#the ghost face x black!reader

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DANNY "JED OLSEN" JOHNSON | THE GHOST FACE (dead by daylight)

—

“Try Not to Scream” (Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | The Ghost Face x Fem!Reader)

| After you’ve been with Danny for a little while, the instance of him kidnapping you and revealing who he really was behind you but not forgotten, he decides it’s high time he start desensitizing you to what it is he does.

| NSFW, canon typical violence, murder, mature themes, moral dilemma, the reader-insert has in braids (TW: general sadism, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship) -dark!reader & goth!reader

| This fic is a continuation of sorts to the “Jed Olsen” section in this imagine post. This also doesn’t take place in the Entity’s realm. (Pic source: DbD promotional material)

| 2k+ words

EXTRA HC: The justification I’m operating on, in regards to Danny sparing anyone and/or genuinely “dating” anyone, is that Danny has to see some sense of kinship in the other person. A sense that you’re not lying to yourself like everyone else but him about your darkness, and seeing the potential for murder in you. Then he’ll allow for a little partnership action.

“Stop trembling.”

You flinch.

That low timbre travels through all the nerve endings in your spine like an electric shock, jolting you ram-rod straight out of your curled up position close as you could get to the door of his new school vehicle.

In spite of his talking to you your lips remain sealed in a thin line as you glower out the window. At the bottom level of an otherwise uninhibited parking tower where Danny figured you could make the least trouble. Staring at nothing but white lines on the asphalt lit sparsely by dull yellowing lights.

Even now his voice still has heat pooling in your gut that makes you want to grind your teeth into a fine alabaster powder. The less pleasant queasy feeling in your stomach that accompanies that warmth isn’t much consolation.

Jed— Danny was full of possibilities, and not one of them was conventional or safe.

Really the only ‘good’ thing about tonight was that he wouldn’t have time to keep all his focus on you, to weigh you down with the force of it, because he had a target he planned on killing tonight and an op-ed that would need finishing right after.

Horrible though it may be, you’re glad you're not the center of his obsession right now. Pierce, his newest victim since you guys settled into town that he’s been dragging you along to watch for weeks, firmly held that position in your stead tonight.

He clears his throat. Reluctantly, you turn your head to watch him.

Cracking his knuckles, Danny gives you a long look, full brows furrowed. You give the thicket above his eyes more attention than you do the dark orbs themselves.

“Don’t do anything dumb, yeah?” he says. He doesn’t wait for your response or stick around to try hammering in his point more, however, twitching fingers a clear sign of his being more eager for carnage than any type of lecturing.

He slips on the mask right before he leaves the car; the rest of him decked out only in civvies and hunting boots. The ghost mask is one you’ve gotten plenty familiar with in the past. Vividly, you can remember the sight of that mask hunting you down and then directly in your face as the news dubbed “Ghost Face” slit your then boyfriend’s throat and christened you in his spray of blood before Danny had done you the disservice of sparing your life.

It's hard to look away as your ex(?) makes his way from the car with the hood of his black hoodie up, leaving you sitting pretty and still struggling to hold back your trembling in the passenger seat. Left to do nothing but watch.

Or to call the cops once your sense finally daigns to come back to you.

He had seemed so certain last night that you wouldn’t, and you hate that you even have to wonder whether you’ll prove him right or if you’ll finally buck up, reactivate your stalling-like-shit morality, and call the cops on his pasty ass right now regardless of your general distrust of the police.

As Danny waltzes without a hitch across the parking lot to where Pierce’s car is bracketed by two thick concrete pillars on either side at the back corner of the lot, though, no part of you moves towards Danny’s burner phone where it rests in the cup holder beside you like a taunt.

Or an opportunity.

Your painted nails tap against the button to turn the window down, a light rhythmic clicking sounding through the silent car while your eyes stay transfixed to Danny. Danny, who might as well be invisible as he closes in on the car without incident just as Pierce is ducking down to get in.

The transition after that is well timed and impressive enough that your eyebrows raise in place of where you should be screaming your head off.

Heedless of good citizenship, your lips stay stubbornly shut as you watch Danny wait until the exact moment Pierce — still unaware of where the seasoned killer is crouched out of immediate sight by the passenger door — closes the driver’s door shut behind him to open the muscular man’s passenger door and slip inside like he belongs there too.

When your window slips down a crack you don’t even bother acting surprised, you just stop moving, hold your breath, and listen.

In the immediate seconds after Danny enters Pierce startles, his face contorting in disbelief, and then he has a knife through his sternum from one blink to the next.

A muffled scream, high and panicked and quickly cutoff, meets your ears for hardly a second before silence descends around you once again.

His expressions look stilted as they come to him, like he’s lagging, but Danny doesn’t give him the chance to do much but emote as his next three stabs come in quick succession.

Sternum, the joint of his shoulder when he tries to sit up better, somewhere besides his Adam's apple, his damn cheek; all leading up to the final blow where Danny’s blade glints against the lighting in the sports car before being buried to the hilt in Pierce’s eyeball.

