It's probably all the pent up energy you had saved for the party. You figure it has to be invested somewhere else. Maybe with him.

Him, who's way older than the other guys you've been with. But that just just makes it even better.

"It's okay" he speaks up, and his voice is not only what you imagined it to be. The rich grave undertone is making your panties wet just with the sound. "You go first"

He points to the stand full of said treats. You motion forward, not without putting some extra sway and effort in your walk. By the reflection of the mirror in the corner, you know you've at least got his attention.

"Done" you say, leaving some space for him to pass. "Would the gentleman give me the honor of knowing his name?"

"I'm Eddie" he extends his hand, "Eddie Brock".

You shouldn't be this excited to shake a hand but when his large palm engulfs yours, you find it hard to let go.

With the closeness, you take another look at his face, getting lost in his warm eyes and the eyebags that adorn them. It's unfair how good they suit him; unlike you after a wild night out.

"Nice to meet you. Very nice, indeed" you purr.

You also make sure to bat your eyelashes in a way your friends tease you but has proven to be effective every time.

It seems to have done its magic, because he also takes a look at you.

But it's different.

You can sense something else is happening when his eyebrows furrow first, then face contorting into a disgusted expression as Venom says: I want to eat her, Eddie. I bet she tastes as sweet as she sounds! It's too tempting!

"Shut up" he mumbles (but loud enough for you to hear), then mutters something like We're just supossed to eat the bad guys! but you're confused and hurt, so you don't really pay attention; your ego really taking a blow tonight.

"I beg your pardon?"

Eddie curses under his breath, "that wasn't for you".

"Right" you chuckle dryly, looking around at the empty store. "Don't see who else that could be for"

"I'm sorry, it's hard to explain" he rushes the apology, looking rather embarrassed. "Now, if you excuse me".

And walks past you like it's nothing. Maybe that weird spark you felt was just on you; the interest isn't mutual.

"Hi Mrs. Chen" you hear him salute the lady behind the counter. Sighing, you grab your chocolates and head to cash out, adding another deception to your already bad night.

The bell chimes again when you make your way to the line, behind Eddie, but this time, you don't bother to look.

"Well, hello" the voice behind you says. It takes you a few seconds to realize they're talking to you.

"Hi" you mutter a bit annoyed, looking at the front. The silence is dense, the beep of each of Eddie's (million) of chocolates being the only silence filling the store.

"Won't even spare a glance, doll?" they continue, despite your clear apathy. "C'mon, lemme see if that face is as pretty as your ass"

Blood rushes to your face, and you're so embarrassed your body stiffs, fully aware the other two people in the store have noticed. You hug your body, because there isn't really anything you can cover yourself with right now, not daring to look back.

Well, fuck me.

If you thought leaving the party was going to solve your problems, it's only proven to cause more.

Eddie finishes, leading to your turn. You give a strained smile to Mrs. Chen, and she just gives you a look of pity.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" they start to get irritated, and you just pray they don't follow you outside once you're done. "Are you deaf, Pamela?" he mocks, making your blood boil and skin sweat.

Mrs. Chen is done, but the stranger isn't taking your silence as an answer. Before you can leave, they grab your hand.

"Already leaving? You haven't even given me your name yet"

It's such a silly thought to have right now, but you realize you hadn't given Eddie your name either.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but she's clearly not interested, buddy" a voice speaks out, and you know it. It's probably the panic but you hadn't realize Eddie's still here. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and even thought you hate having to depend on a man to be left alone, you need his help; so you plead, boring into his warm chocolate eyes.

"In case you haven't noticed, this is a two people conversation" the stranger snarls.

"Looks more like a one sided conversation to me" he bites back, making the stranger mad. That's the last thing you need. You just want to go home and curl under your warm and soft blankets; you've even lost your appetite.

"It's none of your business. Are you not understanding?"

"Oh, but that's the problem. You're the one that isn't understanding" what appears to be black surrounds his before bare neck, and you feel like you haven't completely sobered up, your mind playing games with you. The black engulfs his whole body, making him taller and more intimidating.

"It is" he threats on a distorted voice. Now, where Eddie's face used to be, another one replaces him: with white instead of two eyes and a big mouth with teeth and a really long tongue.

You hadn't even drink that much. No way this is real.

The stranger gulps, petrified. Oh, so they see it too; it's not you.

"Sorry, idiot. The lifeguard shift is over" and before the stranger replies, his head dissapear inside the mouth, chopping it off.

"Fuck!" you curse out loud, the body falling limp at your side.

A shiver runs through your back. This is a nightmare.

"Well, now that makes us two who know your secret now" Mrs. Chen adds in a rather monotone voice, and you wonder if people have gone insane―you included.

You can't even speak. Less when the black starts dissappearing, and it's Eddie's face and body again.

"Hey, sorry about that" you don't know who Eddie is talking to when saying that. "You okay?"

Okay? Sure, that you are. Fine? Not really.

"It's alright if you're scared" he reaches out to you but you flinch. He looks used to it, apparently, "I know this is weird".

You chuckle, bemused. "Weird? Not even in my wildest acid trip, I could've imagine that"

"It's easy to explain, but hard to understand" he begins, but trails off. "Would you, uh, let me?"

Well, he had saved you. If he wanted to eat you and have you go the same fate your harasser did, he would've done it by now.

Besides, common sense isn't really your strongest suit. Never was. You've had so many problems stem from it, including tonight's events, that you could probably write a column or do a podcast of it.

"Sure" you agree, "as long as you don't eat me".

You regret the (attempt at a) joke as soon as it leaves your mouth, but that is gone when you hear him laugh. A little pride fills your chest, especially at the velvet-like sound.

"I won't" he raises his palms in a playful manner, "but he wants to".

Not anymore, you don't eat the people you save!

"He?" you quirk an eyebrow, "you better rush that explanation, yeah?"

"Sure" he chuckles, "uh?"

"Y/n" you answer, and the honeyed tone is back. God, you need to get a grip. This guy could snap you in, "but just for tonight, Casey Jean Parker. So you better put some good use to it before she leaves, cowboy"

"Will take it into account, blonde" he laughs at your hair.

You hate it because it reminds you of Anne, pussy.

"Hey, it's a good wig!" you playfully slap his shoulder. "You wish you had hair like this".

You flip it, to which he just laughs. Then he bids goodbye to Mrs. Chen and you both head outside, where the wind hits your body cruelly.

A curse leaves your mouth, "Shit"

Eddie notices. Before you can react, he's putting his jacket over your shoulders.

"You got the seasons messed up, baby" he jokes, the pet name rolling off his tongue a bit too easily, "don't even think about taking it off; don't want you to catch a cold".

