#he keeps on dying bc of Killer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeonzzzn · 19 days

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wanna be the sequel: sim jaeyun

part two of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 11.6k

synopsis: you decide to keep jake’s secret of him being the mysterious ghost face killer, always taking up for him and playing dumb to the cases. but as jake’s love for you starts to overpower him and blurs his lines, his killer instinct reaches new heights.

genre: situationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane, blood & m*rder, reader has a dream of being k!lled, knife play, fingering, oral (m. rec), cum eating, multiple unprotective sex scenes, one public sex scene bc jake got jealous, reader gets fucked against a mirror, reader gets cut at some point, if I missed everything please let me know!

His smirk sent chills down your spine as he buried himself deep within you, one hand was on your neck and the other squeezed the plush of your thighs. His thrusts were rough and relentless, that evil smirk growing wider and wider as the clock ticked along.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he cooed, cock twitching against your walls, “Fucking you to death, it’s so hot.”

His hand left your thigh, and where it went, you had no idea. You just knew his thrusts were now sloppy and his cum was filling you whole.

“Hmmm, so pretty,” he cooed again, breathing hard after his release, an unbearable amount of pain now being felt at your side, “So pretty with how you bleed out for me.”

You looked to your left, seeing his knife pushed between your skin and your blood gushing onto the handle, his hand, and the floor.

You gasped for air, tears swelling your eyes as you looked up at him, begging for him to stop.

“Awe, sweet baby,” he slowly pulls the knife out of your side, bringing it up to his face, “Your blood is pretty too, everything about you is so pretty.”

You tried to pull yourself up, to throw him off you, but your body weighed millions, arms like lead.

He presses the tip of his knife to your bare chest, aiming right atop your heart, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to kill you, feeling your blood on my hands,” he slowly pushed the knife in, and your gasps came in a rush and slowly dragged. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Sweet honey, so pretty even when you’re dying.”

He laughs. You blinked at him as the tears fell down your cheeks, taking one final breath and everything turning black.

You shot straight up in your bed, hands reaching for your chest and side, not feeling the wounds. It was just a dream…just a dream.

Sweat droplets slid down your face and you wiped them away with the back of your hands. The cool air of your apartment helped cool you off from the dream. Creating goosebumps on your skin.

The dream. Where was Jake?

You looked to your left, seeing his side of the bed empty, “Jake?” you called out, your heart racing faster, “Jaeyun?”

You glanced at the chair in the corner of the room, seeing his duffle bag still there, the ghost face mask hanging from the top of the chair, staring directly back at you. His side of the bed was cold, proving he’d been gone for a while, “Jake?” you called out again, the silence was starting to make you go crazy, crazier than you already were for homing a serial killer.

You had feelings for him, despite everything he has done and will do. You wanted to fix him, praying that having him by your side twenty-four-seven was doing the trick, even if it was a little at a time.

But you started to panic, slowly starting to crawl out of bed when your bedroom door opened and your heart stopped.

“You called for me, honey?” Jake asked with a quart of cherry vanilla-swirled ice cream in his hands and a spoon hanging from his mouth. You stared at him, not knowing what to make of this. He looks down at the quart in his hands and back up at you, “I was craving a late-night snack.”

How was the man in front of you a serial killer? How was he clinically insane and batshit crazy, but craved ice cream? Being so soft and gentle at this moment. You’d never guessed he’d murdered so many people.

Jake pulled the spoon from his mouth and reached it back into the quart, “Want some?”

You shrugged but nodded, might as well right?

With a cute smile on his face, he sits down on the bed in front of you and scoops up the creamy goodness, and holds it to your mouth, “Say ah!”

You let him feed you, feeling your heartwarming by how cute he was right now. How…angelic he was. Jake’s happy expression quickly changes to a concerned one, “Honey, what’s wrong?” He sat the ice cream down on the nightstand table and placed his cold hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were still there, “talk to me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him you dreamed of him killing you. Mostly when nearly two months ago he was so willing to slice your throat open on your kitchen floor. “It was just a bad dream.”

Jake pouts, “My sweet baby,” he lays down beside you and pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close to him, “I’m sorry, want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, wrapping your arm around his waist, “I just want to be close to you, it’s helping. I promise.”

Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what you dreamt of. The look on your face gave it away. Jake expected it, honestly. He almost killed you, so you have a very valid reason for having such horrid dreams as that. Jake couldn’t lie, he wanted nothing more than to slice his knife across certain parts of your body to watch you bleed, but not kill you. How could he kill the love of his life?

He held you close, listening to the sound of your breathing and how it slowed down as you drifted back off to sleep. He slowly traced his thumb up and down your back, his eyes locking onto his mask hanging from the chair, and a smirk spread on his lips.

It was almost time.

—

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms and staring at the corkboard. Eyes tracing along the red thread that connected each murder case. The murder cases against Ghost Face…against Jake. You mindlessly kept your eyes tracing, acting like you were busy trying to figure it out, acting like you normally would on any other day. It’s been a rough couple of months of lying to the rest of your club, that’s for sure. How did Jake do it this whole time?

“YN!!” You whip your head around to the new recruit of the club, seeing her bright cute smile as she walks up to you, and then look at the board, “You’ve been staring for a while, find any new clues?”

Danielle Marsh, a freshman and such a sweet girl who came from Australia on a journalism scholarship and has the brains—and the grades—to make it big one day. She is just as invested in the Ghost Face murders almost as much as you were. Lying to such a sweet soul every day was heartbreaking.

“Nope, not yet? Dani,” you said with a fake sigh, looking back at the board, “Nothing new.”

“Well darn!” her cute Aussie accent puffed, “I’ve also been staring at this all day, and going through your old journals and notes about the cases to get a brighter idea, but nothing.”

You thinned your lips to a line and looked down to the floor, “It’s rough out here.”

It was silent in the club room until the doors opened, both you and Danielle looking to see Jake walking in with a bag, “I brought lunch!”

Danielle clapped her hands, rushing to Jake and taking the bag, “Thank you!”

He smiles at her, both of you watching as she makes herself comfy at the table and pulls out everyone’s food.

You sit across from her, feeling Jake wrap his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin atop your head.

Danielle hands you a box with your food but notices there are only two boxes, “Are you not eating, Jake?” you ask him.

He shakes his head, “Nope, I ate earlier. I have somewhere to be here soon. Only stopped by to drop off lunch and head out.”

You hummed, wondering what he had to be doing here soon. You already knew, or assumed, what he was doing, but you also couldn’t ask, not with Danielle in the room.

So you both ate in silence, her eyes glancing on and off from you and Jake, a small smile on her face, “Jake have you figured anything else out about the murders?”

You tried to act normal, to keep your body calm and a poker face on, continuing to eat as if that question didn’t trigger something.

Jake just sighs, deciding to sit beside you now and dropping his face into his palm, “Not a thing. Whoever he is, he’s smart, that’s for sure.”

Way to boost your own ego there, Jake Sim.

“He’ll get caught someday,” Danielle casually says, taking a bite of her chicken.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Oh yeah? You think so?”

You carefully watched him. Jake knew your eyes were on him, watching his body language and how he looked at Danielle. He knew you were probably worried about her, possibly what he’d do to her. But you needn't worry, he wouldn’t harm her. Not unless she got too close.

Danielle nods, “He’s killed over thirty people and somehow stolen evidence from the police station after his first mess up. He’s bound to make another mistake.”

Jake raised his brows, heart pounding fast with excitement. Silly little thing, thinking he was fucking stupid enough to make another mistake like the first time. He was more careful than ever to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Plus he had you now, you’d make sure nothing bad happened to him.

“Anyway,” Danielle said, changing the subject, “Suspects,” she giggled, “Who do you think the man behind the mask is?”

It was Jake’s turn to watch you, a smile still on his face, “Yeah, honey, have any ideas or clues?”

You wanted to punch him, knowing he was doing this on purpose to tease you, to test you.

So you shrug, keeping your eyes locked to your food, “No idea. I thought I was close once, but after the evidence disappeared, it was back to the drawer board.”

Good fucking girl.

Jake wanted to kiss you so hard right now. It turned him on hearing you lie for him. To act so dumb and oblivious. All for him.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, his smile only growing wider.

“I’d love to stay with you lovely ladies,” Jake stands up, wrapping his arms back around you, “But I need to head out.” You nod, noticing Danielle’s mouth and eyes are smiling at you both.

Jake kisses your cheek and squeezes you tightly then is out the door.

“You two make such a good couple,” she coos, “Not only are you both the best journalists at this college, you’re the IT couple too!!~~~”

You softly chuckle, “We aren’t together though…” you sigh staring down at your chicken, “More of a situationship than anything else.”

Danielle frowned, “But he moved in with you, didn’t he? He holds your hand around campus and even shows you off on his Instagram. Totally thought you’d be an item.”

You shrug, taking a bite out of your food and swallowing, “He hasn’t asked me out or anything, so there’s technically not a label.”

You honestly didn’t know what Jake wanted with you. He treated you like a girlfriend, made love to you like a girlfriend, and did everything a boyfriend would do. Yet you still had no idea what he wanted. You were more surprised that he agreed to move into your apartment with you, considering he spends his free time, ya know, killing people. You mostly only asked him to move in to save poor Sunghoon, but also because you wanted him close to you. Maybe you were more insane than Jake was.

“Well,” Danielle sighs, “You two still are really cute together. I hope it eventually turns into a real relationship.”

You and me both, Dani.

—

Jake pulls a cell phone from his pocket, quickly dials a number, and presses the device to his ear, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Jake!” she sang on the other line, “Where are you?”

Jake smirks, “I am looking for you, Luna.”

She softly giggles over the line, “I am standing right where you told me to.”

Jake knew where she was. He could see her standing in the alleyway across the street from him. She wore a cute red glittery dress with matching high heels. Blonde dyed hair pulled back into a neat ponytail that was braided. She was cute, but nothing compared to you, his sweet honey.

“I am almost there,” he says, dropping his duffle bag to the ground. He was also standing in an alleyway, it being too dark for anyone to notice him, or even notice Luna across the street from him, “I might have taken a wrong turn.”

She giggles again, “Aren’t you like, top of your class or something? It’s what your dating profile said.”

“Ahh,” Jake chuckles, pulling his black suit from the bag, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he puts it on, “I’m book smart, not street smart.” It took everything in Jake to not laugh at how gullible this woman was. It’s why he picked her in the first place. It was so easy to create a fake dating profile on some random ass app with a fake last night and profile picture. This woman doesn’t even actually know what he looks like. Made this all the more fun. It wasn't just because of how stupid she was, she openly has it on her profile that she’s a Ghost Face enthusiast. Imagine that! A personal fan of his, what an honor it was to kill a fan. And an honor to her to be killed by him. Pity though, she was really pretty. He didn’t drive three hours here and wasted another two waiting around for night to hit just to make this an easy kill for her. No no, he was going to make this fun.

Jake continued to watch Luna as she laughed across the street, kicking her heels into the rubble of the street and pulling out his mask. “Wait,” He says, “I think I see you.”

Luna looks up and down the street and even behind her. “I don’t see you.”

“I’m across the street from you,” he smirks, tossing his duffle bag behind some abandoned boxes, and taking further steps back into the dark alleyway, “Walk over to me?”

She smiles and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, looking both ways before jumping from the curb and rushing across the street, “You better be giving me the best fuck of my life for making me run in heels.”

Jake’s smirk only grew, adjusting his mask over the top of his head, “Oh, don’t worry I’ll fuck you real good, I promise.”

He slid the mask down in place, holding the phone back between his shoulder and ear to slide his gloves on his hands.

“Good,” Luna let out a huff, taking a deep breath as she reached the other side of the street, “snow where are you?”

Jake hid in the darkness, “Hiding, gotta come find me,” he said in a teasing voice, watching how she smiled and walked down the alleyway. Stupid woman.

