#mickey altieri x reader

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️ #mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️

[sadesluvr]

I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about Stu/Ghostface coming face to face with a horror fanatic female!reader character and she finds his whole Ghostface thing incredibly sexy ^^’

'Some Kind of Groupie' - Ghostface x Reader

A/N: YAY MY FIRST GHOSTFACE / Scream ASK! TYSM Anon, I’m going to be updating my header to say who I write for, but take this as a sign to ask for Scream related content :) 

I didn’t specify which Ghostface, so fill in the blanks…(Outside of one line, they’re silent in this anyway, which I think is hot) Also, Reader is implied to be a little unhinged but we love her. Enjoy!

Ghosts. Killers. Blood. Guts. 

Gore. 

You loved it. All of it.

Which was why you were sat calmly on your bed, a devilish look in your eye and a smirk on your face as you stared up at the figure in front of you. Sheathed in black with an unmistakable white mask and contorted features was the Ghostface, the fiend’s signature knife pointed out at you and aimed towards your exposed neck.

Others would tremble and beg for their life, but not you.

“I’ve heard all about you…” you said seductively. “You’re the killer who’s sweeping our town. You’ve killed a lot of people…”

The figure cocked their head. 

“I don’t blame you…” you said, playing with the strap of your nightie, your movements inviting by dragging the fabric down your bare skin. “…They probably deserved it,” 

The figure was likely going to kill you; but the sheer thought of being choked under their strong grip or motion of gloved hands smearing bloody remnants across your eager lips as you were ravished to death was enough to send a tingle down your spine and a heat straight to your pussy.

The masked individual was now looming over you, and you instinctively stopped touching your clothes. Using the blade of its knife, it hooked under the strip of fabric, slowly beginning to continue pulling it down for you, the tip of the blade grazing your skin ever so slightly.

Your heart practically leapt out of your chest. You wondered how long you’d been stalked; if they’d seen you fiddle with knives (for just a bit too long) when you were out at dinner with your friends, or how you were lined up front and centre at every new Craven or Carpenter release. Better yet, if they’d seen the way you’d touch yourself when you popped in a horror movie into the VCR, shoving your vibrator deeper into your pussy as the killer chased down the buxom blonde, her clothes ripping off in her panicked flurry. There was always something about how the victim would be cornered, and the killer; either an endearing psychopath or a deformed sleaze, would grab and pull at the body, walking that oh-so fine line between arousal and murder.

Nothing but your panties remained. The material didn’t last long around your legs, as the killer ran its gloved fingers up your thighs, stopping as it reached in between, rubbing the outside of your lips through the fabric. Its movements were greedy yet controlled, the leather creating a pleasurable pressure on your desperate cunt as the other hand ripped the sides of your underwear. You gasped at the sudden friction of pure leather on your bare skin, gasping as the figure motioned their fingers in circles around your clit, occasionally slipping into your folds.

There was no way you didn’t look like a complete slut. 

Ghostface’s movements began to increase, yet you noticed that the grip it had on its knife remained. It only made you hotter.

“Fuck,” you whimpered. “I-I’m gonna —”

Tsk.Tsk. So soon. What was the point in coming here if it wasn’t to take what was wanted?

The figure withdrew their hands, and your own instinctively went between your legs, hoping to finish yourself off with your fingers - an attempt that utterly failed as the knife blocked your path, the blade once again coming into dangerously close contact with your fingertips. In a swift motion and brutal display of strength, Ghostface grabbed your thighs and pulled your torso towards the edge of your bed, legs dangling off the edge to either side of the figure. Large hands spread your legs apart before releasing its cock, wasting no time in lining it up with your entrance. One hand remained firm on your hips whilst the other snaked up your body, making sure to grope your breasts before planting its grip around your neck.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” 

That was all you heard before you were thrust into, pussy stretched apart as the figure drew its hips in and out of you. Your bed creaked as your mouth remained agape, wanting to make a noise also but finding it to be utterly impossible to do so as the masked figure squeezed at your throat, hips slapping against your own. Its robes flapped around with every movement, tickling your bare skin as the threads of the fabric danced along your thighs, the gentle indirect activity a contrast to the bruising grip on your hips as the killer focused on pounding you.

No inch of you was left unexplored, reaching the point of overstimulation as the leather friction returned to your cunt, rubbing your clit as its cock continued to thrust into you, your juices beginning to leak down its throbbing vein. Ghostface thrusted deeper into you, large hands squeezing tighter at your neck to the point you may have passed out completely if it weren’t for the fact that you’d decided to lock your legs around its waist, drawing him deeper.

You wanted a killer’s hot cum; each and every drop. How funny would it be if you got knocked up? Not only because the father was an enigmatic, psychopathic murderer, but because you didn’t know who it was. It could’ve been anyone; perhaps the blonde or brunette you’d seen by the fountain, or the Tarantino fan in your friends’ film class, or the local music video director…Even an Econ student.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you reached orgasm, a Pandora’s Box of possibilities swirling around your head. The sensation was unimaginable, and you momentarily saw white as you came, juice gushing all over the masked figure’s cock as you stared around your room in a daze, smiling at all the horror-related posters on the wall. 

Fiction had become reality.

#florence writes!! #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #mickey altieri x reader #roman bridger x reader #ethan landry x reader #slasher x reader #slasher smut

[cowboy-lover69]

Ghostface's accidentally hurting you during their murders headcanons

(1587 words)

Billy Loomis

--- however, you ended up getting hurt if he was there when it happened, he would panic whether he was in costume or not. It’s a mix of hurting you and fears if hesitates to attack you it might make him look suspicious. 

--- After whatever happened he would urge you to leave town or not go to Stu’s party since he uses the excuse it is a “breeding ground for murder” but since he’s going to the party you called him out for being a hypocrite. 

--- At some point, he runs out of excuses and either drops it or confesses to being Ghostface to you. If he tells you the Ghostface before you can freak out, he tells you his whole story, but it most likely does not sway, you are not really. Depending on how close you were to him, you might have even agreed not to tell anyone or even help. As much as I would like to think that you wouldn't report him to the police you probably would, but you don’t really have any evidence.

Stu Matcher

--- Stu is very protective of you before anything actually happens, but when something does happen however it does, he is very guilty. When you get injured if he’s the one who does it he tries his best to retreat. If he is not, he is the first to you if he's there when it happens.

--- After you are injured, he might not even throw the party or at least he would keep it smaller so you would not know about it, so you don’t come since he and Billy have plans with Sidney that night.

--- Billy would probably not be happy that he was reconsidering their plans because of you. Stu might even back out if he were to back out, he would probably be killed so he probably does not do that. Stu most likely still throws the party, just turns on Billy last minute, or tries to minimize the fallout of the murders for your sake.

Mickey Altieri

--- It was never Mickey's intention to care for you so much no less care when he hurts you by accident during his murders. He starts to fear that his feelings for you will get in the way of his “efficiency” so he tries to find a way to get you out of the way without having to hurt you again. 

--- he decides to take the risk and gets closer to you before continuing the murders, of course, Ms. Loomis is not thrilled but he has a plan, it requires him to be closer to you which he doesn't mind at all since he likes you.

--- At some point, you guys start dating for a while and he takes this opportunity to execute his plan. He confesses to being Ghostface and asks you to join him. Depending on your attraction to murder it might have worked or not.

--- If you do agree you two become partners in crime for the remaining murders and you guys might have even succeeded with the murder plot. Of course, Ms. Loomis would have still probably taken advantage of Mickey, but since you were there, you might have killed Ms. Loomis before that became a problem.

Roman Bridger

--- As soon as you got hurt Roman panicked and started trying to find you a way out of town. Of course, it was not too hard to do that at least for him. 

--- Roman offered to whisk you away on vacation he said that staying would not be safe and a vacation is always nice.

--- Of course, you agreed since you trusted Roman. Of course, later you found out he was Ghostface which probably destroyed your trust in anyone for a while. Therapy will be needed! 

(Sorry I didn't have any ideas for roman)

Jill Roberts

--- When Jill accidentally hurt you during the murders, she had to face the fact that she had to kill you or deal with you in some other way. She was trying to avoid the thought that it was not something she wanted to think about. Nevertheless, she decided to just keep you out of the way, so you won’t be an issue.

--- After the stab marathon was canceled and they go to the Kirby house for the after-party she tries to make sure you won’t know that the after-party is going on since she doesn't want you to be a problem and make it harder for her to execute her plans.

--- you end up showing up since Robbie live streams while he's there and you recognize the outside of the house. You show up a little after Jill kills Charlie. You see Robbie's corpse so you run inside to find Jill and Sidney. 

--- Jill is a very good manipulator and you guys are really close, so she deters you from calling the cops. She tells you to go home instead of staying to aid in her story. Jill loves you but does not trust you to corporate her story, since of how carefully she crafted the timeline to work in her favor and she also didn’t want you getting cold feet last minute. 

--- When the cops ask later you tell them you were not there that night, and they believe you but soon after it’s all for nothing since Jill ends up being caught in the end.

Charlie Walker

--- you're the first person to ever acknowledge him romantically, so when you end up getting yourself hurt during his and Jill's little murder spree he feels guilty.

--- He starts being very clingy I mean more than usual since he wants to keep you safe, he finds that he can keep you safe if as long as he's not in the Ghostface costume he can keep you close, and safe.

--- He still helps Jill but insists that you are not invited to the after-party. First of all, part of the plan was to get romantic with Kibry so that when he is tied to the chair later she will want to help him. 

--- you find out about the after party but just a little late. You show up just as the police do and they find Charlie dead and Jill the only survivor. Later you find out from the news and Sidney that Charlie and Jill were the killers.

Amber Freeman

--- It was never Amber's intention to get you involved, she actually wanted you as far away as possible but it was not working out that way since you ended up in the crossfire.

--- At some point, she realized she had to do something with you, but she couldn't kill you. She didn’t want to, so she made a distraction.

--- she couldn't have you showing up to the party so she slashed the tires on your car and bike so you couldn't leave. She understood after she and Richie finished the job she would never be able to see you again, but she thought that was better for you and her own good.

--- you found yourself walking to the party, but it took a little while and you ended up showing out around the time the police did and you found out what happened with Amber and Richie, and it all made sense.

Ethan Landry

--- Ethan did not like the emotional trouble he found himself in when it came to you. He loved you but he also felt a loyalty to his family, to his father. When you had accidentally gotten yourself hurt in the apartment scuffle, he could not forgive himself but for now, in fear, his father would kill him like his mother, so he kept his mouth shut. 

--- In an effort to try to keep you safe he tried to keep you as far away from the main group as possible since Tara and Sam specifically Sam was their main target it was best if you avoided the group but of course, you didn’t listen since you didn’t know why he was asking you too you thought he was jealous.

--- When he, his father, and his sister revealed themselves at the theater he regretted it almost as soon as he did it, he hated the pain in your eyes. Later on in the scuffle, he turned on his father and sister in an effort to make up for what he’s done. Whether it worked or not is up to how eager you are to forgive a killer because he was pressured into it. 

Quinn Bailey

--- Quinn would get very quickly attached to you in a way that differs from all the others she slept with. She cared for you and wanted to keep you safe from her life as a Ghostface. She didn’t want to have to hurt you, but she ended up doing just that and she knew she had to take greater measures.

--- she would find reasons to keep you far away from her till she and her family were done with all the Ghostface things of course it didn’t keep you away for long. So, she faked her death; you can’t be around her if she was not “alive”.

--- Since Quinn’s “death” you grew closer to Sam, Tara, Chad, and Mindy. It was good for you to have friends while you are grieving, but not so good for Quinn's conscience. You were not allowed into the theater for the Ghostface trap. So, you had to find out secondhand what became of Quinn which was not great for you.

masterlist

(Requests open)

#quinn bailey x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu matcher x reader #mickey altieri x reader #jill roberts x reader #roman bridger x reader #amber freeman x reader #charlie walker x reader #ethan landry x reader #scream fanfic

[liliesdiary]

Please don't kill me, Mr Ghostface!

Ghostface x Doll

cw: cnc, knife play, doll, blood play, vile, choking, brutal sex, dubcon, dacryphilia, fear kink, threats of death, kidnapping, opposite end of the knife in your cunt

You can imagine any male ghostface character for this daydream <3 (making a part two soon, comment if you wanna be tagged)

word count: 600+

Daydreaming about ghostface holding you down in a dark alley as he skull fucks you, not letting you catch your breath or fight back. He tied a pink ribbon around your pretty throat, strangling you as he slams your head into the wall, making you whimper and cry as he continues to fuck your throat with a knife to your collarbone.

You whimper as the masked man presses the blade down on your collarbone, making you bleed. “Bleed for me, my little plaything.”

You cry as he continues to press the blade along your collarbone, staining your pink dress. His thrusts were brutal as he fucked your throat, you tried to stay still like a pretty doll but you couldn't help but cry and squirm. You wanted to be his perfect little plaything. You knew he was a vile man yet you were on your knees letting this stranger violate your body in a dark alleyway.

“Good girl.” he says as he looks at the blood, his dick twitched at the sight of his pretty doll bleeding and crying for him. He was a sick man but you were sicker.

He then came down your throat, his grip tightening around your skull, making sure you swallow his cum. You let out a pathetic cry, making him chuckle and tighten his grip on your skull even more. He finally lets go of your skull, you gasp and cry as you collapse onto the ground, covered in your own blood.

He smiles at your pathetic body, “I’m taking you home with me doll.” He then grabs your ass roughly and bends you over. He looks at your pink lace panties and cuts them off with his blade stained with your blood.

“Please, don't kill me mr ghostface!” You cry out.

He lets out a deep chuckle that sends shivers down your spine, “if you're not a good little doll for me I might have to kill you. So be a good little doll for me and behave, I want to play with you for a bit longer.”

You let out a whimper as he starts to use the opposite end of the blade to tease your wet hole. You squirmed and gasp. He lets out a small chuckle and continues despite your obvious discomfort and fear of the blade cutting you down there.

The fact that ghostface, the serial killer that has killed and mutilated your classmates is bending you over and fucking you with his knife makes you feel so nasty yet you couldn't help but be so fucking wet. You moan and bounce on the opposite end of the blade that has ended so many lives and he only gets more turned on by the sight.

