Woso

Warnings: stalking, sexual content, mentions of murderer, this is purely fiction, knife play, cliffhanger❣

Notes: If people are interested, I might write a part two but I don't attach a lot to this. Fem!reader

Paige

The town has been quiet. Real quiet. After all the murders that have happened.

It’s almost boring now.

No more sirens blaring in the dead of night. No more reporters shoving cameras in the faces of trembling survivors. No more hushed whispers about who’s next? Everyone thinks it’s over. That Woodsboro can finally breathe again.

They’re wrong.

Because I’m still here.

And so are you.

I watch from the shadows, blending into the night, my breath steady beneath the mask. The thrill buzzes in my veins as I grip the knife, fingers tightening around the hilt. You don’t know I’m watching. You never do. That’s the best part.

You’re so predictable. Same routine, same paths, same habits. Makes it almost too easy. You don’t check behind you when you walk home. You don’t double-lock your doors. You don’t notice the flicker of a figure just outside your window.

But you will. Soon.

Azzi says I should take my time with this one. Make it fun. Draw it out. Let the paranoia sink in before the first cut. I like the way Azzi thinks.

A vibration in my pocket. My phone. A message.

Azzi: You ready?

I smile beneath the mask. Of course, I am.

Lifting my own phone, I open my contacts. Scroll down. Stop at your name. My finger hovers over the call button. One tap and the game begins.

Tonight, I’ll make you scream.

...

I start small. Subtle things. A shadow in the corner of your eye that disappears when you turn. The feeling of being watched when you’re alone. Your phone buzzing with a blocked number, only for there to be silence on the other end.

You’re already nervous. I can see it in the way you glance over your shoulder more often. The way your fingers tremble when you pull out your keys. The way you hesitate before stepping into your house, as if expecting something to be waiting inside.

Oh, but not yet. Not yet.

Azzi wants me to make it last. Stretch out the fear. Make you second-guess everything. And I want to savor it. The anticipation is half the fun.

Tonight, I leave a small gift. Just a little reminder that I’m close. A single, crimson-stained knife resting on your doorstep.

Let’s see how long it takes before you start screaming.

...

You’re getting jumpy now. I see it in the way you walk, the way your hands are always hovering near your pockets, checking your phone as if you’re expecting it to ring. It’s good, really good. The way you look over your shoulder at every passing car, the way your movements are stiff, tense, uncertain.

But you still don’t know I’m here.

I follow you again the next day. You don’t see me, but I see you—walking quickly, eyes darting around, body language screaming anxiety. There’s a flicker of awareness in your eyes as you stop in front of your apartment door. You check the lock. Again. But you don’t check behind you.

I’m not surprised.

I’m almost always right behind you. The thrill of being this close is unbearable. And you have no idea. You never do.

You’re afraid, but I’m not ready to strike. Not yet. I enjoy the wait. The tension is everything.

...

You’ve started carrying a flashlight with you now, I notice. Cute. It’s almost like you think it’ll help you see through the dark spaces. It’s almost like you believe it will help you spot me.

But you can’t see what’s already inside your head.

I see you in the alley one evening, looking over your shoulder, clearly spooked. I step into your path just as you turn a corner, but I’m quick. A blur in the darkness. I stop just a few feet from you, watching as your eyes widen with that sick, sharp fear.

You freeze.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t scream. Not yet.

We stand like that for a few moments—me in the darkness, and you, caught between fighting the urge to run and freezing in place, every instinct screaming that you’re in danger.

I tilt my head, feeling a small, twisted grin creep up beneath the mask. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know I’m here now. You know. And that’s the point.

“Are you scared?” I ask, my voice low, purposeful, carrying just the right amount of menace. You don’t answer, but I can see your eyes darting around, calculating your escape. But you won’t get far. You never do.

The pulse in my veins is deafening. This is the moment.

I let the silence hang between us. The tension so thick it could be sliced open with a knife—if only the real action were ready to begin. The knife I hold in my hand is ready. My fingers itch for it, for the next step. But I wait.

I want you to know it. To feel the weight of the moment.

Finally, you take a trembling step backward, but then you stop. You swallow, blinking rapidly as if trying to hold yourself together.

You think you can handle this. But you’re wrong.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I whisper. The words slide like ice. You’re mine now.

...

The next night, I don’t leave you in the dark. This time, I’m more direct. I appear in your room. You don’t hear me at first. But I’m there. I’ve been there for a while.

You gasp when you finally notice me, sitting in the corner of your room, where the shadows meet the wall. Your heart skips. That breathless moment of realization.

I stand up, slowly, purposefully, and you scramble back in bed, as if your covers will protect you. But you know they won’t.

You start to reach for the phone on your bedside table, but I’m too quick. I grab your wrist, my fingers tightening around your skin, and pull your hand away.

“You thought you could get away,” I murmur, watching your pulse throb in your neck. Your breath is coming in sharp gasps. You’re afraid, and I can feel it. I can almost taste it.

“You’re not safe here. You never were.”

I see the flicker of defiance in your eyes, but it’s fleeting. The fight draining out of you, the last vestiges of resistance crumbling. Your lips part, but no words come. Only the soft, breathless sound of terror that fills the room. It’s beautiful.

I let go of your wrist. You immediately yank it back, but you don’t make a run for it. You’re frozen. Staring at me. Watching as I move closer, the weight of my presence bearing down on you. The silence between us is deafening, like the calm before a storm.

It’s then that I let the mask slip. Slowly. Just enough to give you a glimpse of my face. A shadow of recognition flickers in your eyes.

You knew. You knew who I was all along.

The tension that’s built between us finally reaches its peak. Everything is electric. Your gaze is wild now, full of fear but also something else.

And that’s when you do something unexpected.

You don’t scream.

Instead, you lean forward.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” you whisper, voice shaking but laced with something sharp, something defiant.

And just like that, the game shifts again. The tension between us—so thick, so heavy—becomes something else entirely.

I can feel it now. You’re not just scared anymore. You’re intrigued. You want this.

...

There’s no going back from here. Neither of us can walk away.

It’s just us. And the darkness that’s wrapped itself around both of us.

The room feels smaller now, as if the shadows have crept in to claim both of us. The space between us thickens, filled with something that wasn’t there before. An energy, an unspoken tension that electrifies the air with every breath. I’m so close now that I can feel your pulse quicken, the way your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath. It’s intoxicating.

You thought you could escape this, didn’t you? That you could control it, keep me at arm’s length. But I see it now, don’t I? That flicker of recognition in your eyes. The way your body tenses when I move just a fraction closer. You’re afraid, but there's something else behind that fear. Something you’re trying to hide, but I see through it.

You take a hesitant step back, as if you want to distance yourself, but I follow, my every movement deliberate, slow, like a predator closing in on its prey. Your breath hitches when I stop just a hair's breadth from you, close enough to feel the heat from your skin, but still just out of reach.

“You can try to run,” I whisper, my voice a soft, teasing caress, “but you know you won’t get far.”

You shudder, eyes darting to the door, the window—anywhere but at me—but I can see the way your eyes linger. You want to move, but your body betrays you. You want to stay and face me, but something pulls you in.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” my lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “You think I’m just here to hurt you.”

I tilt my head, studying you with a quiet intensity. The way your chest heaves, the way your pupils are dilated, the way your body tenses and relaxes like you’re warring with yourself. It's almost too easy. You think you’re playing the game, but I know better. You’ve already lost.

“Or maybe...” I take a slow step closer, my voice lowering to a near whisper, “maybe you’re not as scared as you want me to believe.”

Your eyes snap up to meet mine. Something hidden beneath the layers of fear. Your lips part slightly, and I feel the pull. It’s strange. The way our gazes lock, as if we're both aware of the line we’ve crossed but unable to stop it.

I reach out, a slow, deliberate motion, just grazing your arm. My fingertips linger there for a second too long, making your breath catch, making you flinch—just a little. I feel it. You feel it.

“I wonder what it would be like,” I muse aloud, my voice soft and dripping with an unsettling calm, “if you stopped running. If you just... gave in.”

You swallow hard, but I can see the way you don’t pull away. The way you don’t tell me to stop.

“You think I’m playing a game,” I continue, leaning in just a fraction, letting the space between us shrink. “But I’m not. I’ve already won.”

You stand there, frozen, caught in the web I’ve spun around you. You try to convince yourself you could escape—just one step back, one quick motion, and you could put space between us. But you don’t. You stay. You don’t pull away. And I see it.

You need this.

It’s in the way your eyes flicker to mine, hesitant but curious. It’s in the way you swallow hard, the rise and fall of your chest a steady rhythm, like you’re trying to steady yourself against something you can’t control. The tension between us thickens with every passing second. Every little movement feels amplified.

I can feel it now, that pull. It’s not just fear. It’s something else. Something dangerous. Something thrilling.

I take a step forward, moving in just a bit closer. My breath brushes against your skin, close enough to make your heartbeat accelerate. You’re trying to keep your composure, but I can see the way your hands twitch, the subtle way your body responds, like you’re fighting the urge to touch me, to react. But you’re holding back, just barely. Just enough to keep the game alive.

But I can feel it. The crackling undercurrent between us, the unspoken understanding that this moment is irreversible. I’m inside your head now.

