#rip that p*ssy

[kagejima]

you guys dont understand i have an entire fucking wip revolving around big ol oliver and he was only drawn fUCKIN TWICE!! at least meian is seen multiple times in the game fbejdenndnd

I PLOTTED OUT AN ENTIRE LONG ASS FIC AROUND A MAN WITH TWO PANELS DJDNDNMDD

wendy shut up dont say anything shhhhhhh

[satorena]

❛ I'LL HYPNOTIZE YOU WITH THIS P*SSY ! ❜

ᥫ᭡ featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento, k. choso

content warning. explicit content (mdni). pūssydrunk!men. oral (f). face sitting. overstimulation. virgin!choso. cowgirl/lotus. backshots. breath play. brēēding kink. unprotected sex. daddy kink. dom/sub undertones. mirror sex. virgin!reader with suguru (do not lose your virginity like this). corruption kink. afab!reader + feminine descriptions.

ᥫ᭡ rena's note. reupload cuz it got flagged weeks ago and i never noticed :P

gojo ☆ satoru

“could be here for hours—shit baby, y’taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

his praises fall deaf to your ears as your mind blanks, brain melting to mush at the overwhelming sensation of his tongue lapping at your folds. your hands claw at his snowy white tresses, fingers carding through his hair and tugging onto his scalp.

when satoru ate pussy, he put his entire being in it— and it only got worse on the rare occasions you’d do him the favour of sitting on his face. he’d never half ass such an opportunity, long fingers gripping onto your ass tightly and spreading the cheeks apart to flick his tongue between the private spaces.

“talk to me princess, tell me how good it feels.” he pops your clit out of his mouth, warm breath fanning over the bundle of nerves. you jolt from the strange yet pleasurable feeling, muscles tensing and contracting over his face, resulting in your slick to drip down onto his chin, staining his face even more in your arousal. “c’mon, flatter me, pretty baby.”

“f-fuck, toru, don’t stop!” you moan wantonly, fat tears building at your lash line. your thighs press at the side of his head when he hums against your clit, diving deeper into your weeping cunt. he drags an index finger from the crevice of your ass all the way up front to your swollen clit, collecting slick along the way. “‘s great— so fuckin’ good, ngh, please—keep going!”

your stomach tightens when you feel his digit slip into your clenching pussy, plunging knuckle deep.  you can’t help the moan that rips at your throat, toes curling as he immediately aims for the spongy spot that has you seeing stars.

you look down at him and you’ve got the prettiest look on your face— eyes misty with tears, your flushed cheeks stained with fallen tears you couldn’t contain, pouty lips glossy and trembling. draping over your frame is his button up top, unbuttoned all the way down, perky buds from your breast rising up in arousal.

gojo feels his balls tighten at your lewdness alone. he’s so hard it hurts, thighs rubbing one against the other for relief. if you keep digging your nails into his scalp in that painful way you do, rocking your hips into his face and swallowing him whole inside your cunt to use him in order to chase your own pleasure, he’s bound to cum untouched.

only you could pull something like this out of him.

his eyes darken in the way it does whenever he’s particularly on a high about something passionate, and he knows from that pleading look in your blown out pupils that he’s got to make you blackout. not entirely for your own pleasure, but for his own too. there was no better feeling in this world than being sprayed by your essence all in his face, folds gaping and clenching down on his fingers as your clit weeped and released your juices pathetically.

you’re not even sure when it happens but one minute you’re facing the headboard of your bed and the next your head dangles off the edge of the bed, back laid on the mattress with your legs hanging off his broad shoulders.

gojo gives you no time to process the switch in positions as he lays flat on his stomach and latches his kiss bitten lips onto your cunt. he swipes his tongue and eats you out like a mad man— spreading your folds with his hands and fucking into your tight hole with his tongue. your back arches and your hands fly to grip at his head, torn between pushing head head deeper or further away. it’s all too much at once, both pleasurable and overwhelming, your thighs trembling from the sting.

“heh, look at this creamy pussy go,” you hear him whistle in between your thighs, though it comes out muffled. he’s gripping so tightly onto your thighs that you’re sure it’s going to leave bruises, hair cascading his face despite his dark orbs peaking through the bangs. “shit, ‘m gonna keep you with me forever, never letting this pussy go.”

when he flicks his tongue at your swollen clit, your hips rise off from the mattress and you push his head away, the numbing sensation overtaking your limbs and gut tightening in a familiar way. you hear him tut disapprovingly, forcing your hips down and you’re left powerless but to lay there and let this blinding orgasm wash over you.

“‘s too much— oh god, toru, fuck— ‘m cumming, don’t—baby, don’t stop!” you babble, saliva dribbling past your lips. you begin to feel lightheaded from the blood rushing to your brain, and the airy feeling leaves you feeling like you’re floating, one hand leaving his matted hair to grip at your neglected tits, firmly groping the mound.

all it takes is an additional slip of his fingers into your gushing cunt to release its dam, his end goal accomplished as your folds greedily suck him in. your pussy wails and cries onto his face, squirting all over him from his forehead to nose and chin. through it all, your body rakes and shudders, trembles taking over as you cry out his name.

he holds your free hand through it all, pupils dilated as he himself trembles in amusement, thumb brushing the soft skin of your knuckles.

“give it all t’me princess, be the good fuckin’ girl you are and soak me in your essence— needa taste ya, sweetest fuckin’ thing ever, i swear.”

fushiguro ☆ toji

“oh yeahhh, that’s it mama—keep throwin’ it back, shit, gonna breed this greedy pussy full’a cum.”

you respond with an overly eager moan, hips pushing back to slam your ass down to his pelvis. you’re beyond your element—mind both dazed and consumed with alcohol and lust, glossy lips parted as you fog the mirror before you with your warm breath.

you plant the surface of your palms at the mirror, skin moist as you hold onto the glass for stability. standing on the tip of your toes, your calves are put into overtime as you sink down on toji’s dick, your pussy well spent and spread to accommodate to his inhumanely girth. he stretches your folds painfully, but the feeling is one you welcome dearly as his tip kisses areas inside of you that has you thanking him endlessly and going as far to wanting him to fuck you full of his cum.

bent over in a ninety degree, toji grips onto your hair in one tight hold, pulling your head back up. he forces you to stare at the mess he makes out of you, and you watch as your tears leak black from mascara, staining your cheeks dark and saliva dribbles from your lips to your chin. your skin is matted from sweat and other liquids, eyes dazed and unfocused as his balls repeatedly slap at your puffy clit.

“fuckin’ whore— awe, just look at ya,” toji mocks, the hand holding your hips letting go of the flesh and flattens his palm instead to slap at your ass. you moan at the sting, your skin tingling in pain as the skin reddens from the harsh impact.

“think i ain’t notice, doll?” your eyes roll up to watch him, his smirk as prominent as ever through the reflection of the mirror. his own locks are matted to his forehead, and he bares his fangs at you in a smile that sends shivers down your spine. “y’think i don’t feel yer cunt squeezin’ me in? you fuckin’ love it when ‘m mean with you, ‘fess it up mama.”

you chew on your bottom lip, slightly embarrassed by the truth being revealed. you could call him the worst man on the planet, mean and relentless, but at least he knew how to fuck you inside out. you shake your head in denial, but when the hand in your hair snakes to your throat, fingers pressing down on the column of your neck tightly—you moan at the lack of oxygen coursing in your body.

“answer me when i ask you somethin’, basic fuckin’ manners sweetheart.” toji kisses his teeth, pulling your body up by the neck. your sweaty back meets his sweaty chest, and you feel him panting against your temple just as you can see him nuzzle his nose against your hair.

he’s grinding into your cunt in motions that has his cock rubbing at your sensitive spots, his pelvis pressed right up against your ass. you reach your hand behind to grip onto his thigh, squeezing the firm muscle and the other wraps itself around toji’s hold on your neck, as you’re overtaken by the familiar beating of your cunt clenching down on his throbbing dick.

“fuckkk, love it daddy! love it when y’re mean t’me—love it when you fuck me s’good—ngh!” you cry out, tears soaking your cheeks and breast jiggling in rotations built by a rhythm made from the man pounding into you.

“there’s my slutty girl,” you feel his hand pat at your cheek, the sting making you loll your tongue out of the cave of your mouth. he plunges his teeth into the supple flesh of your neck, sucking eagerly as he marks down his territory.

you drive him mad— something about the way you comply to his every desire no matter how you feel about it, just to please him, had his cock twitching in ways it’d never had. your sweet and innocent demeanour completely consumed and taken over by his sinister and malicious ways, moulding your pussy into the shape of his cock so it would only obey to him and him alone.

his green eyes zero into your facial expressions and he can both tell and feel that you’re close, your cunt clamping down on his dick whenever he grinds up against that sweet spot that has your legs quaking and barely able to hold yourself up. naturally he wants to bring you that finish— selfishly, that way you’re stuck on him and obsessed with his dick alone.

he’ll remind you endlessly nobody else could ever make you feel this good, just as nobody else could ever have him deliriously possessive the way you do.

“‘m gonna fuck this slutty pussy so good, nobody will ever come close to fuckin’ you dumb— shit, might fuck around and fill my pretty pussy full of my cum.”

geto ☆ suguru

“shit baby—‘m gonna need you to relax f’me—fuck, loosen up—we gotta make it fit, right?”

you’re barely half way sunken down on his dick, the stretch painful enough as your arms are thrown around his broad shoulders for stability. it hurts in a way that makes you either want to get it over with and fully slam yourself down on the rest of the inches or completely take off, but the gentle thudding of geto’s finger tips at the base of your back has you rethink your decisions.

geto’s aware that the size of his dick isn’t the most accommodating for beginners, much less virgins. but you’d been so eager to take care of him and willing to give yourself to him, to want him to deflower you, take your innocence and purity and keep it in his possession— there was no way he would refuse you of anything.

