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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

cherry

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, stripper!reader, prostitution, protected blowjob, protected p in v sex

“that hot guy is back again.” sugar says, pulling back the curtain just an inch, pointing into the crowd.

“ugh, he is so fine.” you whine. “we never get hot guys in here.” it’s your number one problem with your new strip club, in a much different area than your last, therefore attracting a far different crowd, mainly, an older one.

“girl, i know. everyone wants to take him into the back.” sugar raises his eyebrows, knowing you share her proclivity for taking clients into the back rooms to get an personal “dance.”

“it’s gonna be a fight for who he picks.” you giggle, quickly closing the curtain when the strip club house mom walks into the backstage area.

“i know i’m going right to him when lapdances start, but so is every other girl.” sugar says, adjusting the bra she’s wearing.

“if he stays, remember he left after the shows last time.” you point out. he stayed for all the girls to do their solo shows, but by the time lapdances and duos and trios came out, he was gone.

“good point, cherry.” sugar nods, using your stripper name, which is always a bit of a shock when its the girls doing it, but you learned quickly here that its a sign of respect to keep your real name out of the workplace at this club, so you quickly adapted to only using stripper names.

“alright girls, music is starting!” the house mom shouts out. you are later on in the set, so you head back to your station and adjust your costume for the night, a cherry red number to fit your name, matching your nail polish and lipstick.

you wait until its your turn to go on, hearing the music play and waiting for the right beat to walk out, the club letting out a cheer as you strut onto the stage. the routine is an old one that you’ve done a million times, and your body easily works through the motions, running almost on autopilot, giving you time to look into the crowd, gauge the reactions, including the handsome guy everyone wants sitting forward, eyes intense.

you are out of breath and completely naked except for your heels as you walk back behind the curtain, pushing your hair back that got caught in your face.

“girl, shut the fuck up! hottie was totally into you!” lola says, her voice sounding excited, despite a couple of the other girls giving you a jealous look.

you pull your next lingerie set, the one you liked for lap dances as you shrug. you noticed that he was paying very close attention to your dancing, but you didn’t know that he wasn’t giving everyone else the exact same heated look.

“i think its only fair we let cherry at him first.” sugar suggests, and there’s a smattering of agreement from the other girls, which is enough to set it as a rule, you get to approach the attractive man before anyone else could take their shot.

it makes you excited for the individual sets to end as you make sure to touch up your lipstick and blot any sweat and oils from your forehead. you saunter out as soon as you are allowed, the last stripper still making her way off the stage.

your eyes immediately set sight on your target. “hello there, handsome.” you purr, watching as the handsome mans eyes slowly drag up your body. “can i interest you in a dance?” he smiles, a closed mouth smirk that conveys powerful confidence. he doesn’t even use his words, simply pulls a bill out of his pocket. you smile with all your teeth back at him, knowing they’re framed by your bright red lips as you tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, letting him slip the folded bill against your skin, fingers briefly brushing against your hip.

you turn around as the man sits back in his chair. you place your hands on either side of the arm, giving yourself some support as you lower your ass over his crotch, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

“you like that?” you ask with a smirk, but the man know he doesn’t need to answer, not when you can certainly feel his excitement growing in his pants.

you continue your lap dance for longer than usual, even parting your thighs slightly to give yourself some pleasure as well, hoping its not too noticeable for anyone watching, and you’re sure some of the other girls are staring in anger as they have to give lap dance to old drunk men.

you rise up before turning back to the man. “would you like another dance? a private one in the back?”

he nods, standing up to follow you as you lead him into the back hallway with various doors, cracked if they’re empty, and locked shut to indicate someone else had already been taken back. officially, your club is a stripclub, but its an unspoken rule that lapdance time also meant that dancer could take clients back for anything they wanted to do in private, and that money would stay solely with the dancers, not needing to give the bouncers or bartenders a percentage.

“whats your name, handsome?” you ask, gesturing him into one of the empty rooms, the lights already low, red velvet couches pushed up on either side of the wall with a small table in the center. the room is small, but plenty of space for just the two of you.

“rafe.” he answers with a smirk, hand coming to your waist, touching the bare skin there. “and money is no object so whatever we do, don’t worry, i can afford it.” he pulls a bill out his pocket to prove it, tucking it again into your panties.

“hot and rich, i like that.” you hum.

“is there anything thats not allowed?” rafe asks, fingers rubbing over your sides, clearly excited to get started.

“wear a condom. no hitting or leaving any sort of marks on my body. any hard kinks, you need to tell me beforehand.” you explain quickly, having gone over the spiel with other customers before.

“just wanna fuck you.” rafe smirks, his voice deep and alluring, making you for once feel yourself getting excited about sleeping with one of the clients.

“why don’t you sit down then?” you gesture to the couch. rafe sits down with the same smirk on his face, his arms resting on the back of the couch as you begin to dance, able to hear the music from the main lounge of the club, using it as your tempo as you move your body, slowly taking off your lingerie under rafes watchful eye.

you get yourself completely naked, all while rafe watches you with that same look on his face, clearly growing in his pants, his cock pushing against the zipper.

you kneel down between his legs, tossing your hair to the side while you rub over his cock before undoing the button teasingly slow, followed by his zipper. “so big.” you coo. it’s usually what you say to make your average sized customers feel better, but for once you mean it with rafe.

“gonna suck me, cherry?” rafe asks, your eyebrows raising slightly when you realize that he remembered your name from when it was announced on stage before your set. “get that pretty red lipstick all over my cock?”

you tug his pants down in response, taking his underwear down with it as you watch his cock spring free, already hard and pulsing with need.

“gotta put a condom on for oral too.” you remember suddenly, having gotten so excited you almost started sucking him without it.

“aw, come on, i promise i’m clean.” rafe says, his voice so sickly sweet you hesitate, but remember the horror stories of other strippers getting stds from breaking rules.

“sorry handsome.” you shake your head, grabbing a condom out of the bowl on the table before sliding it over his cock. you make up for the condom quickly by sinking your lips over his dick, the red lipstick transfering onto the condom instead as you suck.

“oh, thats good.” rafe moans, leaning back against the couch as you bob your head, his hands moving to your hair.

you work your tongue against his cock as you suck, pulling out all the skills that you’ve learned in your years of working in clubs. you resist the urge to smirk as rafe moans loudly, not afraid to have his noises of pleasure heard.

you nuzzle yourself against rafes abs as his cock slides down your throat, swallowing repeatedly to not gag as you deepthroat him. you go to pull off when rafe pushes you back down, his hips lifting to keep your lips pressed against his pelvis.

you flutter your eyes closed and breathe for your nose as rafe pumps forward, lifting his hips off the couch to fuck his cock down your throat. you hum, creating vibrations around his dick while rafe grips your hair, tugging you down to meet his thrusts.

you are about to tap out, needing to take a real breath when rafes cock throbs in your mouth and pulls you off, your scalp burning slightly from rafe using your hair to tug at you.

“god, you’re good, i was about to cum.” rafe groans, relaxing back into the couch as you’re still kneeled below him, wiping away the spit that has fallen down onto your chin.

“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, standing up over rafe.

“hands and kneels, cherry.” rafe stands, shucking his pants off of where they are pooled around his ankles.

you climb onto the couch, arching your back to present your ass to rafe. he rubs his hands over your bum before rubbing his fingers through your folds, surprised to find how wet you already are.

“you're actually turned on, huh?” rafe smirks, taking his cock and rubbing it through your folds.

“yeah.” you whine, trying to push your hips backwards, to get him inside of you.

“damn cherry, you're acting like you're the one paying me here.” rafe laughs, and you know you should be more professional, and maybe you would have if rafe would have asked you to ride him, but being bent over the couch, waiting for his big cock to enter you has you actually turned on for the first time when with a client.

“come on.” you moan, arching your back to present your cunt to rafe, which finally has him satisfying your wishes, sliding forward as his cock stretches you open.

“fuck.” rafe groans, instantly snapping his hips forward, slick sounds echoing around the empty room as he moves.

you finally remember that you’re the stripper here and begin to push your hips back onto him, meeting every one of his thrusts. as soon as you start to move, rafe grabs onto your hips to help out, slamming your bodies together.

“such a pretty pussy, cherry.” rafe says, hands squeezing your hips, just gentle enough to not leave bruises.

“such a big cock.” you compliment right back. “feels so good in me.”

“yeah, you like this big dick, huh?” rafe smirks, moaning when your cunt clenches down on him. you’re determined to make him cum quickly, despite not wanting it to be over any time soon, you also want to impress rafe and show off your skills.

you spread your legs a little more and press yourself forward so you can sink down onto your elbows, giving rafe a whole new angle, which you can tell he likes from the groan that escapes his lips.

“so good for me, gonna have to come back here and fuck you more often.” rafe says, hips grinding into your ass.

“yeah, yes, please.” you whine out, reaching between your legs with one hand to rub at your clit, knowing you shouldn’t worry about yourself and just focus on rafes pleasure, but your clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as you massage it.

“such a dirty whore.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

rafe continues to fuck you hard while you get yourself closer to the edge, surprised how easily your high is building as rafes cock pumps into you.

“you close cherry? can feel you clenching round me.” rafe asks, sliding his hands to your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them open, using the grip on your bum to continue to pull your hips back onto his cock.

“yeah, real close.” you moan, making sure to exaggerate your noises, hoping it would spur rafe along, and it does as he starts to moan incessantly, panting out a mix of curse words and your stage name.

“gonna cum.” he manages to warn seconds before he releases inside of the condom, grinding his hips into you as it triggers your own orgasm, fingers rubbing speedily as you cum, slumping into the couch as shivers rack your body.

rafe keeps himself lodged inside of you until your highs are thoroughly rode out. he pulls out with a groan, not able to help himself as he brings a hand to smack your ass, not hard enough to leave a print despite your no hitting rule, but you let it slide, especially as your wetness drips onto the couch.

“did i wear you out cherry?” rafe smirks, taking the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before getting his clothes back on.

“fuck yeah you did.” there’s no use denying it, rafe can tell by the way you’re still breathing heavily.

“can you hand me a towel.” you point towards a small rack by the door that rafe hadn’t noticed before, clean towels stacked neatly on it. rafe grabs one of the washcloths, stepping over to you as you manage to turn yourself to sit upright on the couch.

“let me, yeah?” he kneels down, one hand gently rubbing at your thighs while he wipes your fluids away from your cunt, cleaning you off with surprising gentleness.

“thanks.” you mumble as rafe tosses the cloth into the trash as you redress in what little clothing you were wearing.