Blood flies everywhere.

Danny’s just pushing out of the passenger’s seat to get more leverage, knocking the bottom of the hilt with the heel of his palm so that the knife goes even farther in, when the automated lights go out and plunge the inside of Pierce’s car into darkness.

This time you don’t hear anything.

Not a stray beep of the horn or the drag of soaked fingers over tempered class or a squeak from the slightly rocking cars’ joints.

Not even when the flash of his camera gives you a few seconds of discombobulating previews of the carnage he’s created does the silence break.

Nothing.

Not until Danny’s slipping back out of the car and closing the passenger door with a hardly notable click. In that brief moment the lights kick back on and the scene that greets you is even bloodier than when you saw it last.

Blood managed to spray a dripping arch in front of the driver’s seat window, the skin around Pierce’s eye socket protrudes as if a tiny bomb had been planted in it, and his eyeball dangles precariously from his head by whatever tendon lies behind it.

His throat is slit now too, not just stabbed. One continuous perforated mess that’s compromised the structural integrity of the muscled man’s neck so badly his head, where it’s trying its best to slip over the side of the headrest he’s propped up against, has slipped back far enough it creates the illusion of a gaping cavernous maw below his chin. Crimson and gurgling. Like he gave one last wide grin as he met his death.

You can barely imagine the amount of blood you’d be able to see up close…or the sheer force of how it would all smell. It makes your stomach clench and by the time the lights have shut back off and Danny’s easing behind the wheel beside you your eyes burn too.

Contrary to the mild sample you get of what the inside of Pierce’s car smells like, he's covered in less blood than you had expected him to be. Instead of that striking you with fear all you can think about is how much of a Danny Thing that is to manage.

Of course he’d fucking kill like he’s afraid of increasing his dry cleaning bill even when he’d been so hyped up he was trembling on the drive over; there was control behind all that strange unconventional bravado of his.

He slips off his mask.

All but a single dark smear across the stark white of the masked forehead bears no sign of his misdeeds.

“Don’t faint.”

That’s what he leads with.

No questioning the security of the contents of your stomach or how red your eyes have gotten. He just jumps directly back into conversation like you didn’t just witness him kill a man.

It unfreezes you though, and with a gasp of breath you’re talking before you can fully check yourself, “That doesn’t sound like a ‘me’ issue.”

“Oh?” Danny chuckles darkly. “I can make it a personal issue for you after the fact, I assure you.” He raises his brows in question, the quirk of his lips sharp, and you can’t help the way your saliva turns bitter in the face of it.

At your lack of comeback he lets himself pull out the camera in his pocket. That too is streaked only minimally crimson.

When it slips up and he points it at your face you’re not fast enough to give him your back. You’re gazing directly at him and probably looking utterly enamored in your shock.

The murderer — the man who seems utterly determined to drag you against your will across the country with him — heeding no mind to your displeasure, takes a few more shots before you catch yourself and shift out of the light shining in through the windshield.

Pictures already taken, though, Danny doesn’t bother with you, already flipping his camera around.

“Nice,” he murmurs, clicking through the photos. He glances up at you then, winks. “I think these might be better than the pictures I took with you the night we met.”

You're speaking before you can talk yourself out of it, tone sharp, “The night you tried to kill me?”

He pauses.

His fingers stutter for a second over silver buttons, his camera wiring, before he meets the fire in your gaze with his own inferno.

“Careful,” he murmurs. “Spit too much fire and you might burn yourself.”

For a while you hold his stare regardless of his warning. He kidnapped you, he didn’t get to force you to act like this was some kind of fun outing. It didn’t matter how avidly you had stared into Pierce’s car.

The unused burner in the cup holder still staring back at you didn’t mean anything.

Part of you wants to break that damn camera. Maybe then he’d finally fucking cry about something, show some actual genuine emotion for once.

Fuck.

Letting out a harsh breath through your teeth, you turn away from him, hiding your clenched fists in between your legs.

It was best you didn’t provoke him and you knew that. The good thing about Danny, though, was that while he burned hot, he didn’t burn long.

And you were determined to work that in your favor any chance you got.

From the driver's seat you hear your companion relax and your shoulders slump.

They ache with the remnants of your tension.

“Sure,” you acquiesce, licking slowly over your cracked lips and looking back at him with a little less fire in your eyes. “Why then? Why all the stabs if you were just going to slit his…you know?”

“His. Throat,” Danny stresses. Low, short.

He works his gloves over his fingers with his teeth, stuffing the leather in his waistband near where you know the sheath for his tactical knife is strapped against his thigh behind the center console.

You duck your head, braids knocking forward, force your hands to relax, then begin to fiddle with the rosary beads hung low on your neck. A dower mirth lifts your brows; as if the god you didn’t even believe in could save you now.

And for all you knew this was one of Danny’s gifts that he’d stolen off some poor person's dead body, so what good juju it could’ve had was probably tainted anyway.