There's a beat of silence before he asks:

"So, about the costume..."

"I know" you properly put his jacket on. It smells like him: pine, gasoline, sweat and a bit of chocolate. "It sounded better when I came up with it in August"

"No!" he corrects hastily, then coughs "I like it".

Light pink creeps up his cheeks.

"Good to know I still got the charm" you joke, winking.

"Was this" he points with his ringed fingers up and down, "for a contest?"

"No, a party. Jesus, how old do you think I am?" you chastise in a mocking tone. "It's what pretty college girls do, Eddie: party".

Venom likes parties! I like her, Eddie!

"And if that's what you do, pretty girl" two can play the game it seems, "what exactly are you doing out of the water, Ms. Parker?"

You scoff, shocked. "You're supposed to give me your answer first".

Fortunately for Brock, you have a bad habit to overshare; it gets worse, especially with men. God knows you don't know such thing as boundaries.

You lay against the concrete wall, exhaling. Your worries condense in front of you as Eddie waits attentively, examining the way your face falls.

"I was supposed to go to a party today, hence the costume" you motion to your body, "but things went wrong".

"So you went?"

"And left" you add, "which wasn't part of the plan".

He lays next to you, crossing his arms. You try not to get distracted with the closeness.

"Why did you?"

"Leave? Because... well, things happened".

Your skin prickles uncomfortably, like it did back at the house you ran away from―the whole reason you're here, next to Eddie.

"That thing being...?" Brock presses, then realizing you probably don't want to tell, so he shuts up.

"Don't worry" it's like you guess his thoughts, "It's just... sort of embarrassing".

You breathe in some air.

"He wasn't supossed to be there. My ex" you clarify, "yet he went. And guess what? With his new girlfriend! And alright, I'm not a girl who holds grudges, but it hasn't even been two months since we broke up and now he's matching costumes with her?"

Saying it out loud sounds a tad bit childish, but Eddie doesn't seem to be judging, and your pride continues to be bruised, so you carry on with your little rant.

"So I drank a little too much and went up to them. I don't know what took over me, but one second I was dancing and then Pamela Anderson in Baywatch was grabbing Pamela Anderson as Tommy Lee's wife by her hair. Real blonde hair, on top of that... that bitch. I decided to be Pamela Anderson first! Which, by the way, would never do that. She truly is a girl's girl" pause, "by that I mean parading around with the guy I ended things with because of you"

We should eat them.

Instead of what Venom said, Eddie asks:

"Your boyfriend cheated on you?"

"Yeah" embarrassment washes over you, "The owner of the house is friend's with her. So, I decided it was for the best to leave. My not so bright idea that followed was to walk to the nearest store for some junk and head home. And now I ended on this side of town I don't know. Lucky me"

Lucky us that found you.

"Wow" Eddie manages to muster after all your information dump and Venom's little comment, "they're idiots. I'm sorry".

"Thanks, but my night is still ruined" you take a look at your legs, "now I have to walk home, and I suspect, bare―without your jacket".

He doesn't know what takes over him when he says, or maybe it's Venom giving him the boost of courage he needs.

"Need'a ride?" your face morphs into surprise. He adds, "Keep my jacket. That way you can give it back when we're there"

Your eyes trail to the bike parked on the side, which you guess belongs to him. This is hard because the decision is so easy.

Hey, sometimes you gotta do it for the plot!

"We both win" is his way of insisting. "No more stares, and my jacket gets express delivered to me".

You don't need that much insisting, almost instantly caving in, walking over the bike and hoping behind him―like you know he'd never hurt you; full on trusting him.

"I don't have a spare one. Use mine" he apologizes, handing you the helmet he carried before.

"Thanks" you accept, "at this point I'll have to pay you. Do you accept my chocolates? It's all I got with me"

"We'll discuss those arrangements later" his deep voice comments, and well, you might just give him anything he wants!

Before you can regret your life choices, the engine roars, Eddie making his way through the street, all your surroundings reduced to a blur.

"Woah!" you shout, but it gets lost in the wind and speed. Luckily for you, the wig is secured inside the helmet. At this speed, there would be a blonde mop on the street somewhere.

"Liking it?" he asks over the noise. You only can happily humm in response.

Honestly, you've never felt this... free before. It's liberating: your hair dancing in the wind, the crisp trepidation in your fingers, the way you dare yourself to let loose and let the experience consume you. It's the first time you truly feel alive.

All you can think now is on the adrenaline coursing through your system. That and the way you're holding onto Eddie's thick back, your arms caging his form. You can feel his heartbeat too, as steady as yours. You can't help but wonder if it's because of the ride or the passenger he's carrying in the back.

You keep giving him directions whenever he looks back, keeping it like that until you both arrive at your apartment complex.

Once the bike is parked, he whistles. "Nice. Much better than mine"

You give his helmet back, taking the wig off in the process too.

"I'll have to see it to believe it" you tease, and if he heard, Eddie pretends not to.

There's some silence until you understand it's over: the original "stuffing and watching horror movies until I sleep" isn't sounding as good as extending your time with Eddie. For some reason, you can't seem to let go yet, and accept that tonight was a rare occasion that will only be once.

"Well, I guess this is it" you hate the way the obvious disappointment drips in your tone, "thank you, Eddie. Goodnight"

You hop off and take the jacket out of your body. If your skin gets goosebumps, you'll blame the cold.

Guess Pamela Anderson didn't work her magic tonight.

"Wait!"

Or maybe she did.

"Yes?" you turn around, smiling a bit too much.

Eddie doesn't look at you when he says, "we didn't discuss the payment"

Your red lips purse into a smile.

"We can discuss the details inside" and point out your apartment on the third floor, "for the cold, obviously. It's warm up there, you know; I've been told they like my heat"

You finally recognize the feeling from before, at the store. It's mutual. The tension; it still lingers.

"Sure" he says sounding all but that, "show me the way".

Your voice drops as you say, "Follow me, then"

And you lead the way: wet spot in between your legs, growing as your excitement. As you open the door, Eddie can't help but think the inside is so you: sweet and girly―like a strawberry bubblegum.

"Like what you see?" you joke, sitting in the couch. It has double meaning, obviously, but Eddie is so oblivious he just answers:

"It's so... you" mentally slapping himself when he says it, "I mean... you know, pink"

Idiot! She's talking about herself.

You giggle, "And?"

Patting the empty spot next to you, Brock walks over, like in a trance. You can see him gulp―nervous, the adam's apple on his throat bobbing.

Coward! Say something.

"Pretty..." he breathes out.

His hand finds its way to your bare thigh, and the touch is so electric, it takes you a lot not to jump at the contact.

Now kiss her!