“I don’t see you, and why do you sound muffled?”

“Must be the shitty connection.”

She shrugs, slowly but surely making her way towards Jake. The closer she got, the more he could tell she was getting uncomfortable, “Jake it’s really dark out here, where are you?”

“Hmmm,” he hums, “I’ll tell you if you answer my question.”

She stops walking, clicking her tongue, and turns around, facing away from him.

Perfect.

“What?” she says annoyed, “If you’re pulling a prank and are actually on the other side of the street I swear.”

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Jake clenched the voice changer attached to his suit, “I just need to ask,” he pressed the button, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Luna’s heart dropped, her blood going cold, but a smile on her face, nevertheless, “I didn’t know you were also a Ghost Face enthusiast,” she giggled, “That kind of hot, actually. Didn’t think I’d find anyone else from this town who also was into it.”

Jake creeps up on her slowly, his knife being pulled from his pocket, “You see, the thing is, I am not from this town,” Luna’s smile fades, “I’m also not an enthusiast.”

Before she could turn around, Jake ended the call, tossing the burner phone somewhere in the abyss of the alley, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and pressing the knife to her neck.

Luna gasps, dropping her phone and purse to the ground, hands flying to Jake’s arm. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sharpness of Jake’s knife cut deep into her throat, the warm red liquid spilling from her neck and down the front of her hands and arms, her dress, and Jake’s arm.

“I am the Ghost Face,” he whispers as Luna starts to struggle against his hold, clawing at his arm with her nails, ripping the long sleeve of his suit, and digging into his skin.

He hisses as pushes her to the ground, her body landing with a thud. Using all the strength she had in her dying body to try and crawl away from him, her blood staining the concrete.

Jake was pissed now. He’d have to sew his suit back together and probably stitch up his arm once he’s back at the apartment. Oh, how worried you’ll be once you see him tonight. His anger flourishes even more, pissed at Luna for how she will make you worry about him.

Jake looped his boot at her waist, lifting her up and forcing her to flip over. He quickly dropped down, straddling her, loving the scared look on her face. The look of death looming over.

“Awe,” he coos, his Aussie accent mixed with the voice mod sent chills down her spine, “You really tried your best to get away,” he pins her arms down with his knees, and free hand pinned her shoulder to the ground, “You really shouldn’t trust random people on the internet. Haven’t your parents taught you that?” She gasped for air, trying to find some way to scream out for help. Jake clicked his tongue, hovering the tip of his knife to her chest, “Don’t you also know it’s rude to ignore people?” he slowly pushed the knife in, “Your parents didn’t teach you a damn thing, no wonder you’re so gullible.”

The sounds of her gasps mixed with the gurgling sounds of her blood pooling out from her neck and chest were music to his ears. He quickly pulled the knife out and slid it back in, creating a new wound. Jake repeated the process, spreading Luna’s blood all over himself, his mask, her dying body, and the ground. Loving how his knife sounded as it repeatedly broke her skin.

Jake was sweating, feeling the droplets stream down his face, needing some air.

He slid the mask up, finally revealing his true face to her. Blood dripped from her mouth as she stared blankly at him, vision going blurry. He laughs, “Still kicking? What a trooper.” He lifted up his right arm, shoving the sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the deep cuts her nails left, “No wonder you left such a nasty wound, you’re a fighter even when you’re fucking stupid.” Luna tried to fight, to say anything, her heartbeat barely holding on.

Jake traced the tip of his knife down the side of her pale face, “My girl might kill me when I return home after seeing the damage you did to my arm,” he tilted his head, “I promised her I would be careful,” he chuckles, “Oh well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“fuck…you…” was all Luna managed to say with her dying breath.

Jake’s smile grew, “That wasn’t very nice.” He was done playing now, wanting to return home and cuddle you the rest of the night. He wasted enough time here, “So long, Luna.”

Jake made his final strike, her blood splattering across his face as she took her final breath.

—

You paced about the living room, arms crossed over your chest and hands rubbing your upper arms. Where was he? It’s been hours and he was nowhere to be seen. You called Sunghoon asking if he was with him, only to your dismay, Sunghoon hasn’t seen him since soccer practice this morning.

You already figured out what Jake was doing. His duffle bag wasn’t in its normal spot in the bedroom. The endless thoughts of the worst possible scenarios raced through your head. What if something happened? What if he got caught? What if his victim fought back and he couldn’t get away? Many more different thoughts spilled about your brain. And you wouldn’t rest until he either walked through that door or called you.

You’ve called him multiple times. Texted him too. But got no response. Jake normally turns his phone off when he…to keep from someone tracking his location or disturbing him. It only made you worry more.

The spots on the hard floor were now warm from your pacing and your neighbors below you were probably getting ready to grab a broomstick and start hitting their ceiling.

But all your worries faded when your ears picked up the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, being pushed into the lock and turning. The door opened and finally, Jake stepped inside. He smiled at you, “Hi my sweet honey, you waited up for me?”

You wanted to rush to him, to hug him and kiss him and yell at him for being gone so long and making you worry. To beat the shit out of him for committing another murder and how you felt like shit because all you want to do is fix him. But to your dismay, you know you can’t fix insanity, not when you’re also insane.

Jake tilted his head, “Not going to welcome me home?”

You noticed the dried blood on his face and hair, you pitted whoever the victim was, “Welcome home, Jake.”

“That my sweet honey,” he drops the duffle bag to the floor and walks over to you, embracing you to his chest. He smelt of sweat and blood, causing you to scrunch your nose.

“You need a shower.”

Jake chuckles, squeezing you tightly, “I know.”

You ran your hands from his shoulders down to his forearm, his face wincing. You looked up at him, “What's wrong?”

Jake awkwardly smiled, “Nothing.”

You looked down to his forearm where your hand gripped onto his hoodie sleeve, noticing how pale his skin looked on his hand. Something happened. You quickly pulled up the sleeve, seeing four deep cuts to the skin.

“Now…honey—��

“What the fuck happened?!” You snapped, pointing your finger to the kitchen table, “Sit the fuck down.”

Jake quickly nodded. Shit, she might actually fucking kill me.

You pulled the first aid kit from the bathroom and quickly rushed back to him, kneeling down in front of him. He was lucky you decided to buy the most expensive one and had first aid training. Ya know, in case something like this happened. Jake explained to you the series of events that led up to now, with an insane smile on his face the entire time.

“It was perfect,” he coos, “You should have seen it, honey.”

You gently smiled at him, deciding to keep your thoughts on how you were perfectly fine not being there to witness it. You cleaned up what you could of the wounds, “You’ll need stitches.”

He cocks his head, eyes filled with so much endearment for you, “Good thing I have you to take care of me, ya?” He caresses your cheek, thumb gliding to your lips and pulling the button one down, “So good for me.”

You pulled from his graze, reaching into the kit and pulling out the tools, dissolvable stitches, and bandages, “This will probably hurt.”

Jake shrugs, “I’m a soccer player, I’ve had stitches and broken bones before.”

You pushed off his sassy attitude, preparing the needle and the string. Jake sat through it like a champ, only winching when the needle pierced through his skin. You placed ointment over the stitches and bandaged it up, “All done.”

Jake leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead and then leans back into the chair, “Thank you, honey.”

You packaged up the kit, another thought shooting in your mind, “She dug her nails into you, correct?”

Jake inhales, “Yeah? Isn’t that what I said?”

You glared at him, “She probably has your DNA under her nails, you fucking idiot!”

Your chin was between his index finger and thumb before you even had the chance to blink, his face inches away from yours, “I’m not a fucking idiot!” he hissed between his teeth, “I took care of it.” He dropped your chin, running his hands through his dark sweaty, and blood-soaked hair, keeping eye contact with you. Your pissed-off glare was relentless, and oh man, it was turning him on. Seeing you so pissed off at him yet so worried about his well-being. What did he do to deserve you?

Jake drops his hand to his crotch, palming his hardening length, “I love it when you look at me like that,” he tilts his head, “You know what I’d love even more?”

You waited, feeling your arousal starting to pool on your panties.

“Your mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Jake slowly unbuttoned his jeans, looping his thumbs in between the fabric of his boxers and skin, sliding both his jeans and boxers down to the floor, his fully hard dick resting against his abdomen. He tilted his chin up, signaling for you to touch him.

So you did, wrapping your hand around his base and slowly pumping him, taking the precum spilling from the tip and spreading it around the head. Jake groans at your touch, cock twitching, “Stop teasing me, baby.”

He places his hand on your head, gently pushing you forward, his tip touching your lips. You place a few kisses to the tip, sneaking your tongue out and wrapping it around the head, hand sliding up and down the shaft as you slowly take him in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow motion and flattening your tongue to fit him in deeper.

“Fuck, honey,” he moans, moving your head with his hand to help you pick up the speed, “Your mouth feels so good.”

His tip hits the back of your throat, kicking in your gag reflex, sending vibrations against him. Jake hisses, flinging his head back over the chair and bucking his hips up, “Fuck, YN, oh fuck.”

Your hands now held onto his thighs, feeling the muscles flex against your palms as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, your nose brushing against his pelvis. You tucked your feet beneath you and squeezed your thighs together, trying to feel some fiction of your own as your arousal pooled in your panties, more than likely soaking through the thin material and your shorts.

Tears swelled your eyes as you tried to breathe through your nose, relishing too much in this pleasure of having him so far down your throat to even dare think about coming up for air. But the twitch his cock did against your tongue told you enough that he wouldn’t last much longer.

You fluttered your eyes up, already seeing him staring back down at you. Jake’s eyes were completely blown out, mouth gaped open, and breathing deeply. The dried blood on his face—for whatever reason—mixed with the facial expression of pure bliss, was so fucking hot on him.

It didn’t make sense to you, how you could find blood splattered across his beautiful face to be so attractive. Maybe it was just your plain attraction to him, the feelings you felt for him that ran so deep that he made blood look good.

Jake loved this moment, loved you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching how his cock disappears down your throat. God, it was perfect, way better than the murder he committed hours ago. He loved how the tears swelled your eyes but you loved every moment of his cock in your mouth.

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock, baby,” he bucked his hips up harder, hitting the back of your throat and you moaned around him. His fingers tangled in your hair, “I’m gonna fill that pretty little mouth of yours with my load and you’ll swallow it, understand?”

You tried to nod but instead batted your eyes at him in understanding, he just smirked, “Good girl.”

With a few bobs of your head, Jake pushed you down onto him, hips snapping up to meet your nose against his pelvis, his cum shooting down your throat. He took a few deep breaths, rocking his hips to chase out that high, flinging his head back against the chair.

When his grip on your hair released, you slid him out your mouth, causing Jake to look back up at you, waiting. You swallowed his seed, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, showing the proof.

Jake smirks, leaning forward and giving you a quick kiss, “I’m so in love with you.”

He stands from the chair, kicking his legs out of his jeans and boxers and pulling the hoodie and shirt off too, tossing them to the floor.

You narrowed your eyes at him, piercing daggers into his back. He just got the best head of his life and he’s stripping and dropping his nasty bloody clothes all over your floor?

“Honey?” he calls for you, pulling out his bloody suit and mask, “Would you mind please washing my clothes for me? I’ll repay you by making breakfast in the morning.”

He turns to you, picking up all the clothes he left on the floor and handing them to you, his naked body distracting you.

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at his face, “I’ll make love to you after my shower, okay?” He gives you a wink, “Please wash my clothes?” You quickly nod, how could you turn down getting dicked down later AND breakfast tomorrow morning? He placed one last kiss on your lips and made his way to the shower.

—

You leaned against the arcade machine, watching as Jake and Sunghoon slapped their palms onto the buttons of the Tekken game, both their faces with full smiles and concentration. Your eyes wandered down to Jake’s arms and hands, his beautiful veins popping out.