“Fine,” you mutter, voice stilted and rough. “Why do all that if you were gonna slit his throat anyway?”

Hands on the wheel Danny shrugs - shrugs!

“I like to slit their throats sometimes, it makes the scene more dramatic, you know? Plus, I wanted to get you as acquainted as I could so I drew it out a bit more. But I’ll admit I went a lot faster than I would’ve if I was in a more private space, that’s why I like killing them in their houses.” He turns to you fully, lifts his hand past the partition without a care for how you flinch, and moves some of your braids interwoven with your fluff of curls out of your face so he can bore his gaze directly into yours. The pad of his fingers are dewy against your umber skin, his touch tender only because of their feel. “Sometimes it’s fun when they fight, when I get to debase them in the one place they feel like home.”

You bite back the urge to grimace.

It figures that the one time you get a straight answer out of him is tonight.

“Oh,” you breathe, fingers stumbling over the beads you’re rolling between them, “I…guess that’s good to know.”

Danny smiles, it’s not fake but now that you know the truth it doesn’t sit right on his face either, before turning back to his camera.

At least, you supposed, you now had more of an idea as to how he’d dispose of you if you stopped being entertaining.

The memory of the glint of Danny’s knife in the light, its own omen, as he closed in on his victim’s car (the victim of his stalking, of his murder) flickers through your mind. Flashes of the dead man’s gaping flesh swiftly follow.

Would you like it when The Ghost Face finally claimed your soul too? Would his being through with you grant you damnation or not?

Silent, you watch him get situated once he’s finished looking over his cache for the evening. His profile stands out starkly against the tower lights behind him, reedy defined features and that blocky nose that once regularly held up glasses he didn’t need to see. He’s almost angel-pretty like this. Makes a pang strike through your chest at the remnants of before, of poking at him while he worked until he couldn’t help but indulge you and his numbing kisses and the dorky (curated) way he’d push up his glasses after laughing at something cute you’d done.

It was ridiculous, this war within you. Everything about Jed Olsen had been a lie and yet still the phantom of him intrinsic to Danny continues to have you yearning.

Still you can’t help but wonder if the stab of his knife through your dark sensitive flesh, the feel of his masked or barren eyes stripping you to tendon as he plunged past your ribcage, would feel like divinity.

Danny brushes the choppy fringe of bangs that line his forehead back, streaks blood through brunet strands, and still your heart’s desire remains. Would it be…better like this? If you stayed with him, let yourself be content with a knife in your hand and a far more familiar devil reigning at your side?

The car turns on and Danny starts driving you guys away from his newest crime scene, flicking the radio on as he goes. The dvd in his player spins and the moody tones of The Ire fill the heavy air between you both. Despite yourself you fall into Maya Brooks distorted vocals, letting your body sway and shift minutely in tandem with the music.

Danny’s eyes when he glances at you are dull — you’d say they were grim if you thought he had the ability to feel remorse, but his expression is unusually open. His gaze intent on the way you’re softly mouthing along to Derelict.

“We won’t stay west too long, okay, Honey?” His voice is dry, but the curl of his tongue around the pet name is like a verbal lash. “You just hold on and I’ll have you slitting throats up north before New Years. You’re gonna love it.”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

I seem to only be able to write Danny once every year (not necessarily for a lack of trying, I’m a slow creator), but I really love exploring the horror and moral fuckery of these slasher romances so I had a great time writing this. And, yes, I did give Danny glasses as a part of his Jed ruse.

Ignore that I included a band that isn’t 90’s, I just really wanted to include The Ire idk (they’re described as goth/post-punk, but really I just wanted to talk about them a little). Plus the setting is nebulous anyway.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

Alt. Banner (scrapped) —

[leiswxrld]

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒… “Oh yeah”…….“yeah”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Ethan Landry x Black fem reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, p in v sex, mdni, stalking, hide and seek, kidnap (kind of), phone calls, threats from killer, riding, killer tied up, finding out who the killer is, foul language.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1461 Words

𝐀/𝐍: love Ethan Landry 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾.

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒: @magicalboything & @hitobaby for line dividers ❥

It was midnight by the time you had gotten home from the party, your parents were out of town and you promised them you would be fine by yourself. Going into the kitchen, you were craving something to eat so you microwaved the leftovers that your mom cooked from earlier and left in the fridge for you to eat later.

As you heated your food, the landline began to ring. Who was calling at this time, you thought. You walk towards the phone and slowly pick it up, bringing the speaker to your ear. “Hello” you mutter, hearing nothing but breathing on the other end.

“Hello Y/N seems like it’s no one but you in the house, tonight” the husky voice said, your eyes widen at the mention of your name. “Who is this and how do you know my name”

“The question you should be asking is are you really safe in the house alone tonight” the voice reply’s sinisterly, you put down the phone in panic and look around the house, making sure every door and every window was locked shut.