“I told you,” I murmur, my voice low and smooth, “You can’t run from me. Not anymore.”

The quiet, aching silence that follows feels heavier than anything else. You don’t look away from me. You’re not fighting anymore.

Your breath hitches when I take another step forward, closing the distance just enough to make you feel the heat of my presence against your skin. My voice drifts toward you again, soft, teasing. “Why don’t you speak? You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You want to say something. I can see it in your eyes—the conflict, the fear—and yet something else. A craving.

I lean in even closer now, just enough so that you can feel my breath on your neck, soft and warm, lingering for a moment. My hand moves from your arm to your shoulder, fingers digging into your skin, drawing you closer, until your body is practically pressed against mine.

“You’re mine now,” I repeat, the words more of a command than a statement, the final seal in this twisted game we’ve been playing. “And you know it.”

For a heartbeat, the world holds still. Your chest rises and falls with every shaky breath you take. Your pulse thunders in your ears, your body reacting to the proximity, to the power that’s shifting between us.

You could pull away. You could scream. You could fight me. But you don’t. You’re not sure anymore what’s stopping you”

The tension stretch taut between us, like a string pulled to its limit. You want to fight it. You want to escape. But the more you stand there, the more you realize you don’t want to anymore. You’ve crossed the line, just like me. And we both know it.

“You’ve been trying to keep control,” I continue, my voice dripping with satisfaction. “But I’ve already taken it from you. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

You flinch as my hand slides down your arm, slowly, deliberately, every touch a silent challenge. “But you feel it, don’t you?” I whisper against your ear. “You feel how this is changing. How it’s different now.”

And I see it in the way you bite your lip, in the way your eyes momentarily darken with something darker than fear. Something that’s not fear at all. A need.

I lean back just a little, studying your face with an almost predatory focus. “You’re not afraid of me anymore. Are you?”

You meet my gaze, your breath shaky but steady. And in that moment, I see it—that flicker. It’s not fear anymore. It’s something darker. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

I step back, just enough to give you space to breathe, to think, to doubt yourself. I watch as your body reacts to the shift, the change in the dynamic. You’re caught between wanting to push me away, and wanting me closer.

The silence stretches out again. But this time, the question lingers in the air.

How far will you go?

“Why don’t you say something?” I murmur, my voice teasing, coaxing. “I know you’re dying to.”

“What the hell do you want from me, Paige?” you spit, your voice edged with frustration, yet there’s something else in it—something raw, something unspoken.

I lean in, just close enough that you can feel the heat of my breath on your skin, and I can see the way you tense, like you’re trying to resist but can’t quite manage. I watch the way your eyes dart to my lips, to my hands, and it sends a thrill through me. You’re trying to hide it, but I see it. You’ve always been so predictable.

“I want the same thing I’ve always wanted,” I murmur, my lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You.”

Your breath hitches, and I can hear the sharp intake as you struggle to compose yourself. “You’re sick,” you whisper, but it’s not as convincing as you want it to be.

“What’s the matter?” I tease, my fingers brushing lightly over your face, feeling the way your skin reacts. “You’ve never been able to keep away from me. Even when you tried.”

Your jaw clenches, and I can see the pain flash across your face—pain I caused, pain I took delight in. But you didn’t know, not yet.

“Why did they have to die?” you demand, your voice breaking with frustration. “Why did they have to disappear? You think I don’t know you were involved, that I don’t know someone took them away from me?”

I let out a breath, low and almost amused. “I don’t think you know anything, sweetheart.”

You freeze. Your eyes narrow, and I can see the wheels turning in your mind as you piece things together. Your throat constricts, and I feel the weight of your gaze on me, searching.

You think it was my accomplice, don’t you? The one I’ve kept in the shadows, the one you never saw, but you always knew was there. The one you assumed was pulling the strings while I just... watched. The one you thought was the reason your little group of friends disappeared one by one. You thought it was him, didn’t you?

You’re tense, your body taut, but your eyes are wide with suspicion.

“Why don’t you ask yourself who it really was?” I whisper, the words dripping with something dark and deadly.

Your breath catches again, but this time, I don’t let it go.

You don’t speak, but I see the flicker of realization cross your face. I can see it in your eyes, the spark of understanding. The way your pulse quickens as it all begins to fall into place.

“You...” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, a note of disbelief creeping in. “You did it. It was you. All this time, it was you.”

I step back slightly, watching as the pieces click into place in your mind. “Of course it was me,” I say softly, almost gently. “You really thought it was him? That someone else was making sure you stayed alone? No, sweetheart. That was me. I was the one who made sure you had no one left. Well, with a help of a friend.

You stagger back, your hand coming up to your mouth as if you can’t believe it, but I see the truth in your eyes. You’ve always known. Deep down, you’ve known.

“But why?!” you demand, your voice shaking. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you just... just let me go?”

I laugh softly, the sound low and almost soothing. “Let you go? Do you really think I could just let you walk away? Do you think I’d let you slip out of my grasp just like that?”

You swallow hard, your gaze flickering to the ground as if you’re trying to process it all. “You killed them... because I moved on.”

I reach forward and gently lift your chin, forcing you to look at me, and I can see the mixture of fear and disbelief in your eyes. “It wasn’t just because of that,” I whisper, my voice now cold, the edges sharp like a blade. “It was because you thought you could forget about me. You thought you could replace me with them. You thought I wasn’t enough. You thought I’d just fade away. But I’m not that easy to forget.”

I watch your face, the way you process the words, and I can see the realization start to sink in. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Knowing that everything you thought was a coincidence... wasn’t.

“The people you were talking to,” I say softly, my hand brushing against your hair. “They were nothing. Just a distraction. Just things to keep you from coming back to me. And once you let them in... well, I couldn’t allow that, could I?”

Your breath is shallow now, your hands trembling as you struggle to keep your composure. “You really thought I’d... go back to you after all of this?”

I step closer again, my lips brushing your ear as I whisper, “You already have.”

You stand there, breathless, your body betraying you. Despite everything—despite the horror, the betrayal, the anger—you’re still here.

...

You

I reached up, removing the mask fully. Paige's electric blue eyes filled with everything you can imagine. She's a killer. A killer and she looked breathtaking under the plae moonlight, creeping in from the open balcony door.

She didn't flinch, didn't move—just stood there, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, the glint of her blade catching the light. Blood splattered across her cheek, a stark contrast against her porcelain skin.

I should have run. Should have screamed.

But I didn't.

Because despite the terror curling in my gut, I wasn't afraid. Not of her. Not of the way she watched me, head tilting slightly, as if waiting for my next move.

"You're not scared," she murmured, voice smooth as silk.

I swallowed hard. "Should I be?"

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. She took a step forward, closing the distance between us, the scent of metal and fragrant thick in the air.

"That," she whispered, bringing the knife to my collarbone, tracing the edge without breaking skin, "is entirely up to you."

I held my breath as the blade ghosted over my skin, cold and feather-light. Paige watched me carefully, her eyes flickering with something unreadable—curiosity? Amusement? Hunger?

"You always were different," she mused, pressing just a little harder. Not enough to cut, but enough to make me aware of how close she was. "Most people beg by now. Or cry."

I swallowed, pulse hammering against the thin edge of her knife. "Maybe I’m not most people."

Her smile deepened, something wicked curling at the edges. "No," she murmured. "You’re not."

The knife slipped away as quickly as it had come, and before I could react, her fingers were on my jaw, tilting my face up to hers. I felt the warmth of her breath, the scent of something sweet.

Outside, the city hummed, oblivious to the moment unraveling in this dimly lit room. Oblivious to the way she looked at me, like she was deciding whether to kiss me or kill me.

"Tell me," she said softly, her thumb brushing against my lip, smearing something there—blood? Mine or someone else’s? "Do you want to run?"

My heart slammed against my ribs.

"Not even a little," I whispered.

Paige's grin was sharp, dangerous. "Good."

Then she kissed me.

Her lips were warm, contrasting the cold steel that had been at my throat moments ago. The taste of copper lingered between us, and I didn’t know if it was mine or hers. But none of it mattered. Not the danger. Not the bodies she’d left behind. Not the knife she still held loosely in one hand, its blade whispering promises against my side.

Paige pulled away just enough to look at me, her fingers still gripping my jaw. The intensity in her gaze made my breath hitch. It wasn’t love—it was something far more dangerous. A pull, a force, a gravity between us that neither of us seemed willing to fight.

"You should hate me," she murmured, her thumb tracing the line of my jaw.

I licked my lips, tasting her. "I should."

"And yet…" she trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the space between us.

"And yet I don’t," I admitted.

A slow exhale left her lips, something between a sigh and a laugh. "You’re a fool."

"Probably."

Paige’s breath was still warm on my lips, her fingers still lingering on my jaw, when something in her shifted. The tension between us, razor-sharp and coiled tight, snapped.

She moved first—of course she did. Paige was never the type to hesitate. One second, her grip was teasing, testing, and the next, she was pulling me into her with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs.

I barely had time to react before her mouth crashed into mine again, but this time, there was no hesitation. No teasing, no testing. Just heat. Just hunger.