The scene that unfolds in front of him turns him on even more, “Fuck, you're so needy baby doll. I can't take it anymore.” He takes the knife away from you and replaces his hard cock there instead. You moan and whimper as he roughly jams in it, not wasting any time and pounding your wet pussy. He holds the knife to your throat again and moans vile things to you.

“Such a good fucking doll for me. You're getting fucked by a fucking serial killer and your dripping all over my cock.”

His words made your cunt throb and your eyes fill with tears, you wanted to tell him to stop but you were just lying to yourself. He slapped your face and continued to fuck your delicate body.

The sounds of his dick penetrating your wet cunt filled the dark alleyway. Your legs started to shake as he pounded into you and strangled you with that pretty pink ribbon around your throat.

“I'm gonna take you home and make you my personal sex doll.”

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #scream smut #scream iv #scream 2 #scream fanfic #scream #scream 6 #scream x reader #scream vi #dark! ethan landry #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #yandere mickey altieri #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher fanfiction #knifeplay #knife k!nk #knife kink #tw knife #charlie walker #charlie walker fanfic #roman bridger #roman bridger fanfic

[gabbylovesreading]

Boyfriend; yeah my girlfriend loves watching scream

Them: You know you ain't gettin' your bitch back

This one is for my bestie @itsaaliyah2

Not my picture gotta them on Pinterest credit to the owner ❤️

#scream #scream 6 #scream 1996 #scream 2 #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #ethan landry #stu matcher x reader #stu macher #matthew lillard x reader #matthew lillard #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #skeet ulrich x reader #skeet ulrich #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #timothy olyphant #timothy olyphant x reader #scream vi #ghostface

[floralcyanidee]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

! please remember, in order to participate in kinktober, you must be 18+ as there will be nsfw material involved. anyone not following these rules will be blocked!

✧ hello! it's that time of year again (: I did my first kinktober last year, and it was a success (and still is), except I never fully finished it ): I'm hoping this year will be different because I'm starting as early as feasibly possible. if you think you've seen this post already from another account, you're correct. that's my account, except it is currently shadowbanned. so, I made this new account and decided to redo this masterpost as I'll probably be posting kinktober here. also, the prompt list has been edited as 28.08.2023.

✧ here is the taglist form if you'd like to be tagged in my kinktober works! click meee!♥

✧ prompt list is below!

day one. cockwarming with: Cillian Murphy

day two. nipple play with: Jonathan Crane

day three. blood play with: Charlie Walker

day four. orgasm control with: Stu Macher

day five. praise kink with: Mickey Altieri

day six. degradation with: Jonathan Crane

day seven. bondage with: Billy Loomis

day eight. edging with: Ethan Landry

day nine. breeding kink with: Roman Bridger

day ten. mutual masturbation with: Austin Butler

day eleven. throat fucking with: Ethan Landry

day twelve. threesome with: Stu Macher/Billy Loomis

day thirteen. knife kink or gun kink with: Gun Kink/ Tommy Shelby

day fourteen. sex toys with: Cillian Murphy

day fifteen. hate sex with: Jonathan Crane

day sixteen. thigh riding with: Richie Kirsch

day seventeen. sex tape with: Roman Bridger

day eighteen. squirting with: Neil Lewis

day nineteen. public play with: Jackson Rippner

day twenty. voyeurism with: Ethan Landry

day twenty-one. corruption kink with: Jonathan Crane

day twenty-two. daddy kink with: Cillian Murphy

day twenty-three. spanking with: Austin!Elvis

day twenty-four. shower sex with: Mickey Altieri

day twenty-five. roleplay with: Austin Butler

day twenty-six. face sitting with: Raymond Leon

day twenty-seven. dom/sub with: Ethan Landry

day twenty-eight. drunk sex or high sex with: High Sex/Stu Macher

day twenty-nine. phone sex with: Ethan Landry

day thirty. anal sex with: Jackson Rippner

day thirty-one. mommy kink with: Jonathan Crane

#cillian murphy #jonathan crane #ethan landry #austin butler #austin!elvis #jackson rippner #tommy shelby #billy loomis #stu macher #ghostface #poly!ghostface #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #ethan landry x reader #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #jackson rippner x reader #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #roman bridger #roman bridger x reader #richie kirsch #richie kirsch x reader #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker #raymond leon #neil lewis #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #floralcyanide kinktober

[vmbrq]

how do u think some of the scream guys react to a more bimbo esque s/o….. cus i already KNOWWWW some of them *cough cough* charlie *cough cough* WOULD FW IT, LIKE IDKK AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON ETHAN ?? obsessed loser boy x oblivious girly bimbo ??? SOOOO 🤭🤭 and i just know they’re silly little perverts too so they would get all squirmy just from her accidentally flashing them as she bends down to pick up like a flower out of the grass or smth😭😭 IDK I JUST THINK ITS CUTEEE 🤭

(also omg idk if u do anons or anything but like …… if u do …. can i be 🩷 PLEASEEEE if not thats okay😁☝️ ANYWAYS OKAY BYEEE)

yes, i do anons !! so you certainly can <3

AND IT IS CUTE :( ethan would be STRESSED LMAOO practically glued to your side or standing behind you to make sure you don't accidentally flash anyone. he would also be one of the first to volunteer to fix the straps on your sandals or tie your sneakers for the same reason. he also takes advantage of any opportunity to tutor you, even if most of your sessions end up with you in his lap with your lips on his. he's such a sucker for you, too, so weak to the way you whine his name or gaze up at him, all sweet and adoring, and ask him for a kiss. he could be holding a cardboard box he can barely see over, and he'll still be awkwardly angling his body and bending forward to give you a quick peck on the lips.

charlie would be so fond of just observing you, whether it's admiring your side profile while you touch up your makeup or watching how your animated expressions reflect your thoughts as you try to work through homework on your own. plus, he knows that half the time, you have zero clue what he's talking about when he rambles on about the specifics of media, but he adores the effort you put into trying to understand. and even if you've given up on trying, you still sit there with a smile and give him your full attention, bc you just like hearing him talk.

both of them would be obsessed with the way you have no concept of personal space when it comes to them, your brain consisting of nothing but tv static as you get right in their face or press up close to them. you're shameless with your affection, and you never think twice about how out-of-place they appear at your side.

mickey and billy would adore how easy you are to mold into their perfect, unwitting accomplice, taking all of their explanations in stride and rarely ever questioning them. there's a certain freedom that your presence allows, since they know that you don't even blink or think twice about the thin layers of blood embedded beneath their fingernails or that strange scent that clings to their clothes when they kiss or hold you. oh, they accidentally cut themselves? oh, that smell is just the gasoline from their car? okay. after all, all you need is to trust them and let them do the thinking. all you have to do is sit on their laps and look pretty for them.

mentions of smut under the cut ; minors dni

all of the sex jokes when they're around end up flying right over your head. you're so naive, so sweet, so easy to manipulate until you're bouncing on their cock and creaming a pretty, white ring at the base because it's "the best way to get rid of your stomachache." they stick out like a sore thumb against the decor of your room, but sometimes, when you've got their head resting on your chest with your fingers combing idly through their hair, or when they're sprawled on your bed lying about not peeking through their fingers while you lotion up your bare body and reflexively reach for the shirt they lent you three weeks ago, they feel as though they fit right in.

#billy loomis smut #billy loomis x reader #charlie walker x you #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #billy loomis x y/n #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #mickey altieri x reader

[sunkendreams]

twenty minutes.

➾ pairing ; mickey altieri x fem!reader.

in which mickey sneaks into your dorm room and things become more heated than usual.

format: drabble — not requested.

word count: 2.5K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), risk of getting caught, slight corruption kink, fingering (f!receiving), making out, biting, dry humping, dirty talk, mild degradation (use of slut), choking, obsessive behavior from Mickey, begging, teasing, finger sucking, very slight edging, ambiguous ending

author’s note: I wrote this because I love Mickey and I want to write a part 2 with phone sex 💀 also, first time ever writing for him, so hopefully it’s good and people enjoy it! I am also working on requests, but I’m also on-call for work, so I get pretty busy. Hoping to have a lot of stuff finished & posted next week! thank you all for your love & support !!! :)

Mickey Altieri reminded you of a cat — elusive, cunning, and prone to climbing trees without much of a hindrance. The thick, sturdy oak that hovered by your window in the Delta Zeta House provided a place for your boyfriend to scuttle about, thumping a palm against the glass pane of your window.

He had a look in his eyes when you caught sight of him — devious and full of desire, glazed over with a sheen of mischief. It’s coupled with that pearlescent grin as you clamor toward your window, swiftly unlatching it as you glance over your shoulder. Your roommate is in the shower, a worthwhile time for him to come crawling in.

His timing is always impeccable.

This nightly ritual of him sneaking into your room is always accompanied with a giddiness and thrill. His dark tresses are disheveled, sporting a dark sweater that clings to his musculature. He climbs through with a silent grace, reaching for you before you can open your mouth.

“I’m doing all of the work here,” Mickey smirks, pressing a string of kisses along your jaw. “When are you going to climb through my window?” He questioned, tone playful as could be as his hands roughly pressed into your hips.

You and Mickey were still in this honeymoon stage of your relationship, where everything was glowing and bright, with sparks always flying in every direction. He oozes charm and charisma with every breath, and it never fails to pull you right in. He was becoming your addiction — your vice.

Sandalwood and bergamot cling to him as he sighs, hunching in over you as his mouth nips at your jugular. It elicits a low, simpering whine from you, serving as encouragement as Mickey turns that playful nip into a brief, rough bite. You taste saccharine underneath his tongue.

“I can’t climb a tree,” You protest, fingers curling into the front of his woolen sweater. “You have twenty minutes.” You huff, knowing that your roommate won’t be in the shower forever. It’s always the same heated routine — kissing until your lips are swollen, his hands grabbing your breasts, he leaves a hickey, and then he disappears.

Mickey groans into your sweet flesh, teeth idly grazing over your neck. “I want more than twenty minutes,” He uttered, peering down at your choice of wardrobe. It’s a ditzy nightgown that reminds him of summertime, speckled in hundreds of little flowers. He pinches the fabric between his fingers. “It’s not enough.”

“Kiss me, Mickey.” You mumble, a soft gasp tearing past your parted lips when he delivered a rather passionate kiss, open-mouthed with a desperate bout of tongue. He tugs at your nightgown, calloused fingertips tracing across the bare flesh of your thigh.

He was a dutiful boyfriend — eccentric and charming, a natural flirt with an obscene amount of wit. You adored that about him, but above all, you loved how much he spoke about you to other people. Mickey had this thing about staking his claim, and you weren’t about to tell him otherwise.

You can’t see it now, but there is a darkness festering inside of him. It’s always just at the forefront of his lascivious gaze, as if it might lash out and strike you. Mickey’s obsession with you transcended any normalcy, perceived as erratic and strange, but thankfully, you are none the wiser to his impulsive tendencies.

He loves your oblivious nature — it’s easier to control you that way.

Goosebumps form along the column of your spine, prickling along your body as his fingers slip underneath your nightgown, trailing along the waistband of your panties. He’s always teased you, but something feels different this time — it’s electrifying and exhilarating as he pets at your soft skin.

As your lips part, you stare at him incredulously, attempting to decipher his next move. “We can’t,” You protest, though it’s weak and lacking any sincerity. Your roommate, whilst prone to taking endless showers, won’t stay put forever. “Mickey.” You whisper.

“Why not?” He purred, teeth nicking your neck, which caused you to let out a soft gasp. Mickey’s lips soothed the bite with passionate kisses, tongue swirling over the newly-formed mark. “You going to stop me?” His lips curl into a faint smirk.

His laughter is delicious, alluring and full of a teasing mockery, one that causes goosebumps to coalesce along your spine. Mickey keeps it hushed, but you won���t be heard, not over the buzz of Duran Duran from your roommate’s radio.

His digits slip beneath the waistband of your panties as he hurriedly parts your legs, rucking your nightgown up towards your hips. “Maybe,” You squeak, voice barely above a hushed whisper. Mickey’s spindly digits playfully trace over your cunt, declining to touch your clit. “M—Mickey!”

You sputter, clinging to him like a drowning woman, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater as he swipes his fingers along your wet cunt. He’s devilishly enticing, and if you closed your eyes, you could envision his forked tail and silver tongue that continued to seduce you time and time again.

“This says otherwise,” Mickey’s tone has a playful edge of mockery to it as he kisses your jaw, unable to withhold the salacious expression that creeps onto his features. He revels in the way you whimper, hips jolting forward into his hand in an attempt to relieve even a lick of friction. “Want me to stop?”

He’s cruel.

Your pitiful, desperate expression screams for him to continue as you shake your head back and forth a hundred times over. “No, no!” You whisper, moaning when his thumb lightly traced over your clit. “Jesus, please don’t stop!” Your volume becomes heightened, and at that, Mickey decides to conceal it.

Mickey chuckles — it’s a dark and dangerous sound, but that’s why he has you so hooked to begin with. That aura of dominance emerges so quickly, and you’re enthralled, powerless to stop him. “You need to be quiet.” He cautioned, feeling you grab his wrist as you encourage him to keep going.

He does, much to your delight, fingers deftly tracing along your slit, drinking in the softness and wet warmth, thumb drawing circles around that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing at all, yearning for the sensation of his practiced digits.

A hapless whine leaves your lips when Mickey begins to test your limits, two fingers nudging at your entrance. It’s sluggish and teasing as he deliberates, gaze roving over your countenance. “You think about me when you touch yourself?” He questioned, mouth ghosting over yours as he pressed a string of kisses there, and then to your jaw.

Embarrassment rippled through you at the crass question, prompting your boyfriend to stop pleasuring you. Any sensations ceased, and made you moan in protest. “H—Hey,” You whimpered. “Mickey, baby, please don’t stop.” You groaned, feeling his hand lightly clasp around your throat.

“Answer me, and maybe I’ll keep going.” He chuckled, head cocked to one side. His muscled form loomed over you, casting a shadow across your body, moonlight swallowed whole. Mickey appeared predatorial and hungry in this light — ravenous for you.

“Y—Yes, I do, I — I think about you.” You mumbled, and to your relief, his thumb returned to your clit with a feather-light pressure. You rucked your hips forward with desperation, chasing after his hand. You were flustered to no end, burying your face into his chest, which he promptly stepped away from.