Again the sounds of the landline ringing echoed throughout the house as you stormed your way back to phone picking it up.

“Who the fuck is this and what do you want” you yell into the phone, waiting for an answer. The voice chuckles before silencing themselves, “If you cut this phone again, I’ll gut you like a fucking fish” he threatened, you could hear the malice in his voice, you knew he was being serious.

“Let’s play hide and seek , if I don’t find you….you win but if you don’t it will be the end of the fucking line for you” you eyes water as your hands fly to your mouth. “I don’t want to play your stupid games…leave me alone or I’ll call the p-police” you stutter. You mentally face palm yourself, it was obvious he heard the shiver of fear in your voice, the tough act wasn’t fooling anyone.

You were scared.

“If your ever so to pick up that phone and dial 911, I’ll come in there and kill you right now” your shivering in fear, cautiously looking around outside from the window, for anyone that could be watching you.

“Ok, fine I’ll play your stupid game”

“Good girl, I’ll count to 100 and you have until then to hide”

“B-but-“

“Hide”

He begins to count as you scram to your feet. You had to act fast, going to the cabinet you grab a frying pan and stand near the outside porch door, crouching behind the couch and watching your surroundings.

“70…71” his voice become menacingly scary, as you felt the fear rise in your voice, your chest rising up and down as fast as you could make it.

You prayed that he wouldn’t find you as he neared the number hundred. “97…98…”

“Please” you whispered to yourself clutching the frying pan.

“99…100…come out, come out wherever you are little rabbit”

You brought your mouth to your hand as the handle to the porch door began to fidget, “where are you little rabbit” he sang aloud, using the handle of the knife to break the glass. He stepped inside carefully, avoiding the pieces of broken shard.

You shook in fear, hand on mouth as the sounds of his heavy boots walked around the living room. If you didn’t do something now you were going to be dead before you would see the sun.

He made his way to the kitchen, glancing around to see if he could find you, he walked with authority opening cabinets with such force it seemed as if it would break off. Seeing as you weren’t in the kitchen, he walked into the hallway carefully making his way through, you got up from your hiding place and sneaked up behind him with the frying pan.

With one swift motion, you hit the killer with the pan and he hits the floor with a huge thud, knocked out from impact.

You took a couple of breath’s before deciding you would tie him to the chair, grabbing rope from your family’s garage. You struggled, pulling the killer twice your size onto the chair and tieing his legs and feet to it, you were tempted to know who the face behind ghostface was, contemplating if you should pull the mask of his head.

Just then, the mask began to move hearing a groan emitted from their lips. He look’s up before making eye contact with you before realising he was tied up, struggling against the restrains with a huff. “Let me go you bitch, before I come over there and gut you like the whore you are”

You jerked back a bit, still keeping the pan in your hands, in case he would be able to free himself . “Brave to threaten me when your the one tied to a chair” he growls, you feel the intense glare behind the mask even though you couldn’t see his eyes clearly . “How fucking pathetic, your pratically shaking you couldn’t do shit to me even if you tried.”

“Oh yeah”

“Yeah”

Bet.

You walk towards the estranged killer and sit onto his lap. “What the fuck are you-“ you begin grinding your hips into him, the friction of your throbbing bud against his hardening cock brought a euphoric feeling. “Shit- I knew you were a fucking whore once I layed my eyes on you” he weakly says, head rolling back.

You let out a moan, increasing your speed desperately trying to get an orgasm out of it as your hands move to his shoulders, gripping the silky black material of his robe. The voice changer was clearly hiding the identity of his voice but that didn’t stop him from letting weak moans slip out under his breath as he felt himself about to release.

“Such a dirty girl- just like that shit” he degraded, his hips bucking up digging into your clit as your breath hitched and motions increased. You release into your panties, the killer following after as he came into his boxers. He looks back up at you, seeing his eyes slowly trail your face. “Didn’t take you for platonic slut , bunny”

“Hey what are you doing now-” you go to his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants and boxers along with it. You could see the wet patch of arousal you left on his robe from earlier as you bring your thumb onto his ruby tip, rubbing his seed around in circles as his hips bucked.

You bring yourself back to his lap, still holding onto his length as your itch it toward your entrance. You both gasp as you slide onto it, feeling his thick cock penetrating your core. “Ohh..fuckkk” you moan, waiting to get use to the abundant feeling, before rising up and dropping back down.

He moans, watching as you pleasure yourself on his dick. Letting out low whimpers and pleads as your hips rolled and movements never faltered, greedily letting yourself enjoy the thickness of his hard cock. “Just like that” he praised, still struggling against the restrains as he watched you ride him.

Suddenly, his hips dash up into you, bouncing you onto his cock as it stabs it’s way into your belly. You seethe, feeling the good but painful feeling of him stretching you out. “I knew you liked my cock” he muttered, hips never faltering as his thrusts became too much to handle. That usual feeling bubbles in your stomach, hands staying onto his shoulders and digging into them, letting yourself lose.