Her hands were on me—one fisted in my hair, the other sliding down, nails scraping, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My back hit the nearest wall, and Paige was right there, pressing into me like she wanted to devour me whole.

The knife—God, the knife—was still in her grip, but she wasn’t using it to threaten. No, now she was trailing it along my side, the cool metal sending shivers down my spine as she kept kissing me, biting at my lips, breathing me in like I was something worth losing herself in.

“You like this,” she murmured against my mouth, her voice low, smug.

I could barely think, barely breathe, but I still managed to smirk. “And if I do?”

Paige pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes flashing with something wild. Possessive.

“Then,” she said, sliding the knife away, her now-free hand slipping under my shirt, fingers teasing against my skin, “I’ll just have to see how much you can handle.”

I swallowed hard, pulse hammering as she leaned in, lips tracing a path down my jaw, my neck, her teeth scraping just enough to make my breath hitch.

Her lips were hot against my skin, leaving traces of fire wherever they touched. She wasn’t gentle—none of this was gentle—but it felt electrifying. Every movement was deliberate, every press of her body against mine was purposeful, as if she was mapping me out, learning every inch.

Her fingers slid beneath my shirt again, more insistent this time, tugging it up just enough to expose my skin. I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding harder, my body responding despite every warning bell in my head.

"You’re not backing away," she said, voice a low rasp.

"I told you," I said, my voice catching, "I’m not like the rest."

Paige smiled, the expression shifting between something amused and something darker, a dangerous thrill. She leaned in closer, her breath mingling with mine. "I can tell."

Her lips brushed mine once more, slower this time—teasing, the barest whisper of a kiss that made me ache for more.

"You're a mess," she murmured, her fingers brushing the edge of my jaw before trailing down to my neck, her touch light and yet full of that quiet power she always had.

"So are you," I shot back, my voice hoarse.

Her grin turned wicked. "Maybe."

The tension between us thickened, the kind of tension that felt like it was going to snap any second. But for once, neither of us was in a rush. It was a slow burn, each second stretching out.

But I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care.

I leaned in again, meeting her halfway, letting the kiss deepen, feel the weight of it—because this was no longer about threats or danger. This was something else. Something that neither of us had any control over anymore.

Both of her hands landed on my hips, guiding me towards where the bed took place and pushed me down.

I barely had time to react before she was on me—her lips moving from mine, trailing down my neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear, and I couldn’t help the low groan that escaped. The mix of pain and pleasure left me reeling, my hands instinctively finding her waist, pulling her closer, like I couldn’t get enough of the heat between us.

With a swift motion, using her knife she cut my shirt off of me.

I looked at her in disbelief, now only sitting in my bra. She didn't even bat an eye. She picked it up and threw it off the bed to somewhere else.

Her eyes never left mine, cold and calculating.

She reached forward, her fingers steady as she unclasped my bra. The moment felt suspended, like time itself was holding its breath. The cool air of the room hit my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

She lifted the knife again. Placed it on my cheeks, moving it down. Along my jawline, collarbone, my chest and stopped at my lower stomach.

She took my hand and put the knife in my hands.

My fingers instinctively gripped the cold steel of the knife, its weight unfamiliar, yet oddly grounding. My heart raced, but my body remained frozen, unsure of what to do next.

Just in a brief moment, Paige pulled down my waistband, the motion swift and confident. The cool air hit me, and I felt exposed, yet there was something thrilling about the vulnerability. Her hands were gentle but firm, a subtle tension in the way she touched me, as though she were savoring the moment, each movement deliberate.

I couldn't look away as her eyes met mine—intense, daring. She leaned in, her breath warm against my neck, and whispered, “Are you ready?"

I nodded.

That's all I was able to do.

She straightened up, pulling off her black cloak. All she was wearing on top was a black nike sports bra, and on the bottom were black pants which dissapeared the second she took them off. Her nike pro boxers fitting on her thigh was just like I remembered in the summer.

GHOSTFACE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

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

☆ ━ word count: 8.3K

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

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Paige.

One word: Ready.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The pleading starts.

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

And then the first stab.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She won’t have that, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

warnings : smut (18+), Daddy kink, cunnilingus, strap-on's, throat fucking, choking (r giving + receiving), slight subspace, riding, fingering, spanking, rough sex.

summary : Alexia is on a hot streak, scoring stunner goals at the last minutes to send her country closer and closer to the finals of the Olympics but she needs her girlfriend to help her burn off all that excess energy the only way she can think of.

warnings : smut, body writing, cunnilingus, strap-on, double-ended dildos, biting, choking, anal, and our dear friend, double penetration.

summary : you've left some detailed instructions on your person for your lovers to find and follow.

this was written thanks to chappel roan, the power of lesbianism, and the one and the only @vixwritesagain because without her this fic would not exist!! this is my contribution to pride month (even though it’s over now) happy post-pride month to everyone here 🫶 hope everyone enjoys and pls lmk your thoughts!

warnings: smut minors dni 18+

“You’ll see, once we get upstairs.”

You clung to Alexia the whole walk up into the hotel. Your legs could hardly work, so she gave you the grace of turning off the vibrator in favor of being able to transfer you from the bus and into the lobby elevator. 

As soon as the doors shut her lips were plastered against your own, like much of how you’d been treated, it was rough and controlled completely by Alexia. Her teeth gripped and nipped at your bottom lip, the slight pinch making you whine, you wanted more. Alexia did the same thing she’d been doing all night, she left you desperate for more. Just as quickly as her lips were moving against yours were they gone. 

You whined from the back of your throat, but cut yourself off at the glare that Alexia sent your way, she didn’t need to say a single word, her facial expressions said it all, you had no say in what was about to happen. 

And you were slightly embarrassed to admit that, but in your hazy state of mind the embarrassment passed fairly quickly. 

When the elevator doors opened she was right back at your side again, the constant push and pull of the contact and then no contact was making your skin prickly and your throat scratchy, like needles were pushing against your insides. 

The hallway was empty, thankfully, Alexia wasted no time in dragging you behind her, your body a puppet for her to control however she intended. 

It wasn’t a long walk, your jelly legs only just managed to make it to the door of Alexia’s room. 

She scanned her keycard with a flash of her hand, and was shoving you inside of the room even quicker than that. 

You were still hazy, still pretty drunk on the feeling of submission, so it was a lot harder than usual for you to take in your surroundings. 

People, there were lots of people. 

Not so many that you felt overwhelmed, but enough that it was hard to actually focus on what the people were doing, your eyes darting back and forth between all of them. 

None of their eyes were on you, but for whatever reason, it felt that way, but there is a tension that you can feel. 

None of them are really doing, much. 

It feels like the atmosphere of the room is so stuffed full, but yet not that much is happening, it only makes your already busy headspace more confused. 

Alexia’s grab on your wrist tightens once again, and leads you directly toward a armchair, originally, you think she’s going to sit you down in it, make you wait there, make you watch whatever is clearly about to go down, but she stops you in front of the seat, slides herself in front of you and sits down. 

When she points to the ground, you don’t really hesitate. 

You drop to your knees in a unfraceful plonk, one that you know you’ll pay for tomorrow when your knees are sore and bruised from the wood floors of the hotel room. 

Alexia’s eyes are anywhere but you, it’s the same with her attention. 

You can’t see anything that’s going on around you, but it’s clear that the tension had came from everyone waiting for Alexia, waiting for some realy directions. 

You stayed kneeled in front of her, waiting patiently for whatever command she’s going to give you. 

The command never comes, instead, your emt with a brief reprieve from the constant lack of touch that your craving, when Alexia reaches down, her eyes still not meeting yours, shoving her hand back into your panties and turning the vibe back on. 

The bullet whirs to life, and the torture of it all starts once again. 

Alexia’s barking orders everywhere, ordering everyone around however she pleases. 

You still can’t even begin to comprehend the amount of silent power she holds, she could walk into any room, and all attention falls to her, everyone focuses on her. 

Especially in the team, everyone respects Alexia, it’s almost unheard of to disobey or go against Alexia, only the most confident and daring do it, and they reap the consequences of it. 

It’s always the same people, the more dominant of the group who try to compete with Alexia, and always fail, Alexia is unmatchable, she’s la reina, she is like no one else and she knows it.

She bleeds confidence, there is an aura about her that is simply undeniable. 

Up until today, you’d fawned, you’d obeyed, you’d done everything and anything to earn her praise because it felt so good. 

Having Alexia praise you, or even just look at you in a certain way was something unexplainable, it was one of the best feelings you’d ever encountered, and having Alexia want to give you pleasure, that was something completely out of your universe. It was unwordly, it was pure perfection, it was the best endorphin ever, it was as addictive as any drug. 

Yet today, you weren’t craving it, or the craving wasn’t big enough to combat the contrasting feeling you had to disobey, to fight. 

You felt more out of control than you ever had, like you were spinning out, and you needed Alexia to recenter you, but not with pleasure, with something else. 

The vibrations were hell, but Alexia’s hand on your cheek was good, her fingers in your mouth were even better. 

You weren’t even sure how they got there, it was just like, one second they were on our cheek and the next, they were forcing themselves into your mouth, not that you minded, you were very happy to sit still and suck on Alexia’s fingers. 

