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A movie.
That’s all it was supposed to be.
As she snuggles into Rumi. Missing the warmth of Mira. Out at some halloween party— finally. She needed a goddamn break to just… let go. They were proud of her. Really. They had bought costumes of course, for the party next week. A bit late, but hey. Someone’s birthday was a week after halloween.
Zoey dressing up as a turtle (don’t ask how the proportions work…) and Rumi would just go as herself. She glows enough. Mira, opting for something a bit more spooky for the occasion, chose ghostface.
Gasping, as Zoey confessed to have never seen the movies, and Mira swearing Rumi to make her watch them. So here they were, snuggled up on the couch and munching on popcorn as Scream 6 plays in the background. She should be scared. Or maybe tense with anticipation. But she’s not.
She’s horny.
Hey. She never claimed to not be a freak. But even this might be new for her.
Just… god.
Ghostface. The mask. The dominance. The tease. The fucking voice. Fuck she’s wet. And not at Mikey Madison playing Amber.
No, though she’s sure Rumi wouldn’t judge her for it.
No, it’s not that. It’s at the fact that she knew Mira had a ghostface mask Rumi could use... Even the hood.
And god can strike her down but she cannot get it out of her head.
So when Rumi’s hand FINALLY finds her thigh after four goddamn hours, she’s already moving, grinning and lifting her head to find Rumi’s lips. She loves Rumi and her shyness, really. But does it take you four hours to brush a finger across her thigh…?
They kiss right as Samantha Carpenter puts on the mask, ironic enough. Zoey guiding Rumi’s hands to her hips as she straddled one of her thighs.
They moved like they would on stage.
Movements coordinated, like they’d done this thousands of times before. They had.
Like their bond was so strong, they just knew how to move. It was, they did.
It’s a couple minutes of them making out on the couch before they pull away. Not because they want to, but because the tv erupts in a blood-curling scream and Rumi gasps. Zoey laughs, giving her a teasing look.
“Scared you?”
Rumi huffs in laughter, nodding shyly. Zoey stands up, arm outstretched.
“Bedrooms quieter…” Rumi all but jumps up.
Oh, she’s adorable…
They make their way to the bedroom, all giggles and stolen kisses. Rumi’s patterns glow as Zoey slides her hand up her shirt, the glowing of her patterns following Zoey’s hand. Zoey’s eyes follow them. They always do.
Zoey stops her before they enter her room, fidgeting. Rumi’s worried. Zoey’s always bordering on ripping the goddamn door open everytime.
“What’s wrong? Zoey?”
“I… wanna. I wanna try something.” Rumi’s grinning.
“Always.” But she’s confused when Zoey’s turning on her heel.
Disappearing into Mira’s room before coming back out a minute later. With…
“Is that Mira’s halloween costume?” Rumi isn’t disapproving. Just confused and curious.
“I want you… to… to wear it. While you fuck me.”
Oh.
Oh okay. Rumi can get with that.
“Is that why you weren’t screaming at the jumpscares?” Huh.
She thought she was just being a chicken. But Zoey was opening the door to her room. Immediately going for her closet. For Rumi’s usual purple strap. It’s tossed onto the bed. Okay.
Zoey’s feral tonight. She always is when she knows what she wants.
It’s not until Rumi puts the mask on that she knows why. She feels unlike herself.
She feels powerful. She feels… dominant. And not in the pathetic way. I mean dominant.
Her hands are gentle calculated as she slides the strap-on up Rumi’s thighs. Settling it over her core and looking up. A silent question. Rumi nods, her hands sliding into Zoey’s hair.
“Not too tight.” She sit down in the edge of the bed, humming.
Zoey grins, lifting her hand up.
“Hello…? Is this thing on?” Tapping the head of Rumi’s purple strap-on.
“Testing. Testinggggg?” She giggles as Rumi’s patterns pulse.
