nct as horny bfs
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
warnings: pure smut lol
authors note: this lowkey took a while 🍷 but here it is ig! as our first post here’s a taste for all ;) ty for reading!! 💗 ≽^•⩊•^≼
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
TAEIL usually gets horny in the morning, but he’s not the one waking up first. ever since he admitted to you that he likes when u suck him dry in the morning you’ve been doing it since. plus the sounds he makes are always better in the morning when his beautiful voice is a little raspy and tired and not quite settled yet. fuck he loves the way your throat feels around him, and the way your tongue swirls around him with your slow moves makes him moan louder, not caring if other members hear because he claims; “i’m older than them, they shouldn’t be fazed if i’m with my girl”. but that’s not the only time he’s horny. he can’t help himself whenever you wear tight tops with your cleavage out and bra peeping out a bit, he gets even more stressed when he sees you wearing his favorite bra. “baby you look so good, can i see them without the bra now?'' It's like an invitation for him to suck, eat, and play with you for as long as he wants (which is usually a longgg time). when he gets close, your hands go straight to where you know makes him feel good like his hair, tugging on it making him let out pretty moans. “augh~ baby, m gonna cum”. and when he lets out his pretty white stripes from him he asks you to eat some of it for him. “baby can you clean it a little please? you look so pretty eating me…” and his eyes are pleading with more lust than before.
JOHNNY this little shit figures it out fast. he’s pretty damn smart and very observant so anytime you came to watch a practice he would see how your thighs pressed together, or the way your breath hitched anytime he touched you can and will tease the ever living shit out of you with this information. back hugs are mandatory, at least once a day now, just so he can subtly press his hips against you refuses to fuck you anywhere the two of you can get caught not because he’s worried about getting caught, no he just loves to get you all flustered and then leave you to deal with it until you get home. he makes up for it every time though. stamina? high af tbh i’m talking like 6-7 rounds before he’s done for the night if necessary loves eating you out too, he could do that for hours and doesn’t even care about how much his jaw hurts because the sounds you make are just too pretty for him to stop. it’d be a sin if he gets you too horny in public and you’re wearing a skirt or dress, he’ll get the two of you somewhere crowded and slide his fingers into you just to see how quiet you can be. he feels blessed that you’re so horny all the time because he’s nearly insatiable himself tbh.
TAEYONG is exactly the kind of guy to take over an hour making you desperate and horny for him, enjoying the view of your sensitive body squirming beneath him, craving some kind of release. seeing you like that for him, all just with his words and the occasional well placed hands, boosts his ego to no end, as well as making him literally rock hard. and the sounds you make when you're a hot, horny mess~ lord, he wants to record them on his phone and play them back full volume when he jacks off. honestly, he just wants to record you in general. take a video of you mewling for him. maybe snap a pic from above of you with your top pulled up over your tits, nipples hard, thighs pressing together, and with the most desperate look on your face while he’s with the other members.
YUTA surprisingly doesn’t make it clear enough that he’s horny. it’s almost like he doesn’t give enough of a hint for you to figure it out, or at least that’s what he thinks. you get it, he’s horny, so you take your time making him finally spill out that he wants you to pump his aching cock. and when you do good lord does he praise you. like “fuck princess so good for me”, “shit don’t stop- faster peach, faster” and “take your tits out for me- fuck! so beautiful”. he loves praising you because he knows how much it turns you on. rubbing your thighs in response just gets you wet enough for him to finally lift you (once he’s covered your tits in his cum) and onto the bed where he slips into you so easily, so wet and ready for him. he can be like this for the rest of the day but he’s always so busy that whenever he cums for you, good lord is it a lot. “fuck- look princess, look how much you made me keep inside me. poor me huh baby? cmon one more time let me fuck you” and he always says it so politely you just can’t say no. several rounds later is when he finally stops and admires the work of art on your body, cum everywhere. and one of his favorite things to do is grab his cum and let you lick it off his fingers, eyes teary.
