#the vibe these past few months tbh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neowinestainedress · 6 months

Text

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 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s on the other side is worse.

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

“Surpriiise!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will it — will it break my heart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gulp and automatically close your legs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We didn’t kill anybody there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see.

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

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

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

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

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

956 notes · View notes

starry-eyed-wild-child · 17 days

Text

tate langdon boyfriend headcanons

tate langdon x reader

. oh lord, buckle up guys, you're in for a wild one

. definitely fell first and 100% harder and you can't tell me otherwise

. we all know how tate is, he's very clingy and he's very very possessive of what's his. and that's how he views you, you're his and nobody else's

. would definitely stay hidden at first, just so he could watch you for a bit. at this point, there's nothing about you that tate doesn't know

. when you finally meet, tate swears he could die all over again and he'd die happy

. tate would definitely act more innocent than he actually is. this boy knows how to cry on command and he will use it to his advantage, don't think just because he loves you that he wouldn't

. if anything, he does it because he loves you and he can't have you leave him like violet did

. i hope you like nirvana, because tate will not listen to something that you like if he doesn't enjoy it. he's not very good at that

. tate always needs to be touching you. all the time. whether it's an arm around you or holding hands, this boy craves physical touch and to be the centre of your attention

. will probably try his best to get your friends to stop hanging around you so he can have you all to himself. will deliberately scare them to stop them from coming to the house

. would also certainly lie about ever doing such a thing were you to confront him about it

. tate wouldn't ever want you to ever leave the house., if he had his way that is. would hate it if you chose to spend time with other people

. like what did they have that he didn't?

. he would 100% be the type that watches you even when you're asleep. or anytime, really.

. would definitely want you to commit suicide, so that you can be with him forever. you of course find this idea insane and don't think he actually means it

. he does. he's 100% serious

. i can imagine that tate gives really good hugs though. the warm, bear hugs that you never want to leave because they make you feel so secure and safe

. is very big on comforting you after a bad day. he'll listen to your rants, let you cry in your arms, whatever you need him for and he'll do it

. let's be honest though, it's probably just another way he gains your trust so that you won't ever think of leaving him

. feels extremely guilty if he ever hurt you in any way, or upset you

. would probably just disappear for a few days because he can't face the fact that he's hurt you. but obviously he comes back because the boy can't help himself

. tate is your ride or die. he would die for you all over again if you asked him to and alternatively would kill for you if that's what you required

. makes silly little handmade gifts for you. tate can't leave the house so he has time to be creative

. board game nights/dates are very frequent with the two of you. it's even better if it's raining outside, it sets a nice vibe

. loves, loves halloween. the two of you would carve pumpkins together and sit for hours in your room telling ghost stories and drinking apple cider

. if tate had his own way, you'd never meet his mother

. you do eventually and she probably hates you lmao, but do we really care let's be real here

. tate is the kind of boyfriend that would make a playlist for you as a present

. he'd try his hardest to make sure you don't find out about his past. which lasted about 2 months max because you're not stupid

. violet, vivien and moira would try and protect you at all costs. they're like your three guardian angels, whether they decide to show themselves to you or not

. i imagine you'd actually get on with violet really well

. this could go one of two ways with tate. he'd love it, both girls he'd loved were getting along, makes his life easier. or, he'd hate it. hate that you choose to spend time with the girl that broke his heart

. isn't really big on nicknames tbh, he thinks your name is the most beautiful word he knows, and so he wouldn't dream of calling you anything else

. tate is 100% the little spoon, don't fight me on this

. absolutely lives for your affection. he thrives best on it

. would be sweet but low-key toxic, so solid 6/10

#ahs #ahs murder house #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader

204 notes · View notes

mariii1 · 6 months

Text

♡YOUR NEXT HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP♡

(These piles are hella long, a lot came thru, this is open to everyone including ace/aro peeps 🤗 got this idea from FairySagMother on yt <3)

☆ Piles start from top left with pile 1 ☆

YALL messages came throughh, I made a good choice buying this new oracle deck. ALSO the theme card of this reading is the waterfall card because it was in FIVE of the six piles 😭. The oracke deck is Herbiary by Maia Toll if you wanna buy it 😜. I definitely won't be super active in the next 6 months tbh because I'm incredibly stressed out and a lot is happening especially with my physical health, just a heads up...ALSO THANK YOU FOR 777 FOLLOWERS 😘 FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸

1. If you felt like people in the past were very selfish in relationships including your parents, this person is the opposite. They don't have you around just cause they want your attention, they genuinely care about your feelings and interests. You'll actually be able to connect with this person without feeling like things need to be transactional. If you feel you struggle with this concept especially if you have a low self esteem, working it out will bring this relationship in much faster. There's also no rush, no lovebombing and then ghosting, or trying to get you to commit quickly. This person seems very reassured within themselves and they expect you to not abruptly ghost/leave them without communicating why. I'm listening to Sociopathic Dance Queen and Feel Complete (by Pink Panthress); this person is the opposite of the antagonists in these songs. I hate being really woo woo but everything will happen as it should within this relationship. Your lives might be a mess but this relationship might be the only stable/secure thing when you get into it. I'm mostly getting romantic vibes but this could be platonic as well, although it will most likely start as a friendship and progress.

2. The cards were flying out so you either have a lot happening in your life rn and I'm getting for most of you, several healthy relationships will come in at the same time. If you're monogamous, you'll have several healthy options to choose from; if not, get ready to be to busy. You'll at least have a really good friend. I'm getting that with all of these people you are able to be vulnerable and specifically you're able to share interests especially if they're niche. Many or most of these relationships will last for a long time even if you do walk away from them at some point. If you're spiritual or religious your either going to meet someone who challenges your religious beliefs, particularly those that are restrictive or oppressive. They are not an atheist, they could actually be in the same religion as you but the are more self-assured and self-sufficient. If you're someone who often relies on the universe or a higher power to do things for you or to make them come your way, this person is going to force you out of that mindset. I'm specifically getting this will happen because you don't want to lose them and you'll see this mindset isn't actually working for you. They let you know it's ok to chase sometimes, especially when it comes to your own personal goals. This is specifically coming from that longterm friend I was getting at the beginning. I'm not really getting romance still, so love might be on the backburner for awhile.

3. I'm strongly getting this is a healthy s€xua1 relationship. It's not even a situationship tbh; you could be learning from a dominatrix or shibari master or maybe you pay to have that experience one day. I'm getting this might sound outlandish for some of you but a few of you are from pile 2 and this might come randomly or you might decide to do it on a whim. This person is very attractive and they take their job or interest seriously. They genuinely want you to feel comfortable and enjoy yourself. Especially if you are a s£x worker, this is someone you go out of your way to see orrr it's a new romantic partner. The emphasis may still be on s€x especially if you do OF, they'll probably help out, but they actually still have a personality and you can get along with them. I'm specifically getting a femme woman, or someone just who's afab but not super masculine. They are very sweet and attentive during play and have good aftercare. If this person does something you don't like, they'll listen to you without complaint. Even if this is a man, they are genuinely experienced and not weirdly misogynistic or abusive in any way. Boundaries are realllyy important to this person. They're just really good at creating a safe space.

4. Money, Money, Money by ABBA came up; this person will most definitely take care of you financially even if they are just a friend. I'm actually getting for some you, your get to get someone from a species that almost extinct: a man who treats you and is perfectly fine with just being friends NO S£X OR NUN in return🤯 this might make you attracted romantically to this person but I'm getting they could actually be married (they could be gay or queer in some way too) or they're just not interested in your romantically/sexually and just want to be besties. If you have anyyy health issues including paying medical bills they will help you out without a second thought. Some of you might unfortunately be in a situation where you get very hurt, like a car accident or sum, and this person is the first to visit you. They view as someone self-sufficient and extremely independent so they never get scared that you'll start to rely on them or leech off of them. Both of your goals and morals align especially if you have alternative politics (not conservative but extreme left, marxism, socialism, anarchism, etc.) and you'll be able to talk and debate without feeling like your friendship will fall apart. If this is someone that is romantically attracted to your gender, I really don't think they'll entertain the idea of dating you and even dating in general until much later in your friendship.

5. Right off the bat your most probably going tobget married if not, you'll be roommates for a very long time. This could honestly be a QPP for few of you, the rest I'll think you'll have a family with this person if you're interested. Even if you know for sure you don't want to get married, you will treat this person as if they are your spouse. You might've felt drained at the idea of a family or maybe yours and other ppl's was very chaotic to be in, but you'll genuinely feel like you can do it with this person without it being a risk for getting retraumatized. You might travel a lot with this person or live in a very nature filled area. I'm not getting much so I guess you don't really need to know more and I'm really getting this will be a surprise anyway, even at each stage of the relationship, you never expected to feel so emotionally secure with someone else constantly on your mind.

6. You might be connected to pile 4 or drawn to it. This is someone very new, as in you've never met anyone like them before. They either have a very unique appearance they put effort in or they really surpsie you with how deep they're personality and thoughts are. I'm getting for a lot of you, you might think this person is probably just annoying middle-aged person (😭) specifically man but then your talk and you're like woahh I was not expecting that. Their voice might not fit they're appearance either; they could have an extremely deep voice but be average height in whichever country they're from or their voices are quite animated even though their appearance might make them look gloomly or uninteresting (damn you guys are flaming this person during your first impression of them 😭😭) They point out a lot of things you don't notice or just know random facts that are helpful. They could even be a polyglot and travel a lot. However, this person is very stable in they're life, they feel ok at they're job or have a very specific idea of what they want to do with their career. If you end up working together, they are much more helpful than you anticipated. I'm getting for a lot you they aren't nice or super polite but they are very kind and generous. Like they don't smile much but ask them a question and you'll get a succinct answer. (Ughh this is my type 😩) They're very real and I love people like this cause they are genuine in wanting to help you and you don't have to constantly decipher they're words especially in a corporate context. There will definitely be an age gap and possible height gap. They could be almost 10 yrs older than you but you somehow have a lot in common although they are definitely not immature. I don't think they dated a lot or they had one really long relationship that they got out of when they met you.

