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#danny johnson x reader
dilophosauridae455 · 2 days
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Small bits of a Danny and Leon comic I was doin...
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nothomegal · 8 hours
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So with the little oni April fools thing in dbd it had me thinking about the other killers with their favorite survivor turned tiny and I had a few thoughts with Danny, like him calling us Doll, Tiny, Bunny, Bite Sized etc. Him just carrying us around and holding us so close and tight like a toy, him saying how cute we are and how he could just eat us up. Meanwhile reader might pass out from fear or lack of oxygen from cuddles
This was an interesting ask, and it was pretty fun to think what could I do about it. Thank you anon!
And since I really liked all the little examples provided, I instead drew a little compilation rather than a single scene! ^^
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Now they're scared of what the Entity has planned for the next April fools...
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toxicanonymity · 7 months
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EVERY INCH 3.
4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2
SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge. A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot. WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.
You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him.  There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one. 
Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you?  You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock. 
You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while.  He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves.  He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather.  What a pretty pussy you are. Meow.  He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time. 
You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator.  Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin.  He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number.  You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything.  Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?
Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first.  It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy. 
"Mmm, good kitty."
"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too. 
"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."
"Is your cock all you think about?"
He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?" 
You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.  
"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy."  You come so fast it's pitiful. 
You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored. 
You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.
—-----you-------
A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough,  you think.  But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa.  When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens. 
He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform.  He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you.  Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"
The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him. 
"Officer. . ." 
"Call me Javi."
"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him. 
"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you. 
"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"
You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.” 
"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?" 
He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you.  As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing. 
Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood.  A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with. 
Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed. 
You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?” 
Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back.  You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.” 
You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”
“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Keeping you safe.”
—--
You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.
An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down. 
“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what?  “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks. 
“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes. 
You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed.  You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around. 
—--ghostface—-
You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you? 
Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits.  He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape.  no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.
—--you—--
The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him.  He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs.  You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough. 
"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw.  Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open. 
“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”
If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly. 
"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist. 
He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.  
You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him.  Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.  
–-
Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh. 
The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you.  The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance. 
always wanted to see you on the pole. 
You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car.  You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it.  As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back.  The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk. 
You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once. 
“My phone,” you tell him. 
He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 
“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours. 
“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him.  You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself.  You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard. 
“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him.  You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit.  Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.” 
He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around. 
“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”
This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride. 
You put your knees on the seat on either side of him.  You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top.  The sheer arousal pisses you off.  He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything.  You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever. 
He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity. 
Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him.  "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter.  You keep degrading him as you fuck him.  "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building.  "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.
When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.
Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number. 
how's the 🍆
A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold. 
"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him. 
"Oh don't stop now, kitty. " 
He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?" 
"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.
You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me,"  then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body. 
"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"
When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back. 
Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down.  The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out. 
"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides. 
"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again. 
"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"  
No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.
"Oh, c'mon, kitty." 
"No," you whimper.
Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds." 
Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight,"  and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums.  You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to. 
"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run.  As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat. 
The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him.  Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants.  He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap.  You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed. 
Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away. 
Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.  
"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you.  He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin.  “Now sit on daddy’s cock.” 
He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had. 
"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him.   "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too.  This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you.  He's still not moving, and neither are you.  Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down . 
Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock."  He feels so fucking good.  Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?"  You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."  
The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest. 
"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'"  You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest. 
His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty." 
You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah."  The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core. 
"Fuck," you whisper. 
He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock. 
"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun.  He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.”  You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again. 
"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him.  Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh." 
As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop. 
He pats your lower belly.  “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."
-
-------------------
Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread too, it's not weird lol.
THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want another one, reblogs make all the difference!!! I appreciate comments, too. 🖤🖤🖤 but reblogs get other people to read it which helps a lot, no matter how small your blog. It also affects the algorithm. If engagement is good, that helps guarantee a next one. If it "flops" compared to the first two, that's discouraging.
if you liked this smut, check out raider Joel meanwhile.
Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.
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doestalker · 1 year
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the reader must serve cunt regardless of gender or lack of it
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filthyslashertoad · 1 year
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How the slashers would react to the reader giving them a love letter/note
Michael Myers
His face may or may not get a lil pink depending on how well you know each other.
Needs some time alone to process.
You don't see him for the rest of the day but when you're sleeping, he gently climbs into bed with you and cuddles with you.
Doesn't let go in the morning.
Clings to you for the rest of the day.
Hannibal Lecter
Thinks it's super cute.
Frames it in his office next to all of his degrees.
Tells Bedelia all about it and asks her what he should give you in return.
Ends up doing absolutely everything he can to spoil you for the next few weeks.
Frees up his schedule for you<3
Billy Loomis
Plays it off and tries to act like it didn't make him love you even more than he already does.
Feels bad when you think he doesn't like it.
Tries to make it up to you by giving you hugs and kisses and watching your favorite movies with you.
He might even offer to cook but if he does, be careful because he may burn the house down.
Stu Macher
Squeals.
Hides from you the whole day because he wants to make a card for you too.
There's way. too. much. glitter
Likes he genuinely pours a whole bottle of glitter into the card and then puts it into an envelope.
Danny Johnson
(I feel like he'd be the type of person to announce random things in a news reporter's voice.)
He'd announce that you'd given him a letter as loud as possible, even if you're in public.
Brings you a bunch of letter-making supplies.
Your letters feed his ego and he absolutely loves it.
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orionlain · 1 year
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𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 note: I came back from 2 month hiatus go me! anyways ur gonna see me post more on diff fandoms other than horror. sorry bout that guys love u all tho
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧
Your window was open for everyone to see, the curtains being put aside, and with that he could easily take a peek at you.
The mirror light bulb shined upon your skin as you were carefully putting your highlighter around the corner of your eyes. The little specks of glitter and your rosy lip balm complimented your looks, and your hair was put in a tidy style. People would assume you were going on a date. A hookup, a party or the bar. But instead, you were staying home tonight. Why? For your job, which was to open the camera and say hello to your followers.
As you finished your foundation and last touch ups, you started setting up the camera in your computer. Browsing from each web page, and quickly announcing that you were going live for all your fans to flock to your stream. You were grateful for your followers, for the money, but as well as them giving the new found confidence you have nowadays. Your outfits had become more flashier, bold and a bit more risque, and he didn’t like that. Your smile lingered on more, and you received more texts than usual, and he didn’t like that. Your new height of fame and laughter was making you less alert. And that was the only thing he liked, knowing that one day you’ll meet your number one fan, which was him.
He couldn’t lie though, the outfits weren’t so bad, he just wished you wouldn’t have to flaunt it to others. Or that pretty gasp you have on camera when you play a horror game, he wished that you were doing that as he put his knife into you instead. He wished, for everything that you were doing, to those stupid men in the same doormat as you, to those girls who were forcing you to party, to those pesky followers who abide by you no matter what you say; was for him instead. And he wanted so much of you. Even if you didn’t know him, and he was there in front of your house right now as you stream, he wanted you to smile for him as well.