It was a form of validation, one that was making you weak at the knees, even though you were already on them for her. 

“Ale, por favor, dánosla y la castigaremos, la usaremos como quieras.”

Whilst you were practically deaf in your headspace, Jenni’s voice up close managed to draw your attention. 

You tried to turn your head to look at her, but Alexia’s hand in your mouth stopped you. 

“No, she’s mine, and until she accepts that she’s deserving of a reward then it’ll stay that way, comprendes?”

Jenni whines, something that most people wouldn’t have the nerve to do, but she’s one of the only people who can get away with messing with Alexia. Alexia gives everyone a inch, Jenni tries to go the mile, and often Alexia finds it more amusing then bratty. 

“But Ale, you promised rewards.”

If you whined at Alexia like that, you have no doubt she’d spank you until your ass was red and there were tears rolling down your face, with Jenni however, all she gets is a icy look and a warning. 

“Mm, rewards for goal involvements, not for you. It’s not my fault that princesa is choosing to behave poorly, we’ll just have to see if watching some other people receive their rewards managed to tip her over.” 

Your thighs clamp, in an attempt to close them at the insinuation Alexia is leaving, but her foot pushes them back apart and for the first time she glances at you. 

“Comportarse.”

Her eyes are slanted, it’s the same face that she makes when a defender lays a bad tackle against one of your teammates, the similarity is uncanny, it’s a look of discontentment and disbelief, like Alexia is offended by your action. 

“Aitana, come here.”

Alexia’s foot on your thigh pushes you slightly to the side, your head is still restrcited with the grip Alexia has on your mouth, but you’re on a angle now, and if you look in the furthest point of your peripheral you can catch some movement. 

“Look at her, puta.”

You look upwards, at Alexia and then at Aitana, who is now hovering to the side of her. 

She’s completely naked, a sight that your eyes immediately cling to. The swell of her breasts and the sight of the abs nicely tucked underneath. Your eyes raked up and down her abdomen, up to her neck, where there were a litter of darkened marks already developed. 

“Aitana is about to receive her reward, because she was a good girl, and she knows it. But you say you haven’t been a good girl, so clearly you musn’t want a reward like her, hmm? Aitana, what do you want for your reward?”

Aitana is clearly finding it hard to look at you, and you share her aversion. There’s an awkward energy filling up between the two of you, you’re in disdain and Aitana is about to get whatever she pleases. You focus on the different lines across her body, the different ways her muscles cave in and out across her body. It’s a pleasant enough distraction for the time being. 

“I-I don’t know.”

Alexia pouts at Aitana, and then smiles, for the first time since the bus you see her eyes light up with something other then annoyance directed at you. 

“Hmm, anything you want, you were such a good girl, I’m sure anybody would be happy to oblige your wishes, you just have to tell me.”

Aitana fidgets with her hands before looking up at Alexia and mumbling something that sounds like a completely alternate language. 

“Aitana, speak up, or else I might assume you want something that you haven’t asked for.”

It’s like Alexia is daring her to say it, trying to push her to edge out the words, and you know that it’ll work, Alexia always gets her way, she always has a endgame. 

Aitana mumbles again and the little smirkish smile on Alexia’s face fades. 

“Aitana, don’t make me ask you again, or else I might begin to think that you want to be treated similarly to y/n.”

Aitana stumcles over a few words before muttering out something that is comprehensible. 

“Frido and Ingrid.”

It isn’t shocking at all, Aitana tends to gravitate towards her Scandi friends, and you can’t blame her. 

“Mm, why am I not surprised? You don’t want to change it up? Want to stick to what you know best, hm?”

Aitana nods sheepishly and Alexia breaks out in another smile. 

“It’s your reward though, so if that’s what you want, then you can have it. What do you want Ingrid and Frido to do?”

Aitana stutters over her words again, but with a sharp glare from Alexia she manages to compose herself a little bit. 

“F-fuck me in both holes.”

You focus on the feeling of Alexia’s fingers in your mouth, it’s good, it’s grounding, it helps to drown out the immense pressure building up inside of you from the fucking vibrator tha was pressed directly against your clit. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that. Do you want your throat stuffed with fingers like y/n, or do you want your cunt and ass stuffed full?”

Aitana looks down at the floor, her lip between her teeth, it’s so abundantly clear that she’s struggling to vocalise what she’s wanting. 

A part of you wants her to tumble over her words again, to see what Alexia will do, and you’re slightly annoyed when she manages to compose herself. 

“M-M-My ass and pussy.”

Alexia’s lips tilt up perfectly, like she’s so proud of Aitana, but more so proud of herself. 

“Well, I suppose. You’ll have to ask both Ingrid and Frido very nicely though, although I’m sure they’ll have no issues with obliging your request.” Aitana nods, a big smile breaking out across her face, and for a second, you get a feeling in your gut, pure envy for what she’s receiving. 

But then that feeling passes and you’re left with whatever feelings you have. 

You don’t know how to define it, you’ll save that for later whne you’re spent and reflecting on this whole night, maybe tomorrow morning on the plane. 

Aitana thanks Alexia meekly, like she’s waiting for approval to leave. 

“Puta, look at Aitana, look at how easy it is to behave and be a good girl, hmm? She asked me for something and I gave it to her, because she deserves it, and she knows it. A few words and you could have whatever you want. I could turn the vibrator off, you could go play with Lucia, or Jenni, or Keira, or Mapi or me. It’s so easy, bebita.”

She draws the final sentence out, like she’s dangling the idea of release directly in front of you, and technically, she is. 

You shake your head though, holding out on the strong and defiant front that you’re using to shield yourself from the desire inside of you that is fighting to be released. 

It’s in your defiance that you realise in the time you’d been watching Aitana, Alexia has managed to undress herself down to a red lacy thong that makes your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull. Aitana’s abs are something, but Alexia’s almost make your drool, and her breasts are something else. 

Alexia caresses the underside of your chin with her thumb, pulling your attention from her body. She’s trying to push the two fingers in your mouth as deep as she can, when you gag, she only pushes further. 

“Such a shame, you’re really only depriving yourself here. I was going to have so much fun with you, Lucia was going to have so much fun with you. I suppose she’ll only be able to have fun with Ona now, considering Keira’s preoccupied.”

The sound of a strangled moan, Jenni’s if your ears are right, make the torture of this whole scenario ten times worse. 

The mention of Ona makes your blood boil. Normally, this whole situation is a complete role reversal for you and Ona. Normally, Ona’s the defiant one, the masochist, the brat, the pushy one. Ona enjoys getting on peoples nerves, she enjoys to tick people off, she gets off on it. 

You can’t say you feel the same, Ona craves the rush of endorphins from being reprimanded and punished. You enjoy it as well, but you don’t crave it how she does. You don’t brat for fun, like she does, it doesn’t come naturally to you like it does for her. 

Alexia knows it, she knows that the only reason you’re being a brat is because you’re trying to punish yourself and that’s why she refuses to actually punish you. When Ona brats, she’s searching for attention, it’s her way of admitting she wants something because it’s too hard for her to say it. For you, with a little bit of push and shove you’ll normally ask for whatever it is you need, you don’t feel the need to act out. 

So Alexia decides she’s prepared to play this game with you, she’s not punishing you in her eyes, she’s just pushing you. She’s just as desperate as you are to shower you with the attention you deserve, but not until you know that you deserve it, and she’s determined to make sure that you know exactly how much you do deserve it. 

“Puta, strip, I want you naked as you watched the show.”

Alexia pulls her fingers out of your mouth, stopping halfway to pop the inside of your cheek, breaking you out of the trance you’re in. 

You whine at the loss of the silent comfort you’d had. Alexia’s fingers had been a silent reminder of the whole situation you were in. It had calmed you down, made it all a little bit easier, and now they were gone. 

“Now, up.”

You stood up under her orders, ignoring the soreness throughout your legs and knees. 

You slipped of your sweatpants first, folding them up nicely and placing them down on the coffee table next to Alexia’s armchair. 

Your kept eye contact with her the whole time, too scared that if you looked anywhere else you’d be in more trouble. 

You followed with your hoodie, then your shirt, then your socks, then your bra and finally your panties. 

Alexia grabbed the bullet before it was able to fall anywhere, turning it off before placing it down on the table next to your neat pile of clothes. 

You sighed at the feeling of inally not being directly on the edge for the first time in what felt like forever. You were still aroused, but nowhere near as despairingly so. 

“Don’t feel so relieved, if you thought that was hard, you have no idea what’s coming.”

Alexia looked you up and down before pointing back down at the ground, a silent order. You appeased her demand, sinking back down onto your knees just how you had before, this time a little bit more gracefully in an attempt to try and preserve your knees. 

“You’re going to create a puddle on the floor with all that arousal, and to think, I could have had somebody clean it you up if you were behaving.”

You nearly moaned at the idea, god you were embarrassingly desperate. 

“Turn around for me, and watch Ona.”

You did as Alexia asked, turning around, and shivering when her arms caught your shoulder, tugging your head back, until your neck was flat against the front of the seat, and your head was resting on the inside of her thigh. 

She reached her feet over your shoulders, tugging your legs back open, as far open as they could go. 

All whilst you watched on, your eyes nearly bulgin out of your head at all of the new visual intake. 

