#ghostface masterlist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alien-magnolia · 2 years ago

Text

Tainted Love

Fic description: This is a dark fic. 18+ MINORS DNI. Dom!-coded Billy Loomis + hyperfeminine, sub-coded afab reader: they are married, committing crimes together <3 and having a wonderful domestic life <3 besides all the blood and murder. Smut/horror genre: kinks include service!, blood!, knifeplay!, ropes!, choking!, spanking!, free-use!, SERVICE, d/s mental dynamics, majorrrr daddy!kink, exhibitionism

If you like this post, pls engage, comment, reblog! It means so much to me, Ty <3 WC 2.7k

October 10, 1996.

The dark red, yellow, with tinges of brown leaves tumbled down the secluded suburban street. A tan cottage stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, yard neatly trimmed, wind chimes ringing on the porch where they hung. A dim light inside. A black van pulls into the driveway, scaring away a few neighboring birds. The door shuts — a young man enters the house.

——

You were just about finished with tonight’s dinner when your partner came back from college. You loved Billy dearly, and so you did almost everything for him. It was your dynamic — and he loved it as well. You served him, your Billy, your daddy.

How exactly did you get involved with a serial killer? Involved far enough to be an equal partner in his crimes? Involved enough to be so cautious and excellent at keeping first-degree murder a secret? Involved enough to live with him?

—-

It began last fall. A chilly November morning, fog rolling in on the campus. You walked in your pretty pink outfit, donning lace and frills, kitten heels, and butterfly hair clips. You were only nineteen. Young. Innocent. You were looking for your ‘Introduction to Early Modern Literature’ class, yet happened to wander over on the other, more secluded side of campus. You stumble over a rock on the sidewalk. You fall, beautiful rosy cheek now stained with a gash of bright, red blood.

Your hands, your knees, cut up from the bumpy pavement. You start crying. This was just too embarrassing!! With your social anxiety and shyness, you really hoped nobody had seen this. You did not like to be perceived by people — that is just how you were. You look around — not a soul to be seen.

Except for a man — lean, sitting on a brick bench, cigarette in hand. You couldn’t make out how he looked, yet fear overtook you as he started making his way over. You start to scramble up, hoping to run away from him, yet your bruises were just too intense for you to do so.

His deep voice asks you, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay? You nod. “Yeah jus’ a few scratches. Can’t see too well in the fog,” you sheepishly explain. “Hey, no worries. Here, I’ll help you up, yeah?” You oblige, taking his big calloused hands in yours as he helps you stand. You finally get a good look at him. God — he was handsome. More than handsome. Extremely, extremely, attractive. You got wet just by looking at his deep brown eyes and crooked smile looking down at you.

“Hey. Don’t be too shy, hun. Come. Want me to help you fix those bruises? There’s a bathroom right around the corner, he suggests. You nod silently, agreeing, following him to a door on the left.

He begins wiping your bruises with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses. You see more of him now. He wears all black. Smells like cigarettes and a dusty old basement. “So what brings you to this part of campus?,” he asks, brown eyes focused on your bruises.

“Just got lost. Needed to find one class but couldn’t. Maybe I’ll skip today anyway…,” you trail off. “Aw. Today’s your first day huh?,” he coos at you, with a smile you just couldn’t figure out. “Um. Yes. I don’t really know the campus, so…,” you quietly answer him, afraid to look into his eyes. His voice, his face, it all made you thirst for him even more.

“I could tell. Hey. Maybe you should skip. Been looking for someone to hang out with,” he suggests, finishing up cleaning your bruises, putting a few bandaids on you. “I’m Billy, by the way.” You introduce yourself to him, a little smile forming on your face. You ended up skipping class that day, spending time with him in that secluded courtyard, smoking cigarettes, listening to The Smiths. You ended up fucking in the bathroom a few hours later. You knew that you were indubitably attracted — glued to him and everything that he was. Something did feel a little off about how he treated others — you did not care.

So it was.

——

~Present day ~

You hear the keys jingle in the doorway, heavy boots make their way towards the kitchen, where you were. You currently donned a short little black dress, fishnets, with nothing underneath. You were waiting for him.

“Hey, sweets. Looking good today,” he compliments you, as he takes your small hand in his, moving you closer to him, wrapping a hand around your waist. You giggle as he peppers your cheek with kisses. “Sweetie. Want’a ask you something,” he insists, quietly, yet confidently. Your big eyelashes blink as you wait for his question.

“Wanna play with me tonight?,” a sinister smile adorns his face, his brown eyes filled with a hint of malice, excitement. Your eyes match his. You loved playing with him, your sessions, where you gave over complete control of yourself, to him. You trusted him completely. He led, you followed.

You were his. His prey, his little girl, his accomplice. You were his, devoted completely, mind and body. The two of you even had matching tattoos: a forever symbol of your unique relationship.

“Yes, daddy. What first?” He chuckles lowly. “Glad you asked, princess. We’re going to the van.” You smile back at him, as he gives you a kiss, pulling you closer to him by your neck. You knew what to do, sticking your hands out, as he takes a rope from the nearby drawer.

The rope felt nice around your wrists, you liked to watch him tie it. You didn’t want your freedom when you played with him. “Daddy’s girl, all tied up, huh? Come sweets. Let’s go to the van,” he sneers at you in the best possible way, as he leads you outside. Still, he manages to grab a coat for you, alongside some knives. You suspected that both of you will be using those later.

“Before we leave our house, thought we might have a bit of fun in the van, what’dya say? I think it’ll be nice for my little girl, yeah?,” he croons at you, caressing your cheek, before gripping it harshly, brown eyes boring into yours.

You’re on your knees for him in his dingy van. His waffle knit white t-shirt feels nice on your bound hands, as you see him start to unbuckle his belt, dropping his jeans to the floor of the van. “Give daddy’s cock some love, hun,” you hear, and his strong arms work to push you down to the floor. You look up at him from your back, you see him towering over you, cock in his calloused hand, slowly rubbing it. He lowers his cock and balls onto your face, you love the feeling of his heavy ball sack on your chin. His cock was wide, not too long, yet wide, weeping, with three beautiful veins and a beauty mark <3

It was all red and ready for your wet throat. You took him eagerly, sucking so much pressure, you felt his silky smooth voice moan out in ecstasy. You keep sucking, swirling your tongue around the mushroom tip of his cockhead. He pulls a knife to the side of your cheek. You stop.

“Look what daddy’s got here hun. You don’t like this little toy, do you?,” he taunts. With that, he lowers the knife to your chest, where he makes a gentle cut on it. He liked to cut you with his knife. Another way to possess you, to mark you as HIS.

“Get up, sweets. Daddy’s gonna cum if you keep this shit up.” He chuckles, and helps you up, wiping that little cut he made with a towel. That same towel now goes in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

His hands tightly grip your hips, pushing you down onto the floor of the van again. Hips spread, gagged, hands still tied, you felt his finger swipe across your clit, down your labia, trailing over your wet, wet, pussy. Your hole was clenching around nothing!! He was going to fix that.

“Aww. Look at you , sweetie. Cheeks all rosy, ass up for me, ready to be bred,” he taunts. You only moan in response. “Does daddy’s little girl want to be bred, hmm? Like a little cow?” You moan in response, he tuts, and lifts your neck up gently. “What was that?,” voice low. Shit. You fucked up.

“Yes, daddy,” your voice is muffled through the gag. He smiles again, that dark smile of his. Sinister. Evil. Exactly what you wanted to see. Without warning, you feel him push into you. Wide, throbbing, filling that sweet spot exactly how you wanted. He went slow for just a little, relishing how good his little girl, his breeding cow, dumpster, was for him. Then he went fast. Too fast. You loved hearing the sound of his cock and balls slap against your ass, your squelching pussy <3

You feel so full of him, you saw stars as his wife cock drilled deeper and deeper into you. You felt him twitch inside, your favorite part!! “Take my cum, baby. Fuckin’ take it,” you hear him grunt, as his hands press your body down into a mating press, his stomach now on top of your back. He had you caged in, tied, gagged, absolutely abusing you on his wide cock. You were in heaven. You were his now, in this moment. The both of you came, and of course, he did not let you squeeze his cum out of you.

“Keep it in, hmm? Want our visitors to know that you’re daddy’s girl.” You nod and smile, making grabby hands at him once he unties your wrists, and takes the towel out of your mouth. He lifts you up into his lap, peppering your face with kisses, smiling up at you as you giggle.

He helps you get dressed, gently cooing at you as you show him the carpet burn you got from being on your knees for so long. He kisses it to make it better <3 and even puts on your white frilly socks for you, helping you with your little black kitten heels and your dress.

“Where to next, daddy?,” you giddily await his answer. “Now, we drive. To meet our special guests for tonight,” he replies, your smile now matching his level of sinister. The both of you were about to go have some fun, with some unconventional guests as well.

——-/

It was now almost midnight. After your play session in the van, you couldn’t wait to play in front of your guests!! The both of you listen to heavy metal as Billy speeds down an abandoned road, the rotting leaves blowing towards the sides from the van passing by on the road. He pulls his van up a few meters close to the woods, and parks.

“Coat, baby.” You nod, and he puts your black puffer on. He leads you to the backseat, where a black trunk with a lock is placed. He opens it. His mask. Ghostface. He puts it on his hip, putting on black clothes over his nice ones. He gives you gloves, and a knife. One for himself as well. Binoculars.

“Come, hun. This way.” You follow him up into a tree, where the both of you take turns with your binoculars. He takes out his block of a phone. How you loved the 90’s. He dials the number, telling you to watch their reaction in the windows. “Hi. What’s your favorite scary movie,” Billy's voice drawls out to his unsuspecting victims in the mansion that you were currently hiding outside of.

Billy continued to harass them on the phone, beckoning you down the tree quietly, and closer and closer to the person’s backyard. Billy stays on the phone, pointing at you to stay put, and opens the window on the first floor. You wait outside, as he slips on in.

You knew what to do. You’d wait for his signal, then follow him in. Then, came your favorite part: where Billy shows you off to his victims <3

You see his hand signal through the window. You step on inside, and see the couple tied to each other, this time with metal chains. Billy is wearing his mask. “Just in time for the show, sweetheart. Kneel.”

You do as said, loving the absolutely sadistic smile on his face right now. He puts on your leash ( only for when in front of un-consenting others) and has to crawl to sit at his knees. “You see here, my two pretties, you two are going to watch me fuck my little princess here. After that, I’ll decide if you get to live,” he chuckles in absolute glee.

“By the way, if you two decide to make a sound, or go at my little girl here, I’ll stab ya. Sounds good? My, my, what a perfect, scary movie,” he narrates to himself, to you, to the two victims, who looked like they were about to mentally lose it. <3

He skips with the foreplay, the blowjob, the fingering. He gets right to it. He wants his victims to see his pretty girl, on his own terms. He roughly pushes you down onto the floor, strong hands positioning your hips in place, giving your ass a few harsh spanks <3 you hear the belt buckle slip, and soon enough, you can feel the warmth of his already hard cock near your puffy pussy.

Your eyes are drawn to the couple. You loved being shown off, being watched. They did not want to watch you. But that is okay. Billy is going to make them. :)

They watch in horror as he starts rutting into you like a beast, bloody knife that he used on one of the victims nearing your neck, staying there. The knife soon drops, he gives it to you to hold as he starts losing control. You were too, feeling so full of him, getting an extra serving of his cum :) was your favorite thing to do.

You smiled as the couple looked on in horror. Billy pulled out just the last second before, and came all over your face. “Look so pretty with my cum all over your face, sweet girl. Clean it up f’me, yeah?” You nod.

After you wipe it off, Billy steps back in front of the two victims. “See how nicely I treat my girl? I’m her daddy, after all. Just wanted to show her to you. She’s mine, forever will be. What a nice show the two of you got,” he chuckles, before stabbing one of them, the screams could be heard from down the block.

Billy finished off the other one, not before giving her a good slap and punch. <3 The pool of blood covers the entire kitchen tiling, making it seem red everywhere. It’s on your shoes, on Billy’s. He takes his mask off, and picks you up in his arms.

“Did so good f’me today, sweet girl. So proud of you,” he praises you. “You did good too, Billy. I love how rough you are with them.” He smiles again, giving you a tender kiss. “Let’s leave, huh? Go back home, watch a scary movie?,” he asks. You nod, staying still in his arms as he carries you over the blood, and back out to the woods.

The two of you make it back to the van. They won’t catch you. As long as you’re together, everything was just fine.

#liz’s masterlist #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #billy loomis fanfiction #billy Loomis hot #ghostface imagine #stu macher smut #dark!billy loomis smut #liz writes 🖤#pls don’t let it flop I’m proud of it!

1K notes · View notes

liliesdiary · 7 months ago

Text

── .✦ SCREAM ✦. ──

➢ Face Of An Angel, Body Of A Porn Star Masterlist

☆ 「 Ghostface develops an extreme obsession with you, the infamous porn star named soft angel who so happens to be his classmate. The face of an angel and the body of a porn star. 」

Dead Dove Do Not Eat Series ↓

☆ "Please Don't Kill Me, Mr. Ghostface!"

「 ghostface fucks you in a dark alleyway and makes you his as he holds a knife to your throat. 」

☆ Ghostface's Sex Doll

「 ghostface kidnaps you and keeps you as his sex doll 」

☆ Ghostface's Broken doll

「 A broken doll. That's all you were to him. An obedient doll, listening to every command. He loved to violate you and you loved it. 」

Ethan Landry ↓

☆ Tear You Apart (Dark!Ethan Landry)

「 He wanted nothing more than to tear you apart. 」

More for Ghostface ↓

☆ Scream For Me, Doll

「 The sight of your boyfriend in that infamous Ghostface mask made you want to scream. 」

☆ Scream Headcanons

「 Stu Macher x Sidney Prescott Headcanons 」

217 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 14 days ago

Text

Scream Masterlist (18+)

Main Masterlist | AO3 | Pinned Post / About asks

MASKED GHOSTFACE

Every inch Series. You have your way with Ghostface while he's knocked out, setting off a wild, smutty ride. Movie trailer by carminepoison.