#pick a card #pick a pile #queer tarot #tarot #tarot reading #pac

388 notes · View notes

hobicakess · 2 months

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS | (one)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: warnings: no thoroughly edited, EW Ai , character death (nothing to cry about), black/plus sized coded reader, talks of murder, talks of torture, corporate evilness, violence, Mc reads hobi to filth, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), one maknae introduction, maknae helping cause chaos, cigarettes, Yoonie is an angry kitty this chapter, bratty mc, mc is kinda a bitch (a bad one at that), unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday) SMUT— nothing too crazy , choking, sub mc , missionary, mating press , man handling (yummy)

a/n: HEYYY omg this took me so long to write and it's just a little over 2k words... LMAO I suck i know, but we're getting there I pinkie promise. I really hope you all enjoy this and constructive criticism is welcome!!

TAGLIST: @sumzysworld @bbgniecyy @paramedicnerd004 @heartsbr0ken @grltwin @superbbananananana @secfir @darkuni63 @thisladysperspective @p34rluv @secfir @sarcastic-cookie @coffeedepressionsoup @ot7nem @italiekim @cynicalbitch666 @jalexd @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop

2 MONTHS BEFORE JACKS ESCAPE

Kim multimedia station.

The place of business was always busy and there was never not anything to be done, Endless reports and stories in need of being written, the podcast teams always chattering about the hottest topics.

KMMs was a journalist's dream — your dream.

You were a known face around the company both online and in person. A pretty foreigner who was damn good at her job and that made you favored by the late CEO Kim. You were always hand picked by him to attend press conferences in his favor. He treated you kindly, allowing you into a large world of business pulling strings to get you the best stories helping you— a once broke freshly graduated English major climbing up in the world of reporting.

It's only been three months since CEO Kim passed away and the company was changing fast. You were grateful that you weren't a part of the many that were fired and replaced by new faces and AI, and you were now noticing how low the viewers were on podcasts, social media and blogs.

KMM was dying out very slowly and that meant you might go away with it. You were dedicated to your work, and the company that helped you become the person you were today.

And you were willing to do anything to not be forgotten.

Sleeping was not on the agenda right now.

A quick double tap to a cell phone showed an awfully bright screen reading 4:40 am. You had been lying in your bed mind racing while staring at your wall for the past hour and a half.

Jack in the box.

Rolling out the tangled bedsheets and arms you pull on a large T-shirt that'd been discarded a long with the other items of clothing on the floor shuffling towards the desk in the corner of your room. Laptop already open from your previous research when you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your drawer before plunging deep into the web. Your mouse clicks every site as your pen moved furiously taking in all the information you can about said serial killer.

“On May 14th, 2018 Serial Killer Jack In The Box was finally caught after a murdering spree in Seoul. The killings of ordinary outgoing individuals taken with a quick swipe of a knife and a long torture method.”

"Before his kills Jack likes to taunt his victim. He ironically sends them a Jack in the box to let them know they're next. The next few days said victim lives in constant fear, looking over their shoulder, leading the mostly known outgoing victim to slowly isolate themselves from loved ones in fear of them being hurt, eventually this leads to insomnia and in some cases hallucinations and histera. Then Jack disappears for a while making them think they're finally okay and he's gone until he wasn't."

The scoff that left your lips echoed through the quiet room, breathing out the nicotine smoke from your Cancer stick.

So Jack was an antisocial loser and took out his lack of social skills on people who could.

"No one knows of Jack's real identity. Police have reported that the man has lived many lives and has owned many faces for the past 11 years. Reporters have tried their hardest for the past 4 years to get a one on one interview with the man but unfortunately he refuses to talk only resorting to violence."

A reporter says he went for a handshake and left with two missing fingers.

Another says he watched the man bang his head on the wall hard enough to bleed when he asked the murderer's real name.

A broken arm??

“Fuck” you huff flicking the ash at the butt of your cigarette. You stare at the mugshot photos supplied at the end of the article. Dark wide eyes, shaggy black hair falling over his forehead, the piercings sticking from the bridge of his nose eyebrow and top lip.

The look definitely screams psycho but…. he was kinda hot. It took everything in you not to go and click the endless fanfiction that you stumbled upon.

A pair of warm lips press onto your shoulder causing you to jump. Turning to look over your shoulder at the shirtless sight of Kim Namjoon.

“We have to be up in four hours, baby, come back to bed.”

You hum into his embrace with a pout stubbing out the cigarette into the pink ashtray beside your computer. “Did you know Jack went through eight lawyers? Until one day he randomly called Kim Seokjin. That high profile guy from the law firm we're partnered with? they must know each other”

Though Namjoons attention was not on the words that were leaving your mouth. Hands wander all over your body while placing kisses on your neck, and cheeks.

“He literally bit the finger of the last reporter clean off. Like do you know how much force you have to put into that? I think he reads too much gothic liter—”

Cutting you off with a quick grab of your jaw turning your head to connect his plump lips to own. Pulling away with a cheeky dimpled smirk, “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about another man.”

“Well you shouldn't feel any type of way because you aren't MY man.”

You squeal when you're lifted up from your chair and throw over a broad shoulder. He huffs when he throws you onto the memory foam comforter, your (his) shirt lifting up your thighs exposing your bare cunt. Immediately his big body was hovering over you as he slightly pressed his body weight onto you.

“Get off you dick” pushing and smacking his tan shoulders but that did nothing for you at this moment. “Well I'm trying to put it in you.”

He bullies your legs up over his shoulders as he taps his hard piece against the wetness between your thighs. “If something happens to me during this case I swear” choking on your words as he slowly but surely presses his thick head into your cunt.

“Fuck — may the man himself strike me down.”

Hand reaching to grip your throat smashing your lips together. Luckily your mind left the thoughts of the serial killer , the only thing on your mind right now was Namjoon and his ridiculously large cockm

It wasn't weird for you to obsess over your assignments to the point where it was all you thought about. Everyone does that.

Though this one you couldn't seem to finesse your way out of. Without the help of the late Kim you'd have to pull your own strings to get what you wanted and now that Namjoon was in charge he loved making your life harder.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up from your laptop hand stalling from moving on your notepad face to face with gorgeously pale Detective Min Yoongi.

“Yoonie” you smile, motioning for him to sit in front of you. He looked different from when you last saw him all the months ago, more tired and cat- like you guessed it was from the heavy responsibilities that came with the position as Chief of Seouls police department

“Did you just call to look at me?”

“Sorry it's just been . . a while” you push the large Iced Americano towards him as a peace offering. He gladly accepted it with an amused raise of an eyebrow, “You know I just wait for your call.”

“The phone works both ways” you internally wince , you sounded like an estranged father talking to his child.

“What do you want?” A frown spread across your face and lips, shutting your laptop. “I can't call an old friend for a friendly coffee date.”

You waited for his answer as he took his time generously drinking from his plastic cup. With a smack of his lips he sat the cup down leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You only call me ‘Yoonie’ when you want something” eyes scanning over the scatter of papers and notes taking up your side of the table.

“This must be serious”

Hands going to clasp under your chin you sigh, cutting the bullshit. “Three years ago you were the lead investigator on the Jack in the box case which brought you from rookie detective to Chief of police.”

“I was wondering if you could help old friend out tell me what you know about-”

“No.” He cuts you off with little to no thought.

“No? Why not? This isn't our first rodeo Min”

There were plenty of times Yoongi helped you with stories without a second thought. He'd give you case files, witnesses, and anything you needed but why not now?

“Anybody but him”

You scoffed at him, irritation rising in your body. “I need this story not anyone else.”

“Well I can't help you, princess.”

“That's bullshit!” Your voice raises causing a couple people around you to turn their attention towards the two of you. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, slamming a few dollars on the table. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Turning on his heel he leaves you sitting there in your slowly growing rage. You quickly hopped from your seat chasing after him, managing to catch up with his long strides. “Yoongi slow down dammit”

He twirls around grabbing onto you by your arm, “Who gave you this story.

“Namjoon he-” you whine as his grip tightens on your arm as his eyes slit. The angry red scar on his face makes his angry stare look even more intimidating. “You don't understand how dangerous Jack is. Just because he's behind bars doesn't mean he won't have people on the outside that will whack you for being a nosy reporter.”

He softens his hold, lifting his hand to rub your cold cheek. “If something happens to you. . .” He shakes his head letting you go.

“Sit this one out Y/N I don't want to see you in our precinct mortuary.” with that he walks away disappearing into the crowd.

You sniff doing the walk of shame back to the Café sitting back in your seat with your head in your hands

Detective Min Yoongi.

“Excuse me Ma’am” the blonde barista came over holding a box of blueberry doughnuts which happened to be your favorite. “It's on the house.. everyone saw your fight with your boyfriend, manager said this might help cheer you up.”

“Oh! Thank you but he wasn't my boyfriend, just a work colleague.” You tried to defend yourself but the sympathy in his eyes only grew so you accepted the treat with another thank you. “What is your name? I've never seen you here before.”

A soft brightens his pretty face, eyes scrunching slightly adding to the prettiness of his face. “Park Jimin, Ma’am.”

MEANWHILE

The buzz of the electrically wired door opening didn't alert the man that stayed deep in the corner of his cell. “Long time no see.”

“Why now?” the visitor asks, “After all this time you choose now.”

He giggled, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls. “Did you bring what I asked for”

The visitor threw the pictures and the box of cigarettes into the cell. “Answer my question.”

“It's been three longgg years.” He finally answered, moving from his corner to pick up the photos. “Tell me is she this gorgeous in person?”