You came for the first time in months, the killer that was out to get you and had nearly tried to kill you was a better fuck than the other boys you had fucked from school previously and was able to make you cum like no other.

He managed to milk three more orgasms out of your weeping cunt as your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, vision becoming blurred and head filling up with bliss. You felt high like you were on cloud nine before the killer spilled his seed into you, the copious amounts of warm release coated your walls, you felt stuffed.

You both catch your breath, letting your eyes drift back to the killer in curiosity. That pondering question came back to mind again, who the killer was under the mask?.

Hesitatingly, your hand grasps the head of the mask which caught the fucked out killer off guard and you pull it off letting it fall to the ground. Your eyes widen in shock, it was the captain of the science robotics team…most in for most your ex boyfriend.

“Ethan…

[aswho1estuff]

Pussy Cat

Ghost face x Black Reader

Inspired by an a.i. chat I had with ghost face.

Sexually charged but not really Sexual Sexual (thinking about a pt 2 for that)

•Horror•Masterlist

"That color looks good on you" a graggly voice says on the other line. "Thanks pervert" I reply sighing, prank calls have became even more frequent around the neighborhood. "Don't flatter me, I do this because it's amusing" he chuckled.

Picking up my red nail polish I position the phone between my ear and shoulder blade "why do this, you get off to it creep". "The way they freeze up blood running cold as mine turns hot.. it's unexplainable mouse" the voice heaves out on the other line seemingly shuffling.

"Wow mouse huh...you must want to play prey and hunter?" I ask "Something like that" he replies practically purring now. What a loser, I'm gonna make this guy my bitch. "I hope you don't think you'll get to be predator, if anything you're just another little pussy to me" I giggle.

"Don't you mean pussy cat" he tries sternly correcting me "yeah that too". "You're lucky I'm in a good mood" "I could say the same pussy cat". "I bet you just want attention and someone to take care of you pussy cat, I could do that".

"Well then how come this pussy cat had to let themselves in through the 2nd floor window?". "Yeah fuckin right pussy" I say getting up to grab my gun from the closet and heading up stairs. No way some anonymous loser is gonna punk me in my own home. "Oh and those braids beautiful really, they're called boho right?".

"Anyways it was raining so hard this pussy cats all wet, how about yours" he asks giggling on the other line. Walking up stairs "Come out and see for yourself? Here Kitty kitty" I whisper into the phone.

Kicking my room door open I keep the gun aimed with one hand and stuff my phone in my pocket with the other. After surveilling the room I proceeded towards the closet slamming the door open but nothing's there.

Fishing my phone out of my pocket I unmute myself "like I said-" and suddenly my ankles are being grabbed as I practically face plant the floor with my gun sliding towards the door. No one ever hides under the bed or at least you're not supposed to that's movie 101.

Looking up I find the stranger to be straddling me in a ghost face costume "I thought you weren't scared?" He says pinning me down. Mustering my strength I flip us over now residing on top and pull for his mask "I'm never scared of a pussy cat". Taking time to examine the unmasked boy in front of me, i note his flushed face and heavy breathing.

Moving my hands done until the rest on his neck "I could squash you like a bug and you'd just have to take it" I laugh "..please Miss".

[mamibaddie]

Warning: 18+ only!! SMUT

Obsessed!Charlie

- Obsessed!Charlie who saw you from afar. Your curly hair framing your face in such a way that compliments your looks. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. From that moment on, he was hooked.

- He took notice that you were in three of his classes, so he took full advantage of it and sat as close to you as possible.

- He enjoyed listening to you speak in class. He loved the sound of your voice.

:readmore:

- He also loved how you dressed. Cute bell bottoms, printed dresses, or high waisted shorts were his favorite.

- He thought of what it would be like to go on dates with you. What it would be like to walk you to your dorm. What it would be like to hold you. His thoughts of you were innocent, romantic even. At least at first.

- Then one day you forgot to bring a pencil. So you turned around, moved your curly hair and tucked it back behind your ear and asked, “Charlie, do you have a pencil I can borrow?” He was in awe. You know his name! Did he just dream this? Before it got weird, he was able to snap out of it. “Ye-yeah. Do you need one?” You smiled at him, “please. I’ll give it back to you at the end.” While you were speaking, he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a pencil. “I-it’s okay. You can have it.” You take it and smile at him. “Thanks Charlie.”

- From that point on, he knew he was done for. All he ever thought of was you.

- It was bad, but it was even worse late at night. When his mind traveled down places his mind should never go.

- He entertained horrible, nasty thoughts. He wasn’t experienced in bed, but he wanted to do everything to you and with you.

- Obsessed!Charlie thinking about what it would be like for you to dominate him. It was his favorite fantasy.

- Obsessed!Charlie wanted you to tell him what a good boy he’s been. That he’s been so good, that he can cum in you, just this once.

- He goes feral at the thought of you punishing him for being too excited and cumming too quickly. He’d have to eat your pussy til you cum five times as punishment.

