#Ghostface fic

[toxicanonymity]

EVERY INCH

GHOSTFACE x f!reader (series masterlist)

When Ghostface is unconscious after your car crash, you turn the tables on him, setting off a wild ride. This is a dark fic. It's fantasy. Read at your own risk. Ghostface is anonymous & masked. Secondary characters are at horror-typical risk of death.

Ongoing and slow as hell. Main masterlist.

Every Inch (1.4k) - May 20, 2023

Every Inch 2 (2.2k) - July 22, 2023

Every Inch 3 (4.4k) - October 9, 2023

Every Inch 4 (6.6k) - June 18, 2024

Extras

the gift

Art 😍

skin carving edit by @iamasaddie

amazing edit by @iamasaddie

part 4 collage by @aurorawritestoescape

TRAILER by @carminepoison

[whorefordean]

ghostface smut i wrote on my break at work, anyone? ps this is very short

tw: recording poundtown, dubcon?, maybe a slight corruption kink?, threats lowkey, also unedited so any mistakes are allowed to be laughed at (if you can’t tell i hate labeling tw bc i suck at it. my apologies, dearie)

mdni 18+

“what would your friends think if they saw you like this?” ghostface mumbles into your ear. you can barely hear him over the sounds of slapping skin and your own moans. he’s thrusting into you so hard that you’re jerked forward each time his hips meet your ass. if his bicep hadn’t been nestled directly against your throat, locking you in place, you’re sure you’d be knocking against the wall by now.

“don’t,” you whimper, eyes rolling after a rather deep thrust. his cock fills you so perfectly, and you know you should beg him to stop. but you couldn’t. not when he felt so fucking good, and definitely not when you were the one who provoked him.

that stupid phone call three weeks ago had fucked with your head so bad, that you ended up with a killer’s cock buried so deep inside your aching pussy that you weren’t sure how you’d ever allow another man to fuck you again. there was simply no way that any man could give you this much pleasure again unless it was him.

the hand that had been resting on your bare hip retracts, and he leans over your, reaching toward the nightstand to grab your phone. the angle pushes his dick deeper, causing you to cry out as tears prickle your eyes with how far he’s pushing into you. your mouth is wide open, and your eyes are lulling shut as the tip of his cock nudges against your g spot.

the masked man chuckles as you grasp at his arm around your throat, nails prickling his skin.

“gonna make me bleed? hm? we both know i’m better at it,” he grunts into your ear as he settles back into his earlier position, phone now directly in front of your face. you can’t be bothered to care anymore when the flash comes on because he’s jerked your hips back to switch angles again.

“let them know how good i’m ruining this innocent little cunt,” he groans, quickening his pace as he shoves the camera in your face. you’re too far gone to object, and he laughs at you for it.

moans and whimpers echo through the room. ghostface sets the camera up on your nightstand, giving the perfect view of him using you. you pry your eyes open to look back at his masked face, tears and drool wetting your face.

“mm, there she is,” he rumbles. his arm loosens around your neck.

“please. they can’t know,” you whimper, hoping the words don’t reach the mic on your phone.

“oh, that’s too bad. because everybody in this town is gonna watch you fall apart on my cock while you beg for more,” he threatens.

unfortunately for you, he’s not lying. his gloved hand reaches down to toy with your clit. that mixed with his raspy threats have you toppling over the edge within minutes.

“smile, darlin,” he whispers in your ear as your eyes roll while you cum on his cock. the video stops and he snaps a quick photo, the flash adding another dizzying sensation.

ghostface fills you with his cum, laughing darkly as he pulls out, leaving a trail of his release in his wake. he snaps another photo—this time of your used cunt— and let’s put a hum of approval.

“can’t wait to show them how well you suck me cock,” he whispers. his threads one hand in your hair while the other slips his mask up just enough to press a rough kiss against your lips.

[cherry-writes-yanderes]

Bloodstained

cw: MINORS DNI, dead dove do not eat, gender neutral reader, yandere, noncon/dubcon thigh riding, blood kink, mask kink, light knifeplay, fuck or die lite™️, soft dirty talk, blood, mentions of murder, the reader is brutally stabbed, backstabbing (lol you’ll get it), physical assault, death threats, threat of wound fucking, horny Ghostie

Remember to like & reblog if you enjoy my work~ <3

word count: 1,939

The mist seemed a lot thicker than you remembered.

A constant reminder that you were indeed in the dark, as well as in danger. Especially after some asshole decided to make an offering to thicken it. You’d kill that bastard yourself if you could; but you can’t. You are a survivor, a mouse in the classic game. You couldn’t spill blood other than your own even if you wanted to.

Speaking of a cat and mouse game, you definitely felt like a mouse now. Especially when the cat was right across the dingy hallway, grasping another of your vermin brethren by the throat: Ace.

The man coughed as The Ghost Face held him high against the wall, holding his knife up against the man’s throat. The blade was as long as your forearm, glinting in the crude, broken down lighting of the old manufacturing building you were all thrust into for a trial.

A loud boom sounded through the building; a sacrifice had been completed. The hooks were cruel, and you unfortunately couldn’t get there in time to save your other friend.

You slowly peeked through the crack of the red wardrobe you were currently hiding in, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you heard Ace cough again, you supposed that it meant that Ghostface’s grip was now tighter on the poor man’s throat.

“Where. Are. They?” You heard the masked man’s muffled voice. His breathing was labored; chasing survivors around to murder them was obviously a tiring game. But you knew that the bastard enjoyed it. The last time you were against him he took a crude and bloody photo of you as a “keepsake”, according to him.

“W-Who?!” Ace croaked loudly, his legs kicking out in a weak attempt to try and fight off the black-clad killer.

“(Y/N), you stupid fuck!!” The Ghostface roars as he slams Ace against the wall, making the man nearly crack his skull on the dirty cement. Ace groans, choking and sputtering as he tries to get his bearings again after that attack that clearly made him dizzy. He knew that Ghostface was obsessed with you, stopping at nothing to get near you in every single trial you two were in together. The killer’s never been this angry though, and he was scared that he would get killed early from this crazy fucker. He knew that there was only one way to get out of this, and in the end, it was every man for himself.

You swallow hard has Ace slowly raises a bloody finger, pointing directly at the closet you’ve nestled yourself into. 

“No...” 

Your heart drops into your shoes, the killer slowly turning to face the closet as well. You hear him chuckle as he drops the squirming and injured man, letting him scramble up off of the floor and watch with wide eyes.

His boots sound heavy as they get closer to you, your eyes wide and your heart leaping out of your chest. You knew he was toying with you, there was no way that he ever wanted to go slow at anything. You were supposed to be scared.

The double doors swung open before you could even blink, and without thinking you tried to scamper away as if you even had a chance against him. You screamed as the killer grabbed at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and throwing you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

“Aw now, don’t run off now sweetpea, we’re just gettin’ started!!” Danny laughs as he sits on top of you to stop you from wiggling.

“NO!!!!” You scream out as you see Ace run off, tears streaming down your cheeks at the prospect of being alone with the lunatic that meant you harm. You wiggle harder, managing to break free from under Ghostface for but a fleeting moment before you feel something roughly pierce your shoulder blade... something sharp.

You scream as Ghostface’s knife pierces you, white-hot pain coursing through your body as you feel ribs crack and blood gush from the wound. You can hear him cooing loudly at you over your screaming, but you couldn’t fully understand what was being said. If you were being honest with yourself, you really didn’t care.

“Aww now, hush!!~ It’s gonna be fine! You’re gonna die anyways!” Danny laughs like it’s the funniest joke ever. He swiftly pulls the knife from your back, listening closely to your whimpering and crying.

He flips you over and you can hear him breathing heavily as he grabs your arms and blood gushes from your shoulder blade. “Y’know what, you sweet little thing? I wanna play just a little…” He chuckles, muffled by the mask as well as the blood rushing through your ears. “Ju-Just a little, I promise! That blood is... it’s fuckin’ hot...” He swallows, his mask getting closer to your face the more he speaks.

“Unluckily for you, though-” He grunts as he lays you flat and hovers over you, suddenly grabbing your neck and squeezing.  “You won’t be seeing my handsome face... This time around anyway~” He jokes as you cough and kick hard; a feeble attempt to escape again. You can feel your own sticky blood pooling on the floor from your open wound, and it made your heart beat even faster and your adrenaline flow, your body practically moving on its own.

As you struggle, you hear him softly grunt, as if he didn’t wanna mention what was wrong in that moment. You finally realize, and it’s horrid. In his efforts to cage you in and trap you under him, he had put his knee in between your legs, causing your sudden movements to rub against him. Was he... turned on by this?! What a fucking pervert... You stop in your attempts to move after that realization, opting to try moving your legs up to kick him in any way. That only made it worse, his breathing getting labored as he just watched you eerily with that goddamned mask.

“Hey!!!” He shouted suddenly, slamming your body onto the cold floor and bringing you back up again, holding you close to him. “Who fuckin’ said you could stop?” He asked deeply, his voice deep and smooth but sinister at the same time. The rubber of the mask touched your nose as he stared you down, your body shaking under such a dangerous gaze. He sighs, grabbing your hips as he sits you right on his thigh. You felt even more like a mouse, but now you were in the cat’s jaws.

“Move your hips, baby...” You hear him order, his breath heavy with anticipation. You don’t comply for a moment, staring him down in defiance. “Don’t make me fuck that bloody hole in your back instead, you little bitch.” Danny growls as he reaches around you to poke a finger in your gushing wound to make you squeal, which you do.

This time, you comply, knowing that him getting angrier would lead to a worse fate than this. You slowly move your hips over his toned thigh, your warmth rubbing against the fabric of his bloodstained pants as well as your clothing. Your cheeks were hot, and you had to admit that the friction felt good. But with someone who planned to kill you? Maybe he wouldn’t if you gave him what he wanted...

“That’s it, sweetness... Mm, you’re so warm...” He huffs desperately, his hands gripping your hips hard as he helps you along, pushing you down as he moves his leg for a better angle. “Yeah, that’s it... Good ‘lil baby...” He praises again and again as you ride him, a gentle whimper from the building pleasure escaping your throat without permission. You can feel your body reacting harshly to everything that has happened, truly obvious from the stain that has appeared on The Ghost’s pants. It all happened so fast, your brain was fuzzy. His hips started to hump against you, begging for some kind of attention in the place he needed you most.

You could hear generators being completed and the lights getting brighter. The other survivors were probably wondering where you were, and your heart stung from the thought that they might just leave without you.

Danny watched as you tried to quickly get yourself off, smiling under the mask at how funny this situation was to him. He never thought you would be this obedient... But he liked it. The killer knew that he should have done this sooner if you were going to be this good of a fucktoy!~ Leather gloves grabbed at your cheeks, squishing them and making your moans muffle just a bit as he forced you to grind on him faster. His index finger forces itself into your mouth, rubbing your tongue with vigor as he continues to move you. A twinge of blood from your wound coats your taste buds, and your warmth throbs from how good it tasted. “L-Look, sweetcheeks- mmh- I’m okay with not cumming this time... Just this once, y’hear?? But- shit, you gotta move just a teensy bit faster if you wanna get off by the time this is over!” Ghostface cackles hoarsely, gripping your hips harder still. You moan in response, panic flooding your being with a sense of primal urgency to not only cum, but to get out alive.

You suddenly hear the door alarm; the others had finished with the gens, but still no one was coming for you. You can hear them opening the giant door to escape. Your sense of panic grows, making your hips twitch with both desire and fear. “D’aww.. they’re leavin’ without you, honeybun... so sad!~” Danny croons playfully, groaning softly still as you continue to move on top of him. Your brain freezes over, the fear skyrocketing and making everything more... pleasurable? You weren’t sure how that could happen, but you let out a louder moan as you look down to see the Ghostface’s built thigh under you, rubbing on your precious parts with lust. You moan again, unable to contain the fact that your brain is beginning to melt into nothing with pleasure, your hips finally moving on their own.

Your moans get louder and louder, the indication that you were getting close spurring Ghostface on to grip you tighter, his leg moving in sync with your body to help you along. “That’s it! Cum for me, darling~” The killer calls. Your breaths get heavy, cheeks warm as the feeling building in your tummy finally snaps at his command. Your back arches as you cry out, your broken screams accompanied by the laughter of a psychopath.

“What a good baby!!~ You made me so proud!~” He coos, nuzzling his mask on your cheek as you come down from your high, your legs shaking and your hips twitching. He gushes over you, showing you the stain you left on his pants as well as yours, giving your cheeks a pinch with his leather gloves. You can barely feel anything as Ghostface picks you up, and you wonder if he’s just going to hang you on a hook and fuck you there until the Entity came to claim you. If you were being honest with yourself, you would rather that have happened.

Instead, he drops you right at the gate: wide open and welcoming you through to the other side. As a goodbye until your next trial, Ghostface jabs his finger into your wound, cruelly twisting as you writhe and scream on the ground. He cackles wildly, kicking you right in the gut to get you through the door.

“’Til next time~”

[colsons-baker]

Animal - Billy Loomis

Lil Ghostface!Billy fun inspired by Animal by Maroon 5!

“Baby I’m preying on you tonight”

Billy watched the girl at her window as she prepared herself for bed, her body perfectly silhouetted in the shine from the lamp. She thought nobody would be watching, not now, not here. But he was, and he had been for quite some time. He was waiting, waiting for the moment when he could strike. Tonight was it, he could feel it as he clutched the phone tightly, a knife in the other. He pressed the call button. Let the games begin.

“You're like a drug that's killing me”

He was obsessed with her and everything about her. She was like his own personal brand of heroin, and he hated the comedown he was on right now. It was all a bit a fun, it’s not like he was getting anywhere with Sidney and besides, Sidney didn’t give him the same feeling she did. But she had called it off, said she would tell Sidney everything because he wouldn’t fully commit to her. God did he want to, but he had a plan and that wasn’t part of it until Sidney was gone for good - but now she risked ruining the whole thing.

“Maybe you think that you can hide, I can smell your scent for miles”

He could smell her perfume, the scent he loved so much. She couldn’t hide from him when he knew it anywhere. He stood in front of the closet, ready to open it and strike. His palms felt clammy in the black gloves as a thought flashed through his mind: could he really do this? It would all be over in a second, but could he live without her? His heart pounded fast, as he knew hers would be, as they both wondered if this was it.

[floralcyanide]

𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 ⋇ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Charlie Walker x Gender Neutral!Reader (NSFW)

You and Charlie are fooling around with Robbie’s live-feed camera. The two of you forget it’s on when you are in the film club room fooling around after class. (both Charlie and reader are 18+.)

warnings: smut, nsfw, technical exhibitionism, public sex, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, Charlie and reader are 18+

word count: 926

author's note: god there's just something that drives me nuts thinking about giving Charlie head like omg. imagine. anyway here's a little imagine just for that (: I hope everyone enjoys!! also @ethanlandryslutt gave me the idea to write for charlie so shoutout to them (I will write your inexperienced smut for charlie soon hehe)

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

When Robbie was suddenly summoned for detention for not turning in homework earlier, you and Charlie thought well, this is annoying. Robbie had been discussing how important this Film Club meeting was, even though it was just you three this afternoon. You had to talk about how to plan the annual Stabathon.

“I’m gonna have to leave my camera here. No one touches it, got it?” Robbie says, moving two fingers from his eyes to you and Charlie’s direction. 

You both nod, trying not to laugh but failing once Robbie leaves the room. After you stop laughing, you and Charlie stare at each other in tense silence. You are now suddenly glad Robbie has left. Charlie looks really good today, and you aren’t going to lie- you want to eat him alive.

“Is that camera off?” you breathe out, not moving your gaze away from Charlie’s.

“I’m sure Robbie turned it off. Why-”

You lurch forward, grabbing Charlie by his face and kissing him deeply. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, forcing his mouth open so you can entangle your tongue with his. Charlie’s hands fly to your waist, his fingers digging into it when you press your hips to his. Your fingers travel from Charlie’s face to the back of his head, gripping his hair softly as you deepen the kiss even more. You start pushing Charlie slightly backward until his ass hits a desk behind him. You’re both now kissing hotly, with open mouths as you pant for air. Your hands let go of Charlie’s hair and grip the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him more flush against you. You grind your hips to gauge his reaction, to which he lets out a strangled whine. 

Sliding your fingers out from underneath the belt loops, you make use of them to unbutton and unzip Charlie’s jeans deftly. He gasps when you pull him out of his underwear.

“Are you sure we should be doing this- oh.”

You look up at Charlie through your lashes as you lick his only slightly hardened tip. You feel him harden more when you start pumping his length before putting most of it in your mouth. Charlie’s hands occupy the back of your head, massaging your scalp gently as you take him deeper. His tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag but recollect yourself quickly. You take deep breaths through your nose as you relax your throat, taking all of Charlie in as you begin to bob your head up and down.

“Fuck,” Charlie exhales, throwing his head back.

Charlie has to remove one of his hands from your hair to brace himself on the desk behind him. You look up at him, admiring his angelic appearance when being pleasured. His face is all twisted up- his eyes are squeezed shut with his lips pressed together unless he lets out a hiss or moan. You feel Charlie twitch in your mouth as he starts to involuntarily thrust into your mouth.

You hum around his length, placing one of your hands on his tailbone, pushing it forward to allow his thrusts to go deeper. Charlie is a moaning mess, trying his best to keep his sounds quiet. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Charlie warns, pulling at your hair.

You suck in your cheeks, swallowing Charlie up as much as possible as he twitches one last time. He cums down your throat, and you swallow it up and milk him as much as possible until he can’t take it anymore.

Charlie pulls out of your mouth, tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans back up.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Jesus Christ. What’s gotten into you today?”

“You just look irresistible today, is all,” you joke, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand with a smile.

Charlie is about to return the favor when suddenly, you hear someone loudly running down the hall to the classroom. There’s an erratic knocking on the door as Robbie calls, “Guys!”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at Charlie weirdly before walking to the door and opening it.

“Are you okay, Rob?” you ask, concerned.

Robbie looks at you bewildered, and his face turns red, “Uh. I was told something was going on in here via the camera feed. And I came right away.”

You’re confused for a moment, but then it dawns on you. The camera.

“Fuck, I thought it was turned off!” you cry, running to Robbie’s camera, which just so happened to be facing where you and Charlie were previously.

“Haha, yeah, well, it wasn’t,” Robbie cringes, following you to the camera and picking it up, “Sorry folks, the show is over!”

Robbie switches off the camera, which is weird for him to do during the day. But this situation warranted it.

Charlie awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, “You might want to delete that from your site, dude.”

“Good call,” Robbie nods, “Take my laptop and do it. I have to go back to detention. Mr. Applewhite only let me go because Kirby popped in and told us there was an emergency.”

The rest of the time slot for Film Club is spent in awkward silence and a feeling of horror as you and Charlie see how many people viewed and commented on the feed. You quickly edit today’s feed and delete the part where you gave Charlie the best head of his life. Too bad everyone saw it. 

School tomorrow was going to be hell. Was it worth it? Maybe…

[minnophee-writes]

No One Escapes Death... Unless?

A/N: Hello again! I'm alive and well, just been really busy with job searching recently and had a job interview earlier this week so I had that take up most of my time. It's looking very promising so if I suddenly become very spaced out with posts then it'll be either because I got the job or I'm still searching ;w; Anyway, I hope you enjoy this Ghostface fic I did! Drew artwork that kinda inspired this fanfic as well <3

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Pairings: Danny "the Ghostface" Johnson x Penelope (OC)

Fic Warnings: Character death, blood, violence, knives, death, dub-consensual touching, dub-con, smaller female / taller man, size difference, dark smut, injuries, doggystyle, nonconsensual pictures and video taken, spitting, claiming, breeding, brief squirting, creampie, slight cumplay (if ya squint) (🔞MDNI this fic is for ADULTS! Begone minors🔞)

Summary: Screams echoed all around Penelope as she tried to work on repairing generators and helping her fellow teammates from being strung up on hooks like some sort of sick trophy. One by one her friends are slaughtered viciously; multiple, deep knife wound bleeding from the tops of their backs, and a river of fluids leaking from their mouths. When Penelope becomes the last survivor standing its a scramble to find the hatch before getting caught by the killer, but he's got better plans in store for her~

Word Count: 2,505 words

Her hands shook slightly as her fingers tried to pair the correct wires to each other, slowly making progress on one of the many generators around the MacMillan Estate, her heartbeat was pulsing fast and loud that it blocked out the harsh sound of her panting. It wasn't long ago that Penelope had helped Dwight off the hook after the killer, Ghostface, had stalked and ambushed him inside the main structure. Penelope had quickly assisted in patching up his injuries before Dwight then guided her to a nearby generator, promising to aid her in repairing it.