“Just for her?”

“And I need to stretch my legs” he laughs louder this time the high pitched sound echoed even through the thick steel door that kept him locked in tight.

Jack was ready to play more games

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

381 notes · View notes

breadnauppercrust · 1 year

Text

some designs i came up with for the girls in miraculous. the idea was 'what if they could have multiple outfits like sailor moon, as told by ginger, or totally spies?' and 'what if their clothes reflected their story arc?' however, i kind of gave up on them because i no longer have time to work on it as much as i would like to, so below this are copy+paste from my wip instagram account. lowkey its fanfiction-y lol

Alya:

Alya redesigns! tbh don’t know if they’re cohesive but 🤷‍♀️

S1: dresses for comfort & is geeky - think DrWho/Marvel/Tumblr. Obsessed w superheroes & has dedicated blog for each one, & that includes LB. Beginning of her & Maris friendship, starts to dates nino halfway s1.

S2: Mari influences her way of dress, still geeky but experimenting w clothes. Ladyblog becomes popular, interested in finding out her secret ID. Is also investigating akumas, HM, The Who/what/where/whys. Lowkey figures out who ladybug is but doesn’t say anything. Has been given fox miraculous at least a couple times.

S3: notices changes in Maris behavior & confronts her. Becomes fox miraculous holder full time, helps LB figure out who HM is & shares all the info she’s found. CN lowkey pushed to the side, causing friction, bc wrapped up w finding out who HM is ig. Constantly wears a Fanny pack now for trixx. Goes w comfortable but stylish clothes (ig lol idk) also at this point is BFF w Mari

Chloe:

S1: wears preppy designer brands to impress mom, despite living in diff countries. Basic mean girl, her only friends being Sabrina and Adrien - whose a childhood friend & lowkey helped him attend school. Both know how it feels to “lose” a parent & Adrien has seen a softer side of her. Probably has a crush on him ig. Maris bully, jealous of her talents at sewing & making friends easily, & prob her knit tight family.

S2: still preppy but w 60/70s inspo. Given bee miraculous a couple times, has resisted akumas - info she uses to help others later. Helping ppl & being somewhat nice makes her feel good & likes the appreciation from others+LB. Maybe Mom moves back to Paris w half sister, Zoe - might be significantly younger than Chloe idk. Didn’t like her at first but warms up to her as season goes on. Sees lil sister copying her & their mom, has an epiphany ig. Connects dots on akumas & feelings & tries to be better.

Should Zoe exist tho??? idk

S3: preppy but more casual. She’s nicer but still sarcastic, has made a few new friends, treating Sabrina better. Still trying to get moms approval tho & follows her around, even to fashion things w the Agreste. Notices Gabriel is acting strange, more distant towards Adrien, doesn’t notice what he’s doing or where he’s going. pt queen bee ig, probably given towards the very end of the season tbh by Adrien/CN after being ignored by LB bc of RR involvement w finding out HM id. AND noticing Chloe change significantly in the past several months (?) does Adrien reveal to her IDK he is still loyal to LB but eH

Mari:

1st Mari is shy, her outfits are safe & she kind of disappears in a crowd. She just became 🐞 & isn’t 💯 with her role yet. She’s designed and made her own clothes but doesn’t wear them outside of the house bc Chloe, oof

2nd she’s now comfortable being 🐞 & that boosts her confidence as Mari, she’s wearing more bold colors & outfits that she may or may not have designed herself 👀

3rd 🐞 is now the guardian of the miraculous box, has bigger responsibilities & problems to deal with. Being 🐞 has creeped into her daily life. Doesn’t have time to design/make clothes so wears w/e, but tries to appear happy.

Kagami:

i like the idea of kagami being prim and proper looking all preppy at the beginning, but after making friends she starts to rebel by modifying her school clothes w accessories but eventually wears w/e she wants w a punkish vibe. lowkey worried about falling into a trope so idk

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #kagami tsurugi #alya cesaire

667 notes · View notes

badasmuse · 6 months

Text

“Shipoopi”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: language, lowercase intended, pretty cute tbh

Summary: after countless failed dates, bada finds herself with a good one. she’s never been so shocked-

Based off the song “Shipoopi” from The Music Man

“bada where are you going all dressed up?” lusher says after i ran down the stairs.

“on a date. i gotta go or else i’ll be late.” i said slipping on my shoes and grabbing my keys. “don’t wait up love you lush!” i ran to my car and pull off without a thought.

my palms are sweaty and i have no clue why. this isn’t my first time. in fact, i’ve been on approximately seven dates in the past two months. they never last. most of them just want a quick fuck which is something i’m preparing myself for.

i pull up to the restaurant and get out paying for valet because i am in fact too lazy to park my own car. anyways, i turn my head at the sound of my name.

“bada right? i’m y/n.” she smiles at me. shes fucking gorgeous.

“h-hi.” i stutter then facepalm because no way i just stuttered in front of the beautiful woman.

she giggles and hooks her arm in mine. “let’s go.” she guides me into the restaurant and to the table after giving my name to the hostess.

we talked a lot to each other and i swear i’m in love. she hasn’t touched her phone once, she’s been staring me in the eyes the whole time i spoke. man i hope this doesn’t take a turn for the worst.

after it was over, i walked her to her car. “so what next? am i going back to your place or would you like to come to mine?”

y/n laughs, “bada, sweetheart, i don’t know what kind of girls you’ve fucked with before but i don’t put out on the first date. but let’s go on another date soon. i enjoyed this.”

i blinked a few times. surprise and relief filling me. “y-yeah of course.. i’ll text you.” here i go stuttering again.

she waves bye and pulls off. i like her.

the second date was just as good, if not better, than the first one. i’ve never been on more than one date with the same person. we went to an arcade and got ice cream. it was the sweetest date i’ve ever been on. no pun intended.

afterwards we go to her car and she smiles at me, “hope you don’t mind me asking for a third date.” she says, giggling. “i’m having a lot of fun with you.”

i nod, “i am too. i’d love a third date. i’ll call you. bye y/n.”

she waves and pulls off.

three, four, seven dates pass and we still haven’t done a thing besides hold hands and hug. i’m not complaining, it’s very refreshing.

“and like she hasn’t even kissed me yet. i haven’t kissed her either, not even on the cheek. it’s not like she’s hard to get but she is and i’m not complaining but i’ve never done this and i’m so glad i found her. it feels good.” i rant laying my head on lusher’s lap.

“oh shit, she’s your shipoopi!” she says.

i sit up fast, “bitch my what??”

“shipoopi! the girl that’s hard to get but you get her, and you basically have her. you’re glad you found her. she’s your shipoopi! you should ask her out. she’ll probably say yes!”

i sigh and look at my watch, “oh shit i’m meeting her in fifteen minutes. gotta go bye lush!” i grab my keys, slide on my shoes, and drive to the cafe down the road.

she’s your shipoopi! you should ask her out.

lusher’s words replay in my head. maybe i’ll ask her out…

she walks in, looking gorgeous as ever. “my bada!” she says sitting across from me.

my heart flutters when she calls me her bada. “hi y/n.”

“what’s wrong? your vibe is off.” she cocks her head to the side.

i open my mouth then close it. should i ask?

“bada, talk to-“

“will you be my girlfriend?” i blurt out, cutting her off, then covering my mouth.

“i am so sorry. oh my gosh i did not mean to cut you off. it’s the nerves. my hands are so sweaty right now. oh you did not need to know that.” i sigh and look down at my shoes.

i hear her giggle which causes me to look up. “yes bada i’ll be your girlfriend.” she says.

“really?”

“yes really.” she stands up and leans over kissing me on my lips. “i hope that was okay.” she says after she pulls back.

my mind blanks. i just stare at her. my heart is beating fast and i’m frozen.

“uh oh i broke her.” y/n giggles yet again before she lays her hands in my face gently. “get out your mind sweetheart.”

“s-sorry.” i stutter. man can i not? “um… wanna go see a movie?”

she nods, “yes, but, let’s watch at your place.”

“really?”

“we’ve been on enough dates. i trust you now. come on.” she walks with me to my car. “my brother dropped me off, you don’t mind me being your passenger princess do you?”

“absolutely not. i didn’t think you’d say yes to me..” i say honestly after opening the door for her and sliding in the drivers seat.

“i may seem hard to get but honestly bada you had me after the second date. you could’ve asked then and i would’ve said yes.”

“really? i guess i should’ve then huh?” i pause and think, “my best friend, and roommate, said you’re my… shipoopi. i’m not sure what that really means. i mean she explained it but i’m lost.”

she laughs and covers her mouth. “you mind if i see your phone?”

i hand it to her unlocked and she scrolls for a minute before typing and a song starts to play.

i listen to the lyrics carefully and laugh, “OH this is what she meant.”

“she’s 100% correct.” she giggles holding my hand that’s on the middle console.

i guess she’s my shipoopi… i hate that word bro what the fuck.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #kpop #swf2 #swf2 x reader #imagine #dancer #spotify #oneshot

299 notes · View notes

rzyraffek · 8 months

Note

hey I hope this doesn’t sound like a weird request but could u like slashers (preferably Michael Myers, Jason, maybe Billy loomis or Stu?, and the Sinclair brothers) kidnapping “adopting” reader? Like them kind yknow unaliving (Child) readers family then like having to like care for reader???? Idk if it makes sense but it came to me in a dream about me being a kid and Michael myers becoming my dad 😭

ALSO ITS COMPLETELY PLATONIC OBVS ‼️‼️‼️

IM SORRY FOR 2WEEK BREAK I HAD TO!!

This request is such a cute idea!!! I made so much content about perent!slasher and kid!y/n cuz its way more entertaining for me to write!! Authors note at the end!