- He would never get too far into his fantasies before he’s cumming, moans and whines flowing from his mouth.

- That’s when he decides to take matters into his own hands. You have to be his.

[wxxpingangxls]

yall i might be onto summm…

[merowkittie]

Fuck I might start writing for the ghost face characters and other scream characters if that’s what y’all want oh my god. I started rewatching all the movies and broo.. 😫🤘

[doodlenoodleboi]

Does anyone one want to see the behind-the-scenes of my writing I'll include my draft's mood boards and stuff like that. I'm working on a Sal request right now.

[cardierreh15]

The Guy Next Door

And we are BACK— with a new chapter of The Guy Next Door! I hope you guys enjoy. It’ll be quite the interesting one.

**I do not give anyone permission to copy or repost my work!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Motivated Violence (Idunno lmao) Fluff ! 💕 Ron being a good baby daddy! 😩🤰🏾

Description: Netty meet’s Ronan’s best friend, Harry for the first time.

Pairings: Henry Cavill (Ronan-POV) x Black!plus size Female (Amunet)

Special Appearances: Thomas Doherty (Harry)

Word Count:

Chapter 8: Birds of a feather …

‘Are you ready?’ His deep, soothing voice brought her out of her blank daydream. It had been 4 weeks since their break up and this was the first time she saw him in person. He would call every day while he was on lunch, and at night before he went to bed. She had made it evident that she didn’t want him near unless she was ready.

Today, she was more than ready.

She blinked her honey brown eyes and looked over at him as his large fist clutched the steering wheel.

It was safe to say she missed him. FaceTime calls never did Justice when she wanted to be able to touch and smell him. It ached her core to force him away, but he had to know she was serious.

‘I am.’ Netty gave him a gentle smile and let out a gentle sigh as he backed out of the driveway.

Ronan looked over at her for a moment and returned the heart warming smile. There was so much he wanted to say to her… so much he wanted to do.

Being in her presence made his entire world gleam, and his soul glow with sheer joy. He didn’t know if it was the pregnancy rubbing off of him that made him so emotional. But he’d already stopped killing because he wanted to be better for her and the baby. He was in love with her.

***

The couple had just walked into Target. Ronan was stuffing his wet umbrella in a umbrella bag when she skirted off towards the bright red buggies. His eyebrows tugged into one.

A gleam of a smile spread across Netty’s face.

‘Netty? I thought we were getting only a few things. Why not use a little basket?’ He said with a gentle smirk curling on his lips, gently shoving her hands off of the handle.

‘Well,’ she looked up at him, ‘I lied.’

‘Hmph.’ He scoffed.

‘Now, let’s go look at the baby section!’ She squeaked, wrapping her small hands around his firm bicep and gave him a gentle tug.

Ronan let out a soft chuckle, ‘oh man. What did I get myself into?’ He mumbled to himself as he began to follow her towards the baby section of the store.

Netty gasped at the sight of the tiny 3-piece set and damn near snatched the whole rack down. ‘Ronnie! Wook at it!’ She looked up from the adorable and tiny outfit.

Ronan chuckled, ‘Aw! That is so cute!’ He carefully took the clothes into his large hands. He felt like a giant! As if he tugged this thing a certain way, he’d rip it apart. It was in that moment that it really set in for him.

‘Wow… it’s… it’s so… tiny.’

His thumb and index finger gently caressed the cotton, his head falling to the side in admiration.

Then he looked up at her.

A sweet smile curled on his lips.

‘I’m really gonna be a dad!’ He scoffed as he looked back down at the onesies.

She walked around the cart and linked her arm in with his before she looked up at him. ‘You are.’

Ronan looked down at Netty with a small smirk before speaking, ‘Hey Netty, I—‘

‘Ron?’

Amunet looked back to see a tall male standing behind them with a box of diapers beneath one arm and a small basket packed with baby pacifiers and bottles.

Ronan recognized that voice anywhere! He swiftly turned around to see Harry standing before the both of them. ‘Hey! What are you doing out here?’ He asked in a slightly confused manner.

Harry stayed on the opposite side of town. And he hated to ride around in his pretty little Audi in Florida traffic. He kept it as local as possible.

‘Oh! Nothing just doin’ a lil’ shoppin’. I heard you guys were having a baby and I decided to come get somethings.’

Ronan’s face turned up in confusion. Eyebrows knitting into one, lips curling in a confused grimace. Something wasn’t right.

He never told Harry that Amunet was pregnant.

‘Oh! That’s so nice of you! Thank you!’ Netty grinned happily.

‘Of course! Anytime! Oh, I’m … Harry—‘ he placed the box on the floor, ‘by the way.’ He reached out for an handshake.

Ronan’s deep blue orbs, glanced down at his hand before they flickered back to his face.

‘I’m Amunet. You can call me Netty though.’ She said with a smile, placing her hand in his and gave him a firm shake.