“how much?” rafe asks, pulling out his wallet as you collect the money that fell out of your waistband when you stripped for him.

you rattle off the number as rafe opens his wallet, pulling out more than enough to give you a generous tip, but he’s clearly not hurting for cash.

“do you go on again tonight?” rafe asks as you tuck the money into the cup of your bra.

“yeah, i’ve got one more number.” you nod as you head towards the door, opening it for rafe.

“i’ll stay just for you then, cherry.” rafe says, walking out the door past you with that signature smirk.

you feel your cheeks blush slightly as you watch him saunter down the hallway and then take his same seat as you rush backstage.

“tell me everything!” sugar shouts.

“oh my god,” you flop down on one of the couched, muscles still tired. “he is BIG.”

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dejwrld · 3 months

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⤷‧₊˚ hiromi higuruma helps his bratty sub study for her bar exam.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, usage of y/n, reader is a law student, mentions of reader being the child of a judge, mentions of law, dom!hiromi, sub!reader, reader described to be very feminine and bratty, no cursed au, dom x sub dynamic, usage of toys (vibrating panties), oral (reader receiving), pet names (good girl, doll), mentions of pubes, praise kink (academical), bonus after care scene, written in third pov (hiromi’s), mdni

sticky note from deja — sometimes i think about dom hiromi higuruma and just sigh happily.

Hiromi passed his bar exam with flying colors. He didn’t do study groups. Simply studied alone and prioritized his time to balance being a law clerk, studying, and socializing to ensure a law firm hired him. But this woman didn’t do any of that and frankly, he was even shocked that she still wanted to pursue law at all. She graduated from law school with a high GPA, and wonderful recommendations from amazing professors, and her father was a prominent judge. Many can assume that her pretty looks and her legacy surname got her where she is today, but Hiromi has observed her in her element and when she was in her element she was a beast.

So the older lawyer had no clue why she came to him with law books in her arm, her tote bag slung on her shoulders—tight coils sprawled on her head like a crown, and a tight suede tracksuit on as if she was stepping into her law class. But of course, when she had a problem, she came to him. When she needed a quick nut, she came to him. Needing someone to vent about when it came to her class rival, she came to him. Now it seemed she needed help studying for the exam and who did she come to, him.

But as an hour and thirty minutes went by, the young woman was not soaking up the information that Hiromi was going over. His eyes bored into the notebook, flashcards, and textbooks scattered across his desk. She watches as she twirls her pink pen around her fingers reading over the notes she jolted down, but he can just tell by the crinkle of her eyebrows that the information wasn’t going through that thick skull of hers. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she knew the information because she did. But he doubted she’d remember it for the exam. He leaned back into his comfortable black desk chair trying to rack his brain with a better studying technique before eventually he got an idea. An imaginary light bulb lit up over the top of the lawyer’s head.

“I think I have an idea.” He spoke out, causing her to stop her highlighting—which he was hoping she would do because the scent of the highlighter was already giving him a headache simply because she just had to have scented ones.

This one smells like strawberries, smell it? Those were her exact words forty-five minutes ago as he was going over some laws on family laws.

“Will it help me feel like the information I’m consuming is sticking and staying in my brain?”

“Possibly,” was the only thing Hiromi answered before pulling himself out of his seat and disappearing from his office.

It was three things the woman that sat across from him enjoyed. Shopping, her father’s credit card, and sexual pleasure. If Hiromi had any more knowledge of psychology, he would have labeled Y/N as a nymphomaniac.

When returned with the red velvet box, he sat the box on the table and she perked up happily, possibly thinking that this was a sparkly diamond necklace for her.

“A gift? Aw, this definitely will help.” Her plush glossed lips spread into a smile. She claps her hands together in excitement sitting up in the chair.

“It’s not a necklace, doll.” He points out. She opened the box revealing the black lace underwear that had a vibrator inside of them.

He was going to use these at their anniversary dinner as a sub and dog duo, but he guessed he had to come up with another idea to make their dinner interesting. His gloomy eyes watched as her eyes lit up like fuckin’ fireworks. His assumption was right. He watches as she simply stands up ready to remove her underwear eagerly.

“I do think a quick sex session will help me focus a bit more. This is why I came to you. At first, I was going to join that one guy who knows Nanami's study group, but in my mind—I just knew you would have a better study idea.” She giggled as her hand went to untie her tracksuit bottoms to change into the other panties.

“No, we’re not doing that. Put the panties on and sit back down.” He scattered around his desk to give her time to change into the vibrating panties.

He thought she was going to argue against what he said, but she didn’t. As quiet as can be, she’s shuffling to remove her underwear and replace it with the sexual treat that Hiromi graced upon her. While she changed, Hiromi was looking for the notebook that he used when he was studying for his bar exam. He knew it had a bunch of mock bar exam questions on there and thought they would help. When he found the book, he walked back to his desk and Y/N sat patiently waiting for him, she went back to reading her textbook without a care.

Hiromi removed the box from the table, placing it on the ledge behind him after he grabbed the remote. He slammed the notebook on the table that looked like it’s been through centuries of war. He liked keeping it because it showed how far he had come from a law student to one of the best lawyers in the city. He skimmed through the pages before finding a page he wanted to start on.

“A defendant is being prosecuted for conspiracy to possess methamphetamine with intent to distribute. At trial, the government seeks to have its agent testify to a conversation that he overheard between the defendant and a co-conspirator regarding the incoming shipment of a large quantity of methamphetamine. That conversation was also audiotaped, though critical portions of it are inaudible. The defendant objects to the testimony of the agent on the ground that it is not the best evidence of the conversation.” He pauses briefly to look at Y/N across from him. “Is the testimony of the agent admissible?”

He watches as she brings her French tip manicured finger to her chin to think. He had a feeling she knew the answer, she told him about the paper she had done about admissible evidence. But as he watches her shoulders go upward and downward in an ‘I don’t know’ manner, Hiromi lets out a sigh before pressing the remote. The silence in his office was disrupted by the sound of the vibration. He watches as she jerks forward provocatively. He leans back in his seat.

“You know the answer to this, stop being a smart ass.” Hiromi’s slender fingers toyed with the small remote watching as she was withering forward in attempting to mask her moan.

“It’ll be admissible,” She breathes out.

“Why?” Hiromi asked.

For a quick second, he can see a glint of sexual frustration in her eyes. This was the first sexual encounter in a while due to him restricting them from it. He had a huge case coming up and she had to study for the bar exam. Sex would cloud their judgment on the tasks they had to do.

“The best evidence rule does not require proof of the conversation through the audiotape.”

He presses the button on the remote making the vibrator stop. “Good girl. I knew you knew that.” His lips crack a smile and he watches as she recomposes herself.

“Next question.” Hiromi flips through the pages in his notebook. “Hypothetically thinking, say a person broke into a closed building to solely seek refuge due to a snowstorm. Can this person be convicted of burglary if that’s her defense?” His fingers were itching to press the button, but he had to hear her answer first.

“No.”

“Why? Come on baby, you know they’re going to ask why?”

“I’m not sure, let me think.”

It didn’t take long before Hiromi pressed the button. Her moans echoed within the study while clasping her thighs closed to engulf the sudden vibration from the panties she wore. She falls back into the seat across from him and her body arches off of it briefly before she’s finally croaking out an explanation.

“Burglary requires the intent to commit a crime upon entering a building and seeking shelter from a storm is not a criminal act. So, this hypothetical person can validate her claim.”

“That’s right. You’re doing amazing with these questions. Just need it to stick in your brain, that’s all.” He reassures Y/N with a smile.

The quizzing went on for about thirty minutes, but Hiromi had lost track of time when he felt how tight his cock felt in his slacks. He was sure she had orgasmed multiple times from the vibrating panties just by the way her eyes drooped, her body slouching in the leather seat she was in, and the fact that he could see her hardened nipples through the sports bra after she had unzipped the hoodie of her tracksuit. She had this tendency where if he wasn’t touching her during little sessions, she had to touch herself. Which she did, right across from him—each time he flicked the remove on causing the vibrating on her pussy, she'd pinch her marbled nipples while uttering out a response to a random law question.

“I think you deserve a break for today. You still have the weekend to study,” He pointed out as he tossed the remote back into its box. “Come here.”

She’s hesitant at first and Hiromi can tell just by the way her lips part to argue and her eyebrows frown together. She wasn’t sure if she should cave and come forward or stay put just to feel the vibrating in between her thighs again. She knew that he knew she always defied him in some way just to get a rise out of him, but today—it seems her head was screwed on right. After all, Hiromi didn’t have to help Y/N study. Helping her study wasn’t a part of the contract, but he did—in such an odd sexy manner that caused her to be soaked between her thighs.

As she tiptoed around the wooden desk, she was peeling off her clothes so provocatively that Hiromi couldn’t help but swallow the harsh knot that formed in his throat. He couldn’t wait for himself to be buried so far in between her sumptuous thighs that the only thing he could smell on his top lip was her essence. Hiromi spread his muscular thighs so that she could take place between them—looking down at him like she was Aphrodite and he was a man that she had just placed under a spell due to her elegance. His hand grabs her waist letting his hands caress every bump and curve of her body that he was obsessed with. From the stretch marks that decorate her mahogany skin to the small mole that was right near her belly button.

“You drive me fuckin’ insane,” Hiromi finds himself saying. His dark eyes scan at how her lips spread into a grin.

He grabs her, placing her on his desk without a sweat. The sound of textbooks and notebooks echoed through the office as he pulled himself further under the table. Her legs gaped so provocatively that in Hiromi’s mind, the Lady Justice statue on the shelf on his left probably wanted to clutch her pearls. Hiromi placed subtle kisses on her legs starting from her ankle which was decorated bejeweled with a diamond anklet.

“You’re stalling. You know how much I want you right now, and you’re stalling.” The law student breathes as she leans back on the weight of her arms.

Hiromi watches as her chest begins to rise rapidly with each kiss growing closer to her pussy. Her words went into one ear and out the other for the lawyer and when he was finally face to face with what his mouth salivated for, his eyes met with hers. Her eyes were pleading for something. A kiss. A nibble. A lick. Hell, even a blow. Anything to soothe the aching feeling on her clit. Y/N’s hand went down to palm at the wetness in between her thighs, so eager and impatient—but the stern lawyer stopped her.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself, Y/N.” He commands.

And there goes the tone she was longing for. Oh, that authoritarian tone that made her pussy clench when he used it. She relaxes under his touch and lets him do his work. “If you’re going to take so long, I might as well finish off by myself.” Y/N comments.