“Be careful,” you said, fully noticing just how hard the two boys were slapping the buttons, “This is an old machine.”

“YES!!” Sunghoon screamed, raising his hands in the air and causing you to jump back from being startled by his outburst, “Suck it Jake!”

Jake dropped his face into his hands, resting his elbows on the machine, “I was so sure I had you!”

Sunghoon patted Jake’s back, “Can’t win them all buddy.”

Jake quickly shot up from the stool, his index finger pointing across the arcade, “Dance battle me!”

Sunghoon smirked, “You’ll lose again.”

Jake flipped him the bird, shoving the middle finger in his face as he walked away, “Try me.”

The two of them rushed to the Dance Dance Revolution game, fighting over who would use their coins for the round.

You still get whiplash every time you see Jake doing normal things. That this man—who is a fucking serial killer—is fighting with his best friend over who is going to pay for the game, just like any normal set of friends would do. Besides the fact that he is far from normal.

“Kids, am I right?”

You got startled for the second time today, jumping and quickly whipping your head around to see where and who the voice came from. You recognize that dyed blonde hair and smile.

Jay Park. A student in the film department. You’ve worked with him plenty of times on different projects for the college. He even helped you and Jake on one of the first few Ghost Facer murder cases. It’s been a while since you’ve actually gotten to see or really speak to him besides in passing.

You leaned against the Tekken arcade machine and crossed your arms, your eyes wandering back to Jake and Sunghoon, watching as they competitively danced away, “Yeah, boys will be boys, I guess.”

Jay follows your gaze over to them, chuckling at them, “Are they always like this?”

That…was a good question. You and Jake didn’t hang out with Sunghoon very often. Even before you found out about Jake’s Ghost Face persona you didn’t see a lot of Sunghoon. Nothing was different now.

So you just kind of shrugged, “When I see the two of them together, yeah.”

Jay was looking at you again, eyebrows raised, “When you see them both?” you nodded, “Oh, well figured you would since you’re dating Sim.”

“Actually,” you sigh, once again being reminded how he’s not yours, “We aren’t…dating.”

Jay was now even more confused, “Doesn’t he live with you?”

You thinned your lips and gave another shrug, “It’s complicated.” Complicated because I’m housing a serial killer who has yet to slap a label on what we even are.

“So you’re single then?” you nod again, “In that case.” Jay leaned closer to you, his face a few inches away from yours and his arm resting behind you against the gaming machine, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? If I am being honest, I’ve always found you super cute.” Jay couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down your body, stopping at the ruffles of your skirt, loving how the cute flowered laced ends looked against your pushed thighs, “I would pay and everything, be my treat.”

The dance ended with Jake and Sunghoon practically coming to a tie, Jake only by three points ahead of him.

“Fuck…” Jake pants, “You…” he said with another pant and once again giving his best friend his middle finger, “Beat your ass.”

Sunghoon shoved his friend's hand out of his face, rolling his eyes, “By three points!”

Jake just smiles, happy with his win, “YN did you see…” Jake barely turned around to speak with you to see you still by the last game they played and Jay in your personal space. His blood boiled and his fists clenched, “Why is Park in my girl's space?”

Sunghoon took a deep breath, still tired from the intense dance battle, and turned, seeing the same thing Jake was, “Maybe he's just being friendly?”

Friendly? HA. Right. That look on Jay’s face was anything but friendly. Jay was looking at you the way he does, “Friendly my ass,” Jake hissed, “I don’t like it.”

Sunghoon sighed, “Well, maybe if you made it official between the two of you, he wouldn’t be in her space.”

Make it official? Wasn’t Jake living under your roof, sleeping in your bed, fucking you so good every single night not proof enough that you two were exclusive? That you’re his and no one else’s?

Jake’s anger boiled further, seeing how you shook your head at Jay but kept smiling at him. His smile only became bigger. Jake’s nails sank into his palm.

“Damn, dude,” Sunghoon whistled, “Never seen you so jealous before.”

Jealous? Ridiculous.

“Why don’t you go get us a table at that restaurant we planned to hit up after this,” Jake said with a killing calm, “YN and I will meet you there soon.”

Sunghoon agreed, mostly because he wanted no part of whatever it was Jake was about to do. He’s never seen him so jealous over something. Sunghoon definitely didn’t want to be around if a fight broke out. Praying to every god possible that you’re able to keep Jake calm.

Once Sunghoon was out of the arcade, Jake stepped down from the dance game, eyes blazing at seeing Jay trace his fingers down from your shoulder to your wrist.

Jake was on you in an instant, “Hands off my girl,” he growled, shoving Jay away from you and pulling you behind him, his killer instinct coming on full display. Oh man, how badly did Jake want to kill Jay. To slowly sink his knife into his neck and watch the life drain from his eyes and blood stream from the wound.

Jay chuckled, “Your girl?” he smirked, leaning back against the gaming machine, “Didn’t realize she belonged to you.”

This was the first time you were actually scared of Jake. You’ve never seen him so pissed off, so protective. His grip on your wrist was growing tighter the longer he pierced daggers at Jay.

“I came in her this morning, making her mine,” Jake smirked, the fire in his eyes not relenting.

“Are you a dog?” Jay scrunched his nose and raised a brow, “Marking your territory or some shit?”

“Fucked her in doggy, so yeah.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Jay stood up straight, taking a few steps back, “What the fuck man.”

“Woof.”

“Jake!” you slapped his arm, trying to yank your wrist free, your cheeks flushed from him exposing your morning deeds, “Stop, let’s just go!”

You tried to pull Jake now, only for him to yank you back closer to him, you tripping over your feet and landing against his back, “What’s wrong baby? Am I embarrassing you?” he coos, “Were you so bored of me that you had to slut around and flirt with someone who wasn’t me?”

“Hey!” Jay barked, “Don’t talk to her like that!”

“Or what?” Jake said with a chilling calm, taking a few steps closer to Jay, being inches apart from his face, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Get out,” Jay scoffed, “Before I kick you out.”

Jake raised a brow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, asshat, my family owns this arcade. I work here, get the fuck out.”

Jake smirks, walking backward and sliding his arm over your shoulder, “Nah, we got some coins left to use.”

The last thing Jay wanted to do was call the police and have to explain to his family it was all over a girl. So he watched Jake cling to you as he turned you both around, placing a kiss on your temple, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. Jay didn’t know Jake well, but the man he was seeing right now, scared the shit out of him. Like he could kill him in a heartbeat. So Jay left it alone, walking over to the front counter and sitting down on the stool, keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.

Jake dropped himself in front of another fighting game, pulling you into his lap, lips on your ear, “You better fucking talk me out of this one,” he growled, “because if you don’t I’m returning here later tonight, and fucking killing him and stringing his body from the ceiling for his family to find tomorrow morning.”

Your heart sank, eyes looking over to Jay and seeing his eyes staring back at you, “Jake please,” you whispered.

“Please what?” he whispered back, both his hands rubbing at your thighs, “You were so flirty with him and now you’re begging me to not kill him?”

You hated how his voice in your ear was making you wet. How his hands squeezing your bare thighs was sending chills up your spine. Jake knew it was turning you on, he wasn’t stupid. He knew your body and how it works and how to work it, he was using this to his advantage.

You leaned back into him, slightly turning your face so you could see him in your peripherals, “Jake, you know I only want you.” And it was true. You wanted only Jake. You loved him. Yeah, you got kinda flirty with Jay, but it wasn’t going anywhere, you kept turning down his advances and he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but that doesn’t mean Jake needs to kill him. You had to play Jake’s game and be in control, “Only you.”

Jake chuckles, sliding his hands to your inner thighs and spreading your legs, exposing your red panties to Jay. Jake took a quick glance at him, seeing his face turn red and his eyes widen. Jake didn’t just chuckle because of what you said, he was chuckling at you. He found it so cute that you think you’re the one in control, “I love watching you think you’re controlling me,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “You can’t play mind games with a serial killer, baby,” Chills went throughout your body as his fingers slid up to your core, “Nice try though.”

“Jake,” you gasped, clenching your fingers to the stool, his knuckle rubbing against your folds, “I truly only want you, I don’t want him.”

Ahh your words were music to his ears. Your voice so full of truth, and your cunt so wet for him. Only him, “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispers, “You’re going to pull the last few coins from my pocket and play this game here, got it?” You nod, slipping a hand into his jeans pocket and taking out the golden arcade coins, “Don’t put them in yet,” he licks another stripe up your ear, his thumb looping into your panties.

“What are you do—Jake!” you softly moaned his name, feeling the cool air hit your exposed cunt as he split your pussy lips open with his index and ring finger, the middle sliding up and down from your fuck hole to your clit and back down, “Jake, we’re in public,” you finally managed to say, eyes rushing back to Jay, seeing him dead staring.

“And?” he laughs, sliding his middle finger into your cunt, “We’re going to give him a show.”

You knew Jake was insane, knew something like this was nothing compared to the things he’s done, yet it still surprised you nevertheless that he had your legs spread and pussy out for another man to see.

Jake kept a firm grip on your thigh as his finger slowly pumped in and out of you, his eyes piercing at Jay. Jake kept eye contact as he flattened his tongue against the end of your neck and licked up and up until he reached just below your jaw, planting an open-mouthed kiss on that sweet spot. Jake loved how agitated Jay was getting. How he tried so hard to look away from the two of you but couldn’t. It was a mind game, one Jake was going to win.

But GOD you felt so good against his finger, so good he slipped his index and ring fingers in along with the middle, stretching your pussy. You moaned out, it being loud enough Jay was able to hear it from across the arcade, the tips of his ears turning red.

You clenched around Jake’s fingers and he hissed, his cock begging to be freed from the confinements of his jeans. He didn’t want to want any longer.

Jake lifted you off him, “Put the coins in the machine.” You listened, sliding the golden metal in one by one until the start-up screen loaded, “Now play the game.” You tried to focus on the start of it, but the sounds of Jake’s belt unlatching and zipper being pulled down, made it hard.

He spreads your pussy’s lips again, lining the tip to your entrance, “Slide down on me baby.”

Heat rises to your face cheeks, eyes darting around the arcade, Jay’s eyes being the only ones watching you, the only pair that even noticed what was happening in this corner. You slowly slid down onto Jake, him hissing out a soft “fuck,” when his tip kisses your cervix.

Jake squeezed your hips, thanking whatever little voice in your head that told you to wear a skirt today and making this so much easier on him and it is so fucking hot.

He bucked his hips up, not even giving you time to adjust to his size. You bit down on your lip as you played the game, trying to focus on the fight in front of you. Your palm squeezed the joystick so hard you were afraid you’d break it.

Fuck you felt so good wrapped around him. And it felt so good to fuck you in front of Jay, relishing in the look spread across Jay’s face and how tightly his jaw was locked. Jake just smirked, fucking into you harder and faster.

You couldn’t keep control of the game, eventually giving up and gripping onto the sides of the machine, trying with everything you had to not scream out in pleasure. Jake took this as an opportunity, him grabbing you by your neck and pushing you against his chest, his knees lifting up and spreading your legs further apart.

“You don’t know how badly I want to kill him,” he whispers in your ear, being so out of breath, “I can’t fucking stand how he was looking at you, looking at what’s mine,” The anger returned, the jealously. Fuck he was jealous. That was a first for him, “I want to kill him for looking at my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. He called you his girlfriend. You clenched around him after hearing that, the pleasure washing over you tenfold at having that label.

“Hmmm fuck baby,” he groans, “keep clenching me like that and I’m going to spill into you.” You clenched again, not purposely, it just felt so fucking good to be fucked by your boyfriend, it felt good knowing he was jealous of another man to the point of wanting to kill for you. And maybe that made you just as crazy as him.

“Jake,” you softly moaned, forcing yourself to keep quiet.