It's been months he's been watching you, he knows what coffee you like, what route you take to go to your lecture, what you order in that nearby bakery. He knows who you interact with in real life, your study friends and your family members, he knows which albums you loved when you went to the vinyl store. And he knows what you do at home. You yell and shout at the game, you make niche jokes about your interests to chat. You scroll down in your constant approvals from the masses, you converse to other creators from an entirely different place of the world.
He knows your two lives. And he found it endearing, found it to be so different from all the other victims he had. When nobody knows what you say and what you are in real life, he does. When nobody on the internet knows what location you were at and what you were studying, he does. He found it so special. Of course, he came into the conclusion he was truly your biggest fan. Whether you put that stupid mask on and off, and you become insane from your two lives blurring into another, he’ll have front row seats to such an event. How sweet.
Ghost_F: Nice shirt cupcake.
“Oh Ghostie! You’re too sweet.” You responded in a flush state. To be honest, you always laughed at the nickname you gave to this fan. You gave this name after he became such a vital follower in the past four months. You can say he was rapidly coming close to being your most noticeable one, after he constantly catches up with your streams daily. He was also giving a hectic amount of money, where you had no clue coming from. Well, he didn’t want you to know that money came from the victims he murdered with cold blood. Maybe next time.
Ghost_F: Whatcha doin’?
“Mhm? I don’t know Ghostie. I believe I’m just gonna talk today. How bout it, chat?” That shirt on you was slowly hanging more down as you face more to the screen, he could see that bra he saw a week ago on a night. It looked good on you. Although, it would’ve been better if there weren't eighty people seeing this as well.
And to his annoyance, your followers agreed to the idea. You were just gonna sit there and stay pretty, which he didn’t mind, but he would rather hear your screams again as you play a game. But, you don’t need a horror game for today. He’ll find a way to help you yelp and cry later.
“Alright chat, let's check the timeline for today- Uh.” You turn your head.
There was a knock on the door. Package delivery? You didn’t order anything. You stand up out of your seat and open your door. There was nothing on the ground. Probably one of those annoying college dudes who prank dorms.
“Sorry, chat! There was a knock on the door. But it was nothing! God, my neighbors are assholes.”
You continued to your stream and shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. You casually just scrolled down onto your posts and saw what was happening to the latest news of your favorite games and movies. Small comments back and forth, making you chuckle, but nothing out of the ordinary. Until one viewer sent out a message in chat.
“Don’t you get scared at night? There's like a killer running around in the streets of your state.”
A fan warned. You heard about the murders happening around the state, especially in your town. But you didn’t seem to be phased by it, knowing how much serial maniacs plague this country with states such as Illinois and Ohio, you became desensitized. Though, you didn’t know so much about the recent papers about this prolific guy.
“Well, I don’t know much about him.” Your chat quickly was then filled with information and rumors. Some say he came from the deep levels of hell, sadistic and twisted. Others told how he looked, how he was covered with a ghastly mask and a dark cloak hiding his figure. More talked about the victims, how they were left in a bloody gruesome mess. Word around the street, he goes by the name Ghostface, because of his uncanny mask. All in all, it freaked you out a little. This man is out free swinging his knife and no police were able to catch him. You started getting paranoid.
Ghost_F: You guys are scaring her. Sweets, don’t listen to them.
“Yeah, chat! I don’t even go out at night, I stay home and talk to you guys. And the likely chance of me getting snatched, is pretty low” You giggle it off.
“Anyways, I’m probably not his type.” You were so wrong.
As you were facing the screen and fidgeting around your hair, you swore you something in the corner of your eye. It stopped you in your tracks. You froze in front of the camera. All of your followers were concerned, asking if you were okay.
“Ah, it’s nothing guys. I’m probably just being paranoid after you guys scare me like that!” You resumed your cool facade. You didn’t want them to know that your legs were bouncing up and down in anticipation for what's next. But you soon finally let yourself calm down, telling your brain it's probably some silly animal or neighbor.
You heard a thump. What was that?
Now you were fully freaked out. You jump out of your setup and slowly walk to the kitchen, to get a pan. You tiptoed to your door, and waited for the figure to come here. The thumping of your heartbeat was all you could hear in your ears, and your breath became anxious as you feared for an intruder coming in. No, no not like this.
In a countdown, you open the door once more. It was bare. Nothing, but you could see a hint of a footprint. Dirt? Blood? You couldn’t tell as it was mixed within the colors of the hallways carpet. But something was going on. And yet you close the entrance to your home, shrugging it off to keep up with your stream. You come back to where you reside, and update your followers. Telling them constantly there was nothing wrong. You brush it off, hoping for them to stop trying to interrogate what had happened. You didn’t wanna think about it too much.
Soon, minutes passed and you finally had your fans stop nagging and continued with the next topic. The nerves in your body were finally going down, and you could see yourself sinking into the chair with relaxation. Nevermind what had happened, it wasn’t your problem anyways.
You received a message.
Who was it? The notification went on your screen, and you check on your account on who it was. Hoping it isn’t a scammer or some creep.
It was revealed to be your follower, Ghostie. Hello, it said.
You message him, asking what’s up. No response. You waited for some sort of confirmation or reply after he said a simple hello. Ominous and a little worrying. You sat there, furrowing your brows as you stood by. The stream was finally coming to a close, and there was still no updated news from the man. You sighed, you’re going to leave it be.
Ghost_F donated 2000 dollars.
“Holy shit! Ghostie, what the hell?” He was toying you at this point. This mysterious user was playing mind games with you, and you had no clue why. Just a pitiful gut in your feelings, waiting and responding with surprises. The night was getting even stranger.
Everybody in the chat was shocked. Praising the guy for the huge donation and telling you deserved it. You felt lost of what to say, how do you even reply to such a generous amount of money? If he keeps it up, your entire debt would be gone by the end of the month. And you couldn’t help but feel shameful, thinking about how you didn’t really do that much. You sat around and played games, there was nothing honorable or worth spending a gold bar on.
“Jesus Christ! That’s the biggest donation I-I ever received.” You look at the camera with your face feeling a little flustered.
“How can I make it up to you?” This will bite you in the ass later.
The man privately messaged you. It says;
Go on a call with me, sweets. Stay on live.
Sketchy, but you didn’t wanna ruin this generous deal. You obliged, and you tell your following that you’ll go on a call with him, expressing your happiness and thanks. None of them opposed the idea, they probably wanted to interact with this unknown user who came into the community out of nowhere. Joking about how this bizarre online stranger was going to make you end up like those victims. And you were curious too, who was this guy? Who was Ghost?
His profile was just a default one, no bio, no additional excerpts, just a username. Hesitating at first, the unknown user startled you, it made you draw back and doubt. But you ignored your gut screaming at you to stop. You wanted to make your number one supporter happy, nothing bad right?