“You talk so much, do you love hearing yourself talk?”

“And you are doing so much talking for a man whose mouth should be stuffed with my pus—”

Her words were interrupted by the feeling of Hiromi’s tongue dragging upon her panties. He pulled them to the side swiftly and finally was granted what he wanted all along. The flat of his tongue licks up her pussy lips collecting her juices like a man that was deprived of water for days. He moans at the taste of her and his hands grab at her waist to pull her closer. His eyes flutter close as he’s lapping at her puffy pussy lips at the sound of her moans. Her fingers entangled in his hair as her hips grind against his face. She wasn’t sure what was turning her on more. The way his face was buried into her pussy or how attractive it looked as his nose was nuzzling against her pubes.

“Fuck.” She moans out, her toes curling at the feeling of his tongue flicking her clit.

Hiromi detaches himself from her briefly, peppering soft kisses on her trembling thighs before devouring her whole again. The thing about Hiromi is that he knew how her body would react to certain things. He knew how her pussy clenched around his cock when he gave her neck a little squeeze. He knew that she was in between a squirter and creamer depending on the task. Squirting when he’s fingering her with a vibrator practically glued upon her clit. Creamer when he’s forcing orgasm after orgasm out of her after begging him to cum inside her (but to Hiromi, having his cum inside her is merely a privilege). So of course, he knew using his tongue to trace alongside the drooling entrance of her pussy was going to have her pushing herself forward for more. The mere feeling of his tongue invading her in such a manner that had her a trembling and whimpering mess was something Hiromi knew about her.

Hiromi lets out a moan at how good she tastes. The taste of Y/N has graced his tongue countless times and he still ate her out as if it was the best meal he has tasted. With each squirm in his arms, he’s flicking his tongue slower on her clit. With each moan of his name that slips by her plush lips, he’s granting her more licks and sucks. He wanted to see her come undone right here. He could feel it just by the way her thighs were poorly attempting to entrap his head by shutting them.

He lets out an annoyed sigh after he removes himself from her pussy, “Do you want to cum, Y/N?”

“I do. I want to cum.” She whines.

“Then fuckin’ act like it.”

Y/N obediently nods, her snarky comment jammed into her throat before she let Hiromi spread her thighs even wider than what they were before. Her clit throbbing to be in his mouth again and he graciously granted her wish. Like a deprived man, Hiromi snuggled his nose back into her pubes as if he belonged there. Y/N was aware that Hiromi knew she was about to cum. He had this tendency to hold onto her as if she would turn into dust in his arms—as if he didn’t want to let her go. That’s what he was currently doing as her orgasm was spilling over. One hand gripping her in place (that she knew would leave a bruise) and the other palming his hardened cock through his pants.

Just with the flick of his tongue, an explosive feeling causes Y/N to let out a dragged-out moan. Her back lays back on the desk as Hiromi’s tongue helps her ride out the orgasm. Her French pedicured toes curl at the feeling of that fiery pit in her stomach shattering so intensely it brought tears to her eyes. Her fingers tugged at his black strands of hair as if they were a handle holding her up from falling. When she heard him remove himself from her with a pop, Hiromi leaned back in his seat with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

After Y/N came down from the euphoria of cumming in Hiromi’s mouth, she sat up on her elbows with a pleased look on her face. She knew after any sexual intercourse with the high-profile lawyer, he just had to include aftercare in the special package. He may have gotten off at the thought of seeing her tied up with rope, handcuffed to his headboard, or mouth gagged with his cock—but he was very serious when it came to aftercare. The two soon settled for a bath to end the evening. The warmth of the water engulfed their bodies as they were in the large bathtub filled with scented soap and rose petals. Hiromi’s head fell back to be met with the marbled tile and he let out a relaxing sigh, the scent of Y/N lingering on his upper lip and tongue.

“I have a confession to make..” Y/N leans further back on him, relaxing under the warmth of both the water and Hiromi’s body.

“Hm.” He hums lightly letting his eyes flutter back open.

“I’m actually well prepared for the bar exam. Took a practice bar exam a week ago and according to my professor—if it was the real one, I would have passed.” She happily sighs letting her fingers play with the bubbles in the tub.

“What?” Hiromi glares at the back of her head with a displeased look.

“I woke up this morning with a student and tutor sex fantasy, silly.”

“You will be the death of me.”

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thanks for reading. <3

#hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #female reader #anime x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x black reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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rad-batson · 8 months

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Batlantern Headcanons Because I Found My New Brainrot and I Cannot Contain Myself (Platonic or Romantic, You Decide <3)

Hal is the only one who gets away with calling Bruce nicknames. Oliver tried calling Bruce “Spooky” once. He still has nightmares.

Several long-winded missions combined with Hal’s couch-surfing escapades have resulted in Hal having his own official Wayne guest room.

Alfred has smacked Hal with a dish towel several times. Reasons include: trying to wash the dishes, using a mini vac that he brought from home, and spitting gum into the garbage without wrapping it in a tissue first.

Tim gave Hal all of their streaming passwords to piss Bruce off. Hal proceeded to make his own profiles because he fears nothing, so Bruce changed all of his profile names to “Parasite.” Since then, it’s turned into an all-out war of renaming Hal’s profile every time they’re using it.

Highlights so far have included Sugar Baby, Freeloader, Ring Pop, Green Abomination, Magical Girl, Noisemaker, The Better Side Piece, and This is Your Official Eviction Notice Hal. (Bruce still hasn’t changed the passwords.)

Hal: You need to let go of your fear, Bats. Let’s do a simple breathing exercise. Bruce: I am breathing. Hal: No, like calming breaths. Follow my lead, okay? In- no, not that fast. Maybe close your eyes first. In…and out-No. No. Are you having a panic attack? Do I need to call someone?

For one mission, a few other JL members had to go undercover as couples. Bruce and Hal were the spares and paired up out of necessity. To everyone’s surprise, however, they were the most convincing duo because they “bickered like an old married couple.”

Bruce: I’m growing soft, Clark. I’m weak now. Clark: You told Hal ‘Good job.’ What’s wrong with that? Bruce: It’s unprofessional! *in the other room* Hal: I think Batman just confessed his undying love to me.

They have each other’s coffee orders memorized and regularly prepare the other’s coffee for them out of habit when they’re together.

After a while, Hal stops playfully flirting with everyone and reserves it only for Bruce because he gives the best reactions.

At a ‘Thank You, Justice League’ party hosted by Bruce Wayne, Hal slips up and flirts with Bruce in his civvies, only for Brucie Wayne to flirt back without missing a beat.

Hal had to go cool down in the bathroom for a few minutes. He was not ready for that. (Bruce is so fucking smug too. He’s been waiting FOREVER to give Hal a taste of his own medicine.)

Hal, introducing Bruce to the Lantern Corp: This is my pet bat. Careful, he bites.

Bruce, introducing Hal to new JL members: This is my partner. He’s been in training for ten years.

During an important strategy meeting, Hal waves his hand around, and Bruce just sighs. “What now, Lantern?” “Your plan of attack has like four holes in it.” “Where?” Hal gestures to the areas and suggests different strategies, and suddenly Bruce is like Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?

He lies in bed that night contemplating every single life event that’s lead up to Hal Fucking Jordan turning him on with his impeccable battle strategy.

Barry: I think Batman’s mad at me. He didn’t even react when I told him about the great rescue mission from last week. Hal: What do you mean? He was smiling the whole time. Barry: His face didn’t move an inch. Hal: You didn’t notice the lip twitch?

Batman has blackmail material on every single Justice League member, but only Hal has blackmail material on Bruce and the guts to use it. (Hal knows Bruce gets pedicures for fun. And he gets little designs on his toes too.)

Arthur: So when did you and Green Lantern start….you know. Bruce: No, I do not. What did we start? Arthur: You know what?! I think I forgot to walk my fish. Bye!

*Barry sees Hal with a hickey while they’re drinking coffee* Barry, jokingly: Did Bruce give you that? Hal: Yes, actually. How’d you know? Barry, backing away frantically: Oh okay, cool! Okay okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. Bruce, entering: What’s with him? Hal: I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to like the mug you bought me, though.

The JL has a betting pool called “BatLantern FMK” where they bet on which will happen first: will they fuck, marry, or kill each other?

Only Clark, Diana, and J’onn know that one of them happened already

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handmade-witch · 3 months

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Another round of Incorrect Quotes Generator x Slytherin Boys:

Part 1 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6

Mattheo: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Draco: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I’m not stupid, you know.

[Y/n]: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: She's the girl of my dreams!

Theodore: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams.

Mattheo: I have a lot of dreams!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Mattheo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

[Y/N]: I—

[Y/N]: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

☆☆☆

Draco: I have an idea.

[Y/n]: A good idea?

Draco: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

☆☆☆

*Draco is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*

Mattheo: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?

Theodore: Hopefully dead, I hated them.

Mattheo: Yeah, me too.

Draco, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Theodore: Oh, we've had worse.

☆☆☆

[Y/N], texting Mattheo: Text me when you’re home safely.

Mattheo: I’m home dangerously.

[Y/N]: Stop it.

Mattheo: I’m home lethally.

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Mattheo: We were helping [Y/N] write their vows, but they kicked us out because Lorenzo was making inappropriate suggestions.

Lorenzo: How is “Theodore, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

☆☆☆

[Y/N], talking about Mattheo: Is this a friend of yours, Draco?

Draco: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

☆☆☆

Theodore: What is wrong with you?

Mattheo: Loaded question. Elaborate.

☆☆☆

Draco: Guess what I'm about to get!

Blaise: On my nerves.

☆☆☆

Blaise: All of your existences are confusing.

The Squad: How so?

Blaise: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you deeply upsets me.

☆☆☆

Draco: How did you convince everyone to betray me? What did you offer them?

Blaise: I just asked if they wanted to embarass you and they all said yes.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Hey, are you okay?

[Y/N]: Yeah.

Theodore: You don't look okay...

[Y/N]: Then stop looking.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Draco.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Kill me nowwwww.

Mattheo: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: Lorenzo! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.

Lorenzo: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

☆☆☆

Draco: You read my diary?

Blaise: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

☆☆☆

Blaise: [Y/N] won’t come out of their room!

Mattheo: Just tell them I said something.

Blaise: Like what?

Mattheo: Anything factually incorrect.

Blaise, shrugging: If you say so.

[Y/N], arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Lorenzo: Theft.

Blaise: Disturbing the peace.

Theodore: Aggravated assault.

Draco: Arson.