Jake kisses your temple, “Moan my name louder, honey. Let our friend Jay over there know who you belong to, who is the only one that can make this pussy wet.” He bucked his hips harder, his skin slapping against your ass.

You moaned his name louder, making eye contact with Jay again.

“Fuck yes,” Jake smirks, “You’re so good for me.”

You clenched around him again, your climax fast approaching. Jake moans at how your walls hugged him, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you tightly to him as he fucked into you harder, fixing to burst, “Cum with me baby, oh fuck please cum with me.”

With his wishes, you both came together, him continuing to buck his hips slowly, mixing your cum together.

Jake leaned back against the wall, still holding you to his chest, smirking at Jay as he catches his breath, watching how his eyes go from your face and travel down to your cunt, watching the mixture of your and Jake’s cum leak from your hole.

You took deep breaths in, grabbing your skirt and pulling it down as far as you could, “Jae,”

Jake kissed your cheek, “Let’s go and meet up with Hoon now, ya?”

You nod, pulling him out and readjusting your panties and skirt as Jake fixes his jeans and then leaves the arcade with Jake’s chilling laughter echoing within the walls.

—

You sat at the edge of the bed, watching Jake sharpen his knife. He sat in the chair he usually kept his duffle bag and mask on, fully clothed in his Ghost Face attire, the mask resting at the top of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration, lifting the knife in front of his face and smirking at his work.

You wanted to ask him who he was planning on killing tonight, if it was someone you knew or a random person off the street. But you didn’t know if you actually wanted the answers to those questions, not knowing if Jake would even give you those answers. He glances at you then goes back to sharpening, “What are you thinking about?”

Shit. He caught you. You tried to find anything—literally anything—to come up with in a bullshit way to answer his question, your eyes falling onto the mask, “Why that mask specificity?” It was a real genuine question, you’ve always wondered it ever since the murders first started happening.

Jake smiles at you, “Why not this one?” he tosses the sharpening tool into his duffle, reaching up and sliding the mask down onto his face, “It’s scary, isn’t it?” You nodded but also shrugged. You weren’t scared of Jake, so seeing him fully in this outfit wasn’t affecting you. You couldn’t see, but he was grinning ear to ear underneath the mask, “It’s better with the voice mod,” he chuckles, flipping the switch on the voice changer, “It makes all the difference, doesn’t it, honey?”

Chills went down your back and you pressed your knees to your chest. The look on your face told Jake everything. He was right, it made a difference. If you didn’t know it was him beneath the mask you’d be terrified. His Aussie accent was no longer present and you couldn’t even tell it was his voice. No wonder his victims were always so scared.

Jake tilts his head at you, honestly getting hard at how scared you look. That look, that pretty and scared look on your face was what he wanted that night he tried to kill you. Oh, how time has passed since then. But he didn’t have time to reminisce about the past, he was running late for a killing date.

He stood from the chair, “You’re leaving already?”

Jake slides his gloves onto his hands, “Yes. I’ll be back soon.” You wouldn’t be able to get used to that ghost face voice.

You wanted him to stay home. It was the weekend and he BARELY spent the weekends with you. If he wasn’t off committing crimes, he was at soccer practice or with Sunghoon, or sticking himself in a study room at the library on campus to study. So you acted fast, not just in a way to stop him from ending someone else’s life, but to beg him to stay home.

“Jae,” you called his name, stepping in front of him, “Why don’t you stay home?”

He chuckles, adjusting the gloves and then flexing his fingers, “I have to go.” Jake was fucking crazy, he knew he was. He loved the thrill of the kill, the screams and blood and smells. It was intoxicating, almost like a drug.

Jake goes to step around you, but you keep blocking his path, “Stay home with me.”

He was getting irritated, “Move, honey, I am asking nicely.”

You shook your head, “Spend the weekend with me.”

Jake takes your chin between his fingers and pulls your face to the mask, “I won’t ask again, be a good girl and listen to me.”

You noticed he gripped the knife in his hand and could only imagine how pissed he must look underneath the mask. But you were desperate, wanting to find some way to keep him home, and what better way than to use your womanly charm? You pressed your breasts against his chest, knowing he could feel how braless you were under his favorite rock band tee shirt, “Please Jakey.”

He almost caved—almost—he slid his fingers from your chin down to your upper arm, ready to brush you out of his path, but your desperateness only pushed forward. You reached for the knife in the hope if you took it from him things would go your way and he’d stay home.

But you forgot for a solid second who it was you were dealing with.

You were now facing away from him, your back to his chest and knife pressed against your neck. Your eyes widened as you looked into the mirror in front of you. Seeing how his gloved hand pressed tightly to your stomach, how his head rested to the side of yours and his knife pressed to your throat. You swallowed, rubbing your thighs together.

“Ahh, it’s a sight to see isn’t it, honey? This is what you looked like the first time I held my knife to your pretty neck.” Jake was hard looking at you in the mirror with him pressed to you. It was one thing seeing you beneath him, but to see it in reflection? While he’s in his attire with the love of his life in front of him? It was even better than before.

“Is this what all your victims look like?” you whispered, placing your hands on his forearms, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, exposing more of your neck, “How it goes before you cut their throats open?”

Jake hums, “Yes, but seeing them like this never got me hard, not as you do.” He rubbed his clothed cock against your ass, “Fuck you get me so hard. I love the way my knife looks against your skin.”

You backed your ass against him, grinding on his cock, “Use it on me then.” what the fuck are you saying?

“Fuck don’t say things like that baby,” he tightened his grip on you, “Don’t say things like that to me.”

Jake would enjoy using his weapon on you, to cut you open and see how pretty you looked covered in blood, god it made his cock twitch. But he couldn’t do it, not at the risk of accidentally killing you. He loves you and can’t live without you. The risk wasn’t worth it.

You continued to rub against him, “Stay home with me.”

Fuck it.

He pushes you forward, forcing you to reach your hands out to lay flat against the mirror, your nose brushing against the cool glass, “You want me to stay home?” the voice mod hissed, his hand leaving your waist to pull the mask from his face, his eyes full of lust as they stared at you through the mirror. He tossed the mask to the bed, pressing his lips to your ear, “Want to be dicked down that badly?” you nod, the knife getting pressed tighter to your throat, “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes,” it came out in a loud moan, “I want you to stay home, to fuck me this whole weekend.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you off the mirror and back against his chest, “Let’s rid you of your clothes, yeah?”

Jake traced the tip of the knife down your throat and to the edge of his favorite band shirt, not giving a single damn that he cut into the fabric, slicing a line down to the middle, then using his hands to tear it apart, revealing your bare upper half, sliding the torn shirt to the floor.

The leather of his glove tickled when he placed his hand back to your waist, tracing the knife from your belly button up, moving it underneath your breasts, and circling them, slowly and carefully grazing your nipples. It made your core clench and the hair on your skin rise. Oh how badly he wanted to cut your skin, even if just a tiny bit, just to scratch that itch he’s been craving since day one. Deciding he was just going to do it.

But he was going to fuck you first.

Jake didn’t waste any more time and pulled your shorts and panties off your body and pressed you back against the mirror, ridding himself of his suit and other clothing, leaving you both bare, skin-to-skin.

Jake kicked your legs apart, a string of your slick connected both ends of your thighs, showing off how wet you already were for him. Jake licked his lips, scooping up your juices with two fingers and placing them into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his digits. His body shuddered at your taste, cock twitching, needing to feel you.

He lifted your hips up, and slid inside you with ease, not being able to wait, and fucked into you. Pressing his hand down on your lower belly, feeling his thick length push in and out of your cunt, “Oh, fuck,” he moans, throwing his head back and fucking his hips harder. He was more sensitive right now, not knowing why or even really caring why. He doesn’t even care if he cums first, because he’s going to spend this entire night fucking you. Making you cum over and over and making him cum over and over. He’s going to spend the whole weekend with his cock buried inside you. Who gives a fuck about the people he could be killing when he can be balls deep in your pussy.

He pressed his hand against you harder, feeling more of himself move against your walls and squeezing tighter around him, “Baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” he flings his head forward, leaning it against yours as he looked at you in the mirror, seeing your fucked out expression, pupils blown out and mouth open and moaning out with each thrust he gave you, his knife sitting pretty against your neck, “Fuckkkkkk,” he moans, “I can’t hold it in.”

One final thrust and his cum painted your gummy walls white. Jake kissed your cheek, gently sliding the knife from your throat, down your shoulder, and stopping halfway on your upper arm. His hooded eyes lock with yours, asking for permission, but before you can even give it to him, he presses the metal into your skin, the crimson liquid slowly oozing from your body.

Jake bit his lips, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip, and ramming it back inside you, already ready for round two.

You were moaning louder this time, chanting out his name as your fingers gripped the mirror, feeling your blood streaming down your arm and onto the floor.

“Goddamn,” he hissed, cutting another wound below the first one, not being able to control himself, “You look so pretty bleeding out for me.”

Your brain went dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was from the loss of blood or from how good Jake was fucking you. It was probably both.

You released one hand from the mirror and cupped it to your arm, trying to stop what you could from it staining the carpet. But Jake’s thrusts were unrelenting, working faster than before and hitting your g-spot. The knot threatened to snap and it made you dizzier, almost losing your balance, forcing you to place your now bloody hand on the glass, leaving bloodied handprints.

“Jae,” you moaned his name, “Fixing to cum.”

Jake bit your ear softly, “Cum for me, honey.”

The pleasure of your release formed goosebumps on your skin, mixing with Jake’s previous cum.

You don’t know what came over you in the second, but you felt powerful. You had your boyfriend a cumming mess within minutes of him being inside you. You got him to stay home, to be with you. You were in control right now. You’ve taken over in the mind games.

You pushed yourself off from the mirror, forcing Jake out of your hole and stumbling back. You were quick to whip around, your hands finding home on his chest and pushing him to the bed, forcing him to sit on the edge as you climbed into his lap, sliding your cunt back down onto him.

Jake was in heaven, feeling pure bliss as how quickly you dominated over him. He was a turn on, for sure, but he wouldn’t let you catch him off guard like that again, accepting your win.

Jake was even more surprised to feel your bloodied hand gripping his jaw and his knife in your other hand being pressed to his throat. How did you get it out of his hand? And when did you do it?

You smirked down at him, “What’s wrong Jaeyun?”

Oh, FUCK.

Jake’s hands found their home on your waist, pulling at you to start moving, “Ride my cock and maybe I’ll tell you.”

You leaned closer to him, pressing the knife closer like how he’s done to you. His cock twitched, begging to be ridden. You click your tongue, “Does it turn on the killer to see his girlfriend turn his weapon against him? To have you like fucking putty in my hands?”

He didn’t understand how this happened, but god was he relishing in it.

Jake could easily turn the tides. Could flip you over and take the knife back and fuck you senseless. But he was enjoying this too much, letting you think you still had full control.

“Baby,” he whispered, lifting up and placing a kiss on your lips, “Please ride my cock, I need to feel you.”

You honestly loved seeing your little killer beg for your sex, it was a power move and boosted your ego. You rocked your hips, taking the point of the knife and pressing it up to the bottom of his chin. This was exciting, no wonder he enjoyed knife play with you.

But alas, your power move eventually faded as you lost yourself on his cock, the knife was now tossed somewhere in the room. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, and the other behind him to keep balance as he fucked his hips up into you at the same motion of you fucking on him. Your bloody hand prints now covered him: his face, shoulder, neck, chest, all over his back and bicep. Everywhere. The wounds on your arm finally clotted and crusted over, no longer spilling.

You came again and then Jake a few seconds after you. But he wasn’t done with you yet, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you further onto the bed, laying your head on the pillows and placing your legs over his shoulders, “I love you.”

You cupped his face, “I love you too.”