You started the phone call. Sitting there, anticipating for him to join.
“Hello?”
“Hey doll.” Wow. His voice was smooth and raspy. You blushed at the sound of his words, it was all rugged and yet deep. It was attractive, especially with that name he called you, you couldn’t help but feel heat rising on your cheeks. And chat wasn’t helping either, spamming in with comments of how nice he sounded, teasing with your sudden reaction, you could feel embarrassment furrowing into your body.
“Um- well I want to say a huge thanks to you man. Thanks Ghostie!”
He chuckled. Don’t do that!
“No problem sweet’s. You can make it up to me.” His comment piqued your interest. What can you do in return for his huge donation? Play a game? Do a silly prank? Or wear a costume? You didn’t know, but as much as bad as it sounded, it made you curious. The deal was so lucrative. It weighed like a mouse leading to a trap, and you were still wanting to know more. About him. About this mysterious man. About this fan that you couldn’t help but have your eyes on. You needed to know more.
“Pfft- Do I have to wear a cute dress or something?” You tease.
“Oh no doll, I wish though,” Huh? “Just a question would do.”
A question? This guy was really strange. Out of all the things he could’ve told you to do, he wanted to just ask you a question. Hell, you would’ve actually worn something for him if you really had to. He disregarded that option though. Something more he had in mind it seems.
“What’s your favourite horror movie?”
Strange, but nonetheless intriguing. You look back into your memory, thinking of the multiple movies you have watched. You always loved the horror genre, so it would be harder to pick out which ones you loved the most. Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, Texas Chain Massacre, the list goes on, and you didn’t want to pick such a basic answer. Thinking back to your recent watches, you reminded yourself that you watched Halloween. And you enjoyed that movie, so you’ll use that as an answer.
“Mhm, Halloween. The guy with a white mask and blue outfit.”
“Good pick, cupcake. Why though?”
“Well it was a really good movie, it had a lot of scares and had me tense for a little bit and- chat don’t say that!” Oh god. Chat was telling your real honest opinion of the movie, and said you were lying. Laughing and spreading emotes, and told Ghostie that you liked the movie because of the killer. In a drunken state of mind in one of your past streams, you mentioned that you had the hots for Myers. It haunted you ever since, and you forgot that people remember that little fact of yours. You were punching yourself in the inside, dying from all the humiliation.
“You have a crush on Myers?” He asked, chuckling on the side. He was happy knowing he was your type.
“Yeah. God that’s so bad. I-I don’t know how to explain it, I mean he’s a killer!” You giggled in response. Admitting to how hilarious and humbling it is. All the while, the other side of the phone is smiling underneath the mask. Smirking with your cute answer, he can’t help but to awe at your little face cringing from chat nagging on to you. He couldn’t wait for you to realize that he was one too. A dirty, murderous, criminal, who has eyes on you. He couldn’t wait for you to look at him and see your adorable face.
“It’s not that bad, sweets. People love bad boys.” You could hear his grin even if you didn’t see his face.
“Ok, ok, just ask me a different question!”
“Alright, alright. Hm. You got a guy?” Oh christ! You stood aghast, a little shocked from the boldness. In front of viewers too, he didn’t care that you had fanboys or loyal people loving you. Yet, you played along, wanting to tease around as if you were interacting with a beast. You were too curious to give up.
“No, I’m too busy with streaming and school. Are you hitting on me or something?” His laughter ensued, it sounded mischievous.
“I don’t know, am I? Tell me doll, do you think I am?” He was playing with you. Taunting you. You didn’t know how to respond, it made you stutter with your words. You hated it so much. But, god, was it attractive.
“I mean- I don’t know! I think you are!” His laugh became even more boisterous. You were just so fun to tease. He never had a victim like this in a while. Never had a girl like you being so eager and yet so hesitant. It amuses him, your defiance brings him entertainment like never before.
“Oh cupcake! You’re making me laugh.” You giggle back to him. “I just have one more question.”
“Ok, ok. What Ghostie?”
“Where do you live?”
What?
You froze. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating what he just said, but the silence told you otherwise. He means it. Chat became quiet. They were just sending messages with emojis seconds ago, and now becoming fearful as you were. Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your throat perk up.
“I can’t, can’t say that.” Your eyes well up, what do you do?
His breath was becoming noticeable. And his voice changed into a more sinister tone.
“That’s okay. I already know anyway.”
He immediately left. And you look to chat. They were just as puzzled and terrified as you were. Shaken to your core, you end the stream. What just happened? It was supposed to be a joke, but now it ended up as something much more threatening and dark. Due to this, you jumped out of your seat, and ran to the door for the third time.
Checking the peephole, hoping to not see a single being outside your unit. Your hands were shaking. Nervous and petrified, you get away from the entrance again. Your brain was playing tricks with you, or there really was someone else playing with you.
Though, you could hear notifications going off in the background. Your fans were concerned for you. Asking if you were okay, if you were safe, and all you could respond with was a yes. It was a troll you assume. A terrible, scary one to be exact. Until a message popped up onto the top of your screen.
Ghost_F: See you soon.
Alarmed, you press onto the profile. It was deleted. Content unavailable. You were fucking freaked out. You called your friends, hoping to be comforted and gain help. But no response avails.
You sat there on your chair instead. Heart beating to the extreme lengths to the point where you could hear it ringing in your ears. Staring at the screen, looking at the message, trying to see if you can decipher its cryptic tone. Hoping to think positively, you put it aside and think it’s a joke. All streamers go through it, having a creepy encounter with viewers, and this is the same thing. Nothing dangerous is going to happen, it’s just some weirdo freaking you out. Right? Yeah it is. It’s just an offhand interaction.
Sighing, you closed the computer and went to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up and pondering to yourself, if that was really true. And coming back to your bed, relaxing as you scroll on your phone to remind people that it’s just a troll. Mentioning you thousand of times with concern, and telling you it was a real threat. Although, you ignored it. Was it actually a threat? Probably not, because it’s been hours since the incident, and you were laying down on the bed. Nothing was going to happen.
You rest your eyes, and think ahead of the stupid troll. The creep with a sultry voice. You didn’t wanna mind it. It was just a fake threat after all.
You woke up. You heard a thump within the walls. Probably the neighbor's cat is acting up again. With your foggy brain and eyelids, you travel to your hallway and press the light switch to check what was there. You couldn’t tell if there was something black in your eyes, but you presumed it was nothing. You finally ended up in the kitchen from your hazed walk, and glanced at what was ahead of you.
The kitchen was empty. No creepy dude, it was fake!
You walked and got a glass in your cupboards. Your shorts were slowly sliding up as you tried to stretch to get a cup in the back of your cutlery. Feeling your shirt also slowly lifting up as you grabbed the object. Your feet finally face the ground when you are done getting the glass, and you turn your back around. Incline to having it be filled with water.