KUN when he feels so tense and pressured gives you many reasons to feel anxious. because you know his favorite way to relieve all that stress is to use your pretty little mouth. He loves the way you lick his big cock with your much smaller tongue. licking the tip gently to tease him and taking him all down making him throw his head back, groaning with heavy breaths. when he’s getting close, you swallow around him, making your throat close tight around him. fuck he loves when you do this, and when he cums he pumps it all over your face. taking a picture when he’s done with you. this led him to obtaining a whole collection of your face, and parts of your body, with his cum, red marks, spit and other things he finds so sexy on you. Whenever you’re away and he doesn’t have you to make him feel better, he gets off at these photos (and videos) and he sends you a photo of the aftermath knowing you’ll send him something back to make him go for round two. eventually his phone rings from you and well, he answers with his cock on display, still aching and covered in cum. these calls are definitely your favorite with him…
DOYOUNG gets really shy when you start being intimate with him, but he really loves it. so much so that when you ask him if there’s anything you can do for him after a concert, he says “mm… there’s this one thing but it’s okay i’ll just go to sleep”. he always does this though and at this point it doesn’t faze you. you get up and straddle him on the bed, hands flying to take off his clothes. “w-what?” he asks stupidly. but you say nothing. he can feel him squirm around you as he doesn’t know where to put his hands. at one point you’re the one pumping his dick, licking his tip and riding him, moaning out of control and cum leaking from him. but before you know it you’re on all fours for him begging and pleading for him to fuck you harder, he fucks deep into you, making you clench the sheets with your hands. “can anyone fuck you this good princess? hmm??”. you can’t even let out a yes or no as you moan and cry into the mattress beneath you. but beside being in the bedroom and in private, he also tends to appreciate you in places like restaurant bathrooms and empty practice rooms, glancing from time to time at the door preparing for someone to walk in. he loves the way it’s so quick, so heated and steamy as he pumps his digits in your soaking cunt, leaving you to moan and whine as he does so (which ultimately makes him moan and whine with you). you end up squirting on his wet fingers as the room fills up with your heavy breaths, then both of you rush to get out of there.
TEN was pressed against the after you pushed him onto it. locking the door before you even thought of touching him. his shirt was pulled off as you kissed down his neck, your tongue occasionally lapping at the soft skin which sent shivers down his spine and his hands clutching to your shoulders in an attempt to ground himself. once getting to his chest, you noticed his puffy and pink nipples poking out, the small little buds enticing you so you just had to give one of them a kitty licks, loving how he would jolt with every wet touch them and let out small squeaks in embarrassment. his hands went up to your hair and gently tugged on the soft strands while whimpering for you to stop, fearing they would get swollen and hurt but you showed no care as you mercilessly sucked and licked them like they were candy, moaning at how responsive his body was with every touch to the little buds. looking up through your eyelashes, you made eye contact as you grazed your teeth against the aroused bud which made one eye closed as a shot of pain tingled across his chest but it only made his dick twitch. "b-babe.." he panted softly, hands leaving your hair to try to push you off but you only held his push against you, not leaving any room for him to escape. pulling away, a string of saliva attached to his nipple to your mouth made him gulp, "yes, baby?" you purred, tongue licking at the perky nipple which made him whine. "can you take off my pants and touch me, please?" he asked, his voice soft and whiny. “of course my love” you smiled before placing a kiss to his nose then unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down to see he wasn't wearing underwear~
JAEHYUN dirty talk. that voice. i think y'all know what I'm talking about literally orgasmic. it's so deep, and smooth, and relaxing in a way that just gets you going. there's just something about it that makes you rub your thighs together. when he presses his lips close to your ear, his voice feels like he's caressing you all over, yes all over. you basically get high off his voice. cloud nine. he absolutely loves to talk dirty to you, telling you exactly what he's going to do to you, how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock, or how you're taking him inside you so well. he's got a knack for choosing exactly the right words, and it gets your pussy dripping and aching for him. he always says about how your pussy feels like it was made for his cock it fits so snug. loose enough that he can fuck you whenever, but tight enough that he has to work for it. but the dirty talk doesn't stop there. he uses that voice of his and those delicious words to drive you closer to your climax, his words getting cruder as his hips get sloppier, praising you to no end. he's not shy about what he thinks. he's incredibly straightforward about it. you're making him fucking horny? he'll tell you. you’re pussy is the best he's ever fucked? he'll tell you flat out while he's pounding into you. he thinks you look beautiful stuffed with his cock? he won't even hesitate. communication IS key isn’t it?