Jake was true to his word when he swore he’d fuck you until you both came over and over and over again until the overstimulation was too much, cumming once more, then falling asleep in each other's arms.

You woke up that next morning with bandages on your arm and in fresh clean clothes. The bedsheets were stripped from the bed and a blanket was covering you. The blood from the mirror was now gone, and Jake was on the floor at the end of the bed doing what it looked like scrubbing your strained blood out of the carpet. You smiled, quickly closing your eyes and falling back to sleep, never in your life have you felt so safe in the presence of a serial killer.

—

You winced in pain as you dropped yourself onto the couch, your legs completely sore.

Jake chuckles from the kitchen as he prepares lunch for you both, “You okay in there, my love?” You peek over the couch, glaring at him, “Don’t look at me like that,” he says sweetly, “You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk the entire weekend.”

Jake stayed true to absolutely destroying your cunt the entire weekend. Man has some STAMINA, that’s for sure. Any chance he got, he was balls deep inside you. You just tried to enjoy a nice warm shower, was halfway through when Jake pulls the curtains back and stepped in, immediately pinning you against the wall and fucking you until you couldn’t stand. You couldn’t complain though, you got him the entire weekend to yourself.

The only thing that sucked was going back to classes tomorrow, meaning you’d have to share him again with everyone.

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it where I could barely walk.”

Jake just smiles, “What can I say, I love my girl weak in the knees for me.”

You made a fake laugh at his joke but still smiled brightly. You reached for the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through channels until a quick scene of the news was on, catching your attention and forcing you to go back.

“Yesterday evening, two bodies were found near a dumpster on the south side of the campus—“

“Jake,” you called for him, “Come in here.”

Jake stood behind you, leaning his body against the back of the couch, “What’s up?”

You point to the TV, “The two bodies have been identified as a young couple, we were last seen walking the campus, heading to the dorms—“The camera pans to the crime scene, their dead bodies being covered up by white tarps and police and investigators surrounding the area, one of the policemen pulling something out of the dumpster, your breath hitched “—a ghost face mask has been found at the scene of the crime—“

You whip around to look at Jake, “What the fuck Jake?!” but as soon as you yelled at him, you realized the look on his face.

He was livid.

“I’ve been with you the entire fucking weekend,” he snapped, “I didn’t do this.”

You faced back to the TV, watching the rest of the news coverage, “If it wasn’t you, then who did it?”

Jake pushed himself from the couch, ruffling his hands in his hair, pacing back and forth, “I don’t fucking know, but whoever they are, they are a fucking imposter!”

Jake was angry for more than one reason:

1: Whoever the fuck this person is, they fucked up so hard by leaving their mask at the scene. 2: They were trying to impersonate him. 3: WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY IMPERSONATING HIM?!

You stared at the TV screen, trying to process everything. Jake noticed it, how quiet you were, getting scared you were doubting him. So he rushed to you, kneeling before you and taking your face in his hands, “Honey. I promise you it wasn’t me. I’ve been here with you the whole weekend.”

You nodded. You knew he was here with you. He didn’t leave your side because he was too busy burning his cock in you. It just didn’t make sense. The last Ghost Face killing was about two weeks ago the same night Jake fucked you in the arcade. It was some random guy Jake happened to pass on a late-night walk to clear his head to not go back to the arcade and kill Jay. Jake has been clean since then.

Jake looked back to the TV, gritting his teeth, “I swear to—“ then his phone started ringing. The vibrations made his skin crawl.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, seeing Unknown Caller on the screen.

Jake looked up at you, and it was the first time you saw a small hint of fear in his eyes.

He accepted the call, placing the device to his ear.

“Hello, Jake.”

His eyes widened, hearing the voice changer nod that he uses on the other side of his call, “Who the fuck is this?”

“Hahaha, you don’t seem surprised that I know your secret?”

Jake stood up, quickly glancing around the room, “Why would I be? You’re playing the exact same game I do.”

Whoever this was, they knew Jake’s secret. Studied him. Knows how he kills and even the exact mask brand he wears. If this person was playing Jake’s game, then being in this apartment was no longer safe. Because they were already watching, already listening.

They laughed again, “Did you like the news? I did it special, just for you.”

“Go to hell!” Jake barked.

“Oh, but I’d see you there,” they chuckled, “I very much rather just send you there.”

Jake was tired of these games, “What do you want?” he clenched his fist, “You wanna be the sequel so damn bad don’t you?”

Silence, but then, “What do you think it is I want?”

“To be a shitty ass ghost face, but news flash, you’re already doing that.”

“I’d watch your tone, Jake Sim. It’d be a shame for something to happen to our precious little YN / YLN, wouldn’t it?” Jake’s heart stopped, “Check your texts.”

Jake removed the phone from his ear, clicking on the newly received texts. The first one was a photo of you at the college in the journal room looking over the corkboard. The second text was a video of you from the bedroom, the curtains were slightly drawn back and you were lifting your shirt off your body, revealing yourself in a black laced bra, and then the video cut off. The third and final text that came through, was a photo of both Jake and you on the couch yesterday morning, both naked as you rode his dick.

He pressed the phone back to his ear, “I swear to fucking god if you touch her.”

More laughter, “Maybe you should keep her closer and double check to make sure all windows are closed next time if you don’t want others seeing your…activities.”

Jake pulled you off from the couch, holding you close to him and repeating, “What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want.”

They clicked their tongue, “You’ll know soon enough. Goodbye, Ghost Face.” Then the line went dead.

Jake tossed his phone across the room, pulling you to his chest tightly, teeth gritting.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever that is, and I won’t let them hurt you.”

For the first time, you were genuinely scared. And so was Jake. He wasn’t scared of this imposter, he was scared of what they’d do to you.

And he won’t stop at nothing until they are six feet under.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

#jake bby #jake sim #sim jake #jaeyun sim #sim jake x reader #reader x sim jake #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing #ghostface!jake #ghostface au

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neowinestainedress · 6 months

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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♡ ”

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hirsheyskisses · 7 months

Note

hi could you write a scenario for kid with a crush that is like luffy who likes to prank him, tease and annoy him bc they find it funny, and know they can get away with it hhehekshrkhsk

Can't Take It.

EUSTASS KID x READER (short)

Summary: you love to pop out of nowhere. It doesn't matter what Kidd does, you'll arrive when he least expects it, and he hates (loves) it.

☆ kidd honestly can't help it. When you pop out of nowhere to greet him fresh after he's woken, he can't help but want to throw you on his bed and squish you.

☆ you have managed to scare the living daylights out of him in the middle of the night, when you teleport in front of him like a fucking ghost

☆ honestly the crew kinda hates it (but they get you back in their own way)

☆ but kid? No, he just grumbles and throws you over his shoulder, trying not to concentrate on how close you are and instead tries to assert dominance

☆ you couldn't care less though.. because you know he doesn't mind one bit.

Eustass Captain Kid does not do crushes. Especially not over someone like you. Or well, that's what he rants about to Killer, who'd had the audacity to accuse him of being in love with you. How dare he?! Sure, his heart flutters whenever he sees you, and he's always looking for you in the heat of battle, and he constantly needs to make sure that you're not up to something. But damn it, you keep popping out of nowhere. It doesn't help you have the teleport fruit, that allows you to pop up wherever you damn please.

Kidd has to be on constant guard in case you just pop up in front of him, his observation haki only able to pick up on your presence on the last possible second. God's he hates it even more when you pop up in the workshop, with that cute sparkle in your eyes as you snatch his tools to make him take a break, or randomly teleport him to odd spots around the ship, or how you'll so cutesy ask what he's making..

Okay, maybe Killer is right.. maybe it's a slight crush.

But that wasn't the point! You enraged him! Yet.. yet you were the only one he couldn't bring himself to punish for disturbing him. No, part of him actually looked forward to-

"GOTCHA!"

"FUCKING- (NAME)!"

He was yanked out of his thoughts as your arms wrapped around his neck, evil laughter ringing in his ears as he spun, reaching for you, but you were already halfway across the room, cackling at him. "Gotcha! Should've seen your face!" You wheezed, watching Kid's face contort as he stormed over to you, placing a hand on your head and forcing you to look at him.

God, your face was beautiful- you grinned at him so innocently even as he, Eustass Captain Kid, held your skull, even if his touch was gentle. "I told ya to stop that shit!" He grumbled, to which you laughed, "then stop making it so easyyy!"

"Damn woman." He cursed with a grin, pushing you against the wall. You met his annoyance with fire, staring up at him with blazing eyes. "Not my fault you lack awareness of your surroundings!" You stuck your tongue out at him, and fuck, he wanted to kiss you so bad- but Kid restrained himself, instead retorting, "Shouldn't need to worry about little shits on my ship everywhere." "You knew what you signed up for taking me in, Cap'n~" your voice teasing, "I am known for slitting people's throats without anyone knowing who I am."

He scoffed, dropping from your head as he turned around, "save that damn energy for the marines, woman!"

As if on cue, you flickered into view in front of his eyes. But before you could even squeak out a word he had his prosthetic arm around your lower torso, hoisting you up with ease as he continued walking. "Heyy! No fair! I can't teleport if you're holding meeee," you whined, to which Kidd smirked. "Can always teleport with me." "Thats no fun!"

"Works for me." Kid grunted softly, partially dying inside due to how you held onto him, arms wrapped around his neck yet again, and he could feel your hot breath fanning against his neck. "Hmph!"

He thought he was imagining things when you moved a bit closer, and Kidd picked up his pace to the workshop.

"Besides.. still need your damn imput in the workshop. So.. just stop conplaining!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt his stomach drop, quite literally, as mid step he appeared in the workshop. "Oh! Why didn't ya just say so-" "for fucks sake woman you know I hate that without warning!" He glared at you, teeth grinding as he dropped you on his desk.

"I was just being helpfulll," you teasingly poked at his shoulder, to which Kidd sighed.

He.. just couldn't bring himself to be mad at you.. and you knew it.

#eustass kid x reader #eustass x reader #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #one piece x reader #kid pirates

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honestlyaromantic · 1 month

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Starlo doodles - slight redesign. He is so sillay goofy funny. Might repost this later if I decide to color it!

PACIFIST ENDING SPOILERS ⚠️

I beat Pacifist the other day and sat on my bed then wanted to cry. Initially, Clover's death made me wanna die from crying so harde but also got goosebumps at Ceroba's fight.

We all gangsta until the intro of the final phase keeps replaying after you keep dying I was sobbing how many times my damaged fingers had to skip that dialogue over and over.

No but before Clover's mind was taken to the void I felt so bad for Star when Ceroba and Martlet started mildly fighting. "Fools let's just calm down and stop screaming before Clover wants to die for us😭😭😭"

Honestly I respect a lot of characters in that game a BUNCH. Dalv is chill, vibed with him and wanted to hug him. Martlet, also wanted to hug her and squeeze her then punch her in the face but positively. I have a really strong 2nd hand embarrassment thing for other characters, fictional or not so I get so humiliated along with them. Star doesn't know how to not get me so riled up w that istg kill him slowly. Vibed with Ceroba also. I rlly like her character, no matter how silly she is for nearly murdering her daughter. <3 I have respect for Flowey also. AXIS IS FUNNY also that chase music ost bro I vibed so good while running away from a killer robot. Sounded like running against steel and metal. Perfect. I WAS PEEVED AT HIS ACTUAL FIGHT THOUGH. He tested my patience so badly with his stupid recharging ball of light whenever I missed him throttle the robot NOW, NOW!!!