“Jesus,” Mickey sighed, drinking in your smitten expression. “You look so pretty like this.” At that, he sank forward, digits nudging their way inside of your cunt. Tightness followed, consumed by liquid heat as he began to piston his fingers in and out of your slit.

Another wave of goosebumps coalesced along your flesh, making you tense with excitement as Mickey gripped your throat with his other hand. Fingers squeezed underneath your jaw, applying pressure as he bit at your lip, surprisingly rough, hard enough to draw blood.

A startled gasp tore past your mouth, accompanied by a keening moan as Mickey found a rather vigorous rhythm. His practiced digits pumped in and out of your tight cunt, coated in your slick as this thumb brushed over your clit. Your body reacted in a violent fashion, desperately clamoring forward, friction electrifying.

The shower was still running, and you were awash with pleasure, cunt clenching around his fingers as he withdrew another moan from you. Mickey loved feeling your throat bob and tighten underneath his grasp, tracing the pad of his thumb above your pulse point. It was racing — beating at the speed of sound.

Molten heat pooled within the pit of your stomach as Mickey callously lapped at the blood coalescing along your lower lip, noticing the sheen of surprise within your eyes. “Doesn’t bother me,” He uttered, kissing you again with a force that made your head spin. “Tastes like you.”

Jesus — if it weren’t for your roommate, you would’ve been screaming. Your entire being ached for him in every way imaginable, hands grasping at his sweater. Mickey turned you around, pressing your knees into your mattress as he deftly felt his way around your body.

“Fuck, I wanna be inside of you.” Mickey snarled, brazenly biting at the dip between your neck and shoulder, having tugged your nightgown into all sorts of directions. His erection was prevalent, grinding against the curve of your ass as he pistoned his fingers in and out of you. “Would you let me?”

It all felt so quick, just heat and carnality, desire that had all rolled into an amalgamation of want. You hadn’t gone all the way yet — part of you wanted to save it for a time where your roommate wasn’t a few feet away.

“M—Mickey,” You whimpered, hips rolling and jolting into his hand, palms grasping at his bicep and forearm, something to steady you. “Please, please don’t stop!” Everything felt so feverish, as if you were trapped in some thick haze, unable to break free.

Mickey huffed, countenance etched with a playful disdain as he nibbled along the shell of your ear. “Would you let me fuck you right here?” He asked again, more pointed and aggressive this time, accompanied by a harsh flick against your clit.

Your head bobbed up and down over and over again in a series of indiscernible babbles and nods. “Yes! Y—Yes, Mickey,” You might’ve said it over and over again, back arching as he began to curl his digits into you, right into a spot that made your bones turn to dust. “M’close!” A desperate whine left you.

His cajoling laughter made the hairs along the back of your neck stand up, thighs rubbing together. “Course you would,” Mickey murmured, kissing at your neck, attempting to give you another hickey, something that he succeeded in. “You’re my little slut.” The sudden degradation made you bristle.

Admittedly, you shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as you did, squirming and writhing against him as he toyed with your clit. You moaned, fingers clamping down into his arm so hard that you were afraid of leaving bruises. Mickey didn’t slow or stop, continuing that same, brutal pace as he brought you to your climax.

His hot, labored breathing fanned across your neck and shoulder, causing you to shiver as he grinded himself against you. The rough denim made contact with your haunch, content to rut against the curve of your ass. Mickey knew you were close, and with another steady barrage of digits, you shuddered.

You were drowning in a white-hot ecstasy, reduced to a sticky, whimpering mess at the hands of your boyfriend, whose grin was etched into the back of your neck like a brand. Mickey let you ride it out, spasming and mewling, hoping to let it simmer before your roommate finished her shower.

Mickey caressed circles into your clit, feeling your knees wobble, thighs quivering as you trembled like a leaf, rocking back against him. He was akin to the cat who’d caught the canary, pearlescent teeth glittering through the dim light as he slowly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt.

“Mickey,” You sighed, feeling him nudge you, coaxing you to turn around as he sat you down against your mattress. There was something vulnerable and exhilarating about it all as he loomed over you, head cocking to one side. “That was amazing.”

He smirked — a haughty, salacious smirk that made your insides turn to mush, heat pooling between your legs once more. “I’m not done just yet, sweetheart.” Mickey crooned, reaching forward to squeeze on either side or your jaw. “Open for me.”

An innocuous confusion fluttered across your features, and he drank it in — you were so innocent, so pious that Mickey fed from it. He watched in silent rapture as you opened your mouth, and again, his smarmy, playful grin was prevalent as he placed his digits upon the flat of your tongue.

A swarm of saliva began to pool within your mouth, a whimper erupting from the depths of your throat. You knew what Mickey wanted, and you elected to obey, able to taste the remnants of your orgasm.

Shyly, you began to suck on his fingers, watching the way his countenance blossomed to life with an insidious desire. “Good,” Mickey purred, placing his other hand against the back of your head, cradling your skull as he urged you closer. “Should’ve brought my camera.”

That comment alone forced you to press your thighs together, and your boyfriend, ever the watchful and observant creature, took notice. Through the dim light of your bedroom, he was as coy and cajoling as the Cheshire Cat, slipping his fingers down your tongue.

“Would you like that?” His voice contorted into something else — malefic and low. You barely noticed the lack of static noise as your roommate turned the shower off. “Should I film us together next time? Might make for an interesting movie.” Mickey uttered.

A familiar heat thrummed against your ribcage, slipping through the cracks as it rippled across your body. You suddenly realized that your roommate had finished her shower, and Mickey hadn’t moved a muscle — he knew. A whimper threatened to break free from your chest, hands tight and fisted within your lap.

When footsteps began to inch closer, Mickey took his fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with his lips as he kissed you. You exhaled, sharp and excitable, reaching for his chest again. It was hot and crackling with tension, even still. His erection pressed against your inner thigh.

“Next time, I’ll sneak over.” You murmured, feeling his lips curl into a grin as he pressed a string of kisses against your neck. As Mickey began to slink away, you grabbed his arm, staring at him with doe-like eyes. “We’ll have more than twenty minutes next time.”

Mickey smirked, beginning to climb out of your window and back onto the boughs of the oak. “I’m counting on it.” He chimed, and began to scale the tree back down and into the darkness. You watched him go, chest tight with the sensation of yearning.

Unbeknownst to you, Mickey intended on making a phone call tonight — and you were set to be the star.

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri x you #ghostface x reader #scream fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #scream #scream 2 #mickey altieri #ghostface fanfic #ghostface

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Better Story, Improved Effects." Mickey Altieri X Reader.

Soooo I was re-watching Scream 2 last week while sick in bed and something finally clicked in my brain and I realized oh fuck, I love Mickey. So shit, here we are, his first smut! I dunno where this all came from but maybe it was just lying dormant under the surface and now it’s all out here to play and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Big shout out to @eggsandbeer for the title, beta reading and to her and ALSO @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds for the help on his character and all the hyping up since this was my first time writing him.

---

Part two now here.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.3K. Mickey Altieri X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Drinking. Cheating. You Are Randy’s Girlfriend. Shit Talking. Rude Behaviour. Manipulation. Making Out. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Eating Pussy. Teasing. Banter. Orgasm Denial. Extreme Frustration. Bad Mouthing Randy. Filming. Sex Caught On Tape. Dub-Con. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Spanking. Masturbation. Cuckolding. Vaginal Sex. Squirting. Cream Pie. 

—

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday night was attending a party solo and thoroughly annoyed with your boyfriend, and yet here you were.

You had been looking forward to unwinding from a hectic week with Randy, some drinks, getting a little messy, perhaps a bit publicly indecent. Then that turning from a kind of foreplay of its own to hastily finding a dark corner secluded enough to hook up with a minimal, (but still a very exciting and arousing), risk of getting caught. 

But no, sadly, instead of getting to do any of that you were walking up to the party already well underway totally alone and all because Randy had other plans he didn’t bother making you aware of until about an hour ago. He bought a ticket to go see some movie he had already seen a hundred times, a fact you pointed out quickly that had him replying with equal speed, saying, “But I’ve never seen it on the big screen!”

As if that makes it all okay and would quell your negative emotions and upsetness about him leaving you behind and kicking off his weekend without you. He made some over the top, big and grand promises about making it up to you tomorrow and you rolled your eyes with an unconfident, “Uh-huh”.

It left your lips before he proceeded to try and smooth his departure with a few kisses that you barely returned and on top of that didn’t do much of anything to smooth down your ruffled feathers. He left in short order and you finished getting ready for your night out in a huff. Did you pour some extra effort into looking good so he would feel extra bad and stupid for ditching you for some lame movie? Yes. Was that just a touch petty? Also yes but who could blame you?

Soon as you pushed your way through the bothersome cluster of assholes that were all hanging out and talking in the doorway, for some fucking reason, seriously, who does that? Your first order of business was getting a drink. 

The first one went down too quickly and quietly, you didn’t leave the drink station in the kitchen and certainly didn’t talk to anyone yet. One of your hands on the countertop as you gulped down the sticky sweet mixture. You made a second drink after the first and then decided to venture out and seek something out to make you forget about Randy, at least for a little while, the living room that was filled with music and people seemed like as good a place as any to start. 

He was hoping he might see you here tonight but seeing you here alone was an unexpected treat. He’d caught sight of you the second you walked in although you did not spot him right off the hop. 

He’d been keeping his eyes on you for a while and if Meeks was here there was no way he would have gone this long without latching himself onto you, he is many things, loud, opinionated, and fucking clingy. He doesn’t think there is a single time he had seen you two together where Randy hadn’t been hanging off of you, like he needed to touch you in some way at all times or he would be in physical pain otherwise. To be fair he isn’t sure he would be much better if you were his. None of your other friends were about and your expression told him you were upset, about what he didn’t know, and would he be a good friend if he didn’t walk over and check in on you? 

You on an average day was already a treat for the eyes but on a night out like this, when you poured in that extra effort was truly something to behold. He made his way over to you, sliding up beside you, a hand tapping you on the shoulder as he asked, “What’s with the frown?”

Your head snapped up, looking to see Mickey right beside you, hand hovering over your shoulder and smile on his lips but eyes concerned. “Is my bad mood so obvious you clocked it from across the room?” You follow the question up by taking a healthy sip from your drink.

A raise of his eyebrows as he brought up his own cup, he’d crouched slightly when greeting you but standing back up to full height and with a half shrug as he said, “Well it is kinda hard to miss when blue is very much not your colour.”

You stifle a laugh into your cup before saying, “Cute, very cute.”

A grin breaks out on his face, he already got you laughing less than a minute into him walking up, this was a great sign. “Soooo what’s up?”

“Ahhhh-” A dismissive wave of your hand as you raise your cup for another sip, and he laughs, a shake of his head as he points to you, “No, no ‘ahhhh’, something is up so spill!”

“I don’t wanna bring down your night.” You say honestly.

He scoffs, “Doubt that you could do that, and what are friends for if not to listen to whatever is eating you?” 

He made a good point. Maybe if you vented and got it all off your chest you would feel better? So you give in much easier than you probably should have. A heavy sigh and you take his hand with the one that wasn’t currently holding your drink, urging him as you say, “Okay, c’mon.”

Mickey brightens at the contact that you initiated as he lets you drag him off through the glass sliding doors leading to the backyard. 

Sitting on the back patio you proceed to spill your guts, the thump of the music lessened now that you were outside, much easier to hear each other and talk properly. When you finished filling him in he was less than impressed to learn of the reason for your bad mood, what kind of idiot was Randy to ditch you like this? He was of course, nothing but sympathetic to your plight and your pain but also that not so small and sick part inside of him saw this as a golden opportunity, a perfect way to hopefully do what he had been dying to for months. He just had to play it right. 

He started easy, saying, “Wow, no wonder you are so upset.” 

You exhaled with a nod as you leaned back in your chair and that led to him following up with, “I mean I knew Meeks was a fucking idiot but this might be one of the dumber things he has ever done.” 

A small shocked laugh spilled out and it emboldens him, he wants to lean closer to you but doesn’t want to push, not yet so instead he is continuing further before you could hope to respond, “Like does carrot top have any brains at all to rather pass up a party with you for a fuckin’ movie? I bet if I cracked his skull open all I’d find is some loose un-popped corn kernels and a pool of that artificial butter schlock they serve at the theatre he is at right now.”

“Damn Mickey, tell me how you really feel.” You responded before you giggled and he said with a sure nod, “I will! Randy fuckin’ Meeks is totally fucking brain dead for doing this and you should be pissed up at him.”

“Yeah?” You ask, fingers circling the rim of your cup and he said loudly, arms outstretched, “Yes! I mean Christ! What, you don’t think he deserves just a little bit of your ire for pulling this stunt?”

He makes a compelling argument. 

He had you smiling, had you laughing and more importantly, he validated your feelings. The more you both talked, the more he decried Randy’s actions and backed you up as your second drink was finished, you felt it. The annoyance, the anger, the unfairness, you ended up telling him a few more things, disagreements and issues minor in nature that Randy had done to upset you, things you think you would be over but when a bit tipsy and upset, venting, it all comes bubbling up to the surface. 

It really couldn’t have gone better, you giving him those few more insights gave him more chances to plant further unrest between you and him. 

You felt insanely heard and listened to, and maybe it was your overall mood, maybe it was a bit of the drink, but everything he was saying made sense, perhaps Randy wasn’t that great a boyfriend, this movie thing might be indicative of a bigger problem in your whole relationship. Your head felt confused but that was lessening, the longer you chat, the more he insists Randy’s behavior is fucked up, you find it harder and harder to deny that it held weight and made sense.

All and all the conversation was around a half hour before he was encouraging you to get up, saying, “Enough about that asshole, it’s Friday night and look around, it’s a party! He’s out having fun and you should be too.”

He was right again and you told him as such, feeling less burdened, lighter and overall excited to have fun and put those awful feelings aside for the time being. “Yeah! No more moping, fuck him, it’s his loss.”

“Hell yeah it is.” You get up and the pair of you end up marching back into the party. Another drink, talking about not as heavy topics, snacks, sitting in on a card game or two, watching part of a movie that was playing on the tv, and a few hours later you were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder watching a very spirited game of beer pong. 