They/them, sfw, Request open

Slashers trying to be decent dad figures

Jason Voorhees

First of all, why on earth would your perent take you all the way here??? Your a smal baby and this is dangerous! Not only cuz jason is here, but wolfs? Boars? Huge forest AND lake???

So basically he didnt expect a child here

When he was in one of cabins he heard crying from bathroom, after few seconds of planing a murder he realised that is a child crying

His heart skipped a beat and he kinda begun to panic. HUH??? A CHILD? EEE eee oh god the whole backyard is covered in blood... oh no did I scare them?? Oh no

Dude gets more spooked than a child

After they got along he kinda makes them live in his cabin, he spends good portion of time just hanging around

Y/n gets used to their new mute friend and learns their own ways to understand him

Dude is that type of dad who will let y/n paint his nails and he will dress up in cute outfits just to make his kid happy

100% checks under their bed for monsters (and closet too!)

Wants to teach them all about nature! Which plants are good, how to find animals to eat, how to avoid humans

He dodges the topic of slaughtering y/n perents... where are they?? Ermmm idk didnt see them

Micheal Myers

Dude is pretty passive when it comes to kids

He exists, they exists, but as far as kids don't bother him, he won't bother them

But oh lourd..... your his little girl/boi/kid and he is going to do everything to keep it that way

He sees it differently than others, he helped you, took you away from those horrible people (no matter if y/n past perents were bad or good people) why would you want to leave? Or miss them?

But no matter how he feels, he is still Micheal, he won't be very cuddly or clingy. Then y/n needs comforting he will sit next to them, let them talk, tbh he is okay with them giving him some physical attention but he won't hug them back

Steals dolls, figurines, crayons for y/n

He never gets rid of his stalker nature, he is always there, watching, making sure there's noone in their way. Noone bothering or looking at y/n. He sometimes watches them sleep, just looking, he is the only monster in their closet

Huge fan of stickers btw

After good few months he takes off his mask when with y/n! He knows they accept him and love him! I mean his face is as emotionless as its owner but it still matters(at least now you know where he is staring at)

Billy and Stu

Dudes probably were like "eeeerr billy? That *instert y/n perents name* eee you didn't tell me they had a kid?" "the WHAT"

*stu giving y/n chocolates while billy panics in room next to it wondering wtf to do with y/n*

"We can't just keep it! Who is going to take care of it?"

They kept you btw, Billy will say that they did that only so you don't go and call police but they got really attached

Stu is the fun dad while Billy is the serious dad

"Hi baby we bought you happy meal" "child did you do your homework"

Billy rages over monopoli and stu cheats in uno

Sinclair brothers

"Lester who tf is in your truck?" "Eeee I found it?"

Vince lets y/n sleep in his bed when they have nightmares. He also really wants y/n to do arts like him😊

Lester just vibes, you like cars kid? Let's go on car trip! You like wildlife? I know where deers at!

Bo teaches y/n how to shoot while they are way too young to even hold a gun

Y/n will be extremely spoiled btw

None of them know how to cook full meal

Lester will call y/n buddy, pal, kiddo

Bo will call them child, goblin, spawn on satan, little princes(or a prince)

Vincent will see them as little creature and a baby

Vincent let's y/n play and decorate his hair, they also make wax figurines together and play with dog. He is more like older shy brother than a father figure but if you want you can work with this

Bo lets y/n sleep on him and draw on his arms, he also hopes y/n never grows up cuz they are tiny and cute. He also sometimes gives them his hat

Lester loves showing of his skull collection and driving around forest, just talking. He also enjoys lisening to y/n monologues while he is working

All of them get little heart attack when they hear y/n swear. All bets on Bo accidentally saying bad word next to y/n and them just repeating it

Bo and lester love to just put you on their shoulder! And vince just pickes y/n up like sack of potatos (but gently)

Tickle fights with Vince

Arm wrestling with Lester who pretends that y/n is too strong and lets them win

All x reader tags are here only to reach bigger audience! Im sorry if there's any misstypes or anything weird! I kinda wrote it in rush cuz I feel bad for making yall wait for requests so long! I should make this hc list longer but I am very tired. Goodnight

368 notes · View notes

whimsical-roasting · 11 months

Text

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?”

thinking about random moments shared in the jamie tartt x psych major!reader fic i have in my head... just cute shit tbh

okay so the reader has been with the Richmond club for a solid few months, she’s a familiar face and friendly to the team but not super close with everybody, minus Colin and surprisingly,,, Jamie hehe

the team seems to be having a serious tie-streak going on, and they’re all kinda bummed by it

Ted’s obviously still Ted, unwavering winners mindset that basically means ‘do your best, give yourself a pat, shake it off, and repeat’ - with the addition of a smile ofc!

the reader has been doing readings for her org psych class and knows that raising group morale is necessary but also so so hard.

sometimes motivational speeches just don’t cut it yknow?? sometimes you gotta think outside of the box to fix the vibes and spread positivity

so there she is, standing in the coach’s office with a bluetooth speaker in her hand, nervously waiting for it to be her turn to speak

“Coach Ted,” she calls him in a manner that’s playful but still professional - he’s insisted on just Ted in the past and she’s complied but for serious conversations, she enjoys leading with a ‘subtle sense of professionalism’

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?” she asks, fiddling with the speaker in her hand

“Well darlin, I love a good flash mob. Gosh, those folks must keep in touch, right?” He directs his eyes to Beard, who peaks over his book and replies affirmingly, “a bond has been formed,” causing both you and Ted to smile

“Well, less flash mob but more like... a bi-weekly dance break?” she continues as Ted’s eyes land on her again. “I know the boys are bummed with the tie-streak and I was reading in my org psych textbook about the importance of autonomy in decorating our workspaces, and how group morale helps cohesion which’ll lead to better attitudes and hopefully better performance - not that our performance has been poor, it’s been great, I’m proud of the boys really! But, it sucks to see them bummed out...So maybe a twice-a-week-song-dance-break will lift spirits??”

she’s rambling. she’s nervous!! it’s a good idea tbh but still, sharing means being vulnerable and the potential of getting rejected

Ted politely waits for her to finish, nodding along and then grins, “sounds wonderful darlin! Hey, maybe you can get the boys to give some song suggestions to help with the whole autonomy thing you mentioned.”

she’s happy !! grinning as she steps out to the locker room, dragging out the whiteboard from the corner and scribbling in a lil corner of it

Jamie’s eyes follow her silently. truth be told, they followed her when she entered and disappeared into the coach’s office. but he smiles a lil seeing her grin at herself

when she’s done with the whiteboard, she calls for attention and lets the boys know to write down their suggestions, and she’ll choose two songs for the week randomly!! she emphasizes nervously that it should help according to her textbooks and Jamie is silently nodding, eyes drifting to her hands as she fiddles with the whiteboard marker

Dani is the first to speak, “pardon me, can it be Spanish songs too?” and she smiles really big, “anything you like!!”

Isaac adds, “yea bruv, I fuck wit Bad Bunny” and there’s a wave of approving noises from the rest

SO, the plan has been implemented, and it’s frickin working!!!

the boys always look forward to whose song is chosen - lots of rap, some taylor swift, Work Hard Play Hard makes them go nuts, some musical songs from Colin but it’s okay cause the lads are hyped over Hamilton

Ted gets into it!! dancing!! Dani and Jan Maas share an imaginary mic!! it’s great, but Jamie’s favourite part is seeing her join them in the locker rooms for every dance break grooving to the music

one day SHE chooses the song... “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer cause the team seemed extra tired and bummed

everyone’s like ??? who chose this?? she’s like ‘me. I did.’

she’s trying to break the tension, so she takes her imaginary mic and goes to Ted, then Colin, then Sam, and soon everyone’s into it - just happily singing and dancing

she somehow ends up next to Jamie, shoulders bumping. she’s swaying as she faces him, playfully mouthing the lyrics to him as he smiles with a slight blush (not that she notices cause she’s blushing too)

they’re both dancing close to each other, and she lightly pokes his chin when the song goes, “you gotta keep your head up”, reaching up to pull down his headband at, “and you can let your hair down,” grinning at him when he’s like ‘hey!! :o... >:)’

the song ends, and they’re still laughing at each other, holding hands...a bit longer than they should tbh hehehe. Jamie loves her energy and kindness, it matches his goofiness and makes him wanna be a better person

but anyways!!! they pull away, hoping no one notices.. some do but don’t say anything

#jamie tartt x psych major!reader #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt

253 notes · View notes

wooahaes · 5 months

Text

comforted and cared for

pairing: non-idol!97z x gn!reader

genre: comfort fic.

word count: 1.1k~

warnings: reader and hao experiencing homesickness. food mentions (left vague). reader is a foreigner, but its not specified where they're from.

daisy's notes: tbh these three have home-y vibes...... but also so do a lot of the others i write for skdfhfsd

Out of the three close friends you had, you were probably the most thankful that you and Minghao’s worlds collided the way they did. Seokmin and Mingyu would simply never fully understand how the two of you felt around this time of year, and it was that feeling that brought you to his apartment this winter. Seokmin had spotted you on his way out, and he’d merely waved before saying he’d talk to you once he got back from running errands. Which just left you sitting alone as Minghao moved around his kitchen, making two cups of tea for the two of you as you spilled your woes. Both of you were foreigners, plain and simple, and major holidays always made you the most homesick.

Eventually he settled into the chair across from you, a glum look on his face as he nodded along. “I understand.”

“I just… I miss my family.” You let out a sigh, resting your head in one hand. “And I can’t do anything about it right now. I’m saving up to fly out to see them, and it just… It sucks, Hao.”

Minghao nodded along, gaze not set on you. “I’m going to see mine in a few months,” he said, “but it’s still hard knowing that and waiting it out.”