Dwight was sweating bullets and constantly kept glancing over his shoulder, his nerves were like a live wire and brain on high alert. Penelope stayed focused on her task when a piercing scream rang across the air, freezing the two in their place. She held her breath as she looked at Dwight from the corner of her eyes, a silent question dancing in her stare.

"I-I'll go get her, you stay here and keep working on the gen. It's got two pistons pumping so you just need to get the last one and you're done!" He slowly stood up and awkwardly started to shuffle away while staring back at her, "Don't worry, you got so much progress on it already."

Those were his parting words before he vanished within the dark fog that was floating around the atmosphere. Penelope nervously nodded her head, mainly to herself, before turning back to the generator - hoping not to accidentally connect the wrong wires together and risk blowing it up, and injuring her hands. While she worked on the generator and all her focus was on her task she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her - not until a light touch to her should spooked Penelope out of her head and ripped a yelp from her. The generator sparked and sputtered, from the harsh yank her hands would have done when she got scared, and her eyes darted hysterically between the gen and the person who had invaded her space.

The person who had startled her was none other than Meg, the redhead having a look of mortification and fear on her face from the generator short-circuiting. Tears streamed down her face as her hands covered her mouth and her breaths came out as fast, stuttering breathing.

"He killed her..." Meg muttered.

"What?" Penelope's brows pinched in the middle, a pensive expression marking her features.

"Ghostface!" the woman sobbed, a little louder this time, "H-he just kept stabbing her - over and over and over again... The sicko even took a picture of her after she was already dead."

Penelope went to console Meg when they both heard Dwight's scream ring out from the distance, sending a chilling feeling through her body. She managed to talk Meg into working on the generator with her so that they could get out of their current hellscape, they only needed to complete that last generator then they were scott-free! Penelope could only hope that Dwight was running the killer through many loops and pallets, buying them time to gain progress on repairing the generator. Meg's hands suddenly stopped moving, her head staring at the side of the gen and her breathing was a wet gasping.

Penelope froze, listening to Meg's breathing and slowly connecting the dots that is doesn't sound right, before shakily turning her head to the redhead to peak at what could be wrong with her. What caught her attention was the trail of blood leisurely flowing out of her parted lips before a dark figure looming behind Meg drew her eyes next. Her green eyes made contact with two, black holes glaring back at her.

Ghostface grouched behind Meg's body, his head tilted as he stared at her, his hand slowly creeping up to grasp the hilt of the large knife that was embedded into the other woman's back, and giving it a hard yank. A whimper escaped Penelope's mouth, her body dropped to the ground, and her arms struggled to drag her backwards - away from the killer who had just murdered her friend right beside her. He stood up menacingly, keeping eye contact the whole time, as his feet gradually carried him toward her retreating figure.

"What do we have here?" His gravelly voice sent shivers down Penelope's spine, her eyes widening as her back hit a solid wall behind her.

"Please... I-I'll do anything, please!" Penelope begged, "I don't want to be in pain..."

Ghostface seemed to pause, tilting his head further as if contemplating his options. Her words echoed in his head, sprouting a few sinister ideas on how she could convince him her spare her - a dark chuckle errupting from him as he then rapidly approached her and harshly grabbed a hold of her arms.

"Anything, you say? Well... I can think of a few things you could do to show me how much you really wanna live, sweetheart."

Ghostface then quickly lifted Penelope onto her feet and pressed his body against hers, making sure to specifically press his growing erection against Penelope's stomach. Penelope let out a yelp and clung to the front of his robe, hoping to push into his chest to create some distance but that was dashed away when he grabbed each of her arms and bent them behind her own back, binding her wrists with one of his large hands while the other started to grope her hip and thigh.

"So, Sweetheart, can I ask what your name is so I know what name to say when I'm cumming in you-" Ghostface leaned close to her face, his breath fanning over her through the mask, "- or would you rather I call you Sweetheart and Baby Mama? Since that's what you're gonna be once I fill that pussy up with my cum."

Penelope let out a shout in protest, kicking and thrashing about in his hold hoping to losen his grip but he held strong, not even budging slightly - patiently waiting for her little 'tantrum' to simmer down so he could get on with his plans. Her strength diminished in his hold and she eventually went still, her head bowed - she didn't dare stare into his eyeless gaze for fear he'd take her soul as well as her dignity. His hand roughly grabbed at her belt, struggling to unbuckle it for a moment before popping the buckle, loosening it before unzipping her jeans and rucking them down her plush thighs. He then shoved his pants down his muscular thighs, his throbbing cock springing up and slapping against his lower stomach from how hard it was. Beads of pre-cum leaked from the head, his shaft was medium length but was slightly thick which caused a pang of fear to shoot through Penelope.

"L-look, I'm sure there's other ways I can show how much I want to live besides this!" She stammered, her thighs squeezing together in small retaliation.

"No way, Sugar. This is happening my way or you're getting the same treatment I gave your little buddies, and trust me, you don't want me to play with you that way - do you?" Ghostface threatened.

Penelope's lips quivered and tears started to build in her eyes as she slowly accepted her fate, her own self preservation and fear of suffering a painful death ultimately winning over her own self respect.

"My name's Penelope..." Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, yet his keen ears was able to hear her but he wanted to humiliate her a little.

"What was that, Honey? Couldn't hear ya', gonna have to speak up!"

"My name-" She swallowed, a bead of sweat falling down her temple, "- is Penelope..."

"Awe, such a cute name for such a cutie~" He teased, "You know me as Ghostface but tonight you can call me Danny. That's the name I wanna hear you moanin'."

Before she could even process what his next course of actions would be he was already 2 steps ahead, manuvering her to the ground with her hips in the air - her arms still held behind her back. He squeezed her wrists in warning before letting her go, his touch vanishing and, so too, did his presence looming over her arched body. As Penelope debated taking a peek over her shoulder, she suddenly felt a cool breath fan over her exposed pussy lips right before the moist sensation of a tongue licked a stripe over her clit and folds.

A shocked moan left her lips as he did it again, the repeated action shooting bolts of unwanted pleasure through her body, her thighs quaked with each tongue stroke Danny delivered. A few licks later Penelope felt something small, yet thick, start to probe her opening, her hole fluttered at the contact as it circled her twitching hole before it slowly started to insert itself into her - Penelope then realizing it was his finger while his thumb rubbed against her sensitive clit. Penelope gasped which ended in a prolonged moan, her pussy clenched around his finger and drenched it in her arousal, a smirk plastered across Danny's face at hearing her sounds of pleasure.

"That's it, Penny, just think about how much better it'll feel once my cock's in it." He purred into her ear as he introduced a second finger into her, "Poor thing's practically beggin' for it."

Danny managed to fit his middle and ring fingers snuggly inside Penelope's pussy as it fluttered around them, his wrist and arm moving fast to bully the spongy walls of her g-spot while her juices coated his entire hand. Danny rolled his tongue around in his mouth to gather more saliva before spitting a big glob of it onto her pussy and finger-fucking it into her, making her more slick and slippery. Penelope's eyes started to blur and her brain felt hazy, she felt completely boneless from the pleasure Danny was giving her and a tight knot was forming deep inside her stomach, threatening to snap the longer Danny continued his fast, brutal pace.

"D-Danny... Gonna c-cum..." She barely managed to mumble out and he was quick to withdraw his glistening fingers from her pulsing cunt.

"Think you're ready for this? Heh heh..."

He grasped her hips tightly, arching her back and lifting her hips higher, alining his hard cock with her pussy and gently pushing into her - a stuttering gasp escaping Danny while Penelope groaned at the stretch, not use to a cock as thick as his. Each inch Danny would slowly fuck it into her before trying to introduce another inch inside her, almost cumming at the sight of her beneath him and clawing at the dirt in a very weak attempted to crawl away from him. He chucked at her and leaned against her back, smothering her with his body and pressing her further into the ground to ensure she couldn't get away.

"There's no escape. You're mine now, Penny, and there's no point in fighting it." He whispered into her cheek, lightly pressing a kiss there while shoving the last inch into her pussy.

He took a moment to get adjusted to her throbbing walls, waiting for her to settle before tilting his hips back and delivering a deep, hard thrust back into her, a wet smack following whenever their thighs made contact. Each thrust caused his balls to slap against her clit and pulled a sweet moan from Penelope, fueling Danny's ego and triggering his primal brain - his hips working hard to fuck into her with the goal of breeding her encouraging him. Danny's hands became restless and wandered up her soft stomach, gliding under her black shirt and pulling down her bra, his fingers manuvering their way toward her stiff nipples, pinching and tweaking them while Penelope squirmed from overstimulation.

"Danny, please!" Penelope begged but she didn't know what she was begging for - freedom or more pleasure?

"Don't worry, Honey, I'll make sure to fuck you so full everyday until it takes. I can promise you that." He panted while his thrusts got more aggressive, one hand going toward her wet cunt and rubbed sharp circles on her abused clit.

Penelope let out a scream, her pussy clenched Danny so hard it pulled a grunt from the man as he drilled into her faster, he panted into her ear as he worked to get Penelope to an orgasm so he could pump her full of his seed. Her toes curled and her fingers gripped the blades of grass as the knot in her stomach suddenly snapped - her shriek ripped itself from her throat, fluids shooting from her pulsing cunt while his cock continued to bully her g-spot. Danny's fingers proceeded to play with her bundle of nerves, pushing Penelope onto the line of pleasure and painful overstimulation but he didn't seem to care.

"C'mon, Penny... Gimme one more..." Was his delirious demand.

Penelope wasn't sure if she could give him another one, her pussy clamping down hard each time his cock slid into her gummy walls, his leaking tip kissing her cervix anytime he buried himself to the hilt. Danny leaned back onto his heels to glance at where they were joined together and witnessed a foamy white ring of her cum around the base of his cock, each thrust only smearing it across his dick. He groaned, quickly taking out his small camera and took 3 photos of the messy view before setting the camera to 'record', and placing it on the ground somewhere to the side. Pleased with what the camera would be capturing Danny then hugged himself around Penelope's body, his hips then manically bucked into hers, his own orgasm crawling up on him steadily.

Penelope's second orgasm came out of nowhere, her cunt squeezed around Danny's cock and pulsed in euphoric waves which triggered Danny to slam himself as deep into her as he could and shot rope after rope of potent cum into Penelope's warm pussy. Deep groans and little whines left the killer's mouth as he pumped his seed into her before he rested his sweaty forehead against the back of Penelope's neck, taking heavy breaths while his hands roamed over her fucked-out body - groping her ass and thighs before slowly pulling out of her puffy cunt. A few droplets of cum began to leak out but Danny just 'tsk'd, grabbing his camera once again, and used his pointer and middle fingers to push it back in - making sure to get it all on film.

Danny placed his mask back onto his head, shoving his flaccid cock back into his pants before rucking Penelope's panties and jeans over her hips, making sure that the panties would keep the cum inside her pussy and any drops would be saved onto the gusset. He took it upon himself to pick up the cock-drunk woman and carry her to the hatch, gently placing her onto the ground and nudging her into the open hatch, watching her disappear from sight but knowing that from now on she'll be his forever.

hope y'all liked it! Please be sure to like and reblog <3 <3 <3

[4doll]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 // 𝐆.𝐅 !!

(𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐠.𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥���� 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲, 𝐠.𝐟 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

Many hours ago you were being degraded by him, being called his slut, his personal whore, his personal flashlight that he can use whenever he wants. Now..

He’s under you, eating you out and letting you down on whatever number of orgasm you were on. “Mm good girl..” He mumbled as he stared up at you fucked out, makeup stained, crying, face. His cock got even harder.

He smiled as the top of his tongue touched your clit. You yelped in response, whining after. “I-I can’t. Please. I’m so sensitive” You cried out. “Just one more time? I swear this is the last time” You rolled your eyes the best you could. He said that last time.

“Fine” You murmured. His smile got bigger before he started again. His hands on your hips, the grip getting stronger as his tongue came in to contact with your clit again. You cried out. You knew bruises were gonna be left on your hips and thighs. You didn’t mind them until it hurt to even move when he went a little too hard. But he loved loved seeing marks he made on you. Loved knowing you’re his.

He started sucking on your clit, his right hand being removed from your hips and down to him. He inserted a finger, you moaned as he started pumping his finger in and out of you. His stamina was very high compared to yours. He could eat your out for hours, days even. He loved feeling your taste on his tongue, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers or around nothing.

“God you taste so fucking good..” He mumbled as he got right back to work, he inserted another finger. He started to pet your g-spot. You moaned loudly as you clenched your thighs together his head getting smushed. He couldn’t breathe.

But he kept working his fingers and tongue the best he could. He never minded when you would do this, he loved it actually. He loved being surrounded by you. Being suffocated by your thighs as he ate you out. He always hated it when you realized he couldn’t breathe.

“Are you okay can you breathe? I’m so sor-“ He cut you off, “Sweetheart please stop apologizing. You know I don’t mind” “I know it’s just-“ “Baby please let me pleasure you that’s all I wanna do right now” He pleaded, you just nodded.

He sighed quietly before he got to work once again. Instead, his fingers were going in and out slowly, small kitten licks. He took out his fingers as he used said two fingers to spread your pussy open. Seeing cum dripping from it from previous orgasms, and slick.

His fingers slowly went down to your clit to your hole, starting with one finger again. “You can start where you left off you know” You said embarrassed, he hummed. Agreeing as he stuck his 2nd finger in, “I can never get tired of this pretty pussy” he mumbled as his mouth attached to your clit.

His fingers started going at a fast pace, hitting your g-spot like a hammer to a nail. You clenched around his fingers, “Fuck! I’m close” you yelled. He smiled slightly. You clenched around him once again before cumming.

His fingers slowly and steadily working in and out of you. “Oh— Oh my god..” You said as you panted coming down for your high. He slowly took his fingers out of you. He put his own fingers in his mouth, groaning at the taste of you once again.

“Never ever can I get tired of your taste.”

You slowly got off him, laying next to him. “Last time you said.” You said to him, he whined quietly. “Uh uh don’t start getting whiny with me mister. You rewarded me very very good but don’t start get pissy because I’m tired” You lectured him.

He just groaned as he put his mask back on.

a/n: very sorry if there any typos, or grammatical errors. I am tired and made this before I went to to sleep. Hope you enjoyed

taglist: @sl4shers @starboashee @gr4veyardg1rl

[saffronwritings]

Pretending After Dark

A/N: Hi Hello this was highly requested from my friends after I wrote that initial Ghostface fic. They wanted smut so I gave them smut.

Wordcount: 2.5k

CW: Smut. Pure smut. Explicit Language and details.

Danny’s lines had always been blurred; he walked a fine line of maschiosism and rotting in the deepest pits in hell. Bringing you back to your apartment and stripping you out of that scantalizing dress of yours with all intents of fucking you senseless; drunk or not. You felt like your head had been spinning since the moment he growled into your ear, “ That’s very bold from the girl I already planned to fuck the brains out of.” 

A fire in your chest exploded and you both hastily paid off the bartender and headed out of the bar. Now he had you pinned against the bed, nipping and sucking on every crevice of your body. The moans escaping your lips were like ecstaty to his ears, he thought he liked to hear the screams of his murder victims. This was so much sweeter and he didn’t want you to stop. 

He went back to attacking your neck while sliding his hands up and down your body. Carefully paying attention to the way your body reacted to certain spots being touched or squeezed. He took note of your hips grindinding as he continued to leave little love marks down the side of your neck. He wanted you to never forget, he wanted to ingrain into you that you belonged with him.

That no one will ever touch you or send you over the edge like he planned to do, over and over again. 

Danny had noted the feeling of underwear, but no noticeable bra was on. You really had planned things out before hand. You really wanted this. You wanted him. This drove him almost feral, but he had to reign control over himself if he wanted to break you in ways you probably had never been broken. He stopped his attack on your neck and stood up and motioned for you to join him. 

He had pulled you close to him as he reached past your ass to grip the hem of the fabric on your dress. Danny pulled the material agonizingly slow up your body and left goose bumps in the wake of the fabric missing from your body. You indeed did not have a bra on and your breasts fell perfectly against your chest without the fabric restricting them. Danny slipped his lower lip between his teeth at the sight of you like he had seen in this very apartment before.

Expect this time, you were very aware of his presence; of the burning gaze that had been locked onto you since the moment he spotted you in the bar again. Danny shrugged over his oversized overshirt and quickly tugged off the black skin tight undershirt. Your eyes darted from his chest down to his hips where a very faint v-line was protruding. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you marveled at what a gorgeous specimen Danny truly was. 

His arms were toned, not overly muscular but you could tell he kept himself in shape. Little did you know the dark reason as to why he was so fit, but that was something he would keep his dirty secret. He hadn’t gotten caught and didn’t plan to now. Not when the most thrilling hunt was right in front of him. He kept his hands on you up until he moved over to the bed and crawled onto it. 

He had gotten himself up to the headboard and patted the spot next to him. “Come join me, darling.” He said in a very sultry tone that made you almost want to pass out right then and there. Little did you know everything this man had in store for you. You laid down next to him and his lips once again connecting with yours. A shudder ran through your body as his warm but gentle hands glided over your naked body. 

Cupping and squeezing your breasts, finding and lightly teasing your nipples, and digging his fingers into your flesh to bring out those delicious moans of yours. Eventually he broke from the fervent kissing and ducked down to encapture your nipple into his mouth. Sucking and swirling his tongue while his other hand continued to roam your body. Your body was shaking and sometimes jerking at the motions of which Danny was attacking your breast. 

You couldn’t think straight and by the time he ran his hand down to your underwear you were embarrassingly soaked. A small coo left his lips as he stopped his assault on your right breast. “Wow, you are absolutely drenched, bunny.” He chuckled, running his fingers over your slick underwear. A mewl left your lips as you tried to cover your face in embarrassment.

He quickly grabbed your wrists, pinned them against you head. “Don’t you dare hide that gorgeous face from me. I want to see all the cute expressions you make while I’m fucking you senseless.” Danny growled in your ear, nippling on the lobe. Before he could give you any time to think, he went back to assaulting your breasts with his mouth.

This time, he continued down to your hips and tapped on your legs. “Be a good girl and spread those legs for me.” He stated after unlatching his mouth from your left breast. You instantly did as he said, moving your legs so that they were wider apart. Giving him full access to you and your soaked self. “Someone is that desperate. You really are cute, bunny.” He groaned out as if he wasn’t getting turned on by every expression you made and the noises that escaped past those pretty lips of yours.

He wanted nothing more right now than to taste you, and not stop tasting you until you’re begging for him to stop. He ran his fingers over your soaked panties making you moan in response, and it took every ounce of control to not just rip his pants down and fuck the life out of you right then and there. He needed to have patience and to make you so sensitive that you forget your own name. He went back to assaulting your right breast, as it was the one closest to him, while he started to draw achingly slow circles on your clit.

Moans and mewls left your mouth left and right as you became overwhelmed by the onslaught of attention to your body. Danny noticed how your hips were trying to grind harder onto his finger as if the friction was not enough for you to get off. You were trying to get off on his hand. The thought almost made him cum in his own pants but he kept himself composed enough to move your panties aside to put more pressure and a little bit faster movement on your clit.

This definitely elicited another gutteral moan from you that drove Danny wild. He felt your heart rate pick up and your breathing start to hitch. Were you going to cum already? “D-danny” You moaned out during one of your breaths. He hummed in response and released your nipple from his mouth with a satisfying pop. “I’m g-going to cum.” You said in your state of ecstasy, grinding your hips at the same pace to match the circles he was endlessly drawing into your clit. He moved himself to hover over your lips and looked you in the eyes. “Then be a good girl and cum.”