“ngh, sugu— fuck, it hurts!” you squeal, thighs aching from the awkward angle. he’s holding your body entirely from your ass alone, gently playing with the soft flesh in attempts to distract you from the excruciating pain.

he places kisses at your cheek, nuzzling into your smooth skin with a sympathetic sigh, “mhm, i know baby, i know.” his whispers fall short into your ears, noticing the goosebumps on your skin trailing. “just a few more inches, kay? you’re so close—y’got this mama.”

you’re so adorable, he thinks, as simple words are enough for you to nod, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. you sit up straight, nose grazing over his, and he leans forward to kiss your lips. you’re so distracted by the sweetness of his lips onto yours, tongue slipping in between your swollen lips that you fail to notice you’ve officially bottomed out.

geto eases your body down onto the rest of his cock, and groans when you clamp tightly onto his dick. you’re so tight he feels like he’s being suffocated, and even with all the prepping and squirting from prior, you still hadn’t been entirely ready to take him in.

though, the hard part is over, as you cry out into his mouth— fresh tears now staining your pretty cheeks and rolling onto geto’s face as well. he almost feels bad, but there were many layers to him— and he was extremely turned on by yours tears. knowing you were in a state of painful pleasure that brought you to tears, lashes thick and wet as you wailed and seeker comfort from him despite him being the reason you’re crying—

it has his balls ache terribly.

“there we go princess, just like that.” geto encourages you, one arm wrapped behind your back and the other holding onto your hips firmly. the back of your heels dig at his lower back, your chest pressing against his. “you’re taking me so well, shit, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

he takes note of the thin veil of dark red that coats the perimeter of his dick, realizing he’s finally popped your cherry— and he isn’t sure he can put into words the weird feeling that has him smirk ferociously in a primitive way. shamefully, he’s filled with pride that he’d been your very first time and disgustingly enough, he slips his hand between both your bodies, collects the evidence of your purity now taken away, before rubbing the liquid onto your neglected clit.

“forgive me, princess.” he mumbles into your ear, a gentle kiss pressed to the shell of your ear in major contrast to the sudden pain throbbing in your core at the newfound position.

you then understand by his relentless thrusts, your legs now draped over his shoulders as his hips meet the back of your thighs in rhythmic slaps, that he had been asking for your forgiveness because he wouldn’t be able to hold back any further.

“promise it’ll stop hurting soon—fuck, you wanna hold out for me, baby?” he never stops his thrusts, interlocking both your fingers together before pressing them above your head. his eyes stare deep into your soul, and behind those purple orbs you see your reflection intertwined with a mischievous glint. and when you nod your head, he tilts his own, “use your words, love.”

“y-yes suguru—want you to fuck me! i’ll hold out for as long as you n-need me to! i promise!” you roll your hips up to match the pace he has set. he rises his body up and slams down into your cunt, and you greedily accept him, muscles relaxing into the pain that slowly dissipates into pleasure.

you’d never felt anything like it before, but the way geto repeatedly fucked into you, his dick dragging against your walls and coming out slicker than the last time he plunged inside made the room stink of sex and echo with sinful squelches. his cock rubs at your virgin walls, spreading you open as you helplessly lay and take everything he has to offer you.

your toes curl at the sides of his head and your back arches— you’re effortlessly gorgeous when you’re milking his dick dry for what he’s worth, greedy pussy sucking him in so well, you could’ve easily fooled him into thinking you’d been experienced in this domain.

when he hangs his head low to watch how his dick enter and disappear inside the void of your tight cunt, he notices the bulge in your tummy. he can’t help the grumble that leaves his chest, ultimately obsessed by the pudge that forms at your pussy simply because you allowed him the honour to properly make love to you.

“whew, ‘s that me in there baby? shit— y’re driving me insane, ‘m gonna make you cum real hard, you’ll be cryin’ and beggin’ for more— oh yeah, you like that?”

nanami ☆ kento

“need you to hold still for me, sweetheart—shit, let me finish you up nice and good like you deserve, hm?”

nights like these, there were no logical reasoning as to whatever urge to passionately make love to you, to devour you whole and to make you crumble beneath him. anything could fuel the sudden want to strip you naked, body to soul, to sink his cock deep inside the cave of your warmth and have you come undone for him alone.

nanami loved it whenever you presented yourself so submissively to him, so obeying and willing to comply to his word. you were his wife, and he was truly and utterly obsessed with your entire being. to him, there was no prettier sight than your pussy dribbling slick from its puffy folds, clenching around air as it desperately calls out his name.

you laid on your knees with your cheek pressed into the mattress of your shared bed, hands bind and tied behind the back of your thighs by his infamous tie. you were restrained, most sacred parts of your body open for his accessibility alone. your entire body shivered, coming down from the high that nanami’s tongue brought to you, lapping at your folds and puckered hole, fingers pumping with precision into your cunt.

“kento, ngh, i need you, can’t wait any longer— please!” you squirm as much as your restricted form allows you to, wiggling your ass side to side as if to sway him to your desires.

you had to know there wasn’t anything you could ask him that he wouldn’t give you. begging was so below you, as his partner— there was nothing you needed to beg him for. he supposes he’s at fault for making you wait as long as he did, and he’s got no choice but to correct his mistake, to make you forgive his bad actions.

“stay still love, ‘m gonna fuck you real good now— don’t you worry, pretty girl.” he presses his kisses from the bottom of your back, the mounds of your ass, and makes his way up your spine, trailing his kisses to the column of your neck.

he revels in the way you shiver uncontrollably, your frame fragile and petite in comparaison to his larger one. you smell a scent too divine—an aura so sweet, so honeyed and so unmistakably you.

he collects your slick with two fingers, dragging the pad of his fingers at your weeping cunt, before coating his own raging hard on in your essence. he’d been so needy for you, mind clouded in trances of your body, that you hadn’t even needed to focus any attention on his dick for it to get to this point of arousal. bringing you to a state of blinding pleasure was enough of a stimulus to get him ready to go.

grabbing the base of his dick, he lines himself up at your entrance, dragging his mushroom tip up and down your folds. you whine and beg him to to push up inside, to fill you up to the brim, so full that all you can think about is the pattern of veins on the underside of his cock brushing at your golden spot.

when nanami finally does bottom out, you both release moans that sync in a melodious tune, the harmony of both your bodies and soul merging into one clouding his mind with primitive lust. he starts off slow, pushing in and out of your cunt, hissing at your tightness despite having fingered you open not too long ago.

“‘m losing my mind baby,” nanami breathes out, hands gripped tight at your hips. he quickens his pace, balls slapping at your clit in patterns as your body jerks forward. “your pussy feels heavenly—shit, so warm and tight and all mine.”

“yes sir, it’s all yours— always have been, always will be k-kento!” you whine, the surface below you dampened from your tears and drool. you catch his gaze from your angle, your lashes fluttering prettily as you wordless encourage him further.

he reads you like a book, he reads your soul and knows you better than he knows anybody. and so, he pistons his cock in your eager entrance, thrusts long and deep as your pussy grips onto his shaft greedily. you moan, toes curling as your fingers reach for him despite not being able to due to the cloth restraining you. your back arches and the shift in angles has his tip immediately locating your sweet spot.

“oh f-fuck!” you wail, body shuddering as you’re overwhelmed by an intense pleasure. you feel nanami’s hands trail over your skin, down your back, caressing your ass, the back of your thighs. “hah, right there sir— please don’t stop, hngh, ‘m gonna cum!”

and of course nanami knows this, already a step ahead of you as he leans forward, arms holding him up at the side of your shoulders. he puts a hand between your thighs and through the loop of his tie to focus his attention on your neglect clit, drawing figure eight patterns on the bundle of nerves.

you keep sucking him in, and he must be growing old the way it’s becoming so much easier to draw him to the finish line. nanami knows better— it’s the entirety of you, from the way you sound when you whine and beg him for relief, to the way your body reacts so fluidly with his, the way your eyes linger a moment longer on his own. he’s head over heels in love with your entire being, and it’s no shocker that when you cry out his name and soak both of your thighs in your sweet honey, that he himself feels his balls empty into your womb.

“shittt—there we go my love, take all of my cum like the perfect wife you are, mmh, just like that—my pretty little thing.”

kamo ☆ choso

“oh f-fuck, ‘m so sorry princess, it just— shit, it feels so fuckin’ good—need some more!”

load after load, your boyfriend shoots his cum inside your cunt without warning, hips stuttering and rutting into your sucking void. it doesn’t bother you as much as he thinks it does, though you are concerned that he’s going to fuck himself into a blackout with how eager he is to bring you to the finish line.

porn had nothing on real sex, choso concluded when he finally sunk his full length into your cunt and immediately came. there’d been no movement or warning, but as soon as his balls met the lips of your pussy, you moaned at the hot rush of cum spurting inside of you.

he’d been so winded, his fingernails left moon crescents into your flesh as he emptied out his first load of semen into your womb. he shivered and whined, your name rolling off his tongue in a desperate plea as his premature ejaculation washed over his body in waves.

by the time he’d come down from his orgasm, you’d caressed his cheek and pushed his hair away from his face, kissed him and told him this sort of thing happened often. he was still a bit embarrassed by the disaster but the gentle look of honesty in your eyes and your pretty smile had reassured him rather quickly— and also got him hard again.