Rat in a cage One shot. Trapped in a freezing university lab, you and Ghostface reach a temporary truce to stay warm.

Domestication One shot. You get stuck in the pet door trying to escape Ghostface, and he noncons you while you're stuck.

Double vision - Ghostface & fem Ghostface. One shot. You wake up kidnapped and get double-teamed: smothered in ghostface pussy then stuffed with ghostface cock.

Blurbs: Jealous of your date | Waking up cold

BILLY LOOMIS

Prescott House Bed & Breakfast One shot. You stay the night in Sidney's haunted childhood home and Billy comes through the window.

The Leak | Murderbait Two shot, so far. Years after a mistrial, Billy Loomis is your sleazy landlord. He violates your privacy, but he's so fucking hot.

135 notes · View notes

sweatyracoon · 5 months ago

Text

Unlikely Scene

Based on this edit

A/n: I watched this edit and literally screamed. I would kill for them fr fr 💀

Warnings: smut? Knife play, blood? Death, Sub reader, knife fucking, fear play? Threesome, penetration, mxm, dom Lee know, switch Seungmin, freaky reader, let me know if I missed anything

You had known for while who your boyfriends were. And it didn’t bother you in the slightest. You were surprised when you first found out, but you were quick to assure them that you were heavily into it.

Ever since the killings had started, and you heard about it from the news, you were more intrigued than scared. You had always had a macabre fascination for murderers and their reasonings. You had studied a lot of them, in fact. Even fell in love with the idea of dating a killer, hoping that he would use it against you if he ever got angry with you. Threaten you with any weapon of their choice. Make you beg.

It made your knees weak just thinking about it.

When you saw that iconic black mask with a face that looked as if it were melting, you felt your heart flutter. Not in fear, but curiosity. The news itself had said each killing had started with a phone call. The killer was male, and enjoyed toying with his victims. That was all they knew. It made you fantasize about him, and how his voice sounded. You had become obsessed with this killer in particular.

To have a notorious serial killer in your lifetime made you squeal in excitement, and not only that, he was in your town! Why you were excited, you didn’t know. You knew that you should be afraid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be.

You kept your doors and windows locked, but you stayed up, wondering who was next. If you knew them. If he was anywhere near you. What type of blade did he use? Did he even use a blade? What if he used just regular kitchen scissors? You couldn’t help it as your mind wandered during the early hours.

You finally drifted to sleep.

The next day, reports were consistently flowing through the news about the new killer, and how the locals had dubbed him Ghostface. The name made you shiver, the sound of it rolling off your tongue in admiration.

How could he have gotten a fan following so quickly?

You unlocked your phone, inputting his name in the tag bar, millions of posts appearing in seconds. You saw pictures of people wearing a similar mask, but you noticed that none of them were the same. It made you wonder if the killers mask was custom made. You also saw fake deaths and pretty girls chewing their bubble gum while calling the guy a creep.

They might be next, you hoped, rolling your eyes.

A couple weeks later, two more deaths were caused at the hands of your new obsession, the people unknown to you. You didn’t lose any sleep over it. But you noticed that the next video caught of him, his body was slightly different. To most people, they wouldn’t notice. But you watched this man closely. The next photo was the same mask. The scuff near the chin and the small indent near the right eye didn’t go unseen by you, but this body was a few inches taller, and his shoulders broader.

That’s not him…is it?

You suddenly doubted yourself, unsure if you were paying enough attention. You cursed at yourself, pulling out your phone, looking at your ghostface file.

Okay. You confirmed that it most definitely wasn’t the same guy. The original was smaller, and more built. This guy was a tall scrawny guy. But the robes and large mask made it hard to see. Even the news people didn’t even notice it. They kept on speaking as if it were your killer. But it wasn’t. You sighed out, suddenly wondering if this was a two man job? Maybe three? Or if this was just a phony that wanted attention.

You sighed, hopping in the shower on your second floor. You didn’t even hear your phone ringing, the shower flooding your ear drums, the steam making you lazy.

When you stepped out, you noticed the missed call. It was from an unknown number, making you shrug, drying your hair. Two minutes later as you’re putting on your shorts, your phone rings again. The same number.

You answer, wiping your legs.

“Hello, y/n,” a raspy voice greeted, making you freeze.

“Hello? Do I know you?” You ask casually, dropping your towel at your feet.

“You might have seen me on tv. I’m a pretty big deal right now, some might say…an icon,” he said, chuckling a bit at the end. You barely caught it.

You had a feeling as to where this was going. You remembered that the news lady said it all started with a phone call. Your breath hitched in your throat, but your insides turned to jello, arousal pooling in your stomach.

“Well, give me a hint, then. What type of people consider you an icon?” You turned slowly, facing your bathroom door, looking passed the hinges into your room. Empty.

“The not so nice people. The ones that want to hurt others…People that crave violence, that worship the wrong god…And guess what? I see that you idolize me, princess. So which type of person are you? You don’t seem violent, just curious,” You could tell he was using a voice changer, but despite knowing it was fake, your thighs clenched together at his on point answer. You breathed deeply.

“I-How did-?” You stuttered, your face flushing. You had all of your Ghostface memorabilia in the guest bedroom, and if he knew that you geeked out over him, that meant he was here. In your home. You were next.

“You must worship the wrong god, sweetheart. Such a shame it has to be you tonight,” he almost sounded genuine, but it was hard to tell with his altered voice. You stepped forward towards your bed, sitting at the edge.

“You’re here?” You whispered, earning a laugh from him.

“Yes, sweetheart. I am.”

Your eyes glazed over, the reality of the situation reaching you before you knew it. A shudder ran through you, and you decided to press your luck. It was silent on the other end, and you took your chance.

“Can I ask you a question, sir?”

You heard a small gasp from him, making you lightly smile.

“Sir? Well with such nice manners, I shall grant you a question or two,” his voice was the same, but the tone turned slightly more playful.

“Are there…are there two of you? I noticed that, you looked a bit different from before…It’s hard to explain-“ you were cut off with a solid answer.

“Yes. There are two of us. A team, if you will,” his voice was thin now, almost reserved, which was so different then the previous playful killer that you had gotten used to in those few minutes.

“Lucky for you, we both came tonight,”

Your eyes widened, unsure how to feel at that statement. Both? What did that mean for you? Are they both gonna try and kill you? Was one here to take pictures while the other stabbed you to death? Your mind wandered, not hearing what he said to you before hanging up.

Your hand dropped to your side, your phone sliding from your palm and onto the floor. You sat still, suddenly aware of the footsteps coming from your hallway. They sounded heavy, and moved with a purpose.

Your eyes caught the black robes as they glided into your room, a knife in his hand. Just one?

He paused in front of you, frozen. You wondered what he was thinking, considering he was wearing the damn mask. You felt your panties sticking to your wet core, making you move your legs. You were desperately hoping he would take the mask off at least once before he killed you. You wanted to see the face of the man that had gotten you hooked over the past few months. It was the least he owed you.

He shifted on his feet, not coming closer.

He almost looked uncomfortable. You tilted your head.

“Were you the one on the phone?” You asked calmly, causing the man to recoil in response.

“I was,” you heard a voice say from your hallway.

You didn’t even hear his steps. When he emerged, he was wearing the same outfit and mask as the other, and you noticed how he was the taller of the two, the one with the broad shoulders. You gasped. He took his palace next to his comrade, towering over both he and you.

“Well?” He cooed, his voice significantly different from how he sounded on the phone. It was lighter and angelic. He could be a singer during the day. He tilted his head as you did to the other, his posture making you feel things you had never felt before.

“Can I see you both? Before you…you know?” You cringe at the thought of death, and the shorter of the two recoiled yet again.

“Why aren’t you running? You should be scared,” he finally spoke, his English slightly broken. Almost as if he was from out of the country.

“Cause she’s fucked up. Ain’t that right sweetheart?” The taller answered for you, making your mouth dry. His voice was so sweet, but his tone condescending. All you could do was stare as thy looked at each other through the masks.

“Let’s let her see. After all, she isn’t gonna be around much longer tonight,” he sighed, almost as if it were a chore.

Your focus was now pointed at them fully, watching the smaller struggle internally before sighing as well, nodding. They both reached for the hems of the masks, tugging the off. At first you couldn’t see their faces, shaking their heads to fix their messy hair. But when they flipped them up, your jaw dropped.

They were absolutely gorgeous. The shorter, his features were sharp, his eyes slanted like a cat. And his lips were thin, his bunny teeth showing as he cringed at the feeling of his hair pointing in every direction. His adams apple shaped like a heart as he tilted his neck to pop it. His gaze was intense as he observed you. His muscular build framed by the robe.

The taller of the two, scrawny, but firm. His broad shoulders held his beautiful face, his cheeks round, and his eyes big and devastating, reminding you of a puppy. His hair brown with a blonde bang. And his lips framed the silver braces shimmering as he smiled.

You fought the urge to make a noise of plea.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” The taller asked with a grin, making you gulp.

You didn’t respond, unsure if there was a right answer or not. You continued looking at them, unable to stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together, sighing at the friction.

“Answer me.” His voice deepened, almost like a growl. You gasped when he came to stop in front of you, grabbing your chin to look up at him.

“Are you turned on right now?” He questioned, a mocking tone lacing his voice as he grinned at you.

Your eyes watered slightly, feeling a little spacey.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

He laughed, letting go of your chin, making you whine at the loss of his touch. He stepped back, his grin spreading as he went to whisper something into his friend’s ear. His eyes darkened as he smirked, both turning to you with lust in their gaze.

“Lay down,” the shorter barked the order, and you obeyed immediately, making their eyes widen in shock. They didn’t expect you to comply so easily.

“What should I call you guys?” You mutter, watching as they both went to opposite sides of the bed.

The looked at each other before nodding.

“Lee Know,” the boy said at your right.

“Seungmin,” the one on your left said.

Their names were beautiful to you, and suddenly you wanted to sing them as a mantra, your own prayer. But you held back, not wanting this moment to end.

They both just stared at what you for what felt like hours, your legs brushing against each other to relieve yourself any way you could. Your eyes caught Seungmin gaze, locking onto him as you admired him from your position. You didn’t notice Lee know moving his knife to brush against your throat, making you freeze, eyes widened but still focused on seungmin.

You felt the cool metal brush against your skin, moving lower, reaching your top. He paused before moving above them lower. You whined at the muted feeling of the knife above your clothes, making them both chuckle.

“Your liking this aren’t you, sweetheart? You like Lee Knows knife?” Seungmin cooed, bringing his hand up to caress your face.

You sniffled, “Yes,” you whine, your legs twitching when he pushed the tip of the board into your inner thigh. A slight prick that made you see stars. You turned to look at the other man, watching as he slipped it into the waistband of your shorts.

He used his other hand, using it and the knife to pull them off, immediately noticing you wearing nothing underneath. He groaned, tossing your shorts to the side. You gasped when the blade met your skin again, the sudden chill painful before heating into a deep fire.

“Then you wouldn’t mind him fucking you with it?” Your eyes widened, turning back to Seungmin, seeing his cocky grin. He brushed a hair from your face, raising his brows. “What, sweetheart? You don’t want this? Don’t want us?”

If you were in your right mind, you would be able to tell he was manipulating you, but you were too far gone to care, and you really wanted this. Wanted them.

“I want it! Please! I want it so bad…” you groaned, moving your hips slightly.

Seungmin smiled before watching Lee know flip the knife, placing the handle at your entrance.

The handle with warm from his hands, a deep contrast to the chill of the blade.

“Ready?” Lee Know asked. You barely had the chance to respond as he thrusted the handle in, pressing it to the hilt. The beginning of the blade hit your ass, but he positioned it to where it couldn’t cut you.

You moaned loudly, your back arching as he started thrusting the handle at a steady pace. You whimpered, turning back to Seungmin. He no longer held his mocking smile, instead his face filled with concentration as he watched where Lee Knows hands met your middle, his braces showing from his open mouth.

“You like it, Seungmo? She pretty, ain’t she?” Lee Know slurred, staring at his friend.

“So pretty, Minnie,” he breathed, listening to the squelching of your pussy. He looked up and caught his gaze, both of them staring at each other. It made your toes curl.

Suddenly Lee know pushed forward, capturing seungmin in a kiss. He was caught by surprise, but melted into it, quickly slipping tongue. You watched as you were being fucked, the sight alone enough to make you finish.

You felt the coil in your stomach burn hotter with each second, but it finally snapped when you heard the high pitch moan from seungmin. You came hard as the boys separated, a string of saliva connecting them together.

“Good girl, y/n,” Lee Know mumbled, his lips wet and swollen.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing.

You opened your eyes to see them both staring at you, their eyes glossy and focused.

“Did the knife cut you?” Seungmin asked, reaching for your discarded shorts.

You huffed out, not expecting that question.

“No…are you guys gonna…?” You made a slash motion at your neck, watching seungmin look at you hard.

“No…But I have another idea for you,” his playful tone back, he grinned at the two of you.

“Be our girlfriend. Our watchdog. Let us know if anyone’s on to us. I see you already have done plenty of research, sweetheart,” His head tilted as he grinned at you.

You looked at Lee know, and he nodded, smiling. You noticed the slick on the handle of the knife. You reached for it, Lee know flinching, thinking you were going to retaliate. Instead, you brought it to your lips, licking it seductively as you looked at them both.

“I’d be honored,” you giggled, making them smile.