It was like those words themselves sent you over the edge and you felt your body thrash a bit violently. Jerking to the waves of pleasure that was flowing throughout your body. “That’s it, bunny.” He cooed as he lazily drew circles with his finger and then eventually plunged two of his digits into you. Another moan left your lips as you felt yourself adjust to his fingers inside you. 

He thrust his fingers in and out of you for a few strokes before removing them and bringing them to his mouth. He wrapped his own lips around his fingers that had just been covered by your sex and your fluids. A deep blush spread across your cheeks and you closed your eyes to take a moment to catch your breath. He barely has done anything to you and he had you crumpling instantaneously.

Youve barely caught your breath before hes cupping your sensitive breasts and muddling your thoughts further. “As much as I want to keep teasing you until youre begging for me, I know we both want more.” He growled into your ear, making you nod desperately. 

Danny had every intent of teasing you until you cried that pretty makeup you took so long to do off. However, with every moan and every motion your body emitted had made the bulge in his pants grow harder. He let go of your breasts and went to remove his dark jeans. Your eyes immediately darted to his hipline as you heard his tisking beside you. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” He cooed, having you huff in response as you averted your eyes. 

He quickly grabbed your face and forcefully made you look him. “I didn’t say to look away.” Between his intense gaze into your eyes and the shortness in his tone sent chills down your spine. This should have been your red flag to run, everything in you screamed danger. Yet, for the first time in your life you wanted the danger. You wanted the excitement that came with the unknown.

You nodded slightly in his grip and he let go of your face and continued to undress himself. You watched with eager eyes for him to remove his jeans and see his length firmly outlined in his boxer briefs. He let you gawk at him for a moment more before slowly, as if teasing you with just the sight of him, removing his boxers. His cock sprang free from the fabric that was constricting it. Your mouth watered as all you wanted to do was wrap your lips around him.

It took Danny by surprise you when you adjusted yourself to the floor in front of your bed. You were on your knees patiently waiting for him. “What a good little pet.” He cooed, fisting himself while watching with you lust filled eyes. He nodded at you and you eagerly licked up and down his long shaft. A deep moan escaped his lips with the contact. When was the last time Danny had been treated to something like this? He couldn’t remember and certainly wouldn’t be able to recall as you wrapped your lips around him. 

Another deep guttural moan escaped his throat as you took most of him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to allow for a smoother glide. “Fuck.. You keep doing that, my dear girl, and I will surely-” He started to say, but was quickly interrupted by another moan escaping his throat. You had picked up your pace, swirling your tongue around as well. Danny couldnt help but buck his hips, thrusting himself into your mouth deeper until you had taken all of him.

He couldn’t help the growl he let out of his mouth as he felt himself getting closer to that ecstasy he hadn’t felt in so long. He had put both hands on each side of  you head and started wildly thrusting. It wasn’t until he released in you mouth that he slowed down, panting as he realized he just fucked her mouth so ravenously. You swallowed every last drop of him until he had stopped twitching on your tongue. You drew back slowly and he moaned at the achingly slow feeling of your mouth on him. 

Your sultry smile said everything he needed to know. You had enjoyed every moment of sucking him off, and even more so swallowing his seed with no problem. Danny’s eyes were dark with lust as he helped you to your feet before quickly turning you and pushing you onto the bed. The fast motion had made a gasp escape your lips as you made contact with the bed. Danny palmed himself a few times, stroking himself back to being hard at the sight of you bent over for him. 

He aligned himself to your slick entrance, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of your slick pussy basically throbbing already for him. You were squirming in anticipation and let out the sexiest moan when he pushed himself into you he had ever heard. “Thats it, bunny. Nice and loud for me.” He purred and then slowly pulled himself out just to thrust quickly back into you. 

You swore you saw stars with the girth of him alone. It felt like he was filling every inch of you. He barely gave you time to adjust as he withdrew again and thrust in deeper this time. Another loud moan erupted from your throat as he thrust one last time, sinking fully into you. He sat plunged deep into you for a moment, dragging his finger down you spine sending chills down it. Danny revealed in the sounds you made in response to him.

How perfect your body felt against his. He gave no warning before he started to thrust in and out of you at a dangerously fast pace. You were clearly not expecting it with a surprised yelp following with a string of moans and curses. Not a single thought could pass through your mind besides pure ecstasy. You didn’t care that you were probably going to get a noise complaint filed against you by your apartment building. You didn’t care that the windows curtains weren’t drawn so people could see you in your most vulnerable state.

You just wanted him to keep fucking you.

And Danny would do just that, with a pace that was both pleasurable and brutal. You don’t know how you had gone this long in your life without sex this good, but you just let him do what he wanted. He flipped you over and put your legs over his shoulders at one point, he had him ride you when he got too tired of thrusting nonstop. Wave after wave of orgasms flowed through your body and you had seen stars like you had never seen before. 

You had collapsed on top of him after your last and final orgasm that shattered through your body. Your breathing was labored and you felt your head spinning. He ran his hands over your back gently as you tried to catch your breath. He had helped you up to go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. The two of you had made quiet a mess of one another. 

His seed spilling out of you and trickling down your leg and your abundance of juices that gushed with every orgrasm that stormed through you. The room was drenched in the smell of sex and he felt like he was in a daze. You came stumbling out of the bathroom soon after, still completely naked and had crawled onto the bed next to him. You curled yourself into him and he rubbed soothing circles onto your back. 

He’d wake you up in a few hours for another round or two. Planning to thoroughly fuck your brains out before leaving first thing in the morning. Making you want more and to seek him out for more. He’d make you his, slowly but surely. 

[anitalenia]

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝒎𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒗𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒔.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 / 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒆𝒔.

[lackingspace]

I am begging, BEGGING. B E G G I N G! Please say you have another chapter of homecoming on the horizon for this spooky month?

I am on my knees for this fic, I swear I come back and read every couple of weeks it’s just *chefs kiss*

Maybe? Possibly? It very tentative, but uh there's a high probability. So...it might happen.

A crumb to build anticipation because I'm nothing if not charitable:

His cock was so thick and when he'd shifted to drag the knife up, intent on splitting your heart in two, he hit a spot inside that had you seeing white. Metal bit into rib as a strangled moan left you– more pleasure than previous pained whimpers, "I'm going to carve my name inside."

[happy74827]

Oh the Deadpool tag is trending? I wonder why—

… oh

[toxicanonymity]

EVERY INCH 4

SERIES MASTERLIST | SLASHERS MASTERLIST PAIRINGS: ghostface x f!reader; dark javi x f!reader LENGTH: ~6.6k words. The next one will be shorter.

SUMMARY: after what you did on the metro, you're ashamed and paranoid. javi crosses a line. ghostface does something he's never done before. so do you.

WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon, piv and various acts, somno, drugs, degradation, dirty talk, angst/shame, yearning, r-word in ref to past acts, breeding and "daddy" kinks, descriptions of (not actual) pregnancy. Restraints, blindfold. And idk, it gets weird. Anonymous ghostface. We enjoy surprises in this series, soo WRITER CHOOSES NOT TO WARN IN FULL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

A/N: Thank you for your patience and enthusiasm and omg all the love on the fics 🖤. Thank you negraarmadura (@theblackarmor) for your valuable input and inspiration. Also, @lunitawrites can shoulder some blame for the excessive breeding kink. Ty @saradika for the dividers.

🚨 FIC ART: banger collage by @aurorawritestoescape and action packed movie trailer by @carminepoison

Overnight, your fury and humiliation fades into gloom and confusion. Ghostface. You wake up itchy and dehydrated. 

You never imagined things would go this far. You should kill him, right? Ghostface? Don’t you have to? Think about what he did to you. What he made you do. You should kill him, but you don't have the energy. And you're too angry at yourself to have much ire for anyone else. 

Ghostface, a notoriously brutal killer, called you a serial rapist, and he wasn’t even really lying. How much of the metro disaster was planned? Did Ghostface orchestrate it, or did he simply seize the opportunity to watch, fascinated by your blind lust and rage? 

You didn't want to know. As long as you weren't certain, you still had that little sliver hope that you didn't rape a stranger at gunpoint all on your own. But either way, you did hold the gun. Either way, you took the man’s dick out and degraded him as you forced yourself on him in the middle of a public train. Lost in the moment. Feeling like it was just you and him, Ghostface. Until it wasn’t.

The day after the metro, it feels like everybody knows what you did. Every time you close your eyes, images of crowds on train platforms blur through your mind. An infinite audience to your terrible crime. 

You stay in bed, frozen, not wanting to face reality. Telling yourself it’s a dream. Sleeping off and on. Batting away uncomfortable thoughts–like when will you see Ghostface again? Is he going to call you? What will you do? You can’t get him off your mind. 

Two mornings after the metro, you drag yourself out of bed, then out into the world. At the grocery store, you bump into your older pothead neighbor, and he asks if you're okay. Your heart races, thinking he must know. It takes you a moment to remember why he’s asking – your friend Marla was stabbed to death just days ago, and she wasn't the first.  

In the checkout line, you space out until a man’s voice jars you from your trance. You apologize and put your items on the conveyor belt. When you’re just about to pay, you receive a text message from an unknown number, a fact which on its own makes your tummy tingle. When you read the text, your whole body turns hot: 

I’ll split your ass like a tangerine. 

The words land straight between your legs. As the grocer hands you your bags, he asks if you’re okay. You shake yourself out of it and nod.  The grocer wishes you good luck. At least, that’s what you think he says. Good luck not getting caught? Good luck not getting killed? Good luck with what? You decide you must have imagined it. 

In the parking lot, before heading home, you sit in your car for a few minutes, spaced out, wondering if you'll ever be able to go out in public again without feeling like this. Like everyone knows something awful about you.

On the way home, you can't get your phone to charge. You’re fiddling with the cord when blue lights flash in your rearview mirror, making your stomach drop. The lights turn off only after you're parked on the grass shoulder of the two lane road. 

Every second feels like a minute until a tall, blonde cop in aviators gets out of his car, stretches, and strides over like he has all the time in the world.  You roll down the window. He plants two huge hands on the top of your car and ducks down to look at you. For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything, just leisurely chews his gum. 

Then, he shifts his stance and asks, “How ya doin’, ma’am?”  Deep voice, smooth as butter. 

Out of nowhere, you feel on the verge of tears. Avoiding your reflection in his shades, you swallow the knot in your throat and answer, “fine.” 

He stops chewing and asks,“Yeah? You sure?”

You suck your lips together and nod. 

He looks from you to the groceries in your front seat and the mess of junk in the back, then asks, “Where ya headed?”

“Home.”

He bobs his head in understanding and glances down the road, chewing his gum again. 

Your heart continues to race as you watch his face for a long moment of silence. Finally, he speaks. “Well, put your fuckin’ phone down for me.” He raises his eyebrows and tips his shades forward, forcing his sky blue eyes on you. “‘k, darlin’?”

Your lips part, and you forget to blink until he winks at you and flashes a smile. Then you nod and mumble, “Uh. Yeah, sorry.” 

He fixes his aviators back. “Careful out there, ‘k?” After a nod and a casual tap on your roof, he walks off. You watch him in the rear view mirror.  

Are his legs that long, or is it the monochrome outfit? He adjusts his belt before getting in his car. Your chest bubbles with interest, attraction, and you curse yourself under your breath. 

At home, you try to distract yourself by watching a show, but it’s just not possible. After what he did—what you did–on the train, you’re terrified to know what’s next. What you might do next in this absurd state you find yourself in where he consumes your every thought. And it hits you, the sickest part of all—why you attacked who you thought was Ghostface. Not because Ghostface attacked you, not because he tried to kill you, but because he left you after getting you worked up. Ghostface walked away from you. He left you alone and alive in that alley, and it upset you. 

You find yourself at the bizarre revelation that you and Ghostface are the only people in your world that feel real right now. You’re inextricably linked. He’s the only one who really knows you. He knows your darkness. 

Are you the only one who really knows him, too?

Your phone dings with a text. It’s a political campaign, but you take the opportunity to re-read:

I’ll split your ass like a tangerine.

It gives you butterflies. It sounds like him. It has to be him. That’s the only thing that helps you relax.

(Some hours and a nap later. . .)

"What would you do if you had Ghostface cornered," Javi asks, sitting back and manspreading next to you on your sofa. He's nursing a Mike's Hard Lemonade from a case he brought and crammed into your fridge, pushing aside expired condiments and old takeout containers. 

You should never have let Officer Javi in when he knocked on your door. “Heard ya had a rough day,” he had remarked. “Pulled over?” he raised his eyebrows. There was something about him that made you uneasy, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice, so you opened the door.

It was impossible to miss the way he sniffed the air after crossing the threshold. You imagined he was smelling the cum of Ghostface and amateur Ghostface, even two days and several showers later. 

Pulling yourself back into the moment at hand – Javi’s question isn’t easy – what would you do if you had Ghostface cornered? What would a normal person do? 

You ask, "if I had him cornered?"

"What, you wouldn't do anything?" Javi challenges you. 

"I wouldn't get within ten feet of him," you claim. 

Javi chuckles skeptically. "You wouldn't kill him?" 

“No. . . .should I?”

"I think you have it in you,” Javi replies, then drops his voice. “Or you want it in you." 

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t let it go. You challenge him, "What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to be a victim. You're determined not to be." 

In a gesture that could pass for reassurance, Javi’s cold, broad hand rests just above your bare knee for a moment. Then he trails his fingers up your thigh, all the way to the hem of your shorts, close to where you’re now tingling. 

His voice goes down in pitch and volume.  "It's an attractive quality. . . Your lust for control." His face is dark with lust. 

You take his hand off your thigh and place it on his own leg. 

“See? ” he asks with a condescending twitch of his mustache in the corner of your eye.  

"Pervert," you mutter.

"You wouldn't shoot Ghostface with my gun?" Javi glances down at himself. Eyes following his gaze, you do a double take at the shape in his tight pants. 

Shame prickles your face, and you swallow as you admit, "Your gun was stolen." 

"I know," Javi nods with just the hint of a smile. "It was turned in." 

With an air of nonchalance, he takes the gun out of the back of his pants. He subtly rubs the side of the barrel against his hard cock as he pretends to inspect the firearm before setting it on the coffee table. "Now you can shoot him.”

He watches you look at the gun on your coffee table. The one that was buried in your cunt less than 48 hours ago. Javi continues, “But you won't shoot him, will you?"

"No," you agree. 

"Don't want him to leave you alone."

"No," you argue, mouth getting dry. “That’s ridiculous.”

"Oh,” Javi seems to be acting. “Too scared to shoot a gun?  We'll practice."

“No,” you shake your head, then ask, "How do I know he's the right one? The one who’s cornered?" 

"Ah," A smile creeps across his face. "The real Ghostface, and not just some guy in a Stab costume? " He raises an eyebrow. 

Over the next few seconds, your face goes ice cold.

"Shhh. It's okay,” Javi rests a hand on your back, then rubs it slowly. “I know, sweetheart.” 

He knows what? Is he involved in this somehow? Your question spills out before you can stop it. “What are you getting at? What did you do?”

The large palm on your back slows to a halt between your shoulder blades. Javi pouts in contemplation, looking at the ceiling like he's racking his brain. Another twitch of his mustache. Before meeting your eyes again, he subtly shakes his head, "Nothing," then bends forward, picks up your drink, and hands it to you. He puts his hand on your back again, lazily caressing it with his knuckles this time. 

Trying to calm yourself down, you take a sip. He nods encouragingly. 

You ask, "Are you even a cop?"

"Yeah, I’m a cop," he laughs. 

“Okay, pig. Who’s your supervisor?”

Javi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Ouch! ” 

Another sip of your drink. 

“Good girl,” he whispers as he watches you swallow. His eyes are right on your throat. The tingle simmers between your legs. Javi’s hand slides up your back to slowly rub the nape of your neck with his thumb and fingers while his hungry eyes scan you head to toe. How hard is he right now? You don’t allow yourself the glance.

“Listen sweetheart,” his tone shifts,  “I can’t make this any easier on you.” His thumb gently glides over the peach fuzz on your neck.

“Make what easier?”

Javi’s only acknowledgement of your question is to breathe out a small laugh, then continue, “But I can make it harder.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It’s in your best interest if I keep you company tonight.” 

With Javi’s crotch tugging at your peripheral vision, a mild arousal stirs in your gut, but you muster a look of disgust. “Or what?”

“Let’s not find out, ” he threatens. 

You scowl and take another sip, catching a flash of satisfaction in his dark eyes. He continues to caress the back of your neck, then says, “Unless you want to find out.” 

His thumb freezes right in the dip at the base of your skull. “Maybe I read you wrong. Maybe you do want to be a victim.”  He taps his thumb twice and takes his hand away. His dark eyes scan your face as he reaches for the remote control.  

Are you paranoid, or does he know something? You no longer trust yourself to see things as they are. You pray he’s just a creep, taking advantage of his assignment to protect you. If he were a worse looking creep, you might be more concerned. 

Two hard lemonades later, you’re lying on your side on the couch, watching Rosemary’s Baby with Javi spooning you and lightly caressing your lower abdomen, right at the top of your shorts.  

“Are you on birth control? ” he asks, which catches you off guard and makes your face and insides tingle.  

“Yeah, gonna put that in your report?” you answer. 

“Mm,” he sighs. “Bet you take it real well, too.” 

A pool is forming in your panties. 

“Same time every day? ” He doesn't wait for an answer before adding, “Even with all this going on? ”

No response from you.

With the softest flick of his thumb, he unbuttons your shorts. 

“You really think i’m going to fuck you, don’t you?” you ask as his hand plunges into your panties. At least those are fresh. Or they were. 

When Javi’s fingers reach your wetness, he groans softly. “I told you, sweetheart. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Rubbing circles over your most sensitive place, he lightly grinds his hardening dick against your backside. The warm pressure of his arousal makes you throb. 

This goes on for a minute, then he cruelly slides his hand out of your shorts. He smells his fingers. The crudeness makes you twitch and seethe. A moment later, he’s urgently tugging down your shorts. His forearm vein bulges as he wedges his hand between your legs again. Your knees open for him, you can’t help it. His cock is pressing so hard against your ass, throbbing for you. He’s rubbing you at a steady, desirous rhythm, and your body is helping your mind forget everything. 

Need is rushing through your blood. The only thing you can see is a climax in sight.  Your insides swell and throb for him. You think about his cock, you want his cock, but no, you’re not going to give a pig that honor. This will have to do. 

He breathes heavier, and so do you. Your hips move with his rhythm. Every once in a while, his middle finger goes down and teases your hole as he gathers more slick to bring upward. Then one time, his finger stays at your entrance. He wriggles the tip of his middle digit into you, then plunges it in with a grunt, as far as he can get. 

He pumps his finger and grinds his palm against your clit. Your hips begin to rock into his hand. He mutters, “mierda” (shit), to himself as he slides his ring finger in. His thick digits stay buried inside. His cock twitches, and he calms himself, slowing down. A moan slips out of your mouth when you’re on the edge, desperate for release. 

“You want this, don’t you? ” he sides an arm under your neck and across your breasts to pull you tight against him. The swell of his cock sends a wave of pleasure upward, through your chest. 

“No,” you choke out, but your hips roll into his hand. 

“If you want to cum, all you have to do is ask.”

“Fuck you,” you manage between heavy breaths. You’re almost there. Then, you grab his hand and hold it still against your cunt as you send yourself over the edge, grinding against his palm, gasping vocally, spasming against his hand, pathetically trying to hold back your moans. 

As it fades, you want more. Of course you want more. But you won’t give him the satisfaction. 

You wriggle out of his embrace to sit up and kick your shorts off your ankles. 

“I’m going to wash the cop off me,” you mutter in self-disgust. 

Javi is bemused. “He doesn’t make you ask, huh? ” 

Heat rises to your face. You stand up and don’t even look at him. “Fuck you, Javi,” you mutter. 

“Does he even make you cum? ”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you lie. 

Javi stands up, braces his thumbs on his lower back,  and pushes his hips forward in a stretch. A spot of precum on his pants draws your eye as he steps forward, his engorged dick straining to get out.  