Uh that's all I don't wanna make this too long. If you got this far reading this I reward you with another Starlo doodle. I gave him big ahh hands bc he's a farmer so👍 Uh. I hope you don't die tonight. Stay hydrated um idk

#starlo uty #undertale yellow starlo #ceroba #ceroba ketsukane #both staroba and uh corn yaoi i think its called are so mwah #is there a different name for StarloxDalv just curious #uty axis #my art <3 #my art #fanart #undertale yellow #undertale piss lmfao #get starlo out of my house and out of my head NOW PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU #dont #do #idk #i hate myself/j

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ladystardust-thinks · 5 months

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you are in love - t.e.

taron egerton x fem!reader, fluff

request:

Hi hiii! Can I request a fluffly imagine w Taron Egerton where he's simping over the reader during an interview? Thank youu have a nice day!!!

a/n: Aloha! I'm scared of this fic not getting seen by the anon that requested it bc I thought I had kept another ask by them, were they talked about it being neutral, if possible, but turns out I deleted it (😭) so now I don't know if they see it. IF YOU DO PLS SEND ME AN ASK SAYING YOU SAW IT, I AM BEGING. Btw inspired by you are in love by taylor swift, I thought that was obvious though, kinda want to do a part 2 where you keep his shirt and he keeps his word, but it's just an idea

tags/warnings: not proofread at all, wrote it half-drunk idk if it's obvious lmao, language, mention of reader's hair, taron & reader swooning and dying and being obsessed with eachother, she/her pronouns, drinking, casual love confession, third and first person pov, i think that's all.

word count: no word count bc I was bored, but it's pretty long ig

dividers

"I think being unofficially adopted by Elton was inevitable on set. We've just recognised that only one could be the favourite."

She nods slowly and a grin forms on her face. Taron can't form more of a smile. His cheeks were in pain. Three minutes into the interview and still, not able to answer a question. That's a lie, actually. He could answer a lot of questions. What her favourite song is, the amount of summer fruit she eats in wintertime just because they look cute, the color her eyes have when she sits in front of the sun, every tiny little thing, but that'd be useless in a press tour.

His favourite questions though would be the ones he asked her. The ones about music. How much she relates to Vienna, the guitar solo from Killer Queen, what does she think of the cowboy like me lyrics. Anything she could talk about for hours, he could listen to for hours.

"My back hurts." She whispers to him during the commercial break he didn't realize they were in. "What?"

"My back hurts from carrying this interview. Say something. Otherwise I'm going to die the day Jimmy Fallon makes an interesting conversation point." She whisper-shouts and him.

"I mean it's pretty hard to be hated when you don't have a personality, isn't it?"

He shrugs and smiles at her.

"I feel bad, we're sitting here gossiping about our host. But yeah. True."

She giggles thinking of his joke again. He looks at her as he is trying to keep his smile from exploding. As if he'd laugh with all his teeth if he let go. He's looking at every part of her, his eyes following the curves of her hair, her cheeks with their smile lines, because of her wide beams throughout the years. His eyes going all over her, as if he was scanning her, as if he'd been memorising every little one of her characteristics.

"What's wrong with you today, did I turn into a ghost?" She asks him, smiling.

"What?" He laughs slightly.

"You look at me all the time with that dead fish face. As if you're constantly wondering about something."

"I wonder about a lot of things, I'm a very philosophical man."

"I'm pretty sure that's how Freud's mommy issues started."

"Stop it."

"You stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being so distracted."

"Only when you stop being so distracting."

"I know, I'm gorgeous but get your shit together."

"You are." He turns to look at her and smiles.

Stunned, she pauses a bit, pursing her lips together. As if she wasn't expecting the compliment. As if he didn't look captivated by every little move she made, the fidgeting of her hands or the twitch of her nose when she was confused. She also turns to look at him.

"Thank you." She lets out a breathy laugh.

"You don't look half bad. Actually, no. You don't look quarter bad! I don't even know if that makes sense, but it felt nice to say." She feels something newfound. Something hopeful and surprising all together. She wondered if he could see it in her eyes, though she hoped he couldn't because it felt vulnerable. She wasn't at ease, she was just delighted enough to only fly right over her safety net. Just in case.

***

As a person I have a lot of qualities, whether people would argue if they're good or bad, I did and they were a lot. Sadly, being patient is not one of them. I have to be distracted from everything at anytime and be constantly stimulated. Sitting down on a makeup and hair chair to be Laura's laboratory animal was one of these activities. One that could bore me very easily, but I also loves doing. It makes her happy to try new things and it makes me happy to see it.

Scrolling on tiktok, I land on a clip from last night's interview, with Taron.

'Currently needing someone to look at me like Taron Egerton looks at his co-stars',

read the caption.

"You're a lucky ass girl." Laura howls seeing my screen from over my head.

I look up and grimace at her.

"You're invading my personal space."

"You are my best friend, I've been invading your personal space since we were 20 and you were crying in the bathroom of a bar because the little umbrellas the cocktails had were 'just too cute'. Get over yourself, he's as cute as the umbrellas, you were thinking it, I said it."

"I- Touché."

Is he?

I mean he's really nice and you'd probably call him charming. And he hears me, which not a lot of people do - including me - anytime i ramble on about... anything.

You could call him cute, yes. He can be funny aswell. It might be the british-ness, I'm not sure. Though, I do enjoy spending time with him.

He's also nice to look at. That sounds weird. He is objectively, and only objectively, really attractive.

"Laura." I say sternly and look up at her through the mirror.

"Mhm..." She's so nonchalant about this. I need some sympathy here!

"You think?" My eyebrows furrow and I tilt my head. I belive I was denying my thoughts more than I was questioning them.

"If you don't, I will. I guarantee you though, I won't be as successful." Her grin makes me frown in thought. At least this is going to be an interesting press tour, isn't it?

***

"I can't say something like that, she'd kill me."

"You smile like an idiot when she talks to you. If she were to kill you she would've already."

"I- I don't think I would mind. I mean, it's from her hands, at least I'd die a happy man."

Richard squints his eyes. "Yes... And you still can't find a way to say that. Uh-huh."

The backstage for their interview had an air, heavier than it needs to be for Taron to process. Variety interview, press event, after-party. That was the schedule for the day, as of 5 minutes prior. Five minutes, in which he felt actually, relaxed. All until we had to shove a 'Confess your immortal passionate love to your co-star (bonus points if she doesn't hate you)' in the To-Do list. Taron thought Richard might, could, maybe, possibly, ever in a million years, be a bit of help.

But he wasn't, he was just being a dick about it, no pun intended. 'Yeah, you're smitten mate.' as if he didn't know that! He didn't need a doctor's diagnosis to tell him he was absolutely and utterly in love. What were the possibilities he wouldn't be? How could anyone not be? He hadn't ever met a more genuine and caring and generous and sweet person in Hollywood. No, fuck Hollywood, his life.

***

Entering the venue hurt him physically. At least that's what it felt like. You cannot judge him, if you had her waving at you from across the room with this wide smile you would've understood. He purses his lips into an upside-down smile he couldn't hold, he would never want to disappoint her like this, but he couldn't wave back of course. He thought he'd faint any moment if he moved. Right, fun. What was he supposed to do, ignore her? Avoid her? That might aswell hurt more. His breath hitched when she began walking over to him. What was wrong with him? He is a confident grown ass man, why does she make him act like that, how does she manage that? Why can she walk in and make the room shine? Why is she so genuinely funny and interesting? How can she be so talented, but at the same time so understanding of others. If it wasn't her Taron wanted to confess to, he'd ask her for advice.

"Thank god you're here! The music is boring, the food is bland and the people are so rich I can't even comprehend if they're talking about their yacht, their Oscar or their villa."

She clearly wasn't doing any better. "Need saving?" he teases and she finds herself chuckling. That's a sweet thought. A nice way to put it. Need a knight to save her from the absolute dread of boredom.

"Yes, Romeo."

"Romeo? I'm flattered."

"You shouldn't be, you die."

"I die in love."

"You die heartbroken, have you read it?"

"Under love's heavy burden do I sink."

"Very well delivered, congratulations."

"Thank you very much."

She smiles and sighes, he's so stupid, it's kind of adorable. What's even more stupid is how stupid he makes her feel. She feels like a fool when she can't come up with a sarcastic comment. She feels like a fool when she notices looking at her and can't even whisper, if ever utter a word. She just smiles. It's annoying.

"Well Romeo and Juliet is pretty fitting, considering you look like you just escaped straight out of some fairytale." He had to gather all his courage and make this compliment, but at least she liked it. No, she loved it. She adored it. It was so adorable, it was so nice. It's a compliment you see being said in books and movies. Made her feel gorgeous, like she was the only one in the room.

"I- Romeo and- Sorry. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, not a fairytale." She wasn't sure what else to say and what she did already was supposed to come out way more confident, it didn't. Obviously.

***

I’m not certain how we did so, but we ended up in the backyard of somebody, who knew somebody, who knew somebody who had cheap wine and a good taste in music, but we did. I had a drink in my hand and I was going off about something, but the conversation was changed soon enough. When Taron asked me, how the hell was I single. I looked at him. I squinted and sighed. "Why wouldn't I be? I mean I'm fun and pretty and famous, but who does commitment with a cat lady?! Who would want something long term? Pffft nobody."

I don't think I realised what I was whining on about until I heard him speak up. He said 'Me.' He really said me! It was so foolish, and I was so drunk, but he did say it.

"You."

"Me."

"You're funny."

"Only when I'm joking."

"Fuck. Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"No like, would you actually?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, probably.".

"That's- So you like me?"

"No, I don't think so."

"But-"

"I love you, I believe."

I was just looking at him. I could not function. I thought about the cost of being hospitalised for possible heart abnormalities and cardiac arrest. Saying me too seemed cheaper and more beneficial, so that was what I went with.

"Are you joking?" I let out a breathy laugh, thinking his concerns were ridiculous. "This whole time? Oh my god. I just wasted all this time."

"All this time of what?" He asks and I wonder, how could he not understand? It was so painfully obvious that I wanted him. I craved to hear his laugh and listen to him every day, 'til I would die.

"All this time of not being with you."

His mouth was left a bit agape, but I could see a smile being formed slowly. He just looked at me. With that stupid dead fish face he'd done at first. Laura's gonna love this.

"Could you do me a favour?" I look at him and chuckle.

"What is it?"

"Could you say it again?" I smile, tight lipped.

"I love you."

#taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton fluff #taron egerton x reader fluff #taron egerton x fem!reader

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theramusen · 2 months

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EVIL DOUBLED (FNAF AU)

This was sorta just for fun while I do school and what not! AU idea where Henry and William are BOTH evil and work together!

This screenshot redraw is what started it all!

Thats William’s remnant in there btw hes sorta michael-mode rn but theyre gonna put it back in him once theyre done posing all cool- He JUST survived being springlocked for the first time

Now lets get into ref sheets! (There will be a page break after and all lore/info about the au will be down there!)

OK SO!!! The au def is similar to canon a lot and so

The MAJOR plot changes would be:

-Will and Henry BOTH get springlocked

•this fucks over Cassidy and CC being in Fredbear already though, so to solve this issue Cassidy, CC, and Charlie, will all share the puppet.

-Henry now occupies Fredbear instead, and so we now get Springtrap and Beartrap.

-William does NOT have time for the wife murder subplot, so Mrs. Afton (Clara) gets to live fully, she replaces Henry now. Diving into the duo’s blueprints and creations so she can one day stop them. She works with Michael.

-Henry’s wife is ALIVE! Her name is Dorothy and she returns to Hurricane after receiving a call from Clara. She also becomes a Henry replacement.

-Because of Clara and Dorothy’s new role, the pizza sim speach is now WAY more female rage style. This is the wrath of scorn mothers. UCN will be 100000x worse.

-Oh and no disks- William tries to push them but Henry 100% shuts them down and thinks theyre dumb.

-So fnaf 4 is JUST cc’s dying nightmare and eventually michael DOES get gas drugged and sees the nightmares but thats NOT fnaf 4 thats just a bad trip!

-Also, with William not being able to run rampant with random robot murder (Henry keeps him in check) we DO see the base finale in pizza sim.