That’s how you all become partners in crime <3

208 notes · View notes

sweetbcgs · 22 days ago

Text

paige bueckers masterlist ୨୧

fluff - ⟡ , angst - ❀ , smut - 𖦹

blurbs/fics :

injured hearts ❀ ⟡

casual ❀

glasses 𖦹

we hug now ❀

headcanons :

gf headcanons ⟡ 𖦹

inexperienced reader ⟡ 𖦹

ghostface paige ⟡ ❀ 𖦹

#sweetbcgs masterlists #paige bueckers x fem reader #ghostface paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn wbb

86 notes · View notes

riddleauthor · 7 months ago

Text

⛥ 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆

Hey babe, I'm Lady Riddle! Here you'll find imagines and one-shots about the Slytherin Boys, playlists, moodboards, p! links and other things I'll discover along the way. Check it out! 🖤

Please send me asks as much as you want, especially ideas for writing (I'll respond once your request is ready) <33

★ 𝖘𝖑𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓 𝖇𝖔𝖞𝖘

imagines (soon)

kinktober masterlist

asks masterlist

ghostface pic (mattheo, tom, theodore)

erotic gif (mattheo, tom, theodore)

ghostface p!link 1

ghostface p!link 2

ghostface p!link 3

ghostface p!link 4

slytherin boys playlist

★ 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖔 𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊

p! links pt. 1

p! audios

carnal desires imagines

b&w vibes playlist

riddle brothers playlist

★ 𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊

p! links pt. 1 (soon)

p! links professor pt. 2 (soon)

professor riddle playlist

riddle brothers playlist

★ 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖋𝖔𝖞

p! links (soon)

p! audios (soon)

★ 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖔𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖙

p! links (soon)

p! audios (soon)

★ 𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖟𝖔 𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖐𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖊

p! links (soon)

p! audios (soon)

★ 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝖟𝖆𝖇𝖎𝖓𝖎

p! links (soon)

p! audios (soon)

★ 𝖗𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖑𝖚𝖘 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐

p! links (soon)

p! audios (soon)

★ 𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖞 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓

p! links (soon)

p! audios (soon)

English is not my first language. I hope you like it! <3

Don't repost anything anywhere else besides playlists and don't claim them as your own! For any requests like translations send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated!

385 notes · View notes

animasola86 · 7 months ago

Text

🔥 KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

NOTES: This year, I'll keep it strictly no fandom, but I'll try my hands at teratophilia/monster fucking to keep it interesting! Also I wanna go back to reader-insert to switch it up again.

If you enjoy smut between humans, please take a look at my original fiction and my smut drabbles.

And now, please have a list of my Kinktober 2024 submissions! 🔥

🐇 Down the Rabbit('s) Hole(s)

m!vampire x f!reader (words: 11k)

Prompts: petplay, group sex, abduction, vampires, f/m

Summary: Waking up in a cage, you find yourself face to face with a strange but handsome man, who puts a leash on you and introduces you to his two friends... they seem most delighted about their new pet, you, on the other hand, not so much, but maybe you can be convinced.

Additional Tags: explicit sexual content, dubcon, mind control, cages/collars, size difference, oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, biting

Read on here, on AO3 or on Literotica

🐺 A Filling Experience

knotting!dildo x f!reader (words: 9.8k)

Prompts: masturbation, sex toys, knotting

Summary: When you ordered this fantasy dildo, you were sure you picked a smaller size, but now that it's here, ready to be tested out, you can't fight its allure for long.

Additional Tags: explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, creampies, breeding, mating, possessed object

Read on here or on AO3

😈 Fork-Tongued Lover

m!demon x f!reader (words: 7.1k)

Prompts: demons, manipulation, anal play

Summary: Your boyfriend is a demon, and while you're not quite sure how that came to be, you are all in now - as he is all into you, literally, using his demonic powers to stretch your body to its limits until he can poke at your soul, eager to devour it (and you) whole.

Additional Tags: explicit sexual content, somnophilia, oral/vaginal/anal sex, cockwarming, deepthroating, deep penetration, overstimulation

Read on here or on AO3

🦑 A Special Little Toy

sentient!squid x f!reader (words: 1.2k)

Prompts: tentacles

Summary: One month ago, you found a little creature while skinny-dipping (or maybe it found you?). You took it in (quite literally) as your little pet, and this is how you nurture it.

Additional tags: explicit sexual content, assisted masturbation, double penetration, sentient sex toy, mirror sex, "object" insertion

Read on here

🎃 A Night to Remember (tumblr/AO3)

misc!monsters x f!reader (words: 1.5k)

Choose your own adventure smut series (part 1 of 6)! Can be read in succession or by choosing one of three options!

Summary: You are invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, promising a night full of surprises. Are you ready for this adventure?

First option (part 2 of 6)

👻 A Knife to Remember (tumblr/AO3)

ghostface x f!reader (words: 3.8k)

Prompts: masks/costumes, knife kink/knife play, anonymous sex

Second option (part 3 of 6)

🟩 A Shot to Remember (tumblr/AO3)

slime x f!reader (words: 2.8k)

Prompts: slime, tentacles, aphrodisiacs, triple penetration

Third option (part 4 of 6)

🐺 A Knot to Remember (tumblr/AO3)

m!werewolf x f!reader (words: 7.6k)

Prompts: werewolves, knotting, breeding

(part 5 of 6)

🦇 Fangs to Remember (tumblr/AO3)

m!vampires x f!reader (words: 3.6k)

Prompts: vampires, spitroasting, noncon, blood drinking

(part 6 of 6)

🐻 A Hug to Remember (tumblr/AO3)

m!shapeshifter x f!reader (words: 7.1k)

Prompts: aftercare, creampies, cockwarming

BONUS 1

🏚️ The House (tumblr/AO3)

misc!monsters x f!reader (words: 2.7k)

BONUS 2

🫦 The Marking (tumblr/AO3)

m!werewolf x f!reader (words: ?k)

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #masterlist #work in progress #x reader #monster smut #monsterfucker #teratophillia #original fiction #werewolves #vampires #slime #tentacles #ghostface #smut

164 notes · View notes

rapturously · 1 year ago

Note

I haven’t seen any billy loomis content on your blog ,,, would love to see some smut of him! nothing specific, I know you’ll write something good!

devil in disguise.

➾ pairing ; billy loomis x fem!reader.

in which billy decides to visit you once your father leaves for his shift — but there’s an additional element.

FORMAT: one-shot — requested.

WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sex during a storm, dirty talk, fingering (f!receiving), cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), heavy knifeplay, billy is a little deranged in this, begging, creampie, cumplay, bloodplay, tiddy sucking, mild body worship, biting, hickeys/marking, choking, hair-pulling, finger sucking

AUTHOR’S NOTE: not gonna lie, I was suffering from billy brainrot and this emerged from my brain. I love him so much !!! I do want to write some more mickey & ethan landry content too, but I do need to tell y’all about my new influx of blorbos lately LOL! love you all so much and thanks for your continued support! Means the world to me!

Whenever it rained in California, you considered it to be a once-in-a-lifetime occasion — wisps of black clouds fluttered overhead, accompanied by the haze of an overcast sky. Even for the evening, the skies were unnaturally dark, making it seem like nighttime altogether. The scent of encroaching dewdrops drifted through your bedroom.

“Honey?” Your father gently tapped his knuckles against the white pane of your door, dressed in his police uniform. “Mind if we talk?” He asked, clearing his throat. The badge of the Woodsboro Sheriff’s Department glistened on his ironed shirt.

With the recent killings of Casey Becker and Steven Orth plaguing your school, your father had reason to be concerned. He was the Chief, after all — he was cleaning up mess after mess, investigating these murders without any leads. Stress shimmered upon his features, showing up as heavy bags underneath his eyes.

You swiveled around within your seat, busying yourself with homework for the evening. Books were strewn across your desk, accompanied by a computer that barely ran nowadays anyway.

“Sure,” You cleared your throat, awkwardly shuffling away from your chair to the edge of your bed. “What’s up?” The relationship with your father was somewhat tenuous — being the daughter of a police chief came with unwanted attention and his constant overprotective nature.

“You know about the murders,” He began, looming in the doorway of your bedroom. His countenance glistened with a thinly-veiled anxiousness, but also a bit of fear. You rarely saw your father show anything remotely close to terror, but here he was. “About your classmates.”

“Yeah,” Your brows furrowed together — where was he going with this? “You don’t want me to leave the house anymore, do you?” An exasperated sigh escaped you, but he immediately shook his head.

“No, no. I just think …” He clicked his tongue. “No visitors for a while, not until we clear everyone at the school as a suspect.” A sinking feeling pooled within the pit of your stomach, accompanied by disappointment. It meant that your boyfriend couldn’t come over — indefinitely.

Billy Loomis was a mysterious boy, cunning and charming with a silver tongue — he constantly wrapped you up in it, time and time again. He’d broken up with Sidney Prescott last year, not long after her mother had passed away. He was more than good to you, but your father wasn’t convinced.

His suspicion of Billy wasn’t subtle whatsoever, and it irked you at times. You’d gotten into several arguments about the morality and character of your paramour, and your father had inevitably relented, letting you date him — but there was always protest involved.

“I think you want to say Billy, Dad.” You uttered, lips curling into a sour frown as you stomped back to your chair with an indignant huff. “You’ve always disliked him. This isn’t about anyone else I hang out with — it’s about him.” Your tone became clipped and volatile, prompting you to return to studying.

Chief Burke let out a deep sigh, knowing he’d upset you with this news. “We’ll talk about that later,” He murmured, checking his watch with a thin-lipped expression. “I have to get going to the station.” Your father stepped forward, attempting to press a kiss against the top of your head — but you’d flinched away.

Gritting your teeth together, you attempted to maintain a shred of kindness towards your father. You wanted to explode, but it wasn’t a good time. He was under a lot of stress. “Love you.” You sighed, grabbing your pencil as you returned to writing something down in your notebook.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

From behind the curve of your shoulder, you watched as your father retreated from your bedroom, shutting the door behind him in the process. A twinge of guilt flickered through you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the villain. Your mother was out on work-related business, and your father was drowning away in work.

Oftentimes, you were left to your own devices, absorbed in school, hanging out with your friends, or spending time with Billy — but that was all on an eternal hiatus, it seemed. You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, stepping toward your door. The house was eerily silent, just you and the encroaching thunderstorm.

A clap of thunder rattled the skies, causing you to nearly jump out of your own skin. Goosebumps formed along the column of your spine as you crept down the stairs, traipsing towards your kitchen. Being home alone had a plethora of perks — the alcohol being one of them. If your father knew about all of the underage drinking, he’d likely have a heart attack.

There were so many things that he didn’t know about.

A brief flash of lightning illuminated your surroundings, casting the kitchen in a quick burst of white. You opened up the refrigerator, carefully removing one of your dad’s Abita’s from the side door. After rattling around in the cupboards, you found the bottle opener, popping open the amber lager as a stream of vapor emerged from the top.

You were swift to retreat back upstairs, latching your bedroom door in the process. You placed the beverage along the edge of your desk, listening to the atmospheric deluge of rain pattering outside, falling against the rooftops. You left your window open, lulled into a sense of comfort from the stormy evening.

A sharp thump reverberated against the side paneling of your house, prompting you to rock forward. Normally, you wouldn’t have given it much thought, but considering that someone was killing your classmates, it filled you with a pang of dread.

Hesitant, you crept toward the window, and through the haze of rain and darkness, you noticed a figure moving against the tall wall of lattice that climbed around the back of your home. You squinted, head canting to one side as you realized who was sneaking around.

Billy’s soaked frame appeared before you within an instant, still scaring you as a strangled gasp escaped your lips. “Billy!” You squeaked, lips parted as you noticed his hair, slick and plastered to his skull. The blue-and-white flannel he wore atop a white t-shirt remained stuck to him like a second skin.

“Hey,” He greeted cooly, flashing you one of those little smiles that made butterflies erupt within your stomach. Those warm, earthen-colored hues shamelessly flickered across your attire, finding some sort of attraction in the long-sleeved nightgown you wore. “Cold?”

“Not really,” You mused, nibbling along your lower lip as he ogled the still-icy beer sitting atop your desk. A bemused chuckle left him as he sauntered forward, head cocked to one side. “You’re soaked. Did you walk all the way here?”

“Thought I’d walk, but I wasn’t expecting the rain,” Billy murmured, taking a hold of your drink. “A little brazen, don’t you think? Aren’t you worried that your father might arrest you for underage drinking?” He teased, mouth curling into a playful grin as he took a swig of lager.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” You chimed, nose wrinkling in amusement as he passed the bottle to you. With a brief exhale, you took a drink of lager, feeling the bitter twang of alcohol swarm your mouth as you swallowed. “Do you need me to throw anything in the dryer?” For someone soaked to the bone, Billy remained unphased.

He shook his head in dismissal, clicking his tongue soon afterwards. “No,” Billy’s brows furrowed together for a moment, and then he peered toward the door. “Your old man not around tonight?” Normally, he was always quiet for your sake — and you were often a ball of nerves, but you seemed so carefree tonight.

“He’s gone until the morning.” It was a declaration and a not-so-subtle hint — you could stay. Your relationship with Billy was still somewhat new and flourishing, but you were hoping that it would only continue to intensify. You hadn’t really done much of anything outside of making out and touching. He was patient with you, too.

Billy hummed, gaze surveying your bedroom with a sheen of curiosity. He often searched for new details or anything he found intriguing. His fingertips grazed across your quilted bedspread, and then toward the open window. “Do you like thunderstorms?” He asked. “Or do you keep the window open for me?”

“Would it make you feel better if I said both?” A bubbly burst of laughter escaped you as you tidied up your desk, putting your studying aside for the time being. You enjoyed the lightheartedness of it all despite the dour weather and less-than-savory conversation you’d had with your father twenty minutes prior.