You’d switched to water for a reprieve and during a small lull you said to him, “Hey Mickey?”

A questioning hum that had him turning his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for this. I was feeling really fucked up earlier and if you hadn’t stepped in I woulda had a totally shit time tonight but you completely salvaged it. So uhm, thanks.” 

He smiles, a shrug before he says, “Least I can do, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let you sit around all dramatic and morose.” 

You laugh before trying to defend yourself, “Dramatic and morose, huh? I don’t know if it was that bad.”

His silence speaks volumes. 

You speak his name in a questioning and warning tone and he holds up his hand, a wishy washy and wavering hand motion as he said, “Ehhh-” 

A scoff of mock offence bracketed with a laugh and you playfully punch him in the shoulder, “You dick! I thought you were saving me from my shitty boyfriend for the night! I didn’t know I was just trading one asshole for another.” 

He plays up the impact, rubbing his shoulder as if it actually hurt and he says, “I’m just being honest, I thought you liked me when I was honest.”

“Honest or mean?” You fire back with a grin and he says, “There’s a difference?” 

“For the average person, yes.” 

All the back and forth was very fond and fun. You were feeling much better than you had been earlier by now and you suggested, “Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

You had no destination in mind. Just fresh night air and more conversation. As you meander about the topic, unsurprisingly considering you were talking with Mickey, the talking turns to movies. 

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Stab?” He asked dramatically aghast, way too loud and head up towards the sky as if God themself would have the answer he seeked and you laughed, “I just haven’t!”

“Well we can fix that, no, we should fix that.” He insisted, a wave of his hand encouraging you to follow as he changed course, you turn to follow, a small jog to catch up to him, “What is it that good?”

“God no! It’s garbage.” He said with a look over his shoulder towards you as if you were nuts for even suggesting it was good. You laughed, “Right, so it’s garbage and so I have to see it?”

“Naturally.” He said with a confident nod, hands sliding into his pockets as you fell in step beside him and you say, “Isn’t it not out of theatres yet? I doubt a show is gonna be happening past midnight.”

“No worries about that, I got a bootleg.” He assured and you asked incredulously, “A bootleg of this garbage movie that you don’t like?” 

“Do you not own bootlegs of movies you hate?” He asks and you say, “No because I’m not a fucking psycho unlike my present company apparently.” 

He laughs the comment off and soon you are at his place, you had never actually been here before. It was late but you weren’t in a rush to go back to your own abode alone, leading you to step into the door he was holding wide open. Wasn’t a bad place at all and you had it to yourselves, it was slightly cluttered but clean and no off putting smells or gross dishes or garbage so hey, a big win and a leg up on many other college living spaces you’d seen in your time here. 

Your eyes wander over the space, posters littering the walls, books scattered around and other items as he puts the tape in before coming to flop down beside you with a smile, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” 

The couch wasn't half bad, there was more than enough room on it for you and him and yet you didn’t stay far apart for long. As you watched and talked, Mickey pointing out flaws and inaccuracies, jokes and riffing you and he scooted nearer, until this moment right there, where you were just about shoulder to shoulder. One of his hands was on his own knee, the other one gesturing to the tv screen as he said, “I mean have you ever seen organs look faker? The colour is totally off, the blood spray should have been bigger and this is supposed to be outside! Where’s the steam?! The inside of a freshly ripped into body should be hot.”

It wasn’t like horror was your favourite genre and you are sure it isn’t his but you could appreciate the passion he held for the craft, for authenticity of film making, you keep the mood light tease, “Oh yeah because you know just what a murder scene looks like, right?”

He laughs, hardly managing to stifle it before he says, “You don’t know everything I’ve done, I could have all sorts of life experiences you are unaware of but besides that it doesn’t take a killer to know that based off the body's internal temperature if sliced into like that-” Another point to the screen, the mangled torso with the mess of red and innards on display, “-it would steam up in the fall evening air.” 

You hum with a nod and then a line read on screen was so bad he started up again with another joke that had you laughing in a way that made it hard to breathe. He was piling on, you leaning into him fully now and then that is when his hand makes contact, again only after you touch him first. 

A simple move from his own knee to yours, both cracking up and as you come down his hand doesn’t move, instead a simple squeeze as his gaze shifts from screen to you and back again. He is wearing that sideways grin that before tonight sure made your own stare linger a bit longer than it should for a person with a boyfriend, but now? It was having a different effect. 

You’d thought about it, mostly before you got with Randy, but Mickey was a really attractive guy, you got along absurdly well and tonight he treated you amazingly, was here for you in a big way when you needed him. You weren’t even tipsy any longer, you can’t blame the feelings he was giving you on the alcohol. You were only human and him encouraging you to feel your emotions, validating them, the close proximity and clear chemistry you both had wasn’t helping this either. You were positive he was into you. 

Were you seriously considering this?

He interrupted your thoughts, “You having a good time?”

The question startled you. Not just because he spoke but what he said, Mickey was a pretty self assured guy, the question might sound insecure in nature but it wasn’t spoken in a tone that lended to that. You play along and respond, “Yeah, yeah I am. Why do you ask?”

“Oh just know that what we got up to tonight probably wasn’t what you were initially planning to.” He responded with ease, not insecure, just concerned and you sighed, he was a really good guy wasn’t he? 

“Yeah it wasn’t but that isn’t your fault it’s Randy’s for ditching, besides what we did almost all of what he and I would have anyway plus some extra stuff.”

You gesture to the screen and the movie you certainly wouldn’t have seen were it not for him. He asks next, “Well glad I could help give you a good Friday night but that almost all has me curious, what exactly did you miss out on?”

You were painfully aware of the fact that his hand was still on your knee, your eyes drew down slightly at the maintained contact, your shoulders still pressed together, your thighs touching, you leaning into him has created multiple points of contact that you were only just paying attention to now. His body was warm, he smelt good and the question he asked made your mind run back to your intentions at the start of the night, of that semi public risky fuck you wanted to have with Randy. 

A subdued shrug, so small that if his eyes weren’t locked onto you and your shoulder on his he might have missed it, “Nothing two college kids in a relationship wouldn’t normally get up to post-party.”

“Ahhh.” 

The silence that followed was heavy and tension filled and he said, his eyes moving over you in a way that could be read as more than just ‘friendly’, “Shame I can’t help you out with that.”

Fuck it.

“Couldn’t you?” The question was spoken with your gaze raised, gaging his reaction, the slight raise of his eyebrows and confusion on his features meets the small uptick of the sides of his mouth, “What about Randy?”

“What about him?”  You bite back with a casual shrug.

This was too perfect for him but he still had to play this right. An amused exhale before he reminds you, “He’s your boyfriend?” 

“And yet I am here with you, alone in your place and on your couch with him nowhere in sight.” And any remaining gap was closed by you, leaning that last bit, one hand meeting his cheek and you tugging him closer to kiss him. As soon as you made that final move, as soon as your lips met his all bets were off, this was happening, patience and hard work pays off and he can take.

The response you draw from him is immediate, a soft groan, his hands moving, finding your waist, shifting his body and adjusting his posture to better return your sudden affection. You move with him, allowing him to do what he wants, take more of the lead, something he seemed to do with a startling amount of ease, as if he expected you to not only bend but to be into it.  

You were very much into it. 

It wasn’t like what you had with Randy was bad but he was relatively inexperienced when you got together and still wasn’t the most confident without some major prompting and praise. He was a good kisser but more than that you had a great rhythm off the hop, found a solid groove with a natural give and take that seemed to feed into one another beautifully. His hands feel good on your waist, they are grounding and it drives you to want to touch him further. The thumb on your hand still cupping his face swipes over his cheekbone and you tilt his face to be closer still, a move he permits along with your other hand starting on his side before wandering up the expanse of his chest through his shirt. 

His hands slip lower, you feel a rough press of him over your hips and then his hands on your outer thighs and he tugs, a further adjustment so you are underneath him, he is leaning further forward, his body starting to cover yours as the make out hastily progressed. The need overwhelms you first, he breaks the kiss and his lips drags down your jaw and further still, kissing over your neck and you arch, squirming your hips, grinding against him and he smiles against your throat from how well this is going so quickly. 

Your fingers hook in the neck of his shirt, tangling, twisting, you pull, desperate for more contact as you grind again, he nips lightly at your pulse and you moan again, softer and so sweet, addicting for him to hear. Another few passes of tongue and of teeth that have your thighs hugging his hips and the next grind that happens is mutual, as is the breath that is caught in your respective throats. “Fuck, you’re better at this than I imagined.”

The smile on his face shifts to a grin that is outright cocky, one of his hands on your hip he pulls, makes you grind on him in a way that has your head falling back with a sigh and he asks, “Have you imagined me like this a lot?”

Your hands don’t stop wandering his body, feeling him and when you don’t respond right away, more concerned with the next move of your hips and the subtle rush of pleasure, he continues, “Thought about me being the one doing this when you’re with your shitty little boyfriend?” 

A shake of your head,  but you don’t stop, you start to tug, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt and one he gives into as you say, “He’s not that bad.” 

He is sitting up on his knees, the lack of contact makes you want to complain but the fabric is peeled away and thrown to the side and any possible complaining is forgotten about. A scoff, “Sure, yeah, he’s a real great guy, hence why you were just grinding yourself all over me with your tongue down my throat.” 

A laugh that is too light all things considered, “Shut up.” 

He listens. Your hands on his shoulders yanking him until he is against you once more, your mouth crashing into his. Your body was warm and soft, you were talking about this being better than you imagined but he was stuck with the same realisation, you were a good kisser, had amazing give and take and of course the mental aspect, you were in a relationship but ready and willing, touching him, kissing him, it had him aching in his jeans. He started to tug on the bottom of your top and you broke the kiss in a hurry to free yourself of the constraining material. The sight of you in your bottoms and the pretty lace framing you up top turns him on so much more.

It progresses quickly after that. You spread below him on your back, your tongue parting his lips allowing his into your mouth, an action he completes with a small groan his wandering hands choosing to settle, particularly one finding its home between your thighs and you arched into his touch with a hushed, “Fuck yes.” 

He lets out a pleased hum, your hands work with his, removing the remaining clothing to give him better access and when there is the last layer between you and his touch he asks in a tone that is as humorous as it is sickeningly sweet, “Am I allowed to speak?” 

A hurried nod as you squirm, his fingers brush over you more firmly and he says, “You’re fucking drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone get this wet from just a little making out, how hard up for it are you?”

“Very.” Your breath hitches and he knows he’s found the right spot to focus on, fingers swirling over your straining clit through your damp panties. “Is he not doing what he should be?”

Your brain feels foggy, you are far more concerned with the sensation starting to wash over you, limbs feeling heavier, eyes half lidded and rocking your hips with the movement of his hand, “Who?”

He laughs, “Who? You already forgot all about him? That tells me everything I need to know that poor ol Meeks isn’t satisfying you.” Before any protest or defending of your boyfriend could leave your mouth he is tugging the crotch of your panties aside and feeling the bare heat of his fingers against you makes you gasp, head falling back against the arm of the couch. 

You try to push out what you wanted to say, try to tell him, “I-I didn’t forget M’ just, ugh, distracted, you-you’re distracting.”

“Awe yeah, I’m a really big distraction, do I make it hard to think?” He asks as his fingers pick up the pace, pressing more firmly you moan and nod, “Yes! You do.”

“I could make it worse.” He teases and he moves quickly. Still shirtless, in just his jeans he is on his knees and tugging you further down the length of the couch, underwear half on, your legs over his shoulders his head dips down and his strong but soft tongue licking that first stripe over your clit has you crying out with an arch of your back. 

He did make it worse. You couldn’t think properly as soon as the make out started, your mind was far too busy with him and the taste, feeling, the pleasure, it stole all logic and sense. With his lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, cradling your clit and sucking indulgently, pretty mouth latched on and tongue lathing over you between his lips, fingers digging into your hips and ass as he held you where he needed, you felt like you were threatening to fall apart in less than five fucking minutes. 

Panting out his name, heels digging into his well toned back, fingers scrambling against the corduroy like material of the couch cushions as the feeling built, if he kept this up you’d be cumming against his talented tongue in about two more minutes. Thighs squeezing his head as well as your erratic breathing clues him into how close your end is and he pulls back, the wet strand of spit, the leash connecting his mouth and your clit breaks as he moves back, his fingers take over, messy circles drawn and you whine as the edge backs off from the change in pressure and technique, “How are you doing up there?”

His own voice sounded rough with arousal, the knowledge that he is into this, getting off on eating you out makes another wash of arousal soak into your brain, heart still pounding as you tell him, “Good, so good, please Mickey, keep going.”

“Keep going?” He asks, his head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers continue to dance over your pulsing clit, your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, a nod as your eyebrows draw together, “Yeah, please? I was getting close, an-and your mouth is, fuck, amazing.”

He preens under the praise, “Oh is it?” He is playing dumb as his thumb comes down and he pulls your clitoral hood up, nerve dense tissue exposed and vulnerable, he blows gently and you shiver, body tensing, Christ, how were you so sensitive that even air passing through his lips felt this good? 

“Ye-yeah, I wanna cum, please, please-” And he decided to tease you further still, he leaned in, tongue out and your eyes are wide, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, desperate to feel him again, for him to keep going, to push you over the edge. Less than an inch from contact he pulls back with a sigh, “I dunno-”

Your head tips back with a loud groan as you roll your eyes, “Fuuuuck, Mickey, c’mon, I’m dying over here!” 

“Yeah? Does it hurt, yet?” He asks and you do notice a distinct ache along your swollen walls, a throbbing pain of denial in your clit steadily building and how awfully empty you feel at this moment. 

“Starting to, yes.” You bite out and he says, “Maybe I should be nice and help you out.”

“Yes, please, please be nice to me.” You beg and with your head still back, staring up at the ceiling you are unprepared when he licks over you again, the yelp that leaves you makes him snicker before he says, “Sure, I’ll be nice, I’ll get you off.”

You ramble, babble out your thanks and his mouth is back where it should be, lips locked over your clit, licking, sucking, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and two fingers delve inside to aid further, you clench around them with a stuttered moan of his name. It takes about three minutes for you to be on the edge between him working your clit and his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling just so in and out again and again. “God, Mickey, don’t stop, don’t stop, M’ almost there-”

And then he does just that.