You were in a more stable headspace to handle it all now, but it didn’t make it any easier to figure out. 

You went through it all slowly, starting with the first people who caught your eyes. 

Jenni and Mapi. 

Jenni and Mapi, fuck. 

Alexia hadn’t been lying when she said you were in for so much worse than just the vibrator. 

Mapi and Jenni were together, on a couch to the side of the room, not unlike the armchair Alexia was sitting on, just a lot longer and bigger, like it was made to be more of a sofa bed then a couch. 

Mapi was on her back lying on the couch. If it wasn’t for the little bleach blonde ends peaking out against the cushions then you wouldn’t even know it was her because Jenni was covering pretty much her whole body. 

Jenni was couch over the top of her, sitting on top of Mapi’s face, her own face hovering over Mapi’s pussy. 

It was a beautiful sight, all encapsulated by the wink and massive grin that Jenni sent you when she caught your eyes from across the room. 

It wasn’t the best part though, by far the best part was Keira sitting at the top of the couch in front of Jenni, perched on the arm of the couch, her hand stuffed down the front of her shorts. 

Keira was anything but quiet, keeping eye contact with Jenni as she touched herself. 

“Alexia, let her have a turn.”

Jenni looked at you, like she was trying to reinforce the fact that you were missing out big time. 

Alexia’s hot breath in your ear stole your attention. 

“Don’t you want that?”

You shook your head. 

Alexia’s hand snaked down the front of your chest, taking hold of your right nipple and making a sharp tug, one that had you keening with the unexpected pain.

“I think you’re lying.”

You shook your head again, Alexia’s words wwere getting to your head, the feeling of her on you but not really on you was messing with your head, making all of the different chemicals mix together. 

“Didn’t anybody ever teach you that lying’s bad? It’s okay to admit you want something, I’m not giving it to you until you admit what I need you to.”

You bit down on your lip at the third tug, Alexia’s fingertips ghosting over your now hard nipple, before deserting it completely. 

She snaked her hand back up your chest, her index finger tracing the hollow of your collarbone, before gravitating up to your chin and tilting it away from Mapi and Jenni, onto one of the queen mattresses in the room. 

Lucy and Ona. 

Fucking smug, bitchy Ona. 

She was on her knees up the front of the bed, her head and naked chest pushed straight into the white sheets of the hotel bed.

Even with Lucy pounding into her from behind, naked from the waist down and only wearing her sports bra, she still managed to muster up the strength to send a condescending wink your way. 

It was undeniable the way that Ona’s presence affected you, it felt like it was just you and her in the room, as you shared eye contact that held so much power. 

“Do you want to be where Oni is? Bent over and in absolutely no control?”

You shake your head, it’s a honest answer, because in this moment you don’t. Whilst what Ona is experiencing looks incredible, it’s not what you’re yearning for, and watching her makes you certain of that. You don’t know what it is you do want, but it isn’t that. 

“Mm, okay, if not that, how about Aitana?”

She turns your chin the rest of the way, to the other queen bed in the room. 

Aitana is a whole other sight, your eyes fall to the same muscles that you’d been previously appreciating, and then to everything around her. 

You know why she picked Ingrid and Frido, because just the sight of the two of them is so erotic that the shivers that it sends down your spine. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re going to leave a puddle behind whenever Alexia lets you up. 

Watching Aitana laid directly on top of Ingrid, Ingrid pumping her hips up and down, in and out of Aitana’s pussy. Frido is hovering from above, her hands palming Aitana’s ass as she thrusts in and out of Aitana’s ass, at a more regular pace. There is sunshine and midnight coloured hair shadowing it all, Ingrid and Frido are all over her, their hands, their bodies, their hair, just them. Aitana is caged in by them, and she looks glorious whilst doing it. 

“Is that what you want? To be used by two other people until you don’t remember what day it is. You can have it, if you want it, anyone here would give it to you.”

You shake your head once again, Alexia’s hand moves it’s way down from your chin, snaking down to your neck, and squeezing it for just long enough that you begin to feel the pressure. 

“You don’t want that, you don’t want what Ona has, you don’t want what Jenni has?”

You shake your head, Alexia’s hand possessive along your throat. 

She uses it to maneuver you back to facing her, her hand drawing your head up until you meet her eyes. 

“You don’t want what they have, you don’t want to admit that you deserve to have that, you don’t even want to admit you had a good game.”

You look at Alexia, indifferent. 

“You might as well go back to your room for the night if you don’t want anything from me.”

Alexia’s teasing you, baiting you, and you know it, but her tricks work on you all the same. 

It must be the way your eyebrow crinkles, or your lips quiver, or your throat bobs underneath her hand. Either way, you know she picks up on whatever tell it is that you let off. 

“So you do want something from me?”

Alexia’s hand secures itself to the middle of your neck, her hand’s large enough that it stretches from the base of your throat to the top, her fingers are close to being able to wrap fully around it. When she flexes them, the veins pop against your skin, and you swear that you almost see stars. 

When she tightens it, you almost moan on default. 

“So tell me then, what do you want?”

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

don't hate me for leaving it on a cliff hanger... trust me... the delayed gratification will be worth it! for now I'm just happy I managed to write something and post it for you guys. anyways I'm going to retreat into my cave now! PLEASE let me know your thoughts and PLEASE leave whatever reblogs, likes and comments you can, love y'all and hoped you enjoyed !!

Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Child!R (who has Autism)

A/N: I hope this makes sense and isn't confusing. I also hope I did it justice in terms of the Autism side of things. Let me know what you think. (Also I know there were requests for a Teen!R with Autism but I'm still trying to get more solid ideas for that and decide whether I actually want to write that, so for now here is this)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie’s new strap arrives and she tests it out on you.

Warning: Smut! Big strap, size kink, praise kink, soft dom/sub, language.

A/N: Size kink request. Did my best! Bit of a muscle fixation, Jessie manhandling reader. Reader taking a large strap.

Credit to @stargirlsfc for the gif

"Guess what just arrived?"

Jessie came around the corner holding up a box. You shot up on your knees on the couch, leaning over the arm of it as your eyes lit up. She propped the box on her hip, eyeing you and up down and spoke before you could say anything.

"I'm going to be fucking you like that before the night is out."

Your bright-eyed smile turned into a wicked smirk.

"Is that so? That's pretty bold of you to assume," you taunted.

"Pretty bold of you to tease me, too," she returned as she set down the box and strode over to you. Your smile widened as she approached.

A small yelp escaped you as she effortlessly lifted you off the couch and over her shoulder, holding you in place by your legs. She walked you both into the middle of the room and you couldn't help yourself from squeezing her ass as she did.

It was no secret that you loved her muscles and the way she could manhandle you whenever she felt like it. You knew she'd never hurt you, and being at her whim and mercy did things to you.

When she gently set you down on your feet and straightened back up to see your face, she was met with an excited grin. You quickly leaned in, cupping her cheeks with your hands and giving her a kiss. She grinned back at you.

"For you," she announced as she handed you the package. You opened it and revealed the new strap you'd purchased together. You bit your lip before looking up at her. She had her hands on her hips and she surveyed you with a smirk.

"Sure you can take all of that, baby?" She asked with a mix of wonder and teasing.

"Is that a challenge?" You asked impishly as you pulled it from the box and wrapped your hand around the base before locking eyes with her once more.

"Mm, I'll make sure you're good and ready," she said. "I know my baby can take it." She leaned down and kissed the side of your neck before pulling back. "Wait here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

True to her word, Jessie returned a few minutes later. Except this time, when she rounded the corner she was down to her boxers, which had a very noticeable bulge. You bit your lip in anticipation once more as she walked towards you.

You immediately placed a hand on her bulge as she came up to you and you smiled through a breathy laugh.

“Excited to see me?” You teased.

“Always,” Jessie replied without missing a beat.

"You're so big," you said as you leaned in to kiss her.

She chuckled lightly and returned your kiss. "And it's only for you."

Without any further warning, she lifted you up, guiding your legs to lock around her waist, and she walked you towards the edge of the room until your back was against the wall.

You rest your head against the wall and looked down at her as she held you steady, her biceps popping in her tank top. You squeezed them appreciatively.

"God, you look good," you told her and she flexed them further under your grip. You let out a small moan.

You felt her dig her fingers into the bottoms of your thighs, spreading your legs further momentarily as she rolled her hips up against your center, the strap pressing against you for a moment. A clipped moan escaped you at the fleeting touch.

"Mm, I can't wait to see the way you take me," she said as she kneaded your thighs and began kissing your collarbone. "The way you'll stretch out around me."

Another moan formed in your chest as you tilted your head back and tried to pull her closer.

"You're going to fill me so good," you told her. She rolled her hips up into you again.

"I know, baby. And you take me so well."

You ground yourself down into her, the strap rubbing you through the fabric and you could feel your arousal starting to pool already.

"Wish I could fuck you like this whenever I wanted. Just slip inside you whenever I like."

You moaned as you kissed her deeply, wrapping your arms around her strong shoulders. You rocked your hips against the strap. "Mm, I'd love that. And I'd let you take me whenever you like."

"God, you're too good," she muttered as continued to press herself into you, providing you with friction and temporary relief, but making you desperate for more.