His footsteps were light across the carpeted floor until he approached you, palm cupping your jaw with a certain level of care. At the very beginning, he asked you for everything — for a touch, for a kiss. You didn’t want him to ask nowadays, careening into the warmth of his hand as he brought you in for a kiss.

This bout of shyness always rippled through you whenever he was near — his presence was so enigmatic and overwhelming in the best of ways. He smelled like a smoky cologne, accompanied by the scent of dewdrops. You shivered when his arm crept to your hips, lightly massaging at your waist over the cotton of your nightgown.

Billy was an incredible kisser — always walking a fine line of soft and voracious. You wondered what it would be like for him to really give in. It was a fantasy that had crossed your mind more than you could count. His head tilted slightly, thumb tracing over your chin before he withdrew, stare bleeding with a thinly-veiled desire.

“You’re beautiful,” He uttered reverently, idly dragging the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Billy’s voice was husky, an alluring drawl that was barely above a whisper. It sent a shudder of delight cascading down your spine, anticipation pooling within the pit of your stomach.

A brief sigh left you, trapped within your throat as you tilted inward, hands pressed against his chest. The material was damp underneath your palms, not that you cared. He had snuck through your bedroom window countless times — but it felt so much heavier this time around, given your father’s stark statement of not wanting you to see him.

You ducked your head, heat crawling across your body as you chewed at your lower lip. Billy knew that you were smitten, and he devoured every scrap that he could, but something felt off, as if you had something to tell him, dancing upon the tip of your tongue. “Hey,” He murmured, titling your chin up to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just …” You couldn’t lie to him. Billy had this radar for bullshit, able to see right through you, pierce your armor with ease. “It’s my dad, that’s all.” Admittedly, you were hesitant to reveal the truth, considering that Billy sometimes had a strong reaction to things.

Billy had a feeling that your father had it out for him — an intelligent man, to be certain. Of course, such suspicions were true, but he wasn’t about to make that known. A huff of laughter escaped him, followed by another debonair grin. “What, does he want to arrest me?” He mused, pressing a string of soft kisses along your jaw.

“Something like that,” You mumbled, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled incredible, like a dusky night, drawing you in with his magnetizing pull. “He doesn’t want me to see you right now because of all of the killings and stuff.” The confession felt like a weight within your chest, but oddly enough, Billy didn’t seem too angered by this.

“Does he think I’m a suspect?” Billy questioned, point-blank. His tone became rather blunt, but still held that little shred of amusement. In the grand scheme of things, he was on the right track — unbeknownst to you, of course. It would stay that way.

“I don’t think so. He’s just skeptical, I guess. It’s his job.” You hesitated, drawing away just enough to get a look at your boyfriend’s handsome visage. “I just don’t want you to feel threatened or feel like you can’t come around. I don’t care what he says — I want to be with you.” You murmured, brows furrowing together.

His jaw tensed, gaze incendiary and oozing with a lasciviousness as he pressed a lingering kiss to your mouth, fingers idly stroking aside some of your hair. Billy had grown very fond of you, but with that, there was always some twisted desire to corrupt — the obsession that blossomed with it all.

“You have me,” Billy exhaled, body pressed against yours, hands pinning you close. “This all feels a little defiant, doesn’t it?” His tone had dropped an octave, akin to a delicate purr as he brushed his mouth against yours. You leaned in this time, pressing your lips against his as you chased after that sensation with a fervor.

“Yeah,” You whispered, feeling a newfound thrill churn within your stomach, coupled with exhilaration. “Can you stay tonight?” You asked, fingers gently weaving themselves into his mousy tresses, tugging at the hair around the nape of his neck.

His head cocked to one side as he arched an eyebrow. “I thought I couldn’t,” Staying implied one thing — sex. You had never propositioned it until now, let alone entertained the thought. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” He didn’t want to rush anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t prepared for.

The constant feeling of doom hung over you — religion and saving yourself had always been a point of contention in your family. You were worried that Billy would leave you if he had you, but you knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were ready to have your first time and have it be with him.

Your head began to bob in a little nod, heat creeping across your body as it blossomed within your cheeks with a burning sensation. “I want you,” You whispered, breath hitching within your throat. “I — I need you, really. I don’t want you to go, Billy.” You mumbled, nearly gasping when his hand began to caress along the curve of your thigh.

“Are you sure?” Billy asked, brows knitting together in a moment of concern. “We don’t have to do anything intense,” He reassured, pressing another kiss against your jaw, and then to your neck. “I don’t want you to feel rushed.” Admittedly, he wanted nothing more than to touch you, to take your virginity, make you feel good, but it needed to be on your terms.

It felt good — the spark of retaliation and rebellion against your father, seeing Billy again in such a secretive fashion. You knew that if anyone found out, namely your parents, you’d be in a world of trouble. Fortunately, it was just the two of you and an empty house.

“You’ve been really patient with me,” You murmured, a soft sigh drifting from your lips as you sank forward into his embrace. “I want this.” Billy’s constant chase for consent and ensuring your comfort was beyond attractive, and you were thankful for it, but this was long overdue.

A soft laugh burst forth from his chest as Billy stroked at your cheek, calloused fingertips traveling across the delicate plane of your visage. “I would wait for as long as you wanted me to.” He uttered, gaze shifting from affectionate to incendiary, simmering with an unmistakable sensuality.

He was so good to you — your ex-boyfriend paled in comparison to Billy Loomis in more ways than one. “I know,” You sighed, lips twitching into a smitten smile as your digits plucked at the damp fabric of his shirt. You pressed another chaste kiss against his mouth. “Should I shut the window?”

Billy clicked his tongue, mouth twitching into a faint smirk. “No,” He swept strands of hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek within his warm palm. “You’ll have to be quiet. You think you can handle that?” The little evocation of a challenge was prevalent — your insides turned to metaphorical mush as you shivered.

“I can’t promise anything.” Your voice was wrought with excitement, barely above a whisper. The blood was rushing to your head and heart, hot and fervent as Billy gently guided you toward your bed. His smirk morphed into a wolfish grin, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

As he placed you down against the mattress, atop your quilted bedspread, he crawled in between your legs, lips hungrily returning to kiss you. He tasted like a lick of amber lager, intertwined with breath mints and the hint of cigarettes. Your heart began to beat faster as Billy’s hand rubbed along your thigh, digits flicking at the hem of your panties.

The ambiance of the thunderstorm outside provided a rather atmospheric setting, on top of the dim lighting throughout your bedroom. Rain noisily pounded against rooftops and the surrounding neighborhood, as if masking the salaciousness of your actions. Your hands pushed at his flannel, and he took it off, along with his white t-shirt.

“May I?” You whispered, eyes wide and mesmerized as Billy let out a brief chuckle. He was so painfully handsome, especially when he smiled — it only served to make you squirm, goosebumps erupting underneath his wandering touch.

“You’re sweet,” Billy murmured, voice deliciously husky as he pressed a kiss against your mouth, teeth playfully snagging your lower lip. The sheepish, stupefied reaction you had was well worth it, prompting him to grab one of your wrists, steering your hand to wherever you wanted it to go. “I want to see you.”

His composure was beginning to crumble, foundation being chipped away at. You were so infectious, like a fever, and Billy only wanted more. He had to restrain himself from being rough, watching with lustful eyes as you sat up a little bit.

You shivered when his hands slipped underneath your nightgown, curling into the hem as he helped you take off the lengthy, frilled garment. Billy licked at his lower lip, hooded stare eating you alive once you were stripped of that coverage. The pastel brassiere and panties you wore were just in the way.

“Lay down.” Billy husked, presence exuding a domineering edge without even trying. You silently obeyed, breath hitching within your throat as he covered your body with his, all sinewy muscle and tan skin. His mouth clashed with yours, voracious and all-consuming as he kept himself propped up with one arm.

Curious, needy digits found their way to your chest, groping and kneading at your chest over the material of your bra. “Billy.” You sighed, moaning into his mouth when he bit at your lip again. It was sharp and somewhat painful, but admittedly, you found that minuscule prick of discomfort to be exciting.

With a brusque tug, Billy’s palm circled around your bare breast, massaging at the sensitive flesh as he tugged at your nipple. Your hands flew to the nape of his neck, dragging through his hair as his mouth tore away from yours, only to find their purchase against the slender column of your throat.

Your flesh was velveteen underneath him, warm to the touch as he began to suckle against the sensitive flesh of your jugular. Teeth and lips created a series of marks — some were more obvious than others. A clap of thunder caused you to jump, a soft gasp escaping you as your body clashed with Billy’s.

His grin was tangible, like an imprint seared into your collarbone as he peered at you with those shimmering brown hues. “Scared?” He murmured, flashing those pearlescent teeth in a brief grin. Billy felt your skin erupt with goosebumps, creeping like a wildfire across your body.

“No,” You protested, tongue absentmindedly swiping across your lower lip. You gently tugged on his hair, hands wandering about until you were cupping his narrow face within your palms. “You’re so perfect.” A soft, enthralled sigh escaped you as he stared down at you.

That calculating, searing gaze would have burned right through you if it were possible — you could feel the desire that oozed from eyes alone. Billy turned his head, planting a kiss against your palm as he grabbed your wrist, fingers tangling with yours.

“You’re beautiful,” His voice dipped into a low, lascivious purr, a delicious octave that made you shudder. “You’re mine.” Billy uttered, and for a moment, there was something dark and innately possessive within his voice, something that you hadn’t heard before. While some might’ve found it strange and obsessive, you were hooked.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, feeling his lips press against yours again with a vigor and urgency. Silence drifted between the two of you, but the intensity and desire only seemed to amplify. His kisses were ravenous and passionate, accompanied by teeth and tongue.

“Take this off,” Billy murmured in between kisses, tugging on your brassiere for emphasis. His digits deftly felt along your body, ending up between your legs as he began to touch you. You were barely able to unclasp your bra without squirming and wriggling, hips jolting forward. “Hold still for me, baby.”

Inclined to obey, you ceased your movements, breath hitching within the back of your throat as his hand dipped beneath the waistband of your panties. You felt absolutely pathetic, already wet from just the tension and kissing alone. With this discovery, Billy grinned, letting out a soft laugh as his digits ghosted along your cunt.

“You’re wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet,” Billy crooned, pressing a heated, sloppy kiss against your collarbone. His other hand torturously tugged and caressed at your breast. “So sweet.” He uttered, nipping at the soft flesh of your chest.

You moaned, body set ablaze as he dragged two digits along your cunt, allowing them to sink inward as he briefly touched your clit with his thumb. “Billy,” You whimpered, legs parting for him as he settled between them, reveling in your pleasured expression. “Please, please don’t stop.” You wanted to cry.

A low hum emerged from his chest, mouth pressing gentle, lasting kisses around your breast. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, taking your hardened peak into his maw as he sucked at your nipple. Those experienced, quick fingers developed a rhythm as he stroked along your slit, thumb lazily circling your clit.

Billy could only imagine what you’d be like if he were rough with you — if he had a knife in his hand, licking the blood from your swollen mouth. The thought alone made his cock throb within his jeans, but he would save it for another time.

As he bent you to his will, making you submit with his fingers alone, your body viscerally reacted to his ministrations, back beginning to arch. “B—Billy,” You sighed with passion, goosebumps beginning to coalesce along your spine. “God, feels so good.”

Innocent — that’s what you were. Vulnerable and pious, something to covet. Billy wanted to possess you, breathe you in, control you.

Akin to a canary trapped within the talons of a predator, you squirmed with delight, desperate for his embrace. His digits dipped toward your warm entrance, teasing you with gentle prod. “I’ll try to be gentle,” He crooned. “You make it so hard for me. Just relax.” Billy mumbled, teeth grazing your nipple as he licked at your sternum.

You nodded, stomach churning with molten heat as you felt some pressure. Your fingers dug into the nape of his neck, leaving behind crimson crescents as he kissed along your stomach. His digits sunk into you with some resistance, pushing into your tight cunt. A wanton moan escaped you, mouth agape.

It was a foreign sensation, but you savored every second, cunt clenching pathetically around his fingers as he began to find a sluggish rhythm. Billy kissed his way toward the heat between your thighs, tongue raking liquid heat over your aching core.

A spasm ran through you as a choked whine escaped your mouth, countenance rippling with surprise. “O—Oh,” You croaked, awash with delight as his mouth carefully roamed over your slick cunt. He began to lick and lap at your core — slower, at first — more exploratory. “Billy!” You squeaked.

The myriad of sensations you were experiencing were excruciatingly pleasant. It was pure bliss, feeling his lips caress your slit, digits steadily pumping their way in and out of you as he toyed with your clit. Every mewl and moan only spurred him on.

Something dark and alluring danced within his eyes, and when you lazily rolled your head to look down, his stare could’ve burned right through you. A flash of lightning only contributed to his sinister countenance, lips twitching into a smirk as he lapped at your cunt.

Billy ate you out like a man starved, touching you in places that you’d only dreamed of. His tongue was hot, raking hot embers over your slit as he showered you in endless attention. A strangled gasp escaped you as his fingers stilled, nose bumping against your clit.

His palm splayed out along the meat of your thigh, nails digging in, fingers pressing down hard enough to leave behind bruises. You clawed at his hair, hips lurching forward, but he pinned you down without hesitation, shivering at the sound of your sweet, innocuous moans.

Part of you wanted him to be rough, to really show you how much he desired you. Every fiber of your being ached for him in a way that made you itch, heat crawling across your supple flesh. “You can be rough,” You whispered, feeling the subtle hitch in his throat, tongue stilling atop your clit. “Billy.”