“take your time baby, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” you nod your head while giggling, sprawling your body down to your mattress. choso sits on the back of his feet and pulls his dick out, hissing as your pussy grips onto him despite his protest to slip out. eventually he pulls out and he’s enamoured by the way his seed spills out of your pretty hole, liquid filthily staining the sheets beneath you both.

you lick the tip of your index and middle finger, coating the digits in your saliva before slipping them in the space between both your bodies. you keep firm eye contact with your boyfriend as he watches you with hearts in his eyes, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak at the buds of your hardened nipples.

you collect his creamy cum from your cunt, bringing it back up to your plump lips and licking your fingers clean. you moan at the taste of him, so overwhelming and strong but undoubtedly him.

“cho, baby, you taste fuckin’ so good,” you plop your fingers out of your mouth, and smile in faux innocence. he’s quiet and gulping in anticipation, dick twitching at the entrance of your folds. he’s already dribbling more pre come, tip of his shady sticky and ready to dive into your gaping pussy, aiming to please you more and more, until you yourself feel as good as you were able to make him feel just now.

and so, pushing himself on his knees, he begins his rutting yet again, grabbing the base of his cock and lining himself at your puffy lips. he grabs your hips firmly and lifts you off the bed as he bottoms out, your ass falling onto his lap and fucks into you desperately. his thrusts come out sharp and harsh, penetrating so deep inside your pussy and rubbing at areas that had your vision go unfocused.

“oh fuck, b-baby, shit— oh my fuckin’— you feel so good, y’re killing me here!” choso throws his head back, sweat dripping down from his matted hair to his bare chest. his stomach contracts and he pants heavily, his hold on your hips tight. he’s fucking into you as if you were a fleshlight— a mere toy he’s discovered that he isn’t willing to stop playing with.

it doesn’t bother you the second time he cums inside your pussy and apologizes, it doesn’t the second and it doesn’t during the third time either. at every orgasm he’s taken over by, you feel yourself drawing towards the end of the finish line, that high so near that when it’s taken away from you suddenly, it’s annoyingly great.

he’s unintentionally edging you, and despite your whines and pleas, fingers messily rubbing at your clit in attempts to draw some kind of blinding conclusion, he cums yet again, filling you to the brim.

“fuckkkk, hah, ‘m so sorry baby— promise i’ll get it right this time, ngh, gimme another c-chance!”

[neowinestainedress]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “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 ��𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 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♡ ” 

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[harbinger-of-enmity]

Delicate . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Trans Sunday x GN Reader 🪽

✒︎ Notes; Transmale Sunday (usage of words p-ssy, c-nt and c-it), gender neutral reader, dom reader, sub Sunday, face sitting, hint of overstimulation, short work… Let me know if I missed anything!

✒︎ Vincent’s Ramblings; Repost because Tumblrs being weird and hid this for a bit on my other accoubt, lawl. sorry if the endings poor, i never know how to end my works 🫶😭

Sunday felt you press your hands into his hips, pulling him closer to your face, a shrill cry escaping him when your thumb dragged over his swollen clit.

Here you had Sunday, the powerful head of the Oak Family, sitting on your face, crying as you bullied his pussy with your mouth. You didn’t quite know how you ended up with Sunday riding your face, but you did know the sweet sounds the man released were like a drug.

Your hands squeezed the supple flesh of Sunday’s thighs, his pale skin taking on a red hue as you did. Sunday moaned, hands pawing at anything he could reach, “[Name]- ‘S too much! Ahh ha—“ Sunday uttered these words but pressed himself further against your face, gasping as your tongue sunk deeper into him.

His thighs squeezed your face, Sunday’s knuckles turning white from how tightly he balled his fists. Sunday’s wings flapped as you pulled your tongue in and out of his body, frame trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“I’m gonna cum! I— Oh, Aeons!” Sunday’s hands curled around his headboard, back arching. You felt his cunt squeeze around your tongue, and you purposely pressed it against his walls, ripping a cry from him.

You felt the bitter, almost sour, taste of Sunday’s fluids on your tongue but couldn’t help the need for more, more of Sunday on your tongue. Pulling your tongue along his most sensitive places, hearing a sweet mewl escape his lips.

Sunday felt that familiar pain bubbling up in his belly, lips parting in a gasp at the feeling, “Ffhh— [Name],” He croaked out, lifting his hips off your face. Your gaze met Sunday’s, the hazy look in his eyes barely processing your face, “Thank you..” Sunday murmured weakly, sitting himself atop your chest.,

The little wings on the sides of his face puffed a bit when you grunted at the feeling of his weight landing atop your body. He squeaked out a quick apology, still within his pleasured haze, too dumb to process the world around him completely.

You reached up to cup Sunday’s face, chuckling as he leaned into your touch, “You okay, birdie?” You asked softly, Sunday nodding against your hand in response. He shifted off your torso, laying beside you, tucking his face into your neck. You could only laugh in response, running your hand through his soft hair.

It wasn’t long until you heard his snoring in your ear, the soft rasp filling the quiet room. You continued to pet Sunday’s head until you yourself fell asleep, holding the Halovian close to your chest.

[rafedaddy01]

You re husband is in debt to rafe

Its so much money and you could never pay that

So rafe gives you a simple solution for that little Problem :

He will forget all about your husbands debt if you turn into his little personal sl t

So when he calls you rush over to fullfill all of his needs

Of course you do not tell your husband about this arrangement

You tell him you are working late not that rafe is c mming as often as he can inside your p ssy , breeding you

Mocking you" what would your husband say if you end up pregnant with my baby?"

"Is he as big as me?"

Your Rafes personal sex toy

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I like seeing you like this” he pets your head, fingers coming underneath your chin to force your eyes to his. “Aww, baby. Don’t waste your tears for me, they mean nothing”

And that’s how it began. With you coming to rafe to plead for your husband’s freedom. He made you suck his cock all night, swallowing every last drop he had to offer, “don’t think this was a one time thing. Your husband has a lot of debt to pay off.”

And that’s how you found yourself at Rafes house every night. Succumbing to his every need.

He needed you on your knees? Done.

He needed you on your back? Done.

He needed you on your hands and knees? Done.

You did everything and anything rafe Cameron told you.

And at first it was disgusting. But after a while you found yourself excited for your little rendezvous, if that’s what you could call it.

Rafe was corrupting you, grooming you, teaching you new things about your body and what you like, and you were falling for every damn lie he told you

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“What would your husband say?” He thrust into you in one move. “Knowing his wife was here” his hips pulled back, “selling her body for his freedom” he pushed back in.

The tears began, you couldn’t control them.

“Don’t start that shit with me” his hands wrapped around your throat, making your eyes meet his dark ones. “We both know you like this, enjoy it even” he squeezed a little tighter, making you gasp “or else you wouldn’t be wet every time I ripped those panties off you” he smirked as he watched your face contort in pleasure.

“Maybe I should just kill your husband” your eyes snapped opened at this “steal you all to myself, then you’d really be mine” your pussy unintentionally clamped at his words. He looked down at you with a grin “should I take that as a yes?” You tried to shake your head no, but you couldn’t. He was still holding your neck with a vise like grip and you were afraid that if you moved he’d snap it. He’s strong enough to do it, and the look in his eyes and the words he speaks, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Or maybe..” rafe continued speaking like he was having a normal conversation, like he wasn’t rearranging your guts with his thick cock. “Maybe I should make him watch. Yeah, make him watch as you cum all over my cock”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you” he removed his hand from your throat to trail a finger down your exposed chest, reaching out for your nipples and flicking each one “yeah, that’s what we’ll do, we’ll make him watch”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

[kmultismut]

"Gonna blow, honey?"

Genre: smut Member: S.Coups x reader

Seungcheol had you spread out on the table in front of him. You were at the edge of the seat by the way he has looking at you with a hungry look on his face. He touched you softly trailing his fingers up and down your thighs. He hooked his finger under your panties and finally pushed them aside. He licked a long stripe on your p*ssy. He let out a moan tasting you on his tongue. You let your jaw fall down. "Oh, baby." He looked up at you with a devilish smirk and you knew what was coming. You laughed and screamed as he ripped your panties and dived into your heat. You grabbed his hair and let your moans flow out of your throat. "Mmm, Seungcheol!", you moaned as he pushed two of his fingers into you without any warning. He lifted his head up, "You called?" You looked into his eyes and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He continued pushing his fingers in and out of you. You reached your hand down and stroked him over his jeans. "Such a dirty baby I have!" He smirked and pulled his fingers out of you rubbing your clit with his wet fingers. You got down from the table and he sat down onto the chair behind him. You climbed on top of him and he pushed his jeans down revealing his member. "Gosh I needed you so bad, Seungcheol." You kissed him and slowly sank down his member. You bounced up and down at the pace you enjoyed. You placed kisses up and down his neck as he let you take control. You placed his hand on your clit and he instantly started rubbing circles. "Gonna blow, honey?" You teased him. "Not before you do." He said and put you back on the table. He gave you a quick kiss and started thrusting deep and fast into you. You continued rubbing your clit and let your body reach your high. He bit down on your neck as he came as well. He connected your foreheads as you both started to slow down your breath. 

[puuuders]

GO PEG THAT PRIEST MAKE HIM NICE N EASY FOR COPIA 🗣️‼️

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while he gasps for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, p*ssy popping (I really don't like that word sorry), nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever I could cause a nuclear bomb inside him and he'd still ride.

@frjimdefroque

[hernakedmuse]

Steddie's Little Bimbo Tomboy!Reader Headcanons Part I

How can a tomboy be a bimbo you ask? BIKER SHORTS, TIGHT LITTLE CYCLE SHORTS THAT HUG HER PLUSH THIGHS SQUISHY ASS AND FAT P*SSY!!!!