After his stretch, he steps forward. His jaw clenches and his eyes are cold. He takes your jaw in his hand and looks from your lips to your eyes and back.  “Everyone’s going to know who I’m talking about if you’re not careful.”

Your stomach drops, but you manage not to show it, you think. “Be gone when I’m out of the shower,” you warn as if you could do anything about it. 

“Suit yourself,” he smiles slightly. “This time.” He adjusts himself with his dry hand. 

You give him one last glare. Then, your eyes fall to his hand, where he’s inspecting his two wet fingers, glimmering in the low light of the movie credits. His mustache twitches, and he walks in the opposite direction of your front door. You don’t bother redirecting him. You’re just glad he’s leaving when he exits out the back.

In the shower, you start to feel woozy. Did you drink more than you realized, or did Javi slip you something? It could have been either.  You end the shower sooner than you otherwise might, wrap yourself in a robe and lay on your bed. Aching to be filled, you think about retrieving a toy from your nightstand, but your sudden fatigue wins over.  Not getting off to the thought of Ghostface is a victory, even if it’s on a technicality. Instead, you fall asleep, thinking about the only man you’ve thought about for weeks. 

Your dreams are wild. 

Ghostface is working at a grocery store, with his mask on. He has a black button down shirt under a long black apron with a name tag that says Daddy. He’s rolling up his sleeves as he walks toward customer service. It feels like he runs the place. He stops in his tracks when he sees you. You stand frozen as he approaches swiftly. He grabs you roughly by the elbow and marches you toward the produce section as if you shouldn’t even be there at the store. 

He bends you over a crate of citrus fruit, and a fake thunderstorm booms from a nearby produce cooler as the vegetables get misted.

Standing behind you, holding you down on the fruit with one hand, he kicks your ankles to spread your feet open, exposing your cunt to the cool air. “You couldn't wait, could you?”  He asks, hiking up your dress. You aren't wearing anything under it. “Couldn’t wait for Daddy to get home...” 

There's a surge of need at the crux of your thighs, and you eagerly await his cock. Instead, what you feel is the cool, taut skin of a lime gliding against your dripping pussy. 

He slides the fruit up and down your dripping seam and pauses to grind it against your clit. The man knows what he’s doing. You throb and twitch and sigh as the smooth skin of the lime warms up. 

“That’s right, princess.” He wedges your legs further apart, so far apart the stretch burns. Then he resumes his work with the fruit. 

One end of the lime teases your entrance, then he pushes it into you. Your body sucks it up with ease and spasms around it. 

“Good girl.” His hand remains between your legs, hooking under your body to reach your clit. You whine as he rubs your sweet spot. The lime seems to thrust inside you with each rub of his hand against your front. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

He makes you cum on the lime, and with each of your spasms, your body sucks the fruit further into your channel. 

As your orgasm fades, Ghostface zip ties your hands over your head, fixing them to the sale sign in the middle of the produce crate. He leaves you with your dress still pulled up, ass and cunt exposed, twitching with aftershocks. 

“Please, wait,” You beg him to come back. 

Another worker notices you and fails to hide his erection. The man’s face is pink and spellbound. He stands there and rubs himself through his pants. He looks around furtively as he does it, watching you. And you’re a vision — pathetically bent over the fruit, spread wide open, moaning and whining for your man to come back and fuck you raw. 

A new sensation eclipses your awareness of the small audience. It begins to feel like the lime is growing in your womb, spreading your insides apart. You're increasingly aroused, feeling less and less control over your body as it swells with desire. You find yourself wishing for anyone to shove himself inside you—staff or customer. If only anyone with a cock would stop and use you. Please, you think to yourself. “Please,” you whimper out loud. You’re desperate to cum again, desperate to relieve all this pressure building in your belly. 

An older man approaches, undoing his belt, and he looks you over as he runs his hand over the outline of his erection, deciding what to do with you. He gets close enough to spread your cheeks and examine your cunt. Your hole tremors at his touch, and you whimper. You can feel from the air that you are spread wide open. It feels like you’re going to split at the seam. After examining your parts, the man mutters, “oh,” before deciding against it and walking away. 

Your whole torso feels like it could burst with the amount of tension swelling inside you. Your nipples are tight and sensitive, and you feel one of them bare against an orange under your chest. You look down to see your breasts, noticeably swollen, falling out of your dress. 

The fruit beneath you begins to dig into your tummy and it hurts. It's too much, paired with the aching need between your legs.  You cry out, and the other worker pages the general manager, Ghostface, over the intercom. 

-

When Ghostface returns, he snips your zip ties then roughly flips you over so you're face-up on a big pile of fruit. He ties your hands over your head again, this time using a plastic produce bag. 

“Well, look at my pumpkin,” he admires your body as he removes his gloves. Until you see the way his mask seems to stare at your middle, you don’t realize your midriff is exposed. Your dress has ridden up over your belly, which is rounder than before. It feels tight and distended, and you just feel so full.  He places both hands on your belly, feeling your shape. When you look down, you hardly recognize yourself. Your nipples are leaking. The one still in your top is creating a wet spot. Your other breast has broken containment completely. 

“What did you do to me,” you demand, with Ghostface massaging your belly tenderly. 

He groans and reaches up with one hand. Suddenly he clamps his hand over your eyes. The next thing you feel is a mouth sucking at your exposed tit. It feels amazing, all the tension rushing out of your breast, along with the stimulation of his tongue. He breaks away with a moan. 

“I knew you'd be delicious.”

So much pressure is built up inside you, you're dying to cum. He holds you by both your sides. You’re painfully spread open, inner thigh muscles aching. He puts himself between your legs. He grinds himself against you, and it makes your walls clench and convulse almost instantly with a groan that echoes. 

He pulls his hips back and watches between your legs as you surrender to another orgasm. “Look at you, drizzled all over the fruit,” he marvels as he watches your fluttering hole. With each wave, you feel your belly and breasts swell a little more until you feel and look like you're in your third trimester. 

“Please make it stop,” you beg.  It feels so good, but you don’t want your body like this.

He rubs at your dripping cunt, his flattened fingers gliding soothingly between your puffy folds. Soon, you're grinding against his hand. 

“Please,” you beg. “Take it out, take the lime out.”

“Might be too late, angel.” 

“Please try.” 

He relents and wedges three fingers together. The fingertips tease your dilated hole, then his three thick digits slide right in, the ease of it making him groan. The obscene squelching practically echoes as he fucks you with three fingers, and soon he adds a fourth. Your body accepts him, and welcomes the addition of his thumb. Soon his hand is reaching deep inside you, fist and forearm flexing as he searches for the lime. 

“Daddy’s trying, baby.”

Your body hugs his hand. “Please,” you cry, tears running down your face, from pleasure and pressure more than pain. 

“Let me see,” he muses to himself as he withdraws his hand and moves a finger down to your asshole. He teases the rim of it and you feel it open up for him like the rest of your body. Then he slides two dripping fingers in. With his fingers buried in your ass, you feel some relief. You breathe with the rhythm of his fingers, but when you see your belly heaving with each breath, you remember. “Please, please put me back to normal.” 

Ghostface sighs. “Are you sure, princess?” His fingers slide out of your asshole. 

“Yes,” you insist. 

He crouches down, puts your legs over his shoulders, and positions himself with his mask right at your cunt. He rests his dry hand on your belly, and his wet hand grips his mask at the edges. 

Just as he goes to take the mask off, the whole scene melts into a moving mosaic of fleeting thoughts. 

Everything but the pleasure fades away. 

Everything but the pleasure. . . and the feeling of being spread wide open. . . and your legs over someone’s strong shoulders. . .

Yes, there’s a head between your thighs, two strong hands holding you open, and a hungry mouth feasting on you with abandon. He’s grunting into your cunt with his tongue intruding into your deepest places, making your insides hum with need. 

Did Javi never leave? It doesn’t exactly sound like Javi. Javi is far too measured to be so—ohh, God, that feels good. It feels so good, you barely notice that you’re blindfolded. Or that your wrists are tied above your head, securing you to the bed frame. 

He licks up your cunt to suck at your clit, and he does it well. Fuck. A moan slips out, muffled by something damp and lacy. Your mouth is sore and gagged.  Your heart races as he sucks, and your sensitive nub swells with pressure. 

You’re still waking up, and your traitorous hips are grinding into his face. You’re close. His hands are on your thighs. You’re on the edge of climax, trying not to make any sound or sudden movements. 

When his tongue slips down to your asshole, you flinch. You squirm, but the hands hold you still. His thumbs spread your cheeks, and he licks a wide circle around the rim, getting closer and closer until his tongue is teasing your hole. 

Your nose twitches. You sniff the air, and breathe a shameful sigh of relief. It’s not Javi. It’s him. Thank God, it’s him. And it smells like he smoked in your room.

Ghostface pauses to mutter, “Good girl,” and the voice comes from between your legs, and from your right, as though he’s separated from the voice changer. 

And separated from his mask. Wow. You never thought he’d— his warm mouth returns to your ass, and he thrusts his tongue into you. A pit in your gut deepens with each thrust of his tongue. Your eyelashes flutter against the folded bandana that covers your eyes. 

You grunt and whine into the gag, then he begins to rub your clit while his tongue is buried in your ass. Before long, the tension snaps, and your vision goes from black to white. A muffled moan marks the start of your peak. His tongue slides out, and your body jerks with each spasm. 

“Attagirl,” you hear from both directions.

As you finish coming, he lays a cheek on one thigh and a hand on the other, stroking your skin with his thumb. 

“You were on a silver platter, princess. I had to take a bite.” Your nipples harden—you’re naked and your sweat is cooling. “You know how it is.” You don’t try to respond. “Had a feeling you wouldn’t mind,” he taunts. “And ohhh, Pumpkin. We’ve been having *fun*.” 

Can’t exactly ask what he’s been up to with a mouth full of your own panties. But you wriggle and groan in disapproval.  His face lifts off your thigh, and his hands are quick to hold you down and keep you still.

“Yeah, yeah,” he acknowledges your halfhearted effort, and you stop resisting. The fact that you both see through this charade puts you more at ease somehow. 

When you feel his breath on your hip, it’s clear he’s not done, and you’re not mad about it. You’re in a daze—Ghostface is in your room, unmasked. Between your legs. 

His teeth press into your skin, then his lips. He sucks hard, then harder, and the bruising suction makes you throb. You grunt into the panty gag. He releases your skin, then drags his lips to your mound. 

He licks up your mound and presses wet, hungry, open-mouth kisses along your exposed torso, licking upward between each kiss, all the way to your breast where he pauses to suck and moan into it. You whine into the gag as your nipple hardens in his mouth and you gush and throb.

He drags his tongue up your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The closer his head gets to yours, the more clearly you can smell him - his unique blend of pheromones, his sweat, the way it mixes with the weed. 

And then it slaps against you. His cock. Smooth, and warm, and hard against your hip, and your chest swarms with butterflies. You moan softly. His face is in the crook of your neck. He latches on for a suck and the dull pain makes your hips lift, seeking more of his cock. You feel an emptiness, a longing to be filled. 

His bare face nuzzles at your jaw. He drags his lips up your chin, to your cheek, to your ear. 

“Shhh,” he whispers, despite your silence. 

His lips slowly drag toward your mouth, dragging along the gag. With his mouth on your cheek, your lips tingle with an urge. And then he gets there. His mouth lingers, open against yours, his breath, hot and humid, enveloping your lips. His teeth scrape the corner of your mouth. He bites down on the gag while one hand fiddles behind you to untie it. His cock, now on your mound, swells harder against you and Good God, you need him bad. 

With a backward nod, he tugs at the panty gag, then lets it fall away with a vocal exhale, thrusting his stiff manhood against you. The loss of his lips on your face resembles heartache. 

Barely above a whisper, you ask, “what are you doing?” and brace to hear his real voice. 

Instead, his hand seizes your jaw, forcing your mouth wider open. And then he spits in your mouth. You taste it as it slides down your tongue, down your throat, and desire stirs in your gut. 

He releases your jaw. “Daddy needs to hear ya, princess.” He mutters breathily, and it echoes from your right, “Daddy needs to hear you, princess.”

You pull your knees up. He braces a hand behind you against the wall and grinds his stiff manhood against your slick mound. “Fuck,” he whispers, with no digital echo. Then, in both voices, “You want this. . . Don’t you, pumpkin?” He grinds against you, harder. “You want Daddy’s big cock,” he confirms, and you can imagine him nodding. 

“Yeah,” you admit in a whisper.

“Oh, yeah,” he replies. The slow, throbbing grind of his warm cock is devastating so close to where you need it. 

“Please,” you ask. 

“Please what?” he replies. 

“Please,” your chest tingles, “Please, Daddy.”

“Uh-huh,” he thrusts against you nice and slow. So stiff and warm. 

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you plead. 

He pulls his hips back, letting his cock slide and drop to where his tip notches at your entrance. “Who’s gonna fuck you?” 

“You are, Daddy.” 

“Yeah, that’s my girl.” His tip pushes into your yearning cunt. 

“Please, Daddy.” 

“That’s right,” his tone sharpens as he abruptly shoves his length into you, pushing your slick walls apart.  He shudders as he bottoms out. There’s a tingling burn in the stretch, but it quickly fades as your body gives way to the intrusion. And then, the overwhelming feeling is fullness and need for friction. 

His hips pull back, and your legs wrap around him, begging him all the way back inside. He slams into you, and you grunt with the impact as his flesh fills yours again. “Good girl,” he praises. His cock — How did you ever mistake another man for him? He slams in again, making you whole. 

As he fucks you, your thighs tremble, and you whimper, “Daddy,” drawing a groan from him.

He rails in, and slides almost all the way out. Each time, your cunt is pulling at him, begging him back in.  

“Whose little slut are you? ” He asks, his thrusts becoming sharper.  

“Yours, Daddy.” 

A bead of sweat hits your sternum, then your forehead.

“That's my girl,” you hear in surround sound. 

A salty drop falls into your mouth.

“Daddy’s little slut,” he breathes, “can really take a cock,” and the voice changer catches the last half.

He hovers his body lower, closer to yours. A thick steam condenses between you as he pounds you unforgivingly, even from the closer angle. Your chest, your whole torso, you’re all dewy with heat. And his skin, it’s so close, you want to feel it. You neeeed to feel it. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. 

Yearning to put your hand on his chest, you try to wriggle out of the rope and your wrists begin to burn. Your breasts jiggle and jut into the air with the effort.  His chest grazes your tits, and you gasp with the pleasure that seizes your tummy. 

You take a deep breath through your nose, drowning yourself in his masculine scent and the weed that hangs in the air. 

He thrusts sharply and stays all the way in, grinding against you. His chest grazes yours again as he brings his mouth to your ear, and feeling his breath makes you weak. “Cum for Daddy,” he whispers, and his lips graze your temple with another thrust. He raises his volume, catching the modulator. “Cum on this cock, princess.”

“Mmm,” You bite your lip and whimper. 

“One more for Daddy.” His thick, hard manhood drags heavily through your tight, wet channel, then he grinds again after bottoming out. His pubic bone is nudging your front just right. 

“Mmgh,” you whimper, “Daddy,” and the pressure bursts. You whine, overtaken by your rhythmic release, hips lifting into him. His heavy breaths seem to echo to the beat of your climax. 

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes, fucking you through it. “Ohhh,” he thrusts sharply and shudders as he begins to pulse. Your spasming cunt milks his cock. Your heels dig into his back. 

He shoots a thick, hot rope deep into your cunt, and with a slow thrust, another one.  Then his cock cruelly slides out. Your heart falls, and your legs reflexively tighten around him. You whine, “no,” with your desperate cunt grabbing at nothing. 

But it's only a split second before his dripping wet cock shoves into your ass. It’s just in time to pulse again as his girth spreads you open and he claims another hole. “Yeah,” He bottoms out and your whole body heats up. In surround sound, you hear, “Hell yeah.” 

He groans as he pulses, and over a few more beats and moans, the rest of his hot seed floods your guts. Each twitch of his shaft makes you shudder. You let yourself get lost in the warmth.

He breathes vocally as he finishes. Then his nose grazes yours ever so briefly, and you bite your lip. As he slides out of your ass, his breath is humid on your cheek and the corner of your mouth. When his face pulls away, your face feels cold.

He reaches toward the corner of your bed. Then you hear him rustling around as he puts his mask back on. 

“Untie me,” you beg. He gets off the bed. More rustling. When he comes back, you feel his pj pants graze your bare skin and you’re offended. 

He lightly braces a hand on your shoulder as he gets closer to where your hands are tied. The cool metal of his blade hits your palm and gives you a chill. The flat of the knife presses into your skin as he slices part of the rope and it loosens. You free your hands and bring them in front of you to caress the burn marks from your attempts to free yourself. He gets off your bed again. 

“You had company tonight,” he remarks. 

“Uninvited,” you clarify. 

“Ohhhh. *Uninvited*,” he taunts with skepticism. The location of his voice has changed—he’s pacing. 

“Jealous?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Want him to bleed out anyway? ” 

“Yeah,” you answer. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“He’s not a good guy,” you offer.

“Oh, princess. If he was a good guy, you wouldn’t let him in your pants. . .Wouldn't give it up that easy.” 

“I didn’t–what–If you were here, why didn't you do anything?” 

“Oh, I did a lot. Just not to him.”

“How long have you been here?” 

He ignores the question.  “Tell me, princess. Why would Prince Charming knock you out, and then just. . . leave?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “But I'm glad he left.”

“Cause he got what he wanted,” Ghostface answers his own question. 

“He didn't even cum”

“Oh, that's not it, princess.” 

“How would you know?”

“Think, Pumpkin.”

You’ve got nothing. 

“There’s gotta be one brain cell left.”  He sits down on the bed to put on his shoes. 

“You're not gonna tell me?” 

He stands up. You hear the woosh of his robe as he puts it on and walks away.

“Wait,” you protest. But he doesn't say a word. His footsteps recede, and you tug the blindfold down to see his robe trailing behind him toward the back door. 

“Asshole,” you mutter to yourself.

When you go to the bathroom, cum is leaking out of both holes, which shouldn’t surprise you. After cleaning up, you get back in bed and keep the blindfold with you. It’s faded green, stiff with sweat. You sniff it. His sweat.  Your chest feels light with forbidden affection. 

Then you’re back to thinking about the question he left you with.

What did Javi want? You push through the shame and replay it all in your head. And then, you see the way he held his wet fingers so carefully as he left, not letting them get contaminated. And it makes your stomach drop. He might be trying to do his job, after all. It unsettles you and keeps you up. 

You curl up under the covers, hugging a pillow. The bandana is wrapped around your hand, pressed against your nose and lips. The scent is comforting. You dart your tongue out for a taste, and find even more comfort in the salty tang. Then ,you take a wrinkled corner of it between your teeth. Your lips wrap around the cloth, and your body finally relaxes fully. You drift off suckling at his sweat. 

Thank you for reading!

Thank you for being here and sticking with me. I value each one of you. I can't overstate how much your comments and reblogs really help and motivate me. Your asks, too. I love knowing what you enjoyed most.

So, as for the series: Until now, I've never had the next part planned ahead of time. Now I have 3 more planned. We'll see if it moves any faster this way, but no promises lol. No estimates, but I'll tease when one is nearly done.

[floralcyanide]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 • 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

Part Two

Roman Bridger x AFAB!Reader

The day Roman first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and usually, he was good at reading people off the bat. But you were a different story. Naturally, you only opened up when necessary, not letting people in if you didn’t have a reason to. So you were guarded, and Roman didn’t like that. He wanted to worm his way into your life, no matter what it took.

If that took delving into his twisted past again in order to get to you, so be it.