"Don't be scared, Eddie" your voice is so low he swears he's dreaming. "I don't bite" there's a pause before you add, "unless you want me to".

Do it!

He would be lying if he said Venom is the reason why he leans forward, wrapping his lips around yours. Why he suddenly feels hungry, starving, eating your mouth out like he hasn't had a meal in days is beyond him.

"That's right" you moan between kisses, "cash your pay out, cowboy".

His hands tug on your hair as he deepens the kiss, a few groans echoing around the apartment.

"I like it" he twirls a strand in between your fingers, "suits you better".

There's a hearty laug emitting from your chest, "you do? Show me then"

It's like something snapped inside of him.

His hand moves to hug you from behind, right at the bare spot the swim suit had.

"You smell so sweet" Eddie's inhaling the vainilla scent off your soft skin, and Venom growls in pleasure, "like a pastry".

You have to laugh again, because this man is clearly touched starved.

Now he's rubbing his nose along the length of your neck, leaving some wet kisses that have you swearing his tongue isn't human. He mumbles incoherences like he's drunk, begging he wants to shove his mouth where it belongs: that being between your legs, to taste what he’s been craving for so long.

"Well, if you want it so bad" you make a play at his earlier words, "eat it".

So with trembling hands, he's pushing the little piece of bathing suit until your clit is exposed. His other hand grips your hip, and it doesn't take that long for him to fall onto his knees, the pink fluffly carpet on the floor providing some ground.

He beggins to toy with it, leaving you to collect a gasp. Alright! He has experience. Not that you ever doubted it, but now that he's here, his fingers inside of you, you can't help but feel the luckiest girl in the world.

"Thought the sweet you wanted was some chocolates" you manage to joke between moans, his thick fingers too busy lubing the needy area.

He gets another moan out of you, "this is better" grabbing a finger out, he licks a bit of your essence left on his fingers, "tastes much better. Look at you, so wet already; good girl"

Now he's doing tight little circles, his thick fingers speeding up the pace―quicker and quicker, until you're writhing in his grip. Your red nail dig into his forearm leaving little crescents. The haze may be too much that you don't know if the way they instantly heal is something you imagined or not.

"P-please, Eddie" you mewl.

Let me try, Eddie.

Without explaining, his tongue begins licking your inner thighs where your liquids dripped. It sends a shiver down your spine, and God, how thankful you are about leaving the party. The consequences of your petty fight and disastrous little adventure didn't end up being so bad.

"Sweet" he exclaims in that distorted voice back from the store. Your eyes go wide, so he rushes an "I'll explain later".

He doesn't give you much time to dwell on it before his tongue finds its way to your core again: the muscle licking the wet folds of your sensitive clit before diving fully. You swear his tongue has gotten longer with the way he explores your warm insides, quickly finding the spot no one but yourself has correctly pleased before.

Soft sobs fall from your lips. "Yes, More! P-please!"

His tongue continues its ministrations, almost lazily against it. Your body tenses up, reacting to him so well, and the familiar warmth pools in your abdomen.

He keeps licking until you’re twitching in over-sensitivity. A groan escapes his drooling lips, "I'm still a gentleman, you know?" the vibration his voice makes in between your legs sends a delicious wave that does nothing but ignite the fire pooling in the low of your stomach. "Ladies first"

You deliciously cum on his awaiting tongue. Even in your haze, you find his eyes, and the previous warm brown looks closer to hungry now, his pupils blown wide.

"Go ahead" you encourage, "be a good boy for me and taste it".

His fingers lick your remains off of them, his tongue making an obscene display.

"Will you let me pay you, now?"

He doesn't even need to wait, his hand eagerly taking his cock out of his pants―taking the sweat pants out in record time, sliding his girth between your legs, rubbing it against your folds that give him a warm welcome, coating it in your wetness.

Eddie slides inside you with ease, his hands resting on your waist as he slams his entire length inside you. The couch creaks, the only other sound in the apartment your hiss, because of the initial stretch. He gives you time to adjust and then he starts moving.

"Y/n, God. You pretty sweet thing" his hot breathe mumbles against your ear.

Never in your life you would've thought you'd gone home with a complete stranger, but by the way Eddie Brock is deep inside you right now, you may do it more often. Or even better, bring him back. Maybe meet his apartment next time.

Eddie thinks he's gone insane. He's never had sex like this before. Not even on his wildest dreams. Hell, doesn't know if it's the lack of activity before you, your filthy mouth dripping with moans or the way you perfectly wrap around him, or maybe his newfound stamina he could finally put to use, thanks to Venom. Maybe it's all that, but who cares? God, he's loving every second of it.

Eddie uses his hands to grab your ass, holding onto the soft flesh so firm, you'll have bruises tomorrow for sure. He starts pumping you fast and deep like an animal. You muffle your screams against the crook of his neck, fully aware that doesn't stop the paper thin walls from telling your neighbours the good time you're having.

You feel your moves start to get unsteady, your orgasm closer and closer. "I'm c-close" you blurt out and he growls instead of talking. The way your body jolts with each of his poundings is insane. Your friend will never let this go if you tell them. But it just feels so fucking good.

"Fuck!"

Your whole body shakes when the wave of pleasure heats you. His hand is suprinsingly soft, caressing your cheek as you rest your forehead against his to catch your breathe.

"That's the best sex I've ever had" he confesses, his voice sounding drunk. Every drop of alcohol in your system has completely vanished by now, but you feel dizzy too, the overstimulation driving your senses to it's limits.

But it doesn't make you stop.

"How can you rate something that hasn't finished?" you move your body so Eddie stays against the coach. When he realizes what you're trying to do, he half-supresses a moan. "If you want to give your opinion, you better finish the whole plate".

So now you're on top of him, riding his cock like nothing; you must also have a symbiote inside of you, because Eddie can't explain your infinite stamina. So young, so pretty and so goddamn tight; he really won tonight, huh?

The change of position makes his cock slightly change the angle, hitting your g-spot. "Oh my god, right here!" you gasp. Your pussy clenches while you keep bouncing on his dick. If it weren't for the bathing suit, your tits would be bouncing. That doesn't mean he doesn't imagine them, your nipples perking through the fabric making it all too easy.

"You're so perfect" he whispers against your shoulder, "you sweet little thing".

If he keeps calling you like that, you might ask him to stay the night.

You feel like it, so, as a reward, you press your lips against his and he moans at your cunt clenching. He knows you are close again.

"Cum for me, y/n" he demands in his deep voice. Your name in his lips is such an addictive sound, you're sure you've reached heaven.

"Cum with me, Eddie" you manage to say.

So now he sits a little straighter on your poor couch (that's seen and taken only so much) so he can wrap his other arm around your waist. You take him deeper every time, even if now the position makes it a bit uncomfortable, but every shiver of pleasure you get is worth it.