He stops, his fingers stay lodged inside of you, fingers pressed to that sweet spot he’d found with ease but no longer moving and you want to cry, you ask in completely frustration, “Mickey what the fuck?” 

“I know, I know, I told you I’d help you out and M’ gonna, soon as you give me something.” You are looking down the length of your body to him between your spread thighs and are just about ready to agree to anything so long as he’d make you cum. “What is it?”

The grin on his face is positively wolfish, he licks again over your clit and you inhale sharply, “Nothing big.” 

“No?” You ask and another lazy lick combined with a rock of his fingers he says, “No. I just want you to tell me I’m better than Randy is and I’ll make you cum your brains out.”

Your heart drops, you shake your head, for some reason, that wakes you up, makes the heat inside you cool, you feel like that is the line, that is too far, you say, “No, I-I can’t do that.”

He tsk’s, “Shit, guess you don’t want to cum that bad then.” He didn’t stop though. He didn’t pull away, far from it, he goes back to eating you out and fingering you he just kept fucking stopping before you could cum and he kept on posing that question, your juice painting his chin. 

“You wanna admit it yet?” And you kept on telling him, “No-no, I-I don’t ha-have anything to admit.” 

It made him laugh. He had two fingers three knuckles deep inside you, right now and felt your clit pulsing in pure frustrated need in his mouth less than two seconds ago but sure, you had nothing to admit. “I can feel how hot and worked up you are, how many times have I edged you already? You are a really, really bad fucking liar.” 

“M’ not lying!” You attempt to assert but your voice wavers, “No? So I’m not better than Randy? He makes you sweat and tremble like this before he’s ever even made you cum once?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and refuse to meet his gaze. You want to thread your fingers in that stupid sexy messy hair and grind on his tongue until he makes you cum, not have this stupid battle of wills.

“Mmm, yeah that is why you aren’t able to look at me, because I am so far off base.” He sounds unbearably smug and he slides his fingers out of you and you almost break, you want to sob and plead for him to continue but he is sucking the mess that had coated his fingers and you again feel your mind going blank at the visual. 

He is getting up and his erection pressed against the denim looks like it has to hurt, he was starting to undo his pants and said once he was standing at full height, “How about you return the favour though and see if your tune changes?”

That sounds way too appealing to you especially because you could pay him back with some torture of your own and torture you do. After taking in the sight of him bare, your mouth is practically watering, he looks frankly delicious and you intend to dine happily. Your hand locks around the base and you lean in, eyes staring up at his face as your tongue makes the first pass, intent on taking in his expression and how he reacts to the movement. It is positive to say the least, the slight inhale, the tensing of his muscles, and the small curse that spills out. Your tongue flicks over his flushed tip, tasting the ample pre-cum that he had been leaking, your lips close, a chaste kiss before you begin to move down one side of his shaft, he is impossibly hot and throbbing in your grip. 

This is going to be too easy. 

Is what you initially thought but you would also be very wrong, because even as you let him breach your mouth, even as you begin to suck and take more of him in, you don’t feel in control or empowered. You feel weaker and hotter, he made you feel so fucking good with seemingly such little effort that you being able to do the same, to pull such reactions out of him makes you want consider his previous offer more seriously. 

You try to push those thoughts away as you blow him.

You gag yourself, choke on him and it makes him groan your name, his hips buck, he fucks in and out of your lips stretched around him and drool slips out, slides down your neck as you hold his hip with one hand, the other around the base of him still, hand working him in tandem with your mouth. You look up again, his eyes are still on you, on the length of him sliding between your slick lips, his neck and chest blooming red, flush from pleasure painted over his features as he pants and you squeeze your thighs together. 

All in all you used your mouth on him for around five minutes before you break, pulling him out you ask, out of breath and needy, “Fuck me?”

Randy is coming inside after going to get himself some breakfast, it’s around ten AM, sun shining and he is carrying a stack of mail and thinking about giving you a call soon to make up for him bailing last night. The movie was a good time but he missed you, he didn’t do much after the movie, came back here and went to bed basically, he thinks you will probably be up soon. He is about to sit down on the couch when something catches his eye, namely, a tape half in half out of the VCR. He comes forward, he pulls the tape out and there are no markings whatsoever on it, odd. 

He is curious enough that he thinks why not, he shrugs and pops the tape in, he walks back around the coffee table and is flipping through the mail again but what he hears gives him pause, makes him stop. 

Hearing a very familiar modulated voice greeting him, “Hello Randy. Been a while. Seems like some stuff has changed for you, like the cute girlfriend, she’s new. I like what I have seen of her, how much I have seen of her, thought you’d be interested to see what she was up to last night that I managed to catch on video.”

And the voice over cuts out and instead he is hearing your voice, gasping out, “Mickey oh my fucking God-”

He pauses flipping through and looks up and what he sees playing out on the screen makes him gasp.

The video shows a well lit apartment, the main focus of the shot is a couch, the view is from the side and bent over the arm of the couch pointing at the lens is you, not a stitch of clothing on, fingers digging into blue fabric, open mouthed and moaning, with who the fuck else but Mickey Altieri behind you. He was fucking you and seemingly you were loving every second of it, your face twisted in bliss and rocking back onto him, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and your head pitches forward, a shaky nod and you hum the affirmative, “Mmhm!” 

“Yeah it is, fuck you’re tight.”  His hand reaches out, he grabs your hair, wraps the handful around his fist and he tugs hard, you cry out and clench down on him making him suck his own teeth from the sharp jolt of pleasure, he is pulling your hair so your head snaps back up, making sure he is showing off your gorgeous expressions for the camera. 

Little did you know that when he passed by the camera set on the counter earlier to grab his bootleg he turned it on, that it had been running this whole time. It didn’t take much to edit it, or to add the voice over or for him to sneak it into Randy’s apartment either, honestly it was too easy if anything. 

Randy had dropped the mail and was slowly sitting down, he can’t stop watching as you rock yourself back, helping impale yourself on Mickey and moaning the whole way. His hand that wasn’t pulling your hair is sliding down and the cry that tears from your throat makes what he is doing obvious, fucking you doggy style and toying with your clit at the same time has you telling him in a few more thrusts, “Shit, oh, ohh Mickey, fuck, I-I’m close again, fuck-” 

“You gonna give it up? You gonna say what we both know is true?” He prompts and you shake your head, “I-I cah-can’t, Mickey, just, let me cum, please-”

“Not till you say it.” His hand is out of your hair and laying a hard hit onto your ass that makes your back arch and finally you can’t take it any longer, your confession pours out, “You’re better than him okay?! Fuck, fuck! You’re so, so much better tha-than Randy, make me feel so good, he-he’s a joke next to you, God, don’t stop!” 

“Oh there you go, see? Doesn’t being honest feel so, fucking, good?” Those last three words are bookended by a brutal thrust, another strong move of his fingers and finally you break, nodding along, agreeing as you cum chanting his name over and over like some broken and fucked up prayer, trembling the entire time as the pleasure tears through you and threatens to make you collapse. 

“What the fuck…” Randy asks quietly as he continues to watch the scene unfold, watch as Mickey keeps railing you totally dumb and you agree with all the fucked up things he asks, drooling and telling him, “You’re so good, so much better, keep, ah, keep fucking me, please!”

“You think I’m able to stop now? Not a fucking chance.” 

He can’t bring himself to turn it off. Even as you continue to insult him, even as Mickey makes you parrot back that Randy is quote, “A shit fuck-ing boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you.” 

When you say it though it sounds a lot more broken and pathetic, "He-he's a shit fu-fuck-ing boyfriend who-who doesn't deserve meeee-"

Randy gets shamefully, embarrassingly, painfully hard as Mickey fucks you harder and harder, fucks you through another two more orgasms and a few more good position changes. Watching you ride him while he has a hand locked around your throat is hard to take, but the worst has to be when Mickey has his arms wrapped around you, fucking up into you and you are just trying to take it, legs shaking and too weak to do anything else but cling to and kiss him as he has you, as he holds you. That sloppy kiss is broken, your eyes squeezed shut as you are telling him for the fourth time since the tape started, “Mickey, I’m close again, God, yes!”

And not only do you cum, not only do you sob out his name as Mickey’s hard dick slips in and out of your well fucked hole, no, you end up squirting too, something Randy didn’t even know your body was capable of. Your moan bleeds, cracks at the edges and the man fucking you laughs, a blissed out joyful sound of disbelief, “Holy shit!” 

The amount that comes out of you is impressive, he watches as the camera picks up the rivulets of liquid as they race down Mickey’s shaft and his sac and the quickly darkening stain under the pair of you as he doesn’t relent even for a moment. Mickey kisses you, deeply, sloppy and to add further insult to injury, after you are coming down from your orgasm, he breaks that same kiss he initiated and asked, “Randy ever make you squirt like that?”

And you laugh, eyes rolling back and a shake of your head as you breathlessly admit, dumb and cock drunk as you tell him, “No way, not once.” 

The tape doesn’t even stop there, it goes on until Mickey is the one warning you minutes later of his impending orgasm and it is like you become possessed, your hands lock behind his neck, a burst of energy, motivated, you ride with abandon and Mickey doesn’t even have to ask, you are too far gone, you are the one who begs, “Cum inside, don’t pull out!”

He should get up.

He should turn off the tv.

He should take out the tape and smash it to bits but no, he does none of those things. He watches helplessly as Mickey’s hands grip your hips so hard Randy bet’s they will bruise as he holds deep and unloads inside of you. Mickey let out a groan of your name and you shiver and Randy is sure you can feel every pulse of him as he fills you. 

The come down is sickeningly and stomach turningly intimate, he feels as if he is intruding on a private moment even though you are his girlfriend. He watches the kisses passed back and forth, the soft touches and he is about to wonder when the tape WILL finally cut when he hears that mocking voice of Ghostface again, “Pretty hot, huh? I think they make a good couple, what about you Meeks? You enjoy the sequel?”

And the screen goes black.

He sits there staring at the tv set for all of thirty seconds before he gets up and goes over. He doesn’t hesitate to hit rewind. He should talk to you, confront you about what happened, what this means, what you did but when the tape finishes rewinding he doesn’t do that. 

He takes his original seat and frees himself from his pants and guilty enjoys the second of what is sure to be many viewings with his dick hard and hot in his palm.

#HOOOO BOY #HERE IT IS #Mickey Altieri X Reader #Ghostface x reader #BHF writing #Thank you again to Riri and Ace for all the assists! #I loved writing this so fucking much #Randy Meeks X Reader

[mrsaltieri-real]

how do you think billy, stu, mickey and ethan would take care of their girl... while on her period? ;)

AHHHHH. I’m ON THIS SHIT.

I think we all know how they’d take care of their gal. I feel like all of them (especially Stu and Mickey) are completely down to sort you out nicely when you’re on your period.

Like I said, Mickey and Stu especially would still eat you out while you’re on your period, it will NOT stop them. If anything, it makes them even more keen with their insane blood kink.

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn’t like seeing you in that kind of pain. He’d be taking care of you for sure. Expect tea and cuddles, expect period sex, expect him to do absolutely anything and everything for you. He’ll be giving you back rubs and kisses to your neck, asking a little too much if you’re feeling okay.

Stu Macher

Stu. Stu, Stu, Stu. The freaky little fucker. He’s a cheeky fuck but he’ll make sure you’re okay. He’ll be trying to make you laugh, saying something corny like “laughter is the best medicine”. Again, expect cuddles, a LOT of period sex (his cock heals all) and he’ll be going down on you at any given moment to ease your cramps.

Mickey Altieri

Mickey doesn’t like seeing you in THAT kind of pain either. It’s one of the times in your relationship he’ll actually be really sweet and attentive. He’ll refuse to allow you to leave your bed, bringing you food and treats, give your aching body a message. Once again, the best part is period sex. He won’t be able to keep his hands or mouth of you. He’ll talk about how he watched a documentary that said orgasms were the best form of pain relief. Who are you to argue with that?

Ethan Landry

Ethan’s a little sweetie and he couldn’t stand seeing you in pain either. He’ll be giving you massages, running out on trips to the pharmacy for pain killers and just wanting to be there for you. I don’t think he’d be too big on period sex initially, but once he’s comfortable with you? He’d do fucking ANYTHING. He’ll bring you food and snacks and just lie with you in bed for the whole week, giving you cuddles and making sure you’re okay.

#I need them biblically #my boys #OUR boys #who the fuck doesn’t want them??? #scream #billy loomis #stu macher #mickey altieri #ethan landry #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #mickey altieri x reader #ethan landry x reader

[toxicanonymity]

You wake up cold in the middle of the night. You grope around behind you to find the blanket and reclaim some of it from your man. You tug at the blanket, but he's hogging it and you can't get enough to cover yourself. You scoot back against him and grumble that you're cold. He drapes it over you and spoons you. You're too sleepy to notice the fabric is smooth and different, or that his arms are bigger. Everything's bigger. He's warm. You drift off in his arms, wrapped in his robe, and your boyfriend’s body is getting cold on the bedroom floor. 

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface ☠️ #ghostface blurb #toxicanonymity ☠️ #slasher x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #mickey altieri x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface fluff #dark fluff #my last ghostface blurb turned into Every Inch 😅🫣

[getmeoutofhell]

Road trip to Airport with the GF group headcanons

A/n: I just feel like they deserve more stories all together so why not???

Warning: cussing

edit: i’m so embarrassed because hawaii is an island. pretend this is to the airport omfg 😭

THIS HAS BEEN EDITED

On the road:

-CHAOS

-like actual chaos no joke

-romans the driver (obviously)

-you’re sitting in the passenger seat since Roman thinks you’re the best to sit by in the car

-he also DEMANDS Mickey to be put in the back for obvious reasons.

-you can probably expect some arguments and other unnecessary drama on the road

-stu and billy sit next to each other (so un expected) and billy is not happy about it

-you can probably guess why

(1)-“Stu move your damn leg.”

(2)-“My legs not even touching you.”

(3)- “yes it is!”

(4)- “no it’s not!”

-then roman buts in

-“can y’all stfu? I can’t concentrate on the road with all that shit going on in the back.”

-do NOT I repeat do NOT give ethan, amber, quinn, stu, charlie or richie the aux or let them any where near the damn radio.