AFAB - (assigned female at birth) someone who is born female but can identify with she/her or other pronouns. reader pronouns are gender neutral, so people who use any pronouns can read, but female anatomy will be used and described in this fanfiction eventually.

warnings: mentions of murder and minor character death.

word count: 1394

author's note: I may write a chapter from Roman's POV while he's in the process of killing someone. That would be so interesting to write!! Here's chapter two. (: thanks for all the feedback on chapter one!!

series masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

It’s been a month into filming already, and because Roman is so particular about how every scene is laid out, you’ve only filmed a few scenes total. You can’t begin to imagine how the cast has barely progressed overall. Then there was a script rewrite. And then another. Other than that, everything was fine. Roman talked to you whenever he had the chance to, which you found odd- but not too odd because you did have a major crush on him. So far, you have learned a little bit about how he ticks. You know Roman’s a perfectionist, but that could be seen from a mile away. He likes his coffee black with a hint of sugar, which he basically lives on while on set. You haven’t seen Roman eat once. Also, he’s hellbent on getting you on the main cast for whatever reason. He says you have a lot of potential, which you don’t really see within yourself. You like being hidden but seen at the same time. Like, if someone looks close enough, they’ll see you. That goes for life in general too. You have barely told Roman anything about yourself, and he’s somewhat pushy with that. You wonder why because there’s no possible way he’d like you back. But you told him he’d get to know you in due time. Then he’d realize you’re a brick and be uninterest in you in every way. There’s not much about yourself that you think is interesting enough to tell.

On another note, you accidentally became friends with Cotton Weary. Your initial meeting happened a few weeks ago. He was on his cell phone, not paying attention to where he was walking with a cup of scalding coffee. And sure enough, you just so happened to be in his path, also not paying attention. You were too busy replaying the conversation you just had with Roman in your head. It was the first time he mentioned you being a part of the main cast, and it flustered you. Why would you want to be in the main cast, anyway? You think to yourself. Who would you even play? Why is he so- your thoughts were interrupted by a deep gasp coming from your chest. Your torso had been covered in boiling hot liquid, and as it slid down your skin, you angrily looked up at whoever it was that subjected you to this.

“What the hell?” you screeched, and the man who spilled the drink on you nervously looked around.

Other people on set pretended they didn’t see anything, but a blonde girl came barreling to you.

“Goodness, are you alright? Cotton, were you daydreaming again?” she rolled her eyes, briefly scurrying over to a nearby table to grab some napkins before she returned to you.

“Cotton? Like, Cotton Weary?” you furrowed your eyebrows as the blonde carefully dabbed at your shirt.

“The one and only,” he said cockily, and the girl assisting you glared at him, causing him to purse his lips and look down meekly.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m sorry,” you cringed.

“It’s alright. I should’ve been paying more attention,” Cotton said, shaking his phone in his hand before shoving it into his pocket.

“You’re absolutely correct. You better hope Roman doesn’t hear about you assaulting an extra. You know how he is with them,” said the blonde girl, who you still didn’t quite recognize. You took some offense to her automatically assuming you were an extra, but you didn’t blame her. 

“Not to be rude, but what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” you asked as she looked at your shirt, satisfied that it was dry enough.

“She’s Sarah Darling,” Cotton says before the girl can open her mouth, “She plays Candy Brooks.”

“Ah,” you snapped your fingers, “I recognize you now. I just don’t really interact with the main cast much. Being an extra, and all.”

“You’re fine,” Sarah smiled, waving a dismissive hand before tossing the napkins. She almost walked back over to you, but Roman popped up and beckoned her to come over to him.

“Are you okay? There aren’t any blisters or anything, right?” Cotton asked worriedly as his eyes flickered between you and Roman.

“Not yet, but I’ll be okay. How about we both agree Roman doesn’t find out? I feel like he’ll baby me,” you said, making an annoyed face as you glanced at him.

“Why’s that?” Cotton asked, prodding a quiet conversation between the two of you about how much of a perfectionist Roman was.

“But I mean, he’s good at what he does. As long as the story is done its justice, I don’t care how many rewrites there are.” Cotton said, “Even if I’m the first to be killed off.”

You scoffed, “It’s unfortunate. But at least you’re in the movie.”

“True,” Cotton nodded his head, “Well, I should head to set. Roman doesn’t look too happy that we’re conversing and not working.”

You dared to look over at Roman, who looked like he was nearly seething at the sight of you talking to someone else. You gulped and looked back to Cotton.

“Yeah, we should probably get to where we need to be. See you around,” you smiled, waving off Cotton as you walked past Roman. You crossed your arms to cover your stained shirt and acted as if you didn’t see him there with his glaring pout.

Later that morning, you changed into a new shirt, and burn cream was very heavily applied to your torso by the medics. They said the area would be red, but it didn’t look like it’d blister, much to your relief. Roman, as far as you know, still hadn’t heard about it. You were glad because he seemed really peeved earlier. Roman hearing that Cotton spilled hot coffee on you probably wouldn’t go over too well. But one upside is now, over the course of a few weeks, you’ve become well acquainted with Cotton and Sarah. When they would see you on set, they always said hello. On most sets you’ve worked on, the main cast didn’t really give a shit about you. But it’s refreshing to know that well-known people know you exist. 

It’s a rainy Thursday, and you’ve forgotten your rain jacket. It hardly rains out here, so you weren’t expecting it. You show up to the set soaking wet and very bewildered once you notice the hysteria going on around the set. Your face is twisted in confusion as you weave around people, trying to avoid being pumped into. What the hell is happening?

You nearly sigh in relief when you see Sarah notice you from across the room. She excuses herself from the other cast members as she heads toward you with a solemn look on her face.

“What’s going on?” you ask, wringing out your clothes.

“Cotton was murdered,” she says.

Your heart skips a beat, “Pardon?”

Sarah looks around and pulls you toward an unoccupied corner, “Cotton and his girlfriend were found stabbed to death in his apartment this morning. No one knows who did it, but everyone is freaking out.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. 

You didn’t know every single thing about Cotton, but you did know he wasn’t that bad. For someone who spent a year in prison while innocent, was almost sentenced to death, and was framed for murder, he was kinda nice. He could be ignorant sometimes and full of himself every now and then, but other than that, he was a pretty stand-up guy. It’s a shame someone killed him. And it’s a shame you didn’t know him longer. You’ve long forgotten about being soaked to the bone by the weird rain shower. 

“Roman is worried about the movie,” Sarah frowns.

“Rightfully so,” you grimace, “It doesn’t look good that Cotton was murdered. Which is odd since he’s supposed to be the first to die in the movie.”

“You don’t think it’s someone from the cast or crew, do you?” Sarah asks, nervously biting her fingernail as she glances around at everyone nearby.

“I don’t know. But let’s not assume that just yet,” you say, trying to remain calm, unlike everyone else in the studio.

“You’re right. Hollywood is unhinged nowadays, anyway. It could’ve been anyone.”

“Right,” you nod.

Sarah is right. It could be anyone.

taglist:

@elliotss @jokersgrf @bridgergf

[belokhvostikova]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Halloween had stamped itself as Hawkins' favorite time of the year, where teenager party and murderers prow. And you come face-to-face with that, when a particular masked man takes a special interest in you.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, alcohol consumption, minor sexual harassment, stalking, mention/allusions to murder, and explicit sexual content: groping, degradation, choking, role play (serial killer), mask kink, knife play, oral (male and female receiving), rimming (male and female receiving), squirting, cum eating, squirt make out…?, semi-public sex, dubcon (part of the role play), non con, and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | What do you mean it's not Halloween? It's always Halloween. Especially when it involves Ghostface!Eddie. Oh, and this is also a Modern!Eddie story. But wait, can you image Rockstar!Eddie singing "In the Room Where You Sleep" as, like, a Halloween special- I'd have an aneurysm. Sorry, that was a lot of Eddies.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 12.8K

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Hey, it’s Eddie… or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie. I’m busy ignoring your calls, so leave a message or finally take a hin-”

The harsh smudge of your fingertip against your phone screen discerned your frustration, as you hung up with a huff, pacing your clacking footsteps a second faster than before. 

But it all fell short, when the heavy set of footsteps that trailed behind you only quickened to keep up.

Faster. Aggressively. Shit.

For the third time in a row on that brisky night, your call had went straight to voicemail. And you were ready to kill Eddie Munson. In retrospect, castigating your boyfriend for merely doing the very thing you criticized him about on a near daily basis—the whole “stop answering your phone while you’re driving” debacle that took place every time Eddie picked up one of your calls while heading somewhere, then rebutting you with a “but I love hearing your voice, it relaxes me” that he always whined out—was hypocritical, at best, but given the circumstance, you were exhorting to have your boyfriend disobey your word of safety for your safety. 

And the desperation that palpitated from the fervent clicking of your heels hitting against the rough pavement of the sidewalk to speed up your steps was starting to become humiliating. Because one step away brought them one step closer. By the nose, you narrowly glanced back. 

The same mask. The same hood. The same heavy boots. The same entity that followed you through the hallways of Steve Harrington’s wooded, stately home on the night of Halloween. 

Only the clock had struck a quarter past midnight. Halloween was over. The month of November had come. And yet, the figure behind you kept the mask on. Despite the lengthy walk from Harrington’s back patio to the intersection where Mirkwood and Cornwallis met, the mask stayed on. And your heart was beginning to race. You finally faced it. “God, you freak, stop following me!” Their steps halted. Gloved hand clenching around the handle of a knife that you wished to be of plastic. “My boyfriend’s on his way, so fuck off before he gets here!” God, you really hope he was. 

Turning around in a huff, your eyes constricted with frustration, as the steps behind you continued, in sync with yours. Coming closer. And closer. 

It’s just some stupid prank, you rationalized. It was one of the Stafford kids. Probably Declan Stafford. He was alway the worst out of the pair. It was best for your sanity to repeat that mantra over and over until Declan Stafford finally gave in and took off the mask. Only Declan Stafford was a fifteen-year-old sophomore. And you were desperately enforcing the incredulous lie that the possibility of Declan Stafford suddenly gaining muscle and height in the course of a single day was plausible. It wasn’t. But admitting that would be admitting that this wasn’t some immature teenager’s prank. 

And you were actually being preyed upon. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie… or is it? Ha-”

Why?! Why out of all the times Eddie blatantly ignored your concerns of picking up the phone while driving, did he actually decide to listen to you on the one night you needed him not to?! Straight to voicemail. Again. But when you angrily hung up on Eddie’s pre-recorded tone—the one you couldn’t find endearing at this given moment—you heard it- or rather, didn’t hear it. The quietness. The crunching of fall leaves being flattened under heavy boots was no longer lingering. A biting breeze howled, and a hunting owl hooted. But no footsteps. 

You hesitantly turned around…

He was gone. 

Your shoulders fell with the relief of your untightening chest, as your joints unlocked from tension, a foggy breath escaping in solace. For a moment, you relished in the quietness of the night with closed eyes. Something you hadn’t realized you missed so deeply until you had it back in your possession.

With a dissipating heartbeat, you ran a hand over your perspiring face that felt ablaze with terror. But Declan Stafford, or his other half, or whatever other delinquent freak that it was was finally out of sight, and you cursed the juvenility of boys during the night of Halloween. 

Fighting the liquor that buzzed your body with heightened emotions, you blinked the dryness of your eyes to steady the blurred disfigurement of your phone screen. Your thumb smashed against Eddie’s contact once more, a last resort to finally chew him out, as you teetered on high heels to turn back on your trek. 

Only, your steps halted at a sudden obstruction, and you watched the tempered glass of your screen protector crack against the pavement at your feet, as your heels stood toe-to-toe with the boots that plagued you. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie…” Your head slowly followed up the broad, black figure, “…or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie.” Your stomach sank to the stagger stature that overpowered you. “I’m busy ignoring your calls.” His mask, deprived of anything holy, stalked down your trembling frame, mocking you with the tilt of his head.

Your breath became lodged in your throat.

“So leave a message or finally take a hint.” Your mouth dropped with the words you couldn’t find. And he allowed you the grace of one step back, before…

“AH- mmm!”

The leather of his glove smeared your lipgloss with the tightness of his grasp, as your screams diffused into a muffle of wails. With much resistance, your nails bit through the sleeved fabric of his clothes, but nothing was penetrative enough to deter his strength, merely constricting your flailing body more with a muscled arm. Your enveloped screams cried of defeated desperation, as you lost your footing to the strength of his embrace, now at his mercy.

In the distance, a meandering stray may have startled at the abruption of your stifled pleas. But in the beat of a second, they’d continue their hungry journey for a helpless mouse or scraps, as your screeches would succumb to the darkness of night.

No longer salvageable.

-

SEVEN HOURS EARLIER 

“Mm… saw something touching your head, in the room where you sleep, mm…” You thrummed to the buzzing tunes, scrunching your face as an averse to the tickle of your makeup brush, against your greatest efforts of trying to stay still. 

But with a little black there, and some pink here, you squealed with anticipation of the night to come. 

Autumn had brought a chilling front to Hawkins, Indiana, and the small town of suburbia had never looked so good with a flood of orange and red crunching beneath the tiny feet of early trick-or-treaters. Credits to the Yankee Candle that burned its essence in the corner of your bedroom, the fall season felt at ease with the cinnamon apple that warmed your being. 

“You better run, mm, you better hide…” Should the day ever come that you discover that you were actually singing along to the voice of Ryan Gosling, you’d flip your shit to your boyfriend on an endless ramble, but until then, you’d cluelessly enjoy the ominous tune of Dead Man’s Bones in the name of Halloween.

In the reflection of your vanity, you shifted in the various angles of the beaming sunset until you were fully satisfied with the face paint that decorated your features.

You stood from your place, prancing about to the beat of the music, as you swayed your way to your bed, where your purchased costume displayed itself, awaiting you. While your boyfriend appreciated the art of Halloween, and had much interest in the horrors behind it, the anticipated “costume talk” fell on deaf ears- or, at least, defensive ones. Something about looking stupid, you weren’t entirely sure. Though, what you did know was pointing out the irony of not wanting to look “ridiculous” whilst sporting a mane like his in retaliation was not at all a good idea, as his response came in the form of torturing you in the dramatics of wrestling on his frumpy mattress. 

Touché, to Eddie Munson. It came as a good deterrence away from the conversation that would inevitably lead to him wearing something you sparked from Pinterest. Because in the end, Eddie Munson could never say no to you. 

No matter how stupid he’d look. 

But, as any reputable couple therapist would advise, compromise is key. And where you insisted on a cute couples costume, Eddie met you with the request to, at least, get to choose what that may be. And much props to him, you swooned at the adorable idea of being the abducted cow to his alien. 

Only, Eddie didn’t allow you to celebrate too soon, as he vowed to go the whole nine yards. Devoid, black contacts; gargantuan, bald head; pale, soulless skin; creepy, gross tentacles. “I’m Heidi Klum-ing this bitch, sweetheart.” That night, you regretted ever showing him the moment a 5’9 worm walked the carpet. Something Eddie Munson severely got a kick out of. 

You straightened out your patterned skirt, smiling for the night that was about to come. With shoes needed for completion, you turned to retrieve your platform pumps, only… your peripheral had caught the silhouette of something- someone… staring… watching… stalking. 

Claiming the once calm view of your bedroom window. 

The October chill brought a draft against your mother’s clothesline, where her linens flowed in the evening setting, and there it was. Peaking through sheets, masked, and dark. 

Your eyes squinted to confirm the sight, as you hid behind your curtains, feeling your stomach plummet. What a psycho. Understandably, Halloween had declared itself around the idea of fright, but that came with the common consensus of harmless jumpscares and innocent pranks, not trespassing. “Stupid teenagers.” You mumbled to yourself. 

But a sudden bang from inside your house had you gasping, petrified. “Dad?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood with alarm. “Mom?” Footsteps rang closer.

And closer.

“Hey- woah.” Eddie Munson, himself, flinched at the sudden shriek that left your mouth at the abrupt opening of your bedroom door. His brow cocked at the heaving of your breath, your hand clutching to your chest. “Hey, sorry, it’s just me, baby, you alright?” He eyed you.

“Shit…” You huffed out. “You scared me!” Your mouth pouted at the chuckles he teased you with. 

Eddie smiled, mimicking your pout in faux sympathy. “Why? Thought you heard me comin’ in.”

“Ugh, well, yeah, but some immature kid is-” You turned back to your window, where suddenly nothing but your mother’s laundry hung to dry in the emptiness of your yard. They were gone. “I- what?” You inspected closer, your breath humidifying the glass. 

Eddie questioned your strange behavior. “What?”

You rotated in his direction. “N-Nothing. It was nothing- anyway, what are you doing here?” In an attempt to recover your uncanny nature, Eddie scoffed at the hasty rudeness your tone snapped towards him. 

“Well, for one, your dad let me in.” He stated matter-of-factly. “Y’know, I think he’s really starting to warm up to me.” His eyebrows jumped with cockiness.

And it became your turn to scoff at his presumptuousness. “If anything, he hates you a little bit more this time of year.” Because Halloween of 1984 became the year Hawkins, Indiana was terrorized by the vandalism of hoodlums, coined the “Toilet Paper Bandits.” Plastered on every front page of the Hawkins Post, the column followed the story of homes that became a victim of delinquency. Yours being one. Where you could find a little humor in your house, amongst others, being TPed, your father, as a mortgage-paying homeowner, became quite livid. In fact, you could vividly remember the rage of, “of course, it was that Munson boy,” when surveillance caught your soon-to-be boyfriend smiling sadistically with a roll of toilet paper in hand amongst his friends. “You gave him PTSD. He’s vowed to stay up all night to catch any ‘Munson wannabes.’”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Hey, now, if it wasn’t for that night, his beautiful daughter wouldn’t be getting treated right by her strong, sexy boyfriend.” He smoldered in pride. And, as much as you could roll your eyes at Eddie Munson, he was far from fibery, as the night that followed Halloween of 1984 was filled with the sincerest apologies to all sufferers of his actions (not really, just you, as he always thought you were cute).

“Whatever, but seriously, though, Eddie, you’re not supposed to be here ‘til later, why are you here?” You interrogated. “I still have to finish getting ready, you do, as well.” You emphasized. 

With calloused hands delicately caressing your face, Eddie thought of his next move. “Aw, look at you, my cute, little heifer.” Because if not buttered up with affection, he knew you’d be devastated at the news to come. 

Your mouth fell agape. “Don’t say heifer!” Your hand collided with his chest. “Say cow! Cow is much cuter than heifer!” 

And he chuckled at your annoyance, always proud of his accomplishments that left you feisty. “You’re right, I’m sorry, baby. You are a very gorgeous cow! Best out of stock! You’d be, like, the one the farmer doesn’t slaughter for a burger.”

“Right, just kept to be bred for the entirety of my life.” While only a joke, you knew his sick mind would run miles with it, as the inevitable lip bite came to play. 

“Ooh, now that you mention it-”

“Don’t even start, you freak!” Your hand brandished over his mouth, only for you to shriek at the contact his wet tongue made with your palm, before taking a playful bite of your skin.  

But with the bite came an abundance of kisses to your fingers and knuckles, as Eddie held your hand close to his lips, eyes peering down at you with caution. “Please don’t be mad at me.” His words mumbled against your skin. 

Your brows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

Eddie sighed. “Boomer called me.”

You knew what entailed when Boomer called. “No!” You couldn’t help the petulant whine in your voice. 

“He wants me at the shop tonight.” Eddie kissed his teeth with a groan. And before your mouth could even form the hurdling question as to why, Eddie was there to clear it up with a sweet kiss to appease the disappointment. “We got a couple’a cars Boomer’s been hounding on us to get finished. ‘Specially, since Rick just had his baby, n’ all, we’re down a man. And y’know, honey, all the guys got wives and kids and shit, it was easier for me to stay overnight, and get as much done as possible.”

“But Steve’s party!” You huffed. “We were supposed to go tonight. We were supposed to do the Monster Mash!” Eddie’s heart sunk at the misery of your face. Where something as silly dancing may have landed insignificant in the grand scheme of life, you were the first person to cement the fact that with Eddie Munson nothing was trivial. 

You cared for the little things with him. 

Your head dropped with defeat. “Aw, I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” He ventured to meet your eyes. “Look, it’s a little extra money, I’ll take you out on a real nice date-”

“No, it’s not even- ugh, I just spent so much time on the costume.” Granted, it was nothing but ordering overly priced cow printed clothes from various websites, but it really did hurt when the hot glue gun came in contact with your finger, as you strived to glue a mini UFO toy to your headband. “I really wanted to go-”

“Sweetheart, please go.” He encouraged. While not the usual rhetoric, as Eddie Munson always prided himself in being by your side, especially with events such as an infamous Steve Harrington Halloween party, he could put it aside if it meant you’d enjoy your night rather than sulking alone on Halloween.