WINWIN doesn't ever tell you he's horny, instead he insists on watching a movie with you. but under the blanket, around 20 minutes into the movie, he brushes his hands against your thighs, inching closer to your pussy. you know what he's doing, but you let him. “baby…can you do me a favor” is what he says before you drop down to your knees on the floor and pull the blanket off him. you want him as much as he wants you. you make sure to suck him just right, I mean you've done this countless times, so you know how he likes it. he can't help but moan for you, letting out pretty noises that go straight to your core. he fists the blanket and sofa beside him, trying his best to not just fuck your mouth right there and then. eventually he cant take it anymore, standing up to fuck your pretty little mouth, making you gag as you take in his lengthy cock. “fuck babe- feels so good!!” he moans. you would reply, but your mouth is stuffed with his cock, twitching in your mouth signaling he's gonna cum. he cums deep far into your throat, telling you to say “ah” so he can see you swallowed it. winwin also can't help but drag you back onto the couch, fisting your hair and telling you “can you take me all?”. you look up at him with glossy eyes and he bites his lip. he flips you over and starts ramming into you. talkin bout “fuck- taking me so good baby” and “you like when i stuff you? when all you feel is my cock in you, making you feel so good?” he mocks at you. he knows you can't even speak right now because all you're doing is moaning into the pillow. he even laughs a little, seeing you take him down your best, just for him.
JUNGWOO is your sugar daddy. his life goal is to spoil and please you in a way nobody can ever do. he is currently in a meeting, but one of the black cards he gave you isn't working and he isn't answering your messages.. you start getting whiney and stomp to the meeting room not caring about all the other people in there. you slam the card in front of him “it's not working daddy!” you puff, he smirks and pulls you on top of his lap and continues the meeting. occasionally he kisses your neck. you whine and sigh moving around his lap trying to escape. “"hmm? what's the problem, kitten?" jungwoo replies as he continues to kiss your neck while talking to the people in the meeting, acting like nothings wrong. you sigh, getting more impatient, continuing to escape. as you continue to move you feel something hard under you.. you know exactly what it is. you look up at him with your glossy eyes and he looks at you smirking. you continue to move to try and tease him. you feel his chest rise up and down, soon enough you feel your mini skirt get pushed up under the table, his fingers moving your panties. you bite your lip as your wet pussy drips onto the floor on his shiny black shoes. you feel his middle finger pump into your sweet hole. you moan loudly causing everybody in the room to look at you, jungwoo looks down at you smirking “what's wrong kitten? everything good?” he teases “y-yes sorry daddy…” you mumble and moan softly. you whine quietly as he pulls his finger away waiting for the meeting to end. “shh my precious baby. we’ll continue this when we get home, be a good girl for daddy and let him finish this meeting and I'll make you squirt, kay~?”.
MARK comes back from practice hot and tired, and he can't help but think of laying down with you, pleasuring you. you'll be in your room, or the living room when he comes and lays next to you, desperately separating your legs. “baby, please” is all he says before you agree to him. he dives right in, lapping at your wet cunt, sucking a little when he feels your hands in his arm. “mmm” he groans into you, sending shivers through your body. he praises you as it makes him feel better, knowing he's making you feel so good. “such a pretty cunt, just for me” “gosh princess, you're soaking..” “taste so sweet…could be here all night long” is what he says to you. he loves looking into your eyes and seeing how your eyelids flutter with his every movement. when you cum, he offers for you to cum on his face (so he could take a picture and save it for himself). he dips his finger into it and tastes it, giving you puppy eyes as he thanks you. mark also gets riled up when he takes you out to go shopping, visiting cute shops. of course you insist on taking him with you to the fitting rooms, where you dress up in cute short skirts and ask what he thinks about them. “damn babe- he says as he cocks his head and stares at you up and down, rethinking if he should've let you wear that in front of him in the first place. you notice his hard cock as he hides it with his hands. “babe- I think we should..” he says before you change back and purchase the skirt. you guys are back home when mark immediately goes to the couch with his hands on the back of the couch behind him. you follow him there before undressing for him. “is this what you want?...” you tease him as you widen his legs apart, standing between them. he basically drools at the sight in front of him. “... you want me with nothing on? is that it?” you say. he feels like he's in a dream. you plop down on the floor, taking his hard cock in your mouth, licking it lightly just to tease him. “augh!!” he whines “please baby, suck it please. i need you so bad…” he's looking at you with those eyes as you give into his requests, sitting on his lap, and taking him all in.