When it's cold she has her too tight stirrup leggings that make you wonder if she's wearing a thong or panties.

Her jeans are tighter than tight

But if it's a little warm her biker and little cycle shorts come out!

She wears oversized shirts sometimes the boys that make it look like she's not wearing any pants

Crop tops that show midriff tantalizingly

No makeup but her a thousand different flavored chapstick theboys just love to try 😉

PLAY WRESTLING PLAY WRESTLING PLAY WRESTLING!

DO you have any idea how hard it is for them to resist her when she's straddling their bulge in her tight little shorts or leggings? Or how when they pin her down her ass is up and their bulge happens to dig in to that plump flesh?

Being one of the boys and friends with them for sooooo long, she simply thinks it's normal and fine to undress in front of them and they weren't ones to turn a gift horse away.

Wears tiny ass gym shorts that get eaten by her ass and her Indiana Ice hockey jersey on top which just looks like a too short dress and shows off her thighs and ass that are even more shapely due to her skateboarding, riding her bike everywhere, and occasional in line skating.

Jeans have rips on her ass cheeks on her thighs.

Her big tee shirts are so worn, she's not int appearances so when her tees get holes, skhe keeps them. Holes and tears that expose sin and cleavage...

When it's hot out she wears sports bras as tops and nothing else, pairs them with those biker shorts the boys froth over so much or gym shorts, cute baggy socks and her beloved Nikes or chuck taylors, and a backwards baseball cap that makes Steve melt.

Doesn't mind getting dirty or being outside, meaning doesn't mind being on her kneesbin the dirty as the boys possibly spit roast her...on a beautiful sunny day.

She loves suggesting camping trips...just the three of them in a tent...😉

She's always so playful like puppy, rolling around and pouncing.

Loves DnD so much, and even though it isn't Steve's thing, she manages to convince him to play and dress up, having him and Eddie take advantage of the elf warrior princess in bed.

[portfolio-of-dreams]

more; more of you | izana kurokawa x afab! reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni! yandere themes, angst-ish, possessive izana, hopeless romantic reader, smut, fingering, oral, orgasm denial, dacraphyllia, reader gets called dove & baby, creampie, unprotected sex (be safe y’all), slight p*ssy inspection, cum eating/swallowing

w/c: 2.88k

a/n: shout-out to @suyacho for the beta read you da best 🫶

“Because I can’t be with you!” he screamed at you as he turned around, wild platinum fringe hitting against his opposite cheek before settling back in the face framing cut he wore.

It stung. Not like a bee sting at surface level but deeper- like a poison dipped needle that sunk into your skin and broke your veins; the poison of his words resonating through your body like it was keeping you alive but it was only meant to kill. You didn’t know what to say, what to do so you fell to the floor. The wine-stained carpet skinning your knees and palms of your hands in an attempt to steady yourself, tears rushing through your eyes as you looked up at him. You were pathetic- you knew it. Getting so attached to a man who could never truly love you, he didn’t know how to, and you certainly couldn’t fix him. At least you thought. You saw the blood on his hands, like crimson gloves that dripped down his wrists so elegantly. But you loved him, despite the burden of Atlas that rested on his shoulders, so delicate but at any moment could fall against the both of you letting your worlds crumble and rip at the seams.

He didn’t understand- he could never understand what you felt for him. You’d rip your very soul apart to create galaxies and constellations of the brightest stars just light his way home. You’d stand in front of him, with his shadows and darkness and tell him you were never afraid of the dark. The dark. There's a certain loneliness that comes from the depths of those shadows, the looming black-cloaked figures that dawn the corners. But you’ve been lonely before. The roots of loneliness are deep. They curve and string themselves against every fiber of your heart. The undulating rhythm creates a perfect home for them to nest and grow. Sometimes their grip is deathly, finding no fault or remorse in actions that stop your very breath before you can inhale. They find their food in the suspicion that there is no one who cares and offers love without conditions. You wore rose-colored glasses, the red flags he exhibited only more magenta in comparison to the rest of the world. You didn’t care about conditions as long as you could be with him.

“You’re wrong. It’s not that you can’t, but you won’t.” You tried to find your voice and your footing as you stood up to face him, violet eyes turning dark stared back at you in disbelief.

You studied the broken man before you. He needed you- he needed to be loved; needed resolve and clarity and stability. You were ready to prick your finger on every rose thorn he handed you and let yourself bleed against the stems for him. You would turn the world upside down for him with the amount of love you could show him.

“‘Zana,” - your legs shook as you stood and walked to the space in front of him, placing your hands ever so softly against his warm cheeks - “I’ll love you through it all, don’t you understand? If loving you is a double edged sword then I'll happily stand in your place and take the blade to the heart for you.”

It was a selfish thing to say, you knew it. But it didn’t feel that way when his wet lips found yours, colliding in a way that was so familiar yet so foreign. It was such an intimate affair until teeth clashed and his hands were grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer into him, the outline of his cock pulsating against your inner thigh. He was beautifully terrifying- a tanned skin god with blooming orchid eyes. They drank in your every step, every emotion when he glanced at you; cataloging your features into his mind to a place he’d never forget, he couldn’t forget. He was two sides of a coin with hands like silk and sandpaper when his fingertips glided along the small of your back. You knew what was going to happen, he was so easily read in times like this. This was the start of the delicious destruction of the two of you. You didn’t know it but he loved you too- without remorse, without conditions, obsessively. You were his siren- leading him to an impending doom of the unforgiving sea. You were so lovely, he’d be lucky to drown by your song. Izana would’ve ripped every petal off of every flower to line the ground you walked on, and you saying that you loved him too? He was certain now that you’d be his.

A light swoop of his foot to your ankles had you falling into his embrace and he picked you up so swiftly as his tongue gently tangled with your own, forcing its way between your plump lips. Your sweet smell infiltrating his senses, calling him home. You were meant to be his. The stumbling of feet and the soft whimpers that fell from you in saccharine tones were all that were heard in the silence of the night. The moon cascading against the sheets in undulating panels was the only light in the wide bedroom as he laid you down. Lips, tongues, and spilling saliva continued to mingle and mix like the perfect cocktail as his hands found your button and pulled your pants off with a fast flick of his wrists. Your doe eyes squeezed shut and your back arched instinctively into his palms when he slid them up your torso to grope your breasts. He couldn’t help himself but to moan at the feeling of the warm, plush flesh underneath him. There was something about the way your skin tingled at his touch, the ever so slight raise of the hair follicles that sent him over edge. Those violet eyes that bore into your own now swarmed and clouded with lust as he touched you. His lips finding every unknown crevice as his sharp tongue moved along your bones, desperate to taste every piece of you, every inch of you.

There was no turning back now as he slipped off your bra, trailing kisses down your arm as the shoulder strap fell. He didn’t stop when he reached your wrist, continuing down to the tips of your fingers before taking your index into his mouth all the way down to the knuckle. He watched the expressions on your face change and contort as he licked up the side of your middle finger to bite the tip. Your mouth gaped open so beautifully, and your lips quivered- he wondered what it would feel like to have that mouth choking on his cock. His mind fogged with erratic thoughts as he licked up the center of your palm to the tip of your ring finger, imagining a gold band around the base as he grunted. He pulled away for only a moment to remove his shirt- tanned, toned skin and pert pink nipples. He trembled under your soft touch, hand running up his stomach to his broad collarbones.

He crawled back onto the bed, hovering near your ankles. He, ever so subtly, glided the tips of his fingers from the jut on your ankle, following the indent from your jeans up to your inside thigh. He savored the moment; the feel of your skin, the mewls that fell from your parted lips, the way your eyes rolled and your back arched when he placed the pad of his thumb to your clit. Gentle clockwise circles, even with the small pressure he applied, had you keening his name in praises and he swears it was the most perfect pronunciation. He settled down between your thighs, watching your cunt contract with the smallest amount of touch from him. He slid his middle finger into your entrance and groaned at the growing wetness, the feel of your velvet walls- and it was just one finger. One finger and he was begging for more of you. More of your sounds, more of your arousal, just more.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Gonna be mine?” He spoke in a low sultry tone as he inserted another finger, gliding them up along the back of your damp walls slowly.

“Yes, ‘Zana. Please… Need you.” You managed to moan out as you moved your hand to curve around the plush of your breast, squeezing and circling your thumb against your erect nipple, copying the antagonizing patterns he drew on your clit.

He stopped for a moment, lilac eyes intense as he watched you touch yourself, his impatience growing. He growled, deep vocals made you lift your eyes to meet his before he dove down between your legs. He pulled his thumb away to allow his perfectly curved lips to cast over your folds as he inhaled your intoxicating sweet scent. You could feel the embarrassment grow in the pit of your stomach but that feeling was replaced with desire when his tongue swept up the middle of your pussy, the tip flicking your now puffy bud. Your hips undulating up into his mouth but he was quick to press you down into the mattress with his free hand. He snaked those fingers down, pulling back the hood of your clit for his tongue to have better access as his other fingers pumped deep and mockingly slow into you.

He was sloppy with his tongue yet precise with his fingers stimulating every bundle of nerves with his movements. Your wetness grew, nipples now hard as diamonds as you continued to play and pinch at them. You were close, and he knew it as he laughed softly- but almost maniacally. The vibrations coaxing you even closer, his fingers picking up pace and his tongue swooping, lapping at your juices as they spilled. Your hands flew to tangle themselves in his platinum hair, the heaves of your chest as the band in your lower stomach grew impossibly tight. Your hips rutting as much as you could muster, stars bursting behind your eyes. He was right there- and then nothing as he pulled away before you could cum, an insane grin plastered on his sculpted face. Your eyes grew wet, threatening to spill salty tears at your denial. He crawled to your side, soft knuckles rolling up your cheek as he cooed at you, kissing away the single tear that fell.