She set you down, a small whimper escaping you at the loss of contact, but began to undo your jeans. She reached her hand past the band of your panties and towards your radiating heat. She grinned as her fingers were met with your slick juices and a needy moan worked its way up your throat.

"Mm, so wet for me already,” she said, blatantly pleased.

You kissed her deeply as you moved with her fingers. “How could I not be?”

“Well let’s give you what you need,” Jessie said as she took a step back and gave you a nod. You gave a coy smile, knowing what she wanted.

You hooked your fingers over the band of your jeans and rocked your hips gently from side to side as you slowly and sensually shimmied them down your legs. You gave a self-satisfied smile at the way she watched you hungrily.

“Where do you want me?” You asked, a lilt in your voice.

“Over here, beautiful,” she said as she reached out a hand, taking yours and guiding you back to your earlier position on the couch. You leaned over the arm of the couch, pushing your ass out teasingly as you looked over your shoulder at her.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” she said as she ran a hand appreciatively up your thigh before gripping your ass. “And look at this,” she tut as she ran two thick fingers along your slit through the fabric of your panties. “Soaked right through.”

“Ruined just for you,” you said. A gleam in her eye caught your attention.

“Ruined?” She asked with a slight cock of her head. She brought up her other hand to your panties and suddenly you saw her forearms flex and the sound of fabric ripping filled the room.

Your jaw fell as she ran her fingers through your folds, now unobstructed by the fabric. A thrill went through you and you let out a laugh both bewildered and excited. She caught your eye and gave you a smirk.

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” you assured her with a smile, subconsciously pushing your hips back towards her.

“So eager,” she commented as she pulled her strap through the slit in her boxers, running her hand up and down the length of it as she knelt one knee on the couch cushion. She gripped your hips, lifting you up and shifting you over a bit to better line herself up behind you.

“Mm, you are beyond beautiful,” she said in awe as she looked you over. The glistening of your wetness in the light caused her own arousal to pool further.

She gripped the strap and shifted her hips forward so the tip was positioned at your entrance. She smirked at the small moan you let out at the initial contact.

Her eyes were trained squarely on you as she carefully pushed forward. She bit her lip as you slowly start to spread, your entrance gripping the tip of her strap tightly. She took her time as she entered you, subtly pulling in and out to lube up appropriately and give you time to adjust.

“God, you’re incredible,” Jessie breathed as she watched in amazement as the “O” of your lips gradually grew larger as you swallowed more and more of her strap. “I can’t believe you can take all of this.”

“Mm, you fill me so good,” you affirmed, giving a slight roll of your hips. A crack echoed through the room as she slapped your ass, pulling a short moan from you.

Jessie let out a soft grunt as she finally sunk into you to the base. “You look so good with me stretching you out like this, baby girl.”

She gave a low moan as she saw you flex around her. She gripped your ass cheeks hard, flesh pushing up between her fingers and leaving faint prints as she released you.

She slowly pulled out so it was just the tip. You let out a mewling moan as she sunk back in.

“Such a good girl,” she praised as she ran a hand along the small of your back and drawing another needy whine from you.

“You’re so deep.”

“Just where I want to be,” Jessie said as she gripped your hips. She stayed in place for a couple of seconds longer before pulling out to the tip once more and this time thrusting to the hilt with greater force. She paused to caress you. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “I will. ‘Til then,” you rolled your hips back into her, “do what you want with me.”

Immediately, Jessie pulled out and slammed her hips back into you, drawing a heady whimper out of you. She then started pumping into you, adjusting her grip on your hips and pulling you back to meet her thrusts. The room was filled with the sound of her hips colliding into you as she began to rail you.

“You are dripping wet, baby,” Jessie said, voice shuddering as she thrust rapidly into you. She let out a huff of a laugh at how your mouth was slightly agape, head thrown back and unable to speak. “You’re taking this big cock so well, my girl.”

All you could do was reciprocate with a high moan.

Before you knew it, Jessie pushed you forward, pressing you into the arm of the couch as she hunched over you and started fucking you harder.

You braced your hands on the floor as she had you draped and folded over this couch as she rammed into you. Waves of pleasure radiated throughout your body with each stroke. Alternating sensations rushed through you, hollow wanting every time she pulled out, then quickly replaced with immense satisfaction as she filled you deeply to the brim.

A desperate whimper came from you as suddenly the warmth and weight of Jessie’s body on your back was gone, and she pulled out of you completely with a pop.

You snapped your head behind to look and saw her stand up off the couch momentarily, cheeks red and forehead beaded with sweat. Your eyes were drawn to her strap that glistened with your cum, a ring of it evident at the base of it, too.

She reached down wordlessly, grabbing you by the waist to pull you up. She sat down on the couch, legs splayed and her boxers pulled tight around her muscular thighs. She saw the way you eyed her and she flexed her thighs as she readjusted, giving you a wink.

She jerked the strap up and down, spreading your arousal over it further.

“I want you to ride me,” she told you and you straddled her requiring no further instruction, bracing yourself on her firm shoulders. She held the strap in place as you began to slowly lower yourself onto it.

You smiled at how her eyes glazed over as she watched the strap disappear inside of you. Your head fell back and your throat opened with a low moan as it filled you. She kneaded your thighs as you rest for a moment, getting used to the feeling again.

When you were ready, you lifted yourself up, eyes closing at the sensation going through you. Soon, you began rising and lowering yourself steadily on the strap.

“God, yes,” she breathed as her gaze shifted between the strap and your face. Her words fuelled you and you quickened your pace. Her jaw was slack and she breathed and watched you in reverie. “You look so good riding me like this.”

You held onto her shoulders as you moved, rolling your hips as you lowered yourself, grinding into her lap and soaking her boxers with your arousal.

You continued for a while but soon your thighs began to burn from the effort. Your legs shook at one point and she moved her hands from your waist and under you instead. She held you in her hands, fingers splaying across your ass cheeks and began lifting you up and down, letting you guide the pace.

Your eyes fell to her biceps, mesmerized by the way her muscles popped each time she lifted you.

“You like watching me, baby? Like the way I bounce you up and down on my cock?”

A whimper fell from your mouth. People would be shocked to know she spoke like this in bed, but that’s part of what drove you wild. She grinned at you as she bounced you up and down further, her now doing almost all the work as your legs gave out.

At one point, she lifted you and held you there as she simply started jackhammering into you. A long, wailing moan came from you as she used you and soon your moan became a cry as you began to spasm around her.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she breathed as she continued to thrust into you and carry you through your orgasm.

When the waves of pleasure began to dissipate, you collapsed against her, her strap still filling and stretching you out. Her arms were quick to wrap around you and hold you to her. She peppered lingering kisses along your temple and rubbed your back as your chest heaved up and down.

She whispered to you as you recovered, but when you finally went to move your legs shook and gave out once more. She chuckled and kissed your cheek before lifting you off of her and gently setting you down next to her. You winced.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she offered with a wince. You gave a slow shake of your head, still exhausted. You took a breath, having to be focused and intentional as you spoke.

“Don’t be.” You swallowed, your mouth dry. “I love when you fuck me that good.”

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: You and Fluffles

the build up to the second barca orgy

-> pt.1

warnings: smut minors dni 18+

“Your choice nena, you want to come it’s all you have to say.”

You felt like your jaw was clamped shut, like there were no words left in your throat for you to say.

Keira, looked a little bit frightened, she wasn’t a defiant person, she was the pure opposite. It was funny, because her and Ona were such stark opposites, and yet they worked so perfectly together with Lucy. You weren;t normally defiant, but you were pushing swayed right now, especially with the way Alexia was looking at you, like she was daring you to push her, daring you to see what would happen if you disobeyed, daring you to test her. 

You shook your head and you instantly regretted it. 

Keira’s hand stopped, Alexia looked furious, and you could feel the eyes of everybody on the bus focus on you. 

You, were Alexia’s good girl. Her little protegee, her baby. You were taunted for it constantly, the way that the captain could tell you do anything and you’d follow her order. She was Alexia, there was a deeply ingrained respect for her in you that prevented you from going against her word, but your brain was short circuiting, and you could hardly think. 

“Keira, up.”

Alexia pulled herself up from her own seat, pointing down at the seat she had previously been sitting in beside Aitana. 

Keira followed her order without any second thoughts, standing up and shuffling past Alexia to sit down next to her bestfriend. 

Having Alexia box you in was terrifying, her whole body faced towards you, and you could grasp from her body language that she wasn’t pleased with you. You were such a whore for praise, constantly craving it, and at the realisation you definitely weren’t going to be receiving it you were reeling. You were to blame, you’d inadvertently disobeyed Alexia, and you couldn’t expect that she wouldn’t be ticked off by it. You think that backwardsly, you might have been craving the flipside of your captain that you’d never experienced firsthand, that maybe you’d received so much praise that it was starting to get sickening, that you needed something else to make you forget all of the feelings in your gut that the praise no longer fixed.

“You want to be defiant, hm? That’s fine, I’m happy to wait out, much happier then I assume you will be. You’ll learn, they all do.”

Alexia’s hand reached into a bag that she’d pulled across with her, your eyes staying completing focused in on her the whole time. 