XIAOJUN is near the end of his shower when your in your short pajama shorts and tank top lying on the bed. the aroma of gentle citrus fills the air as he meets you at the end of the bed, gazing at you as he’s in nothing but his briefs on. as he climbs on top of you, he’s whispering to you how much he wants you, no, how badly he needs you. he says he’s had a rough day and that u can help him. so you do. you lay on your back as he caressed your face before kissing your cheek sayin “thank u.” and that’s when he sticks his dick in your mouth. fucking your sweet mouth as he can’t help but moan out how good it feels. “oh my god… so so good my sweet girl. thank u, thank u”. hearing this you can’t help but start to touch yourself, how could you not. you close your eyes and just let the sweet sounds coming out his mouth fill ur ears, it so addicting, the way he can’t just shut up. and here you are, subtly crying and whimpering as he fucks into your mouth faster and faster, deeper and deeper. you think it can’t get better but it does. “let me do it for u my sweet princess…” is what he says before stuffing his fingers into your cunt, fingers slipping with ease as you and him come closer to your high. “let it out baby…” he says as you cum and he quickly takes his dick out your mouth and paints his cum on your pretty tits. “thank u, felt so good baby thank u”.
HENDERY loves imagining what he’ll do to you throughout the day then see you back at home looking all pretty for him. he’ll text you while he’s out about some shit like “make no plans tonight!” or “can we stay in tonight?” just so he can have the excuse to fuck you til you feel like you can’t walk. and on the days where he doesn’t come up with an excuse, he’s usually really flirty throughout the day, telling you how beautiful you are, how your outfit is cute…how you’re making him feel so stiff. you take him to the nearest empty room wherever you guys are. he immediately kisses you heatedly, pulling down his pants, cock so hard cause he knows you want him too. as you touch his cock, his tip aches, dripping precum and you’re barely doing anything yet. he’s groaning loudly like he wants to be caught, so you give him a slap and it tunes him down, but his cock just gets harder. by the time you guys are done, his mess is basically everywhere. all over you, the floor, himself.
RENJUN cant take it anymore when he sees you in the kitchen after dinner time, in those short shorts and your loose off the shoulder tee. you're bending down when he inhales sharply before getting up from the sofa and grabbing your hips. “yes renjun?” you say confused. “c'mere” he sighs, pinning you against the counter. you already know where this is going, but you want to make him beg for it. he touches your waist, looking you in the eyes, “touch me please…it hurts…”. before you can say anything he whines, hugging your waist as closely as he can to you. you reach around him, tugging at his hair. “mmmh..” he moans lightly. “please…” he says again. he drops down to his knees, pulling at your shorts, kissing your thighs as you feel the hotness of his breath, lips, and everything on you. you tug your panties down and he immediately dives into you, sucking on your wetness as he can't stop moaning from it. and you can feel him pathetically humping at your leg, going faster the more he sucks. you yank his head back away as his lips and chin are all wet, drool spilling from his mouth as he breathes hard. “want mommy to help?” you say as he instantly nods his head getting up to stand. at once you pull down his shorts and boxers, slipping his dick in between your thighs. he bucks his hips back and forth fucking your thighs. he cums all over your legs, giving you something to clean up. renjun also gets horny when he's laying in your lap while watching tv, and his view is well, your boobs and cant help but touch them over your shirt, signaling you to take it off. you do as he pleases because you love when he gets like this. he licks and sucks on your boobs as the pleasure hits you, making him love the way you grab onto him. onto his hair, arms, face, everything you can get your hands on. just know if you ever make him feel good, he’ll always return the favor.