‘Netty. It’s such a pleasure. Ronan’s told me all about you. His tales aren’t sufficient— you are stunning!’ He complimented.

Ronan never took his eyes off of him. He was impatient and suspicious.

‘Awww, that’s—‘

‘Harry? A word please?’ The glare he held on Harry’s face was … unusual.

Harry and Amunet looked from one another towards Ronan.

‘Ron?’ Netty said in a bit of concern, ‘Are you OK?’

He looked down at Netty and gave her a smile in reassurance, ‘I’m fine. Hey, take some time to look at something’s for the baby. I just remembered I had to talk to Harry about something.’

‘Are you sure?’ She asked in worry.

‘I’m sure.’

Harry’s eyebrows tugged into one in his own confusion. ‘Whatever you have to say, I’m sure you can say it in front of Netty.’ He raised a brow, the confused look instantly being replaced with a sinister glare.

‘No…’ Ronan bit back, ‘It is work related.’

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek before glancing at Netty, ‘Duty calls I suppose.’ He chuckled before shrugging and scooping up the box of diapers. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Netty. I’ll see you soon.’ Then he gave her a friendly smile.

‘As it was you, Harry! Take care!’ She said somewhat confused but masked it with a clueless chuckle.

Ronan walked past him in a hurry and Harry rolled his eyes following him. Once he’d noticed Ron was walking out the door, he placed the basket and the box of diapers down before taking a mental note of where he left it.

Ronan paced back and forward in front of his car with his hands on his hips.

‘OK Mr. Moody pants. What’d I do now?’ Harry’s voice had a bit of humor in it.

‘How’d you know Netty was pregnant? What are you doing on this side of town?’

Harry made a face, raising a brow in confusion. ‘You don’t recall? You told me this a few days ago!’

The puzzled male shook his head as he turned around to look at his friend. ‘I didn’t. I’m careful with these kinds of things. Netty is still in the first trimester so why do you feel like I would’ve told you and not even my own parents?’

Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes, ‘Look, you are seriously buggin’ from the lack of sleep you’re getting.’

Ronan grit his teeth together so hard, he could’vshattered them, ‘Answer the question! How did you find out?!’

Harry looked at his friend before an unexpected, sudden laugh fell from his lips, ‘Haven’t you learned? I find out— everything.’ He looked away before sighing, ‘Besides, you’re not spending time with me anymore and it’s becoming a bit lonely, Ronniieeee.’

He pressed his lips together, swallowing his spit as he glanced at the random people that walked on by; giving them a fake friendly smile. Ronan then leaned in, ‘I told you I’m done with that shit. Look, I’m trying with Amunet. I’m in love with her!’

‘In love?!’ Harry questioned raising his brow before another sinister laugh left his chest. It caused Ronan to jump slightly.

‘In love?! You only met her 9 months ago! She’s a fucking distraction and she’s getting in the way of our playtime!’ Harry argued, poking Ron in his firm chest.

‘Harry, you’ve completely lost it and you need to seek immediate help.’

‘Oh well if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black! Since when did you become fucking Dr. Phil?!Look, Netty is real pretty… real fine. I just would hate for something to happen to her.’ He said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Ronan picked his head up to look at Harry. Oh he was angry. He snatched him up by his shirt and shoved him against his car. ‘Is that a threat?!’ He gritted his teeth once more.

‘Oh no my dear friend… that—‘ Harry shoved Ronan off of him, ‘Is in fact a promise.’

Ronan’s eyebrows tugged into one. He was livid but he just took a deep breath, ‘Fine…. What is it that you want.’ He said in a hiss.

‘I want you to meet me at my place tonight. I have a arts and crafts idea of y’all’s “Head” of Neighborhood Watch. Be there at 9. Don’t be late. Or I’ll just simply tell Netty that you’ve gone killing again.’

‘You take her as a fool. She won’t believe you.’

‘Well she doesn’t trust you… she’d believe a stranger first before your lying ass.’

Harry had a point there. And that just made his chest hurt.

‘Again. You best be on time lover boy!’ He called out as he began to back away.

***

Ronan walked back inside of the Target with his mind racing. It was like he was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. But he wanted her and their unborn baby to be safe.

He found her snuggling up against a tiny pink onesie with red hearts scattered all around it. ‘Hey! You’re back!’

‘I am,’ he gave her a smile before looking in the cart. She had almost everything in that damn thing. ‘I see you’ve went to work while I was gone. And quick too!’ He chuckled.

‘Yeeeeah. I couldn’t help it!’ She giggled as she placed the small little piece of cloth in the buggie.

‘Well, that’s alright,’ he said placing a kiss on her head, ‘I told you to grab anything you wanted for our baby. Honestly, this is nothing compared to what I thought you would’ve done.’ He snickered. His mood was instantly shifted once again. She had such an positive effect on him. And he loved it.

Amunet sighed, looking up at the ceiling with dreamy eyes, ‘Our baby… our little baby.. such a nice ring to it right?!’

