𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | charlize theron

lady lesso; angel*

Another invite to another Halloween party. Not that I mind, disguising myself can be really fun. However, when Dovey runs the party it's not as entertaining, especially because the decor is childish and well...not scary. That and it's a masquerade: all masks to be removed at midnight.

I sigh, pulling down the angel style mask (ironically I'm way too evil to be considered an angel) so it stops irritating my face as much and pour another drink. I'd rather be marking exam paperwork than this - reading through the endlessly dull essays my students supplied me with about what makes a great villain. This - usually influenced by Manley, means a lot about the subject of uglification arises.

The obnoxious sun-witch I can identify as Dovey starts to head my way and I feel an utter sense of dread in my stomach. A hand grabs my gloved one and pulls me out of the way, causing me to nearly crash into the mystery person. I look up to see a red devil staring down at me. Satan knows a fallen angel when he sees one, clearly I have been identified.

"You didn't look the type that wanted a chat." Their voice speaks. Though they're dressed as a man the voice is undeniably feminine and oozes seduction, leading me to believe they're probably extremely attractive. Her mouth meets the glass of red they're nursing, barely a mouthful slipping through her lips.

"Yes, and unfortunately I haven't been crushed by a candy pumpkin yet." I sigh, downing my own red wine. I dust off my white dress and fix my composure. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go and be angelic in a dark corner somewhere."

"Or." Her hand grabs my shoulder as I attempt to flee, "We could get out of here. Masks stay on if that's why you're worried." I'm not but how thoughtful of her. She drops her hand from its previous area of residence and I stare into the blue eyes of this mystery saviour.

"What do you have in mind?" I ask. She simply smirks and grabs my wrist, dragging me from the hall. We run through a maze of corridors that surprisingly I get lost amongst, until I'm pulled into a room. The door locks, remaining wine set aside and her lips finally crash against mine. Not what I expected but definitely not unwelcome.

I pull her closer to me, lifting my mask slightly to give her easier access to my mouth, but low enough to keep my identity concealed. Her lips  taste of pomegranate and honey, the flavor consuming  my every sense and thought. I'm slammed against the wall, my short dress dragged up my body, her knee sliding between my legs causing an arousal that makes my legs weak. 

I wrap them around her waist and start to unbutton the waistcoat she sports, a painful aching feeling in my stomach. She collapses onto the bed, arm sliding through my legs and holding onto the back of my thigh. I moan as her clothed forearm presses against the sheer fabric I call underwear, eliciting an equally as desperate groan from her lips. Her other hand slides into my hair dancing around the string of my mask with expertise, pulling my lips from her.

"Am I okay to do this, no strings attached?" She asks, words falling from her mouth breathlessly. Her hands stay where they are and the mere feeling of the fabric of her sleeve against me is enough of an answer.

"No strings attached." I say, hurriedly pressing her lips to mine again, her kisses firm and soft at the same time. Something about the mystery woman is addictive, like a drug designed exactly for me. Her body is designed to fit perfectly against mine, even whilst we're fully clothed.

She removes her hands to flip us over and pull my dress from my body, lips sucking my neck hard enough to leave marks. Her teeth bite down on the skin, tugging it lightly before moving on. Why she didn't dress up as a vampire I'm not quite sure. I slide her shirt from her shoulders and start to unbutton her trousers. Her hands stop me and instead I'm left with my hands pinned above my head.