-When we get into help wanted, ar, security breach, and ruin that follows a SECOND plot line fully separate from the first, where we see a surge of copy-cat killers (this is where we get characters like Vanessa and Jeremy, and Gregory will also be a part of this, being the main villain in Ruin now bc the Mimic was never made)

-William and Henry are a good team here, mutual bond and gain.

-William is far more explosive and emotional, his drive coming from CC’s death sorta setting off a domino effect of underlying mental health issues. He just kinda loses it. This team gives him the delusion that he may one day see CC again.

-Henry is in it bc hes a capitalist. And hey, turns out unlike electricity, theres NO remnant bill. So making all his robots run on human souls is cheaper! He doesnt really care much about charlie after like 3 months of her being dead. He knows it was William. He doesn’t care.

GENETICS?!

yeah theres genetics-

not gonna draw out the punnet squares but the colors of the characters ARE genetic traits!

Henry’s grey is a rare recessive trait. So it was EXTREMELY unlikely to pass onto Charlie. Which it didnt.

Dorothy’s green is a common dominant trait, Charlie ended up green like her!

William and Clara are BOTH purples. William is a more blue-purple, Clara is a more red-purple (commonly mistaken for pink!)

Both purples are dominant traits, so it is a 50/50 with their offspring to produce a blue-purple or red-purple.

Michael and Elizabeth both ended up red-purple!

Michael is VERY red-purple, very much almost mistaken for pink like his mom.

Elizabeth is closer to true purple than michael, but still red-purple!

CC is the only afton child to end up blue-purple! If he hadnt died he wouldve ended up being Williams favorite child!

#fnaf #fnaf art #fnaf au #evil doubled au #evil doubled #art #digital art #au #ramu au #alternate universe #william afton #michael dont leave me here #michael afton #henry emily #fnaf characters #modified sprite forms #purple guy #silly #ok bye bye

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anawrites3 · 1 month

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I want someone (not me) to write a Bodyguard!Sladick fic - but in a very specific way (I'll probs end up writing this unless someone beats me to it (pls beat me to it someone, I can't commit to another WIP))

Basically, someone kills Bruce Wayne. And not because he's batman, but because he's rich af and refuses to sell his land in Gotham (bc yk, bro can't sell the fucking batcave and all his safe houses full of Batmerch). But no one knows who killed Bruce and why but they all believe it's because they found out Batman's identity and needed him out of the way for something.

21 year old Dick Grayson, who hasn't spoken to Bruce or had anything to do with the Batfam for two years, is asked to come back for Bruce's funeral and reading of the Will. Turns out, Bruce left everything - and I mean everything; cape and all - to Dick. Dick is now The Batman, the leader of the JL, the billionaire, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and also the legal guardian of not one, not two, but three kids. Jason and Tim was understandable, but Bruce never mentioned to Dick about having a kid with Talia al Ghul of all people. In all fairness, Damian was only dropped off at Bruce's feet two months ago. (Note that I'm fucking around with the Batboy's ages. Thus, Jason is 16 (bro died young), Tim is 14(bro was crazy stalking so young), and Damian in 9(bro is just young))

The killer, however, is still at large, and is now targeting Dick, the new Prince of Gotham, and his kids. But Batman (Dick) can't get involved just yet, the Batfam don't know what exactly the killers knows about them and Batman - it's too risky. But Dick can't just not do anything. So he calls the one person he knows will keep his family safe - for the right price, obvs.

Dick has money to play with and Slade loves a good game.

Basically they make a contract that issues Deathstroke as the bodyguard of the Grayson-Wayne Family until Bruce's killer is handled.

Only, Slade comes with his own baggage (aka a 9 yr old Rose Wilson) and Dick is stuck training (aka raising) another kid. But that's fine, because Slade ends up being less of Dick's bodyguard (let's face it, the kid can handle himself), and more of Dick's bodyguard-with-benefits/mentor/business partner/mental-support-bestie/drinking-buddy/private-chef/co-parent/stay-at-home-husband/love-of-his-life.

They get very domestic in this fic. And Slade has to wear a three-piece suit when following Dick around as he plays Gotham's Billion Dollar Prince and Dick can't stop riding him in the back of the Batmobile because Slade looks waaaaay too good in a suit.

But raising kids is hard, especially when you're 21. So Dick faces a lot of challenges in this fic - like his undead brother, Jason, trying to come to terms with Bruce dying right after they started to mend their relationship, and Tim who was just recently fired as Robin after one simple mistake, and his new rage at Bruce for that and dying (he refuses to believe his dead), and fuck - the nine year old assassin and grandson of Ra's al Ghul, Damian, who never truly had the pleasure (misfortune?) of knowing his father. Than there's Rose Wilson, who doesn't really know English all that well and is dealing with the trauma of watching her mother die before her.

So Dick has to really step up - as a business man, as a leader, as Batman, and as a father.

Luckily he's got Slade, who fuck's like he fights. It tuff that Dick is quickly falling in love with Slade, and Rose, who he can't help but see as his kid, too.

Oh I love this idea so much, its great!! I would love to read it as well ahaha and I might write something 👀👀 but it's a big project so I wouldn't be able to do the whole thing

But you can let me know if you have any fav/special scene in mind (or a few 😌) and I might write it. You can also check out my commission info if that's what you'd preffer and you're able to afford it!

I love bodyguard Slade stories, I'm a sucker for those honestly haha and I love how here he's protecting not only Dick but the whole family. And its just so delicious that Dick hasn't talked to Bruce in so long and now he's thrown back into his life- but Bruce is dead and Dick has to take on the mantle and help the city and raise three kids and keep them all alive and not go crazy and-

I love that you're making it even more messy and difficult for Dick by putting Rose in the middle of it too lmao. I can already imagine all the trouble the family would have together

Slade wearing a three piece is a sight and I don't blame Dick at all 🙈🙈 But seriously, I adore their relationship in this, it's so complex and complicated. I can imagine them bonding over some whisky when the kids are deep asleep and Dick getting frustrated with what his life is now and Slade just letting him cry while holding him close AGHH SO GOOD

Thank you for sharing! Again, its a great idea and I'd love to play with it a bit if you allow me 🤗💕

#anon #my reply #not my idea #sladick #dickstroke

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sam-rothstein · 6 months

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‼️ creep 2014 spoilers ‼️ everyone complaining abt aaron's actions being stupid is 1000% missing the point bc .

. bc knowing in retrospect that josef was fully actively plotting to kill aaron from the moment he saw him it becomes pointless to question and nitpick everything aaron did. bc like he literally never does anything that hurts his case. he's never in a position where josef couldn't/wouldn't kill him and then he did something stupid and then josef became able to kill him.

yeah sure aaron isn't just nice he's overly trusting and accommodating and gives josef the benefit of the doubt far beyond what he's earned, to the point where you kinda wonder how he's gotten this far in life. but on the other hand being empathetic and believing what others tell you abt themselves and trying to see the best in them is . generally a good thing and something that will make people value you . and for what it's worth it's this very quality that makes josef genuinely like aaron and a little hesitant+regretful abt actually killing him.

like 'it seemed stupid that you wouldn't look behind you. but then i realized you're a good person and believed i would do you no harm' you don't need to question aaron's behaviour at the end they. they do that for you in the movie. and so yeah it seems aaron goes to the lake believing that josef doesn't really intend to seriously harm him. maybe that belief wasn't totally rational based on what we've seen. but yknow on the one hand any of the people in your life could be plotting to harm you. and on the other hand our feelings and beliefs aren't based just on logical analysis of the evidence. like what i'm saying is

-on the one hand

aaron's only real 'mistake' is he goes to josef's house assuming josef is not a serial killer. and sure the job is a little sketchy but that's still a reasonable assumption. like the fact is, random strangers, creeps, people who have hurt you, they're all usually not serial killers. it doesn't pay, yknow basically all of the time, to assume that the people around you are serial killers. and this has already doomed aaron just as the film begins.

also like it's very easy to imagine a version of this movie where aaron takes way more safety precautions and i envision it being a more boring movie but i don't envision it being a movie that makes me feel safe and secure bc it's very easy to imagine him doing that and still dying. maybe his friends or the police end up with more evidence they could use to catch josef but that doesn't really help aaron. like it wouldn't be very useful if he had told someone where he was going or had them checking in with him but josef just murdered him as soon as he got there. but yknow josef doesn't murder him at the cabin at all. like you're left with the knowledge that josef was thinking abt killing aaron the entire time and could have killed him in pretty much any frame of the film and was just choosing not to bc it was more fun for him. so like this movie made me feel fuckin unsafe. the ending really puts it in perspective that like cautious or not if some rando decided they really wanted to kill you. they could. they could murder you anytime, anywhere. is it more likely josef's murdered dozens of the dumbest motherfuckers on earth or that he was able to kill them simply bc they didn't know in advance he was a serial killer. yeah josef wants to kill aaron back at the lake just as he likes toying with people and forming weird relationships with them before killing them and likes to have their interactions filmed but by the time josef's sending the last tape .. if aaron didn't come he probably would've just . broken into his house and murdered him anyway right.

(side note it's the exact same people complaining it doesn't make sense aaron would keep filming as he's answering the phone / trying to escape. ??? he was already filming it's literally more effort for him to turn the camera off than not also you're trapped with someone you've come to believe is dangerous why Wouldn't you keep filming?? like as a deterrent / so you at least have evidence if something does go down)

-on the other hand

where does aaron's belief in josef come from? this is not really a mystery. when we leave the cabin and start watching josef's videos on aaron's tv there is certainly this sense that aaron is not even nominally in control of the narrative anymore, this sense of like, this thing has come out of the woods and the darkness and followed aaron and yknow it's in his house now. might not have been intentional but aaron's yellow shirt in the first scene after the cabin reminded me of his car and the yellow door that's featured strangely prominently at the beginning too - like, we're travelling, we're entering a new house, aaron's house, aaron's own reality, this evil is inside aaron as well now.

aaron admits josef has gotten into his head. he groans 'i gotta stop thinking about this guy' more like josef's an off-limits crush than a stalker. indeed josef has gotten into his head more than he even realizes, in the sense that he believes the emotions josef expressed to him. as much as he believes josef could be dangerous, and despite the evidence he can't trust what josef says, he also believes josef's loneliness and pain and desire for connection. josef has gotten to him. and i don't find that terribly unrealistic bc as a viewer mark duplass gives an amazing performance and he's super fun to watch and ofc we're seeing the character in a different light than aaron is but josef Does kinda get to you. aaron is indeed stupid but also i do kinda understand why he didn't just run away and might've seen something to care abt in josef.

also imean to my mind aaron's actions are due not only to stupidity and empathy but Also his attraction to josef. however, random commenters and critics alike seem determined to ignore the sexual aspect of this movie even though it's not exactly subtext. well hopefully for josef's part it goes without saying. as for aaron... we see just as he does the way josef is pretty much coming onto him, the way josef loves him and really likes hugging him, that by the end of the day it's pretty clear josef has a sexual interest in him and that he openly expresses his romantic feelings in the tapes (he uses the word friendship but uh we know what kinda 'friend'ship he's talkin abt) - i think the easiness with which aaron accepts all this makes Way more sense if he's also bi and josef isn't totally off the table for him either. admittedly that's speculation and to speculate some more isn't it possible that even while being creeped out by it aaron likes that josef likes him? after all the movie starts with him half-joking about the client being an older woman who just wants a boy to give money and rubdowns to and in a way that's not so far off from what he gets... and ends with him going 'how can i not go he's so sad... you got me'... maybe aaron is drawn to josef bc josef appears to want him and to need the kinda emotional support he's apparently very willing to give. mark duplass even said as much in an interview which ikno is Not part of the movie But this interpretation doesn't seem more unlikely than aaron simply being the stupidest person to ever live to adulthood which is also just an assumption audiences are making.