"At least look at me when you do it" his brown orbs bore into yours. You can't hold back any longer, your hips rolling to increase the friction.

Your second orgasm washes over you: toes curling and body shaking. You've never felt more tired and energetic in your life. So you fall in Eddie's strong tattoed arms. He joins you, painting your tight walls with his thick and white shots of cum.

You are both out of breathe but Eddie takes his time and kisses you deeply.

"I think this life guard is out of duty for now" you mumble sleepily against his arms, tracing lazily his tattoos. He chuckles, moving one of his hands to brush strands of your damp hair from your forehead.

"What about the chocolates?" he jokes.

"Fuck them" you yawn, "stay here". He might've heard it wrong.

Stupid Eddie and stupid little human brain. She wants us here!

After some minutes of silence your sleepy voice mumbles, "You didn't explain me anything, cheater. If you want to stay, talk".

He feels you rest your head on his shoulder, sleep taking control of your form. You look so cute, he starts to forget how shitty his life actually is.

Hey! I can hear your thoughts, idiot. Your life isn't shitty anymore, I'm here!

"How about a bed time story? I promise I won't leave any detail out"

You cuddle closer to his warm body, "Promise?"

He intertwines his pinky finger with yours, promising himself this won't be the last time he sees you.

"Promise"

#dilfistwrites #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock fanart #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock smut #eddie brock fanfic #venom #venom movie #venom symbiote #venom smut #venom spoilers #venom 3 #venom the last dance #marvel #marvel smut #pls excuse the filth<3

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021894s · 28 days ago

Text

DEVIL’S TEMPTATION - p.sh

SUMMARY: At your colleges annual halloween party, playful teasing and shared glances lead you and sunghoon away from the crowd, turning a night of costumes and games into one of passion and desire.

PAIRING: fwb!sunghoon x f!reder

WARNINGS: language, vampire sunghoon (need), oral sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk

WC: 3k

You and Ningning are in your dorm room, clothes strewn everywhere, mirrors covered in smudges of makeup and remnants of past party prep. Ningning is busy applying her eyeliner in the small, circular mirror on your dresser, occasionally glancing over at you with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously, you’re going to kill him tonight,” she says, adjusting her angel halo as she takes in your devil costume. “He’s not even going to know what hit him.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “It’s just a costume. And who says I’m dressing up for him?”

She laughs, not buying it for a second. “Oh, come on. I know you two only see each other ‘casually,’ but Sunghoon’s been glued to you ever since this little arrangement started.” She finishes her eyeliner with a flourish, then looks back at you. “Honestly, are you going to ignore him all night or have a little fun with him?”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking at your reflection as you adjust your devil horns. “Maybe both. We’ll see who breaks first.”

“Spoken like a true mastermind,” she says, giving you a proud nod. “Just make sure you save some time for me tonight, alright? I refuse to be ditched halfway through again.”

Laughing, you grab your purse and give her a playful shove. “Deal. Now come on, let’s get to that party and see if these costumes are worth all the trouble.”

The two of you head out, and the energy of the party is electric by the time you step into the packed living room. The music thumps through the walls, people already dancing, laughing, and mingling, each person’s costume somehow wilder than the last. But even through the crowd, your eyes find him — Sunghoon, leaning casually against the wall, his lips curled in that lazy smirk you know so well. He’s dressed as a vampire, black leather jacket hugging his shoulders, his prominent canines serving as fangs, gleaming when he finally spots you.

Ningning gives you a nudge. “Good luck, devil,” she teases before disappearing into the crowd.

You know that look, the way his gaze sweeps over you with the hint of a challenge. Smirking, you take your time sauntering over, putting a little extra sway in your step. His eyes roam from the devil horns down to the lace and leather of your outfit, and his smirk widens, intrigued. “Well, well,” he murmurs when you’re close enough to hear, his tone almost a purr. “Didn’t know the devil would look this good tonight.”

You roll your eyes, pretending not to feel the heat of his attention. “Guess that makes me your worst nightmare, huh?” you say, arching a brow as you match his playful tone.

He laughs, reaching out to gently tug one of your devil horns. “Oh, trust me. I think I can handle a little hellfire.” His fingers linger on the headband for just a second longer than necessary, and you feel a shiver of anticipation race through you. It’s always like this with him — a constant tease, a familiar game where neither of you ever really wins or loses.

“Big words,” you quip, tilting your head. “But I’m not sure a vampire’s bite would faze me.”

He leans in, his voice dropping low enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Is that a challenge?”

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Only if you think you’re up for it.”

Sunghoon’s grin widens, and he steps even closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now. “You know I always am.”

The party rages on around you, but in that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you, caught in a dangerous, thrilling game you can’t resist.

Sunghoon doesn’t miss a beat. As you exchange that familiar banter, he glances toward the kitchen, tipping his head toward the bar setup. “Want a drink?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Depends. You offering to play bartender tonight?”

He chuckles, low and smooth. “Only for you.” He gently takes your hand, guiding you through the crowded room to the makeshift bar. He lets go, but you’re still keenly aware of his presence as he pours you a drink, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

He hands you the cup, fingers brushing yours, lingering just long enough to send a spark of excitement through you. You raise it to him in a mock toast, “To the devil and the vampire,” you say with a grin.

He raises his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “To the deadliest duo in the room.”

You sip your drink, savoring the cool burn, and watch as he leans against the counter, his gaze lazy but focused, like he’s savoring every inch of your costume. It feels like a dare every time he looks at you — as if he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how it affects you.

“So…” he drawls, tilting his head as his eyes flicker to your horns, then back to your face. “What kind of trouble does the devil plan on getting into tonight?”

You laugh, shrugging. “Depends on who I’m with, I guess.”

He steps in closer, lowering his voice, his lips just barely brushing your ear. “If you’re with me, I can promise you all the trouble you want.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you’re not sure if it’s from his words or the feeling of his breath on your skin. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and intense. “You look incredible,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “I’ve been trying not to stare, but shit… you make it impossible.”

You swallow, barely able to find your voice as he leans in again, this time his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I want you so bad right now.”

And just like that, you’re melting, caught in the electric pull that seems to only exist between the two of you. The party fades into the background, the only thoughts in your head being of him and the growing wetness in your panties.

You can’t help the way your pulse quickens at his words, the room feeling suddenly smaller, the music dulling to a hum around you. Sunghoon’s fingers trail down your arm, lingering at your wrist before he takes your hand, his touch gentle but firm, as if daring you to stop him.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his gaze intense, a spark of challenge flickering in his eyes.