-unless you wanna hear weird/shitty music

-roman said that they’re banned from going near it ever again

-if you can drive roman may let you and him take turns driving (depends if you drive good to him or not)

-I feel like if any of the older GF comes (Debbie, Bailey.) they probably would drive separately because they know how the group gets when they’re all together…

-mickey saying shitty jokes when he gets bored

-amber and stu encouraging the shitty jokes

-stus ass eating up all the snacks

(1)-“who the hell ate up all the hot cheetos??”

(2)-“it wasn’t me!”

-has evidence all over his hands

-charlie showing weird ass videos he found on his phone to mickey

-has the damn volume all the way up

-roman buts in again

-“turn that shit down!”

-ethan may be one of the quietest in the car

-like he just sits there on his phone listening to music, starting out the window

-richie may bug him a bit

-you but in and tell him to stop bothering him

-stu thinks you’re sus

-quinn and amber arguing like every 30 minutes

-roman getting aggravated at them

-if you guys stop for a bathroom break be prepared for romans bickering

-“listen guys, no fucking around in the store we’re losing time here! Get in and get out.”

-stu buys all kind of weird snacks

-hopefully no one notices that they’re literally murderers

Hope you enjoyed this little drabble! I will make headcanons about us staying in a hotel plus when we’re actually in Hawaii!! ❣️

#slashers x reader #slashers #slashers x y/n #roman bridger #roman bridger x reader #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #stu macher #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #quinn bailey x reader #quinn bailey #ghostface x reader #ghostface

[cowboy-lover69]

Ghostface first-time with you headcanons

(1,236 words)

(nsfw 18+ only)

Billy Loomis

--- It would be like a month into your guy's relationship when he suggests having sex. He would not ask you outright, he would dance around it for a minute before asking you he's a little bashful about the whole thing.

--- When you guys start having sex he's pretty gentle, he doesn't want to scare you off the first time you have sex with him he goes easy on you. During sex he asks you a lot if you are enjoying yourself but in a hot way like “Oh, do you like that sweetheart?”

--- He definitely tops you the first time you guys have sex. I mean in general he never really bottoms unless you ask really nicely, but since it's your guy's first time he kinda gets a feel on how you are in bed so he goes with what he's used to.

--- After sex, he probably lay there for no more than a moment then got up to get dressed. He's very casual about the whole thing.  After the first time, it might be a little awkward but he tries his best to break the tension after the first time you guys have sex.

Stu Matcher

--- You guys would most likely have sex for the first time within the first few weeks into your relationship at most 3 weeks. It would be pretty informal just something that happens. Like you, two would be sitting on your couch watching a movie, and he starts making out with you, and one thing leads to another and you two are having sex.

--- stu is very goofy and informal when it comes to sex in general. He will crack jokes during sex and stuff like that. it's not like the sex is not hot though, he just toes the line very carefully between silly and hot. The first time it does take you aback a little thought.

--- Stu is a freak. I mean he's a very kinky guy. He refrains from doing anything too kinky in bed the first time you guys have sex, he doesn't want to scare you off. 

--- After the first time you guys have sex he will ask you if you had a good time along with other questions about his performance then you guys will go watch tv.

Mickey Altieri

--- you guys would most likely not be in a relationship when you guys first have sex. I feel like he would joking flirt with you and come onto you, well you would think he was joking but he wasn't. At some point, you will say yes as a joke, because you didn't think he actually would do it, but he did. Of course, you were a little shocked but you gladly reciprocated.

--- Mickey is not ashamed of his kinks and does not fear scaring you off with them. He goes all out during your guy's first time. It could be a little overwhelming how much of a freak Mickey is compared to others you have slept with, but you get used to it.

--- After you guys have sex for the first time you guys might lay there for a few minutes before Mickey asks for a round 2.

Roman Bridger

--- You and Roman would definitely have sex for the first time before being in a real relationship. It would most likely happen at a party or after a party. Definitely, a situation where you two had started making out which led to sex.

--- Roman is really selfish when it comes to sex. You're not used to it your first time around but you don’t mind it too much. 

--- After having sex for the first time with Roman he asked a few questions about how the sex and he gave you a few compliments then he just got up, dressed, and left. He's not too interested in having conservation. Of course on further sex adventures with him, he's warmer to you.

Jill Roberts

--- I don’t feel you guys would have sex for a little while in your relationship. At least 2 months and at most 3 months. You guys would be watching a movie and a sex scene would start playing and Jill would lean over to you and would say “ I think it would be fun if we did that. Don’t you think so?”

--- Jill definitely has a pain kink. Not like being in pain, she likes inflicting pain on others. She doesn't go too much into it the first time you have sex with her. Mostly to see how you feel about the whole thing.

--- After sex, you two will just lay there for a few minutes until she says “That was fun right?” afterward she offers to get you something to drink.

Charlie Walker

--- Charlie would be rather eager to have sex, but he definitely doesn't instigate it, at least for the first time. You guys would be like watching a movie or something and then you guys start making out and one thing leads to another and you two have sex.

--- Charlie is rather nervous during your guy's first time, he just wants to please you so he does whatever you ask. He's almost a little too giving during sex. When you guys get a little more into it he will ask you to do something for him mostly just fulfilling the fantasies he has about you.

--- After you guys have sex he will praise you for your skills, then he admits that you have been the first person he had ever had sex with you guys talk about that for a little before you two go to sleep.

Amber Freeman

--- I think it would be a very spur of the moment kinda thing, she would pull you into a closet at a party and they ask you if you want to. 

--- I feel like she has a thing for this kinda thing both public sex and very spur-of-the-moment sex. It definitely takes you by surprise but you get used to it. 

--- After you guys have sex for the first time you and her will just leave the closet as if nothing happened. After you guys leave the party you guys will talk about it.

Ethan Landry

--- I think you guys would have sex very soon after dating. I think you guys would be playful and be messing around then somehow you end up on top of him. You would realize he was turned on so you offer to relieve him. 

--- I feel like when you guys have sex for the first time he would be pretty basic since he's pretty new to sex in general. 

--- After the sex, he would be pretty amazed at how good the sex was, and sheepishly ask for a round 2.

Quinn Bailey

--- Quinn is a pretty sex-positive person. You guys would most likely have sex before you guys officially dated.

--- Quinn has a VERY high sex drive so if she can’t she will make sure you can go as long as possible of course your stamina might not be able to keep up the first time since you probably don’t have that kinda stamina yet.

--- After sex, you guys will take a little bit of a break since you are probably pretty tuckered out from the very long sex session, but soon after maybe 10-15 minutes of just talking while laying in bed she will ask you when you wanna go again

masterlist (taking requests)

#stu matcher x reader #mickey altieri x reader #roman bridger x reader #jill roberts x reader #billy loomis x reader #charlie walker x reader #amber freeman x reader #ethan landry x reader #quinn bailey x reader #headcanon

[sadesluvr]

Opposites Attract

You’re a self-obsessed sorority girl. He’s an enigmatic film freak. What more is there to say? (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

A/N: My first full Mickey fic! It’s loosely based off of my headcanons (linked HERE), but ofc it's not necessary to read first :) I LOVE him and this has been in the works for a while, so I hope you enjoy it! He is Ghostface in this, but it's only alluded to… 

Word count: 2.7K 

Tags: SMUT / Enemies to lovers / Oral sex, fem receiving / Flirting + Sexual tension / Safe sex! / Doggystyle / Spanking / Light choking + Asphyxiation / Allusions to murder / Relationship goals, kinda 

You and Mickey Altieri couldn’t have been more different. He was a ‘Tarantino obsessed film freak’ from a seemingly regular (if not a little shady) background with a small group of friends. You, on the other hand, were a peppy architecture student; one of the top girls in your sorority from a rich family with a lawyer father. 

In theory, nothing about the two of you should work - Mickey thought that ‘people like you’ were phoney and self-obsessed, whilst guys like Mickey were essentially ‘nothing but trouble’. Still, it didn’t stop the two of you from being ‘frenemies’, even to the point of culminating in a secret relationship.

Even though you absolutely despised each other, there was something intoxicating about how you’d bicker; how Mickey would roll his eyes and smirk whilst you would get frustrated and brush him off, annoyed yet giddy on how you got under each other's skin. 

This was one of those times. 

You’d smuggled Mickey into your room as the two of you were off to join your respective friends at a party. He claimed he ‘hated’ being around posters of boy bands and unnecessary anthropomorphic stuffed toys, but there was something in his intense, greedy stare as he watched you preen and accessorise that told you otherwise. Of course you knew he wanted you. You wanted him too, but you refused to give him anymore gratification outside of that one night —

“Pink is so not your colour,” he scoffed, shaking his head as you fixed your bolero.

“Unfortunately for you, Mickey, I don’t care about your opinion,” you said sweetly, and you could hear him mutter under his breath. You always loved to get the last word.

“I prefer the baby blue,” he continued. “It brings out the pearls,”

You shrugged him off, fixing the string of beads around your neck. Everyone in Windsor knew that pearls were your signature accessory; the fragile beads sat elegantly around the base of your neck year round, as if you were a regular Jackie-O. Mickey always teased you for wearing them (like he did with practically everything else), but he couldn’t deny how beautiful they looked on you. There was certainly something to be said in the contrast of you; the  ‘righteous, innocent’ being, just like your necklace signified, being with him, a guy with a deep, dark pastime. He wondered what the pretty jewels would look like covered in blood; not necessarily yours (at first), staining the priceless material for good so that they were forever soiled. Your daddy would probably flip.

Good. He hated lawyers.

“…Why do you need to wear pearls anyway?” Mickey said, his voice low as he got up from where he was sitting, stalking over to join you at your dresser. “This is a college mixer, not Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” he finished, eyes locked on yours through the mirror as he stood behind you, his hands placed firmly on your waist as his fingertips threatened to travel elsewhere, likely towards your ass. 

“Because they’re pretty,” you said quickly, gathering yourself as you pushed him off slightly, spinning to face him as you leaned against the surface. “Daddy got them for me on my sixteenth birthday. I love him…” you finished wistfully.

“You love the things he gives you,”

“No. I love him,” you insisted, rolling your eyes as you clipped in your earrings. “He’s a very hardworking man, putting freaks and freeloaders like you in jail,” you said pointedly.

Mickey scoffed.

“I’m a freak now, hm?” he mused, leaning over you. He was tall, and you could feel his breath on your neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin ever so slightly. “Then why are you with me?”

“Obviously due to some kind of terrible head trauma,”

Mickey rolled his eyes for what felt like the billionth time that night, instead focusing his attention on your neck; his canines brushing against your collarbone as he nipped at you, his love bites turning into soft kisses. You fought your hardest not to fall apart under his touch as he pulled you into him, hands exploring your waist and thighs as you felt his hardening cock against your ass. His cologne; though likely nothing more than retail store bought, was intoxicating, and you forced yourself not to lose yourself into his touch. There was just something about him that was insatiable…

It certainly helped that he was a little dangerous.

Sighing, you pushed him off you to face him yet again, fixing your clothes as you flashed him a sultry look.

“How do I look?”

He paused, eyes raking you up and down.

“...Like a girl with a stick up her ass and a cock in her mou —“

“Don’t say that!” You cut him off, slapping his chest lightly before you picked up your bag.

“What?” He snorted. “That ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ facade doesn’t fool me. You’re a slut,”

“I am not!”

“Are too,” he retorted, following you like a chihuahua. “Don’t you remember that night at the Halloween party? You were in that slutty little cat costume and you were very generous to me under the stairs —“

There was a distinct smugness in his voice, and it took you right back to the hazy-liquor induced moment; from the sloppy kiss that had united the two of you, to the cool metal of his belt on your hands as you undid his trousers, and the salty taste of his cum as he held your head to his base. A beautiful moment, yes, but one you’d agreed to never speak of again.

“And here you are hoping for round two,” you sighed sarcastically, pouting your lips and patting his cheeks affectionately. “Give it up Mickey, it’s never gonna happen,”

“Your call, Princess,” he shrugged, walking to your door and beginning to open it. “Just try not to go all ‘Single White Female’ on me when one of your little sorority sisters wants it more,”

You froze. You never considered yourself to be the stereotypical jealous girl, but as a spoiled only child you were definitely not used to sharing. Katie Lewman was one of the girls in your sorority who you knew had a definitive crush on Mickey, and had even gone as far as trying (and possibly succeeding) to hook up with him. You knew she couldn’t compare to you in the slightest, but Mickey was definitely a player and would sleep with someone if he pleased…Or to get under your skin. 

Mickey’s smirk was visible from the corner of your eye, and you slowly pushed the door back in, making sure it was locked.

You frowned.

“I hate you, you know that?”

Your lips were on each other’s in an instant, with Mickey pulling you in hungrily by your neck, barely giving you any time to breathe.

“I know…” he grumbled, voice broken as he came up for air. His gaze was focused intently on your lips, and his beautiful eyes made contact with your own, taking a moment to ogle your body.“ ‘Drives me crazy…”

Your hands found the sides of his slender waist, drawing him in closer so that you could feel his wanting cock against the thin material of your dress. Given that he wasn’t the typical ‘submissive’ guy, you were surprised when he teased you back, beginning to stumble back towards your bed.

Still kissing, you landed on top of him, and he wasted no time in assuming his position above you, hands pinned to either side of your body as he held your lower half in place with your own. He stopped and cocked his head at you, admiring the way your chest heaved and your eyes were wide. Apparently he could still surprise you.

Good to know.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as Mickey began to strip. It was undoubtedly a godly sight, but you hated the way he made your pussy ache and stomach flutter with the smallest of movements.

“Why do we keep doing this?” you whined, and he grinned, baring his teeth as he stalked over you, taking your jaw in between his hands as he angled your head to stare at him. 

You always looked so pretty beneath him.

“I like the chase,” he uttered, and you began to make out once again, this time with you peeling off your bolero, and hiking up your dress so that it sat by your knees, unsure of how exactly he was going to take you. Mickey was a natural freak, and was always down to experiment when it came to sex…It was one of the many reasons why you liked him.

“Keep the dress on,” he whispered in your ear, nudging you so that you lay flat on your stomach. “Get that pretty ass in the air…” he finished, leaving a love bite on your neck before he pulled away, rubbing his hands along the curve of your spine, teasing you with what was to come. 