Mattheo: All of the above. In that order, probably

☆☆☆

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Blaise, with Theodore and Mattheo behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Blaise: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Blaise: Lorenzo FUCKING FELL OFF!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I said ‘No’ to drugs, but they wouldn’t listen.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Lorenzo: You and me!

[Y/N]: *tearing up* Ok.

☆☆☆

Theodore: *yawns*

[Y/N]: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Theodore: Then you must be exhuasted.

Blaise: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

#slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #blaise zabini x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter universe

666 notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 6 months

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𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍��𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask.

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody.

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro.

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside.

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver.

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever.

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him.

What’s on the other side is worse.

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture.

“Surpriiise!!”

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting.

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck.

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.”

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh.

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?”

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.”

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?”

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt.

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle.

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.”

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed.

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.”

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin.

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on.

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up.

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead.

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.”

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose.

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.”

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.”

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens.

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.”

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.”

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.”

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?”

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.”

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be.

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.

“Why?”

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour.

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?”

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?”

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat.

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?”

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.”

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction.

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away.

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?”

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought.

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?”

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow.

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.”

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you.

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.”

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself?

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?”

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again.

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department.

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans.

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?”

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?”

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.”

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.”

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.”

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop.

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.”

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle.

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?”

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again.

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?”

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?”

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not.

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.”

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again.

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair.

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.

You gulp and automatically close your legs.

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.”

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —”

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest.

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.”

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating.

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.”

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.”

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?”

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right?

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.”

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be.

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.”

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving.

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass.

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette.

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down.

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?”

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?”

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.”

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.”

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.”

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.”

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.”

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?”

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.”

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.”

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward.

“We didn’t kill anybody there.”

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?”

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?”

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you.

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.”

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down.

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask.

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly.

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.”

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie.

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.”

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.”

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.”

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky.

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip.

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you.

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.”

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones.

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.”

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?”

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ”

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person.

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?”

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds.

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.”

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment.

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.”

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.”

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done.

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.”

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly.

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?”

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess.

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words.

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.”

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity.

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?”

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?”

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.”

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.”

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again.

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin.

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust.

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair.

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs.

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly.

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it.

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?”

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation.

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly.

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?”

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.”

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.”

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.”

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it.

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.”

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans.

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?”

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?”

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now.

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.”

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe.

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven.

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.”

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should.

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place.

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.”

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet.

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.”

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see.

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note.

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ”

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#nct fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #wayv smut #haechan smut #johnny smut #jaemin smut #jeno smut #jisung smut #jaehyun smut #taeyong smut #yuta smut

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yukinss · 3 months

Text

people’s princess | yt22

pairing: yuki tsunoda x fem!horner! reader summary: in which yuki is dating the christian horner’s daughter. note: i mentioned something awhile back about a horner!reader fic … so i kinda delivered. it’s kinda short since i learned that on mobile i only get a 10 image limit 🌝 trust i will be doing the rest of my smaus on web, so future smaus will be longer! promise, cross my heart! note 2: i started this before alphatauri changed their name … and i’m most definitely not using the visacashapprb @ in my smau. i love you, yuki, but absolutely not.

ynhorner

liked by yukitsunoda0511, christianhorner, and others

ynhorner yukiroos !!

view all comments

user i didn’t know yuki and oscar were chill like that

yukitsunoda0511 i was attacked. it’s not funny to post my attack

⤷ ynhorner jerry didn’t attack you, he just wanted a hug

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 he literally attacked me

maxverstappen1 barf what is that second picture

⤷ ynhorner barf what is your face

⤷ maxverstappen1 i’m telling christian

⤷ ynhorner you’re dead to me

user i love yn and max’s friendship

gerihalliwellhorner missing you both!! ❤️

liked by ynhorner and yukitsunoda0511

redbullracing looking forward to seeing you in the OUR garage again

⤷ alphataurif1 um you mean OUR garage

⤷ ynhorner the girls a fighting 🫢

pierregasly barf gross nasty

⤷ ynhorner this is why i like kika more than you

⤷ francisa.cgomes i love you too 🫶🫶🫶

yukitsunoda0511

liked by ynhorner, pierregasly, and others

yukitsunoda0511 family dinner 🍽️

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gerihalliwellhorner it was lovely having you, yuki!! we have to do this again soon!

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 thank you for having me, geri! checking my schedule as we speak!

user yuki tsunoda and ginger spice, the duo i didn’t know i need

pierregasly my place next 😁

ynhorner idk whose dog is in the third pic … she was very sweet though

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 i heard something about petsitting for a friend

user OTIS

christianhorner not very family friendly pg clean on the third slide

⤷ ynhorner don’t you have ears to clean, old man?

⤷ christianhorner you’re no longer welcomed in the red bull

garage

⤷ alphataurif1 WE WON ‼️‼️

maxverstappen1 i don’t remember getting an invite to family dinner 🌝

user the fact that max didn’t get invited is crazy to me

redbullracing stealing our team principal i see …

user THE EAR WAX COMMENT FROM YN IJBOL

user yuki with his in laws, we love to see it

alphataurif1

liked by yukitsuonda0511, ynhorner, and others

alphataurif1 thx for banning yn from your garage redbullracing, she’s ours now 🥰

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ynusername i love you alphataurif1 admin <33

⤷ alphataurif1 I LOVE YOU TOO YN !!!! <3333

yukitsunoda0511 i could get used to this

user THE CAPTION

maxverstappen1 please keep her, i don’t want her in the garage anymore

⤷ ynhorner this is why you weren’t invited to family dinner

redbullracing WE didn’t ban her, boss man did (we will be getting her back)

user i love seeing alphatauri and red bull fight over yn, because i would too

user yn is the face of alphatauri (trust)

ynhorner

liked by yukitsuonda0511, maxverstappen1, and others

ynhorner BOYFI APPRECIATED POST !!

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yukitsunoda0511 i love you to the moon and saturn

⤷ ynhorner yuki :( i love YOU to the moon and saturn!

user MOTHER AND FATHER

liamlawson30 he’s got a little something on his face

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 blocked. reported.

user the boyfriend effect looks good on him

danielricciardo my fav couple 🫶

liked by ynhorner and yukitsunoda0511

user they make me sick (in the most loving way possible)

maxverstappen1 you guys are cute i guess

⤷ ynhorner i know! tell kelly i’m looking forward to seeing her in the paddock this weekend 😁

⤷ maxverstappen1 👍

user yuki is so lucky …

nyckdevries scooter race rematch when?

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 rematch?? there was a scooter race??

⤷ ynhorner you were busy with car stuff, so nyck and i

decided to race scooters on the trace 😁

user WHEN IS IT MY TURN

user idc what anyone says, i love nyck and yn’s little friendship

⤷ user no fr it feels like it came out of nowhere, but it works

#🕊️ ₊ sweet nothings #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda imagine #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 3 months

Text

A/n: u guys r gonna have to imagine alot w these pics 😭 but i wrote whos supposed to be who so it makes a bit more sense!!!!! THIS ONLY MAKES SENSE IF YOU READ THE FIRST BIT

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 3,308,252 people

Prepare for the ‘Anastasia’ photo dump 😈

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tomblyth: yummy cake 🍰😋

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: i'm craving it so bad rn 🤤

user1: THE MOVIE WAS SO GOOD WTAF

user2: Y/n and Tom's on screen chemistry is insane...

user3: her smile in the second picture 🥹

user4: empress Marie was a slay

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: she honestly was

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 2,920,163 people

this is what we gotta say to those who haven’t watched Anastasia yet 🖕🖕🖕 (we’re kidding)

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user1: how was filming in St. Petersburg??

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: had the best time of my life 🙈 St. Petersburg is so gorgeous.

user2: yesss feed us w more Anastasia bts please!!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: yes ma’am 🫡

↘️ user3: BAHAHHAHAAH

user4: everyone go watch Anastasia rn. It’s a masterpiece😟

user5: she’s so gorgeous it’s not fair

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 3,027,496 people

pics of me eating the most 21st century food in my 20th century fits 😋‼️

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tomblyth: fun fact, I took ALL of these

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 😂😂😂

user1: this is so funny to me LMAO

user2: the fits 🤌

↘️ user3: THEY WERE EVERYTHING!

user4: so this is what u guys do behind the scenes? eating?

↘️ tomblyth: yup.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pretty much!!

tomblyth

Liked by 4,305,262 people

‘Anastasia’ out now in the cinemas!!!! So incredibly grateful to have worked with such amazing and talented people, experiencing it with y/n made it even better 💗

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y/n_y/l/n: i’m tearing up…. It was so much fun, I’m going to miss everything about it 💔

↘️ tomblyth: gonna miss seeing u in ur costume 🥹 you looked absolutely gorgeous

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: awee I love u!!!!

↘️ user1: my parents r so adorable 😣

user2: third pic is everything!

user3: they did so good with the casting!

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 3,947,028 people

St. Petersburg weather was smth else 🥶

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actorwhoplaysrasputin: it wasn’t even that cold y/n 🙄

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: says the person who wore 4 jackets in between takes 😟

↘️ actorwhoplaysrasputin: zip it.

↘️ user1: I love this duo 😂

actorwhoplaysphlegmenkoff: it was a pleasure to work with such young, talented actors like yourselves!!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: awee thank you actors name!! It was an honour to work with you!!

↘️ tomblyth: appreciate it man 🤝

user2: them casting actors name as Rasputin was the best decision ever. Can’t see anyone else for that role!

user3: this movie had such iconic actors and actresses 😭

↘️ user4: I just know this movie was expensive 😃

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 4,307,287 people

Anastasia dump pt. 2974822? 😂

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user1: FIRST PIC HAHAHAHA

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: felt xtra cute so I had to 😛

↘️ user2: Tom not looking amused in the back 🤣

↘️ tomblyth: I’m used to it

actorwhoplaysvladimir: miss you guys!!!

↘️ tomblyth: you act as if we don’t live in the same street 🤣

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: literally walk the few steps and you’ll see us lol

user3: I can’t wait for more of your bts vids to come out on yt bc man they’re so entertaining!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: I’m posting a 30 min bts vlog tomorrow 😙

↘️ user4: YAYYY

↘️ user5: y/n has a yt channel and I haven’t heard about it?

↘️ user6: she’s had it since she was in high school 😭

tomblyth

Liked by 6,958,212 people

Can’t believe ‘Anastasia’ has been nominated for best film adaptation of books!!! Thank you everyone who voted :)

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y/n_y/l/n: THIS IS INSANEE AHHHH

↘️ tomblyth: 🥳🎉

themichaellockshin: 🤩🤩

actorwhoplaysnicholas: hell yeah!!

user1: they’re so cute omg 🥺

user2: actresswhoplaysdowagermarie is such a slay 😭

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: she literally is!