JENO wakes up hungry. his dick hard from the recent dream he had about you. he shakes you to tell you, but you're asleep. he feels bad to fuck you when you are sleeping and dreaming so peacefully. he can't bring himself to do it, so he goes into the bathroom and pumps himself. but, he’s imagining it's you, which makes him moan your name softly. you're half asleep when you hear him calling your name. “f-f-fuck…y/n…” he would whine out. “jeno?” you answered him, you hear noises but not your name again. you get up and when you push the bathroom door open, boy is it a sight to see. he's holding his pajama shirt between his teeth, his abs fully exposed, body glistening a little from his sweat. his head is thrown back as one hand grips the counter, and the other holds his cock, tip red and leaking his pearly cum. he's so hard that he had to jack himself off again. and the way he has his glasses on makes you bite your lip as you sneakily walk in while his eyes are closed. you drop down, taking his tip in your mouth. he moans loudly now, knowing he's not gonna wake you up this time. you let go of his hips, giving him the signal to fuck your mouth, so he does, hands gripping your hair as he lets out few groans, breath heavy and panting as he cums in your mouth. jeno also loves getting right behind you while you're washing the dishes or doing something around the house. he loves grabbing your ass and massaging it while he kisses your neck from behind. you drop whatever you're doing because you know how good he makes you feel when he's sucking your wet cunt. lapping at it until you're overstimulated because he just can't get enough. and he forgets about how you must feel because he’s pretty much addicted to your pussy, eating away as his hand plays with your clit. at this point you feel like you can’t even stand anymore, whining at him “please- can't…” but he wants to see you undo just one more time.
HAECHAN is a bratty disobedient sub who LOVES to be punished. whatever rules you have for him, he breaks them and watches with a sly grin as you get annoyed because he knows he's in for a punishment that night. he wants you to absolutely break him and make him cry. dumb him down until he can't think or speak properly anymore, only choked out pleas and moans coming from him. he loves it when you spank him. have him count the spanks and of course he would purposefully mess up right at the end to rile you up so that he could start all over again. he could easily get hard from a couple spanks to his ass and he'll shamelessly cum all over your legs and his chest with a mewl. oh and he loves edging! edge him over and over again till he cries and begs you to stop and let him cum but don't since you know he's faking it. keep edging him until you finally let him cum but don't stop there! keep making him cum till he's overstimulated and his mind has turned to mush. “y-y/n! aah~!! im sorry m-“ before he could finish he slurred sentence you pulled his hair back making him face you. you spit in his mouth and make him swallow it. you could tell he was all fucked out as his eyes were fluttering and all he could do was moan your name. He knew he fucked up. he knew you weren’t even CLOSE to being done punishing him. but did he regret it?
nope~
JAEMIN loves treating you like the princess you are, he’ll do whatever you want him to do whenever. you’ll be out at dinner with friends when you grip his thigh to let him know you want him to fuck the shut out of you. and that’s when you end up in a nearby hotel, fucking in the bed, the shower, even the balcony. he pounds you so good, slapping your ass to take his big cock that you so badly wanted. “such a good girl, taking my cock like a pretty princess” he says while you’re a moaning mess. he would take a pic when you guys are finished, showing your leaking cum and his red tip in the frame (prob gonna jack off to it another time). and boy does he get jealous easily. when you guys are at parties and he sees you taking to another guy he’ll text you shit like, “does he fuck u good?” or “keep talking to him and i’ll fuck u extra hard tonight” and that’s exactly what he does. “jae-“ is all you can get out of you while your body is getting overstimulated by him. “you asked for it, so take it like the slut you are” he says while pounding his cock into you, pressing your body harder into the mattress, reaching your g spot over and over again. and when he cums, he paints your face, tits, ass with it and makes you lick it off his dick because you're his, but that just riles him up for another round. each time he gets rougher and harder, but when it’s over he spoils you like a mf. “do you need anything my love?”, “i’m sorry princess,” he says while kissing you everywhere, “you just feel so good cant help it”. the remainder of the night he’s massaging, kissing your body, and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