You barely manage a nod, and he leads you away from the crowded living room, weaving through a throng of costumed students until you’re both tucked away in a quieter corner down the hall. It’s dark here, the shadows dancing across his face as he leans back against the wall, pulling you close, his hands finding their way to your waist.

“Just wanted some time alone with you,” he says, voice low, his fingers tracing little circles against your hips. He pulls you in even closer, his gaze locked onto yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a promise in his touch.

You let out a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know vampires liked getting alone time with devils.”

“Vampires can’t help themselves,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a smirk. “Especially when the devil looks this tempting.”

His fingers trace along the edge of your costume, barely grazing your skin, and it’s enough to send a thrill through you. Your hands settle on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the leather of his jacket, and he tilts his head down, his face mere inches from yours.

“You do this to me every time,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, his gaze intense. “Showing up like this… teasing me… you know exactly what you’re doing.”

You look up at him, biting your lip, feigning innocence. “Is that so?”

A low chuckle escapes him as he leans in, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t play innocent with me,” he says, his tone dark and teasing. “We both know exactly where this is going.”

You barely manage a reply before his lips finally meet yours, the kiss slow and intense, his hands tightening around your waist. The world around you blurs, his touch grounding you in the moment, the heat between you sparking to life.

Sunghoon locates an empty room, its door slightly ajar, offering a tempting sanctuary from the party. With a swift movement, he pushes the door open, pulling you inside, the dimly lit room providing a stark contrast to the vibrant party atmosphere. Sunghoon kickes the door shut behind him the sound echoing through the quiet space. In the dim light, your devil costume seemed to turn him on even more, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.

"Shit baby, you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?" Sunghoon asked, his voice low and husky. You smile, red lips curving devilishly. "Oh, I think I might have some idea,” you turn around, offering him a tantalizing view of your perfect, round ass, barely covered by the skimpy latex bottom.

Sunghoon's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him. He couldn't resist any longer. With a heavy sigh, he grabs your hips, pulling you back against his hardening length. "You’re such a fucking tease," he spoke, lifting the devil's tail attached to your costume, exposing the curve of her bare cheeks. He smacks your ass lightly, the sound echoing in the room, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. "Oh, you like that, huh? I can give you more."

"Yes, please," you moaned, pushing your ass back against him, inviting more contact. "need you so bad hoonie.”

Sunghoon's hands travel up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your latex-clad body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through you. He reached around, unhooking the the top corset piece of your costume, his skilled fingers quickly freeing your perky tits from their confinement. Your nipples were already hard and erect, the cool air causing them to pebble even more.

"You're so beautiful, baby," Sunghoon whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he nuzzled her neck, his canines lightly grazing the sensitive skin. "gonna make you feel so good.” you arch your back, pushing yourself further into his hands, eyes closing in ecstasy as he began to knead and squeeze your sensitive flesh.

Sunghoon's vampire costume added to the erotic atmosphere, his dark desire contrasting your fiery passion. He pushed you forward, guiding you to the bed in the corner of the room, his hands never leaving you body. As you lay down, Sunghoon stands over you, his erection straining against his pants."need to taste you, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with need. "fuck I needed you the moment you walked in, in this sexy ass costume.”

your eyes flutter open, pupils dilated with desire. "Please, hoon, need your mouth so bad." With a hungry growl, Sunghoon lowers himself between your spread legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he gazes at your exposed pussy, already glistening with your arousal, the lips swollen and parted, inviting him in. He leaned down, his tongue flicking out to get a taste, his fangs grazing your sensitive inner thighs.

"Oh, fuck, Sunghoon," you cry out, hands gripping the sheets as he licked and sucked at your clit, his fangs nipping gently at the tender flesh. "Feels so good, Don't stop, please."

Sunghoon's tongue delved deeper, his lips wrapping around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending her over the edge. your body trembled as waves of pleasure coursed through you, whiny moans filling the room. He lapped at your juices, his canines now fully exposed, leaving tiny marks on your inner thighs.

"I want you inside me, Sunghoon," you panted, your body still quivering from your intense orgasm. "need to feel you now." Sunghoon rose, his eyes dark with desire, and quickly shed his vampire costume, revealing his muscular body and throbbing erection. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your parted thighs, his cock hovering at your entrance.

"you want me baby? beg for me" he teased, his voice hoarse with need.

"I want it, Sunghoon," you pleaded, your hands reaching down to guide him into your waiting heat. "want to feel your cock deep inside me."

Without hesitation, Sunghoon thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you as your bodies finally connected. He began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you again and again, skin slapping together in a primal rhythm.

"Oh, fuck Sunghoon, yes!" you cried out, nails digging into his back as you arched your body to meet his thrusts. "so big hoonie, feels so good"

“You’re so tight baby fuck. pussy suck me in so good, like you were made for me.” his movements become more urgent, his cock pounding into you, your bodies slick with sweat and desire. Sunghoon felt his own orgasm building, his balls tightening with impending release “so close baby cmon, milk my cock.” Your pussy clenched around him, your inner walls pulsing and milking his cock as you climaxed again, body shaking uncontrollably.

"Cum for me, baby," you begged, your voice hoarse and raw. With a guttural roar, Sunghoon let go, his body shuddering as he emptied his hot seed deep within you, your combined essence mingling in a passionate climax.

you both lay entwined, hearts racing, as the echoes of pleasure reverberated through the room. Once yours breaths seemed to settle down into a slower rhythm, sunghoon is the first to speak. “You should dress up more often.”

You turn your head to look at him, a chuckle leaving your lips, “is that what you fantasize about?” his fingers draw invisible shapes on the expanse of your tummy, “I mean, did you see yourself? how could I not fantasize about you all dressed for me.”

you let out another laugh, changing your position so you’re straddling him, his hands immediately moving to your waist as he stares i’ll at you with hazy eyes, “who said I dressed up for you?” An amused expression appears on his face, “oh please, we both know you came here planning to get fucked.”

You lean into him, your lips brushing against his ear, “maybe I did… what are you gonna do about it?”

He doesn’t respond, instead he switches the position again, hovering over you, “then I’m gonna make sure to fuck you as many times as I want.”

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ghsface · 1 month ago

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that damn mask - chris sturniolo

Sumary: You see Chris in the Ghostface costume and you can't control what seeing him like that makes you feel.

Warnings: smut +18 orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, semi public sex, unprotected sex (don't do it), oral f receiving, dom!chris x fem!reader, I don't think I've forgotten anything, if I do, let me know.

A/n: I hope I'm not the only one who has a Fantasy with Ghostface, by the way I'm sorry if there are misspelled words or things that don't make sense, my first language is not English

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

The air was charged with energy at the costume party Tara Yummy had thrown for Halloween. Flashing lights and loud music made the floor vibrate as people laughed, drank, and moved around the room filled with creative costumes. But for you, nothing at this party compared to Chris’ presence.