SLAP! A red, stingy feeling ran through your lower half, legs peppering with goosebumps as the sensation settled in. Eyebrows furrowed, you gasped and turned to Mickey, who only gave you a shit-eating grin in response.

“Ass. Up.” 

“You assho—“

SLAP!

“Ass. Up.” He repeated simply, staring at you knowingly. Glaring, you hiked your ass up in the air and he assumed the position behind you, pulling the material up over your thighs to rest on your waist. The thin material of your panties left your hot, aching cunt exposed to the cool air of the room, a sensation that was soon replaced with Mickey’s tongue.

He had quite literally buried his face in your ass; hands spreading your asscheeks apart as he delved into your folds, tongue lapping eagerly at your folds as he explored your pussy. You gasped, beginning to moan as you bunched the bedsheets up in your fists, subtly trying to fuck his face back, causing him to stick his face deeper into you.

You could practically see his smile from behind.

“Little Miss Sorority likes having her pussy eaten, hm? What would a girl like you know about giving?” he sneered, spreading your right cheek further and massaging the skin in his hands as the other remained firmly in position. 

“S-Shut up —“ you whined, balancing yourself on one hand as you tried to pull him in, desperate for some release as he found your clit.

“Nuh-Uh, Princess,” he smirked, swatting your hand away. “You don’t get to touch me,”

You groaned and resumed your wringing of the sheets whilst Mickey revelled in your audible pleasure, adding to your stimulation as he stuck his middle and index finger inside you, beginning to move them in and out. Your juices coated him instantly, and he took a moment to lick them up, savouring the unique taste.

He had to have you.

Retracting his face from your privates, he smacked your ass again, admiring how it immediately warmed in his hands.

“…Why’d you stop?” you whined, pouting your lips.

“Because I’m gonna fuck you,” he responded, taking out his cock and stroking it languidly. It was just how you remembered; peachy with a good five and a half inches in length. “This is real life, Princess, we don’t always get everything we want…” he admonished, beginning to line himself up with your entrance. His tip teased your cunt, head smearing dots of precum along your lips, threatening to penetrate.

As much as you needed it, you couldn’t let him win.

“Speaking of not getting what we want…You better wrap your shit up,”

Mickey pulled away and scoffed, his shoulders slumping in annoyance.

“Come on, Princess…” he said knowingly. “You know it doesn’t feel the same…”

You hummed in amusement, beginning to push down your skirt and gather yourself together when you heard Mickey groan, a weight slowly lifting off of the bed as he made his way over to your dresser.

“You are such a spoiled brat,”

“Then come over here and teach me a lesson,”

He slid the condom on in a quick motion and made his way back over to the bed, grabbing your neck as he kissed you, arching your back in the process. The pressure pushed the pearls of your necklace deeper into your skin, a telling reminder of who you were. Social hierarchy may have technically been dead, but the Romeo and Juliet romance would forever thrive.

With a spank of your ass, he wasted no time in entering you from behind, barely giving you time to adjust. As he began to move, you heard him mumble to himself, hands holding onto your hips as he focused on daggering you, your tight walls stretching perfectly over his cock. 

“What’d I say?” Mickey teased, another hand coming down on your ass as he watched your skin slap against his. “Doggystyle. Classic slutty position…What would Daddy think if he saw you now?”

“Fuck…” you whispered, grasping the edge of the bed as your legs tingled from the pressure and your back was being stretched out perfectly. Mickey always ran his mouth. Always. But he was so fucking good at it.

“M-Mick —-“

“That’s it, Princess. Say my name…I want the whole fucking house to hear—“ he growled, utterly feral at the way you moaned and whined for him, to the point of you being speechless. He ran his hands from the curve of your spine and up to the back of your neck, smirking to himself as he forced your face into the duvet, bringing your ass higher into the air.

His fingers played with your pearls, hooking them under his middle and index finger and tugging on them, causing the hard beads to press against your windpipe. He could’ve fucking choked you to death right there and then, and subsequently drowned himself in your screams and moans of pleasure and pain before indulging in your tight, wet cunt; burying himself to the hilt as he’d come. Sex with a condom just wasn’t the same. 

The skin of your ass bounced against his thighs, every bit of contact driving him to thrust deeper, wanting to hit the deepest parts of your core. He let go of your neck, snickering to himself as he heard you let out a desperate gasp for air, and began to rub your pussy as he fucked into you.

“ ‘Can’t believe you’re this wet for me,” he sneered. “Hm, if only you could see yourself!To think, this is one of the rare times I don’t have my cam…”

Your cunt clenched at the idea, and he let out a throaty chuckle. Mickey carried his camcorder everywhere; and the idea of immortalising your illicit affair on a tape filled with your sleazy, steamy antics was enough to send you over the edge. If it ever got out, you’d probably be kicked out of the sorority…Maybe even college. Whilst your father would certainly hate the infamy, there was no doubt Mickey would love them fame.

Mickey groaned as you came around his cock, your walls tightening as he began to reach his own release. Desperately wishing it were your raw pussy, he shot a healthy load of cum into the condom. His grip on your ass tightened as you teased him, grinding your hips against his pelvis so that his slowly softening cock revelled in the wet, spongy sensation.

After a few moments he pulled out of you, placing his hands on his thighs as he admired your aching, satisfied cunt. Smirking, he slapped your ass a final time before collapsing next to you, stroking your pearls and kissing you. This one was slightly different - sloppy, yet gentle. Affectionate, even.

“Whaddya say we stay in tonight, hm?” Mickey perked up, staring at your ceiling. “I’m not going to a party with this —“ he looked down at himself, “— On my dick. How about we rent a movie and get pizza…?”

Cocking an eyebrow, you turned to look at the brunette curiously, propping yourself up on your elbows. It wasn’t explicit, but you knew that this was Mickey’s way of asking you for a date - And to be fair it didn’t even bother you. You were the life of the party, it was likely that it’d be boring without you.

“Sure,” you smirked. “But I am so not paying!”

#a sex tape fic with mickey? YEAH 👀 #florence writes!! #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #timothy olyphant #mickey altieri #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader

[msookyspooky]

i would love to hear your thoughts on mickey alterti as a yandere cause he definitely would be one 🫶

OMFG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😩😭😏

♡ Mickey Being Obsessed With You ♡

Yandere Mickey x GN!Reader • Problematic af

- He saw you on campus and flirted with you regularly. You just laughed it off and soon he started mingling within your friend group.

- You didn't think much about it at first...But it was odd that everytime something 'bad' happened; he was there to offer you comfort and support

- When the Ghostface kills happened, he was the first one to tell you everything was okay and he wouldn't let anything happen to you

- When you found a body for the first time, he hugged you close to him and sshhed you that everything would be alright...How weird he didn't seem too distraught over seeing someone mangled...

- Soon people that slighted you were coming up missing and later found dead. Mutilated beyond recognition, actually. You always saw the way Mickey would glare at them. Absolute hatred towards anyone mean or rude to you...You just thought he was a good friend!

- But when your friends came up dead, this time, you started to freak out. Mickey talked to you in private after a good friend was attacked with a superficial wound. He told you, "...Why would the killer not kill them? Just be careful with them, YN."

- The police were suspecting you or someone in your inner circle. Mickey panicked when the police made you a suspect. You thought he was just THAT loyal that he believed you could never be the killer.

- Soon, your friend was found with evidence in their bag that they screamed wasn't there's. They were arrested and all you could do was accept your friend was the killer all along. You were devastated!

- You felt suspicious of Mickey just because his behavior was odd but with your friend being caught red handed; he was just a good guy! A bit cynical, dark humor, overbearing and overprotective but he wasn't a killer.

- Mickey was the only person you had left and he wanted you to have a movie night with him just to make sure you were okay.

- While at his place, he went to get snacks and you saw his camrecorder just sitting there...You smiled to yourself and snuck a peak. Thinking you'd see movie shots or his friends....Your face fell when you saw the footage.

- Every video was you. From far away a long time ago before you even talked to him clear up to present day. It was endless reel of you. You. You....You.

- You snuck out and ran as fast as you could. Terrified.

- You hid, trying to get to the police when a Ghostface appeared. Trying to grab you as you fought back. You fought with everything you had. Then you heard the voice. Confirming who the killer really was.

- "Don't make me hurt you, YN!" He peeled off the mask and looked at you like you were the only person in the world. "We're okay now. Especially with all those annoying people out of the way. Don't you see it!? We can be together now! It's okay...You can be with me now."

- He holds you captive from that point forward. Whispering sweet words to you in a soft voice while he held his knife dangerously close to your throat. He took you back to his place, letting you know that if you told; he'd kill you or someone you care about. Be a shame if you told police and he wasn't caught. What if your entire family or friends off campus came up dead?...He knew where you lived, where they lived, when they were home....He knew everything about you.

- The killings stopped. Your friend was going to trial. Mickey and you were 'dating' now. It was A-Okay and only because you let him love you.

- He constantly recorded you no matter how miserable you looked. Claiming you were his muse with an adoring smile.

- He was extremely loving towards you. So soft, playful, loyal. He was arguably the best boyfriend you had when he was in a good mood.

- However, that dark look would enter his eyes whenever anyone but him held your attention for too long. Especially another guy. His grip on you would get painful, his mood would sour and he'd start making threats again. Swearing that if you left him; people would die. Maybe even you...If he couldn't have you, no one could.

- He'd hunt you down if you tried to leave him. Knife in hand and a feral look in his eyes. "Don't fight me, YN. You know I love you. You know I only want what's best for you...Just accept it!"

- You were his only. You didn't need friends when you had him. As long as you were good; the mask and knife stayed hidden. But if you acted up and someone got killed? That wasn't Mickey's doing, that was yours. If you ran away and he hurt you? That was your fault too. He can't control himself, you know this. Just be so good for him and let him be a good boyfriend.

- Once you accepted it; he was an amazing guy. He did anything for you. Had no eyes for anyone else. Laughed at every joke. Listened intently to what you had to say with a grin on his face. Would hold you close if anyone dared come near you especially in a flirty way. Loved you like you were the only love he ever knew. Desperate for you every time you were together.

- HOWEVER...Friends were only permitted as long as they didn't take time away from him. People joked that you and Mickey were attached at the hip and you forced a smile to play along no matter how much you wanted to tell them. He had to come to every family get together. He would become distraught, close to tears and rage if you just simply wanted time away with a family member or alone time. It took hours of him trying to emotionally manipulate you and you trying to argue it was fine...He usually won.

- You were his. Only his. You just had to accept this was your life now. That your boyfriend was an obsessed serial killer that made you the object of his obsession.

#tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw abuse #tw obsessive love #tw yandere #scream #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #scream 2 #scream imagine #scream imagines

[leatherfaceish]

FATAL ATTRACTION HOTLINE

You fall victim to a hotline serial killer on campus, unbeknownst to you that it’s your classmate Mickey attempting to fulfill his desires.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT PAIRING — mickey altieri x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — drabble, ghostface! au, 1997! au, stalker! au, college! au, crime, smut, thriller WORD COUNT — 4k WARNINGS — mature content, heavy (seriously) dark humor, intense situations, manipulation, weapon used: knife, petname used: baby, humor towards suicide as a distraction, dumbification, stalker! mickey, mickey is an ass, reader dies btw SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, dub-con (consent is given), prey/predator dynamic, biting/marking, dry & clothed handjob, unprotected intercourse, creampie, double orgasm, spit as lube, hair-pulling, dark! mickey is basically feral for you RELEASE DATE — APR 13TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i think this is the most fucked up thing I've written to date, and yet it's kind of tame? lmao but the reader's entire thought process being like "i want to see how this ghostface FUCKS." absolutely took me out. and i wrote it. also yes i changed the title because i’m worried this site will have a field day with this one.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | FEEDBACK

“Calling at such a late hour?” The robotic voice seemed to lean into the microphone, almost cackling at the time you’ve dialed the hotline written on the bathroom stall. “You must be desperate.”

"When was the last time you felt something?" Your finger tapped at the numbers on the wall, the stall seeming to fit you just right in the moment of your weakest. "Like really—feel."

"Jumping head first into the suicidal thoughts tonight, aren't we baby?" Their voice made your heart nearly skip, but the tears along the corner of your eyes were hot enough to keep you grounded.

"I'm serious." 

"So am I." It felt like a joke to them, your brow furring and teeth gritting almost seeming to be heard by them over the phone. "Did you even read the message on the wall?"

"The writing?" You questioned, eyes finding the marker written words along the wall again. "It's fading."

"It's been there for a few years now."

A junior, or a senior.

"Do I really need to tell it to you straight? Can't you read it for yourself?" You could hear the smile on their face by now, even if a box that changes their voice was held over their lips.

You wanted to speak every syllable you could make out before they could say anything else, but they were already ahead of you.

"A disclaimer from left to right: A sexual experience that ends in demise. One you'll never forget, and no one else will either!"

You sat quietly, reading along with them until you realized just what you had called into. From first glance, the number seemed to be from someone who had once been in your position. Sitting in the abandoned dorm's bathroom stall crying your eyes out, up to your neck in the negatives of life and school, and so miserable that you just wanted one person to speak to that understands.

"I didn't read that part." You spoke just above a whisper.

"Let me guess: You thought this was just a suicide hotline? Someone to listen to your problems and give you advice or the answers you're looking for, maybe even some hope?" They couldn't hide the laughter in their voice, almost cherishing your innocence and stupidity. "Someone who would make you leave the call feeling better about things?"

"Is that not what you do?"

You could hear them losing their patience, the huff before they spoke seeming to make your head rush. "Read the fine print again."

Sexual. This hotline was for sex. But why was suicide mentioned?

"Are you a guy?" The question to you seemed so small and quick, but they weren't playing short.

"Is that your preference? Men?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"The sexual part, baby." Their voice didn't grow faint for a second, almost as if they held the phone even closer to the voice box to make things more apparent. "It's the 90's, you could be into anyone these days."

"So, you are a man." A conclusion, and his laughter on the other end.

"I can only provide dick. Such a shame, isn't it?" You almost couldn't help the cackle that left you, his interest peaking.

"Why were you crying?" Finally, he seemed sincere.

"Bad day."

"One of many in this school."

"You're a student?"

But his shortness made itself up in other bits—like now, when he ignores your dig into his personal life.