“Cry for me, baby. It’s okay. I’ll make you cum, promise.” He whispered sincerely, though you sensed the mocking undertones. He could, and would, humiliate you.

But you didn’t care- you wanted him, needed him like the ocean needs the moon to wane the tides. So you abided, like his word was law and you cried for him. Crying his name through tears that rolled down your cheeks, pathetic wanton attempts to gain his touch, the smirk on his mouth growing to something so devious he was almost unrecognizable. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

He leaned over attaching his mouth to your breast closest to him as he expertly stepped out of his pants as he hovered over your body. You felt the warmth radiating from him as he lowered himself on top of you, trailing his lips from your breast to your neck as sharp teeth nipping at your jugular. Eyes fluttering as he snaked a hand down to the underside of your thigh and lifted it to your shoulder as he positioned himself at your awaiting cunt. He kissed the side of your calf as his sticky pre-cum dripped onto your clit.

“You were made for me, you know that? I’ll steal your heart so you won’t be able to love anyone else other than me.” His tone demanding as he shoved himself into your hole.

You yelped at the sudden stretch, his size incomparable to any other you’ve had. You made an attempt to pull yourself away, but your resistance was docile under his strength. He craved those sounds you made, a sinful symphony that was unmatched to any other. The feeling of your warm walls taking him in, sucking him in as speech became incomprehensible. Words slurring as he pushed himself all the way in, pausing briefly to relish the clench of your cunt on him and let you adjust to his size. The slight rock of your hips up was enough to tell him your muscles relaxed enough. He started to shift, hard cock sliding in and out as he peppered kisses across your face and chest. You felt like heaven and he was ready to repent.

Your moans echoed around the space as you lifted your hips up against him. Your breath caught in the back of your throat from the slow oscillation of his hips, hands gripping your skin and manicured nails digging into your sides creating small crescent indents. The slow pumps soon changed to a desperate pace. Ferocious in the snap of his hips against your own, white fringe fanning along the sides of your face as pants and grunts were exchanged. The space around him blurred and he could only focus on the way you sucked him in so sweetly, the tight hug of your walls against his cock, his balls tightening as he grew closer, unsure how much longer he’d last. Perfect, you were perfect as you laid underneath him taking everything he gave to you. Toes curling, lashes fluttering, back arching up into him. He took this opportunity to move a hand behind you, supporting your back to allow your sweat glistening bodies to collide. He pushed his other hand down between you, massaging your abused, needy clit.

Addicted. Izana needed you to get addicted to his touch- from the way he kissed you fervently to the graze of his nails down your back as he reached your ass. Grabbing the plush skin, kneading it in his palm as he continued to torment your body. It was maddening the way he knew exactly how to please you, how to get under your skin so easily and made you crumble at his mercy. The band in your stomach tightened again as you cried out his name in choked syllables from the overstimulation, hoping he’d let you cum this time. When you finally reached your peak, it was him who came first. One final pump, one final slam of his cock as far into you as he could go, his hot liquid spurting deep as he groaned out your name. The sudden rush of heat into your abdomen proved your own orgasm. Walls clamping down around him, pulsating, as your thighs trembled, hands pulling at the ends of his hair.

You were completely spent as he held you, chest to chest, slowly laying you down against the pillows. Sweat glittering on your skin like new sun against the ocean horizon. You were so beautiful to him in this moment. Your chest heaving as you laid there, looking into his softening eyes as you came down from your high. His sinful gaze examining every inch of your body, a small flow of white liquid from between your thighs caught his attention. He leaned down, pushing your pussy lips apart with his index and middle finger, forming a v-shape to inspect.

“My little dove, you shouldn’t waste any- I gave this to you; all for you.” He tutted as he swept the spilling fluid from your pussy.

You shivered at the touch as he collected the mix of cum onto his fingers. He brought them up to eye level, separating the tips of his fingers as a string of sticky liquid spread, still connecting them. He shifted his gaze back to you, the small part of your mouth giving him an idea. He crawled back over you, legs straddling your waist as he gripped your cheeks in his tanned hand, making sure you wouldn’t be able to refuse. He grinned as he slid his slick covered fingers between your lips, pressing them down against your tongue and far enough back to make you gag around his digits. Just the sinful sight of your tongue cleaning him off was enough to make him hard again, but he’d give you your break, for now. He pushed your jaw closed as he pulled his hand away, barely seeing the white on your tongue. His eyes rolled back as he groaned before leaning down to press his lips to yours. The saltiness of cum mixing with your intoxicatingly sweet taste was something of a dream for him.

He laid down next to you, pulling you into his toned chest as he kissed you. Tongues twirling so delicately against each other as your lips moved in perfect sync. Maybe he was right and you were made for him, but why were fresh tears falling from the corners of your eyes? You felt his lips curve upwards into a small smile as he trailed them across your cheek to your ear, his fingertips drawing soothing patterns against your back as he whispered-

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

And in the fog he created in the glass around your summer heart, blurring coherent answers, you nodded as your started to fall asleep, breathing in tune with his own as you cuddled yourself closer-

“Always, Izana…”

tags: @tokyometronetwork @blueparadis @momoewn @r-oronoa

[joonberriess]

omggg oc's p*ssy will be gushing because of her hot fil.

dripping, till the room stank and the sheets r ripped off the bed. im afraid she won’t be able to walk after this 😭

[mcfallen-god]

My tavs, a (long) post

Aesthetics and backstories above ✨

(yes too many, no you can't judge me, yes I play them all once in a while, no I haven't completed the game yet with any of them, yes I also have a game as Astarion, no you still can't judge me, yes I tell you shut the fuck up with most genuine and tender love)

Lothithil, high-elf, warlock, he/they, chaotic neutral

Lothithil is an orphan (maybe his parents died in a silly accident or murdered or he is a refugee from somewhere for some reason, neither Lothithil nor I know nor really care).

He was found by an inn keeper around Baldur's Gate (Lothithil has very, very little memory of how and where the human found him, he just remembers living with him for some years)

The man who picked him up was a human and had the boy working at the inn through Lothithil's early years. The inn owner is not exactly a perfect good guy, he had never been violent and treated Lothithil bad, but he is a gambler and tended to have a lot of debts.

One day he gambled too big for his own good and he couldn't afford to repay the guys he was in debt to. So, naturally, these guys came and threatened to burn his inn if he didn’t pay. He begged them to spare the inn and offered Lothithil instead. And just like this, the boy went from hand to hand.

The boy felt a bit betrayed at first, but as he thought it out, he never got involved emotionally with the man, neither did the innkeeper. They were not family to begin with. He offered the kid a shelter, food and a place to sleep. After all Lothithil was but a stray dog to the human. So he never exactly felt mad at him, just thankful for the time he spent at the inn, but he never really held grudge (and being a long-live beings help to put things into perspective, he now just looks kind of fondly at his years at the inn).

With the group of thugs, Lothithil learnt to lie and to steal (the guys kinda liked him, the boy was resourceful, charming and fun).

After some years, those guys – who were mostly human or at least aged like humans – turned old. As they eventually aged and retired – just left Baldur’s Gate, got arrested or died anyway – Lothithil was teenish and parted way with them.

He then met a couple of human warlock, who offered him to come with them. He was more or less adopted by them and joined their family. They had very small ‘cult’ where all of them were warlocks and shared the same patron. Lothithil choose to become a warlock as well and to join the ‘cult’.

Though, they all remained humans, aging and eventually passing away. Their children took after them to carry their little cult on, but Lothithil decided to leave.

Now he is almost an adult in terms of high-elf age, and he has enough resources to get his own ass out of mess and all. He doesn’t have any specific goal in life, he just likes to hang in there, sometimes on the roads, sometimes in the city. He likes to meet people and learn about their stories, he likes to mingle with them and have some fun (*wink wonk*), but he remains relatively without ties.

He is not aromantic, but maybe demi-romantic. He is really at ease with sex and is opened to many things. He is pansexual, kind-of switch but he likes it when he has his p*ssy stuffed lol.

Ash/Lith (DU), half-high-elf, bard, they/them, neutral evil

Ash (Lith) is my Dark Urge.

Their early life was happy and peaceful. Ash’s parents were two gentle, humble humans who found the baby by their little cottage’s door. Back then, Ash had another name, but they never ever used it again after the ‘event’...

It happened one night, the whole day Ash suffered a terrible fever and, through their sleep, they heard it. The dark urge calling.

Everything happened pretty quickly, and when Ash came back to his senses, they were standing in the middle of an inferno, the little cottage burning madly and the both corpse of their parents were ripped at their feet. Wet blood gleaming under the raging flames.

Ash felt disoriented, looking at their hands covered in blood and at the two dead bodies; they couldn’t *feel* anything. As a joist broke and crashed on Ash, half of their face and their left eye were burnt. It took them out of the torpor and they ran out of the blaze.

They stayed by the burning house, looking at flames until it died as well. From the ashes, they took their new name. The dark urge remained strong within them after that, and turned them rather insensitive and disconnected from their feelings, apathetic.

They are completely aromantic, and probably something like demi-sexual, as they are actually turned on by violence, murder, lies and generally by situation like: people witnessing the results of their crime without knowing it is Ash’s doing.

After the tadpole event, even if they wake up without any memories, they feel at ease with the killing urge and love the little itch it is to them.

Willow/Tathar, half-wood-elf, paladin, they/them, neutral good

Willow (Tathar) lived their early life with their father, their human parent (he gave birth to Willow, as both mom and dad are actually trans characters).