↘️ tomblyth: we love her!

↘️ user2: ahhh you both responded 😭

themichaelockshin

Liked by 10,037,297

Cheers again for the love and support for this movie!! To all the cast members I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are all such talented people and it was wonderful working with you all!

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: thank you Michael ❤️ will never forget this experience :)

↘️ themichaelockshin: you and Tom were spectacular 🤩

tomblyth: what a journey we went through!

actorwhoplaysrasputin: miss you all!

actorwhoplaysolga: thank you Michael!! Filming with you all was a wonderful experience 🫶

user1: ice cream during the winter?

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: yup. What abt it 😛

user2: awe I love this cast sm

↘️ user3: literally the best cast

#tom blyth #fanfiction #tom blyth x actress!reader #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth angst #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x yn #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #social media #social media au #actress reader #actress au

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teacasket · 1 year

Text

omg

genre: fluff au: gamer au, streamer au warnings: none word count: 0.6k pairing: gn!reader x lee felix song: omg by new jeans

THEY KEEP ON ASKING ME, “WHO IS HE?”

Chat won’t stop asking, despite how many times you try to steer the topic at hand to something else. Their opinions on your current Animal Crossing build? Ignored. If you should crochet a cardigan or bucket hat for your cat? Little to no responses. Lavender latte or milk tea for Drink of the Day? Lavender latte wins, but Chat immediately goes back to your hidden boyfriend.

This is what you get for forgetting to mute your mic. You had a whole phone call about dinner before realizing your mistake, and now everyone knows that wholesome, cozy Twitch streamer lightberry swears like a sailor when discussing pork katsu and calls a special someone “baby.” It’s been clipped already, you just know. At least you didn’t put him on speaker.

“‘100 subs if you tell us his name?’” you read. You'll indulge them because indulging Chat makes for good content. “I’ll tell you literally anything else.”

If you told them his name, you would end up trending on Twitter.

“‘Is he also a gamer?’ Yeah. Mostly League, Genshin, Apex. He’s been trying to get into Valorant. Now, 100 subs, please.”

Felix, otherwise known as LixInABox, is a gamer and streaming personality who has nearly a million subs on Twitch. He has a partner, an elusive figure exclusively referred to as “My Partner.” There are rumors that My Partner (MP) doesn’t actually exist and that they’re a cover for his singleness.

“‘20 subs if you tell us his rank?’ Sure. He's pretty high in everything. I can’t ever duo with him, except in Genshin.”

When he started streaming, he was primarily known for his League of Legends skills. Low Masters on a good day, Diamond 3 on the bad ones.

“‘Show us a picture.’ You know what, I’ll do that for free.”

Chat is not happy when you pull up a photo of Marshal from Animal Crossing. To be fair, he does resemble Felix a little.

While they continue to pester you about his identity, you continue terraforming your butterfly-shaped lake. When Marshal walks by with a sandwich, you make sure to point him out.

“There’s my boyfriend,” you say as you glance at the chat, which is scrolling by so quickly, your eyes can barely keep up.

IT’S LIX

MP MP MP MP

LIXBERRY

You’ve got a ship name already? How did they figure it out? Did Felix reach a million subs? He joked that he would reveal who MP was once he hit a million, and you sort of gave him the green light, but surely he would tell you beforehand? You sit motionless at your chair and try to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve straight up lying.

LIXBERRY LIXBERRY

MP IS REAL

HE’S LIVE

It doesn’t matter what you do. By doing nothing, you’ve confirmed it, so you go back to how it all started—you call Felix, live on stream. You leave your mic unmuted intentionally this time.

“Hey, what did you do?” are your first words. You have his stream up as well, so you see the blush on his face. “You’re live on mine, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything! They figured it out! I mentioned that I was gonna have pork katsu for dinner, and like five minutes later, they connected it back to you. What did you do?”

“I forgot to mute during our call,” you admit. “And I also gave them hints in exchange for subs, but I didn’t think they were anything obvious.”

He looks at his chat and laughs. “You basically told them what I’m famous for. And a picture of Marshal? No wonder.”

“My bad. See you at dinner?”

He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

Chat explodes. You and Felix will never live this down, but it feels better than you thought. And you really don’t want to admit it, but lixberry is really, really cute.

HE’S THE ONE THAT’S LIVING IN MY SYSTEM, BABY.

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trulyhblue · 4 months

Text

Communication

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Dutch! Reader Blurb

Warnings: fluff, REALLY bad translated Dutch, language barrier.

Masterlist

___________________

Moving from your childhood club AFC Ajax was the hardest change of your life, but the easiest choice of your career.

You signed your first professional contract with them when you were fifteen, making your club debut in the same year. After six months of fitting into the squad, and having the opportunity to play in the Champions League as a substitute, you were asked to play for your first international camp against New Zealand, where you came away with a 2-1 win. From then, you have continued to be chosen for the National Team’s 23-player squad, continuously representing them as both a starter and a sub.

You were known for your agility, speed, and footwork, both on the ball and against both attacking and defending players. Being a midfielder, your job to maintain possession and create chances felt like a breeze to you, and your pure, sheer talent landed you with many of the most assists for the past three years.

Despite the friends you made at Ajax, you knew that opportunities to strengthen your player profile and widen your skills across the world were a dream of yours. You were a huge fan of Arsenal growing up, your parents taking you to games when they could.

When the opportunity arose to represent your country at the 2023 Women’s World Cup, you don't remember doing anything but crying for the days following your selection. You played your heart out that whole tournament. And while you didn't make it to the Semis, you walked away with a once-in-a-lifetime experience, with clubs worldwide wanting you as a part of their team.

Moving to Arsenal was a no-brainer. Not only were you a massive fan of the name itself, but they were among the best players in the world. You knew Victoria and Viv from the Oranje Leeuwinnens, and you had been told that you’d move in with Vic for the first couple of months upon your arrival, so the weight of the move felt lighter than many anticipated. You were roommates with Vic during Camps. But, in contrast to your Netherlands teammates, you didn't know an inch of English.

Well, other than the obvious words like Hello, Good Morning, and Goodbye, you were hopeless.

So, when you arrived on your first day of training alongside Victoria, you couldn't help but cringe at what was about to unfold.

“Ze weten dat je geen Engels spreekt, y/n.” They know you don't speak English. She spoke, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into her chest. “Ze zijn allemaal erg aardig.” They are all very nice.

You didn't reply, choosing to keep your arm around Victoria’s waist, your eyes filtering over each of the girls.

“Ah, hier is ze!” Ah, here she is. Viv said, walking out from beside Beth Mead, jogging towards you, eloping you into a crushing hug.

“Ik heb je gemist, y/n, hoe gaat het met je?” I’ve missed you, y/n. How have you been? She asked, holding onto your shoulders as she kissed the top of your head. The London chill meant that you were wearing a black long-sleeve under your shirt, its hem being detained in your hands. The chill of the air nipped your cheeks. The Netherlands were cold, but so was London.

“Hetzelfde. Ik ben goed.” Same. I'm good. You let out meekly, noticing a bouncy Beth Mead waddle over to the three of you, holding her hand out for you to shake. You had played against Beth before, and of course, you knew her from Viv, so you made sure to look her in the eye when you shook her hand.

“Hi!” She sounded cheerfully, keeping a ball at her feet. “I’m Beth!”

“Y/n.” You replied, trying to reciprocate her delight with a small smile. “I'm Y/n.”

Your eyes widened slightly when a ball came flying at the four of you, causing you all to yelp out and duck before it hit anyone. Everyone looked in the direction the ball had come from, a strong, Irish and Australian accent on cue to yell out.

“Sorry!” The duo cringed, running over to retrieve the ball with a grimace.

“Katie kicked it.” The Australian one said, but you didn't understand. You saw the pained expression on her face, and how the Irish woman, who you knew as Katie, glared at her in shock.

“It was a joint effort, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, fuck off, no it wasn't—”

“Ze vechten.” They’re fighting. Victoria muttered to you, making you laugh.

“Ik dacht.” I figured.

The two girls were silenced after another woman came marching up to the growing group, looking at you with a stern expression before softening the crease between her eyebrows. You knew she was Kim Little by her motherly stare.

Next to her was Jennifer Beattie, an Arsenal Defender. She had her arms crossed around her chest, shaking her head in false disapproval before strolling over to you, calling out to Jonas, whom you had met when you discussed your contract.

You felt like crawling into a hole and dying, the whole occasion of being introduced to everyone made your skin crawl. Of course, no one necessarily made you feel out of place, but you refused to let Victoria’s arm go throughout the whole ordeal. You knew most of the players due to their prominence in women’s football. Most of these women set the scene for how the sport is seen today, and the mere thought of them knowing who you were was surreal.

The two girls that were arguing before, Caitlin Foord and Katie McCabe were the first to come up to you. Victoria told you they were sorry, and you shook your head and brushed the apology off, not really knowing how to say the right words in English.

Steph Catley and Leah Williamson came up to you next, saying very few yet simple words before hugging you and wishing you luck. Alessia Russo was next, and you couldn't help but giggle as her cheeks went red as she started to speak.

“Erm— sorry, hold on.” The striker looked at Pelova, who prodded her on with her hands. Russo looked back at you, trying hard to remember what she wanted to say.

“Leuk… Leuk je te ontmoeten. Erm- sorry. Ik hoop… Ik hoop dat je geniet… van… Londen.” It’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy London. You knew from her strained expression that she was well aware of how much she butchered the language with her English accent, but you pursed your lips together and smiled gratefully. The thought was genuine.

“Thank you.” You muttered, your slim vocabulary in English coming in handy. “It’s… nice to meet you, too.”

Alessia looked to be most accomplished with herself, asking Victoria a question before she was cut off by Jonas’ booming voice.

You waited, trying your hardest to latch onto an idea of what he was saying, but gave up when you felt someone behind you pulling you away from Vic’s side, leading towards the other end of the pitch.

When you faced the girl in front of you, she must've realised that she had startled you, since her eyes widened at your expression.

She was short, but your height, with a scrunchie in her hair and a training jumper over her Jersey. You couldn't count the hundreds of freckles that patterned her face, her doe-like Brown eyes looking at you with a mix of shock and awe.

“Hello, my name’s Kyra. Steph told me your name is Y/n… Jonas said that we are partners, so you can start if you want.”