“Boo.”
The glass dropped. Forget water. You shrieked in horror. It was a man covered in a mask, cloaked with a black hood. The mask was detailed with a look of horror, eyes piercing hollow black, and wrinkles to enhance the uncanniness.
“You’re even cuter in real life.” No. No. No.
It was the killer your chat was talking about. It was the mysterious man who sent you the donation. And it was the user who threatened you on call. It all added up. You could feel you chastise your brain for being so foolish, for being so damn stupid. For being so curious.
“I-Is that you?” Your voice shakes in fear. He responds by caressing your face, and pining you closer to the counter beneath the cupboards you were just rummaging into. You feel your back slowly leaning back into the furniture, as he goes closer to you.
“Uh huh, it’s me baby.” His pet names made your stomach churn.
“Are you happy to see me, hm? I think you should be. I mean, I saw you blushing just by the sound of my voice, sweets.” He cackles at the end of his sentence. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours, pleading for his mercy. It was better than he imagined.
“You’re- you’re the killer? You’re, you’re-“
“Ghostface. That’s right baby. Awh, don’t tell me you’re terrified? Earlier, you said you had a little crush on Michael. I’m exactly your type. Maybe a little more talkative, but you get the idea sweetheart!”
He was snarky, condescending and overall, fucking with you. You didn’t know what else to muster but a little placid gasp as he leaned into you. He was built entirely different from yours, toppling your body. His hold backed you into a corner, defenseless and armless. It was a recipe for the end of your life.
“Look at you. Trying so hard to look away from me-“ His sharp blade went to your throat. Forcing you to stare at his blank dark eyes. You still resisted. “Don’t be such a bitch. I gave a generous donation, didn't I? Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy killing all of the guys crushing on you and stealing their money.”
“The fuck! You freak-“
“Freak? Rich coming from you. Babe, I’ve seen your search results.” He chuckled harshly. Oh god.
“It’s filled with some of the sickest shit. You love a killer. You know it’s so, so, so bad to like a man like me?”
“And your kinks. Oh sweet girl, you’re just asking to be gutted. And not in a bloody way either.” Even if he was covered behind a whole costume, you can practically hear his maniac smile. You can hear the tone of voice being clouded with figments of lust, and you hated it. But you proved his point, you could feel yourself squeezing your thighs, for some sort of stimulation, friction or movement.
“Mhm, I know what you’re doing sweetie. So needy.” His words were going to kill you before he ever could. It made your heart thump and filled your belly with butterflies. The attention was getting to you. You had to start thinking fast, to defend yourself in some sort of way. But his body and twisted words held you back from doing so. Although, that unwashed pan in the sink may be the trick. With no thought, you swiftly grabbed the cooking instrument, and swung into his head.
“FUCK! You goddamn whore, you’re going to fucking get it!”
You ran. Ran as fast as you could like those final girls in the movies you watch. Ran towards your bedroom, hoping to escape by jumping out of a window. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but breaking your leg out of survival, seems to be so much better than being a news headline. As you hastily open the glass window, sliding it in a painful slow motion, you put your whole body to ensure you flee. Outside was waiting for you, and you could see yourself escape from the monster. Just as you were so close to getting out of the building, you felt the hem of your shirt being tugged.
You tumbled down, hitting the floor. He grabbed you away from freedom.
“That was close. Ha, cupcake, you gotta be the feistiest one yet,”
“Makes you all the more of a treat to me.”
He puts his boot onto your back, stepping on your laying body. He tied you up with scattered ropes and brandished you like a present. You could feel your lungs giving up as he put more pressure into your figure, and your eyes started to tear up out of pain. Whines could be heard out of your mouth and you forced curses to be thrown towards your intruder.
“I warned you, didn’t I bitch?” He took a fist full of your hair, making you have to kneel and look at him. Putting you in a position that was very revealing. Right in front of his crotch. It was embarrassing, and yet your body was heating up.
“Just get on with it. Kill me.” Your comment was then returned with laughter. As if you were the one that’s insane.
“No, no, no way sweets. I have so much more to do with you, y’know?” He lowered his body, titling his head as he was now in your eye range. With his movement mocking you, as if you were a little puppy. “I’m doing a favor for you, baby.” His hands traced onto your legs, dangerously reaching down into inner thighs.
“You wanted a sick man to fuck you, right? I’m going to do that. I’m going to make you scream, making up for all the times that I saw you touching yourself, thinking about a slasher like me fucking you. I’m going to make you cry, making up for all those men who didn’t pound you right.” His gloved hands were now placed upon your pussy. Rubbing you up and down on your clothed slit, eliciting sweet sounds from you. You cried out to him, and he responded by making his fingers go faster.
“I’m going to make you mine. The only fucking thing you’ll think about is me, a murderer.” His touch was fucking you stupid, drool slowly dripped out of your mouth. He took notice of that and giggles ensued from his mouth. You were being so obedient, in such little time.
“Good girl. Look at you! I’m just rubbing your cunt, and you’re whimpering like a bitch. Fuck, baby.” There he finally stopped teasing you, and swiftly plunged his fingers within your shorts. A yelp escaped out of your throat, and he laughed even more. Panting, your hand grabbed his wrist, hoping for him to stop going so rough. It was immediately shut down, by his arm pinning your palms down. Showing how much more power he had over you. Manhandling you like a little toy.
“Ha- Ghos- Ghost-“
“You can’t even form a sentence. Fucking slut.” In a second, he stopped moving. He took his fingers out of your insides and you whined loudly. No no no! You were so close!
“You don’t deserve to cum. Not fucking yet. You will when you’re done your part, sweets.” He stood up, and towered over you. His hands were now fidgeting with the zipper of his pants, rushing for his erection to breathe. His ache lasted for hours, even before he came to visit you. When he was calling with you, he was so fucking close to just whipping his cock out and fisting it up and down with the sound of your voice. His obsession with you was that bad. It made him even more insane, seeing you afar and in hearing you, your flesh drove him crazy. With your ass around, he couldn’t focus on writing reports of his own victims, since his attention was all to you. He hated it. He hated how much he needed to fuck you, or kill you, it didn’t matter either way, he just had to have you. To make up for all the times he was too distracted to kill or report on news.
His dick finally came out of his slacks and hooded cloak. You were a little entranced. It’s been fucking ages since you took one in your mouth, probably because of him killing all of your suitors, and you felt unprepared.
“Suck. And don’t even fucking think of putting your teeth onto me.” You obliged. With your hands out of the questions, you made sure your mouth was able to take it. Slowly, you teased upon the tip and quickly made your way down his length. And with that, he responded with grunts.
“Fuckk, god. You’re so fucking good at this cupcake.” His hands fondled the top of your head. Resulting into him tugging the strands of your hair.