Billy’s jaw tensed, gaze dancing with a subtle malevolence, intermingled with obsession. His darker side often festered under the skin, but when you asked him to be rough, he knew he needed to be careful. He didn’t want to hurt you or scare you away with his potential antics.

“You want me to be rough?” His tone emerged as a low purr, murmured into the pliant meat of your inner thigh. Billy’s teeth suddenly nicked flesh before he licked at your cunt again, grazing your clit in an effort to tease you. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” It was more of a warning than anything else.

Maybe he was right — you hadn’t the slightest clue of where this could lead.

Whatever darkness you saw, part of you viewed it as an act, as a facade for the sake of intimacy. Nonetheless, you still wanted him to be a little more forceful with you. As much as you savored his gentle streak, you wanted the intensity and the heat of the moment.

He wanted to let you stew on it for a little while, lips greedily pursing around your clit as he began to suck a the sensitive clutch of nerves. Billy’s fingers pushed themselves inside of you again, evoking a barrage of pleasured whines and moans from you. It very nearly derailed your train of thought.

With quivering digits, you reached for his hair again, raking through his tresses with a fervor. Billy felt you tug and pull, which only served to spur him on as he finger-fucked you into a blissful oblivion. It was intermingled with delicate licks to your clit, causing you to writhe in-place.

“I’m close,” You whined, hoping that he would keep going or be rough. Part of you wondered why he was so hesitant, but you didn’t want to push the matter. “Billy, please don’t stop!” With a shrill cry, his ministrations only intensified, fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt.

Billy gazed at you with eyes that almost appeared black, simmering with an unrestrained desire. “Yeah?” He purred, lips dutifully returning to suck and lap at your clit. The sensations were mind-numbing, nearly overwhelming as your stomach surged with a churning heat.

He curled his digits inside of you, letting you simmer on that sensation alone before he stopped. Billy finger-fucked you, accompanied by the tantalizing movements of his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of you, delighted to lap at your sweet cunt.

You nodded several times over, bucking toward his mouth as he continued to kiss and suck at your clit. Billy led you into the white-hot abyss of your orgasm, digits drenched in your slick as he withdrew, licking at his lower lip.

The pleasure was almost blinding, body hot and borderline feverish as you attempted to regain your composure. Your chest rose and fell with quick pants, mouth dry as Billy crawled up, covering your body with his as he placed two fingers against your lower lip.

“Open,” It wasn’t a question — it was a demand. Billy’s countenance had become shadowed, jaw tense as he watched you sheepishly open your mouth. You felt filthy for doing something like this, visibly flustered as his digits landed upon your tongue. “Only right if you have a taste.”

You shivered, a noise stirring within your throat as you began to suck, able to taste yourself in the process. He seemed delighted, lips twitching into a subtle smirk as he made you continue to his satisfaction.

“You sure you want this?”

His question was sharp and succinct, annunciated with something penetrating. Billy knew that if he went to his roots, to become something close to who he really was, he ran the risk of scaring you away. Brown eyes bored into you, hawkish and calculating as you withdrew his fingers from your mouth.

“Yes,” You replied, wondering what exactly he had in-mind in terms of being rough. “I trust you.”

A big mistake — your naïveté was laid bare, stretched out along your sleeve. Billy was untrustworthy, a sinister force with the means for destruction, but you were none the wiser. He liked your innocuous nature, the sweetness that oozed from every pore.

“Stay here.” Billy murmured, slipping off of your bed as he made for your bedroom door. You very nearly questioned him, wanting to know where he was going, but a rancorous clap of thunder effectively silenced you as you sank down into your mattress.

You counted — Billy was only gone for three minutes.

When he emerged through your bedroom door, it almost didn’t feel like the same person — not your charming, debonair brown-eyed boyfriend. He seemed possessed, as if something else had grabbed ahold of him. The glint of silver sparkled within his right hand, and that’s when you saw the large kitchen knife.

Something heavy swirled within the pit of your stomach — exhilaration intermingled with fear and uncertainty. You knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, but being rough was a different matter entirely. You gulped, throat thick as Billy moved toward the edge of your bed, available hand grabbing your thigh.

He dragged you close, looming over you with a shimmer in his eyes that told you he was still mostly himself. Even then, that pang of terror gripped you as he prodded the tip of the knife into your thigh.

“Billy,” You exhaled, goosebumps forming underneath the knife’s sharp blade. He continued to trace it across your supple flesh, moving it along your hip bone until he let it ghost above your stomach. “Want you t—to fuck me.” You stammered.

“You want me to fuck you?” Billy murmured, leaning inward, knife in-hand. You felt the blade jut into the swell of your breast, causing you to shudder from the icy chill of the steel. “Maybe I’ll gut you with this, instead.” He stated, though his voice held some modicum of playfulness to it, just enough to ease your nerves.

The doe-eyed look you wore made him frenzied — he wanted nothing more than to see you like this all the time. Billy hastily reached down, unbuckling his jeans with a sudden haste as he crawled on top of you, sticking the tip of the knife into your ribcage.

You gasped, and when you attempted to lean away from the knife, he simply pinned you there. The tip of his cock was oozing with precum, erection desperately grinding along your slit. “Billy!” You whimpered, afraid that he would accidentally dig the knife a little too far.

“Gotta stay still, pretty girl. You don’t want my hand to slip.” He warned, pressing a hot, incendiary kiss to your lips. You reciprocated, cunt throbbing from the added thrill of the blade as he began to ease himself inside of you.

The sudden intrusion made you cry out — you hadn’t done this before or gone this far, and Billy knew that. A myriad of breathy moans escaped you as you attempted to adjust, feeling his leg nudge you apart, spreading you open for him.

He pressed a series of kisses against your face in an effort to soothe you, teeth nicking the soft flesh of your jawline. Billy hesitated, waiting for you to have some time to adjust, heart pounding erratically, akin to the beating of a drum. You reached for his neck, hands tangling together at the nape.

“Still want it rough?” Billy murmured into your ear, hot breath fanning out across the side of your cheek. The blade of the knife prodded into your abdomen, as if it were issuing a stark warning — to turn back, or to proceed. You wanted him more than anything else — rough or not.

You couldn’t deny the excitement and sick thrill you gained from this, as if it had suddenly unlocked unfamiliar territory for you. Billy’s gaze danced with a lustful fire, tongue swiping across his lower lip.

After enough deliberation, you nodded, nearly shying away underneath his shadowed stare. “Yeah, I do.” You whispered, throat becoming thick as he thrust his hips forward, cock burying itself deep into your tight cunt. The feeling was intense, but his eyes were worse.

Billy grinned, throat erupting with a sardonic chuckle as he clicked his tongue. “That’s my girl.” He kept the knife against your stomach, threatening to dig into skin as he began to fuck you. The friction was delicious, breathing heavy, chest to chest, silvery blade prodding at your belly.

“Billy,” You moaned, back arching into the brutality of his thrusts, legs rattling like leaves. His hand grabbed at your leg, hitching it around his waist for better leverage, hips rutting forward in a series of sharp thrusts. “A—Ah! Please don’t stop!”

His teeth brazenly snagged across your lower lip, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He kissed you then — vitriolic copper intermingling between mouths, breath hot and labored as he fucked you in some frenzied state. Your poor cunt clenched around him, drawing him right in.

With a brief adjustment, he moved onto his knees, cock still pounding away at you as he used the grip on your leg as a crutch. Billy dragged the knife along your body, digging the tip into your sternum, letting it ghost above your breasts. He wanted to lick the fear in your eyes — drink it right from the source.

“Look so pretty like this,” He purred, using the cold flat of the knife to press into your chest. It caused you to moan, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as he continued to fuck you at a rather brutal pace. “You like this, don’t you?” Billy huffed, noticing the way your flesh prickled with a barrage of goosebumps.

You nodded, somewhat reluctant to admit to enjoying the roughness of it all. You felt the tip of the knife press just underneath your jaw, causing you to shudder, hips pushing forward as he met you halfway.

Every fiber of your being felt feverishly hot, like a live wire, coursing with raw electricity. The fire that burned bright within your belly demanded to be extinguished, cunt clenching around his cock as Billy continued to fuck you. He very nearly pulled out before ramming himself right back into your tight heat.

Billy momentarily abandoned the knife, grabbing at your hips as he turned you over, manhandling you onto your stomach. You gasped, letting out a series of moans and whimpers as his fingers roamed through your hair, tugging fistfuls of it as he rutted into you.

It was hot and quick, as if he didn’t have any time left at all. “Billy!” You cried out, feeling somewhat abashed as his cock slapped into your cunt, body pressed to yours. Once he’d gotten himself going, you felt the intrusive chill of the knife again, scraping back and forth along your spine.

“I—I’m close,” You panted, hands clawing at the quilt beneath you, nails threatening to pluck the strings and fabric away. Billy didn’t stop for anything, fucking you at a very erratic, feral speed, yanking on your hair. The knife added an element of danger, liquid heat coalescing between your thighs. “Don’t stop.”

“Yeah?” He purred, gritting his teeth together as his cock throbbed with an urgency. Billy groaned — a deep, unrestrained noise, and you yelped when the blade had cut too deep. He didn’t intend to cut you — it was a shallow, superficial wound, but it only drove him crazy. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

The cut on your back oozed with rivulets of blood, not nearly enough to warrant any concern. You moaned, huffing and writhing atop the quilt as Billy pushed into you once more, cumming inside of you without a second thought.

He pulled out midway through, leaving behind a sticky mess of his seed along your cunt and inner thighs, intermingled with your arousal. Your body twitched and spasmed, awash with a sense of relief.

“Shit,” Billy murmured, clamoring away to find you a towel. He pressed it against your back, hoping to wash away some of the blood, even if it wasn’t very much at all. “I’m sorry, baby. I got carried away — I didn’t even think.” He sighed, watching as you attempted to clean yourself up.

“It’s fine, Billy. I know you didn’t mean to,” A soft exhale escaped you as you attempted to regain your composure, hoping to seize another towel as you sheepishly wiped his cum off of your body. You were sensitive and hot to the touch in the aftermath of it all. “I did enjoy it.”

Billy appeared perplexed, neglecting to comment for now. He wanted to take care of you as any dutiful boyfriend would do, retrieving your panties and nightgown as he helped you get dressed again. Outside, the thunderstorm continued to rage on.

“You did?” You shouldn’t have said anything — Billy’s thoughts went somewhere dark and salacious. Now, he wanted to fuck you with the knife all the time. If he were lucky, you’d bear more than one scar. It was a possessive mark, a reminder that you belonged to him.

“Yeah,” You confessed, laying down on your bed. Billy hastily zipped his jeans up, declining to put his shirt back on, given that it was still soaking-wet from the rain. “That was amazing. I’m glad I got to do it with you.”

As he laid down beside you, his gaze became dark and shadowed once again. His finger idly traced across the newly-formed cut on your back, lips pressing themselves all over your neck. “Maybe we could try something different next time.” He proposed.

“Like what?” You asked, admittedly curious as you snuggled against him. His digits idly roamed throughout your hair, mouth briefly pressing against yours before he withdrew altogether.

There was a sly, indiscernible look within his eyes — you didn’t know if you should’ve been worried or not.

“Maybe a costume next time.” Billy murmured, and despite the bemused grin on your face and his subtle smirk, you were entirely oblivious to the multifaceted meaning of his words.

Fortunately for you, you were safe — for now.

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #billy loomis #ghostface fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #scream #scream fanfiction #billy loomis fic #sunkendreams masterlist

481 notes · View notes

f1nalboys · 4 months ago

Text

What Happened to the Cat? ; Randy Meeks

Ghostface!Randy Meeks x Fem!AFAB!Reader

a/n: long time no see! thank you all for being uber paitent with me as i deal with some irl stuff, i appreciate it and the kind words you all have sent into my ask box so much!!!! any and all thoughts are welcomed; lmk how you guys enjoy this take on ghostface ray :D

WORD COUNT: 9,434

WARNINGS: smut, DARK MATERIAL AHEAD, MAJOR DUBCON bordering on noncon tbh. just tread carefully. ghostface!randy, incel!randy, degrading and misogynistic language throughout, knife play, pain play, choking (unsexy kind), costume sex, predator/prey dynamics, primal-esque behavior from randy, coercion, chasing, stabbing, blood, wound fingering (you’ll see), oral + fingering (afab receiving), threats of anal, missionary, randy is actually so fucked up and evil in this one i apologize but not really, cliffhanger-esque ending, proofread but its me.

“Let me lick your pretty piggy cunt, Y/N.”

The ever-familiar modulated voice crackles in the receiver, the hair on your neck standing up on end even as you recognize where the phrase is from. You’re standing in the middle of the hallway, front and back door on either end, dread building in your gut. Ghostface. Every iteration of the son of a bitch has been haunting you for years now, from high school to college and beyond, destroying everything you have known about yourself, your loved ones, and the world, all in the palm of his gloved hand. And here this one was, quoting fucking Black Christmas to you like this was all a joke.

The realization that you had rewatched the movie with your roommate, Randy, last night hits you like a ton of bricks. This fucker had been watching you.

“Fuck you, you freak.”

“Touchy, aren’t you?” He says with a sharp laugh. “You won’t be sayin’ that when I’m fucking you with my knife, now will you, bitch? Sticking your fucking nose in where it doesn’t belong, right? Looking into shit you should’ve left alone.” His tone cuts through you and you whip around, heart pounding in your ears. Of course this had to happen tonight. It was a rare one where Randy had left to go to dinner with some of his friends. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

There’s a creak behind you.

Your head jerks to the side, the flash of black fabric and white plastic darting down a hallway making your stomach flip. Your body is one second behind your brain. You’re screaming at yourself to run, to get to the back door and follow the foot path around the house to your car, to get to the house phone and call for help, to get the fuck out of there. Just as your foot finally begins to move, your head twisting to face forwards, a hand is grabbing your collar and yanking you backwards.