You didn't say anything. You wish you could, but the words that left her lips were foreign. You felt a flush run across your face, humiliation at your lack of words hitching your breath. You must've looked so stupid since the girl waited for you to reply. Everyone was set off into pairs, a ball adorned between each of them.

The girl in front of you had the ball, picking it up and fidgeting with it in her hands. You stared at each other in silence, neither of you particularly knowing what to do. It wasn't until the girl put the ball to her feet, kicking it towards you, that you communicated in some way.

Instead of talking, the girl showed you the drills, pretending to be Jonas by overexaggerating her actions by marching around, waving her hands vigorously, and using the ball to make you laugh at her ridiculous impression of your Manager.

Her number was thirty-two, yours was thirty-three, and somehow it made you feel more of a connection with her. She was very patient if you didn't understand what you were doing the first time around, and you began to wonder if number thirty-two was trying hard not to talk just for the fun of it.

She never made you feel as if you were annoying her with the lack of audible contact, in fact, she looked to find it a fun game between the pair of you.

No one chose to interrupt or try and sever the consecutive numbers, finding Kyra’s unusual silence amicable in contrast to her typical outgoing self. Both Viv and Vic were eyeing you from where they stood with their respective partners, hesitant about the choice of Kyra as your partner, as you two were very different personalities. But after a while, the two Dutch women stopped looking to see if you were okay, hearing your faint giggles from the view of a giddy Kyra enough to reassure them.

Because of this, training went by quickly for everyone. Today was a pretty easy session, similar to the ones you knew from back home. You knew you were wrapping up when Kyra started juggling the ball, singing a loud tune before passing it over to you.

You moved your feet up and down as you juggled the ball from one foot to the other. Kyra giggled when she missed the ball you passed to her, tripping over her own feet and rolling around on the floor, clutching her stomach in laughter. You did this for a while, before Kyra dragged you across the field and to the stack of drink bottles.

You didn't really know where you were going, so you let Kyra take your hand and lead the way, walking behind her as you passed the bike rack and towards the indoor fields.

You didn't begin to doubt Kyra until you had pretty much walked the length of the training centre, where you had long discarded the fields you were once training on.

“Kyra.” You ushered, making the Australian stop in her tracks at the sound of your voice. She pivoted on her heel, staring at you absolutely gobsmacked.

You looked around, trying to find the words to get across what you wanted to say.

“Say it in Dutch,” Kyra answered, catching a glimpse of your reticence.

You thought to yourself for a second before nodding. “Waar gaan we heen?”

Kyra’s eyes widened, obviously not comprehending a word you said. She looked around, trying to find a solution.

She grabbed your hand again and led you down another corridor, pushing past a few doors, weaving through the never-ending maze of rooms before finally making your way back to the locker rooms, where Vic had taken you to drop off your possessions before training.

Kyra rushed to pick up her phone, waddling over to you, typing away vigorously and smiling up at you when a voice rang from the device.

“Ik kom uit Australië.” I'm from Australia. The voice spoke.

You laughed, taking the phone from the girl’s hands and writing down a reply.

“I know. I can tell by your funny accent.”

Kyra gasped, snatching the phone off you and furiously writing down a retort. You couldn't help but gape at her fondly, biting your lip at the sight of her concentration.

“Mijn accent is niet grappig, mijn grappen wel.” My accent is not funny, my jokes are. The phone sounded.

Before you could type out your own reply, Kyra went back to typing, but instead of letting the audio play, she squinted down at the translated sentence.

“Ik zou je… veel grappen kunnen… vertellen, weet je? Zou je ze graag… willen… horen?” I could tell you heaps of jokes, you know? Would you like to hear them?

For some reason, the Dutch that left the Australian’s lips left you gushing, nodding your head up and down as you grabbed her phone.

When you translated the sentence you had written down, looking down at the words in utter confusion, you sighed. Kyra was definitely no expert in your language, but you were just downright pathetic in hers.

She must've noticed your dismay since she looked over your shoulder, pointing at the first word. “Yes… but do you… have time... to tell… them all?”

She waited for you to sound out each word, humming and nodding in recognition when you repeated the sounds.

She smiled at you, taking her phone. You waited for the audio to play back to you. Kyra’s smirk only grew when she handed her phone back to you, the Contact App up on her phone — your name typed in and phone number blank.

You laughed, and she did too.

You could get use to this communication.

(just pretend it's you)

arsenalwfc : Cooney-Cross showing Y/L/N the ropes before our big clash on Sunday!

Comments:

kyracooneyx — best partner‼️ Laten we gaan gunners (let's go)

^ yourusername — 💗💗

^ user2 — THE DUTCH 😭😭😭

^ user3 — sleeping on the highway tonight, they're so cute 💔

User7 — the eyes chica 😍😍

katie_mccabe11 — quietest training session yet LOVE YOU Y/N

^ kyracooneyx — um rude 😡

vivannemiedema — Where did you two go after training?!

^ kyracooneyx — um, home? 🥰

^ victoriapelova — HAHAHAHA

kimlittle10 — welcome Y/N ❤️

^ yourusername — 💗

User1 — the duo we never knew we needed 🙌🏼🙌🏼

*liked by kyracooneyx

bethmead_ — happy to have you here Y/n!!!!

^ yourusername — Thank you ❤️

^ kyracooneyx — what about me?

^ caitlinfoord — what about you? 🤣

^ user4 — HAVSJDVSJSHSJS I'm dying

User5 — Y/n doesn't speak English, how did they even talk? Lol

^ user6 — Viv and Vic are there. I'm sure she was fine.

User7 — she's not even that good, at this point they're just getting anyone.

^ kyracooneyx — womp womp

* liked by yourusername

_____________

Number Thirty-Three 💗

You : what does ‘womp womp’ mean?

Ky : Niets, net als het. Xx Nothing, just like it. Xx

__________

#kyra cooney cross #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord #kim little #leah williamson #vivianne miedema #beth mead #woso community #woso fanfics #fluff

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agendabymooner · 5 months

Text

ice ice baby ! oliver b. x ofc (driver!raikkonen!reader)

summary: kimi and vera raikkonen’s eldest daughter, romania ‘(a)roma’ coppola-raikkonen, debuted in formula one as an aston martin rookie for the mexico grand prix free practice alongside her designated ‘best friend’ ollie bearman, who drove for haas.

AND everyone seemed to be interested in their peculiar friendship… which was funny because they don’t seem to be friends in that way seeing as they referred to themselves by their ship name ‘the ice bears.’

content warning: use of explicit language, fluff, mentions of overprotective!dad!kimi raikkonen, simp!ollie, pet names, flirting on main, established relationship-esque (friends to lovers), brief mentions of coppola!ofc (vera) x kimi raikkonen, f2 drivers clowning each other, we bare bears reference

note: making this because i’m trying to immerse myself in other categories of motorsport that isn’t just f1 🫶 here’s some ollie bearman content

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

tagged astonmartinf1, artgp_official, olliebearman

liked by theopourchaire21, arthur_leclerc, frederikvestiofficial

theopourchaire21 what happened to “through thick and thin theo” 🤧 what happened to “i’ll tag you in our photos later théo”

jolauriraikkonen my sister is a liar

kimimatiasraikkonen watch your words, johann

jolauriraikkonen oops my bad

frederikvestiofficial why am i not here 💀 i thought you’re gonna post our dump pics from the paddock but screw me and théo ig 😕

romaraikkonen 🥲 why am i being attacked

jackdoohan wait y’all got photos? 😀

user1 LMFAO NOT JACK BEING LEFT OUT BY THE QUADRUPLETS 😭✋ poor bby

artgp_official green looks good on you 🤩💚 liked by romaraikkonen

astonmartinf1 ice ice baby! 🥶🧊 liked by romaraikkonen

veracopparaikko happy to see you and the boys, aroma 😍 liked by romaraikkonen

theopourchaire21 mrs. raikkonen 🫶

jackdoohan 💪💗

frederikvestiofficial happy to see you too vera! ✨🙏

olliebearman theopourchaire21 jackdoohan frederikvestiofficial 🙂🙂 liked by romaraikkonen

user2 he’s staking his claim fr 😩

kimimatiasraikkonen 🤔🫥

user3 RIP OLLIE 😭

arthur_leclerc favouritism now that i see it 🙂

olliebearman as you should

user4 girlypop is one step away from barking at everyone and keeping roma from the boys 😭😭😭

olliebearman user4 🐕

user4 on it boss 🫡

tagged olliebearman

liked by felipedrugovich, victormartinsfr, arthur_leclerc

user1 ICE BEARS CONTENT 🥶😍

ferraridriveracademy the icegirl and our favourite simp 💗🫡

arthur_leclerc the most nauseating duo in the academy 🤩

theopourchaire21 real 💪

romaraikkonen cry about it 😩🙏

veracopparaikko soooo cute 🥰 liked by romaraikkonen

kimimatiasraikkonenn no he’s not 😑 liked by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen DAD PLZ— 💀

user2 at least we know which raikkonen favours ollie and which one would rather leave him out in the cold

user3 live laugh love overprotective kimi

olliebearman grind on deez n— liked and pinned by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen pinning this so everyone in the grid can shame you 😋

arthur_leclerc ollie… 😰

frederikvestiofficial jail behaviour

victormartinsfr put him in the doghouse

kimimatiasraikkonen 😐

theopourchaire21 TELL HIM KIMI!!!

olliebearman that’s my biggest regret ever.

romaraikkonen as it should

user4 y’all worried about putting ollie in the doghouse when they’re out here actually posting couple shit??? uhm????

user5 was this allowed???

romaraikkonen yeah

arthur_leclerc kimi caught her and ollie kissing once that’s why they’re open about it now haha 😂

romaraikkonen ARTHUR!!

olliebearman the lad isn’t wrong 😑

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan

547 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 5 months

Note

Hello! Recently I've been reading your works (usually twst, disney and sometimes oc) and im really interested.

I would like to request yandere cinderella x reader please if thats okay!

Im not sure if there is any request rules i should follow since i cant really find any or if its open so sorry if i broke any of them! Btw no need to answer this if you aren't interested or dont have the energy, im just curious in how you would write them since they are very unique and nicely written. Remember please take care of yourself and take rest when you need to!! (since you literally post almost everyday)

I try I do post everday, though I'm surprised anyone noticed 🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Genderbend Cinderella x Reader

To say you didn’t like you’re step-brother would be an understatement.

You hated him.

Him and all that he stood for.