She found whatever she was searching for, tucking it into the pocket of her palm before turning her eyes back to you.

Her free hand reached out, grabbing onto the tresses of hair at the back of your neck and pulling down, yanking your head and manipulating it to how she wanted. 

It made it much harder to try and hide yourself away from the crowd of your teammates who were seated on the bus, your head no longer tucked into the corner, instead your eyes and face on show for anyone in your line of sight. 

Her breath was hot against your neck, the sensation of her puffs of air against your neck had goosebumps raising along the skin, little dots appearing all over your skin. 

“You want to be a brat, hmm? That’s okay, I know how to deal with brats. It’s not hard, all you have to admit is what we all know, that you were such a good girl today, that you performed so well, but if you aren’t prepared to admit it then we’ll have to teach you.”

Alexia’s hand reached straight down and underneath your sweatpants, her fingers diving underneath the line of your panties without any trepidation. 

“Such a whore, so fucking soaked when you haven’t even been touched properly. Keira got you all hot and bothered, hmm? You’re a fucking slut, getting worked up on a bus filled with your teammates.”

You tried to breathe your way through it all, tried to remind yourself to breathe in and out of your nose and mouth, your brain was disconnecting though and it was getting hard to even think. 

Alexia’s fingers, and something solid but soft raked their way inbetween your lips, collecting up all of the embarrassing arousal that had pooled together. 

If you had enough brain space to feel embarrassed you probably would be a little bit ashamed, but you didn’t have the capacity to focus on Alexia, let alone any feelings related to her actions. 

A few more strokes, and then you were met with a buzz that had your hips jerking immediately. 

Alexia’s fingers, pushed a bullet straight against your clit, the silicone vibe being lodged inbetween your folds and tucked directly under the hood of your clit, nestled directly against your most sensitive spot. 

“Feel that bebita, you’ll be feeling the same thing all night, without any relief, until you say those simple words and you’ll cave eventually. I don’t lose, especially not to brats who think that they know better. Good girls get rewards, brats get to sit to the side with a vibe pressed to their clit until they lose their minds. Have it your way or mine, I’ll be here when you’re ready to be a good girl again.”

Alexia was breathing straight down your neck, her words murmuring against your skin, before she was letting go of your hair and sitting up straight. 

And just like that, Alexia was turning away from you, her eyes swivelling to Lucy, who looked slightly in awe of her captains actions. Alexia got straight into conversation with your English companion, paying absolutely zero mind to the suffering that you were going through beside her as you were able to truly appreciate the feeling of the vibe. 

It was torturous, the vibe buzzing at a high enough level to keep you stuck on the edge, but not quite high enough to push you over the edge without some kind of extra stimulation. Alexia knew what she was doing, and that terrified you. 

Alexia’s palm flattened itself against your stomach, preventing you from grinding your hips. Squirming and moving made it worse, you learnt very quickly. You were forced to stay as still as your body would allow, which wasn’t very still. 

Every movement, every stop of the bus, every single tiny movement made it all ten times worse, the vibrator rocking hard against your clit. 

Alexia paid you zero attention, besides sending a glare your way every time a noise left your mouth, it was clear, that you had absolutely no say in what was happening until you said the words that she wanted you too. 

You wanted too, but you were also aware of how wet you were, and how enthralled you were about the chance of experiencing something that you’d never felt before. You’d had a lot of sex during your time at Barca, a lot of sex. But none of it had been like this, everyone always expected you to be the perfect sub, Alexia’s little bitch who would roll over at her beck and call, and you liked it that way. But the arousal between your legs and the adrenaline coursing through you veins told another story, you were enjoying this, a little bit more than you’d thought. 

You wanted to give in, to have Alexia all over you once again, showering you with her adoration, but, you figured there wasn’t any pain in holding out until you got to your limit. 

You found your eyes on Ona, who you could tell must have been in a similarly compromising situation to you, her head tilted back into Lucy’s neck, it was a weird sort of flip situation, seeing Ona being treated how you normally would be, and you being treated how she normally would. 

It was no secret that Ona was a pain slut, hell, most of your teammates capitalised on it. Ona was happiest when she was being humiliated, when she was being punished, when she was being degraded. It’s why Lucy and her had taken to each other with such ease. There was a perfect balance between Keira, Lucy and Ona, this weird harmony that even they couldn’t explain. 

Ona’s hips were bouncing against the table, no doubt bruising her bones, not that she seemed to care at all. Every once in a while her eyes would open, almost bulging out of her sockets, but even with her disfocus she was able to meet your own eyeline, a cheshire like smirk settling across her lips. 

Ona, more than anything, was a fucking brat. 

She enjoyed ticking people off, getting on their nerves, getting under peoples skin. She’d sacrificed getting under Lucy’s skin in favour of getting her reward, being complacent in Lucy’s treat. But that meant that you’d clearly become the target of her constant need to be aggravating somebody. “Poor thing, isn’t she so cute Lucia, all puffy and bothered.”

You glared at Ona, Alexia’s hand on your stomach keeping you still, even as you tried to push up against her to put yourself in a more dignified position, in comparison to the pathetic one you were in. 

“She is quite cute, I was hoping she’d be a good girl. Kei was so desperate to give her a good reward, but I fear that until she learns how to behave that we might need a rain check.”

You tried to say something, but a pointed glare from Alexia kept you silenced. 

“Give it a couple of minutes, I doubt she’ll be able to hold out.”

What you hadn’t realised yet, was the reverse psychology that Alexia was using on you. Alexia knew, that you wouldn’t ever back down from a challenge, especially when somebody insinuated you weren’t capable of doing something. Alexia, was intentionally, trying to coax out your bratty side, and you had absolutely no clue, you were playing right into her trap. Alexia loved having you as her good girl, she loved it, but she also wanted something else as her reward tonight, a challenge. 

“You close bebita?”

You shook your head, you were so close and yet nowhere near. You wished that you were close, but you needed more than what Alexia was giving you to get anywhere near. 

“Are you sure?”

Alexia feined a pout, she was searching for a reaction and you were far gone but not far gone enough to keep enough of your self-control to keep Alexia ticking slightly. If she wanted to keep you on your toes then you could do the exact same. 

“That’s a shame, I would have maybe let you cum here on the bus, make a real scene of yourself. But we’re so close to the hotel, and if you’re not close then I guess we’ll just have to see how long it’ll take you.”

Alexia’s smirk is buried into her cheeks, like a tattoo. She’s proud of herself clearly, and you’re inbetween giving in or staying stubborn. 

Ultimately, you’ve already dug yourself a deep hole, you don’t see any point in trying to redeem yourself now, knowing that she’ll end up using your release against you in some way. 

You close your eyes, just so that you don’t have to see Alexia’s face, instead your left with the picture of her stupid smirk across your mind. 

When Alexia’s hand finds its way back to your neck you shiver, it’s undeniable how under her control you truly are. 

“C’mon bebita, admit it, I’ll go easy on you, I’ll even let you have some fun, all of this can stop if you just give in.”

You kept your eyes shut, allowing Alexia to manipulate your head with her hand, and her breath to run along the column of your neck. You were getting closer from the sensations she was giving you then the sensation of the vibrations against your clit, you knew it, Alexia knew it, hell, everyone in the bus could probably see it. 

Everyone. 

You were in a bus full of your teammates, acting and being treated like a complete whore. 

Exhibitionism hadn’t ever been something you’d been directly attracted to, around strangers, it gave you more anxiety than anything, but something about this, all of your closest friends knowing exactly what was happening, it made you wetter than you’d possibly ever been. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

You kept repeating it, like it was a mantra, a reminder to yourself that none of it was affecting you, that your brain was lying, that everything was normal. 

You thought about your happy places. The beaches in Barcelona, the coffee shop around the corner from your apartment, wembley, english rain, nights in your bed… on your couch. 

“Can you teach me how to break her brain like this, before we go back to England camp? I need something for my entertainment, and to keep Kei from pouncing on our other teammates throughout the day.”

It took everything in you to not reach across the table and choke out Lucy, you could hear Ona struggling to muffle her giggles, it was all infuriating. 

“Oh it’s not hard, doesn’t take much to make you fuzzy, does it bebita?”

There were too many voices, to much happening, you were floating off and you didn’t really find yourself minding. 

You were fine, you were fine. 

Beaches, barcelona, coffee, apartment, wembley, rain, bed, couch. 

It kept rewinding in your brain, over and over again, happy place, happy place, happy place. You didn’t mind the feeling of drifting off, it was good, it felt good leaning into it all, it made it all far more manageable, Alexia’s touch felt warm, your whole body felt warm, a good warm buzz. 

Her voice fell into the warmth, everything around you did. The buzz against you felt good, it all felt good and even if you were borderline on the edge, it didn’t really matter. 

You were buzzed off of the mixture of hormones flooding your system and it was simply sensational. 

You let the drunken feeling wash over you, the embarrassment, the pressure, the stress, the anger, it all faded, you were clinging to the feeling like it was a life raft in the middle of the open ocean. 