“Your mouth is so tight. Expected from a bitch like you. I can’t wait to fucking gut your pussy.” He rasped out, and soon his hands had moved to his rhythm onto your skull. Forcing you to bob up and down his dick. Your throat was now filled to the brim, and you started choking. He could hear you struggle, you mouthing that you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. He kept on going, and your oxygen was dying out.
But he finally stopped when he realized you were going to actually pass out. Controlling himself from throatfucking you to unconsciousness, mainly because he wanted to hear more of your whimpers, but he considered you lucky. “Breathe babe, breathe.”
Taking a fresh gasp of air, away from the penetrating taste, he held your hair to the back. This probably was the only time he was ‘kind’ to you. And then you quickly went back.
Thrust after thrust, he was coming close. It was noticeable as his hands were becoming more frantic. Craving for a release. All the while you were squirming your legs for some sort of stimulation. The wet pooling onto your panties was driving you insane. You needed to be filled up, bad.
Finally he came into your mouth. The tangy substance filling up the space. Little drops were slowly falling down but he quickly wiped it from your face, looking proud of his work.
“Swallow it for me babe.”
You obeyed.
“Atta girl.”
You got up. But he quickly deflected your action.
“Ah ah. I’m not done yet.”
You looked at him with a furrow. As horny as you were, you still hoped this would be done shortly. But he still continues. Fuck.
“What- I thought-“
“Mr. Ghostface, please don’t tell me you’re gonna fuck me!” He mocked. “C’mon, I like my toys stupid, but you can’t be that fucking dumb babe.”
He pushed you into the bed. You lay upon your sheets catching your breath, and your cute top had a little peak of your breasts. Your face was filled with slob, and your shorts were absolutely drenched. A beautiful sight indeed.
“Wait, before I ruin you, let me just-“
He whipped out a camera from his back pocket.
Click!
“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He constantly rubbed on your thigh as he did a whole photoshoot of your body. Your back arches little by little as he continues to stimulate your skin. And his hand slowly takes something out of the backsides of his pants. A knife. You yelped out of surprise.
“Oh baby, don’t worry. I’m just going to remove your clothes. I’m not going to hurt you,” He snickered. Putting the blade upon the fabrics and ripping it apart to give a pathway. But he intentionally cuts a little part of your skin as he forcefully parts your pants. Allowing him to brand you. “Yet.”
Finally, you were bare. Fully naked and vulnerable in front of this clothed intruder.
“You look even better up close, y’know? Fuck. I just knew you were perfect for me.” His dick was caressing your folds, making you scrunch your eyes in response to control your whimpers. You were so sensitive, that little tears started forming from your eyes. “Maybe I should just fucking take you away. Maybe I should just keep you in some basement, naked and shivering, huh? But knowing from you, you’d probably fucking like it.”
“You’re a whore, you know that?” All you could respond was cute little grunts to his stimulation and comments, “Mhm, but you're my whore.”
He inserts it with no warning. You gasp out of shock. His dick was really caressing the corners of your insides. And you could feel contraction from the penetration. It felt like it couldn’t fit at all.
“Sh-shit! So god damn tight! God-“ Ghostface was spasming from the way you tightened around him. Even with the slow pace, it felt agonizingly strained and painful. But you didn’t mind at all, because of how much it was stretching you so well. Filling up the need and wants in every right direction.
“So- so much!” You whined. You didn’t know if you were pleading him to take it slow, or go rapidly fast, but you definitely wanted him to keep going. To keep pushing you to the brim until you can’t think anymore, fucked with no words left to speak. To keep rubbing up and down till you start screaming, babbling with no thoughts to fill in your head. You needed this so bad.
“I know, I know- fuck, christ doll.” The masked man shuddered upon his words. He was as smitten as you were. The way your hole pulsed and tightened as he went further. The way your face is all flushed and cute as he rammed into you. The way your breasts move up and down as he makes you spasm and moan. Your cute little eyes, struggling to keep wide open from the hazy sex. He really couldn’t get enough of you. He really wanted to you fuck you up more and more.
“Ha- I knew you would fucking like this. You love being a sick freak taking in a murderer's cock. You love it, don’t you, don’t you baby?” His hands were caressing your skin as you whimpered. The latex stimulating you as your mind runs wild on the touches and senses you were feeling. At this rate, you were going to finish, and it couldn’t help when you were contracting more and more.
“Yeah that’s right. I could feel your fucking cunt clenching me, you gonna cum? Hm?”
You gave no response, too dazed to comprehend what he said. He slapped your face for you to snap out of your drunken phase.
“I said, whore. Are you gonna cum around my cock?”
“Y-yes!” He started going faster. Abusing your cunt even more and more. You started gasping for air with the amount of assault he was doing to you. Bringing you to the edge. “Mr. Ghostface I-Im going to-“
“Aww, it’s so much isn’t it? Well too fucking bad. You can only cum when I say so, so fucking take it. Or i’ll fucking slice your throat into two.” He maliciously spat.
“Or are you that desperate that you would rather have me fucking gut you, just so you can cum? I wouldn’t even be surprised.” Laughing ensued after he remarked how pathetic and dumb you look. You were all mindless, continuously just taking in and out like a toy. And the worst part, you enjoyed it, loved it and wanted more and more.
“I’ll be nice this time. Beg for me.”
“Huh?” You muttered, confused and not knowing what he just ordered.
“I said beg. Are you fucking stupid? Beg. Beg for you to fucking cum. I know how much you fucking need it.”
You swallowed your pride. It’s too late to do anything more to save your face. Look at the state you were in. Sweat, back arching and drool slowly forming from your mouth. Nothing is reputable with this. You looked like a whore. And he knew damn well he made you into one.
“Ple-please.?”
“Is that all you got? Beg. Beg fucking harder!” He slapped your cunt in order to elicit a reaction out of you.
“I- fuck- fuck! Please, pleasee! Please let me cum! Please, Mr. Ghostface! Please, I need it! I fucking need it! I need it so bad! I need you to fucking fill me! Just- let me- me cum!” You were babbling at this point. Saying all of this under his will.
“I need it so bad! I need it. I need you! I need you!” You reached for his mask. Showing how terribly desperate you wanted for some kind of release.
“Atta fucking girl.” He put his mask to the side. “Come here.”
He penetrated with his tongue inside your mouth. You whisper and moan, faltering around his body. Your arms were frenzied all over his shoulders. You were needy. And most of all, so fucking horny.
“You wanna cum? Yeah?”
“Uh huh!”
“Go ahead, sweets. Cum around my cock. I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” There it went, his pace going harder and harder. Louder and more frantic.
“Cum for me. Cum for me, pretty. Cum for your fucking killer.”
And you did. With a loud whine you came around everywhere. A load filling you up as you spasm with his dick still in you. Your body automatically faltered on the bed, tired and so fucking full. He pulled out, having your cunt leak out all the fluids. You were absolutely fucking gutted.
Click!