In retrospect, should you have done so, maybe you still would have been alive today…

“Just promise me you’ll stick by Harrington and Rob, okay?” Despite the slumped shoulders of disappointment, you nodded to his request, and pecked his chin to pacify any guilt he may have been harboring for the turn of events. “Or hell, even Wheeler, saw her bitch out Carver for accidentally knocking over the newspaper stand, and with the look on his face, I trust her to do more harm than Stevie and his Farrah Fawcett hairspray.”

“I’m gonna look stupid just being an abducted cow.” You huffed, as you examined your DIY alien spacecraft headband, puffing out a giggle at the extensive amount of hot glue it took to secure the toy to the hair piece.

And Eddie Munson was right there to laugh along with you. “Believe me, baby, with what I had planned, you would’ve looked more stupid with me.” With a pout still distinguishable through your pitiful giggles, Eddie gently kissed your forehead, careful to not smudge the black spots that adorably littered your face. “I’ll try to finish up as fast as I can, and make it before the cops turn up, okay?”

“You sure you won’t be too exhausted?”

“To do the Monster Mash with you?” Eddie scoffed. “Hell no!” And he smiled, as your chest erupted in a bubble of laughter. “Might smell a little like grease, but so be it. Hell, I’ll even stop by the trailer, and come as an alien mechanic. Probe you with my wrench if you’ll let me.” 

Eddie flicked out his tongue, and you squealed, as he attempted to smother you in his perverted ways. “Get off of me, you freak!”

“Alright, alright.” He calmed you through your fit of chuckles. “How ‘bout,” he quickly kicked closed the door of your bedroom, “you show that little number you’re wearing tonight, so I can know what’s waiting for me? Little motivation, if you will.” He winked. 

“Ugh, my dad really does hate you, y’know?” Your arms instinctively caught around his neck, as his veiny hands gravitated to your ass. 

Eddie derided. “Ha, just ‘cause I love eating my raw, juicy steak.”

“Ew, you perv!” Your laughter was concealed by the capturing of his lips.

By the grace of your closed bedroom door, your parents were spared from the spank of Eddie’s hand against the meat of your ass that rippled with a stinging clash.

Eddie moaned. “You love it. You so fucking love it.”

You did. You so fucking did.

-

In the lonesome of the darkness, Eddie smiled to himself. The heat of his phone radiated against his skin, warming his cheek, as your squeals brought a joy to him like no other. “Oh, my god! You guys look so cute!” Even through the static of distance that blurred with the background of house music, your voice still lit a desire in him that could never be extinguished. “You’re- Eddie, they’re so cute!” Sandwiched between your shoulder and head, you played around with Robin’s tie, as she—among Nancy and Chrissy—geeked at the enthusiasm of your compliments. 

Despite his absence, your refusal to his exclusion left you detailing the present moments of Steve Harrington’s party over a call that surely overheated the phone. And what Eddie figured was the greeting of your friends may have left you a bit distracted from him, your distant conversation was enough to have him chuckling to himself, relishing in the moment that made it feel as though he was actually there.

“Ah, you even added the tattoos on your hand!” You screeched. “Oh, and your hair-” You moved onto Chrissy.

“It’s a wig! I couldn’t commit, ugh!” She clarified with a drunken slur that confirmed the group was well acclimated to the party, before you had arrived. 

“Eddie! Eds!” 

Eddie huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, baby, I’m here.”

“Chrissy’s Phoebe! A-And Nance is Lucy! And, of course, Robin is Julien!” You shouted over the thrum of the music. “And they’re all wearing their matching suits! Boygenius! You remember? T-The songs I showed you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled, a wish so vastly that he could experience your face of pure zeal. “Take pictures, baby, I wanna see it all.”

“Aye, where’s your other half?” Breaking through the static, that frat voice was far too familiar for Eddie to ignore.

“Oh, baby, please tell me if Stevie’s wearing something stupid!” He begged. If it wasn’t for the things Eddie Munson could hold over Steve Harrington’s head, their friendship would’ve succumbed to the awkward tension that came from being polar opposites in the hierarchy of high school. Call it karma for all the comments from The King’s friends that irritated The Freak’s life. But it was the teasing that allowed their “hatred” to manifest nicely. A genuine development into frenemies. And given that Halloween of last year was spent with Eddie Munson berating Steve Harrington on his “lazy” choice of a costume—nothing but pants with tiny, red flags held within his waistband; i.e., a walking red flag, i.e., Steve Harrington’s excuse to walk around shirtless—The Hair, himself, vowed to come up with something more… creative.

Your laugh vibrated through the speaker. “Oh, Steve, what are you wearing?” Your hand clasped over the shock of your gaping mouth. 

Eddie practically lunged through the phone. “What?! What is it?!”

“Your boyfriend isn’t the only one who can rock a vest.” Steve’s cockiness garbled through the heavy gulp he downed of whatever tainted his red solo cup. And with the vest, accompanied the tightest jorts you’d ever witness. Something old, like the Levi’s of his sophomore year, found in the ensemble of polos and sweaters of his closet that he could commit to destroying. And that he did, with the kitchen scissors of his mother, those pants turned into shorts, that then paired with knee pads and boots. “I’m Steve!” He spat into the mic of your phone, after drunkenly stealing it from your hands. “‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin!” That Farrah Facett hair spray wasted to good use to slick back his mane.  

Leave it to Steve Harrington to find a more creative way to be shirtless on Halloween night. 

Despite now being pressed against the warmth of Steve’s ear, you could hear the guttural laughter of your boyfriend echo through. “Steve, give me my boyfriend!” You whined. 

But your pleas went unheard. “Oh, man, I told you I was going all in!” These were the guys that claimed to hate each other? Yeah, right. “Nah, the girls are lovin’ it! Got the abs out n’ everything! All I gotta do is ask ‘em to wrestle, and they’re gigglin’ their shit off! I’m so getting laid!”

“Give me my phone back!” Your efforts fell unaccomplished, though. 

“And where’re you at, man? I’ve got people asking for your supply! Thought you were comin’.” You rolled your eyes at the lost cause repossessing your phone became. 

But you allowed your boyfriend to be virtually stolen, as the entourage of lesbians had plans to whisk you away to get something in your system for the night. Though, without his presence for reassurance, you were conscious of what you could manage, and kept it light enough for your body to buzz with relaxation. Eventually, your strength was able to pry away your phone from the sweaty hands of Steve Harrington, but not before his booze breath pervaded you with the stern information that he was in charge of you for the night, as per request of Eddie Munson. But, with pupils dilated like his, distractions being as easy as beautiful ladies walking by, and the atrocity of his outfit that left no room for seriousness (or the imagination, for that matter), Nancy Wheeler threw you the responsible look of understanding that she’d cover that shift. 

By the dead of night, you’d succumb to the rhythm of the music, and let your body fall to the beats that vibrated your soul with liberation. With bodies decorated in costumes swaying against you from every direction, you never minded the tease of a hand brushing your skin. Packed like sardines in the humidity of an October party, accidents were bound to occur. 

But accidents don’t repeat.

And when fingers started squeezing, your head whipped around, only to catch what was a glimpse of a masked man slipping away. Through the beer goggles you harbored, you blinked at what looked far too familiar for your liking, but between dancing silhouettes and blinding strobe lights, your drunken mind couldn’t confirm what you didn’t want to know.

“Hey, you alright?” Robin’s breath fanned against your cheek, as she pulled your attention from the blank directions you were staring into.

You dryly swallowed. “Um, yeah…” Spoken far too unconvincing for your friend. “Just, uh, Steve wouldn’t let, like, um, underclassmen in, right?” 

“What, no, why?” She invited. “Shit, don’t tell me Dustin and the little rugrats are here!” Her sporadic eyes started bouncing from corner to corner. 

“No, no.” You brushed off her concerns, before they amplified to the degree of telling Nancy Wheeler. “Just thought I saw another freshman or sophomore, like, one of the Stafford twins.”

At the mention of the name, her eyes rolled on cue. “Those little shits? Yeah, wouldn’t put it past them to try to crash.”

Robin Buckley hadn’t known just how relieving those words were to you. With a solidified threat entailing your boyfriend, you could control the tiresome plague of teenage boys. But a pit in your stomach lingered where you didn’t like, as you briefly looked over your shoulder, but nothing but blended bodies blurred your vision in a haze. You took a deep breath, swiping the sweat that beaded along your hairline.

Clinging to her tie, you pulled Robin close to tell her of your departure for another drink. While allowing you to do so, her instructions of “not too much” trailed behind, landing on defiant ears. Your thrown thumbs-up was a lie, as more booze was felt necessary to rid that precedent feeling that still stiffened your hairs in apprehension. Because the what if's were beginning to outweigh the most likely occurrence; that it was someone dangerous stalking you, not one of the Staffords or their peers.

Navigating passed figures, your heels clicked against the kitchen tiles of the Harrington household, where sparse bodies littered about; a pause to the intensity of the late Halloween hour. 9:57 P.M, blinding you against the photo of your boyfriend, as your eyes blinked to adjust to the harshness of your phone screen. 

Holding up ok baby

Awaiting you for the past seventeen minutes, you clicked his message, and scrambled to respond, before any concerns were drawn from your stagnation. 

Yup, yup! Pretty packed, so I’ma getting a drink.

Your buzzing, inebriated mind conjured back. And within the pause of a couple seconds, the bubbles of his response appeared. You frowned. The image of Eddie bored out of his mind, surrounded by the cold metal of the mechanic shop, with nothing but fumes and grease tormenting his body had pestered your mind with guilt. 

Are you okay? 

Bored?

Would you bea ble to come? Now!

Leave it to your intoxication to interrupt his pending bubble. Though, there was never a care on his end. A smile always invaded his face when you were on the other line.

I’m ok sweetheart 

Not too much to drink ok

Not yet baby got some cars still needing a fix but I’ll try to make it as soon as possible

I love you

Your shoulders slumped with the huff that exasperated from you. You shoved your way past the drunks that habited the cooler, as you pried a beer bottle from the ice. Too annoyed to deal with the water droplets that froze your hand against the glass, you settled on plucking a cup from the stack.

 😡

I love you, TOO!

With a groan of all your strength, you popped the cap against the counter, letting the metal clink against the floor. You watched with blank eyes, as the amber liquid aggressively swished within the plastic, hearing the echo of your breath pounding against your ear. But, in the matter of a second, the hairs of your neck shot with heightened alarm, your heart following soon after with a beat anxiously faster than before. 

You stood frozen, your eyes darting, but ultimately losing to the depth of blackness surrounding you. Nothing. It had to be nothing. 

Until the air from your nose fell motionless, and your chest became inert. 

The breathing… continued. It was never yours to begin with. 

You swallowed thickly, before whipping behind you, flinching back at the staunch build of the man in black. In an eerie contrast, his blindingly white mask scrutinizes your wavering frame. 

Your mouth fell open to his arm that shamelessly came around your waist, and suddenly your hands were shoving against the density of his chest to pry him off. “You pig!” The words involuntarily flew from your mouth to spite him. In retrospect, seeing the broadness of his shoulders run along the towering height of his stature should have been enough confirmation that what you were dealing with was far beyond the likes of a juvenile teenager, but with a drunken mind fueled with vexation, you lost the necessity to see clearly. “Touch me again, and I’ll have you thrown out, asshole!” You spat back.

In an attempt to put an end to all of this, your hand gravitated towards his mask, hoping to peel off the confidence that cloaked his cowardness. But as your fingertips grazed the plastic, his gloved hands snatched a harsh hold of your wrist, forcing a gasp to be caught within your throat, as you flinched back. 

Nothing but the black eyes of his mask pierced your soul, as he stood silent, his hand flexing cruelly against your skin. 

Your chest heaved with the rapid beat of your heart, as it took all your strength to release yourself from his restraints. You quickly grabbed your drink and phone, not wasting a second to run away from the man, who did nothing but watch you run off in the blur of the crowd. 

Much to his dismay, it was you dragging Steve Harrington away from the pretty lady that was giggling her way into his bedroom later tonight. “W…What the h-hell?” He hiccupped. 

“Can you kick that person out?!” Your urgency came with your aggressive finger pointing towards his kitchen. “God, they’re being creepy and weird, a-and they were, uh, they were touching me-”

“Okay, okay, just take a breath.” Steve calmed you through your inebriated panic. “What guy? What person?”

Because when Steve Harrington followed the trail of your finger, it all led to the emptiness of his kitchen. Nothing but the casual partygoers, who did nothing but huddle in the corner, nursing their drinks. “Him… uh, h-” You squinted the hazy booze from your vision, but no matter how harsh the blinks were, he was gone. “H-He was just there. The, um, the Scream mask guy, y’know? Him?!”

“I- Y/N,” he really tried to give you the grace of understanding, but with liquor coursing through his body, and the clash of your consternation with the thudding of the booming music, Steve Harrington could hardly process the events unfolding before him, “the Scream mask guy?”

“Yes!” You forced out with frustration. 

Steve blinked. “There’s, like, fifteen people wearing Scream masks, Y/N.” Your eyes fluttered to your surroundings, hitting every corner of the Harrington residence, where Halloween truly brought out the most lethargic efforts of a costume: Scream masks. Steve watched your face fall in defeat, as his hand ran over his face in guilt. “Hey, look, just stick with us, okay? No more walking on your own. If they come back, you get me, o-or Nance, Robin, okay? Anyone.”

Steve’s eyes didn’t let up, until your head slowly nodded to his words. 

“And tell Eddie, before he fucking kills me.” Steve sighed, fanning his breath out. While you could appreciate his concern, you weren’t so keen on the babysitting nature of Steve Harrington’s efforts that he just couldn’t resist, as he guided you to the corner of the couch, and told you to stay put.

Effortlessly, Steve was able to maneuver his way back into the ropes of his rendezvous, all while a pout brandished your face, as you watched the rest of your friends unreservedly lose themselves to the night. 

Your thumb hovered over Eddie’s contact. 

Surely, the news would be broken to him, regardless, yet the dread of doing so still came with some hesitation, as you knew your boyfriend would be fuming in the lonesome of a garage, forcibly unable to focus on the work at hand, as he worried about you. And with the distance at play, it’d anger him beyond recognition, and despite not being his faults, he’d take it as so; not being there when needed, that is. 

Please don’t ger all weird and mad…!

You’d imagine that incoming pang of your message alarmed him, given how quickly those bubbles were to appear. His messages hurdling even faster. 

What the hell happened

Are you ok

weird? What weird? I don’t get weird

HELLO? 

Baby you have 5 seconds to respond

Your thumbs twiddled quickly to appease his inevitable worrisomeness. 

Someones being creepy at Steve's. 

Like, bothering me and trying to touch.

Me

And it’s really pissing me off. I had to tell them off just so they could back off. I’m sitting on Steve’s couch now.

And you could read his impending responses from a mile away. Because when it came to you, it was inescapable. 

I’ll be there

And that’s all it took for you to lurch forward in your seat, and risk the opportunity of catching a cramp in your hands, as your fingers took a tight clutch to your brightening phone screen. If it wasn’t for the music, nothing but the clacking of the digital keyboard would have infested your ears. 

No! 

No, Eddie, really, it’s okay!

I already got it handled. I told Steve, and he said he’d kick them out if they tried it again. I’m okay, really.

Don’t leave, Boomer will be angry with you. I don’t wan you to get in trouble because of me :(

Christ, you had just wanted to Monster Mash. But with hot bodies having no regard for your space, as harassment entailed you throughout night, and now the potential of a heavy admonishment waiting for Eddie from Boomer should he leave, nothing but a disappointed scowl danced across your face. And while you could appreciate the kindness of your boyfriend’s heart- really, you could, you could also find frustration in your boyfriend’s lack of awareness for consequences. Because, yes, it was unfathomably sweet when Eddie rushed to your side, when you simply texted him about the pains of your period. Though, what followed was an angry boss, who chastised Eddie for leaving in the middle of his job, only to punish him with a closing shift on your anniversary date.

Not fun. 

And with Cedars Evergreen Farm opening itself from the daily pumpkin patch to a nightly movie drive-in, Eddie had promised you an intimate date in the back space of his van, and you’d be damned if you lost your date night to the consequences of his actions. Eddie Munson had to stay.

The bubbles appeared. 

Stay with Nancy.

A period. Eddie Munson never punctuated. In fact, run-on sentences were his specialty. 

I mean it Y/N.

But, at the very least, you could relax—somewhat—with the knowledge that his profession and your date weren’t compromised on the night of Halloween. Your fingers typed away.

I won’t! Swears! <333333

I love you so much!!!

Ransacking through tubes of lip gloss and a tin of Altoids, your compact was pulled from the clutter of your purse, before it flipped to showcase your tipsy reflection. Aside from the minimal perspiration that smudged the edges of the patterned spots, you looked the cutest you could despite the night you endured, and some handsy delinquent with no manners wasn’t going to ruin that for you. 

Call me if something happens I’ll be there eventually stay safe and kick his ass if he does something else

Just kill him baby. 

Honestly.

I will eventually so what does it matter if you get to him first :)

As he always managed to do, even when not present, you giggled at the vulgarity of his words. With the tip of your finger, you cleaned up the imperfect smears of your makeup, before smacking your lips together with a lather of your seductive plum gloss. With a zhuzh of your hair here and there, you stood from your miserable place on the couch, choosing to ignore the chastising gasp from Steve Harrington, as you made your way to the girls. 

The audacious woman she was, Nancy Wheeler had wasted no time securing her hand around your wrist. “Hey, is everything alright?” Her voice amplified over the music. “Steve told me what happened.”

Though her stern eye was cold, you eased her worries with a flail of your hand, throwing something along the lines of “Eddie knows,” because if Eddie Munson knows, it’s taken care of.

Shoving the bothersomes of the night to the back of your mind, you graced the buzzing music with a warm welcome, as your body danced with the likes of Boygenius, and their carefree moves that came about with a burning cup of booze.

If Eddie Munson couldn’t be there to experience the thrills of Halloween—perhaps, being punished by running off kids who attempted to vandalize the garage; true karma—then, at the very least, you could retell the events with the blur of photos that claimed your photo album for the night. 

-

As the hours passed, your vision succumbed to the haze of alcohol that electrified your body. Strobe colors blended with the movement of strangers’ figures, and time seemed to slow, leaving you vulnerable to the predators that preyed upon you.

You saw him. Or maybe him. Every turn of your head, your eyes gazed upon the white mask that haunted your vision. In every corner. In every direction. But the liquor on your lips left your mouth numb and impuissant to the party your body craved, entrapping you in a defenseless state against his terror. 

You watched from outside of your body, as your limbs betrayed you to the laxness of your inhibitions. 

And through the darkness of your surroundings, you watched that taunting face creep closer and closer with every dragging blink of your eyes.

Robin Buckley twisted to the heavy hand on her shoulder.

Your pupils were blown out. “I-I need to use the bathroom.” Your tongue lapped at the dryness of your lips that cracked under your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you.” She shouted over the music, but your head insisted otherwise with drunken fervency. 

“I’m j-just” hiccup “gonna call Eddie.” You steadied yourself on wobbly ankles. “Had too much to drink, I-I’ll call him to pick,” hiccup “pick me up.” To hell with Boomer.

Robin’s warm thumbs swept under the smudged eyeliner that rimmed your eyes, with sparkles that once was packed onto your lid now dancing along the highlights of your cheek. She regulated you with a small smile. “Don’t wait alone, okay? Come back here when you’re done.”

You nodded slowly to appease your gnawing headache. 

One step at a time, your surroundings seemed to slow, as your vision tunneled to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Feeling like a mile away, your fingernails grazed the smooth surface of the floral wallpaper that clung to the Harrington abode to anchor you for the trek, as drunk bodies alike shoulder checked you with no regard. 

When you felt the clank of your heels against the linoleum, your breath released with all tension, as the door slammed behind you shut, and you relished in the warped quietness the secluded bathroom was able to proffer you.