The wooden floor under you is slick, your feet flying forwards as you hit the ground. Pain shoots up from your tailbone as you yelp and the edges of your vision turn black as his hand moves from your collar to your scalp. “Let go!” You shout, hands coming up to grab at his wrist as his fingers tangle into your hair, the feeling of the strands being pulled from your scalp nothing compared to the ache in your skull when he slams your head back down onto the floor twice.

You’re dazed, eyes squeezed shut as you groan. Your hands cradle your head, fingers warm and sticky with your blood. By the time your vision refocuses, he’s on top of you, knees digging into your side and his knife pressed at your throat. “P-please! I’ll do anything, please don’t kill me!” You manage to choke out, going silent when you feel the blade dig into your flesh as you swallow heavily. He says nothing, just cocks his head to the side.

“Anything?” He repeats and your eyebrows scrunch together for a brief moment; the voice you were hearing now was familiar. It was kind, soft, an edge of something darker to it, but missing the distinct crackle and depth of the voice on the phone. For a second, you wonder if this is a prank that one, or more, of your friends were trying to pull on you. But then he’s pushing the knife closer to you, nicking the thin flesh of your throat, free hand planted by your head. “I knew you were a fucking slut.”

Suddenly the knife is tossed to the side and his gloved hands are wrapping around your throat, cutting off your oxygen. Your hands instantly reach for his wrists, trying to pull him off of you, your eyes widening in fright as his grip doesn't loosen. Inside your chest, your heart beats at your ribs, overcompensating for the lack of oxygen in an attempt to keep your body going. When his grip tightens further, and your eyes feel like they're beginning to bulge out of your head from the pressure, you change tactics.

Your mouth is opening and closing in a desperate, fish-out-of-water way to get air as you begin to punch at his chest. Your actions grow more desperate as the seconds tick by, the only sound you can hear being your own heart beat and his grunts as his thumbs dig into your trachea. The sight of the white mask, the dark all consuming eyes, begins to grow fuzzy as your hands punch and claw at any part of him you can reach. The man behind the robe is not particularly large, but he’s stronger. Couple that with catching you off guard and it was no wonder that you were here, trapped under the mysterious figure, the life being choked out of you.

Clutching at his robes, you stare into the blacks of the mask where the eyes are and you think about Randy coming home and discovering you dead on the floor. You can imagine him dropping to his knees beside you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and shaking you, his hands trembling. Your fingers begin to loosen around the fabric, shaky hands reaching up and clumsily tugging at the mask.

He shakes his head a few times, jerking it out of your touch with an annoyed grunt, his grip loosening every so slightly. You manage to grab a hold of the chin and pull it off, determined to see who was killing you and make them look you in the face, really look you in the face, while they were doing it. Maybe you could somehow manage to leave a clue behind to their identity for-

“R-Randy?” You choke out, voice hoarse and nearly unintelligible. The mask hits the wood floors with a soft thud, his grip tightening as you say his name, but you don’t fight back. You stare up at him, right into his blue eyes.

His hair is tousled, wet with sweat. His pink lips are parted, his chest heaving as he blinks down at you, tanned cheeks flushed pink. “Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that.” Your vision grows blurry again as you realize Randy, your roommate and best friend, the person you had been tracking down Ghostface with, was Ghostface. He was the one killing you.

He lets go of your throat.

“Fuck!” Randy says, grabbing the knife and holding it just above your throat as you gasp and sputter underneath him, eyes squeezed shut. The oxygen burns as you breathe in, coughing, black dots swimming across your vision. You try to blink through the blurriness; you can see the bright pink hue to the apples of his cheeks, a bead of sweat rolling down the bridge of his nose as he narrows his blue eyes at you in accusation. “Why the fuck did you have to do that for?”

It’s almost enough to make you laugh. Here he is, a knife to your throat, and he’s mad at you.

Your mouth opens, cracked lips parting to tell him to go fuck himself, but all that leaves your throat is a choked noise. Pain rips through your esophagus and you flinch, stomach churning at the realization you can’t speak. Your eyes blink back the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks once more as you swallow, looking at Randy.

His eyes are searching your face, and it’s clear to you even now, with the knife against your throat, that you seeing his face had taken the wind out of his sails. He’s nervous, head cocking to the side every few seconds and his jaw rhythmically clenching as he stares down at you.

“Fucking bitch.” Randy finally spits, his face morphing into disgust. “You fuckin’ ruined it all. Nosy cunt, just had to stick your nose into shit that didn’t concern you.” His voice is low, gravelly, and spit collects at the corner of his lips as he speaks. You’ve never heard him speak this way; a crude joke here and there, sure, but never something this vile aimed at you and you alone. “Is this what you wanted, huh? To make this harder for me than it already is?”

His voice cracks and as the fuzz on the edge of your vision begins to go away, you can see a tear slide down his cheek. Randy angrily wipes it off of his face with the back of his gloved hand. Wetting your lips, you brace yourself for the pain. “R-Randy,” you start, voice hoarse and cracking. He’s breathing hard, shoulders heaving with effort, but he remains silent. “...Why?”

It’s the most you can choke out right now and thankfully he decides to answer right after scoffing. “Why?” Randy’s head cocks to the side, searching your face, his knees digging into your ribs. You let out a small whine of discomfort at his weight on top of you. “You were gonna figure it out, you know.” The change in his voice makes you still, eyebrows scrunched together at the softness in his tone, as if he were sad about what he was saying. “I knew you would. I couldn’t let that happen… you’d tell everyone.”

“Wouldn’t… I wouldn’t…” Talking still hurts but lessens as the minutes tick by. “I… I wouldn’t have told anyone.” Randy tsks, shaking his head.

“I’m not an idiot. I know you.”

“Please, please just let me go, Randy.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Fresh tears prick at your eyes, lips thinning slightly as your chin quivers. Randy grunts, averting his gaze for a moment. “Stop looking at me like that.” He says sharply, digging the knife back against your throat. All the blade does is spur your tears on. “Jesus Christ, stop crying!” The knife is pulled away and you suck in a blubbering breath before the crack of his palm meets your cheeks.

You yelp, hand coming to press against the swelling flesh as he leans down, hot breath ghosting against your cheek. “Do you want to live?”

The tone of his voice makes your blood chill. Sharper than the knife in his hand and just as cold. You sniffle, your chest tight as you nod. A small sob escapes your lips and he smiles. “Please don’t kill me, Randy.” Begging seems redundant at this point but you realize there is nothing you can do but try. “Randy, fuck! Fuck, please don’t kill me, I don’t want to die!” You sob, a blubbering fucking mess underneath him.

He tilts his head to the side slightly, an amused smirk on his face. “You wanna know something?” He asks, ignoring your tears and dragging the tip of the knife down your cheeks carefully. “I’ve always imagined you underneath me crying. Knew you’d look pretty.” He sighs softly, wetting his lips, pulling back as his eyes search your fear-stricken face. “Anything?”

“W-What?”

“You said you’d do anything,” he repeats, shifting his weight back, a wild look in his eyes you’ve never fucking seen before. It’s enough to make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and a wave of nausea hit you. “You wanna live that bad?”

Something in your gut tells you to say no, to fight and struggle and to die with some fucking dignity. But it’s Randy. Your best friend, your roommate, the person you trusted more than yourself. An hour ago, you never would have thought he was capable of this. You nod your head once, a tear sliding down your warm cheek as his smile grows more affectionate.

“I knew it.” He says, pulling the knife away from your neck where it had been loosely pressed. He tosses it to the side, the clang as it hits your hardwood floors making you flinch. His gloved hands are suddenly all over you, leaning down and harshly pressing his lips to yours. His teeth smash into yours as you grunt in surprise, his tongue forcing its way in, a parasite finding a host.

You’d be a liar if you said you never thought about kissing Randy before. Of course you did! He was a sweet, funny, goofy guy you had been through terrible tragedy after terrible tragedy with; it was hard to not think of him in that light. You never made a move, and, like always, he didn’t either. You would often lay in bed, eyes closed, knowing Randy was in the next room over, and think about what kissing him would be like.

It’s rougher than you imagined.

Randy moans, pulling back from you to suck in a few harsh breaths, a string of saliva connecting you two. “Fuck,” Randy moans, his voice thick. His blue eyes darken, his lids heavy as he stares down at you. “God, you’re a good kisser, you know that?” His familiar goofy smile spreads across his pink face and you do your best to ignore the flipping of your stomach.

“Y-You are too.” You say as your voice cracks slightly. His smile grows further and you wonder briefly if his cheeks hurt. A wave of disgust washes over you as he brings his gloved hand up from your side to cup your cheek, and you turn your head to the side. “Are… are you done?”

Randy blinks. “Done?” He asks, a laugh bubbling up in his chest. You grunt, face feeling warm in embarrassment and nervousness as his knees dig further into your ribs. “Nah, I’m not done yet.” He finally says, his smile twitching. “I mean, I can get the knife if you’ve decided you’re done…?” He motions to the blade just beside him, watching your eyes lock onto the steel. “If you’re feeling brave, though, you can try and fight me off.”

“What?”

“I said,” he grabs the knife with one hand and your wrist with the other, shoving the handle into your shaking hand. “If you’re feeling brave, try and fight me off.” There’s a light to his eyes you’ve only seen when he talks about his favorite movies, a kind of glee that you had a hard time not teasing him about previously. Now, however, there was nothing fucking funny about it. The knife is heavy in your hand, weighed down by the souls it’s taken already.

Your eyes widen, glistening with unshed tears as you look at him. “I… I don’t want to fight you,” you say shakily. “You’re my friend, Randy.” He scoffs at this, snatching the knife from your loose grip and the mask from beside you. He stands, towering over you, and panic hits you as he goes to put the mask back on.

He was going to kill you unless you convinced him otherwise, and Randy was very stubborn. There were only a few things he loved, and, thankfully, you knew them all.

“W-Wait! I’ll do it!”

“You’ll do what?”

“I’ll… I’ll fight, or whatever. That’s what you want, right?” You ask, staring up at him as he pauses, your heart thudding in your chest. He could put the mask back on and sink the knife into your gut without a single word; you just had to trust he wouldn’t. “Y-you always say the chase is your favorite part.”

Randy cracks a smile. “That’s why I like you,” he says, crouching down beside you. “You always got me. Really got me, in ways the others didn’t.” It’s true, you realize. While Randy was popular and had lots of friends, he had told you time and time again how it seemed like you were the only one who actually heard him. It used to make you feel good.

Now all it does is make you feel sick.

“You must really want to live, don’t you?” He asks, voice dark as he peers down at you. Shakily, you nod, swallowing down the bile that steadily felt like it was crawling up your throat. Randy grins as his eyebrows raise, tucking under the wet strands of hair sticking to his forehead still. “Alright, fuck it. I’ll chase you and you can try and escape. You make it out the front door, and you can live. You can run off to the cops and tell them everything. But,” his grin sharpens. “If I catch you… I get to do whatever I want to you.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Depends on how worked up you get me.” Randy smiles, wetting his bottom lip as his eyes trail down your figure beside him, still frozen on the floor. The heat behind his gaze makes your skin crawl and your gut swirl, the two sensations twisting and turning inside you. “I’ll probably do something else first, though.”

Randy’s hand reaches out, grabbing at your tit through your pajama top. His grip is rough as he squeezes the fat between his fingers, letting out a growl-like moan at the feeling. You let out a shudder, turning your head to the side as you squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips together. He huffs, letting go of your breast and grabbing ahold of your chin, forcing you to look back up at him with a scowl.

“Get up. I’m giving you five seconds, and if I catch you, I’m fucking you until I decide to kill you.”

His voice is void of all emotion, roughly letting go of your chin as he stands, and his words make you scramble upwards onto your feet. You stumble down the hallway, mind reeling as you try to think of what to do.

“1…2…” The back door is too far. Randy was quick on his feet, he’d reach you before you got the deadbolt undone.

“3…4…” Randy tugs on the mask, voice muffled as he counts. The knife is held tightly in his hand, robe loose at his ankles. Your only option is upstairs. The steps are just to your right and you sprint towards them, feet hammering heavily against the wood as you hurry up them. You could lock yourself in your room, or maybe get to the attic with enough time to pull the door down.

“5… Ready or not,” Randy watches your figure disappear up the steps, a wild grin on his face under the mask as he starts after you, thundering up the steps two at a time. He uses his free hand to click the modulator on again. “Here I come, bitch.”

You’re at the landing, turning down the hall to sprint to your room, when you see the ghostly white mask staring up at you. Randy swipes the knife at your feet as he stomps up the steps and you narrowly avoid it, letting out a yelp as you haul ass. Slamming the door shut behind you and locking it, you look around for anything that could help.

He’s at the door in seconds, his fist banging against the wood as you run to the opposite side of your dresser, grunting with effort as you try to push it in front of the door before he can break through. “Let me in, you fucking cunt!” He snarls, now throwing his body against the door. He’s growling with each hit, the sound of splintering wood making your palms slick with sweat. “I just wanna see what your insides look like!”

The dresser scrapes against the grain of the floor, ignoring the pleas and curses spilling from your lips faster than you can think. After an agonizing few seconds, you manage to get the dresser in front of the door just as Randy begins to break through. You scream, stumbling backwards as his hand, holding the knife, pushes in through the split in the door he caused.

The knife swings wildly, blade glinting in the light of your lamp. His arm retreats and he’s back to slamming his body weight against it, the dresser loudly scooting further from the door each time. Your time was running out. In a few seconds he’d be in here with you and that would be it.

You rush to your desk on the other side of the room, throwing things off as you search for something, anything, to protect yourself with. The sounds of Randy forcing his way in grow muffled, like you’re underwater. Your hands wrap around the metal scissors as he finally breaks in, and you turn around, wielding them in front of you with shaky hands.