“Right?” You looked up from the table. “That’s, like, the hardest part of knowing you get to see them—and then you know you have to leave again…”

“I like being here,” he said, voice soft. “I love being here. But…”

“But it’s still hard,” you nodded along. “Sometimes I get caught up in thinking ‘what if something happens?’ and it keeps me up sometimes. Like… What if something happens to my grandparents? Or what if something happens to my dad, and I’m not there in time?”

Minghao reached across the table, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “It’s scary,” he affirmed with a slow nod, “but you shouldn’t dwell on it. If something happens, we’ll help you as much as we can. You’d do the same for us.”

You felt a pleasant warmth rise in your chest at that, this overwhelming thankfulness that you had friends who cared about you enough to give you a little mood boost. “Thanks, Hao.” With a sigh, you straightened up. “Sorry for unloading all of that on you. I mean—”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve been feeling the same way lately. Seokmin and I talked about it a few days ago, and—”

The door chimed as it was unlocked, and both of you dropped your conversation while turning to see Seokmin coming into the apartment. He was carrying a few reusable bags of groceries, and Mingyu stepped in after him with even more. You looked at Minghao, who only glanced at you with the same baffled expression on his face, and it was enough to quell your fears that you’d forgotten dinner plans with them.

“We’re home!” Seokmin called out, shuffling out of his shoes without setting down the bags.

Minghao eyed the bags suspiciously. “When did you get Mingyu?”

“We’re making dinner tonight,” Mingyu said, already on his way to the kitchen. Clumsy as he was, he managed to shuffle out of his own tennis shoes with relative ease.

Again, the two of you shared a confused look. Minghao spoke up, “We didn’t plan for—”

“Mingyu and I did,” Seokmin waved him off. “He did most of the shopping, I just had to pick him up.”

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, setting down bags to unload. “.... What’s for dinner?”

The moment he started listing off dishes, you and Minghao shared another look. Every single thing he mentioned was something that either you or Minghao grew up eating and had mentioned in the past or shared pictures of at some point. Or, rather, you had mentioned in the past—Minghao talked, but not nearly as much as you did.

“I had to reach out to Jun for help,” Seokmin casually said as he was pulling on an apron, “since Hao talked to him more than he talked to us, and he was able to give me some of the recipes that he knew—”

“What is this about?” Minghao spoke up.

Mingyu looked over. “Hm? We’re just making dinner—”

Seokmin waved him off for a moment. “You’re both homesick, and it was Mingyu’s idea to cook since they,” he nodded toward you, “said food helps sometimes.”

It all clicked. “Oh my god,” you said. “That’s why you kept asking about food I ate at home.”

“I remembered most of them,” Mingyu pointed out, “I just needed some of the names—”

“You bitch,” you said, already beginning to tear up. “Oh my god, Gyu.”

He’d merely laughed. “I love you, too.”

Minghao looked at you for a moment, chuckling softly to himself. He stood up, “Well…” And you watched as Minghao made his way to the kitchen. “If you’re going to make this, then let me show you the proper way.”

“I think we can handle it,” Seokmin looked up from where he was getting out a cutting board. “You don’t have to—”

Minghao turned to you. “They’re going to butcher it if you don’t help them.”

With a smile, you caught onto what he was saying, and got up to follow suit. “Right,” you said. “Let me teach you guys how to do it.”

Behind your backs, Mingyu and Seokmin shared a look before the realization hit them as well. While he was tying your apron, Minghao had already begun to launch into a story about one of the dishes that they had listed off, talking about the time he’d made it with one of his grandparents years ago. You stepped into the space next to Mingyu, who had brought up the list of dishes (neatly sorted into two lists under your name alongside Minghao’s), and you picked one out to start with. You wrapped an arm around him, giving him a soft squeeze as you thanked him—quiet enough to not interrupt Minghao’s story—only for Mingyu to pull you close and press a kiss onto the side of your head. Seokmin would do the same later, too, clearly proud that this night was ultimately a success.

Homesickness would always hit you hard whenever major holidays came up (there was a reason why Seokmin insisted on taking you and Minghao home for chuseok this year). But now that you were standing in the kitchen, trading stories about the food you were creating, you felt a little more at home with them. Mingyu and Seokmin might not fully understand the way you and Minghao felt, but you’d always be thankful that they went out of their way to do this for the two of you.

This, you decided as you listened to Mingyu crack a silly joke over something Minghao said to Seokmin, was home, too.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

#wooahaes.dec23 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seventeen fluff #minghao fluff #mingyu fluff #seokmin fluff

86 notes · View notes

guardianspirits13 · 5 months

Text

Enjoying starting fights with people on Instagram who are being whiny about the pjo show casting, official Disney account just posted the character posters and the comments just did NOT pass the vibe check.

Tbh I've done a lot of introspection myself about my own unconscious biases in the past few months, enough that I'm able to see when other people's "I don't hate the actress I just wish she looked like she's described in the book" is an echo of "I struggle to relate to this character because she's not white like me anymore" and/or "I think her Blackness diminishes her character". I see that many of these people are feeling what minorities have felt for years, and are yet somehow failing to see the irony in that.

Characters are not "better" or "worse" because of their race- they may be different, but a change that adds context to an established story (growing up as a minority and dealing with racism) and a change that diminishes a story (historically underrepresented character being whitewashed) are two very different things.

Bit of a word dump, but these are some thoughts I've been meaning to get out for a while.

#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo adaptation #percy series #pjo disney+#pjo tv #leah sava jeffries #annabeth chase #unconscious bias

54 notes · View notes

starlostastronaut · 5 months

Text

DAY 06 | STORIES TO BE TOLD

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

GENRE: idol au (jisung is a soloist), not angst, but bittersweet?, ambiguous ending

WC: 1.14k

CW: idol trainee!reader, implied felix/reader

PROMPT: coming back after years apart

here it isss! to the person who asked for no angst... well guess what lol (pls dont kill me ilyy). i remember having a great idea for this when i wrote the masterlist so naturally i forgot it 😭 but i have this instead. tbh i think i spent more time on backstory than the actualy story but oh well. and yes, i did put felix/reader in the story, but you can read it as past relationship if you want ;) enjoy <3

title from laughter lines - bastille

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

Jisung looked out of the window again. His head was bobbing to the rhythm of the song playing through his headphones, and he watched the landscapes and cities pass by as the train made its way back to Seoul. He looked at his phone to check the time again. Exactly three minutes went by since he last checked. With a frustrated groan, he sank into his seat. The train was too slow, and Jisung was starting to regret deciding to ride it in the first place. He was visiting some of his friends down in Busan while also filming a music video, and against his better judgment, he decided to take the train back. He hoped he would have lesser chances of getting recognized, since no one would expect an idol on a train of all places. So there he was, tormented to several hours on a train. Normally, he wouldn't really mind, though. He had his beanie, headphones, and mask on, looking unrecognizable even with his manager sitting opposite him. He had his peace and quiet. Normally, he would be happy to relax on the train, but not today. Today he was seeing you and that made him extremely restless and giddy with excitement.

You and Jisung went way back. You were trainees at the same company, which is how you met. Your first conversation was a fight over the last piece of cheesecake at the company café. Having agreed to share it, you began talking, and ever since then, you became inseparable. You and Jisung would wait for each other after vocal lessons, he would give you pointers on your rapping, and in return you helped him with the JYPE basic dance routine. You had this symbiotic relationship that worked really well between you. Until Jisung's debut date approached. He would spend more time in the studio, going over his performance over and over again. You saw him less and less. And then he debuted, and you haven't seen him at all for a month because the public immediately fell in love with him, and as the new sensation, he was pushed from one music show to another. But he promised you that when you debuted as well and the initial whirlwind of chaos calmed down, it would go back to how it was. Except none of you thought of the fact that just a few weeks before your group was set to debut, you had been kicked off. The company never gave you a good enough reason, just some talk about “not fitting the group's vibe and concept” . You took it hard - harder than anyone expected. With your dreams being crushed, you packed all your things and moved to Australia. Jisung would never find out if it weren’t for another trainee named Chris, who helped you sort everything out. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not that you didn't want to, but Jisung and his success was just another painful reminder of the fact that you failed, and you didn't need that at that time.

In Australia, your life has gone pretty well. You applied to college, got your first boyfriend - a very sweet guy named Felix - and slowly healed from your failure back in Korea. Meanwhile, Jisung was busy with his idol career. You watched him thrive via social media once the pain eased a little. You even bought some of the albums. Felix convinced you to get tickets for Jisung's concert last year, but you never told anyone you went there. You did it mostly for your boyfriend anyway, who, as it turned out, was Jisung's fan. He almost lost his mind when he found out you and Jisung used to be best friends. But despite all of that, you never tried to contact Jisung, not even when he was in Sydney for his first tour. You were too scared of his reaction. After alll, you ran away without a proper goodbye. And Jisung never made contact either anyway, so you took it as a sign of your friendship truly being over.

Which eventually brought Jisung here, three years after he spoke to you for the last time. While he was in Busan, Chris messaged him to tell him that you were visiting Seoul in the next few days. Jisung spent a lot of time thinking about why Chris told him that. At first, he felt bitter and jealous, because clearly you've kept in contact with Chris but not him. His second thought was that he had to message you because he hadn't seen you in forever. His third thought was fear, because if you hadn't tried to contact him all this time, why would you want to see him now? But after two phone calls with Chris, he somehow found the courage to ask for your number and send the first text. He did it right before he went to sleep, knowing that otherwise he would be checking his phone every five seconds.

You left him on read for almost the whole day, carefully weighing the pros and cons. Ultimately, you decided to agree to his offer, the longing to see your former best friend again winning over the fear. So there you were, sitting in a small café alone, the half-empty cup of coffee in front of you slowly going cold. You almost decided to give up when Jisung came stumbling through the door. Your breath hitched in your throat. He looked the same as he did back then, but older and more mature. His hair was different, too. He spotted you almost immediately, rushing to your table.