They had both dressed up as Ghostface, the iconic black robes and masks adding a dark and dangerous air to the night. From the moment you saw Chris putting on the mask, something changed inside you. The way the shadow of his face was hidden behind that lifeless expression, the way his body moved with a commanding confidence, made you feel an intense and deep desire that you couldn’t control.

Your mind kept imagining him taking off his mask, leaning over you, his firm and strong hands running over every part of your skin. You felt yourself burning inside, every fiber of your being begging for more, wanting him to take you right there, in the middle of the crowd.

Chris noticed your discomfort almost instantly. He saw it in the way you bit your bottom lip, the way you pressed yourself against the bar, as if you were trying to hide the tension in your body. But he didn't say anything. Instead of confronting you, he decided to make the night more interesting. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Throughout the night, Chris kept teasing you. Every time he passed by, he would lightly brush against you, his fingers sliding down your lower back, his soft, dangerous voice whispering comments that further ignited your desire. He seemed to enjoy the silent torture he was putting you through, knowing that you wanted something he was more than willing to give you... but only when he decided.

You were on the verge of desperation when, in one swift movement, Chris took you by the arm and led you to one of the bathrooms in the house, away from the hustle and bustle of the party. The bathroom was dark, lit only by the dim light that filtered in from under the door, and Chris’s presence filled the small space, overwhelming you.

Without a word, he slowly removed his mask, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze was heavy with intent, dark and dominant. The air grew thicker as he knelt in front of you, his hands firmly placed on your thighs, parting them as he looked at you with that mix of control and desire.

“I want you to remember this when we’re home,” he whispered, his voice low and full of promise.

He didn’t give you time to respond. Without warning, Chris knelt in front of you, his gaze fixed on your intimacy with a mix of hunger and desire. With firm hands, he unbuttoned your pants and slid them down, leaving you vulnerable before him. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice soft and heavy with desire as his eyes roamed over your exposed figure.

When his lips touched your thigh, a rush of anticipation ran through your body. Chris took his time, leaving a trail of kisses along your skin as he moved ever closer. Finally, his mouth found your clit, and when his tongue brushed against it, an uncontrollable moan escaped your lips. “Oh, God, Chris!” you exclaimed, feeling the pleasure begin to build.

He smirked and continued, his tongue sliding precisely over your clit. “You like it, don’t you?” he asked, enjoying your reaction as he played with your sensitivity.

With each stroke of his tongue, the outside world disappeared and there was only you and the fire he lit inside you.

Chris knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you move in time with his rhythm. His fingers, soft but firm, began to caress your entrance, one of them gently entering while his mouth worked on your clit. The combination of his tongue and finger brought you to a place where words faded away, and only moans and sighs of pleasure remained.

“Chris…” you could barely articulate his name, the feel of his movements filling you with an almost overwhelming need. But he stopped suddenly, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of amusement and dominance. “Do you want more?” he asked, his teasing tone making your body tremble.

“Yes, please,” you pleaded, feeling the pressure building inside you. But Chris was relentless. He stopped, relishing in your desperation. “Not until you beg me,” he said, his voice low and laden with defiance.

“Please, Chris, don’t stop…” your voice shook with need, and he smiled, relishing in the power he had over you. When he finally thrust his tongue and fingers back in, he did so with renewed strength, increasing the pace as they brought you to the edge once more.

With each stroke, his fingers delved deeper into you, while his tongue swirled and caressed your clit, driving your pleasure to new heights. “You’re so beautiful when you let yourself go,” he said, his voice echoing in your mind as you sank into pleasure. “I want you to tell me what you feel.”

“Chris, I’m so close…” you moaned, pressure building inside you, but he stopped again, leaving you on the brink of climax. “What are you going to do to make me let you cum?” he asked, relishing in the struggle between pleasure and frustration.

“I need you, please,” you begged, feeling the edge getting closer and closer. Finally, as your desperation became almost unbearable, he complied. “Tell me,” he demanded, looking at you with that mix of control and desire.

“I need you to let me cum,” you pleaded, and he smiled, satisfaction shining in his eyes. With one determined move, Chris increased the speed, his tongue and fingers working together to bring you to that explosion you had been craving.

The combination of his expert touch and his focused attention on your clit brought you to climax. When you finally let go, pleasure erupted within you, flooding you with a wave of sensations so intense it seemed like time stood still. Chris continued his pace, taking you to new heights as convulsions of pleasure coursed through your body.

“That’s it, good job,” he whispered, his deep voice filling the air as the world around you faded away. Finally, when you steadied yourself, Chris leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he looked at you in satisfaction. "You're completely mine," he declared, and you knew that tonight had been just the beginning of what he had in store for you.

“This is just the beginning,” he murmured, standing up and putting his mask back on. “Now, enjoy the party.”

You tried to regain your composure, but your mind was flooded with thoughts of what awaited you when you finally got home.

The ride home was a whirlwind of sensations. Chris kept teasing you, his hands playing with you, leaving you completely exposed to his desires without anyone noticing. By the time you arrived, you could barely stand up from the sheer desire that consumed you.

The door closed behind you, and in the blink of an eye, Chris had you up against the wall. This time, there was no subtlety. His mouth claimed yours with an intensity that left you breathless, and his hands were quick to strip you of your clothes. Every touch was a reminder of who was in charge, of how he had made you beg in the bathroom, and how he was now going to fulfill every one of your fantasies.

“I told you you’d remember,” he growled against your ear, his hands gripping your hips as he let you know exactly what was coming.

And then he did, taking you beyond what you had imagined at that party, making you understand that tonight you weren’t going to forget who was in control.

The air in the room became almost unbearable as Chris finally took you completely. There were no more games, no more teases; just a raw, fierce need that raged between the two of you. His hands, strong and determined, held you firmly, guiding every movement as his lips moved down your neck, taking your breath away with each kiss.

The way he looked at you, even with the mask on at times, ignited something even darker inside you. Each thrust was more intense, deeper, as if both of you were releasing all the tension built up at that party, on that night. The sound of your heavy breathing, your gasps, and the echo of your bodies colliding filled the room, creating a thick, lust-filled atmosphere.

Chris kept reminding you who was in charge, his words full of authority and desire, whispering things in your ear that made you shiver.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this to you,” he murmured, his deep voice, raspy with lust. “Look at me… look at me as I take you the way you want.”

Your eyes met his, and just seeing the satisfaction on his face as he noticed how completely you were given to him made you lose control. Pleasure was building up inside you, a fire that spread throughout your body, threatening to make you explode.