It was so good, it didn’t matter if you’d had a shocking performance on the pitch, it didn’t matter that you were misbehaving, it didn’t matter that you were being edged in the middle of a team bus, it didn’t matter that you had Ona taunting you from across you experiencing her own pleasure. It didn’t matter that Keira was a couple of seats away from you, probably pining to wring the pleasure out of somebody else, preferably you. It didn’t matter that Lucy was across from you, winding Alexia up. 

It didn’t matter that Alexia was focusing all of her energy on making sure that she won the ‘challenge’ that she’d set herself. It didn’t matter that you were in a bus full of the most competitively driven people alive who were determined to absolutely ruin eachother when you made it back to the hotel. 

“Bebita, come back to me, I’ve got you, come back to me.”

Beaches, Barcelona, coffee, apartment, wembley, rain, bed, couch. 

You’re fine, You’re fine. 

“C’mon bebita, it’s time to go, time to come back down.”

You struggled to open your eyes, they were scrunched together so tight that it was hard to pull them apart. 

Alexia’s hands were no longer on your neck, or nestled in your hair, they were resting in your own hands, squeezing every few seconds. 

“There’s my girl.”

You struggled to keep your eyes on Alexia’s for long periods of time, it was so hard to blink, and it took a lot more energy for you to open your eyes after closing them every few seconds. 

“You’re deep, aren’t you? You feeling okay, safe?”

You nodded your head, keeping your eyes closed when blinking became too much. 

You felt like your whole body was vibrating with the toy pressed against you, like it was pressed to every organ inside of you instead of the one sensitive spot between your legs. 

“You know I need a verbal response, chica.”

You tried to get as much of your energy together. 

“Feel fine.”

It was the same mantra, but it worked just fine. 

“Mm, what colour are you, do you want to keep playing or do you want to call it? Because I know that there is a hotel room upstairs waiting for us, if you so desire.”

The warmth washed over you all again, your eyes forcing themselves open at the realisation of what Alexia was saying set in. 

“Green, so green, green as grass.”

Alexia chuckled, a little giggle that made the fuzziness feel even better. 

“Green as grass, that’s new. You’re so cute like this, when you’re in your own little world. It makes me want to take you all for myself, draw orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re so broken you can’t say your own name, but you chose to be naughty, so I suppose we’ll both have to suffer.”

In the period of twenty seconds you felt your heart soar and then plummet. All you heard were the words orgasm, broken, naughty and suffer. 

“Please, Alexia.”

She chuckled again, this time with a little bit of sadism mixed in with it. 

“You chose to disobey me, you can safeword or else we’re going to go upstairs and join some of our friends, you know what it’ll take for me to do exactly as you please, it’s up to you whether you decide to admit it or not. Until then, I think it’s about time we started to move, or else you might just melt into the seats.”

You glared as well as you could at Alexia, although you imagined it looked more like your face had been upturned slightly. 

“Friends?”

Alexia and her stupid fucking smirk. 

“You’ll see, once we get upstairs.”

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I know this isn't perhaps what y'all where expecting but I promise, the fuck fest is coming but I just can't not write context lol it makes it all so much better in the end.

a big big big big thank you to the queen herself @vixwritesagain without her beautiful brainrot this fic would not exist, she has a wonderfully dirty brain that i am obsessed with

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You don't like it

TW: aftermath of rough sex, no aftercare, depressive thoughts

McFoord x Toddler!Reader

Summary: You're being suspicious

alexia x jenni x leila x reader a celebration is in order after leila makes her return to the national team. smut, 18+. part of the rush verse... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here authors note: this is very much a co-written fic. it would not be what it is without @vixwritesagain. i can't really say enough about how incredibly & insanely talented vix is. however good you think she is, multiply it by like 10. and you'll feel how i feel after watching her write in real time. for every comment you leave, you better take your horny asses over to vix's inbox and give her all the love. <3

part 1 alexia x jenni x leila x reader. jenni and alexia try to share smut, 18+. part of the rush verse @vixwritesagain ... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here

mapi and ingrid invite you to join them.

Genre ~ smut

Pairing ~ Alexia Putellas x reader, Jenni Hermoso x reader

Warnings~ squirting, strap on sex, fingering, voyeurism,anal,daddy! Jenni, switch! Alexia, sub! Reader and Google translated Spanish.

Part 2 of just watch

Alexia watched in silence as she felt she was experiencing some form of torture while jenni brought you to your third orgasm of the night. Though envious, she couldn't help but take in the beauty of you. Your skin glistened with sweat, your back created the perfect arch to allow the faux cock to enter deeper inside of you drawing pornographic moans from your swollen lips and creating an endless stream of nectar from the blondes pussy.

The slick covering and flowing down her thighs almost created a puddle at the soul of her feet, and as much as her core needed attention all the blonde captain wanted more at the moment was to be at service to your body the way her brunette lover was and the thought causes a pathetic whimper to pass her lips.

Jenni pauses all movements and gently removes herself from you, and despite your pleasure, a sound of relief leaves you. Jenni looked over at the still bond blonde and softened a little before freeing her of her confinement.

Alexia wasted no time once she was free to bring your sweaty body into hers, back to her front. Her nose buried into your neck inhaling the scent of your sweat and faint perfume. Jenni took alexia's place on the chair allowing the blonde her access to you, feeling she'd had made her suffer enough.

Hands roamed your body innocently, taking in each curve and grounding alexia again before both hands cup your breasts kneading gently pointer fingers, giving attention to your perked nipples. Your sweet sounds and hushed breath making your lover drip further.

Alexia craned your neck in an awkward angle to bring your lips together, her swallowing your moans when one of her arms trailed down your stomach until it rested on your core unmoving. The heat from her sizeable hand has you unconsciously grinding to create some form of friction.

In need as much as you are, alexia allowed two fingers to slip into you. The previous orgasmes helped her to easily slip in and out of you. It's no secret that both of your girls are incredibly talented with their hands, so when alexia entres another digit, hitting that velvety spot inside of you while her thumb gives attention to your clit orgasm number 4 comes quickly.

Jenni's and your moans mix around the room, causing both of you to take in the brunette riding out her high hips, grinding in circular motion on the very dildo she used on you earlier Once calm, darken green eyes stayed firmly on the both or you as she removed the toy a trail slick keeping them connected.

Alexia gently lays your body down on the bed and then crawled gently towards her seated girlfriend whose legs still pulsed, coming down from her own orgasm with a predatory gaze. The blonde takes dildo licking it clean tossing it carelessly before wrapping her lips around jenni's swollen clit sucking lightly then cleaning up every drop flowing from the taller girl.

"I think bebita can handle us both before we settle down for the night, no?"

Jenni looks over at your marked up figure, staring blissfully at the ceiling before smirking at her girl still on her knees between her legs.

"Si, but before I want that talent mouth of yours on me."

Alexia wasted no time before jenni's cunt is in her mouth eating her out lavishly nothing but the thought of you being double stuffed guiding her. With the alexia's talented tongue swirling her clit and fingers knuckle deep, it doesn't take long until the blonde is drinking each drop of the tall brunette again.

"Go get it, mi amore." No emphasis needs to be placed on what it is before alexia is off her knees and buckling the girthess scrap in the endless collection while jenni soothed you in the idea of what was about to happen.

The tall Spaniard with the strap around her hips once more settled your body, so your back is to her front before coating the scrap in your dripping post orgasm and easing into your ass. You tense at the painful stretch, then relaxing into pleasure once you got used to the feeling.

"That's it, bebeita. Do you think you're ready for ale now?" You nod beside yourself and jenni harshly tugged on your hair so both your eyes can met over your shoulder. The rasied eyebrow was enough for you to correct yourself.

"si papi estoy listo"

Alexia then eases herself into your cunt causing slutted out moan to leave your lips. She moved slowly, and then jenni matched her thrust, both eventually finding a rhythm. Your blonde girlfriend placed your head on her shoulder to ground you while jenni leaned back on her arms rocking her hips.

The sound of slapping and the sloshing of your mixed juices filled the room, and it's not too long once until your thighs shake as you're near the break again.

"Ale."

"Just a little more baby just hang on."

Your girlfriends pick up the pace Jenni sitting up against your back with arms around your waist cause your senses to just be filled with them. Your body plused until you're squirting, coating both girls who helped you ride out your high.

Jenni is first to eased out of you, alexia, shushing you gently when you whined at the loss of contact, then taking you into her arms to allow alexia to do the same.

"You did good, baby. Real good." The brunette says with other reassuring words with her arms securely around your body as she moves her body to braced on the headboard, keeping your back to her front.

Alexia moved to prepare a bath while jenni grounded you until you're coherent enough for aftercare.

°•°°•°•°°••°°

An: I didn't mean to, but there will be a part 3 with the aftercare. I just felt bad that I hadn't posted a fic in a while and decided to post this part.

The aftermath of a Champions League final masterclass

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 4 masterlist

Warnings: cuteness 💝💝💝 you guys know the status on that proofreading.

A/N: i was going to use catalan translation for majority of the spanish dialogue but the translator was not cooperating which sucks 🫤 sighhhh

i hope y’all missed her because the mighty brick wall of barcelona is back and better 💪🏼

our estrella, buenaza, spain minister of defense, pequeñita, nenita, bebita, chiquita, whatever you wanna call her, shes the team’s pride and joy 😚

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol

Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.

A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!