“Look at this.” He steps inside the room, standing with the knife in front of him. His shoulders are heaving with each breath he sucks in, and though he wears the mask, you can almost see the grin he’s giving you. “I didn’t think you’d get this far, if I’m being honest.” He steps forwards and to the right, hugging the wall as you side step him, keeping yourself at the same distance away, moving to the left. The two of you slowly, carefully, circle the rug. “I mean, you’re smarter than most girls, but I figured you’d be a pretty easy kill.”

“Fuck you!”

“There’s that fire!”

“This isn’t a fucking joke!” You snap, eyes narrowing in anger. The room is thick with tension, a standoff between a fawn and a wolf. You tighten your grip on the scissors, jaw clenching at the slickness of your palms. Your hearts beating against your ribcage, your stomachs in your ass, and yet, even with the thick sludge of fear that is coursing through your veins and weighing you down, there’s another feeling. It’s deep in your stomach, buried under the rubble, but it’s there.

Lust.

Randy laughs, head cocking to the side as he continues to move, slowly, carefully. Each movement he makes is calculated, directly reflecting your own. You wish he didn’t have the mask on, that he’d stop being a fucking coward and let you see the extent of his enjoyment for torturing you. “I know it’s not a joke, Y/N. I’m taking this very seriously.”

He lunges forwards slightly, knife shallowly stabbing into your gut. You yelp and stumble backwards, hitting into the wooden post of your bed frame as you clutch at your side, watching the blood soak into the fabric of your pajama top. For a few moments, all you can feel is heat. You had never been stabbed before, but you had imagined it to play out like the movies. Instead, the piercing pain comes in quickly, and you let out an involuntary shudder as your free hand presses into the wound. All you want to do is drop to the floor with a whimper, the edges of your vision riddled with dancing black dots, and beg Randy to leave you alone.

Instead, biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood, you ignore the pain rippling through your side as he laughs. He returns to his place near the wall. The two of you are still circling slowly, one foot after the other, unable to take your eyes off of him for a second.

He could have brought the knife to your other side in a second flat, gutting you. You can almost imagine him standing over your body as you desperately try to hold your organs inside your belly, warm thick blood oozing from the wound in buckets, soaking into the rug Randy had helped you pick out before you collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood. Why hadn’t he?

“Doesn’t this just get your fuckin’ heart racing?” He asks, the scratchy tone of the modulator making you swallow hard. “Not knowing if your next step is your last, if you’ll even make it out of this fucking room…it’s exciting!” You continue your carefully placed steps, your back now to the door. The dresser was still in front of it, but if you got an extra few seconds, you could squeeze through the gap between the wall and dresser and make your way out into the hall.

If you could do that, you could make it down the steps and to the front door before Randy made it to the landing. Your car keys were right next to the door where you always left them; you could do it. You had to do it. You had to do anything you fucking could to get out of here. The other option was dying.

Randy turns his head to look behind him and you take the brief opportunity to lunge forwards, squeezing your eyes shut as you sink the scissors into his shoulder. You cut through robes, shirt, and flesh. As the blade makes a sickening squelch noise, you expect him to scream, collapse to the ground or stumble back like the villains always do in those shitty movies he likes.

Your eyes widen and you take a shaky step backwards, scissors stuck in his shoulder as he whips his head around to face you, a low growl emanating from under the mask. His gloved fingers wrap around the metal handles, yanking it out with a hiss. The steel is covered in dark red blood. It drips onto the carpet opposite of the puddle of your own blood that was growing underneath you. The robe where the stab wound was is sunken into the cut, the fabric bunching together and fraying into the wound.

“You forgetting something, Y/N?” He questions sinisterly, gingerly holding the scissors in his hand. He swings them side to side, taunting you. “Did you seriously think a little stab would stop me? You think none of the others put up a fight like this?” He scoffs, his anger at you clear even through the modulator. “You all think you’re the exception, that you’re the final girl. Well guess fucking what? You’re not… and I think you want me to catch you.”

“I don’t!”

“No?” He taunts, cocking his head to the side. You wonder if, under the mask, his lips are squeezed into a thin line with a furrow to his brows. That was the face Randy always had when he was pissed. You take a step backwards towards the door. “So you’re really trying? You ran up the steps. You let me in your room. You gave me your fucking scissors! Just admit that you want me to fuck you, even if I gut your ass after.” The excitement in his voice has your heart sink.

This wasn’t Randy anymore; this was Ghostface.

Realizing there’s nothing you can do here to save yourself, you make a mad dash for the door. Squeezing yourself between the dresser and wall, you watch as Randy walks over to you, tossing the scissors behind him as his grip tightens around the knife. You’re halfway there, your hands flat against the dresser as you shove it forwards an inch to allow you to squeeze through, when Randy rears his foot back and kicks it.

“FUCK!” You scream as the dresser is violently forced into the door and you, slamming you back into the wall. Your ankle is bent uncomfortably, your leg turned outward and stuck at the bottom of the dresser. Randy lifts his foot once more. “Wait, no, don’t-” you plead, your heart hammering in your chest as you continue to move, nearly out of the room. He ignores you, his foot planting on the edge of the dresser as he kicks it forwards. Your foot is the last thing in the doorframe.

The pain is blinding. Your vision goes white as a fiery warmth crawls up your leg. As your vision returns, so does your hearing; you were letting out a blood curdling scream, your throat raw, and your free leg gives out on you. You collapse backwards, sobbing as Randy grabs the dresser and yanks it back, freeing your foot.

Looking down, groaning in pain, you try to move your ankle. There’s resistance and an electrical shock shoots up to your knee. Not broken, but there’s clearly something wrong with it. You try and move it again, grunting as you press your foot flat to the ground, attempting to stand. The pain is too much. Fuck. If you can’t move it, you can’t walk on it, let alone run. You look up and see Randy standing in the doorway of your room, your dresser overturned behind him and your door half hung on its hinges. He cocks his head to the side and then takes a step forwards.

You scramble away as best you can, using your hands to push yourself towards the stairs. You can’t catch your breath, your pain and fear mixing together and suffocating you as you try desperately to breathe. Pain erupts from your ankle and your side, the involuntary noises you were making as you crawl away from your best friend making you sound like a wounded animal.

His footsteps are slow, taunting, consistent. Step… step… step. You keep your head up and forwards, eyes glued on the steps, your only possible solace. He allows you to make it to the top of the landing before he’s on you again, grabbing your shoulder and turning you over onto your back. “No! Get off of me, Randy!” You say, punching at his chest and squirming as he straddles you. He huffs from under the mask, grabbing at your wrists and pinning them to your chest with one hand, waving the knife over your face with the other.

“Ah, ah,” he coos as you fall still, still blubbering. “You’ve really entertained me tonight, Y/N, you know that?” The tip of the knife is pressed to your cheek, digging into your flesh until a small bead of blood bubbles up. You whimper, chin quivering. “You’ve really got the spirit of a final girl. I’m almost sad I have to kill you now.”

He brings the knife up, clutching it in two hands.

“Wait!” You cry out, using your free hands to cover your face. Your brain is scrambled, your heart is pounding, and everything hurts, but there's only one thought in your head. I don’t want to die. “I-I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

If he notices the fear and desperation in your voice, he doesn’t mention it. Randy goes still above you, knees digging into your sides, inadvertently pressing into your wound. “What?” He asks, and the incredulous tone that seeps through the modulator is almost enough to make you laugh.

“You… you said you’d fuck me.” You repeat, voice cracking. Disgust washes over you in droves, nearly choking away your next words. “I want you to.” Your eyebrows crease together as you swallow down the bile rising in your throat. He says nothing, the knife coming down to his side as he stares at you. You can just barely make out the glint of his eyes through the mesh.

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is quieter, less sharp.

“I’m not.” You reaffirm, staring up at him, trying to keep your face straight. Shakily, you reach your hand up, hesitating as your fingertips brush against the latex of the mask, half expecting him to lash out and plunge the knife into your head. Randy’s breathing is ragged, but he doesn’t move.

Carefully gripping the material, you move the mask off of him, a far cry from how you had done it just a few minutes before. Randy’s face is sweatier now, redness expanding across his freckled cheeks to the tips of his ears. His eyes dart away from yours and he swallows hard, his adams apple bobbing. He almost looked nervous, which, all things considered, is funny.

A smile twitches at your lips despite it all. “I’ve always had a crush on you.” You say quietly, feeling your own face grow warm. Your pain has dulled into a throbbing and hot heat. Your ankle feels like sand, too heavy to move. Your side is still burning, ripples of pain traveling up your ribcage as you move your arms. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance.

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it.”

“I don’t believe you.” He says, watching you drop the mask onto the ground beside the two of you. “You just don’t want to die.”

You sigh slightly. “I don’t want to die.” You say, eyes flicking between his, watching them lighten ever so slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m lying about this. If I have to die… might as well get the truth out there, right?” You try and force a laugh, squirming uncomfortably before hissing in pain.

“You… really? On me?” He questions, wetting his cracked lips when you nod in confirmation. There’s a beat as he studies your face, trying to determine if you were lying, if he was a fucking idiot to believe a word out of your mouth. “I have to kill you.” He says finally, voice quiet. “You’ve seen my face. You’ll tell.”

“I know.” You confirm quietly. You’ve gone completely still by now, the adrenaline and fight rushing from your body in an instant. Tears prick at your eyes again and you turn your head to the side, staring at your broken bedroom door. Briefly, you wonder how expensive it’ll be to fix it. You bite back the unamused laugh that bubbles up in your throat at the realization it doesn’t matter; you won’t be the one paying to fix it after you die. “I just don’t want the last thing I remember about you to be… to be this.”

Randy doesn’t say a word, but you can feel his eyes glued on you. “I wanted it to be different.” He finally says, breaking the thin silence that had settled between you two. When you look back up at him, his eyebrows are threaded together. “Always thought it would be, you know… romantic.” Randy almost looks shy above you, like he was caught shoving a love note into your locker instead of a knife into your throat. “You really want to?”

You nod. It was true, in some strange way. Maybe it’s from the concussion he had surely given you when he smashed your head into the floor downstairs, or maybe it was from the shock slowly overtaking your body from your stab wound and fucked up ankle, or maybe you were, deep down, just as fucked up as Randy. You weren’t sure of the reason, but you were sure of the fact that you wanted him. Swallowing heavily, you nod again, more confident. “I do.”

He hesitates for only a moment, his eyes flashing with the uncertainty you had come to know and love. But you watch him take in your disheveled appearance, his eyes darkening, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Take your shirt off.” He orders you quietly, and you listen without thinking. Randy wets his lips again as you awkwardly pull your top off, hissing as the fabric peels away from the wound. Your side is covered in blood, and you have to turn your head away as blood pulses out, covering the wooden floor underneath you.

You toss it to the side, shivering at the cold wood underneath your exposed skin. His hand comes and cups your breast carefully, gloved thumb running over the thin fabric separating him from your nipple. He hums as he sees it harden, the corner of his thin lips twitching upwards as he repeats the motion again. You sigh, your body relaxing under his touch, your eyes closing as you focus on the feeling and not the circumstances that led you here.

“I love your tits,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, his grip tightening as he squeezes. “God, the amount of times I’ve jerked off thinking about them, about you…” Randy lets out a small, breathless laugh. You whimper, squirming underneath him and wincing at the ripple of pain. You do your best to ignore it. He tosses the knife to the side, dipping down and kissing you hungrily, pressing his chest to yours.

He wanted to kiss you hard enough to fuse together, to become a blob of unrecognizable mass writhing in pleasure. You kiss back this time and he groans, his tongue pushing its way past your lips, sliding over yours. “Randy,” you say breathlessly, shuddering when he pulls your bra up past your tits, freeing them before you feel the cool leather envelop your flesh. His right hand is slick with blood, a mix of yours and his, smearing it across your flesh. You squirm under him again, pushing upwards against his crotch, pulling a grunt from him.

“You really want it bad, don’t you?” He questions hurriedly against the flesh of your neck as he nips at your pulse. “I bet I don’t even have to touch you and you’d find a way to cum, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I fuckin’ bet. But it wouldn’t be enough, would it?” His words send a shiver down your spine, your head swimming as his nose brushes along your neck up to your ear, his breath warm. “I can hear you when you fuck yourself at night, y’know? When you think I’m asleep, and you let yourself get a little louder, a bit more brave.”

“R-Really?”

“Mhm. Hearing your little whimpers, the sound of you cumming…” He lets out a low groan, pulling back as he works on shifting his weight, tugging your pajama pants and underwear down to your knees. “Let me see her,” he mutters, mostly to himself, as he pushes your knees apart. He ignores your hiss of pain as his pupils enlarge, eyes trained on your now spread cunt. You can feel your face grow warm. “Holy shit. Look at you.”

Randy reaches a gloved hand out, carefully dragging a finger up your slit. You swallow back a whimper at the feeling, your eyes widening when he holds the finger up to show you your wetness. You shouldn’t be wet right now. Waves of disgust recede briefly only to crash back over you, time and time again, drowning you. “Look at this… fuck, I didn’t know you’d get off on this too.”

His smile is large, stretched across his skin to the point it looks like it hurts. He dips his head down, hands on your thighs, nose hovering above your pussy, and he breathes in deep. He moans - whimpers - and wastes no time, his pink lips wrapping around your clit and sucking.

“R-Randy!” You moan, your thighs attempting to close around his head. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, holding you open for him. “Oh shit,” you groan, your eyes squeezing shut as you do your best to focus on the quick-building pleasure in your gut rather than the ever-persistent pain in your side as your body involuntarily moves against his tongue.