“Hi! Hi, sorry I'm late, I-” He stopped and looked at you properly. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you replied, smiling as you watched him sit down. He still had that nervous smile and the joyous spark in his eyes. You decided to break the tension by asking the most trivial, most hated question. But in your case, it only made sense. “How have you been?”

At first, it was awkward; both of you were unsure how to act with each other. But with every new topic, the conversation flowed more easily, until it felt like old times. You told him about Australia, about your time with Felix and about your life there. He told you stories from the tour, he told you about the people he's met and about his career. By the end of the afternoon, it was as if you had never left. You realized you missed this. You missed him. Suddenly, you didn't know how you managed to go three years without talking to him.

Jisung nervously checked his watch. “Look, I need to go in a moment, but I have the day off tomorrow?” he asked, gathering his things and taking out his wallet to pay the bill.

You smiled. “Yeah. I would like that.”

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung

49 notes · View notes

delulu-with-wandanat · 2 months

Note

ayo i have a request! platonic mob boss!natasha and single mother female reader! nat is a mob boss who is known to be heartless and merciless. reader is struggling financially and decides to take a loan from nat’s mob, which she can’t pay back. she’s taken by nat’s men and beaten, but then when nat sees reader out of place among the drug dealers and crackheads, she takes pity on reader, forgives her debt and protects her, as well as helping reader out financially. kinda like older sister protective vibes

THANK YOU I love all your writing!!

Alternative Proposition-

A/n: Awww thank you! I'm sorry this took a while, life finally catch up on me and I'm find myself writing less and less. I never actually dipped into mob au's beforee so, sorry if anything is out of place. I'm actually a little scared of posting this ngl- :')) I try to not give the daughter a name, only like a nickname so you can decide it for yourself. Anywayy, I hope you like it!!

Reader Description: She/her, single mother, mid 20s.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Platonic), Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (Romantic).

Warnings 18+: Mature themes, mentions of drugs, violence, crimes, (idk what else i need to put tbh), threat, use of guns.

Summary: Struggling to take care her 5 year old daughter, Y/n took out a loan from the mob to start a small business in hopes that it would resolve their financial struggles. But small businesses takes time to flourish, which Y/n doesn't have and ends up biting her in the ass... or did it?

PUNCH!

Right on the stomach. The man tugged her from behind so she would stand up straight.

TWACK!

Christ, her nose was probably broken now. Perhaps she should've known better than to follow her friend's advice.

"Fucking bankers..." Y/n said out of frustration. Her appeal to take out a loan was rejected once again. At this rate she might have to finally settle for just working double time and barely making ends meet for her and her daughter. Suddenly, she hears her neighbor next door arguing and smashing god knows what.

For fuck sakes, again?

Gun shots can be heard from out the window, a few minutes later a police sirens follow through. The neighbor above blasting music and making noises on what could only be... something.

Her heart ached as he mind raced to the 5 year old sleeping in her room. No, she deserves a better life, a better living condition, a better future. She has to find a way, there has to be. The front door flew open and her friend walked in with a dopey smile.

"You look like you could use a happy sniff!" Y/n only rolled her eyes at her friend.

"I'm way past that, and you know it. Besides, those things are bad for you." Y/n responded without even looking.

Her friend plopped down beside her on the couch with an exaggerate groan. "You've gotten so boring since she was born. We used to have so much fun, no?"

"Grown out of it," She looks at her friend. "So should you."

Kate then rested her head on Y/n's shoulder, looking over her notes. "Bank denied you again?" She said almost mockingly with a pout.

"It's so stupid. I just need some cash to start this business, I did the numbers and the market is huge! Yet, none of them are willing to even listen at all..."

Kate then repositions herself to rest her head on the arms of the sofa. "You're asking the wronggg people." She giggled. Clearly high on drugs.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know someone who could help you. Actually... I know someone who KNOWS someone. No questions asked, just gotta pay them back on time."

"No questions asked? Sorry, Kate, but that sounds really shady." Y/n is too tired to even listen to her.

"Give it a tryyyy. You're confident about your business?" Y/n nodded. "What's the worst that could happen?" Kate concluded. Perhaps she was right, that what it takes to start a successful business no? Take a risk-

TWACK!

Famous last words. She did in fact took out a pretty huge loan, and promised to pay once a month with interest. Very high interest. Even though Kate was right, they asked no question whatsoever, the risk was also extremely deadly-

SMACK!

-right on the jaw this time. "I was late, I'm sorry. Please I promise I will-"

TWACK!

"We've heard that excuse many times before." The man said with a thick Slavic accent. He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged it harshly so she would face her. "And when you take out a money that big, the boss doesn't play around."

TWACK!

"Please..." The poor woman pleaded. "I swear-"

"Swear on your life? That is what we will take." Instead of a punch, the platinum haired man pulled out a gun, Y/n felt her stomach dropped the moment he pointed the gun to her head.

"Wait, wait!"

"Hold." She heard the other man who was holding her from behind spoke. "We're needed elsewhere."

"Now??"

"Just put the rat back in her cell, we'll deal with her and the rest later."

The blonde man hesitated for a few second before putting away his gun. He bent his body to her eye level and spoke, "You are one lucky son of a bitch."

Y/n was put back in the filthy place. Among with all the other hostages they have taken and beaten. She grunts at every single move she makes, every part of her body was extremely sore with the amount of punching she had endured.

The warehouse was dark, there was only one source of light, it was now probably almost midnight, fuck she needs to get home. She asked Kate to babysit her daughter, which was probably not the best course of action as Kate was quite a heavy drug user. But fuck she didn't have anyone to go to.

Kate will take care of her right? Well, she was... She wasn't addicted, but- Oh fuck her mind is running a mile minute.

She doesn't know how long time has passed as all she could think about was her daughter. Her sweet little bug. "Be safe, please, please be safe."

Oh god, what if Kate uses drugs in front of her? Come on, Kate was the one helping Y/n throughout the pregnancy, she would be more mature than that. Then again drug addicts are selfish- No, Kate is not like that. Kate adores Y/n's daughter, even going as far as supporting this business so the little bug would have a better future.

But what if Kate-

Y/n perked up at the sound of a door opening. Heavy sets of footsteps could be heard walking in her direction. "Cut the crackheads fingers as a warning, that oughta teach them." Y/n shivers at the woman's command. "Their debt remains, any late payments will be paid by their hand."

"What about the dealer?" Her men asked.

"Kill him, he went against our terms and conditions. Make him suffer." Y/n heard a unanimous 'Understood.' This woman definitely held a high power among all of them.

"And Stark's men?" Another one of her soldier asked. There was a beat of silence as the woman weighted her decision.

"Send him our... parcel. He'll understand." Whatever it is, Y/n is sure it's not what is implied.

She heard a few cells opening, some of the hostages cried and plead for their life. "I have nothing to do with this!" The man screamed. "It was Mr. Stark's order-"

"Stark and I, despite our rivalry, have mutual respect with each other." The powerful boss spoke again. "Though I won't be surprised if the orders did in fact came from him."

"Please..." The hostage started crying. "Please, I- I have kids-"

"And a wife?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. At least there's someone to take care of them." Fuck this woman is a sadist.

The poor man continued to thrash and screamed, yet he was no match in his condition and the strength of his taker. His screaming gradually disappears as they take him god knows where. And finally, the woman came into view as she stood just outside of her cell.

Y/n had pushed herself into a corner, hugging herself, knowing she would be next. And from what she has heard, there was no way of convincing a woman who holds such power and fear. Reality dawned on her that she had failed her daughter, her sweet 5 year old bundle of joy.

I'm sorry, bug...

The red headed woman studied the hostage before her. Seems like her men had taken her after she had finished her shift, Y/n was still wearing her waitress uniform.

"It's the one that took out the big loan." Another woman with blonde hair told the boss. Y/n notes she has a thick Russian accent.

"And?"

"She claims the purpose was to start a food and beverage business. Late payments, but I doubt the business even took place. I haven't seen or heard any new establishment in the area." The blonde woman explained.

The boss narrows her eyes. Y/n refused to speak or even look at them in the eye. As the red headed women was about to decide her fate, they heard a phone ring. Y/n's head turned to the source of the ringtone, it was her phone. "Shut that phone." She told her men.

"No wait!" All eyes turned to Y/n as the hostage finally spoke for the first time. "Please, that's mine. It might have something to do with my daughter..."

The goons gave the boss Y/n's phone. The woman looked at the caller id, "Kate."

"That's my friend, she's babysitting her. I just need to know if she's alright." The blonde and red haired woman shared a look, they've seen this before. Last act of desperation to seek help.

Finally, the boss bent down to her level beckoning Y/n to get closer from her position. Y/n hesitantly crawled closer so she was able to speak to the phone. Before the boss answered the phone, she looked at Y/n dead in the eye. "Any attempts, I will track this caller id. Understood?"

The boss didn't have to elaborate further, Y/n nodded while shivering in fear. The woman then accepted the call, and put it on speaker. "Mama??" A little girl's voice could be heard.

"Hey there, bug!" Y/n responded with fake enthusiasm. It was very convincing, even an adult wouldn't notice anything. "What are you doing up so late huh?"

"I'm waiting for you! You promised me movie night." The little girl said sadly.

"Awww, I know bug. Something came up at work, and I needed to work extra hours. But how about this, I'll make it up to you and we'll go somewhere special on your birthday, how does that sound?" Y/n spoke, her heart aching as she was making fake promises to her daughter. After all, the mob would most likely take her life.

"Yey!!! Aunty Kate, did you hear that?" It seems like the little girl was so happy at the idea. Y/n can imagine her daughter running to Kate in their tiny apartment excitedly to tell her the news. She then heard Kate responding as excitedly to the little girl. This is her chance.

No. She can't put her friend in danger. Even though that idiot gave her the stupid idea- No, I made the decision.