You heard a camera snap. You would’ve protested but your legs would have probably given up if you tried.
“I’m keeping that one baby. Displaying it on the top of my fridge.”
“Here.” As his last ‘gift’ to you, he marked your neck. A purple bruise, prominent and easily noticeable.
“Stream tomorrow, cupcake. And show my fucking mark on you proudly.”
He wanted to make sure he was definitely your favorite follower. Wanted to show everyone one of your fans that you’re his now. And it was completely obvious with how much he had made you into his.
Next time, he’ll do it live. And maybe, he’ll bring some other fans he knows of.
Maybe that son of a bitch, Michael would join in.
“I’m your biggest fan, sweets. Don’t forget that.” He said, leaving you in your bed, while he left your house.
And he believed that you already knew.
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semiweirdshipper · 1 year
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diejager · 9 months
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Riding
“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his head thrown back in the moment of exquisite pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re- tight!”
In a daze, he reached for your hips, warm palms clutching your naked flesh as he tried to ground himself, trying to stay coherent in the frenzy of sinful pleasure. You felt whole, squatting over him in the corner of the killer’s shack, skin bare and naked to his hazel eyes and hungry mouth. He watched you roll your hips, grinding yourself against the hardness of his cock, his trimmed hair tickling your nub, sending you both shivering. You from the constant stimulation, and him, from your sudden tightness around him. 
He arched his back, rutting into you, his strong arms moving along his shaft. It was a soft motion of pushing in and pulling out, in and out, again and again, until you were both panting and moaning for more. You met in the middle, your lips dancing across his in a passionate tango of love and obsession. You pushed off the ground, thighs burning at the work of riding him, he helped you move, supporting your weight with his hands and his hips thrusting upwards. 
“God-” he gasped, hissing when you bit his lower lip, pulling it when he tried to pull away. His chest rumbled in a low chuckle, pushing his body flush against yours and grinding into you. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.” 
You let out a cheeky laugh, hands roaming the expanse of his coat, nudging the flap away and running your nails over his tight muscles. You dug your short nails into him, hearing him groan, hips stuttering as you slammed down on his lap. He made the most addicting sounds you’ve ever heard, low and raspy, or deep and teasing. Danny had a way with words, his tongue singing the best songs one could wish to hear when he was moaning and groaning under you.
“I could tell you the same, Ghostie.”
He slurred out a moan at your nickname. He loved it when you called him Ghostie, you fully embraced his darker side, even playing little games with him when he asked. Maybe you were as sick as he was, wanting to give yourself to him, letting him fuck you however he wanted and giving him whatever he wanted. But he was as devoted to you as you were, he’d kneel and beg for you, he’d let you use him as your toy and he’d do anything for you. You were both a blessing and a curse to each other.
You gasped, back arching and eyes rolling. You clawed at his shoulder, drawing lines of beautiful crimson from your love down his chest as you rolled your hips. Danny hissed, driving skyward jerkily, biting back his moan as he came. He filled you in waves of potent cream, the white cum dripping down his balls and his puckered rim when it became too much for your tight snatch. He gave a few more thrusts, riding out your peaks until his cock grew soft and he supported your limp figure, tired and satiated. 
“Love you, doll,” he murmured, his swollen lips finding their rightful place on the crown of your head. 
“Love ya too, Danny.”
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krypticcafe · 1 year
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Mfs be like "oh he's my babygirl<3" or "he whimpers fr" or "submissive and breedable". And then the whole character tag is like FULL of that character being dominant and topping the reader. Ummm?? Excuse me, but I thought we were gonna be making them ride us until all that's left are pretty little tears, nonsensical babbling, constant begging, relentless whimpering, knees buckling, thighs trembling, hips twitching, frantic gripping, feverish sobbing, and loud moaning, all from a hot, needy mess desperate for release???
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theres-a-body-here · 1 month
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Love Letter Aftermath
First part
The realization of receiving a love admission sinks in for the killers
Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Some spice Male!reader
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The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka
He's angry
Angry at you for giving him that damn letter
And angry at himself for keeping it
He keeps it on his shrine
Even while he tries to distract himself with training between trials, your letter is all that's on his mind
At least once a day, for a couple of minutes, he stares at the letter while working up the courage to crumple it and dispose of it
He never can
When Rin found the letter, his heat sunk
She thought it was cute, but rolled her eyes at how Kazan was acting
The days following the letter, you've noticed in trials with Oni, he never downs you with his Kanabo anymore, only his Katana
Even during chases, when he's activated his blood fury right behind you, he stampedes off somewhere to down anyone else
And when he carries you to hooks, you've noticed how gently he holds you
But he never stays after hooking you and seems to avoid your gaze
Strangely, Rin has been giving you some leeway during trials as well
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The Trapper - Evan MacMillan
When he got back to his realm after the trial, he immediately went to work on making a box for the letter
Yeah, a whole keepsake box for a single letter
He places it next to the box where he keeps his old drawings
Whenever he sees you in trials, he still gets those butterflies
If you step in one of his traps, he's immediately rushing to where he heard you scream
If he sees any other survivors trying to free you, he swats at them
Evan gently pulls at the jaw of the trap and pulls it apart, letting you retract your injured foot
He's trying his hardest not to ogle your legs
"Sorry," he mutters gruffly, his hands holding your leg softly while he inspects the damage
He picked up some gauze that one of the others dropped and begins to bandage your wound
He can feel your gaze burning holes into his mask as he works
He's the one to break the silence
"I've killed you... and your friends, over and over."
There's a long pause on your end before you respond
"I know"
You two leave it at that
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The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn
Caleb keeps the letter under the bar counter in his realm
Whenever he returns from an exhausting or lost trial, he looks at it
A small part of him still thinks you're messing with him
He's way too nervous and skittish around you now to do anything, so you're gonna have to initiate everything
In trials, you do your best to spend time with him
Especially when you insist that he treats you no different
When he carries you to hook, you take the moment to touch him
You turn your head to plant a kiss on the back of his neck
Caleb visibly shivers and lets out a groan
"Yer tryin' ta kill me, ain'tcha?"
"Is it working?"
Despite you asking otherwise, he tends to leave you alone when he can in trials, opting to hide the others
If you confront him about it, he'll deny it
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The Mastermind - Albert Wesker
He keeps your letter in the inner pocket of his jacket
You definitely have his full attention now
Don't expect any special treatment, because he's not gonna give it
In fact, he seems to actively seek you out first if he knows you're in his trial
Wesker gets angry when you can't loop him for more than a couple of minutes
"Are you even trying? Pathetic"
While carrying you to a hook, he's lecturing you all the way
"You didn't run it tight enough. You were too greedy with the pallet. You didn't check your blind spots."
He'll get even more irritated if you start to tear up
Can't you see he's trying to help you?