Randy moans against you, letting go of your clit in favor of flicking his tongue back and forth along your slit, tasting as much of you as he can. “So fuckin’ good baby,” he mutters, his nose bumping along your clit as he pushes his tongue in your hole. It makes you gasp sharply and he hums, eyes opening to look up at you through heavy lids. He wasn’t lying when he told you he thought about this moment a lot, late at night in bed, hand wrapped around his cock. “Tell me you like it.”

His voice is muffled by your cunt and you don’t register it, your mind reeling with your situation as your orgasm steadily began to build. It hung heavy in your gut, growing thicker and bigger with each passing second, with each flick of his tongue and bump of his nose. Your pussy hurt, throbbing with need, desperate for release. And then, finally, you’re right there, toes beginning to curl, dots of color dancing in the dark of your closed eyes, when he stops. “What the fuck?”

He snorts at your meak and confused protest. You force your eyes to open, chest heaving, and involuntarily you glance down at the puddle of blood under you. It’s only grown, and the realization nearly takes the wind out of you. You felt tired, cold, exhausted.

“I told you to tell me you like it.”

“I-I didn’t hear you.”

“I know. Too caught up in how good I was making your pussy feel, right?’ He asks, voice soothing. “Couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to hate it.” You look up at him and he smiles, the corner of his lips curling upward. “Dirty fuckin’ bitch, huh? Is that what you are, Y/N?”

You shake your head and he laughs. “I’m not.” You say, trying to have any ounce of conviction in your tone, but it only serves to amuse him further. His stupid shit-eating grin makes a flash of anger course through you. “I’m not.” You say again, nostrils flaring. Your fight dies down as his smile drops and his eyebrows stitch together in annoyance.

“No?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. Without breaking eye contact, his left hand moves from your thigh to your pussy, pressing against your clit to an almost painful degree. The pressure makes you jolt, a groan being pulled from your lips. “You’re not getting off on how much I’ve hurt you?” Randy questions casually, taking his fingers and moving them down to your pulsing hole.

Whimpering as you feel him prod at your opening, you simply squeeze your eyes shut in response. You wouldn’t give him the fucking satisfaction. He’s not deterred by your stubbornness; he’s been friends with you long enough to know that it was all a facade, a way to keep control when you had none. It was one of his favorite things about you.

“You might not like it,” he says, humming as he begins to press the leather-clad finger into your cunt. You hiss at the slight stretch, face screwing up at the strange sensation of the leather sliding along your walls. There’s only a brief second of resistance before your body lets him continue. “But she sure does.” He purrs, breath hot against your bare thigh as he begins to pump his finger inside you. “Let me right in, didn’t she? Imagine how she’s gonna react when I finally give you my cock.”

You whimper; it’s involuntary, an accident, maybe not even from pleasure, but it doesn’t matter. The noise is encouragement, a golden stamp of approval, for Randy. His finger picks up speed as you cream around the digit, the sound of your wetness increasing with each pump. Another finger is pushed in and you whimper. “O-ow!” You whine at the stretch.

“Shut up,” he hisses, his blue eyes narrowing. “You think my cocks not gonna hurt when I fuckin’ shove it in here?” He follows his question with a third finger, the added stretch of the leather sending a shiver up your spine. You suck in a breath, shuddering with each pump, your own arousal loud enough for you to hear it. “You should see your fuckin’ pussy right now, baby, I mean… fuuuck. Creaming around my fucking fingers. Your clit’s throbbing; bet that hurts, doesn’t it? It’s all achey, desperate for me to touch it?”

You don’t want to answer his mocking words. A part of you is screaming at you to do something and get the fuck out of there, to get his hands out and off of you, to hold onto some of your dignity before your death. It’s not loud enough. “Y-yes!” You grunt, your eyebrows threaded together. “It hurts, Ray, fuck, j-just, please!” Your voice is whiny, cracking in the middle of your begging, your hips trying to push forwards in a desperate attempt for friction. “I’ll cum, I swear to god I will!”

He hums, his fingers curling inside you. The pleasure, while good, spreading throughout your whole body, isn’t enough. “You’re tellin’ me if I touch your clit you’ll cum?” Randy asks, amusement clear in his voice. You nod desperately, meeting his eyes. His cheeks are tinged pink with exertion, a hungry look in his eyes. He leans forwards, eyes flicking down to your clit, and you expect him to flick his tongue against the throbbing bud or suck it into his mouth.

Instead, he lets out a small breath, the cool air focused on your clit, and you cum.

“There you go, baby,” he says, watching you with a lopsided grin as your body shakes, legs attempting to close around his shoulders, pussy clenching rhythmically around his fingers. A low groan slips past your parted lips, ending in a pained whimper as the pleasure ebbs away, making way for the ache in your side. “God, I knew you were gonna look beautiful cumming.”

His voice is soft, sweet. In another world, he would have said that to you in your bed, the two of you surrounded by plush pillows and warm blankets instead of blood. You blink a few times, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, a warm tear slipping down your face to your ear. You sniffle as you feel him move from between your legs, pulling his fingers out slowly. He presses them to your lips and you don’t need him to tell you what to do.

Your mouth parts, your eyes closing as he presses his fingers past your lips. “Fuck.” He breathes as your face screws up slightly at the metallic taste that accompanied your own arousal, remembering how your blood had covered the leather before he began touching you. “Almost done sweetheart, I promise.” He murmurs, sliding his digits over your tongue, pressing down a bit before pulling them out.

You watch as he bunches the fabric of the robe into his hand, pulling it up enough to reveal his jeans, his cock pressing against the fabric. His free hands fumbles with the button for a moment before he huffs, his face growing a darker shade of red in embarrassment as he drops the robe, using both hands to unbutton and shove his jeans down.

“God, maybe I’ll make you take my cock in your ass.” He says, groaning as he wraps his blood-and-cum-covered hand around his cock. He strokes himself once before pausing and spitting into his gloved palm, looking down at you, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he watches a ripple of fear go through you. “Never had one there, have you?” He shakes his head, answering his own question. “Nah, too respectable, aren’t you? You’re not a slut when you bring home another fucking douchebag. You just let ‘em fuck your mouth a bit and then your pussy, right?”

“Randy-”

“No.” He snaps, his face screwing up into a snarl. “Just shut the fuck up, alright? For years I’ve been sitting by, watching asshole after asshole get to touch you, get to flirt and kiss and fuck you. And I sat back like a good friend, like a fucking gentlemen, cleaning up their fucking mess with no reward.” He moans, his hips bucking forwards into his hand. A bead of sweat rolls down his nose, dripping onto the robe. “Fuck that. I might as well have my fun.”

Leaning forwards, he smashes his mouth against yours. He ignores your whimper of pain, the tears that had steadily built up and fallen during his rant. His tongue forces its way past your lips and Randy moans at the feeling of you kissing back. At this point, it didn’t matter to him if you really were enjoying it; what mattered was that he was able to be with you in the way he’s been dreaming of since you had met.

With one of his hands, he lines his cock up to your entrance, swiping the leaking and swollen tip through your folds as he pulls away from your mouth to straighten up. The both of you let out a noise of pleasure, and he grins, pleased at your lack of fight. It was fun during the chase, but now he was fulfilling a fantasy. “Ready?” He asks, pressing his hips forwards a bit, prodding at your opening. You feel so fucking warm against him that he shudders, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to stop from cumming then and there.

You’re not. You are, actually, but you don’t want to admit it. Sniffling, you shake your head quickly. “N-not yet,” you say, watching his expression soften as he meets your eyes. He bends down again, his pink lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw. His other hand runs along your side, goosebumps raising on the exposed skin in his wake.

Your eyes close and you imagine yourself in bed with him, comfortable and safe. The warmth underneath you is no longer your own blood, but the heated blanket you had for the winter. The metallic smell a candle, the robe tickling your bare stomach a blanket. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He murmurs against your cheek, tilting his head back to look at your face. There's a dazed look in your eyes, but when you nod again in confirmation, he grins. “Good girl,” Randy says as he begins to push inside you. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” He dips his head down to kiss you as he pushes past your body's natural resistance, moaning hot into your mouth just as you did. “H-holy fuck!” Randy shudders, his voice cracking as he bottoms out. “S-so fucking tight, and warm, fuck!”

His cock is thicker than any of the guys’ you’ve been with before, stretching and filling you up with every inch he pushes in. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your head burying into his shoulder. Your side throbs with pain, but you’re able to ignore it and the blood still spilling from the wound, your head growing cloudy. Part of it you can blame on blood loss, on survival, on instinct. The rest of it is purely you. “Fuck, Randy! O-oh my god!” You gasp as he pulls out, the tip of his cock the only thing left in your cunt until he shoves every inch back inside.

Your fingers scramble to grab at his shoulders as he pistons his cock in and out of you when you accidentally dig your finger into his stab wound. “Fuck!” He yells, his movements stalling, and you remove your hand instantly, your heart nearly stopping in fear. Your apologies come quick, nearly incoherent, but he shuts you up with a grin. “Fuck, do that again.” He says, his hips moving again.

“W-what?”

“Do it again.” Randy repeats, a glimmer in his eye as he grabs your hand, his fingers awkwardly pressing yours into his wound. You grimace at the feeling of your fingertip pressing into the warm and bloody hole. He grunts in pain, his face screwing up into a grimace, but he doesn’t let you pull away and his hips dont stop fucking into you. “F-fuck. Oh god, your pussy is so fucking good.” He moans, pressing your finger in deeper, to the first knuckle. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You like this don’t you?”

Randy grunts, keeping his eyes trained on you, before he pushes your finger into the wound further. The hole is warm and you can feel the flesh throb around your finger. His cock is throbbing inside you, and you’re not sure how much is from your cunt and how much so from this. He yelps in pain again, finally letting your hand go.

It drops back to your chest as his thrusts speed up, his free hand coming down to rub at your clit. “Oh, shit!” You moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Randy, oh my god, I-I’m so fucking close!” Your whimpers only spur him on, his thrusts bordering on painful as his hips snap against your own. Your ankle is still throbbing but you can move it with only a brief moment of sharp pain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N,” Randy whines, his voice cracking in pleasure. “Been dreaming, shit! Been dreaming of fucking you, god damn, and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.” His head tilts back slightly, eyes closing as his hips begin to sputter. “Come on, cum on my fucking cock, alright? Be a good girl for me, don’t hold back, alright? I want it, fuuuuuck, please? Please let me feel you cum on my dick, Y/N. Don’t you wanna cum one last time, baby?”

His words cut through you in an instant. A choked whimper is all you can manage as you cum, tightening around him and making him shudder. His thrusts are so fucking sloppy now, his mouth hung open and panting, drool building at the corner of his mouth. He hurriedly thanks you, telling you how good your fucking pussy feels, how he’s going to cum inside you and make sure you feel how much he loves it. You can’t focus on anything other than the words ringing in your ears.

“Don’t you wanna cum one last time, baby?”

He was going to kill you. You knew that; he told you as much. A naive part of you thought that maybe, somehow, he’d fuck you and then decide to let you go.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” Randy says, his cock throbbing with each thrust. His face is screwed up in concentration, hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside you, Y/N!”

You bring your hand up and dig your thumb into his shoulder as far as it can go.

Randy screams in pain, falling backwards in an attempt to get away from you. You follow him, hovering above him on your knees as he thrashes under you, ignoring your own pain. “FUCK!” He screams, finally shoving you backwards away from him. He sobs, his hand clutching his shoulder, heat traveling up and down his arm. “You stupid fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

You don’t waste any time. You’re not even thinking anymore, your body taking over to save itself. You shove your pants and underwear back up, tugging your bra back down over your tits as you stumble to the steps. The sharp pain in your ankle is back tenfold, nearly blinding you, but the sound of Randy struggling to his feet keeps you going.

Clutching the handrail, you drag your body down to the steps. You’re sweating, cold and hot all at once, the wound on your side steadily dripping blood down your thigh. “Get the fuck back here!” He’s at the top of the steps as you reach the bottom, hauling ass to the front door.

Everything hurts. You aren’t sure if you’re even breathing as you struggle down the hallway, grabbing onto the wall to drag your body to safety. Every step you take knocks the fucking wind out of you, spots in your vision, but the adrenaline is keeping you going. You had a chance and your body knew it.

Randy is thundering down the steps, his cock straining against his unbuttoned jeans. Not only had you hurt him, you had denied him the one thing he wanted from you. “You fucking bitch,” he screams, spit flying from his lips. He reaches the bottom of the steps and turns, watching as you reach the front door, grabbing your keys from the dish. You look backwards and spot him, knife in hand, his teeth gnashing in annoyance. “I’ll fucking gut you for this.” He shouts as you unlock the door and stumble outside and off the porch, straight into the arms of campus police.

“Jesus!” The uniformed man grunts, catching you in his arms. “Are you alright, miss? We got calls about some screams.” He peers down at you, moving his hand and seeing it covered in your blood. He curses, grabbing his walkie talkie and calling for backup. You’re sobbing still, heart thumping and beating at your ribs, shivering against him. It was cold, and the heat from your wound only seemed to spread when Randy was on top of you. “Miss,” he says, repeating it a few times until you finally lift your head to look at him. “A few more officers are coming out to help, but I need to know what happened, okay? Who did this to you?”

You turn to look back at your house, staring through the opened living room door. Nothing. Randy was gone. You can see the open back door further down the lit hall, the breeze making the drawn shade move gently. He was gone, but he’d be back. You turn to look back at the cop, your breathing uneven, and you blink.

“Ghostface.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream franchise #ghostface x reader #randy meeks #randy meeks x reader #randy meeks x y/n #ghostface x y/n #scream 2 #scream 1996 #scream 1997 #im sensitive so be careful with how u proceed towards me ..... HEHEHW #love nasty fucked up evil randy

125 notes · View notes