Rumi shakes her head fondly. Ah, right. No, she’s dominant today. She fixes her mask, wanting to touch it to keep her grounded. Right. She has the power. Zoey’s at her mercy.
She clears her throat, “Zoey.”
“Come on. Put your mouth to better use.” Rumi’s already moving, legs spreading from where she sat on the edge of the bed.
Grabbing Zoey by her hair and pulling her closer. Her other hand on the strap, tapping the head of it against Zoey’s lips.
“Ah. Open? Open for me sweetheart…” Zoey does.
Lips parting and tongue licking the underside of her strap. Up, and to the head. She presses a kiss to it before she takes it into the mouth. Just the head, sucking it between her lips. And she expect Rumi to let her.
Let her worship her strap inch by inch like she always does. Whispering sweet praises and whining like she can really feel it. Hips bucking and toes curling.
(Yes, she has cum before. Just from Zoey sucking her strap… On multiple occasions. Zoey still thinks it’s adorable.)
But no. No, Rumi grabs her by the back of her head, and eases the inches down her throat. Groaning, hips twitching up before relaxing.
“Mff— R-mm…” Zoey’s hands slide onto her thighs, nails digging into the skin.
Eyes widening and flicking up towards Rumi. Like she could read her expression from behind the mask. No, but Rumi throws her head back in a shaky exhale.
Rumi doesn’t shove. She gentle eases Zoey’s throat to take the inches. Thighs tensing in the effort, hips tilting up before rocking. Zoey gags, eyes tearing up as Rumi forces her there. Her nose squished against her curls and her lips stretching with the intrusion.
It’s a couple of seconds. When Rumi’s patterns glow gold, hips stuttering and grounding down that she knows she just came. Rumi’s hand slides out of Zoey’s hair and she pulls off with a cough, heaving. A string of saliva at the head of the strap to her lips, connecting them together.
“R-Rumi…” It’s scratchy. Teary eyes looking up and shifting on her knees.
“How would you feel if Mira saw you now, huh?”
Rumi knows Mira would love it. Mira would revel in it. Stick her fingers in her mouth and let drool slip from the side of Zoey’s mouth. And Mira isn’t here. So Rumi does it.
“Open.”
Two fingers press against Zoey’s lips, which eagerly open. Her fingers slide into her mouth—
“Nuh-uh. No teeth now, you can do better than that Zoey.”
Rumi’s fingers curl and press against her tongue, moaning lowly as she slides them in and out. Mimicking a blow job, letting drool slip from Zoey’s mouth onto her thighs. She tuts, sighing in mock disappointment.
“Messy girl. Clean it up.” Rumi slides her fingers out.
Zoey leans down, licking her saliva off Rumi’s thigh with a broken whimper. Tracing one of her glowing patterns.
“On the bed. You know how I want you.” It’s deep and husky. And Zoey loves it, so she teases in hopes of hearing it again.
“No Ms. Ghostface… how did you want me?” She expects it again. The deep voice, telling her the position.
What she does not expect, is Rumi manhandling her up and onto the bed.
Shoving her head down into a pillow and lifting her hips up. Rumi slides another pillow under Zoey’s thighs.
Ass up, face-down.
“And you should see yourself.” As she grabs Mira’s laptop. Turning on the camera and pressing record. She sets it down in-front of Zoey and oh.
Oh.
“How desperate you are for me.”
Zoey is. The tips of her ears are red, and her lips part in pants. She watches Rumi behind her. In all her glory. Patterns glowing and pulsing and mask on.
“No use in fighting, don’t fucking think about it.” Rumi settles behind her.
Her purple strap rubbing against Zoey’s inner thigh before she shoves them open. Pressing the head of her strap between her folds before rocking her hips.
Zoey breaths, “R-Rumi—“
“No. You know what I want.” It’s a couple of seconds of Rumi rocking the strap through her folds before Zoey caves.
“Ghostface. Ghostface, please.” She’s rewarded with a moan from Rumi.