Flicking the light switch on had your head pounding and eyes harshly binding closed. 

The toilet creaked under the weight of your slumped body, as you blinked your vision straight to find an array of messages awaiting you. 

Feeling okay baby? I’m lonely without you sweetheart these cars are boring me half to death need to see you soon or I’ll die

Finishing up soon, you doing alright baby

Heading out sweetheart

I’ll be there in a couple minutes

You sighed in relief, fumbling to click his contact, and letting the ringing line massage your head. “Hey, princess.”

The static of his grumbly voice pacified your racing heart from an alcoholic adrenaline rush. “Eds.” You exhaled in peace. 

“Y/N.” You could make out the smile that lingered on his lips, as his tongue spoke your name. “Get my message? I’m heading over as soon as I get changed- and don’t get on me just yet, I haven’t started driving, so I’m not putting myself in danger.” He laughed. You always were quite serious with that ‘One Text or Call Could Wreck it All’ motto- well, at least, with Eddie Munson you were. He didn’t have an extensive relationship with the Hawkins PD for no reason.  

“No!” You whined into the call, lips pouting to their fullest extent. 

“No?”

Composing yourself, you settled into a deep breath. “Don’t change. J-Just come get me.” Your voice managed to mumble a response. 

“What’s the matter? Something happen? Are you okay?” His voice swore into your ear, the vigilance of it so prudent with protectiveness. 

Your hot palm smashed against your cheek in exhaustion. “Just drank too much. Got caught up, and now I’m too- I don’t wanna be here without you. Wanna go home.” Your slurred words bleated. The staticness of his sigh rang out in a heavy breath, and you knew an upbraid was to be waiting for you the next morning, after he kissed you okay with Tylenol and a hearty breakfast. Eddie Munson always did have a knack for setting you up for the keelhaul that disguised itself in affection. Really, the only time the adult man showed responsibility. “No mean words.” You fussed. “Not now, at least.”

“No mean words, baby.” Eddie soothed. “Okay, just give me a few minutes, alright? I’m leavin’ as we speak. Harrington’s house is not too far, should be around Mirkwood in five.” You nodded, despite the on call conversation. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, Eds, five minutes.” You ignored the dull ache of your toes, as you conquered standing on straight feet. “Thank you, baby.”

A chuckle huffed through his nose. “No need, sweetheart, just no more drinking, okay? No goodbye shot with Robin or Stone Cold.”

You absentmindedly giggled at the image of Steve Harrington. “Okay.” You sighed. “No shots with Stone Cold.”

“Atta girl.” He smiled. “Alright, just hang tight for me, shouldn’t be long.”

“I love you.” Your breath dragged on.

“I love you way more, so you lose.” Eddie could vividly picture the pout that etched itself onto your mouth. 

And it was his laughter that you last heard, as your jutted lips grumbled a “meanie,” before hanging up, because in your drunken stupor, that competition felt like a real loss. 

Turning to the mirror, you flinched at the state of your look. Luckily, Steve Harrington had no plans of having a lights-on party. Rummaging through his family’s unmentionables, you pummeled a fistful of cotton swabs onto the counter, drenching each end with the sink’s faucet of water. 

A bit of coldness brought some release to your hot face, as you followed the edges of the painted black spots that smudged with the perspiration of your skin. But in a blink of a second, the bathroom door rattled with a single bang. 

Your face twisted in confusion, your body stopping as you waited.

But silence was all that met you, and you blinked your eyes close to think straight. 

Steve Harrington’s house was packed with fifty plus strangers and acquaintances, all who whooped and hollered with an all you can drink display. It wasn’t irrational for a drunken body to collide against a door or wall in an attempt to seek a bedroom.

You sighed, continuing your task of trying to look slightly presentable. But Steve Harrington’s bathroom door didn’t hold up to another aggressive knock that left its hinges vibrating with the harsh hit. 

You swallowed thickly, aiming to ignore the hairs that stood across your body.

“S-Someone’s in here.” But a suffocating atmosphere of pure quietude was all that came in response.

Goosebumps terrorized your skin, as your chest heaved with the heavy seconds it took to wait for something- anything to occur. You quickly discarded the stained cotton swabs, before slowly approaching the door. 

Your trembling hand gently caressed the brass of the golden door knob, and with a swift swing…

Nobody.

To the right of the hall, the blackness led to the shed of light, where all party goers gathered in the setting of the living room. Your shoulders slumped with relief. 

And to the left-

Your heart plummeted. Heavy breathing echoed from his mask, as his built towered over your stature. The grotesque intimidation shot your eyes sober, as your stomach heaved with the terrifying sensation that consumed you. 

Pathetic whimpers poured from your mouth, as you took caution steps back, only for him to follow with each movement. 

Screw waiting. 

The epinephrine from his bone-chilling presence detoxed your body dispassionately, as your legs found the momentum to run away into the crowd. 

Yet, as you looked back, he all but laid back and watched, as he stood in place, taunting you with no effort. Almost getting off on how easily you scared.

But you weren’t going to be a part of his game anymore. Halloween was over as of 12:14 A.M. You were going home.

Shoving past interlopers, you scoured your way to the less densely populated area of the back patio. Stragglers were all that occupied the darkened backyard, lingering on outdoor loungers, surely tainting Mrs. Harrington’s cushions with cigarette smoke and beer stains alike. 

“Hey! Where’s your boy toy tonight? Been wanting to buy!” You barely acknowledged the slurred voice of a prospective customer, as your attention became engrossed with watching the dancing bodies through the glass door. 

For a mask. 

You barely spared him. “Not here.”

But not a flash of white in sight. 

The grumble of his buddies reverberated, as maybe for once, you’d be left alone for the night. 

“Well, then, can I get something from you?” The crudeness of his smirk was palpable without you needing to turn around. The whistling of his friends only fueled the anger more. “How ‘bout just a handy for double of what your boyfriend offers for a half ounce?”

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, screw waiting. “Fuck off.” 

Taking the graveled path by the gardens to reach the sidewalk, you shook off the residing anger of perverted boys and creepy stalkers, and sucked in the chilled air that the night brought forth.  

“Ugh, stupid people, stupid party,” and as the universe would have it, your ankle bent against the icing on the cake—a pebble, “ah, and these stupid fucking shoes!” You exasperated with a juvenile stomp to your foot. 

Luckily, the Harrington manor had the luxury of wooded solitude, where bystanders lacked, giving you the freedom of unleashing your annoyances with grumbles that would have had late night joggers crossing the street to avoid your strangeness. 

“This party sucks.” Your mouth groused, fingers typing fervently. “Couldn’t stand to wait, I had to leave.” The owl hooted, and crickets chirped. Nothing but the point of your heel scraping against the concrete sidewalk to accompany the midnight songs. “How far are you? I’m walking, you’ll probably see me.”

This party sucks! 😠

Couldn’t stand to wait, I HAD to leave!

How far are you?

I’m walking, you’ll probably see me.

In the year and some months change spent as Eddie Munson’s special lady friend—as he loved to say—you’d never once had to grapple with the nonchalant facade boys your age seemed infected with. No, your Eddie was never one to shy away from fast texting, hell, even double- no triple- no quadruple texting. He liked you, very much so, of course, he was going to show it. Even if it came in his uniquely Eddie ways. How the hell was waiting four hours to respond under the guise of being “busy” supposed to turn you on?! Eddie Munson had one goal, and it was to make you his girlfriend. To hell with slow texters! 

And yet… the bubbles never appeared. 

But with how clouded your mind had become with the turn of events the night took, you carped to yourself, clicking your phone off with an agitated slam of your finger, and continued your trek with hunched shoulders and a down spirit. 

Crushing leaves and kicking rocks was all you could succumb to in the face of boredom, as the hope of hearing that god awful exhaust with its metal music to pair driving down the street only grew stronger with every ache of your toes. 

“Of course, of course! All this would happen to me.” Contrary, conversing with yourself seemed to be the only semblance of sanity for you at the moment. “Should’ve just gone trick-or-treating. Should’ve just staked out with my dad.” Ah, yes, who was still, in fact, located behind your mother’s shrubbery, cocking his head at every giggle a passing teenager made. “Ugh, stupid boys!” The bane of your existence. You stomped with anger, “Hate everything,” you huffed. “Hate these shoes,” oh, how you would apologize to them when the time was right, “hate these clothes, hate my life-”

You slowed your steps. Confused.

The ribbit of a frog leaping from lily pad to lily pad was all too familiar with the great puddles that dampened the forest environment. The pine trees, too, did their usual of entangling their branches in hugs with one another, as the midnight draft brought them closer. 

Normal. Everything was sounded normal… except… the whistling. 

No, not the rustle of wind, or the buzz of cicadas, but the sinister taunt of his hunt.

Your head whipped behind you, where your eyes rounded at his silhouette that drowned under the single flickering street lamp. 

Whistling. Preying. 

Your legs started without a moment’s notice. Though, your platforms only allowed for such limited speed, as you hastily dialed Eddie’s contact. Every impending ring sank your heart deeper and deeper, as the pit of your stomach felt as though it was going to collapse in on itself. His whistling only a few feet away. “Hey, it’s Eddie-”

“Eddie?!”

“Or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie. I’m busy ignoring your calls, so leave a message or finally take a hint.” 

“Ugh!” Frustration hung up the phone, as you no longer found the charm in his childish voicemail greeting. “God, just pick up.” Your steps quickened to a slow jog. “Pick up, pick up.”

The ringing had simply become torment to you now. “Hey, it’s Eddie… Or is i-”

You whined in exasperated disbelief. 

“Fuck.” The whispers of your dread passed through your lips, as a stolen glance back only confirmed the proximity of which he managed with ease. Two jogs forward was a simple step for him.

Your chest heaved under the mounting pressure and the fear that tore your stomach to shreds. Your legs felt numb against the terror, and suddenly, your eyes were clamping shut with wishful thinking that all of this was just an unbearable nightmare, because through your quickening breaths, the heavy steps of his boots sounded closer… and closer…

-

Nothing but a flood of trees swallowed your surroundings, as his taut grasp of your body forced you into the dark abyss of a desolate forest.

Your throat ached at the screams that ultimately surrendered to a deadened buzz against his hand, as nothing but the crunch of leaves that snapped under his weight was all that could be heard in a miles radius. 

With an elbow to his ribs and a kick to his shin, you gave it all your might to escape from his clutches, but your efforts never came to fruition, as the skin of your body became pinned to the scraping bark of a tree. 

His heavy breathing rang against his mask, as his face taunted yours, watching the tears stream down your cheeks, as snot congested your wails. “Aw, don’t cry, my little… heifer.”

Slowly, your nails relented from his arm, and your eyes turned to bore into the black ones that adorned his mask. “Eds…?” His loosening fingers around your mouth allowed your whisper to speak. In a moment of clarity, his smell became all too dear of cigarettes and cedar spice. Your Eddie. “W-Wha… Eddie, wait, what’s g-”

Though, as your body began to fall slack under the ease of his familiarity, his sinister laugh only mocked your moment of vulnerability, as he exploited your weakness to have his heavy body pressed against your backside.  

“Oh, what a sweet body to slaughter.” The depth of his voice had your heart now beating with something more than fright. “You wanna make it to the sequel, baby?”

Because suddenly, the night of September 4th came to memory. 

Nana Munson’s—may her soul rest in misery (an avid believer of corporal punishment against a rowdy seven-year-old Eddie Munson)—couch had fallen to the impressions of both yours and Eddie’s body, as the Saturday evening brought laziness against your energy. Secured between his legs with your back falling lax against his chest, your eyes lulled to the scratches Eddie provided to your underboob against the imprints of your now discarded bra.

But the cries of Tatum Riley, as she capitulated to her death by garage door, had blinked your eyes awake. “Think it was Stu?” Your face scrunched under the sudden loudness of his voice. Much to his credit, though, Eddie hadn’t been aware of your drowsiness. 

“Huh?”

“Y’think Stu killed Tatum?” He reiterated. 

Your brows furrowed. “No way, that was his girlfriend.”

His chuckle reverberated from his chest. “Clearly, that didn’t mean shit.” Spoken truthfully, as her lifeless body dangled above. “But surely he had to be the one takin’ the reins on that one, he set her up.”

“Set it up, sure. But killing her? Nuh-uh.” Eddie laughed at your definitive state. “He had the whole party to host, someone would’ve noticed him missing. Plus, no one was expecting Billy to even be there, giving him the most perfect opportunity to do it.” You disseminated factually.

“Okay, okay, so wait.” Eddie cleared his throat. “You’re saying Billy snuck inside the house, then back outside, and just went all the way around like that, hiding the costume n’ all, to kill her? Someone totally would’ve seen him.”

With a debate at hand, you attempted to sit up, but his greedy hands held you back, wanting to continue to seek solace in the body heat your boobs generated. “Okay, it’s odd-”

“Really odd.”

“But, Billy’s calculated, y’know.” You retaliated. “If either of them are going to pull it off, it’s going to be Billy. You know how, like, clumsy Stu is. He couldn’t have done it.”

Eddie dramatically brushed you off with a pestering psh. “You’re just sayin’ all that, ‘cause you like Matthew Lillard.”

“Please, everyone knows Billy killed Tatum.” You laughed. “This has nothing to do with Matthew Lillard being hot- ow!”

His nimble fingers squeezed at your pebbling nipples, as he menacingly chuckled in your ear. “Swear, I’ll put on that fucking mask and have my way with you if I hear you call another dude hot.” But oh, how that thought, itself, was already having its way with you. Wriggling in his embrace, your actions did not go unnoticed by your boyfriend, as he eyed the rub of your thighs. “Oh, you like that!” He smirked.

“What?” You squeaked, fighting through the endeavor of avoiding the eyes that tried so hard to look into yours. “No, I don’t. Y-You freak.” But the heat of your face was palpable, and Eddie reveled in the bashful embarrassment that he could elicit within you.

“Oh, you so do, baby.” He sneered in your face, the silver of his rings stimulating goosebumps on the canvas of your skin, as his hands cupped your fullness. “Hm, want me to fuck you with that mask?”

You whined at his words. “Eddie.” 

“That’s honestly hot as fuck, y’know?” His voice dripped with arousal, as his hands roamed your belly. “Letting me fuck you to spare you, fuck, throw in that knife you like. Begging for you life, shit.”

And with that hand of his sneaking between your legs, who were you to remember a one-off conversation from over a month ago?

The trunk of the tree bit at your cheek, as he forcefully affixed your body to the rough surface. Cold metal clashed against your thigh, and suddenly the scrape of a blade was shooting chills through your body; his pocket knife. “Ugh,” his groans intensified, as his hand got lost under the ruffle of your skirt, letting your clothed cunt be teased by the sharp edge, “the things I could do to you. And not a single soul would hear. Not your screams. Not your cries. Just completely at my mercy.”

You gasped at the unforeseen slice that ripped your panties in two, forcing the ruined lace to be soiled in the ground below you; the night’s draft now blowing against the flooding wetness of your exposed folds. “Please.” His laughs were all that met your pleas. “D-Don’t hurt me.”

Oh, what a fantasy come true. 

Your teeth pierced into your swollen lip, as the flat edge of Eddie’s knife abruptly pressed into your clit, its coldness sending shockwaves to the hot bundle of nerves that had your hips driving back onto his pulsating bulge. 

“Don’t hurt you?” He mocked. “Oh, but how fun would it be if I did. Huh, my little calf?” The fear that stirred in your belly was only able to ease for a second, as his sharp blade finally left your core, but only to trace the skin of your naval. “To bruise your skin, break your morale, violate your body- ugh, this pretty, little body.” His knife severed your tiny shirt in two, expelling your breasts. Eddie’s gloved hand then bunched your skirt at the hip, letting the cool zephyr nip at your naked body. “God, look at that.” His harsh hand groped your ass, pulling your cheeks from one another to see the glistening of your pussy under the moonlight. “And I can just do anything with it, huh?”

“I’ll do a-anything, I-I- just please, I’ll let you do anything, just let me go-”

“Oh, no, baby, look at you.” Eddie’s stature followed down your squirming figure. “You’re never leaving me.” Before you could get a word in, his strength brought you to your knees, your skin digging into the dirt and discarded panties of the ground. In a flash, his knife pressed to your tensing neck, as his mask stared you down from his height. “You better fucking show me how much you think your life is worth.”

Your manicured hand wasted no time to undo the metal clasp of his belt, as Eddie sighed at the relief his throbbing cock felt from the confined restraints of his jeans. Precum drenched his boxers wet, and behind that mask, your boyfriend smiled at the delicate kisses you offered to his body, despite the debauched scene at hand. 

His cock sprung with an angry tip targeting your face, and your graceful fingers found themselves scratching at the unruly curls of his pubs, before wrapping around his girth to pull back to the sticky skin of his cock. 

“Mm!” You moaned, as you tongued at his head, collecting the budding seed that oozed from his hole. 

His hands didn’t hesitate to grapple onto your scalp, bringing you forth with dramatic moans, as his pocket knife rested against the plumpness of your cheek. “Ooh, fuck, yes.” His teeth clenched tightly. “Shove it down your fucking throat like your life depends on it.”

Your tongue salivated along the underside of his dick, as your lips latched onto his length, constraining you to take all you could of him. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth, coating him in your spit that allowed your slick hands to jerk him with burning friction. His hips couldn’t help but drive forward, and he selfishly ignored the chokes that restricted your throat taunt, merely giving him something tighter to fuck. 

“God, let me trash that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” His hairs tickled your nose, as a mess of spit and precum slung from his cock to your chin. Hollowing your cheeks had Eddie’s mewls echoing from his mask, as your eyes peered up lovesick at the sight of his bruteness taking all he felt was his.

He tapped your cheek disrespectfully, forcing you off his cock, only for his heavy hand to shove your head lower. “C’mon, you know what to fucking do, you fucking slut. You wanna live? You wanna go back to your boyfriend?” He laughed, playing his part menacingly. “You wanna be able to suck him off with that same fucking mouth you sucked mine with, you better make me fucking feel good, or you’ll be no use dead in the woods.” 

Your mouth locked onto his heavy set balls that shoved itself in your face, and you suckled at the velvet skin, pulling it from his body, and feeding it into your mouth with whines of satisfaction. Your wet muscle tickled his legs numb, with his knees buckling at the massage he forced out of you. 

And inch by inch, your tongue teased the expanse of his taint, until he felt it prod at his pulsating hole, and he forced your face deeper between his thighs, as nothing but his cock and balls swallowed your face. “You dirty fucking whore, ugh!”

Such an intimate spot, his musk invaded your senses with nothing but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie flooding your surroundings. His thick thighs suffocating your face; his leg hairs nipping at your cheeks; his balls smashing against your nose; his cock leaking on your forehead. There was no leaving Eddie Munson. 

He consumed you. 

“Dirty that fucking face, shit, m’gonna make that pretty fucking face filthy!” Eddie rode your face, forcing your tongue to plunge into your tight asshole, as you tried to keep up with his rough movements. “Eat my fucking ass, all your worth doing—shit, shit, fuck, I’m gonna—shove your fucking tongue in there!” 

Your nails clawed at his thighs, branding red streaks to bleed against his pale skin. 

But unexpectedly, you were rammed onto the dirt with a gasp of surprise leaving your mouth, as his barbaric strength manhandled you onto your tummy, blatantly ignoring your struggles.

His heavy weight suppressed your body to your ground, as his merciless hand came around your jaw, squeezing your face. “Smile, baby, big fucking smiles.” Eddie forced your lips to pucker. “Want nothing but smiles outta you while everything is happening. Show me how pretty you are- how happy you are to have me violate you, how much you love this.”

You felt his dense cock poke at the globes of your ass. “You gonna be a good fucktoy, and let me ruin these holes, huh? Not going to make a noise? Not going to tell anyone? Yeah?” You whimpered at the thick head to pried your sticky lips apart, catching your clit, only to glide back to your sopping entrance that clenched with need. “And I’ll let you live, I’ll let this pretty body live. Yeah? Go back to your boyfriend, but you’ll still be mine, no? When you’re leaving his, I’ll take you on the street. In the middle of night, when your clueless parents are asleep. When you just want to live in peace, but I’ll be there to wreck it, because this body’s mine. It’s all mine.” 