in any case what is NOT speculation is that aaron decides things aren't over with him and josef Not bc josef sent him a video but rather bc he's having dreams abt him. i'm not so sure there's any peachfuzz in aaron there's probably no part of him that's a murderer but there is a part of him, perhaps subconscious, that's intrigued by josef's fucked up shit and is exploring putting himself within this weird, undoubtedly sexual, fetish framework that josef outlined for them at the cabin. josef's weird sexuality has gotten to aaron as well. iknowikno the author is dead and everything but it is actually inconceivable to me that the filmmakers didn't intend the two dream-sequence-descriptions to be read as attraction on aaron's part. like the second one do i even need to say. maybe they're also there to suggest that aaron has a feeling of complicity with/protectiveness towards josef and his weird wolf shit as well. this is clearly backed up by his call to the police where he says he wants to report 'a violent domestic incident and stalker.' not that he deserves to not be taken seriously but this is probably most of the reason the cops don't take him seriously bc it sounds like he's talking abt a guy he hooked up with. he could have said assault or kidnapping or anything but he said domestic incident. the only thing this term means to me and indeed the only relevant thing it means to google is violence within the home/within a relationship, usually between intimate partners. SO either he's thinking of josef as someone he potentially could be / is in a relationship with, maybe without even realizing it, or he wants to make what happened between him and josef sound less weird, make josef sound less predatory, kinda suggesting they were consensually hanging out instead of . josef luring him to a remote location and attempting to kidnap him. why doesn't he tell the cops he has video of josef? why does he immediately get defensive and hang up instead of trying to explain where he's coming from, which seems out of character for him? perhaps the stress of the moment, perhaps stupidity, or maybe, again even without realizing it, he doesn't want anyone else to see the tapes.

while i don't think aaron's feelings for josef affect his ultimate fate that much i also don't view it as totally incidental - these things make aaron more of a character in his own right, suggest an understandable motive for some of his actions and show that josef accomplishes his goal of insidiously getting into aaron's life and mind before killing him which itself adds another intriguing and unsettling dimension to the film . and it makes ya think. what if i somehow got killed for being horny for mark duplass in creep 2014.

#srry this turned into a fuckin essay CREEP DID SOMETHING TO ME GUYS #creep #creep 2014 #gay subtext

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holy-puckslibrary · 4 months

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here's a list of everything i published in the month of DECEMBER

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

━ see the special events below!

━ none this month!

━ FICMAS (tumblr)

˗ˏˋ THE MRS. CLAUSE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — NATE MACKINNON x claus!reader premise — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very pressing hidden clause in the job contract… cw — me getting way too into the lore of the council of legendary figures, reader is blinded by stress and nate is in lurrrvvv, and some mild angst wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ HOLIDATE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader premise — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays. cw — alcohol mention, jack being moody while luke and quinn are menaces, and reader and jack are idiots (in love, affectionate) wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ CANDY CANE GRAM ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — teacher!JEFF SKINNER x teacher!reader premise — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off? cw — me using jeff as an outlet for the degree in education i don’t use bc i would like to be financially stable, jeff and reader being sneaky sneaky, kiddos trying to play cupid, and my history major jumping out! wc — 2.4k

˗ˏˋ THE NANNY ON THE SHELF ˎˊ˗ ➤ series masterlist pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x reader premise — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. results are… questionable. cw — pre-relationship/pre-therapy erik being a dick and josie being sassy (if you can’t handle the heat, get outta the kitchen — looking @ you ej…) wc — 1.1k

˗ˏˋ TRADITION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing — dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader premise — it may not be the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition. cw — unspecified age gap (everyone's legal, dw), smokin' grass (oiud, a joint, mary jane, whichever term you want to use), 18+ content — innocence/corruption kink, adult language/dirty talk, sexual activity under the influence between two consenting adults, fingering (r), oral (r), slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected p in v + creampie (a very merry chrysler to you) wc — 4.4k

find more more holiday content ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

your fellow readers (and my lovely patrons) gifted you some spine-chilling spice this holiday season! be sure to thank them for their generosity when you get a chance <33

˗ˏˋ FARMER’S DAUGHTER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — foreman!JOSH ANDERSON x farmer’s daughter!reader premise — she’ll always remember the time she let her daddy's foreman soil her in the middle of his pasture… cw — backdoor play, costumes/roleplay (kinda sorta), + risky location/exhibitionism, implied age gap, outdated patriarchal beliefs, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight humilation kink, spit as lube, dacryphilia, slight overstim, unprotected p in v, possessive!josh x virgin!reader (outdated definition and beliefs here, too) and just general filth wc — 3.5k

˗ˏˋ BONER-KILLER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — camp counselor!JACK HUGHES x camp counselor!reader premise — no machetes, no hockey masks… at least, that’s what he promised. cw — a few jokes about death/dying and murder, rather short n tame ("vanilla") barely-there spice from me???, jack being a little shithead (and a little switchy omg), a smidge of angst, and spoopy ending… (kevin heimbach hive rise!) wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ NEW PERSPECTIVE ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — (soft)dark!stalker!QUINN HUGHES x grey!reader premise — in his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted… cw — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here! wc — 4k

˗ˏˋ LIVE DEMONSTRATION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) ➤ series masterlist pairing(s) — camboy!MITCH MARNER x camgirl!reader (+ some special guests) premise — their first performance with a live studio audience! cw — cameos…bc cameo lol, public sex (a literal audience), unprotected boinking + creampie, some reach-around finger-bang action, unprotected coitus + cum play bc mitchy is nasty, praise kink influencer!mitch — "content, baby, content!" (name that vlogger lol), brief past phone sex (kinda? idk you'll see), discussion of sex work and the selling of items wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ A PEARL ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — captain!ERIK KARLSSON x reader premise — its the rum talking… or is it? cw — stranger sex and CMNF, 18th century purity culture and oral (f receiving) wc — 600 (preview of my POTC au)

find more spooky content ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

━ WHAT I POSTED ON PATREON

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — firefighter!QUINN HUGHES x reader premise — over a decade ago, jack hughes broke her little sister’s heart. out of loyalty, she hasn’t spoken to his elder brother, quinn hughes, since. the holiday season is brimming with miracles; will a mended bridge make the list this year? cw — angst with a fluffy ending, quinn and the reader being overprotective idiots, named sister!oc (for the reader), kinda non-linear timeline, and less dialogue from me than usual wc — 2.7k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — baker!NICO HISCHIER x wedding planner!reader premise — nico, the owner of the most sought-after bakery in town, has always had a crush on the reader, an equally popular wedding planner in the area. never more than acquaintances, they still bonded over a shared love of sweetening memories for their special clients. without words, he can tell something is different this time – something is wrong. something happened last christmas; can nico save her from tears this year? cw — angst, mention of infidelity (not on or by nico), a failed engagement and some scrooge-esque pessimism, and some tooth-rotting, cliché fluff! wc — 1.6k

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — MICHAEL BERZATTO (fx’s the bear) x reader premise — he should be at the celebrating, but he isn’t. he was, but not anymore. not after she called. instead, he’s playing… knight in shining sleigh for his kid brother’s childhood playmate. there’s only one way for this night to end… and it won’t land either of them on the nice list this year… cw — unreliable narrator + self-deprecation, age gap, non-canon timeline for the bear (because i don't want to do math lol), mention of reader x ritchie and implied past carmie x reader, alcohol, a lot of degradation, thigh riding / dry humping, orgasm denial, spit play, unhealthy people in an unhealthy non-relationship relationship, a pinch of misogyny, slight impact play, and slight inappropriate use of a santa costume… wc — 2.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ˎˊ˗ (social media au) pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader; jack hughes x olivia rodrigo (iykyk); COLE CAUFIELD x reader premise — inspired by the song of the same name off of sab’s fruitcake ep cw — mention of cheating, me villianizing jack a wee bit, well-deserved cole love, and me having too much fun with famous!reader

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x nanny!reader ➤ series masterlist premise — (set before the main story) every member of the johnson household loves christmas. all but the patriarch, whose heart seems to be two sizes too small. there is one person, however, who might put things right… cw — too much time in grinch!erik’s head, erik being a douche canoe for no reason and mopey because he’s emotionally constipated, alarming lack of josie and reese, and mel stirring the pot wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ (𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN (tg: maverick) x bradshaw!reader premise — a christmas miracle is orchestrated by the one person she least expects. cw — a cheesy nickname, mention of candy, an only child writing sibling banter, me not being over goose’s death (that i’ve only seen once because i physically can't experience that again), a smidge of angst followed by tooth-rotting fluff, a wee bit suggestive at the end, and my inability to keep a story contained to one upload wc — 1.8k

˗ˏˋ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — professor!SIDNEY CROSBY x TA / grad student!reader premise — red lips, green envy. cw — nameless biotches trying to steal our man!! power imbalance, secret situationship, references to sex but nothing descriptive, and angst angst angst but some fluff for good measure too, some oc deets added to the reader (nothing physical) for story purposes, and insecurity being a bitch but sid is so words of affirmation slay <3 wc — 2.3k new au verse coming soon!

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader premise — during an island getaway, festive fury brings unspoken truths to the surface. cw — white people vacationing in hawai’i, mention of alcohol and liquid courage, reference to (past) underage drinking and (past) sex between consenting minors, mention of elementary age-bully, matty being a jealous, elitist douche via inner monologue and a loser-boy via sudden on-set of foot-in-mouth disease (very dangerous — stay safe out there, y’all!), reference to virginity / a lil slut-shaming, angst with a fluffy, suggestive ending wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐘 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — grinch!JAMIE DRYSDALE x martha may!reader premise — jamie hates christmas, but it may just all be a misunderstanding. cw — jamie being a passive aggressive baby because he's emotionally constipated, references to childhood bullying, emotional cheating / physical cheating (not on jamie or the reader, brief and kinda wholesome), jamie smoking a cig bc ~stressed~ (and a lack of healthy coping skills), mention of blood/violence (super brief), and references to an angel tree topper but no religion or religious components wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — single dad!MATT MARTIN x ballerina!reader premise — its the first role many young ballerinas aspire toward, and matt’s daughter is no different. however, matt has different aspirations for this season’s sugar plum fairy… cw — an age gap (unspecified, but mentioned), naughty things in a risky and wholesome location, me caring too much about stage costumes, non-hockey playin’ matt (implied), unprotected p in v coitus, and matt being a dirty simpy dog for his kid’s favorite person wc — 1.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖! ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JOE BURROW x reader premise — an unexpected road trip with his best friend’s little sister becomes a bit more than joe bargained for—in the best way possible. cw — insensitive comment about concussions, awkward!joe 🤍's the reader, + reader has a fear of storms and an overprotective brother wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — JEREMY SWAYMAN x reader premise — his california girl has never seen snow. this isn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she's not complaining… cw — this is straight-up p*rn. cum sharing/cum play, unprotected anal sex + ass eating from the back🙊, manhandling (affectionate), bondage via ribbon, spitting <3, minor objectification + minor discussion of injury, hints of overstim, personification of body parts, and dom!sway being a downright filthy menace ass man with a condescending potty mouth (pun not intended, but funny nonetheless) wc — 1.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; background trevor x the boys; slight jamie x mason premise — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving? cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 & 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — movie!MIKE SCHMIDT (fnaf) x reader premise — mike has something very specific on his list this christmas. cw — slight festive roleplay, breeding kink to the max (with the explicit intention of getting her knocked tf up), mike being obsessed with tits (and having a raging lactation kink), nipple play, dry humping & domestic dirty talk, no p in v (happens off-page/screen), mention of a past pregnancy scare, me wanting abby to be happy with every fiber of my being, and potential FNAF spoilers (honestly, not really) wc — 2.5k

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