Willow’s mother and father sincerely loved each other, but knowing he will age and eventually die way faster than her, they both agree they should parted. Though, dad hardly ever let go of his feelings for her, while she, being an elven kind, got easily detached. Yet, when mom left, she didn't know dad was pregnant (neither did dad). Dad never got angry with mom, and never really tried to find her either. He understood that elves have a different emotional attachment due to their long life expectancy. And dad knew to begin with, at the start of their relationship, that it would end this way, they enjoyed their love story, but it was just impossible for them to stay together forever, obviously.

Dad always was very sincere with Willow and explained how happy mom and him were and how they parted on an a common agreement. He  also explain how he will eventually die when Willow is still young.

The both of them lived a happy and quiet life, for many years, but as dad started to age way faster than Willow, he had to have a talk with his child about their future. Father encouraged Willow to go connect with their elvish culture. As they never grew up among wood elf, Willow have some (many) things they don't know about their own origins and traditions.

Willow hardly agreed at first, but they quickly understood their father just wanted his child to have ties with their mother’s side. They promised they will left and wandered the world to learn about their culture, but only after their father is gone. They stayed at dad's side as he aged and passed away. It was their father who made them pick a god to worship. With such a patron, father was sure Willow would be safe after he left this world.

Now, Willow wander and feel eager to learn about their other mother's side, they are not especially trying to find her, as she is basically a nobody to them, but at least to learn about wood elf’s habits and customs.

Willow is a bit silly, very kind hearted. Thy can't bear injustice and don’t mind to hit first talk after if the situation requires so. They have no issues to kill, but they rather only kills the bad guys. They are a very enthusiastic person in terms of relationship, but has a hard time to label and bounder the said relationship. A friend can be a lover or a sexual partner alike. It is not mean, it is not absence of caring, but they just genuinely don’t know the limits, but if you explain very clearly and straightforwardly you look for an exclusive relationship, they will understand, but I’m not sure they will stick with you on a one-to-one relationship. Thus, Willow is clearly pansexual and polyamory.

Perslay, human, bard, he/him, true neutral

Perslay has the plainest backstory.

He is born from human parents, themselves part of a theatre company. He grew up in Baldur's Gate with them and the troupe. He started to be part of their show at a young age and he always meant to be a people entertainer. He never really went into an actual adventure ever, though he travelled with the troupe and can definitely fight for himself.

When his parents retired due to aging, and settled down in Baldur’s Gate for good, Perslay left and travelled with another company. Him and his parents are not in bad terms, he is just naturally independent and eager to perform on stage or in the street.

He only really was punched into adventure kind of travel because of the mind flayer’s abduction...

Perslay’s grumpiness and rather selfish temper makes him a bit hard-to-befriend person, but he is not completely heartless either. If you learn how to handle him, if you successfully pass through his attitude and become his friend, he will be your best ally and kill for you. But if you decide to betray him, you better be prepared man.

He is not exactly a warry person, he is more like: no matter who you are, what is your business, can you help with my problem? Come on, wanna try to stop me? Get lost.

He is very, very homosexually gay and loves big, strong men. Perslay is that one gay friend gossiping with his she friends about you. He never fell in love, but doesn’t mind trying; in the meanwhile he is a pretty sexually active guy.

Macyra, tiefling, sorcerer, she/her, lawful good

Macyra is homeless and alone; as her homeplace had been attacked and destroyed by humans. It happened when she was young and doesn’t remember much of the original event that triggers the conflict, but she remembers her father taking her sister and herself and taking them out of the house. The little village was burning and everyone was running away.  They got separated at some point, her father letting go of her and she had been dragged away by the running crowd. She doesn’t know if they are dead or alive.

After the tragedy, Macyra roamed with a couple of other young Tieflings, in the wild. At some point, they met with an old woman, a sorcerer Drow living by herself in the wood. She saved them and raised them rightfully. The Drow taught them to hear and use their natural magic.

She also taught them to always remember their origins, but to not feel restricted by it; she warned them that humans would never fully accepted them, as their appearance is the stigma of their ancestors’ misbehaviour and it is not a reason to prove them right. One should be judged on their own actions and not on their kins or kinds actions.

These teachings never left Macyra as she grew up and left the Drow’s side to wander the world by herself.

In every time and place, she uses her natural magic to work for people and to try to make them see her – and her kind – as less threatening.

As she travels, she tries to find any information about her father or her sister, unable to give up on them.

Macyra is a quiet and rather serious woman. She enjoys books, calm time, and she hardly just knows how to ‘have fun’ but she is not against it. She is just kind of hard to herself, socially clumsy and always does things like taming her voice, her moves, her actions to be sure to not frighten  people around her. She is naturally tall and large, and her whole appearance can be a bit scary for those not used to the sight of a Tiefling, but she is a good girl.

She is an helpless romantic, even if she never allowed herself to indulge in the warmth of romance. Macyra is not ace, but she is a bit impressed by sex and, since she is naturally large, she knows she can easily frighten partners. She never thought about her romantic label and thinks she can probably be with anyone as long as she fell for them, so you can consider her as a pansexual. Also, she might be very romantic, she is not opposed to the idea of polyamory.

Jas, githyanki, barbarian, he/him, chaotic neutral

Jas is just a… kind of himbo? Or more like he-bimbo?

Nothing goes in his mind really. Eating and using his strength is all he understands, and cares about.

Oh and he absolutely LOVES silver things (plate, forks, weapon and coins alike).

He will do whatever you ask him if you are persuasive enough, unless it is the opposite of what he wants.

About his young years, he has a rather classical life for a githyanki. Fight and fight and win fight and one day, ride a dragon kind of life.

After the mind flayer’s abduction, he sticks to Lae’zel. She is like him. She looks pretty. She is strong. She can fold him in half. She is githyanki with a brain.

She is not ugly and kid of scary like the long nose guys and the horned dudes.

He hardly grasps the concept of romantic attraction, but is really happy at anyone able to give him a good time, pegging him down, regardless of gender.

Veylin, half-drow, warlock, he/him, chaotic neutral

Veilyn is an orphan Drow (half elf, half Drow actually, but that is fact unknown to himself) who was raised in the Underdark.

As an orphan, he ended up "employed" (basically a slave) at the house of a rich and powerful Drow's couple.

He was their "boy-who-do-everything"; cleaning, cooking, shopping, and other dirtier jobs: like cleaning after their ‘parties’ (if you know what I mean), or if the couple had an enemy, Veylin was sent to assassinate them over the night.

At some point, Veylin grew exhausted of this lifestyle; especially since he is not exactly well treated, being fed with left overs or little dishes, being physically punished when his work is not good enough – or when one of them is just upset –, assisting to all kinds of debauchery, and having absolutely no freedom.

One day, another slave decided to riot. They teamed up with other slaves and started to fight with those who were still loyal to the Drow’s couple. It all was a big mess.

People fighting, slaves running away, house burning, authority coming to try to settle the shit down. But, in the end, Veylin used that opportunity to run away.

By then, he is barely a young adult who knows nothing from the outside world, apart from its existence. He is barely able to read; but he knows how to speak basic, since the Drow couple had many kind of visitors and he had to learn how to serve the guests well. He has good assassin’s skills, he can cook.

Though, he never ever saw something as shiny as the sun ever, so when he finally, firstly reached the outside world, he was scared by sight of so many light and hid back for a while. As night came, he saw the light going down and wandered out. It was a shock for him, that the outside world can be sometime so full of light and sometimes so dark.

Veylin started to travel, mostly at night, because he is more at ease with the darkness. At some point, he met with another traveller, their encounter was a bit chaotic at first, as the other traveller was a green-skinned woman Tiefling with long, curved horns and dancing tail. Veylin never ever met a Tiefling before, and he felt a bit freaked out, but the Tiefling was kind and patient enough to help and explain. She explained about her kind and listened to Veylin’s story; she also warned him about how Drow were perceived in this world and he should learn to act accordingly. They parted ways at the next village, after she showed him the basics of life here.

After the abduction, Veylin’s main goal is to get rid of the tadpole at every cost.

He won his freedom and he craves to keep it. He will kill and fight his way out of anything without hesitation in the name of his own freedom. On his journey, he will learn how to make friend, open to others and – most importantly – entrust others, but it is not an easy thing for him.

Veylin is still young, unexperienced in terms of love, but experienced in terms of sex. He doesn’t mind the gender of his partners, but he definitely is a bottom.

Kiaran, drow, wizard, she/her, neutral good

Kiaran is an old Drow lady who values knowledge and culture above anything. She lived part of her young years in the Underdark with her mother. One day, a man came in their life, a human wizard. He was kind and wise, he initially visited the Underdark for his researches, but fell in love with Kiaran’s mother and stayed with them. He was kind to the little girl and taught her the base of his knowledge. Kiaran liked him and his words a lot, they could spent all days together, reading books and learning magic, he said she was really talented!

It was a nice period. After some years, the human proposed the two Drow to come with him, back to the outside world. They agreed.

Kiaran was still young, but she clearly remember the amazement it was to her, to discover so many new things. They installed with him in his laboratory, on the edge of a village. More nice years passed peacefully; even though the villagers weren’t so happy to have ‘dark elves’ so close to their homes, the old wizard always managed to keep peace in the neighbourhood.

But the wizard was an old human and he eventually passed away when Kiaran was still young. As he was not there anymore to protect them from the villagers, then the tragedy occurred.

They came and threatened them, wanting to force them away. Kiaran’s mother refused, saying they have as much right to stay there as these humans. They disagreed, but left them be. For now.

The head of the village paid a mercenary to come and get rid of them. The man acted at night, locking all doors and windows from outside, and set fire to the laboratory while the two Drow were sleeping. They woke up and tried to get out, but all the exists were blocked. So, Kiran’s mother took her daughter and ran upstairs, and from one of these windows, she throw the girl out.