Wesker refuses to have someone so vulnerable as an admirer
So you better get to it
If you do manage to improve and become better in trials, his attitude changes
It goes from scoldings to rewards
He takes off his gloves to hold your chin and pull you close
You feel his lips ghost over your cheek and shiver when he tightens his grip on you
He stares at your face, drinking up your reactions
And then he lets you go, watching as your face twists from dazed to confused
"What? Were you expecting a kiss?"
You're gonna have to do a lot more if you wanna get a smooch from him
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The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer
He tapped your letter to the side of his chainsaw
He gets all giddy when he glances at it during his sweeps, especially if he manages to down a survivor
It's his good luck charm
If he spots you in a trial, he'll literally drop everything to rush over and give you hug
Bubba would honestly hug you all trial if you let him
He's definitely become a bit more protective over you, maybe even prone to jealousy
He doesn't even let anyone work on gens with you, revving his chainsaw if anyone gets too close
Once everyone gets the message and leaves you two be, he'll sit behind you as you work and hug you
Expect lots of nuzzles
Bubba whines when the gen is completed and you have to stand up to find a new one
He follows you like a puppy until you find the next one and the process begins anew
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The Ghostface - Danny Johnson
Danny doesn't really have anywhere he can store the letter safely
So he does the logical thing and memorizes it's contents, word for word
He doesn't care what happens to the paper
Sometimes during trials, he'll tease you by reciting it during chases
Even adding things you're certain you never added
"And I promise to always let you smash whenever and wherever you want," he says, mimicking your voice as you dangle from the hook
"I NEVER WROTE THAT!!"
Being her favorite, The Entity doesn't care if Danny spares you every trial
But he won't
Because he's a meanie
"No hard feelings, right boo?" He coos as he plunges his blade into your back
If you're sore about it, he's more than happy to make it up to you
He'll run his cold leather-gloved hands under your shirt, pressing you against a wall as you try to stay angry
"Come on, don't be like that," he mutters into your ear, squishing your sides
If you fold now, he'll tease you for being whipped
But if you stay strong, he'll pull out the big guns
He buries his masked face into your neck, slowly grinding his hips against yours
"You feel that, baby? You feel how sorry I am?" He growls, pressing his hard-on against you
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akanothere · 2 months
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After meeting at Roseville Gazette, 1993.
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dilophosauridae455 · 2 days
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Hi... haha... lol... reposting this with a teaser so people are maybe more inclined to see the full thing. Danny stitching himself up under the cut... lol...
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ebonyslasher · 2 months
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Sleeping Time
A little something creepy for Valentine's Day. Hope you all enjoy!!
TW: A teeny mention of non-con thoughts in Billy's part
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Michael was the subject expert at watching people from afar. Although he was tall, he was easy to miss for those who weren't paying attention. Even when he was on the prowl, ready to kill a nearby target, they still wouldn’t feel his presence until it was too late. 
This was the same with you, as you soundly slept in your soft bed. Pillows surrounded you like a halo, the fan blowing right on your unconscious form. Michael stood off to the side of the bed, watching as you rested. You were none the wiser, not even feeling the aura of his presence in the room.
Michael tilted his head as he observed your relaxed face. You were unlike most he came across, your look was so beautifully unique. At first glance, he was immediately obsessed. His cold eyes took note of your position, on your back with one arm lifted over your head. The only sign that you were alive was the movement from your chest. Something that could be easily taken away, if Michael so chooses. 
But, he doesn’t. He viewed your eyebrows, nose, and ears first. His eyes traveled down towards your mouth, chin, and then your neck. He spent ample time observing, his eyes going back and forth between your features. However, he couldn’t help but gravitate his view towards your neck. Especially when you move your head from side to side. Your neck didn’t look fragile, but it didn’t look strong either. Your skin looked smooth. The appeal of your neck made him want to reach out and squeeze. To see your pretty eyes open in shock and pain as he drained your breath from you. 
But, he doesn’t.
 Maybe one day. 
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Danny Johnson was a born stalker. In elementary school, it was seen as a childish quirk that he had. Easily dismissable. In middle school, it started to become concerning, but fluctuating hormones were used as an excuse. With eyes on his behavior, he tried to break the habit. In high school, he tried his best but failed. By adulthood, he had practiced how to get away with it. Now, he was using those skills to watch you. 
Being a journalist had its perks. That meant he could carry a camera with him wherever he went. He had been stalking you for a while, taking notes on where you went and any routine(s) you had. He would often take pictures, usuallywhen you were looking off to the side or down. At first he was excited to have pictures of you so he could hang them in his room. However, he wanted a closer look, getting frustrated with just zooming as a temporary relief. Danny could only get so close to you in public without notice.
Danny planned to break into your house, once he was comfortable knowing the layout. He was already watching you from the window. You had knocked out on the couch with the TV still on. Bingo.
He carefully walked through the front door and silently made his way over to the couch. You didn’t stir at his presence, giving him plenty of time to watch you.
Finally, Danny could look at you closely. He peered at your face, eyes zooming in on your jawline and puffed cheeks. You looked so cute, so fragile. The desire to stab or pinch your cheeks made him smile wildly in glee. But…he didn’t want to ruin that pretty face. 
In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to entertain the image. Ghostface unsheathed his dagger and lightly traced the tip of it right above your jawline and cheek. The peach fuzz on your face raised, the tip of the hair touching the knife. But, your skin was none the wiser. The urge to cut down on your fantastic skin increased. He did not want to ruin the moment, so he retracted the blade from your face. 
He took a moment to look at you again. How peaceful. Danny gets out his phone, making sure the shutter from the camera app was silent. He took up close pictures of each individual part of your face. That cute nose. Beautiful eyelashes. Amazing shaped eyes. Soft, delectable lips. He sighed in pleasure at the view each time his camera focused. 
Once he was satisfied, he walked out of the house. As he made his way home, he began to plan your kidnapping. There was no way he’d let anyone else view your perfect face ever again.
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He had been stalking you for 3 weeks now. The first week was spent getting to know your routine, place of residence, car, and whatever else he could find. The second week, he went through the local building department archives, obtaining the blueprint to your house. The third week he solidified his plans, confident with your schedule and house layout. He had broken in a few times while you were away to practice.
However, one thing that he had trouble with was the dilemma of what he wanted to do with you. He needed to decide whether to have you in his collection or to keep for himself. Viewing you from a distance was not enough to make his decision. The pictures hanging in your house didn’t help him decide either. They were not enough, he had to get closer.
It was 2:03 am when he disabled your security system and snuck into your house. He goes straight to your bedroom, not wanting to waste any time. Thankfully, the door to your room was slightly open enough for him to slide through. He goes in, quietly walking up to your sleeping form.
You were sleeping on your side, hugging the pillow under your head. Your arm did not obscure the view from your face, thankfully. Asa focused on the curve of your nose that flowed nicely into wide nostrils. There was a shine against your skin, blessed moonlight rays hitting you from the window. Your eyebrows, which would scrunch intermittently, fanned out beautifully. As he took in more of your features, he wondered between the two options. While stalking you, he would watch your facial expressions often. They were quite alluring.