YANGYANG and you are hanging out one day playing video games at his place when you guys both decide you're heading to bed. as he’s changing in his room, you walk in unknowingly, seeing him shirtless with his pajama pants. “oh I'm sorry!” you say expecting him to put a shirt on. when you turn back around he’s still shirtless…and staring at you. “yangyang…” you say and you stare at his bare torso, looking at the way his v-line is going so, so, low. you then realize that he’s pulling his pants down. “will you help me sweetheart?” he asks as his thick cock is now in your sight. he tilts his head to the side as you step closer, you bite your lip as you look at his hard, then at him. “go on, suck.” he orders. there’s no way you can’t listen to him right now. the way that he’s smiling and biting his lip, and how he’s combing your hair back already, and how he’s moaning as you take him into your mouth. “f-fuck baby!!” he gasps, not expecting you to take him all down like that. he also likes waking you up, getting in between your legs while you slowly wake up to him eating you out. “yangyang!” you moan as he pushes two fingers into you. “gonna take my fingers then my cock right princess?” he says. you nod your head, pulling at his hair as he pushes three fingers in now. your moans spill out as you cum onto his fingers. “good job sweetheart...” he praises you. “can you take my cock now?” he asks as he taps it on your stomach, biting his lip before asking, “you think it’ll fit?” your face gets hot at this. you look down to see how big he really is. “yes, please fuck me…” you beg. and so he does, ramming into your tight cunt, holding down your wrists beside you to stop you from moving so much. you feel the way he’s twitching in you and he sees the way your back is arching. “cum my sweetheart, let me fill you up.��� he says as he lets out a final long moan, each other's cum spilling out of you.
CHENLE is always desperate as ever to please you…and to see how easily he can fall into your touch. always saying pathetic words to you like “please…want u to touch me”, and he says it so softly, stroking your fingers. you nod your head as he smoothly lifts his shirt up, revealing his bare chest to you. he loves being like this, under your touch knowing you like seeing him all helpless and soft. you kiss him teasingly, biting his bottom lip a bit, fingers trailing from his upper torso to his hardened cock. “mm~ want you to play with me so bad…” is all he says before you slide down his pants, fisting his cock, putting the tip in your mouth. he doesn’t last long until he cums on your lips, bringing you back onto his, tasting his own cum. chenle also gets riled up at night. he's trying to go to sleep, but he keeps inching closer to your body. he rubs his hard dick against you, head snuggled in the blanket a bit almost embarrassed. in response you turn over, seeing his face. so beautiful and all tense. eyes shut as his mouth hangs a little open, breathing harder than normally, even hearing little whines. “what do you need my lele?” you ask him. He doesn’t say anything, just brings your hips onto his lap, moving you so you're grinding against his cock. he moans loudly. you pull down his pajama pants and pull your panties to the side, sinking on his cock slowly. you fuck your self onto him, giving it to him good since he’s been good all day. and at this point he’s moaning so much. “such a good boy right my lele?” “doing so good for me hm? gonna fuck you again and again since you want it so bad” is what you say to him as he loudly whines, even tears run down his pretty little face, preparing himself for that overstimulation he’ll feel all night long.
JISUNG is content however you would like to have sex. you want it kinky? he’ll do whatever you ask for. you just want it vanilla? fine with him :)! however you want it he’s fine with it! you guys were currently making out on the couch when you felt his hand squeeze your neck slightly, giving you a signal he needs you. a minute later you're on all fours. lapping at his dick, tracing his veins, kissing the tip, literally anything to make him feel good. “fuck this.” he says as he turns your body around to pound into you. “fuck jisung!!” you let out. “m sorry…” he says as he slowly pumps into you, almost to tease you. “…i can't help it when your so tight for me, just for me.” then he’s really pounding into you. roughly like he’ll never get the chance to fuck you stupid like this again. hes fucking into your cunt faster and faster, he slaps your ass as he throws his head back, letting out a long groan. “all mine.” he says as he lifts your upper body so it’s against his chest. he holds you by your throat as he fucks into you deeper. as one hand is around your throat, the others flicking at your clit, rubbing it quickly. as your body becomes more tired and fucked out, your eyes begin closing, tears rolling down your cheeks as he lets you down, slapping your ass again before giving one last deep pound into you. “m gonna cum, okay?” he doesn’t even bother to wait for a response. he cums into you before watching as both your cum drips down your folds. “mine”.
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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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