Kiaran survived, but had her face and body burnt, and had other injuries from the fall. Her mother died in the house, alongside with all the old wizard’s books, notes and knowledge.

After that day, Kiaran decided to never ever let anyone look down on her or treat her bad regarding her appearance or origins. She wanders the world to learn always more and more, she also take on herself to educate people the soft or hard way on her journey.

She is basically your local mommy; bisexual, and kinda dome-like, she doesn’t mind her partner’s preferred role, she can do it all.

[thenightling]

The reality of "Cancel culture" is jus an annoying casual bullying to make people stop talking about various subjects

Last night I posted something that amused me about Spirit Halloween. It was about spirit Halloween now selling adult sized reproduction Ben Cooper Halloween costumes (Popular but very cheap kids Halloween costumes from the 1930s to the early 1990s).

This resulted in someone hijacking my Tumblr post about to give a "Friendly reminder" that we shouldn't buy anything from Spirit Halloween because Spirit Halloween is owned by Spencer's Gifts and "in 2016 Spencer's gifts sold 'Grab America by the p-ssy' shirts and they have yet to apologize!"

I don't care. Yes, it's disgusting that Trump said he could grab a woman by her p-ssy and get away with it. Yes, the shirt was in poor taste but I'm not avoiding a store because it's owned by the same people who own another store that sold a tasteless shirt EIGHT years ago!

I am tired of being told what I should or shouldn't interact with.

I run a Neil Gaiman's The Sandman Facebook group and I was called a TERF apologist and even Transphobe all because I won't ban the mention of J. K. Rowling. She is literally mentioned in episode 11 of The Sandman Netflix series. And Neil Giaman's four part story The Books of Magic is often mistaken as a Harry Potter rip-off even though it was published over seven-years before the first Harry Potter book was published.

Even though my group's very first rule is "No bigotry" I was accused of leaving transphobic content on the group. Someone in "The Trailer Park Pagans are at it Again" group even kept a bunch of posts from transphobes from within my Sandman group from before I could ban them (Most of those troll posts were less than eleven minutes old when screen grabbed) to make it look like I allowed that crap.

When Hocus Pocus 2 was released to Disney+ someone in my group decided to announce that Bette Midler was a transphobe and she "No longer felt safe in the group" if I talked about Hocus Pocus. Like simply mentioning a fictional character Bette Midler played will make her manifest in their bedroom.

I am NOT justifying or "apologizisting" anything Bette Midler has said. Liking those films is not based on the personal lives of the women involved.

I posted an ASMR video by "Jim's ASMR" based on The Sandman and someone felt the need to tell me how "Problematic" he is because he cheated on his wife in real life with other ASMR artists.

I posted a Nostalgia Critic video and get a lecture about how problematic Channel Awesome is (Yes, I know. I know. I saw the manifesto.)

I really like Danny Elfman. Recently there were some awful accusations tied to him from decades ago that I will not defend but thankfully it appears there was no real evidence anyway. But apparently I'm not supposed to listen to my old recordings anymore, even though he's not getting any new money for them. Annoyingly some people have even used his Oingo Boingo song "Little Girls" as "Proof" that he's a sexual predator even though the song was meant to be a call out to shame people in Hollywood who take advantage of underage girls. You're not supposed to like the main character of the song, and he's even caught at the end of the music video version.

I was told Netflix's Castlevania is problematic and I should avoid it because of some misbehavior of the show's writer. I LIKE Castlevania!

I've been told to avoid Tim Burton because he's "racist" even though I've seen him make a conscious effort to be a lot more diverse in his casting.

On Facebook someone tried to scold me for being Wiccan. They lectured me because Wiccans borrow from other religions and there for "Culturally appropriate." Well, name any religion that doesn't do that. I replied with more or less that challenge and got "If you acknowledge the problematic elements of Wiccan why don't you avoid it?"

Because I'm a f--king adult and I don't avoid all things that are "Problematic." All religions borrow from other religions. There's no pure and untainted form of Paganism. It's Neo Paganism for a reason. And most of it was reinvented or cobbled together in the nineteenth century, just slightly older than modern Wicca pieced together from ancient folk beliefs.

Spirit Halloween Spencer's Gifts J. K. Rowling Harry Potter Bette Midler Hocus Pocus Nostalgia Critic Jim's ASMR videos Danny Elfman Castlevania Tim Burton Wicca (My own religion!)

I've reached a point where I'm sick of being told what I should avoid even discussing because it's "Problematic" or offensive. Note: I am NOT justifying sexual abuse or J. K. Rowling's anti-Trans views.

I understand there's a valid reason to avoid some of these things if you have strong convictions about them and that's up to you but I do not appreciate my posts being hijacked to be given a "Friendly reminder" why you shouldn't shop at Spirit Halloween.

"Friendly reminder" YOU don't get to dictate what I talk about or where I shop, or what music I listen to. If it's problematic that's on me. It's not your business. If I want to listen to an ASMR by a man-whore who doesn't know who to be faithful so what? I'm not sleeping with him, I'm listening to his semi-hypnotic insomnia aid videos.

[markjelol1112]

I'm yours a Ningning x Giselle ningselle story p1

Mark Killian and Thomas went go to a world championship karate of jasmine but Daniël was not in the mood for that and has other plans as Winter Karina and Ningning where there too this was the chance of Daniël for fulfill his dream to be a father now but Mark told Daniël to do not doing that as they left the house Daniël heading to Giselle her room

Daniël thinks what Mark said to him to not gonna do this but he doesn't listen he stands at the door of Giselle her room but the words of Mark telling him to return hurting his head and wants to have a child with Giselle but the words from Mark still keep spinning around like crazy like he is forced to return to his room

As Daniël knocked on Giselle her door

Yes who's there." Giselle said again

Giselle it's me Daniël." Daniël said again

Giselle opened the door and saw Daniël

Hi can we talk about something." Daniël said again

Daniël I can't Ningning will be mad at me and at you Daniël so will you turn around and go away." Giselle said again

As Daniël locked the door

Daniël what the f*ck are you doing

Nobody is home so we are all alone." Daniël said again

Daniël no get out." Giselle said again

As Daniël kissed Giselle and Giselle gasped for that but returned the kiss

As Daniël used his tongue into Giselle Giselle let out a soft moan out her mouth as she pulled Daniël to her bed

Daniël you make me doing this." Giselle said again

Oh yeah finally." Daniël said again

As Giselle ripped the clothes of Daniël of his body and Daniël has a boner in his underwear and Giselle saw that and s*cking it with pleasure

Daniël likes it what he made for Giselle

As Giselle was putting her clothes off she was completely n*ked and she put Daniël his d*ck in her p*ssy and moaned when she went up and down

Yes I wanted this all along." Daniël said again

Make me pregnant then do it now." Giselle said again

Oh my god I'm going to c*m." Daniël said again

And Daniël c*mmed in Giselle her p*ssy as Giselle moaned after the c*m of Daniël came in her

Daniël don't tell anyone about this okay." Giselle said again

I won't okay." Daniël said again

And he put his clothes on and got in his room immediately before someone noticed it

As Mark Thomas Killian jasmine Karina Winter and Ningning came home something just happened but they just celebrated the golden medal of jasmine her world championship karate she is world champion of karate now

We are home." Mark said again

I going to Giselle maybe she is okay." Ningning said again

Good idea we will celebrate tomorrow." Mark said again

As everyone was sleeping Giselle was getting dizzy

Ugh my head." Giselle said

Giselle babe is everything okay." Ningning said again

Yeah I'm fine." Giselle said again

Okay goodnight my love." Ningning said again

Goodnight my love Ningning." Giselle said again

As the next morning came Giselle was getting more and more dizzy and ran to the toilets and she thrown up

What the f*ck was that." Jasmine said again

I don't know we gonna look." Mark said again

As Mark and Jasmine where the first founding Giselle on the toilet throwing up

GUYS COME OVER HERE NOW GISELLE IS SICK." Mark yelled again

What's going on." Ningning said again

Don't ask me Ningning." Thomas said again

Ugh this sickness is killing me." Giselle said again

But Mark noticed something but didn't find out what or who it was or be

Jasmine I gave you permission to do something to someone if I know who it is." Mark said again

As Daniël took 2 steps backwards

Daniël what have you done." Killian said again

What me uhm nothing." Daniël

Suspicious Daniël Luckily I got this." Mark said again

As Daniël knew that it was indeed a pregnancy test

Here take this Giselle." Mark said again

As Giselle took the pregnancy test and test herself

12 minutes later everyone heard Giselle screaming in the bathroom as Mark was first there to look

What is it Giselle." Mark said again

It's positive I'm pregnant." Giselle said again

I'm gonna be a mother." Ningning said again

Uhm Ningning a woman cannot make a women pregnant you know that." Mark said again

[yesloulou]

Ill be honest. Idk if I am making sense here but I find Daniel’s attitude and overall lack of comprehension toward the intended - subtle or not - misogyny that he’s around a MAJOR ICK!

I’m thinking of the European 🐱comment, this book etc. Daniel doesn’t come out with anything but a laugh and stunned silence instead of “hey look, let’s not objectify women” or “ah it’s a bit of fun isn’t it? For me, it’s weird, but let’s not shame the person who has written it”. In private he can laugh at as many 🐱 jokes as he wants too, he can talk all day long about how f*cking weird fanfics about him are BUT when it’s in the public eye and he has hundreds of thousands of female fans, it’s pretty gross and feels like he doesn’t care about female fans at all. (Idk if this makes sense in the way I’ve written it)

We all know he doesn’t keep up with the news (he’s said so himself) but he comes across as tone deaf sometimes. You can get away with that at 22,23 but he’s in his 30s with a girlfriend. Come on! It’s not exactly giving “I have a girlfriend and a sister and would hate for my girlfriend and sister to be spoken about like that so let’s chill with the sexist, double standard comments.”