It was disgusting, how wicked Ellwick was to you and your family. Not wicked in the way that he looked down on you; more so in the way that his existence was an obstacle to yours. Currently he made it his mission to insert himself where he never belonged, constantly upending your rightful place. You remembered the time before the single father and son duo shoved their way into your family’s lives. It was peaceful, well as peaceful as life with your family could be. Guns, knifes, drugs, cement shoes–the life that meant serving your family and running the city from behind the scenes. Your mother, your brother, and the many associates that joined your family.

What can you say? Blood is binding especially when spilt.

Cinder Ellwick and his father came into your home under the silly notion of ‘healthy’ love. As if fighting alongside one another wasn’t love, these men marched into your lives expecting to ‘fix’ your already perfect family.

Your brother and the many others could spot the foolishness in their morale, unfortunately your mother could not. Which devastated her the moment her new husband got his rightful comeuppance.

“He shouldn’t have joined the game, if he didn’t know how to play.”

Your brother scoffed under his breath during your mother’s mournful eulogy. You couldn’t help but agree. Only irritating you more when your mother dressed in black brought the blonde-headed boy to you two saying something along the lines of him being a permanent burden on your family.

“It’s what he would’ve wanted.”

So what? It was his fault for getting involved! His fault for getting kidnapped! His fault for refusing to arm himself, when you warned him! So why did you, your family, have to live with the nuisance?

“I’m going to try my best, to be apart of this family. Properly this time.”

“That’s good to hear, Ellwick.”

Not long after that he took up the role as you’re family’s cleanup crew, eliminating those your family marked. Unpaid debts and traitors were his targets, the scum of your faction–perfect level for Ellwick to begin truly becoming apart of this family. You’d think that’d be enough for him to feel included. But that’s just like him to be so greedy.

“May I come with you on that mission?”

Ellwick asked, still panting from running down the halls from Mother’s office trying to catch up to you and your brother. You both were prepared, dressed to the nines in comparison to him who was in a dirtied leather suit. It'd be a burden and embarrassment for him to come.

Your brother laughed, ” No chance! Look at you covered in cinders again! What’d you do, wrestle your target in a fire pit?”

Ellwick awkwardly smiled as your brother held his stomach. Laughter rising and eyes widening as if he had an epiphany. He points at the blonde, who barely winces at the pressure.

“Kind of like–Cinderwick! Haha!”

You rolled your eyes as he repeated the name inbetween his belly laughs. Ellwick’s smile was twitching on the otherhand turning his attention to you. Glaring at him you ushered your brother away, barely turning your head to the crushed boy.

“You can’t. We won’t be letting an outsider handle things as private as this.”

Many of your interactions would go like this. Cinderwick inserting himself in your personal business and you putting him in his place, your latest mission was no different. Only that you were older and more responsibility will have fallen to you. You had to step up more than ever.

“Alright my children as we discussed you will be infiltrating the gathering. Your target is the first son of the Mayor. Blackmail, romance him, kiss up, we need a foothold on the city. I can only trust my children.”

“Than why is he here?”

You shifted your eyes to the blond hitman who was standing barely a foot you and your brother. Your mother sighed.

“We need all hands on deck. Our competitors are in attendance as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if they try anything and I just can’t have my babies be put in danger.”

She held both you and your brother’s cheeks pinching it a little. Leaning into her touch you happily smiled at her over-endearment. Whereas your brother recoiled and wriggled away nursing his cheek.

“Aw geez Ma will you stop.”

“Now my children.” She looked to Ellwick.”All my children. I wish you the best.”

______________________________________________________________

It was almost commendable, how fast Cinderwick managed to do it. Wooing the son of the mayor and leading him on a wild goose chase that ultimately led to a grand proposal. To which he accepted.

There was a nervousness about him being the victor; a sudden power handed to someone who wasn’t apart of the family. He was in a position of power, a position that allowed him to string your family along.

“Congratulations my son! We’re happy you’ve found love in such a place!”

Sugarcoated words and fake pearly smiles were the next step in the mission. Officially tying the mayor to your family…all with a man who wasn’t apart of the family.

“Oh thank you step-mother! I can’t wait to have you and the family at our wedding.”

Your mother’s eye twitched at the ‘step’ but she maintained her smile letting Cinderwick cuddle into his fiance’s arm as they continued to chatter. It was revolting that it was he who returned to the estate with a cocky smile and a ring on his finger.

“Well you told all your children to do your best and they tried. So I will take the mantle up…as long as you agree to my terms.”

The following sentence had your mother sending you and your brother out of the room–treatment originally reserved for an outsider like him. Your brother stomped away dropping his emotionless persona, you followed.

“ARGH! How the heck did that slimy cinderblock idiot get ahead of us!? This is ridiculous!”

“...We tried…Arthur don’t do what I think you’re going to do.”

He turned to you the fire in his eyes directed to you.

“Tried?! We should’ve easily bested that bag of soot!”

Turning back around he made his way to his office slamming his mini fridge open to reveal a plethora of beers and cheap wine bottles. You thought you threw those out. You debated staying as he quickly began to chug the drinks haphazardly dropping the finished cans to the ground.

“Arthur. Don’t drink anything else.”

“Why!? Why wasn’t it me or you even!?”

“Well for one, typical romance isn’t exactly our field of expertise. I don’t know what you exp–”

You were cutoff by the ceramic smashing near the wall behind your head. Barely missing you it was lucky all you got was a cut from the ricochet glass shatter. It didn’t bother you, it seemed shallow, so you pressed further entering the room more. Closing and locking the door behind you as you closed in on your brother aiming to simply hug him.

It didn’t stop his drinking bout but it did bring him to a wobbly pause. Letting you slowly walk him away from the desk the alcohol sat. As if he was being taunted once he got barely three steps away he wrenched himself from your grip darting towards the alcohol. In his raw distracted strength he barely pushed you back into the decorative cabinet.

You would have repeated your attempt if it weren’t for the sudden grip of Ellwick’s leather glove on your wrist. Naturally you pulled yourself away or tried to. Struggling against his bone breaking hold, you ultimately relented as Arthur began to shove off the contents on his desk. Ellwick easily shoved you out of the room, successfully doing so. With that same force he pushes you against the wall, trapping you against it with his narrowed irises and presence alone.

“What are you doing?!”

“Its none of your business.”

“It is every bit my business! Why would you go anywhere near him when he’s in a drunken rage?”

“Because he’s family!” Your voice cracked with emotion, daring to look up at his softened blue eyes. With faux cough, you fixed yourself staring head on to the blonde before slipping past him.

“I don’t expect you to understand that though.”

Speed-walking out of the hall, your only goal was to return to your room hoping to finally relieve the burning sensation in your eyes. Ellwick on the other hand watched you walk away more specifically the cut that had let blood of yours trickle down.

In a fury like none other Ellwick made his way to the closed door. It was time to end this.

For good.

_____________________________________________________________

“My son. I want you to know I will always love your mother and I’ll never stop loving her.”

“Right.”

“But I’ve found someone who makes me happy! Someone who will cherish me and you!”

“Okay.”

“The thing is…she has a very different line of work.”

Ellwick wasn’t sold. Even as young as he was there wasn’t an inherent attraction to the mafia-life. When he had the chance to he’d read a torrent of love-stories and twisted family relations all with mafia environments. It usually ended in death, somehow bringing a foreboding cloud over this new developement.

*Click*

“Whoa whoa little one I get that I’m not a replacement for any–”

“My gun. Take it.”

“E-excuse me?”

Ellwick didn’t really register you before this. Eyes widening as someone as tiny as you easily cocked and flipped the butt of a gun in the direction of his father. Wielding the weapon he’d only seen on those forbidden adult movies with such ease. A silent urgency on your part, you were offering your gun with a custom handle of your favorite color.

It was an uncharacteristic show of kindness.

The first he’d seen in a while.

Since the announcement of your parent’s engagement there was a tension birthed among your closest members and your family. It was a clear sentiment that they dared not express with Ellwick in the room or their boss for that matter.

‘You’re going to be a target. You’re going to die.’

Everyone wanted to say it. Hint at it. But the air was too thick and they were too scared to break the silence.

But not you.

You were the only one to tell it to him straight. Other than Ellwick himself. Of course the old geezer didn’t listen, avidly refusing to take your weapon and then attempting to get the weapon back from you.

It made you his favorite.

To think underneath such a cold exterior there was something soft–small but soft. Its what Ellwick told himself when you’d glare and insult him. He’s never found himself doing the same for your mother and brother. Only finding it in him to imagine their tortuous ends at his hands, he could never do that with you. Even when he began to do his work, he’d be all the more motivated when imagining two-thirds of his step-family.

Step-family. He didn’t like that title.

He hated associating you with that.

He liked you a lot more than that of a step-family.

He could handle the exclusion, the insults, the glares, all of it but he couldn’t have you being in the arms of someone else. So he pulled something he’d thought he buried long ago, charming the mayor’s son.

Having an influential leader’s heir willing to bend to his every whim and need made him powerful.

A threat.

So when your mother came to him practically begging for his forgiveness, Ellwick knew this was his chance to set everything in motion. So when you and your brother angrily departed he was prepared.

“The bit of your faction, handselected at my beck and call.”

“Done. You inform us of the policies and actions of the mayor?”

“Policies and upcoming legislation only. I’m not stalking my in-law.’

“Fine.“

“We meet once a month, I’ll come to you.”

“We can do that. Be willing to let your siblings visit you in-home during ermengenies?”

“Yes…I want (Y/n).”

“Excuse me?”

“I want (Y/n).

“You can’t be serious—”

“I am. I want full ownership of (Y/n) their activities, everything. Otherwise I’ll be inclined to fully inform the mayor and police department of what your true business entails.”

“I can’t possibly give you my child! Who do you think I am?!”

Ellwick made a face. Naturally and quickly pulling a gun out of his suit, earning a horrified reaction from his stepmother who was staring at the barrel. It’s not that Ellwick was unaware of the metal detectors and constant pat downs but when you’re a trained assassin this is light work.

“The same idiot, who thought’d I’d always be cleaning your messes. The same idiot who’s been ostracizing me and still put a gun in my hand.”

He moved closer but not close enough for his step-mother’s garrote-technique to be effective. He was almost inclined to reveal his companions ‘guarding her door or the poisoned dart in his cuff link. But he decided it wouldn’t be needed…not today at least.

“The same idiot who’s blind to the abusive alcholic she raised. That is more than likely hurting (Y/n) right now.”

“What’re you–”

“That’s what your first-husband was like, right? An alchoholic who ran the mafia with an iron fist.”

“Enough!...Fine. You can take them with you after your honeymoon.”

“Before.”

“Why would you–”

“Be-fore.”