Rumi presses the head of her strap against Zoey’s entrance. And it’s slow. It’s so slow as she pushes in. Just the head, and only the head. Careful and slow, as she grinds in and out. Zoey mewls, eyes fluttering shut and hole stretching open over and over again.
“Ghostface p-hungg… please. Please…” Her hips buck, before she tries to grind back against Rumi.
“Don’t move baby.” She doesn’t listen.
Instead, she tries again. And again. And again.
“Stop fucking moving—“
Smack. Against her ass.
Did Rumi just… spank her-?
Spank, spank, spank.
Rumi has never spanked her before, and it shows. It shows. Zoey loves it. She loved it so fucking much she cums. Gasping, thighs clamping shut and hips bucking.
Rumi stills all together. And it’s quiet. So quiet she can hear her own heavy breathing.
“I”m not even all the way in yet, you whore. You came just—“ Another spank.
“From—“ Another.
“That?!?” And another. “You’re gonna cum again like this because i’m not fucking you with the rest.”
“Rumi, it was an—“ Another spank shuts her up.
Rumi isn’t lying. She grinds into Zoey with half of the strap-on. Not pushing in all the way and oh my god is it fucking torture. And Zoeys stubborn and frustrated. So she tries to beg one more time before switching tactics.
Rumi’s eyes are on the camera as she watches herself.
That’s her? She watches as her hand lifts and comes down against Zoey’s ass. Her eyes trail down to Zoey’s face, taking in her reaction. Her face frustrated but yes, definitely fucking loving this.
“Rumi, Rumi please. Please just go— go deeper baby p-please—“
Zoey squirms, hips twitching and trying to fuck herself back on the strap.
It’s not fast enough.
It’s not deep enough.
No. Rumi was staying true to her promise. Using half the strap-ons length to gently grind into her. Rumi’s hums, because she knows the chances of Zoey cumming like this are slim. So slim. And she revels in the tears that fill Zoey’s eyes.
Rumi’s leans over, grabbing Zoey by her hair. She forces Zoey to look into the camera, her own face beside hers. Ghostface.
“Say who’s you are.” Zoey does.
“Y-huhh, yours. Yours Rumi, yours-s—“
“That’s right. You’re ghostfaces bitch aren’t you?” Even Rumi is surprised.
She’s surprised that left her mouth, but she loves it. The power she has. Her hips buck, shoving the rest of the strap into Zoey, and it makes Zoey cum.
Again.
Maybe she underestimated how much Zoey would enjoy this…
“Yes Rumi, *yes*! Mmmn, your bitch. ‘M your—“
Rumi’s hand landed on her ass, thumbs spreading Zoey’s pussy as she buries herself deeper with a breathless grunt. Zoey bites the pillow, muffling a moan. And then her whines and whimpers. Wanting to keep her facade of confidence.
“Stubborn.” Rumi says the word before she can even think it.
Her hand slapping Zoey’s ass.
“Fucking.” Another slap. Same spot. Her handprint turning crimson, the edges purple.
“Brat.” Her hand slides from her ass to grip her hair, tugging her head back. Tapping her cheek, as if to say “stay.” Before her hand slides down, twisting one of Zoey’s pierced nipples.
Zoey keens, crying out and gasping. And Zoey, always one to push buttons. Always one to talk back. Even as her back arches and her hips push back for more.
“Oh… you can go h- unf— harder than that Ms. Ghostface. I k-know you can—“
Her eyes are half-lidded, like she’s resisting the urge to squeeze them shut. But they roll back when Rumi’s hand finds it’s way from her pierced nipple to her neck. Growling as she angles her head up, forcing her to look at her reflection from Mira’s laptop.
That’s when she started to fuck her. Not the deep grinds. I mean hips slapping against Zoey’s bruised ass and headboard knocking against the wall. Pounding her into the mattress.
“You wanted it harder?” It’s said with another slap of her hips.