Don’t get me wrong, he’s not the only one (Pierre is a major eyeroll) but he’s not 25, he’s old enough to know better. If this Dax book thing isn’t cut and the drug addict continues to push Daniel to talk about it then shame on Daniel for not saying no - from both his side in it being weird and for ripping apart a female who was just doing something she enjoyed

Just my take. I’ll probably get shit for this

this ask is from a week ago.. sorry about the late response 😳 also the podcast incident has been discussed many many times in the past so i really hope me answering this ask won't reopen the discourse.

pretty sure this was related to the other ask about daniel's non-confrontational personality so im just gonna go from there. if daniel were a confrontational person and he chooses to not address the host's misogynistic remarks, then i think it'd be worth discussing whether he lacks the comprehension. but he's not. in fact he resolves conflicts in the most non-confrontational way possible. and im not saying this just to make a point. when i say 'the most' i really mean non-confrontational in like an almost pathological way.

example:

this was after z*k brown fired him in the most public and disrespectful way possible, including assuring him he still has a seat when they'd already given his seat to oscar. mysterious italian man said to him 'told you not to trust zak' and he just. smiled like this.

another example:

here max can be seen getting more and more annoyed for daniel by the second. meanwhile daniel smiled bigger and bigger. and when max interrupted to defend him daniel was NOT SURPRISED AT ALL even though he had appeared totally ok with Crofty’s question up until that point

idk why he is the way he is, but to me it's very obvious he's not a confrontational person. he's like the opposite of confrontational (would literally smile bigger when he's uncomfortable/offended) idek if they have a word for that. "hey look let's not" is just not something he would say.

i do find it disappointing that he didn't call out the host for the p*ssy comment. imo a moment like that is where he (anybody) should've spoken up regardless. but i'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust that he didn't react simply for the same reason he doesn't react to offensiveness/hostility in general. to me it doesn't necessarily mean he lacks the sensitivity or comprehension.

(the book thing was a whole different story tho. that book was literally erotica written about him. for him it's personal. imo he doesn't need to worry about how the writer feels at all)

[lakemichiganlolita]

waughhhhhhh ur latest advent fic 😫😫😫😫 would love to hear any and all of ur thots on patrick's p*ssy if u r so inclined 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

catch me answering this instead of writing day 27 but.... what can i say i love that little cunt

so sweet delicious soft generous. comes so easy. he always tries so hard to wait to be filled up but even if he manages it he's spasming around pete's cock the second he gets it. he's always been so sensitive. pete uses it for evil, manhandles him into crazy positions to experience it Anew, and patrick pouts but he secretly loves it, loves being indulged, loves that pete loves his body so much and what it can do. i'm no omegaverse expert but maybe he's had weird shitty traditionalist boyfriends who didn't care if he came or made him feel weird that he wanted to come a lot. which is amazing because sometimes the slightest touch sets him off. but the fact that pete's pleasure seems to be intrinsically tied to how much he can give patrick... well.

and when they have a whole day to themselves is where pete thrives. when patrick is exhausted from orgasm after orgasm from pete's tongue and hands and maybe some toys is when pete gets his. only when his baby is sated can he actually feel complete. he rips one or two more out of patrick's body for the fun of it and then finally gets around to fitting his dick in, unbelievably hot rippling cunt wrapping around him soft and tight. can barely move with the way patrick grips him and holds him. they were made to fit together, patrick drawing him in even as he cries too much, body so worn out but knowing he needs pete in him or it'll complain later, ache for his alpha. it's always slow because pete wants to savor it, feel patrick work around him and practically cuddle as they fuck. so much love and attention and he leaves patrick's legs shaking, soft broken moans falling from his lips, both of them begging for what neither know but they just need

[parksnqhoon]

✯𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬✯

꧁ℳ𝒹𝓃𝒾꧂ ༻ +18 ༺ ⁂𝓅𝓁𝓈 ℯ𝓃𝒿ℴ𝓎⁂

Paring: 𝒷ℴ𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹!𝓈𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒽ℴℴ𝓃 𝓍 𝒹ℴ𝓂!𝓈𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒽ℴℴ𝓃 𝓍 𝓈𝓊𝒷!𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

Genre: 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉，𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻 𝒶𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒸𝒶𝓇ℯ

Warnings: ℴ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓅ℴ𝓌ℯ𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔!𝒸𝒽ℴ𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔! 𝒷ℴ𝓃𝒹𝒶𝑔ℯ!𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔!𝓈𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝓊𝓉!𝓃𝓈𝒻𝓌!

“Hey baby want to go out to dinner tonight I have found this good spot in Seoul for really fancy and nice place I want to take you, I had to make this reservation a few months ago” he said proudly with a grin on his face like he had something planned.

“Sure let me get into my clothes and do my hair really quickly.” You said happily

Few minutes later

You felt something weird in your underwear when putting them on but didn’t mind. when you look at sunghoon when getting in the car he looked mischievous with a smirky grin on his face. All of a sudden you have the sensation of something vibrating on your p*ssy. “ sunghoon why did you d-d-do this right now we need to get to the restaurant”. You say trying to hold in your moans. “Baby do you like the present I got for you, doesn’t it just suit you, I know this is what you wanted because you were bothering me all day.” He said while starting to drive to the restaurant.

Internally you wanted to fuck him all day long because he was in his black sweats with a white tee, so you kept leading him on, but never able to get a response back from him.

“But I kept telling you all day but you didn’t want to tell me anything” you say with a pout while he turn up the power. “ baby you didn’t tell me what you wanted. You kept rubbing on my leg like a damn dog” he said with a slight attitude.

Arriving at the restaurant

You both sit down at the table and start to order. “ could I get your order, miss what would you like today.” The waiter says. “ oh yes could I have the sirloin s-s-s-steak” you kick sung hoon under the table and look at his direction. “Dear is something wrong” the waiter looks confused and slightly worried. “ everything is fine, sorry something was in my throat”. Sung hoon started snickering. “ but yes I want the sirloin steak with the green beans and mashed potatoes.” You said. Sung hoon soon ordered and both enjoyed the meals and soon went home from you getting overpowered by the vibrator at the restaurant.

At Home

When you opened the door to your home you went inside in a hurry to take your underwear off to get the vibrator out of them. You seen it had a diamond on it and as you watched it glisten in the light. Sung hoon soon started to rub on you with his hands trailing down to your parts you’ve been waiting for all day. “Isn’t it pretty I told you it suited you” he said while licking your neck. “ baby could you wait till we at least get in the bedroom”. You said with a smirk. He soon picked you up and carried you hurriedly to the bedroom and ripped your undergarments right off of you. “ baby you look quite nice down here, I wonder how it taste” he says while his drool begins to fall on to your lips. You started shivering from the warmth of his spit falling into you p*ssy.

He begins to smoother you and you couldn’t help but not moan out loud. He begins to go faster and faster. An you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Baby you have to hold it in for me”. Sung hoon says with a grin. He gets up and starts walking to the closet and pulling out a box you’ve seen many times before and he pulls out a blind fold.”baby put this on” you obey him and put on the blindfold. As soon as you put it on you felt a hand on your throat and sunghoon entering himself into you. He started off roughly and faster than usual.” B-b-ba-bab-baby oh my gawd baby y-.” You couldn’t even think straight while he was fucking you into your stomach and you soon felt him rearranging everything inside. “Baby don’t you like this, me tearing your insides up, baby don’t c*m yet thought I’m not finished with you.” He says whispering in your ear.” You started slightly shaking from the speed he’s going and the pressure on your p*ssy.

You started seeing your vision going blurry and you started feeling limp and you started seeing diamonds falling. Sung hoon shook you and you soon woke up a second after seeing diamond. “ is my pretty baby slut passing out on me, you wouldn’t want to sleep on this baby I promise.” He says. “ baby I feel like I’m about to go ba-ba-baby oh my gawd baby you feel so good.” You say soon about to c*m.

He soon flipped you over. You started arching your back going limp in your arms trying your best to keep yourself in his pace. He starts speeding up again and hitting your spot right and you begin to shake hard and you felt water coming out of your p*say and you begin to go limp and fall onto the pillow in-front of you. He flips you over again and eats you out. “ baby you taste so fresh once you came, baby didn’t you like this surprise, you passed out on me though baby. Was I a little to hard on you princess.” He starts eating you out. Feeling overstimulated you begin to close your legs soon suffocating him with your p*ssy. “ baby fuck your tounge is so good baby keep going baby I think I’m about to go again, baby omg,fuck baby, baby.” You c*m within seconds of releasing his head.

He goes up to you taking the blind fold off finding your tear stained cheeks.” Aww did I go to hard on you princess”. He says kissing your tear stained cheeks. “ baby you did great.” You say beginning to lean into him cuddling him.” He begins kissing you and whispering into your ear of how much he loves you and adores you. He begins cleaning up the mess he made and bathing you, putting clothes on you. You both watch a movie and fall asleep in each others arms.

Authors note: ⁱ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᶠ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳᵗʰᵉˡᵉˢˢ “ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˡᶠⁱᵉˢ“ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᵍⁱʳˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᵈⁱᵃᵐᵒⁿᵈˢ ʰᵉʰᵉʰᵉ ⁱ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗˢ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉˡᵘˡᵘ ᵗʰᵒᵍʰᵗˢ…