"Kate, it's already midnight. Can you make sure she sleeps please?"

"Aww, it's weekend! I'm sure she can stay up once a while with her aunty." Kate responded over the phone.

"I gotta go." Y/n said after noticing some of the goons growing impatient. "And Kate..."

There was a beat of silence, would she do it?

"Please remember to restraint yourself." Kate could be heard signing on the other side of the phone.

"You know I would never do that in front of bug. I promise, I'll take care of her. Just come home safe ok?" Kate understood Y/n's fear. And Kate knew better than to use drugs around children's proximity. In fact, she wasn't using the addictive substance as much as she used to... Only when she party that is-

"Of course. See you." The red haired woman then ended the call. She wasn't going to lie, she was quite impressed at this hostage. Perhaps this girl was something else...

Natasha came home way past midnight, it wasn't unusual for her of course. Though she does sometimes wishes to leave the crime life completely. Well, sometimes was an understatement, she wants to leave the crime life and focus on her own family. However, her sister was far from ready and there were numerous business she had to resolve first.

Then again, perhaps that was just an excuse. The cycle would never end. There's always something coming up, and she was the one the city held respect and fear for. By the end of the day, Natasha wasn't even sure if this life would leave her completely.

It was tied to her like an anchor.

She sighed and walked over to the master bedroom quitely. When she opens the door, she found her wife already fast asleep. She made her way to the bathroom, changed her clothes into something far more comfortable. She opted to skip her nighttime routine, and walked out of the bathroom.

Her wife had moved in her sleep, and it seems like she is awake. A small smile appeared on Natasha's face. "I didn't mean to wake you up." The mob boss said apologetically.

"The Americans would say, old habit dies hard." Wanda responded with a sleepy smile. Natasha soon joined her on the bed, giving her wife a loving kiss on her lips, and the slope of her nose. Despite being married for a couple of years, it warms Wanda's heart at Natasha's actions.

For someone who have gained the reputation of being merciless, she was so gentle on the people she loves.

"Everything alright, darling?" Wanda asked, she knew there was always something in this line of business. But really, what else was she supposed to ask?

"Same old, same old." Natasha answered as she settles on the bed next to her. Wanda then nuzzles onto Natasha like she always does every single night. "I'm getting too old for this."

Wanda chuckles, "Well, Yelena is next in line."

"Oh please, she her patience is as thin as a baby hair. She wouldn't last a 30 minute meeting." Natasha then starts to rub small circles on Wanda's back. "And you?"

"Just the usual, took the boys to school. They're already asking me if they could get their own car now that they're in middle school." Natasha let out a small chuckle.

"I hope they know they have save up their own money for that."

"I doubt it." The two women shared a laugh and fell into a comfortable silent. It was nights like these that Natasha adored. She may ruled the city, and had resources the average person can't imagine, but all she wanted was simple nights in the arms of the woman she loves.

Crazy to think how they met each other, all those years ago. When Natasha was only a second in command and Melina was ruling the mob, and Wanda was just a single mother trying to get by. Just like-

"Your thoughts are loud, detka." Wanda said, her wife truly knows her inside and out. "Care to share?"

Natasha lets out a sigh before continuing, "There was this girl, probably in her mid 20s." Wanda stayed silent, listening to her wife. "She reminds me of you..."

Wanda pulled away slowly to look at Natasha in the eye, "Natalia... If this is your way of asking us to open our marriage-"

"Excuse me, how did you even come to that conclusion?" God no, Natasha never even had that thought.

"Well when you start with that kind of sentence..." Natasha only rolled her eyes and pulled Wanda back into her arms.

"No, It's not that." She sighed, trying to find the right words. "I'm just..." She trails off once again. Wanda waited patiently for her wife to form her words, except Natasha ended up letting out a soft chuckle. "I think I'm just getting too old and too soft for this."

Wanda made herself more comfortable on Natasha's chest, listening to her heartbeat. Something she finds rather comforting. "You kept your heart. That is something I love the most about you." She shifted slightly so she could look at her wife in the eye. "But moreover I think that is something Melina would be so proud of..."

Natasha's heart warmed at Wanda's words. She pulled Wanda into a soft kiss, pouring the immense love she had for the woman before her. Natasha's hand gently cupped her wife's face, she held her ever so carefully as if Wanda was the most precious and delicate flower to ever exist.

Y/n waited, and waited.

She glanced at the clock, and then back to the front door. Still no one...

She heard a groan from Kate and looked at her friend/co-worker now. "Where are all the people..." She whined as she waited at one of the empty seats.

"It's ok. There's time like these, we just have to be patient." Y/n responded optimistically, even though deep inside she was screaming. The restaurant barely made enough to be self-sufficient. Despite it being small, and having herself as the staff with the occasional help of Kate, all of the profit had gone to running the business.

Moreover, she has to pay back the mob.

Fuck... "Kate, what day is it?"

Kate quickly checked her phone, "Friday. Why??"

Shit... shit, shit, shit. Her next payment was due tonight. She opened the register to check on the cash she had separated to make the payments. Y/n hastily re-counted the money and found that she was still $1000 short, "Fuck-"

"What's wrong?" Kate asked upon noticing her friend's frustration.

"Nothing..." Y/n sighed, no point in panicking now. She rubbed her temple and started giggling out of the immense frustration she was in. "Out of curiosity, is there a way to make $1000 in less than 6 hours?"

"We could always turn to crime."

"Few years ago I would've agreed, but I have a daughter to take care of." Calming herself down, she puts the money back and closed the cashier. "I need to pick up bug soon, you think you can manage on your own?"

"Don't underestimate me..." Y/n only gave Kate a look as she walks towards the cashier, "I will man the fort."

Y/n merely chuckles and took her bag, she gave Kate a quick hug. She has been such a great help, the definition of true friends lie on none other than Kate Bishop. "Thank you, I'll be quick!" Y/n said as she made her way out of the restaurant.

"-And I made a new friends!" The little one said as she held her mother's hand on the way to the shop.

"That's wonderful, bug!" Y/n responded as enthusiastically. Relief that her daughter was doing well on her first day of elementary school, not that she ever doubted her daughter's capability. In contrast to Y/n, her daughter was much more outgoing than she was when Y/n was younger.

"Maybe I can invite them to the restaurant!" Y/n chuckles at her statement.

"Well you know what? Tell them I will give their family a VIP service." The little bug scrunch up her nose in confusion, she look up to her mother.

"What's a VIP??" She asks, just before they entered the shop. Y/n bent down to her level with an adoring smile.

"VIP means, 'Very-Important-Person'. And because they're your friends. They're important, don't you think so?" The little girl nodded her head as her mother explained, "Meaning they'll get special treatments."

It was like a lightbulb switched on inside the little one's head. "Oh! I get it!!"

"My brightest star." Y/n said while ruffling her head, "Come on, let's head inside. Aunty Kate might need some back up."

The two entered the shop to find Kate talking to a customer. Oh thank god. Their back was facing Y/n, once Kate noticed Y/n she perked up. "Oh! Y/n, you're just in time. This is our owner, and the mastermind behind all these amazing dish!" Well, gotta give the enthusiasm to Kate.

The customer turned around and Y/n felt chills down her spine.

"So I see." The same powerful woman spoke. Y/n tensed up, but the little hand she was still holding kept her grounded. "Y/n, was it?"

"Y-yes." She cleared her throat. No, nononono, the payment was still in a few hours. Well, she was still short a $1000. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

The redhaired woman shifter her eyes downward to look at Y/n's daughter. "And who might you be?" She asked the little girl kindly. Was it genuine? Y/n doesn't even know.

"My mom and aunty calls me bug!" The girl said excitedly. "I like your hair."

The mob boss laughed, "Thank you! I like your little braid. Did your mother did that for you?" Oh well, she's surprisingly good with kids?? Such a stark contrast to the one Y/n met at the warehouse-

"Yeah!" The little girl giggled.

"I'm having trouble choosing something to eat. Since I have the owner and I'm assuming the chef, perhaps you could recommend me something?" The woman asked.

Y/n snapped back to reality, "U-uh, well... Our uhm the-" Speak, SPEAK, why am I so-

"Oh, oh!" Her daughter excitedly ran up to the dangerous boss, she went on her tiptoes to take the menu off the counter. "You should get this one! It's my favorite and my mom makes it the best."

"I will take your word for it." The woman said with a kind smile, she turns to Kate. "I'll take the recommendation from this little one. I'll sit in that corner."

"We'll be right with you, ma'am!" Kate said, obviously oblivious to who this woman is.

Fuck.

Y/n hand shook as she plated the food for the mafia boss, Kate noticed it and giggles. She clearly doesn't realize how bad the situation is.

"Hey relax, boss." She nudges her friend, Y/n only let out a nervous chuckle. "Alright, I'll take it from here." As Kate was about to take the plate to serve, Y/n stopped her.

"I got it, why don't you go stand by the cashier in case any more customers comes in." Thankfully for Y/n, Kate agreed and went back to her station. As much as she would like to avoid the mob boss at any cost, she doesn't want Kate to be involved further.

Y/n walks towards the table with food in hand, the woman was sitting by the corner looking out the window. Heart stammering in her chest as fear and anxiety tried to take over her body, what did this woman want?

"Your food, ma'am." Y/n sets the plate with shaky hands.

"Oh, thank you. It looks delicious." The redhead said turning to face Y/n with a smile. Just as Y/n was about to leave, the lady stopped her. "Hold on just a minute, I wouldn't mind the company of the owner herself. Take a seat." It sounded more like a demand than a request.

Y/n took a deep breath and sat across from her. The woman took a sip of her drink, still looking out the window. Maybe I should've poisoned her food or something-

"I believe I haven't introduced myself." The woman's voice took Y/n out of her trance. She looked up to see her staring back at her. "Natasha, pleasure to meet you under... better circumstances." Natasha offered her hand to shake.