“This is what you wanted, don’t fight it.” Heated, as Zoey squeals in surprise. Rumi’s voice ever so slightly muffled from the mask, but still clear enough for Zoey to moan.
Her eyes rolled back before squeezing shut, snapping back open as Rumi’s demon hand squeezes her neck. Claws just barely digging into her skin.
“Eyes open Zoey. Look at yourself.” God she is.
Watching herself on Mira’s laptop camera, back arched and Rumi absolutely destroying her from behind. Her ghostface mask on and god she looked unbelievably beautiful. Breasts bouncing with the movement of her hips, patterns pulsing gold, and biceps flexing, muscles of her stomach contracting and clenching.
“You can’t cum.” God she loves the way Zoey’s confidence breaks down at that.
Face twisting like Rumi had just said something absolutely awful, tears rolling down her cheeks. Rumi’s demon hand on her neck squeezing and the other on her hip, nails digging in. Leaving a handprint and half crescent moons against her skin.
God, she reveled in the marks. The handprints over Zoey’s ass and the bite marks and hickeys everywhere. Her hand cupped Zoey’s bruised ass, smirking at the yelp she gave. Her hand gently kneading and massaging the abused skin, moaning at the reaction Zoey gave.
It was everything.
The way she mewled and gasped like Rumi might take pity on her. Have some mercy to give.
No. Not like this. Not this time. Her hand lifted, before coming down on her ass down.
“Rum— Rumi! P-please baby, p— uh-hnnghh! Fuh-huuuck!”
Her feet lifting, the heels of her feet pressing against Rumi’s ass like she didn’t know whether she wanted it to stop or keep going.
Rumi loomed over her, eyes fixed on the camera of Mira’s laptop. She lifts Zoey’s hips up higher, wanting the perfect angle.
“You wanted this, remember? You *begged* for it. I’m just so nice, I had to give you what you wanted.”
Zoey sobs in response, thighs trembling. Her hands fist the sheets and she knows she’s close. She looks back, teary eyes and a face that looked seconds away from a meltdown.
“R-Rum-i! P—“ She doesn’t even have to finish.
Because Rumi’s already taking pity on her. God, Mira would tell her she’s too soft if she were here.
“You can cum. Say my name, tell me who you’re cumming for.” Rumi.
It’s her, it’s solely her. And she says it. She sobs it, she *screams* it. Eyes rolling back, jaw dropping open in something that sounded like her name, and body going tense. And oh, she’s not cumming, she’s squirting.
Hips jerking and twitching with it. She heard a gasp from Rumi, and then a low moan.
Leaving a pool of *wet* against the sheets, and god what a mess she was. Panting, as she flopped forward. She could feel Rumi’s hand drifting down her back, soft and gentle. Her other carefully kneading her ass. Zoey’s eyes were on the screen once they opened.
A breathless laugh leaves her lips, all smiling and completely satisfied.
“Oh, Zoey… Oh baby, good girl. Look at you, such a good girl. You okay?”
Zoey nods. A shit-eating grin, all toothy and satisfied. She turns around once Rumi pulls out, flopping to her back. She helps Rumi take off the strap-on, tossing it on the dresser for later clean-up.
“C’mere, baby…” Zoey opens her arms, taking the mask and hood off of Rumi.
“Lemme see you, Rumi baby,” She can practically hear the way Rumi’s lips upturn in a smile.
“There’s my pretty girl…” She tossed the mask and hood somewhere, sighing as Rumi flushes.
“You okay? I didn’t go too hard…?” Rumi kisses her forehead, and Zoey almost wants to tell her she could have gone harder before she thinks better of it.
“God, you were perfect baby. Perfect.”
Rumi leans over, pressing pause on Mira’s laptop. Shutting it, and placing it on the nightstand before nuzzling into Zoey. Another kiss, to the bottom of her jaw this time. Just because she could.
They knew Mira would find that. They knew Mira would be flabbergasted. Maybe a bit pissed she didn’t get to see Rumi being so… dominant.