Chris, with the same precision with which he had brought you to the edge in the bathroom, kept you right there, taking you to the edge again and again, but not letting you fall. He made you beg with every movement, with every thrust that seemed to have no end.

“Chris, please…” you gasped, your voice cracking with need.

“Please what?” he replied with a dark smile, not stopping, enjoying watching you squirm under his control.

You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, you just wanted more of him, to feel him deeper, to let yourself be carried away by the pleasure he offered you without reservation.

Finally, when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Chris took you even harder, taking you to the point of no return. You felt your whole body tense, the pleasure enveloping you, making the world around you disappear. There was nothing but Chris, his hands, his body, and the way he made you feel like you were losing control in his arms.

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body shaking as Chris showed no signs of stopping. He was relentless, dominating you completely, and the feeling made you lose yourself in ecstasy. His strong hands on your hips guided you, taking you to a place where only pleasure existed, and his every move pushed you beyond what you thought possible.

Chris was completely in control, his heavy breathing mixing with you as he kept you right on the edge, not letting you fall completely. His words, whispered in a low tone filled with desire, made your body respond with each passing second.

“You're mine,” he grew, his husky voice as his eyes never left yours.

It was a statement, not a question. And you, lost in the intensity of it all, could do nothing but nod, letting yourself go completely. His hands roamed your body with that same precision, seeking out every spot that made you shudder, and when he finally let you fall over the edge, you did so with a gasp, your body shaking beneath his as the pleasure consumed you.

Chris, feeling you crumble, gave you no rest. He picked up the pace, taking you further, making sure you remembered every second, that you were completely lost in him.

When he finally reached his own climax, it was with a low growl, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside you, taking you with him in an explosion of sensations that left you breathless. You both stood there, breathing heavily, the room filled with the echo of what had just happened.

Slowly, Chris slid to the side, but he didn't pull away completely. His hands were still on your skin, caressing gently as you both tried to catch your breath.

“I told you I would make it unforgettable,” he finally murmured, his voice soft, but still full of that authority that had made you lose control all night.

You, still trembling, couldn't help but smile slightly. Chris had given you exactly what you wanted… and more.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ✮

Tags... @strnlslut @matt-sturnioloo @cayleeuhithinknott @chrissexsuall @realqueenofpepsi @bsturnzmtt @slutforsturniolo @sophsturns @demisthings05 @inssanely @stvrnzwrld @kamskami @lovingregulusblack <3

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julietsf1 · 1 month ago

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Love at first fright (🎃) - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: You don’t know what is scarier, the haunted house where you are interviewing Franco or the way your heart speeds up around him.

Content: cute, journalist!reader

AN: An early halloween treat 🤍 If you guys have cool costume ideas you’re gonna do lmk! have a lovely day sweeties

_____________________________

I’ve interviewed a lot of athletes over the years—serious, stoic, some even downright boring—but Franco Colapinto? He’s my favorite by far. The guy is a natural on camera, always quick-witted, always charming. And, okay, I’d be lying if I said his smile didn’t make it easier to look forward to these interviews. He’s cute, in that effortless way that pulls you in before you even realize it.

Which is why, when I pitched the idea of interviewing him in a haunted house for Halloween, I wasn’t surprised when he immediately said yes. Franco loves goofing around almost as much as he loves racing.

“So, Franco,” I start, grinning as I hold up my mic, “if you weren’t a racing driver, what would you be doing for Halloween?”

We’re standing at the entrance of the haunted house, the camera crew buzzing around us, adjusting their lights and equipment. Franco’s green eyes flicker with amusement as he shoots a glance at the haunted house looming behind us.

“I think I’d watch a scary movie,” he says, that mischievous grin of his spreading across his face. “Or maybe I’d just go scare Lando during one of his livestreams. Seems like a good use of my time.”

I laugh, already caught up in his energy. This is why I love interviewing him—there’s never a dull moment. “Honestly, I’d pay to see that. But tonight, it’s all about you. Ready to face your fears?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Fears? Me? Please.”

I roll my eyes, but it’s hard not to smile when he’s like this—so playful, so at ease. “We’ll see about that. Let’s get going.”

We step inside, and the door creaks ominously behind us. The camera crew follows, their lights casting long, eerie shadows along the corridor. Fake cobwebs hang from the ceiling, and the sound of distant screams echoes through the halls.

“Spooky,” Franco says, looking around with an approving nod. “Nice setup. You pick this place yourself?”

“Of course,” I reply, glancing around. “Only the best for you.”

He grins, nudging me lightly with his elbow. “So much effort. I knew I am your favorite.”

I shoot him a mock glare, even though my heart skips a little at the comment. “You wish, Colapinto.”

“Oh, I don’t need to wish,” he quips back, his tone teasing. “I can tell.”

I shake my head, trying to focus on the interview. “Okay, back to business. What’s your biggest weakness—on the track or in a haunted house?”

Franco laughs, the sound echoing in the dimly lit hallway. “Weakness? You’re really trying to get something out of me, aren’t you?”

“It’s my job,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, give me something.”

He shrugs, playing along. “Alright, fine. My biggest weakness? Probably pizza. Or maybe rom-coms.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised but laughing. “I didn’t take you for the romantic type.”

“Hey, there’s more to me than racing and being good looking,” he says, his grin widening. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Clearly,” I mutter, trying to keep my cool as we walk further into the haunted house. It’s starting to get darker, the lights dimming as the creepy sound effects grow louder. I was starting to question why I chose a haunted house as the perfect location.

We pass through a corridor with skeletons lining the walls, and Franco glances over at me, his eyes gleaming. “You scared yet?”

“Not a chance,” I say, though my heart is starting to race just a little. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Good to know,” he replies, his voice low and teasing. “Just in case, I’m here to protect you, you know.”

I shoot him a sidelong glance, but before I can reply, something rustles in the darkness ahead. I jump a little, and Franco notices, of course.

“Whoa, did you just flinch?” he teases, stepping closer. “I thought you said you weren’t scared.”

“It’s nothing, just my foot itched a little,” I say quickly, brushing it off. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, his grin not faltering. “Don’t worry, I’ll be your bodyguard tonight.”

We keep walking, the camera crew following close behind, but it’s getting harder to focus on the interview with all the random noises and the way Franco keeps inching closer every time something creaks.

“So,” I say, trying to regain control of the situation, “what’s the scariest thing you’ve ever faced in your racing career?”

Franco tilts his head, pretending to think for a moment. “Probably that one time I missed a pit stop and ended up in the wrong garage. I swear, the mechanics looked ready to chase me down.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “That’s not scary. That’s just embarrassing.”