Y/n reached out, hand still visibly shaking a little as she shook her hand. "Y/n, although I'm sure you knew that already."

Natasha only nod, she then picked up a fork and a knife and started eating her food. After the first bite, she lets out a soft laugh. "Your daughter wasn't lying when she said this was the best."

Y/n could only force a smile as multitude of things ran in her head. Was she here to execute her? Did she know that Y/n was still a few dollars short? Was this a genuine interest in her food or was she here for business?

"How's business so far?" There it is.

Y/n sighed and looked around at the empty restaurant. "We've had better days."

Natasha only raised an eyebrow as she continues eating her food. "So I see."

There was a few minutes of silence as Y/n waited for Natasha to speak further, however, it seems like the other woman was just simply enjoying her food.

"I have to say I am incredibly impressed with your cooking." She said as she wiped her lip with a napkin and set aside her cutleries.

"Thank you, I learned it from my mother."

Natasha nodded and fixed her posture as she set the plate to the side to rest her hand on the table. "I'm sure you know why I'm here. It's strictly business." Y/n took a deep breath, but before she could say anything Natasha cuts her off. "Although, seeing the state of your establishment, I'm assuming It's barely making anything to run itself."

"I- I promise you I can-" Y/n stammered.

"Oh don't make promises you can't keep, Y/n."

"This month's payment might be a lower but I swear it just takes-"

"I've thought so." Oh god, what has she gotten herself into. Her chest started to feel heavy, something felt like it was stuck on her throat. Y/n couldn't utter a single word. She was a dead woman...

"Which is why I would like to offer you an alternative proposition." Natasha as she leans back against the chair. Y/n who was still in the state of fear only looked at her. "I would like to turn your debts into an investment."

...I'm sorry, "W-what?"

"I would like to invest in your business instead, I see great potential. It should help lighten the burden." Whoa, what??

"I- What's the catch?" Natasha only laughs, not one of those evil laughs, just... laughed.

"I get 20% share of your profit, but to say that's a catch would be misleading as that is just the nature of investment."

Y/n thought for a moment, this wasn't so bad. No, actually it was great. Instead of having debts, she only need to pay Natasha a share of the profit that the restaurant made.

"That's... a very generous offer, Natasha. Thank you. Although, may I negotiate?" Natasha smirked slightly at the sentence and nodded, she liked this girl. Normally people would take the offer without any hesitation, so to have someone negotiates back was refreshing. "I think 20% is too high, how bout 10%?"

"Hmmm, that's too low for me. How about you and I meet in the middle, 15%?" Y/n nod and Natasha had a satisfied smile on her face. This time, it was Y/n who reached out her hand.

"We have a deal."

To say the mob boss was being generous was an understatement, but Y/n wasn't going to ask questions. It helped elevated the financial burden a little, as she did not have to pay a fixed price every month. If the business soars Natasha gets a good cut of the revenue, it it fails, well they fall together.

What's weird was Y/n had expected for there to be a catch, maybe even have Natasha suddenly barging in and run the business however she likes. Or making some sort of speakeasy underneath her restaurant, or anything crime related really. But she never did, in fact, Natasha became a regular at the restaurant. She comes by once or twice every week, one time she even comes with a lovely lady who Y/n quickly learned was her wife.

Natasha's wife, Wanda, was a truly lovely lady. Overtime, Wanda stops by more often on her own. Although truth to be told, Y/n had a feeling they adored her daughter the most as bug truly was the ray of sunshine in the restaurant.

Doorbell chimes through the restaurant, the little bug excitedly dings the bell on the cashier counter top informing the kitchen of an incoming order.

"Ms. Wanda's specials!" The little girl said loudly, causing Wanda to giggle slightly at the scene. Y/n comes out of the kitchen door to greet her as she was in the middle of cleaning up.

"Wanda, good to see you again! Your usual?"

Wanda smiled and nodded. "For me, as always. Another one of the same for my wife, and 2 dish of your recommendation for my boys please."

"Anything in particular?" Y/n asked.

Wanda hummed for a moment, before glancing at Y/n's daughter who's practically bouncing on her little feet to make the decision for her. She then smiles and said, "I'll let the little chef surprise me."

Bug beamed upon hearing her sentence, Y/n smiled at her daughter and gave her an encouraging nod. She pulled down her mother to her level and whispered her recommendation. Y/n then pulled away and playfully gave her a salute, "Right on it, chef!"

As Y/n was walking back to the kitchen she heard her daughter yelling, "And be quick, it's for our VIP!"

She was glad her daughter seems to make the restaurant her own little playground, most of the costumers adored her too whenever bug was around. She wishes that her daughter could go out more often and wasn't forced to be stuck in the restaurant as much as she is now.

As time goes by the restaurant started to gain more and more exposures around the neighborhood and Kate has been a big help through it all. Arguably it was good for her too, as she used her spare time to work instead of partying and doing drugs.

Many more months have passed, and their popularity continues to rise and rise to the point where Y/n NEEDED to hire a cook helper and a waitress. She was grateful to say the least, but she wonders if the mob boss had something to do with it.

Y/n noticed that she had seen one of the customers being the one that kidnapped her, she was terrified for a minute only for the same platinum haired man to apologize and leave her with a huge, and I mean HUGE tip. She found out that his name was Pietro and he was surprisingly a funny, cocky, yet quite the gentleman.

The other one was the blonde woman that stood next to Natasha. However, at that time she was rather busy in the kitchen so Kate was the one who interacted with her the most. She didn't learn much about the blonde woman, only that her name was Yelena and that Kate seems to have a big crush on her.

She starts to wonder if half of her customers were affiliated with Natasha's mob. There were times when Natasha came by with a group of people, was it for a business meeting or whatnot she doesn't know. She doesn't even want to know. One thing for sure, Y/n's perception of Natasha changed. The initial impression of Natasha being a cold, heartless, merciless woman was gone, it turns out Natasha has a heart of gold.

From spreading the word about her restaurant, to giving huge tips every time she eats, refusing on-the-house meals and paying more than what her bill stated. To even, at least to Y/n's assumption, keeping the area of her restaurant safe. It wasn't confirmed by any means, but Y/n had a gut feeling Natasha had something to do with it.

All in all, business was great and was making enough for her to profit from it as well. She can now take her daughter out occasionally and not having to worry about starving herself in process.

Today was rather slow than usual, thank god...

She probably shouldn't as a business owner, but damn girl needs a room to breathe sometimes. Calm before the storm they said, and Y/n was going to use it to her advantage and catch up on her book as she waits for the next customer.

A good few minutes into her book, the door bell rings. Y/n looks up and put on her smile at the customer. Kate called in sick today and their waitress was having a day off, so Y/n had to cover both for both. "Welcome! What can I do for you on this fine day?"

"Hi there." The woman with a black hair said with a kind smile. "I heard this was the new hotspot in town. What would you recommend me?"

"Well that depends, are we looking for somethings sweet or savory?"

"Hmmm...." The woman scanned the menu quickly. Finally she looked up and said, "I'm feeling adventurous, surprise me."

Y/n smiled, "Take a seat anywhere you like, I'll be right with you." The customer thanked her and sat by the corner. From the corner of her eye, she could she the woman seems to be observing the restaurant. It wasn't weird by any means, maybe she's just one of those food bloggers.

Nah, she's dressed so formal to be a food blogger. Oh, shit... is that a food critique? We'll let's impress her.

After a few minutes, Y/n goes to her table. "This is one of our favorites." She said as she set the plate on the table, "And this is a complimentary drink, it's on the house."

"That's very kind of you." The black haired woman said. "Say how long has this place been established?"

"Oh we've just opened a couple of months ago."

"The owner certainly has an exquisite design taste." Y/n smiled at the compliment.

"Thank you! It was highly inspired by my heritage." The woman raised her eyebrow.

"I take it you are the owner?" Y/n nodded. "Wow! Congratulations on your business! The food looks amazing, please, would you mind joining me? I would love to listen more to your stories."

"Certainly!" Y/n took a seat in front of her, she was used to this, sitting and talking to different customers. It helps build relationship and making them a regular. "Are you new around this area?"

The woman chuckles, "No, I know this city like the back of my hand. My name is Maria Hill, pleasure to meet you." Maria offered her hand to shake.

"Likewise, I'm Y/n." The two shook hands and Maria leaned back on her seat.

"I'm guessing you're not originally from here?"

"No, my family and I migrated to the US when I was younger." Maria hummed again as she stared Y/n down, honestly Y/n was feeling rather uncomfortable. It was like she was... observing her, maybe even assessing her?

One thing for sure, Y/n was starting to get really bad vibes.

Maria suddenly let's out a small laugh, "Perhaps I should be more frontal." She fixed her posture and leaned her elbows on the table. "I was going to ask you sooner or later."

Oh god, what is it? Am I getting deported??

"Are you aware of an individual named Natalia Alianovna Romanova?"

Y/n twisted her head in confusion. "No, that doesn't seem to ring a bell."

"What about Natasha Romanoff?" The woman continued to prod. Well, she only knows one Natasha, she's a-

"I'm sorry, I just-" Y/n was confused, "What is this all about? Are you a health inspector or an immigration officer because-"

Maria raised her hand to stop Y/n, "No, neither of those." Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I'm an FBI agent."

Oh...

"I've been investigating an organized crime for the past few years."

Oh, fuck.

"You're not in trouble, Y/n. I merely require your assistance."

This isn't fucking calm before the storm-

"So are you or are you not," Maria took out a picture, a photograph of Natasha walking out of HER restaurant. "acquainted with this individual."

This is calm before a fucking typhoon. And she is in the middle of it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x platonic!reader #black widow #natasha #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff mafia au #natasha x y/n #wanda maximoff #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wanda #wlw #natasha x wanda #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

33 notes · View notes