 If you were part of the collection, he would have to decide which facial expression would be best to accentuate your features. A hard decision, as so many suited you just right. 
But…..
If collected, he wouldn’t be able to see the full range of how you changed your face, especially when you’re being tormented and in pleasure. He pondered on the possibility of that face making delicious expressions. In that case…
It might be better to keep you to himself. 
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In the moments that he doesn’t want to gruesomely kill randoms, he likes to watch people. He’s very attached (literally) to his camera and likes to document the small things in life. He would do this to victims he stalked. It makes the build-up to the climax so sweet when they were killed. He intensely set his eyes on you at first sight, making him double-take at your beauty as you crossed the street. You were a knockout. 
As he had his goons follow your every move, they noticed that you were a heavy sleeper. This was great news for Jesse, as he decided to take a closer look. You were knocked out, sleeping soundly in your messy bedroom. Jesse took his shoes off, as his heeled boots could make noise. He did not want to mess up this glorious opportunity. He tiptoed gracefully around everything to get close to you. 
He leaned over, looking at your angelic face. As he appreciated the view, he made sure to record the whole thing, excited to review the footage whenever he felt lonely. Although, he would never admit that. He wanted you to be his little piggy princess.
 But… he had to wait. It wouldn't be fun if he indulged now. 
He continued to gaze upon your sleeping face, excited when you started going through REM. Your eyes shifted quickly under your eyelids and your mouth started to slightly open. His eyes dart to them immediately. It was a moment before you whimpered, eyebrows cutely scrunching throughout your dream. Random body parts would jump and faintly spasm, enthralling Chromeskull each time. It was obvious that you had sleep paralysis. The fight in your body made him excited. Would you act the same under his control, if he tied you up or held you down?
It seemed like the fight was beginning to end. Your limbs were successfully fighting off the paralysis one by one. He took the final opportunity to enjoy a full-body view of you writhing underneath the covers. He knew you were going to wake up soon. He dips silently, walking out the door as you wake up disoriented.
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Billy loved to watch. Anything. He was a voyeur. Intimate moments were the forefront of their entertainment. Watching people shower, expel their waste, shave, cry, and masturbate were some of his favorites. It was his own reality tv show. But, the one habit he adored watching was people sleeping.
When Billy watched you sleep, it inspired his imagination to go wild. The thought of doing something to you, even around you, without you knowing made him feral. To imagine and know he could do whatever he wanted was so appetizing. It could be as innocent as caressing your soft hands. Or as devilish as wiping his cock lightly across your face.
The latter weighed heavily on his mind as he leered at you sleeping. You slept haphazardly but that did not hide the curve of your body. As you shift, he drooled at the way you twisted and moved under the covers. He wants to rip them off to see how you truly look. 
Any sounds you made, Billy mentally took note to mimic. But not only that, your whimpers and odd sounds excited him. He wondered what sounds you would make if he pleasured your unconscious body. How he would love to see your face as he did so, imagining your blissed expression in glee. It was his favorite to watch if you had a particularly wild dream or nightmare, to see you toss and turn turned him on further. 
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The voyuer that he was loved watching you sleep. He wished he’d forced his parent to buy him a camera. It would have been a favorite pastime  to take photos of your sleeping face. It would provide him ample jerk off material when he couldn’t observe you. Thankfully,  he had plenty fun of jerking off to you as you slept before him.
The curve and plumpness of your lips was a sight to behold. It was equally enthralling watching them slightly open as it was seeing you talk. It turned him on so, so much. His eyes would pop when the covers would hug your form nicely, showing off your luscious curves. In certain positions, your body would look downright divine, often sending him over the edge. 
The best parts would be when you tossed and turned to the point where the covers would start to fall off. The opportunity would give him a lovely view of whatever you had on (or not) to bed. If you were naked, he would go feral!
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toxicanonymity · 9 months
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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
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SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .
Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
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Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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Apologizing For a Pallet Stun
{Includes: Ghostface, Amanda, Frank}
Warnings(?): Mentions of stalking(?)
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Ghostface -  Danny Johnson
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Danny was honestly not too surprised you apologized for stunning him. He’s been watching you in every trial you have together, and even goes out of his way to stalk you outside of trials. He’d only be surprised if you never did this with anyone else. 
He eats up your apology. It totally makes his ego bigger than it already is.
He honestly might use your sympathy against you, just depends how mean he’s feeling that day.
“You’re really sorry, doll? Show my just how sorry you are.” 
There are so many different things he’d try to make you do to show how sorry you are, like sabotaging your teammates, letting him down you, or visiting him after trial.
If he’s not feeling too mean, then he’ll talk to you like you’re an innocent lil’ thing that doesn’t know what they’re doing. And even then, it’s kinda mean
But he does sort of appreciate the apology... In his own way.
The Pig -   Amanda Young
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To be honest, most people would feel bad with the little squeak she lets out when a pallet is thrown down.
She’s pretty confused that you apologized for throwing down the pallet, but she appreciates it.
Most survivors don’t have that sort of sympathy you do, so it’s nice to receive the kindness once in a while...
She just lets you ramble on an apology, trying to tell you it’s fine (even if she doesn’t like to talk in the pig head)
Honestly, she’ll leave you alone after that.
She’s a killer, but it honestly feels kinda mean to just hook you after that.
She’ll most likely even go easy on you in trials after that... But she still has a job at the end of the day.
The Legion -   Frank Morrison
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You think Amanda is confused? Frank is like 10x more confused than she is.
As soon as the pallet hit him and a bundle of apologies escaped your mouth, he just.... Stood there.
Like, why are you apologizing?? Why are you apologizing to a killer???
It’s not only that, but he’s just not used to getting such a sympathetic response from anyone besides his friends. It’s just... weird.
He doesn’t get you at all. He doesn’t get this whole interaction at all.
He’s so confused he can’t even reply to you. His mind is just blank.
He’s just gonna walk away mid apology honestly. You might not even see this man for the rest of the trial.
He will literally avoid pallets in future trials when chasing you. But if he does get an apology again he’ll still be hella confused
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filthyslashertoad · 1 year
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Slashers reacting to being called your husband*
Hannibal Lecter
Thinks it's cute
(Gets a warm feeling in his chest and his face feels hot whenever you say it)
Wants you to present yourself with his last name for future conversations/introductions.
Brahms Heelshire
Squeals with excitement.
Calls you his husband/wife/spouse in return.
Tries to do things that will lead to you calling him your husband.
Bo Sinclair
Teases you about it .
Refers to himself as your husband in the third person.
"Can you grab that for me?"
"Yes, your husband will get that for you."
HEAVY. emphasis on the your.
Danny Johnson
Has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face when he hears you say it.
Like he is such a smug bastard.
Tells everyone at work about it and makes them all clap for him.
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