“Hey, for a second, I thought I was about to get a wheel thrown at my head,” he jokes. “That’s plenty scary.”

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang from somewhere behind us, and I instinctively grab Franco’s arm. He chuckles, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“You sure you’re not scared?” he asks, his voice soft but teasing. “Because it kinda seems like you are.”

I shoot him a look, trying to play it cool even though my heart is pounding. “I’m just making sure you’re not the one freaking out.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly unconvinced. “You’re a terrible liar, by the way.”

We turn another corner, and I realize the camera crew is no longer with us. I glance around, confused. “Wait… where did they go?”

Franco looks back over his shoulder, frowning. “They were just here. Maybe we lost them in one of the turns.”

“Well, that’s great,” I mutter, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “What do we do now?”

Franco shrugs, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to find them. You okay with being alone with me in a haunted house?”

I snort, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in my stomach. “Please, Colapinto. You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are.”

He steps closer, his grin widening. “Oh, I can make you pretty nervous I think.”

Before I can respond, there’s another loud crash, and something jumps out from the shadows. I scream before I can stop myself, my hand flying to Franco’s arm. He pulls me in closer, his other hand protectively resting on my waist as we both stare at the fake ghost that had startled me.

“Whoa, okay,” Franco says, his voice full of amusement. “I didn’t realize I had to start saving you this early.”

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I try to laugh it off. “I wasn’t scared,” I insist, even though I’m still gripping his arm. “It was just—unexpected.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly not buying it. “If you wanted to end up in my arms, you could’ve just asked.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t let go of his arm. “You wish, Colapinto.”

He chuckles softly, his hand still resting on my waist as we stand there for a moment. “Hey, no complaints here. I’m enjoying this hero role.”

We walk a bit further, Franco staying close, and the tension between us feels slightly different from its usual playfulness. Something a bit more loaded.

“Alright,” I say, trying to keep things professional even though I can feel my heart racing. “Let’s find that camera crew before they think we’ve disappeared.”

Franco grins, clearly in no rush. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll turn up. But hey, at least this gives us some alone time.”

I glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you plan to do with this alone time?”

He smirks, leaning in slightly. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

We’ve been walking through this maze of dark hallways and creaking floors for what feels like ages. The air between Franco and me is thick with the usual playful teasing, but there’s something warmer underneath tonight. Something I’m not entirely sure either of us expected.

“So,” Franco says as we reach another eerie corner of the haunted house, “left or right, fearless leader?”

I glance between the two paths, both equally dark and ominous. “Left,” I say with a shrug, though my focus is more on the way Franco’s hand keeps brushing against mine as we stand there.

Without a word, he slips his fingers through mine, giving my hand a light squeeze as we take the left path. The gesture catches me off guard for a second, but it feels natural. Warm.

“You good?” Franco’s voice is soft, his teasing tone still there, but his concern is genuine.

I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah, I’m just… trying not to trip over a fake skeleton or something.”

He chuckles, and I feel his thumb lightly brush against the back of my hand, his touch gentle. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I say, feeling a little braver now with him beside me.

We keep moving, our footsteps the only sound echoing through the narrow hallway. The haunted house is definitely doing its job—the creepy sound effects, the flickering lights, and the occasional distant scream have me on edge. But with Franco holding my hand, it’s easier to focus on him rather than the eeriness around us.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes behind us, and I jump, gripping his hand tighter. Franco, always quick with a joke, leans in slightly.

“You know,” he says, his voice low, “if you’re looking for an excuse to stay close, you don’t really need one.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to hide the way my heart skips. “Oh? Is that your best line?”

He grins, tugging me a little closer. “No, but it’s working, isn’t it?”

I glance up at him, half-amused, half-speechless at his boldness. “You’ve got no shame, do you?”

“None,” he replies, completely unfazed. “I figured you would’ve noticed that by now.”

We round another corner, and the sound of scraping metal rings out from ahead, louder this time. It’s getting harder to keep my cool, and Franco knows it. His hand tightens around mine, and before I can stop myself, I move closer to him again.

“You’re not as fearless as you like to pretend, huh?” Franco teases, though his voice has softened slightly, the flirty edge still there but mixed with something gentler.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I shoot back, trying to sound convincing, even though my heart’s racing a little too fast.

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly unconvinced. “You’re doing great.”

We walk a few more steps, and then another noise—a low, guttural growl—sounds from behind. I instinctively pull myself closer to Franco, and this time, he doesn’t hold back. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me securely against him.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice, “I get it. You need me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” I mutter, though I make no move to step away from him.

Franco grins down at me, his green eyes gleaming. “Too late.”

We walk like that for a bit, Franco’s arm around me, the haunted house feeling a little less overwhelming now that we’re practically glued together. His fingers brush against my side, just enough to send sparks up my spine.

“You know,” Franco says after a moment, his voice lighter, “you’re cute when you’re scared.”

I snort, shaking my head. “I’m not scared. I’m… strategically cautious.”

“Is that what you call it?” He raises an eyebrow, the teasing back in full force. “Because it looks like you’re holding on pretty tight.”

I glance down, realizing that I am, in fact, gripping his arm for dear life. “Shut up.”

He laughs softly, the sound warm and low, and I can feel his gaze on me as we continue walking. The haunted house seems quieter now, the eerie sounds fading into the background.

Then, out of nowhere, we turn another corner, and there’s the camera crew. Setting up for the next shot like nothing happened, completely unaware that we’d been wandering around alone for what felt like forever.

“Well,” Franco says, not letting go of my hand just yet, “looks like we’ve been found.”

I laugh, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Good. Now we can finish this interview properly.”

But Franco doesn’t move. Instead, he steps a little closer, his hand still holding mine, his gaze steady and a little more serious than usual. “You know,” he says softly, “I wouldn’t have minded if we got lost for a little longer.”

I meet his gaze, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again. “Oh, really?”

He grins, that familiar playful spark returning to his eyes. “Yeah. I was starting to like having you all to myself.”

I’m about to respond with something witty, but before I can, Franco leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. It’s quick, gentle, but it sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the haunted house or Halloween.

He pulls back, grinning down at me, clearly pleased with himself. “You good now?”

I nod, feeling my cheeks heat up as I try to regain some semblance of composure. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Franco squeezes my hand one last time before letting go, stepping back just as the camera crew calls us over. But as we walk toward them, I can’t help but let out a deep breath that I didn’t know I was holding. Butterflies having a rave in my stomach.

“You know,” Franco says with a grin as we rejoin the crew, “if you ever want to do another haunted house interview… I’m in.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m sensing some ulterior motives here, Colapinto.”

“Perhaps,” he replies with a wink, his grin wide and full of promise.

#f1 x reader #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #f1 fanfic

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