His cock intruded your pussy. “Ah! Yes, yes! Make me take it!” Dirt stuck beneath your nails, as you attempted to cling onto the ground. 

“Fuck!” Eddie bleated, as he fell balls deep, flushed to your back. “My fucking play thing.” He punctuated with a rough thrust. “My fucking pussy to use.” 

With seven inches pumping deep, the ridges of his cock rubbed against your sensitive g-spot, as your cunt stroked him of his precum; a ring of your mixing cream flooded at his base to splash his naval dirty. Your arm managed to snake back, pushing the endeavor to slow his hips from the rapid pace he was fucking at, but his hands shut down your futile attempts.

“Nuh-uh!” He masked pressed to your face, your arm now pinned to your ground. “You said make you take it, you’re gonna fucking take it!” Eddie’s guttural voice vibrated against your ear. 

“Y-Yes! Whatever you say! Please!” Your neck ached with the stretch Eddie was forcing to keep your head up. “Use me! Need you to use me!”

The veins of his cock were hammering with desire, as all his blood pumped to his groin to keep it hard until it got the release it was begging for. And he did all to get you there, as your walls were quivering around his length, your cries bleeding through the tight hold his hand kept to your jaw. The woodland creatures of Hawkins, Indiana were perking their ears at the wails of what they could only infer was an innocent critter being preyed upon; not too far from truth. 

Your soft walls kept him warm against the biting chill of the night, and by the way your back was arching to shove your ass deeper into his pelvis could only mean you, too, were selfishly begging to satiate that aching need.

“Mm, fuck! Look at that ass.” He peered to see the fat of your cheeks recoiling against the snap of his hips. “This fucking ass and cunt- such a dirty, little fucking cunt.” His chest peeled from you, as cold wind satisfyingly blew against the sweat that marinated between your hot bodies.

The leather of his gloves stung against your cheek, as his heavy hand came to spank your jiggling roundness, while he moaned at witnessing the length of his cock get lost in the crevice of your ass. Peeling them apart, he eyed your winking hole, and propelled his hips forward, so your neglected asshole could get a tickle of his pubic hair, as he ground himself against you. 

Your skin slapped together so violently in the waking hour of early November. Writhing beneath his body weight, your body could only hold back for so long, before you succumbed to your needs. 

“So fucking sick in the head, y’know that? Such a pretty face with such a sick head.” Eddie’s hand came to constrict your throat, thumbs digging into your pulse points. “You love this, love me abusing you, abusing this filthy fucking pussy—augh, shit, shit!” His cock twitched under the clenching of your cunt that fluttered from his degradation. “I’ll defile it until no one wants you- no one but me! But fucking me!”

He jackhammered in dick mercilessly, until your hole clamped shut around him; your nipples scraping against the dirt with every drill of his hips. “C-Can’t—ahh—take it anymore! Too much! Stop!”

“Mm! You can hate this as much as you want, but your slutty body fucking loves it.” His fingers found themselves on your thudding clit, harshly circling it with the soft material of his gloves. “Cum for me, baby, cum on fucking cock!”

The muscles in your stomach were cramping, as the pressure was mounting against your core. Eddie’s muffled moans were proliferating by the seconds, and his wet balls were seizing against your pussy, nearing the end of self-control. 

“I-I won't tell anybody, just let me cum! Please, please, please! No one, just between you and me!” Your pathetic blabbings had him laughing through the pain of his straining, aching cock.

Without a care for the tiny bugs that swarmed the dirt beneath you, your head dropped with the wails of your orgasm, as your body trembled with the overpowering sensations that wrecked your body lifeless. Your vision fell black, and all that could be heard was Eddie Munson’s fuzzy voice screaming with the release of ropes of cum that flooded your pussy full. 

Unable to kiss you with the barrier of a mask, Eddie did all but purr and meow, as he displayed his affection with clumsy headbutts, as your bodies fell slack in the middle of the woods. 

Slowly, as your vision came to be, and the blur was gone, your peripheral catched Eddie’s head menacingly turn, as he examined your lax state. And that laugh- that sinister laugh pooled your stomach with fear. “I’ll never be done breaking you.” 

Before you could protest, Eddie manipulated your lenient limbs, and knocked you onto your back with your heavy legs falling entrapped in his strong grip. Hoisted in the air, your oozing pussy opened up to him with your thighs pinned to your dirty chest. But you knew your body, sensitivity was buzzing deep within, and you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore.

Your weak hands ventured to slap his head away, but his strength overpowered you, and for the first time tonight, the mask came off. You bawled at the attachment of his full lips eating at your clit. “I’d love to send you back to your boyfriend with my babies stuffing you,” the vibrations rippled inside you, “but he’d know too much.”

Back and forth, his tongue trekked from flicking your bud, splitting you in half, and prodding at your tight asshole, where sticky arousal seeped into. “Augh! S-Sensitive, Eds!”

Eddie merely chuckled into your cunt, breaching it with the point of his tongue to lap all that flooding inside you. The tang of your pussy never tasted so good with his piquant cum, as his mouth ravished your opening, pulling and sucking your folds with the fervent shake of his head. Gluttony was committed with how unforgiving he was with gorging your wetness into his mouth, proceeding back to bully your bundle of nerves, until your body was jerking with trying to flee his inescapable hold.

“Stop! Eddie, I’m gonna- f-fuck, really, Eds, I can’t!” You tried to desperately plead, but if there was anything Eddie Munson loved more than you, it was actually just you completely at his mercy.

Consuming the cum from your pussy, your legs locked and trembled around his head, and instantly, warm liquid was inundating his mouth. Your cries from the aching release of your squirt bled sinfully with his moans from your taste, creating the most depraved music of your intimacy, as your eyes lost the will to focus on anything else, but the glowing moon against the night’s blackness. 

But in the haze of your inebriated mind, your boyfriend had crawled his body over yours, where mouths quickly connected. Only, the opening of his lips invited your squirt to soak onto your tongue. And it stayed there, swapping between your jaws, as both of you made fleeting attempts to consume each other with loving desire, until everything was swallowed from the intensity.

And all that was left was Eddie Munson smiling down at your blissed out face, his chin scintillating under the moon.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He caressed your face. “Would’ve just abducted you, but probing you felt more fun.” He teased at the irreparable damage done on your innocent cow costume.

You breathlessly laughed, refuting his words with an incredulous shake of your head. “Whatever happened to just asking me to take you to my leader?”

Eddie giggled, kissing you okay with delicate pecks that greatly contrasted from the lascivious events he put you through. He had sat up, degloving his hands—now drenched in perspiration from the confining heat—to brush away the specks of dirt that clung to your breasts. “Here, lift up for a second.” His now gentle hands helped guide the torn piece of clothing from your upper body, where the soft fabric now became a clean-up cloth for both your bodies. “I’ll get you new clothes,” Eddie groaned, seeking to squeeze his head from the hoodie that he took off, now proffering to you, “promise, sweets.”

“Help me up, don’t want a worm near my vagina.” He laughed at your whines, hands coming to entangle with yours, as a firm arm around your waist helped leverage you on wobbly legs. 

“Yeah, sorry for the lack of set up.” Eddie swiped the dirt off your bare butt. “Though, don’t think a nicely laid blanket and candles would have really fit the whole horny-violent-serial-killer vibe, y’know?”

“Well, duh. You can’t light candles in the woods, that’s dangerous.” Christ, you really were something to appreciate. “But, no, seriously, that was-” you eyed him excitedly with precious giggles, “that was really good. Like, better than anything I could have fantasized Stu Macher doing.” And felt the consequences of that joke with a sharp pinch to your ass. “Ah! Okay, okay!”

Eddie guffawed in your face, planting a searing kiss onto your hairline. “You’re insufferable, y’know that?” He hugged you tightly. “But you liked it? Not too much- hell, too little, you freak?”

“Nuh-huh, perfect!” You sweetly piqued, until you diverted with a swat to his chest. “But, Christ, Eddie, you really scared me! And lied to me! I thought some lunatic was following me!”

“Oh, come on, when have I ever let you go to some rager alone? A Halloween one, at that?” 

You pouted. “You made me hate Boomer just a little.” A guttural howl bubbled from him, as he went to pick up the discarded mask and pocket knife that was strewn about, your shirt and panties followed, gathered in his other hand. “And I have to throw these away.”

“Throw away?” His brow cocked, evidently in disbelief, as he examined your underwear. “Just because they’re sliced doesn’t mean they can’t be shown any love. Nothing I can’t add to the collection.” He smirked with a wink. 

“Damn it, Eddie, give me back my seamless ones, they’re the only ones I can wear with leggings without getting lines.” You remembered.

And his eyes couldn’t help but teasingly roll back. “Alright, alright, careful with the branches, baby.” Side by side, Eddie guided you through the wooded area, until the quiet sidewalk he once kidnapped you from came in sight under the yellow streetlights.

Though, while you two had your fun of kink exploration, unfortunately, your dear friends were nearly killing themselves over trying to find you three blocks away, plotting operation plans as to what may have occurred. Lying where it was once dropped, you grimaced at the piling text that bombarded you, when you picked your discarded phone.

Hey, I’m okay! Swear it, Eddie picked me up! So sorry! Was too drunk to stay and tell you! 😖

Hopefully, the off brand Lucy Dacus would be lenient enough to spare you for the night. You could face their wrath tomorrow.

“Oof, gotta spend the night with me, before Wheeler kills you.” Eddie’s nosy trait had him reading your messages over your shoulder. 

“It’s your fault! Ugh, you’re actually going to get me murdered!” You groaned, while all he could do was arrogantly smile at his work, until you abruptly stopped with a gasp. “You decided to sexually harass me all night instead of doing the Monster Mash with me?!” Christ, that pointed finger was so accusatory. 

Eddie’s hand flew up in defense. “Sweetheart, I swear I’ll give you all the Monster Mashing until Thanksgiving.”

“Y’know, I think this was all just your way of getting out of dressing up.” Your eyes squinted with the interrogation.

Oh, how you wanted to eat that sly grin away. “And fucking you? Yeah.”

“Ugh, you perv!” Eddie caught your hand before it could swat him, giving him the leverage to torpedo a swarm of open-mouth kisses to your face. “Okay, okay! Truce!” He combed your hair straight, chuckling at your disheveled state. “So, that was really you stalking me?”

“Yup.”

“At the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“In the kitchen?”

“Totally me, baby.”

“Outside my window?”

“Yea- wait, what?” Eddie flinched back in confusion. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Earlier today, when you came by. Y’know, watching me from my window?”

Eddie’s steps immediately came to a halt, as his face blended into concern. “Sweetheart, I never stood outside your window.” He declared. “Yeah, I came by, but seriously, your dad had just let me in. Who the fuck was at your window?”

You rejected the conversation, choosing to continue to walk. “Stop, Eddie, don’t scare me. You already have enough.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. I never stood outside your window.” Eddie Munson’s eyes were never one to genuinely lie. 

“M-Maybe it really was just some kid, then.” You rationalized. 

“Alright, look, let’s just really call it a night, and get home.” A protective arm secured you to his body. 

Because perhaps in the night, your drunken mind did notice two figures watching you that were simply chalked up to one. Maybe, the second one was the one watching from the corner, then from behind a tree. Maybe, it was the one that quietly stalked twenty feet behind with a knife that shined too brightly under the moonlight to ever be plastic.

Don’t you know couples who have sex on Halloween night are the first to die?

[4doll]

𝐒𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 // 𝐆.𝐅 !!

(𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥(𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡!𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟎

You moaned into the kiss as soon as you hit the bed. “Missed me huh?” He asked with a laugh, you continued kissing him as you undressed. You helped him with his belt while you sat on the edge of the bed, his hard cock sprung free of his boxers.

Your eyes widened, “On your knees, I’ll reward you if you make me come” he demanded. You wondered what he was gonna reward you with as you got on your knees. You started with small kitten licks, transitioning to long licks. You looked up at him while you swirled your tongue around his cock.

He groaned, he put his hand on your head pulling your hair pulling you away from his cock. He let go, “Tongue out” he commanded. You stuck your tongue out, he put his tip on your tongue. “It ain’t gonna suck itself” He said with a small chuckle as he tilted his head a bit looking down at you.

You were used to his size so you deep throated his entire cock. You started bobbing your head up and down, using your saliva to help. He threw his head back in pleasure. You started slobbering on his cock, your tongue swirling around his cock and tip.

He put both hands on your head, he looked down to watch. He started to fuck your throat, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, “I thought you were used to my size? Still can’t take my cock?” tears started to form.

“You’re so pretty when you cry” He cooed while taking his cock out so you could breathe. He let you take a minute to be prepared, “Ready?” he asked, you nodded.

His hands on your hair as he slowly found his pace in your mouth, making sure you could breathe and be comfortable. “Please go harder” You asked looking up at him, he let out a deep exhale.

“As you wish.” He said before he started to fuck your throat like before. “God I’ll never get tired of that pretty little mouth of yours.” He groaned as he hit the back of your throat as you started to slobber and swirl your tongue around his cock and tip the best you could with how hard and fast he was going.

The mascara you were wearing before now ruined from how much you were crying. He pulled out from your mouth, holding his cock on your face as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “You look so pretty ruined like that.” He trailed off with a groan as you started to lick his balls while your hands worked his cock.

“God..” He whispered as he watched intently the best he could from all the pleasure he was feeling. You tried your best to fit both his balls in your mouth, “Oh fuck—“ he moaned as he gripped your hair. You felt his cock twitch, meaning he was close.

You decided to edge him, you couldn’t wait for his punishment for that. You stopped all movements, smirking slightly as he whined gripping your hair more. “Why did you do that?” He asked a little whimper at the end of his question.

You started to stroke his dick slowly and stop when you felt it twitch. “Go faster” He whispers, “Say please” you teased. You could only hear a mumble. “Speak up or I leave.” You spoke looking up at him. You could tell he was flustered. “What? Before you were commanding me to get on my knees now you’re shy when I ask you to say please?” You asked with a small smile.

“Go faster..” He hesitated, “Please” he groaned in embarrassment. “Wasn’t so hard was it?” You said with a smile, you started stroking and playing with his balls again. After a few times of edging him and him whining you decided to finally let him come.

You started to do long licks around his cock and some kitten licks on his tip. “Take me down your throat please” He begged, he was breathing heavily from all the edging. “Finally learned huh?” You asked with a small chuckle. “Yes please deep throat me.” He whimpered.

“Beg more and maybe I will.” You teased with a smirk. “Please please deep throat me. I wanna cum so badly please. Please please” He started to repeat please, barely becoming audible as he went on. His body jerked and his eyes went wide as he suddenly felt your warm mouth around his cock.

You started to use your built up saliva from edging to slobber around his cock. Giving his balls the same treatment, he moaned as he pushed your head to go deeper. He desperately whined as he felt his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Can I cum?” He slurred as he asked, his head clouded from the pleasure.

You hummed as you slammed your head back down, the vibration from your humming only adding to the pleasure. “Fuck I’m close—“ He groaned looking down at you “Let me cum on your face please” he asked wanting to only ruin your face more. You hummed again.

You felt him twitch, smiling slightly as you pulled away. Letting him do all the work, he stroked his cock desperately wanting to cum. “Oh fuck” He whispered before he started to cum. Spurts of his cum started to land on your face, some landing on your body. He moaned as he threw his head back.

The last spurt of his cum landed on your thighs. He started to calm down from his high. You licked your lips, swallowing his cum. “Fuck you look amazing. This pretty ruined face already gonna get me hard” He spoke as he kneeled down a bit to smear some of his cum around your face. “Taste” He said as he put his cum covered fingers in front of you.

You started to suck his fingers, cleaning up every single spot that had his cum. Once you were done he lifted his mask up only to his mouth, he leaned down and started to make out with you. “You must be dripping for me hm?” He asked with a smirk.

“Bed” He commanded. “You did so well for me so I’m gonna reward you” He said as you laid on the bed. “Spread your legs for me” He said as you spread your legs open, your underwear had a wet spot. He groaned as soon as he saw. His hands now on your hips gliding down to your underwear.

“Needed me this much?” He spoke as he took off your underwear, throwing it somewhere in your room. He cursed under his breath as he saw how wet you were for him. He took off his mask, and immediately started to play with your clit. Using his other hand to finger you.

You moaned as you pushed your legs together before he stopped you. Adding another finger while he slowly worked your clit. “Tell me when to go faster baby” He murmured while he glanced up at you to watch your face twist into pleasure while he fingered you. He curled his two fingers to find your sweet spot, watching your face intensely just wanting to pleasure you.

Your legs pushed together while you grabbed his hair while you moaned. “Suck my clit please” You whined wanting more. He smiled while he removed his finger from your clit. Spitting on your clit while he started suck on it. Adding a third finger while licked and sucked your clit. Moaning loudly as you pulled on his hair more.

“Shit” You mumbled, “Go faster with your fingers” you moaned while you felt your eyes roll in the back of your head. His fingers were hitting your sweet spot faster and faster, you were close. “I’m close” You whimpered as he went faster than before while he sucked harder and played with your clit with his tongue faster.

“I’m cumming!” You yelled as you squeezed your legs together, practically suffocating him while you moaned loudly pulling his hair trying to find anything to hold onto. Your body jerking up a little while you held on to his hair for dear life. Letting out moms and whines. Your legs shaking while you laid back down, letting go of his hair and letting your legs relax letting him breathe.

Your cum was all over his fingers, he let out a breath of relief you finally settled down from the intense orgasm. He separated his cum covered fingers, “Taste yourself” he spoke as he put his fingers in front of your face. You sucked his fingers dry of your cum, pulling him into a kiss when you were done.

“You taste so good” He mumbled into the kiss, you pulled him closer. “Fuck me” You said as you pulled away from the kiss panting. He smirked as he put the mask back on. “Anything for you.” He murmured as he aligned his cock to your entrance. He glanced back up at you, “Ready?” he asked you nodded.

He decided to take it slow, trying to find his pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, he already knew what that meant. He moved your legs and put you in the mating press. He gave you a second to get adjusted before he started to pound into you. Almost breaking the bed with his powerful thrusts.

All he could hear from you was moans, whines, whimpering and incoherent mumbling. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you? Treat you like a common whore?” He asked with a smile, head tilting a bit. You only mumbled something in response. “Use your words” He groaned as you clenched around him.

You didn’t respond, mind full of pleasure. “My cock made you dumb huh?” He asked switching the position. He slammed into you while you started to ride him. He put his hands on your hips helping you fuck yourself on him. “Use” “Your” “Words” every word he slammed into you hitting your sweet spot every-time.

“Say it!” He yelled as he stopped moving, you whined. “I-“ You hesitated, “I like it when you treat me like a whore” You mumbled. Too embarrassed to say louder. “Wasn’t so hard” He murmured as he started to pound into you again. “My slut just loves when I fuck you for hours to the point you can barely walk for weeks huh?” He asked as he switched the position again.

He used your arms to help pound into you. He leaned into your ear, “You’re just a greedy cheap whore.” you moaned loudly as he hit your sweet spot again. He groaned slightly feeling you tighten around him. “Fuck— You love being called a cheap whore? Love it so much you’re close to cumming?” He asked as his cock twitched from how tight you were.

“Yes! God I love it— I’m close” You shouted as you rolled your eyes and bit your lip almost drawing blood. He put his arm around your throat, putting his head on your shoulder. Grunting as his thrusts got sloppy yet still powerful. “Gonna pump you full of my cum— Have you give birth to our kids” He whispers as he moaned starting to cum.

You started to cum not shortly after him. “Pump me full of your kids” You moaned. He started to pump you full of his cum, some leaking out your pussy. He pulled out carefully, a mix of his and your cum covered his cock. He laid beside you, you both riding out your highs and calming down.

a/n: hopefully you enjoyed! and hopefully this was good. finished this at 6am there might be grammatical / spelling errors or things that don’t make sense. I’m very sorry I didn’t post this on Christmas! Hopefully posting this on new years makes up for it!

taglist: @tenochhuertassugarbby @starboashee @gr4veyardg1rl

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

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