"Do you understand who you've called?" He seemed to teeter on his sanity, voice raising a volume higher than before to make his point. "What I am going to need from you now?"

"Don't hotlines have consensual guidelines?"

"I'm no normal hotline." His teeth sounded gritted, his patience leaving him fully. "You dialed the number." His voice returned soft, his sing-songy tone almost mocking. "You even pressed the dial button. And here you are, clueless."

"C-Clueless? How does this even work? You feed some sick person a bunch of nonsense until they do what you ask?"

"Have I asked you to do anything for me?"

You almost had to rethink the entire conversation, but he had never truly pried so much. Even now, minutes into the conversation, you could hang up and move on. Maybe even call a real hotline.

"Let me guess, you're considering hanging up?

"What if I do?"

"That would only piss me off, baby. Think harder. How can I be so sure of this working?"

Your mind was blank, only listening to his robotic voice in your ears like a guide.

"I don't understand."

"Sex for a faked suicide." He cackled, speaking slowly. "That's who you called. You set yourself up, all because you want to die so badly. Wouldn't you prefer to go out shaking and orgasming than cold and lifeless?"

"How do you know what I want?"

"Sitting in that lonesome bathroom crying all night isn't going to solve any of your problems. But talking to me, letting me take control of your life and your fate could." He spoke rapidly, like gun-fire—as if he had been waiting a long time to say these things to someone who was dumb enough to call. "Stall three from the door, right?"

The conversation turned predatory, his voice growing darker and shorter as he spoke on.

"Look at that—" He said the three words just above a whisper, your shaking body listening like the world was in slow motion. "I can even see your shoes beneath the door."

It was a dream, you felt like you weren't conscious as you noticed the swaying black dress cut roughly at the end. One that of the grim reaper, or better known to your town as the outfit of the Ghostface killer.

"P-Please…"

"Please what?" You could hear his grin, could feel his energy through the door and through the mask he wore like it was a fire. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I-I can't…"

"Want me to make it go away?" His voice returned to the annoyed tone it sometimes held, a tilt of the Ghostface mask letting you see the white face through the crack of the door towards side of the lock.

"How?" Your voice was a whisper, but in such an empty space, the bathroom seemed to echo the word off every wall.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was stern. "Tell me you want me to do it."

"I-I want you to—" Your voice shook. "d-do what?"

"To fuck you. And then to let you go."

Every racing thought has brought you here. Every mention of wanting to end your life, negative thoughts in your mind like they lived there—it all carried you to this one, unhinged solution.

"And if I say no?"

It was the loudest sound in so long, the clash of the pager against the crack of the door where you could once see his mask peeking through. Even with a squint of your eyes, you knew the phone number across the screen was your cell number.

"I know who you are." Another smile behind his mask, a hefty breath through the voice box, and the killer seemed to be in heaven. "I'll kill you either way. So, why not agree to the fun part?"

The tears falling down your face had grown hotter as you shook in fear, splashing onto the tiled floor of the old bathroom in tandem with a dripping faucet. As everything grew silent, and your mind fell even quieter—you spoke.

"I want you to do it."

"Where do you want it done?" That rough tone again, he wanted quick answers.

"I-In my dorm."

"Live alone, huh?"

He pulled the pager back, slipping it into his pocket and pressing his hand against the lock of the door to feel the coin-slot ridge. All it needed was a turn, and then you were all his.

"How do you like to be fucked?" This was clearly his favorite question, a light tone of excitement in his voice as the dark eyes of the mask peered through the crack of the door once more.

"D-Deep. It's better that way." You spoke in cut words, still shaking as you heard his breathing stutter from what you said. "I like to feel e-everything."

"Everything?" He repeated, only the question was rhetoric. "I'll make you feel everything."

And there it was again, that rise in his voice that told you he was up to something. With so little words being spoken, you could only make out his movements—and without skipping a beat, you knew just what he was doing.

A clean knife prodded into the line of the lock outside of the door. A safety feature added to help those outside get in when necessary, even if it was against the safety of the one inside. You could hear the sharp object click in, turning until you saw the lock slip from inside the wall back into the door. And just as the thin door squealed open, you found yourself face to face with death.

"This—" The robotic voice was somehow louder with the door open, a short step into the single stall making you shake more from his presence. "isn't your dorm room, is it?"

Your head shook rapidly, going along with what he said in order to not cause any harm to yourself. You wanted to scream, every fiber of your being truly wanted to—but you knew the knife in his hand would slice your throat with ease if you did.

With every sexual experience comes the part where your stomach is twisting in anticipation, such as now.

"Then let's go there, shall we?" He spoke kindly, a façade making your body ache with the idea that he's not all that bad, as he offered you his gloved hand.

The fabric of his glove was thick, enough to keep blood or any liquids from soaking in and staining. Your hand cupped his palm, his fingers taking hold of yours with a tight grip. Just as it crossed your mind again, that he's not so bad, your neck was met with the sharp metal blade.

"This is how this goes. We walk out, hand-in-hand—all romantic like—and we make a b-line for your dorm room. Any attempt to run or get help, and you die on the spot."

"O-Okay…" The knife trailed the skin of your throat, begging to press into your flesh and retrieve some reaction from you that's pure pain. But the man seemed to linger his touch lower, his free hand falling upon your waist like it had been there before.

He was stern, uncaring of your tears being wiped away by your own touch, and most certainly rushed as he pulled you forward at a fast pace. "Good."

You had almost forgotten the journey you normally made out into the abandoned dorm. Lined off with caution tape, and only one door that allowed you in and out without being seen—the eeriness of the building being so quiet and stuck in time was just as scary as the killer walking you along its halls.

"Take it easy." The voice box over his mouth seemed to click with his words, sounding faulty as he pressed you forward and out the door of the old building. "This won't take long."

There were thumps and bumps all across the ground as you walked by housing holding sorority parties. The man's grip tightened every time you walked by someone. Anyone getting particularly close made you cling to him in a loving way. Anything to make you appear normal. Anything to keep you alive right now.

"Walk slower." The louder music was coming from your own dorm, a party that had started long before you made a move to the abandoned dorm still going strong. "Costume party. What idiots."

He was right, a sea of costumes immediately melting the two of you into the party like you had been there the whole time. From pulls on your waist, to jolts of your body forward to rush you into corners, you had finally gotten through the most packed floors and into your dorm room.

The cool air made your skin rush with goosebumps, a moment in time seeming to stop everything as you spun to face the masked man. He was skilled, clicking your door shut and locking it—all with the knife he once held to your throat returning to his hand.

You could hear his voice box click, hear the thumping of your own heart in your ears almost louder than his voice.

"This is where you want to die?" He asked, pointing the shiny knife at your small bed in the middle of the room. "Right here? On your own blankets?"

You bit at your tongue, eyes growing glossy as he took a step towards you every time he spoke. It wasn't until he was right in front of you, the faintest hint of his cologne moving into your nose, that you could even comprehend what was happening.

Tears seemed to pour slower, but your body needed more air. You seemed to stifle, sniffling in deep breaths and trying to swallow it all down into your lungs as fast as you could.

One sniff, and you felt nothing. Another, and you smelled something familiar. One more deep breath, and that hard-to-miss smell of someone you know finally broke through.

The white mask was tight on his head, held in place as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. Your sniffling had stopped, glossy eyes matching with what would be his glowing brown irises within the eyes of the mask.

"M-Mickey?"

He didn't move. He didn't have to. It was simply meant to be—that you found out.

"Now you really can't live after this, baby."

He spoke with such confidence, his knifeless hand raising the Ghostface mask up and off his head until his chiseled face was in your view. His wide teeth, fang-like canine in your sight, and it was truly your fellow student Mickey Altieri.

You took in his clean appearance, the sweat dripping down his temples and jawline from the thick mask he had worn for nearly an hour now. His outfit was just the same as the costume shown on the news for the last few years—banned, then unbanned, and now favored by many.

"I finally got you right where I want you." The man had a squeak to his voice when he was excited, a Cheshire grin on his face. It all made sense now, how you knew his emotions even without being able to see him before.

You wanted to breathe, suck in his scent and reassure yourself that he would never do something like this. The lighthearted film major with an affliction for gore and horror—you should have known he was a red flag deep down.

But his lips attached to your own, moved to taste you with his tongue and suck the oxygen from your lungs like he could steal your soul that way. His lips tasted metallic from the voice box that had been pressed against his mouth most of the night. He swayed you side to side until his arms were wrapped securely around your waist and there was no way you could leave him.

And when the breath was finally returned to you, you could truly see the craziness in his bright irises and blown pupils.

"Tell me you want me." His lips pecked at yours between his sentences. "Tell me you want me to fuck you. Just like before!"

His pink tongue poked out between his lips to press into your skin, lapping at the dried and salty tears along your cheeks all the way down to your collarbones. There, you felt his teeth. Pearly whites leaving a small bruise on your neck as he awaited your magic words.

This was it. There was nothing you could think of past this. And there was no running far enough away from him.

"M-Mickey." He halted at his name being said slowly and softly, his eyes turning warm as they peered up at you from below your chin. His gentle smile, the one that made your heart skip a few times before you knew he was capable of this, it still gave you butterflies. "I want you to be the one."

"Oh—" His body language was confused, but his eyes were wild. Looking between your gaze and the mark he left on you, you could see him hesitate from reaching to grab his knife and cut you right there. "Oh—fuck, I thought I'd never here you say those words."

His hands were shaking, leaving the thin fabric of his costume where he rubbed his sides to grab hold of you again. His fingers were tight against your clothing, pulling at whatever he could get off of you right then and there.

It was his sense of giddiness that almost made you forget he planned to kill you afterwards. How his tongue stuck between his aligned teeth every time he saw more skin. The animalistic sounds he made as he licked and kissed at you until his weight pressed you into the mattress.

"You taste just how I imagined." The man cooed, losing all of the cool and collective he once had with his voice box.

His hand slipped down, the knife covered by his costume now poking into your side as he felt at the wetness growing between your legs. His coated fingertip raised towards his mouth, your juices making his eyes clenched shut in euphoria as he moaned.

You didn't want to admit that his fingers dipping back down against you felt good, or that how he appeared now—so out of his mind from your taste and your unclothed body beneath him alone—made your head spin. The man had been tailing you all along, stalking you until he knew what headspace you were in, that you would soon call his hotline and make yourself his victim.

It was meant to be creepy, but as his hand took your wrist and pressed your cupped hand against his hard length—you couldn't regain the sense to feel scared.

"Look at what you do to me." His head hung, eyes staring at you darkly as he used his fingers to press your hand into him until he was grinding against your touch. You could feel the stain of precum spurting through the fabric of both his underwear and the costume, sucking in a deep breath when you felt him twitch when you rubbed him on your own accord.

The man was going insane—even if he was already previously. 

"I want you." He groaned, his weakened neck laying his head onto your shoulder as you kept your rhythm against his clothed cock. "I want to feel your insides."

"Then why don't you?" He hissed at your words, his hips thrusting into your hold until he was rutting against you. If he didn't slow down now, he wouldn't fuck you like you want him to. "Mickey."

His name made his hips stutter and stop, eyes finding yours again. It was almost like he forgot why he was here, so drunk on you that he just wanted to fill you up. You could see him waver, bite down on his tongue, and then be sent into overdrive.

Mickey moved quickly, pulling at your hips until your body was facing flat against the mattress and your head was buried against your pillow. You could hear his costume being ripped in certain places, feel his body heat closing in on your backside—but what was most appalling was the feeling of his fingers pulling your underwear down your legs until they hung at your ankles.

It was almost rewarding, feeling his tip at your wet entrance. The saliva from his mouth had drooled enough onto his fingers when he was collecting your wetness to add to it all, and every inch of him that slipped into you made a squelching sound.

"Fuuuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!" His words got louder and louder, his cock being held by your walls trying so hard not to fill you with his cum just from one pump in. Mickey was at a loss, your body heating up just right until your warmth made him feel alive.

"This is what I wanted." His motion to pull out was cut off by his tiny rut back into you, just a small feeling of needing to fuck you fast dissipating when he remembered you like it rough. His head fell into your neck when he slammed into you harshly, feeling you clench around him like never before. "This is all I wanted…"

"M-Mickey." You cried with his words, short but sweet to him as he filled you up only to pull out and thrust back in with such vigor that your entire bed was shaking. "Do what you want to me, Mickey."

His hair was a mess, the discarded Ghostface mask being shaken off the side of the bed from his hard thrusts and landing on the floor going unnoticed by the two of you. So lost in each other, everything seemed to slip away.

If only he had you sooner.

The hand at your waist lifted, the weight of his body holding you down into the mattress and giving him enough space to fuck you deep and fast. You could hardly form words, and he couldn't make any other sounds except moans.

It wasn't until his free hand pulled at your hair, enough to raise your head to let you speak, that you remembered the entire premise of this transaction.

"Do you like me now?!" He asked with a boiling anger in his voice but a rumbling orgasm approaching. "All those times you turned me down. And you could have had this."

"I-Is this how you do it?" You spoke through broken cries and gritted teeth. "You wait for some poor girl to call your hotline, whaling into the phone about wanting to die. All so you could talk her into letting you fuck her first before you kill her?"

"The perfect way to die." He groaned, pressing himself deeper into your walls as they clenched around him sporadically in the race towards your orgasm.

You could feel his hot seed start to fill you, his thrusts running messy just as your body shook and went firm. Orgasms taking over both of you at the same time, you wanted nothing more now than to find a way out of this.

"Mickey?" His hand was still in your hair, but your head had fallen back onto the pillow. "I-I just—"

Your skull felt his strength, head lifted back up from the cool pillow with the sharp knife on your throat once more. You could feel drips of blood falling down your neck and staining the pillow.

"Just want to stay alive?" Mickey had returned to his unhinged stature, almost as if it had never left him for a second. "Baby, baby, baby." He cooed, his thumb pressing into the side of your cheek with his fist that held the knife. "I got my end of the deal…"

"Please—"

"You've gotta get yours." The knife was piercing, the blade having been recently sharpened finely until it could cut through almost anything. As you felt more blood leaving your neck, you could hear his soft voice in your ears—almost as if he were God himself speaking to you during your final breath.

"And just so you know—" There it was, one last time, that huge Cheshire grin in your peripheral. "You were my first."

© leatherfaceish — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

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