CASSIE.
@slayingslashers
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ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ * 𝘊𝘈𝘌𝘓𝘈𝘕 𝘞𝘠𝘒𝘌𝘚 . ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ dddne . lewd / non . ᅠ
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- flashed at her stalker practically sweltered with seduction; never mind the way she wiggled her perfectly round butt at him, knowing full well that he would be able to see her thong.
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"vodka's perfect." cassie snatched the credit card out of the bartender's hand and slyly returned it to vincent. "put it on vlad's tab, frank. you know he's good for it." she downed her shot, swallowed an ice cube, and made haste for the dance floor again. the look she -
over at the bar, vincent did his best to order something they had on the menu — every suggestion of a cocktail was met with a scoff of the bartender, who seemed to prefer serving coronas and room - temperature liquors in filthy glasses. defeated by the system, he finally >
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- slender body still jiving to the tempo. her mascara smudged and her hair stuck to her bare shoulders. a sudden flare-up of red and purple strobe lights caused her belly button ring to twinkle in the dimness. "hey!" she clapped her acquaintance-turned-stalker on the -
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- electronica. a fine sweat brought her pale skin to a shimmer and she flicked a glance over her shoulder, looking beyond the shitless man who had taken to dry-humping her in search of vincent. the song eventually changed and she edged away from her impromptu dance partner, -
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a seizure-inducing light show washed over the mosh pit of clubgoers, most of them college-aged and vibing to efficacious cocktails of drugs. cassie thrust her arms above her head and swung her ass in wide, rotating circles, eardrums throbbing to the beat of boorish -
the real miracle was vincent not knowing about the dark history of that place. he was almost oblivious to it even when the vibe had shifted enough for him to want to err on the side of caution. "hey, you want a — .ᐣ" 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬. another question he wasn't able to finish, >
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- wriggled and her breasts heaved all for the sake of the music, and in less time than it took one to blink or breathe, she faded into a crowd of big burly men and bleach-blonde women all bumping and grinding against one another.
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- despite its infamy the media — was still in business, what with the murders and subsequent police investigations that went absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. cassie shed her shirt and parted ways with her jeans, leaving her in that too-short skirt and too-snug crop top. her hips -
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"knifed, shanked, stabbed, gutted. you name it, it's probably happened at least once." not to mentioned bludgeoned with a baseball bat, strung up by their entrails, and skinned alive using nothing more than a nail file. it was a miracle this place — which didn't have a name -
"but not like the greatest rack of tits, let's call them perky and round but leaning into the small side. this is a small tits establishment." vincent wondered if she was listening to him, already shoving past him and going inside the club. he took a second to gather his >
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