“....It will be…done.”

When she finished, Ellwick had full intentions to find you. No doubt cooking up a barrage of insults to cutely angrily whisper behind you’re door. But before he could make it to your room, he heard the sound of glass shattering and muffled yelling.

He could only see red. Red as the cut that was bleeding on your skin.

Seems like his role as the family’s ‘cleanup crew’ would come in handy.

#yandere genderbend cinderella #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere genderbend #yandere genderbent #yandere genderbend disney #yandere genderbent disney #yandere genderbent cinderella #yandere mafia au

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slutforitoshi · 1 year

Text

nagi seishiro - illuminate *:･ﾟ✧

ft. fratboy!nagi x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: intoxication/fucking under the influence (alcohol), nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, choking, cumming on body

synopsis: what happens when you lose your roommate at the biggest frat party of the semester?

wc: 2.06k

A/N: inspired entirely by a whiteout party i went to last night

you stopped trying to look for your new roommate about half an hour ago, giving up the impossible search in a sea of sweaty bodies dimly lit by uv lights.

“pleaseee” she had said with doe eyes, begging you to go with her to the first frat party of the semester. you barely knew anyone within greek life and the last time you were at a frat party some random girl threw up all over your new dunks. this was before you knew frat shoes were a thing, and the memory makes you shudder.

“i heard ksig has really cute guysss” she continued, still trying to convince you to come.

you rolled your eyes, “sorry i’m not interested in lumberjack built gym rats whose greatest contribution to society is shotgunning beer cans in seconds.”

“what else could you possibly be doing this saturday night? and don’t tell me it’s homework because it’s just syllabus week” she exasperates, not giving up,

“well-” you started, but then realized she had a point.

“come on it’s the biggest party of the semester”

and that’s how you ended up at kappa sigma’s fall rush social: whiteout theme. looking at the state of the frat house, you wondered who came up with that terrible idea. the uv lights only highlighted the filth on every visible surface area. upon entry you were already regretting your decision.

that regret only grew when you realized your new roommate was a runner. you lost her barely half an hour in, unable to find her in any public space. you chose to avoid looking in the private rooms though because well you know what happens in there during parties.

low battery: 20%. great now your phone was running low too. there had to be at least another two hours before the party ended, and something told you your roommate wouldn’t be calling you back anytime soon.

“HE JUST DOESN’T MISS!!” a deep voice booms followed by an eruption of incoherent yelling. a crowd was growing near the beer pong table, and you decided to join them. it had to be better than sitting alone doing nothing on a couch now that your phone was low.

you push your way towards the front to see what the noise was about, and you see a duo stood at one end along with a singular guy at the other. the one-man team was clearly dominating as visible by the cup ratio: 1 to 8. he is up, having to land a pingpong ball into the remaining cup twice.

shoot, in. the first shot is successful, and you could hear people murmur in anticipation.

shoot…in. the crowd erupts in an instance, and the guy is hoisted up onto another’s shoulders. there, you finally get a good look at him and your stomach flips. he’s fucking hot.

all your previous qualms about the theme were long forgotten as you see how his white hair glows under the dark lights, illuminating his figure. he’s tall too, nearly touching the high ceiling from the shoulder ride.

“LET’S FUCKING GO THAT’S OUR SEI!” the guy carrying him shouts, earning whoops and hollers from who you assume are the ksig brothers.

“so his name is sei” you murmur, liking the way it sounds on your tongue.

“can i go play games upstairs now?” sei asks, and his brothers boo in response. he seems entirely different from the other frat boys, almost bored at his win, like it was only obvious that he would sweep the other team. your attraction continues to grow.

“come on sei, you never come to these things. at least stay for a little longer.”

“what a hassle” you hear him say softly as he’s lowered back down to the ground. his brothers go to the next room for more drinks you assume, but sei stays put near the table. and suddenly you’re met with an opportunity.

you swish around the remaining jungle juice in your solo cup for a bit before raising it to your lips and downing it in one breath. you needed a shot of courage (or multiple in this case because why the fuck did that taste like 80% alcohol).

“you were really good back there” you lean on the pong table, facing your body towards sei who was currently occupied with his phone. he looks up from his device, and you don’t miss the glance he gives towards your body.

suddenly you’re thankful that the only clean white fit you had was coincidentally your sluttiest one. the crossed fabric that wrapped around your neck defined your cleavage, and the short tennis skirt threatened to show your ass at the slightest bending motion.

“oh thanks…do i know you?”

ouch.

“probably not, this is my first ksig function” you try to ignore the heat that flashes across your face, “not really a frat party person.”

“me neither. the bros made me come today since there were zetas talking shit about our pong game” he responded, and you’re thankful to find common ground.

“well clearly they weren’t much of a match. i’m surprised you’re a brother if you don’t go out often”

“hm i actually only joined on a bet. my friend said he’d buy me a ps5 game if i got a bid” he shrugged. “i’ve been trying to drop for over a year now, but they need me for the tournaments”

“tournaments?” you ask, clearly not the most knowledgeable about frat culture.

“yeah for pong and beer die. they think ksig has a shot at the finales for the first time in years or something”

they probably do judging by sei’s performance just a few minutes prior. you reach for a ping pong ball, purposefully grazing his arm lightly to reach it.

“can you show me how to throw? i suck” you pout slightly. technically it wasn’t a lie, you couldn’t aim for shit, especially not while buzzed.

“it’s easy, it’s all in the elbows” he takes a ball himself and shoots, naturally landing it of course. you try to mimic him after, only to see the ball bounce off the cup’s rim.

“you’re bending your wrist too much” he comments, handing you another ball. you try again, and it ricochets off one cup, barely missing the one next to it.

“you’re overextending your arm now” he says, already with another ball in hand.

“let me show you”, you expect him to demonstrate again but instead he places it in your hand and takes position behind you. he raises your arm with his own, showing you exactly how the movement should go. you’re focused on anything but the technique though, instead thinking about how warm his fingers are against your wrist.

“now you try” he says, by your ear. holy shit he’s right there. he doesn’t move from the position though, and the nerves caused by his proximity makes you miss terribly.

“how did you get even worse,” he’s clearly shocked, doubting his own teaching ability for a second, “you should just give up” he concludes.

“hey it’s just because you were so close” you defend yourself, eyes widening once you realize what it suggested.

“do i make you nervous?” he smirks, and you’ve never felt smaller (maybe that’s also because he’s literally towering over you).

“so what if you do?” you retort, digging yourself a deeper hole.

“want to go to my room?”

~~~

the door is barely shut before your lips are on each other, tasting remnants of alcohol. he leads you to his gaming chair, seating you on top of his lap. immediately you can feel a bulge form under you.

sei’s kisses aren’t aggressive, but needy. his hands are on your waist, pulling you in further towards his chest. then back out, creating just the right friction beneath your skirt. you build a rhythm, grinding on his thighs, which you note are quite toned.

“f-fuck sei” you moaned against him, resulting in a tightened grip on your hips.

“you’re making a mess” he observes, pleased at the damp streaks forming on his pants. while one hand remains at the side of your waist, he moves the other one up, settling on your right breast. he eagerly tugs your shirt to free it, capturing the bud with his fingertips. pinching and rolling, emitting louder moans from you.

“so fucking perfect” he murmurs before diving in, capturing the sensitive bead between his lips. the sensation pushes you further to the edge, eyes rolling back as his tongue circles it.

he picks you up easily from the chair, face still buried in your chest. he sets you down on his bed and starts to unbuckle his belt. you remove your own drenched panties and move to do the same with your skirt.

“keep this on” he smacks your hand away from the waistband, “i’ve always wanted to fuck someone with a skirt on”

he takes off his shirt with one pull, and wow abs. he smirks again, seeing your eyes fixated on his body.

“like what you see?”

“how could i not?”

if you looked closely you would be able to see his cock twitch, clearly thrilled at the validation. his lips are on you again, and he mumbles out a “you drive me fucking crazy”

fingers are prodding near your entrance, and you instinctively shut your legs from the sensitivity.

“keep them open” he pulls your knees apart, strong arms keeping them from shutting again. he circles your clit first, lubricating his digits with the surplus of slick. once satisfied, he enters with two at once, earning a particularly long moan from the stretch.

“so wet” he starts to pump, quickening his pace, “all for me”

“just like that sei just like that” you repeat, intoxicated by the feeling. the squelching noises are overwhelming, bouncing off the walls. then he curls his fingers.

“don’t do that i-” you choke out, “i’ll cum!”

he doesn’t stop though, still thrusting his perfectly curled fingers through your orgasm. wait, what kind of frat boy makes the girl cum first?

before you could ponder too much he’s wrapping an arm under you, swiftly flipping you over onto your stomach. you go onto your knees, and he’s nearly cumming at the view of your ass up against him.

glancing back you see him quickly rip open a condom with his teeth before slipping it on, as if he’s done it a billion times before. with looks like those you wouldn’t be surprised.

he positions himself behind you, aligning himself with your entrance before pushing.

“seiii” you drawl, in awe at how perfect he fits within you.

his hands are positioned at your hips, slowly thrusting his own against you as you grow accustomed to the intrusion.

“y-you can go faster” you moan, and what can he do but comply. his thrusts are sharp and quick, and you begin to hear his own breathy moans at the feeling of your velvety walls.

“your body’s so perfect…like it was made for me” he groans. his right hand moves away from your hips and rest against your throat, squeezing.

the sudden loss of oxygen makes your mind go into a haze, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure.

“flip over” he suddenly goes, before moving you himself. “need to cum while seeing you”

his hand remains on your throat as he continues to fuck you in missionary, getting closer as he hears those sinful moans and sees your face permanently plastered with an expression of ecstasy.

“want you to cum on me” you plead, “want you to make me a mess”

unable to say no, he pulls out and rips off the condom with alarming speed. within a few pumps of his hand he’s granting your wish, decorating your upper body with thick spurts of white.

you’re sure it would be a sight if you were to step back into the party under the uv lights.

~~~

sorry i totally forgot to tell you i left with a guy >.<

you stare blankly at the text from your roommate displayed on your screen. yeah you were never going out with this girl again.

“just stay here with me” sei says, also seeing the text from over your shoulder. “i’ll take you home tomorrow”

well you’d have to thank her for dragging you out this one time at least. you shut off your phone and succumb to sleep in the arms of your not-so-typical frat boy.

#bc tell me frat boy nagi would NOT hit so hard #@yunxbin im crying over fratboy nagi too #nagi seishiro #nagi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi smut #blue lock #bllk #blue lock smut #bllk smut

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