‘Yeah.. our baby.’ He repeated happily.

***

They’d been back at her place for some time now and they were spending sometime looking, and feeling the baby clothes. ‘I just can’t wait til they get here…’ he smiled rubbing her slightly rounded belly, ‘can’t wait to hold my baby girl!’ The thought of him having a little princess made Netty’s heart ache. She didn’t care what they had, just as long as they were healthy.

The room grew quiet for a moment as his mind slipped back to the conversation he and Harry had earlier. ‘Netty?’ He paused for a second, allowing her time to answer him.

‘Hmm?’

‘Do you trust me?’

Amunet looked over at him with a gentle smile, her head falling to the side slightly, ‘Well, you can be sneaky… but the amount of support that you’ve been giving me over the past month and a half… it’s safe to say that you have earned my trust back.’

Ronan sat up with a delighted smile returning to his face, ‘Seriously? You really do?!’

Amunet giggled out loud, ‘Of course,’ she reached across and placed her hand on his thigh, ‘You earned it.’

The smile he wore only grew larger and he just took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. ‘You have no idea how good that feels.’ He cackled.

She smiled softly, her head falling to the side as she watched him just combust with emotion and happiness. This was probably the happiest she ever seen him.

‘Hey?’ He said as he brought her feet up and started to subconsciously massage one of them.

‘What’s up?’

‘Could I possibly… stay over tonight? Like I think it’s—‘

‘Ron.’ Netty said, her face unimpressed.

He stopped in his tracks like a damn deer in head lights.

‘Of course you can stay!’ She giggled, giving him a playful smack on his arm. ‘You don’t have to ask!’

He sighed in relief, ‘Well I wasn’t sure if you still wanted your space.’

Netty felt touched by the comment and placed her hands on top of her chest, ‘Aw. That’s really thoughtful! Well, … to be honest—‘ she looked off to the side, sinking her pretty teeth into her bottom lip.

‘What’s on your mind?’ Ronan asked.

It grew quiet for a moment before she waved her hand and shook her head, ‘Nooo, no. It’s silly. Forget I even mentioned it—‘

‘Oh you’re not shutting me out. Tell me.’ He said softly, his eyes were gentle and welcoming.

She stared over at him for a moment before swallowing her spit. ‘Well, I—‘ she sighed softly, ‘It’s been hard… this whole break up. We went from spending time together every day to… me not wanting to see you… and with good reason.’ He muttered the last part before breaking into an awkward laugh. ‘I just… want us back… I miss you.’

The air grew thick with emotions. He felt guilty about the conversation he and Harry had earlier that day. But he also felt content and happy, knowing he had a second chance to redeem himself.

‘C’mere.’ He said leaning over and placed a tender kiss on her lips. Suddenly, he remembered what he’d been missing. Her soft, plump lips that taste of honey.

He then broke the kiss and rest his forehead against hers. ‘I miss you too.’

[cookiepie111]

Brown bunny girl x ghost! Brown bunny girl x ghost! Brown bunny girl x ghost!

Just soft and fluffy

[cumikering]

Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!

Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family

Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DANNY "JED OLSEN" JOHNSON | THE GHOST FACE (dead by daylight)

—

“Strike a Pose” (Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | The Ghost Face & Fem!Reader)

| You’re almost one of The Ghost Face’s victims, until you realize you’re the current object of his curiosity of course.

| NSFW, canon typical violence, psychological trauma (TW: general sadism, forced blood consumption, knife licking, no Smut - implied or otherwise - but Danny's dialogue is suggestive enough that it could be triggering.) - Doesn’t have to be read as slash like at all, but you can read it however you like.

| Also I used Danny for this but it doesn’t take place in the Entity’s realm or anything. His Ghostface just fit. Also, over the course of researching for this fic, I realized that a lot of the fics I’ve read with Danny’s Ghostface didn’t technically have his “canon” personality - and honestly in those fics he read more like Mickey almost. I mention it because I had to switch up my original concept once I realized his personality in the game was different than what I’d previously seen and I blame you people. (pic source: DbD promotional material)

| 1k+ words

It takes a crash and blurred movement out of the corner of your eye for the scene in front of you to clarify and then a scream tears its way up your throat.

The reverberation into the still air seemed to be the kick in the ass everyone needed because then you’re all moving. Not sticking around to watch the man in the mask finish climbing through the window, or to bear witness to how he instantly rushes to gut one of your friends. You lose track of damn near everyone except Alyssa, who you’re following to the back door - it was her house if anyone knew how to escape it’d be her. Leaving the image of Tiny’s mangled face and contorted body behind.

Fuck. You’d told your friends somebody was following y’all earlier.

An even worse problem occurs when a burst of ruckus sounds from way too close behind you for comfort and a high pitched wail of a scream starts up from another one of your friends; Cayla. That means there’s only two of you left now. The thump of a body and squelch of metal through flesh feels close enough to be at your feet.

It startles you bad, your vision blurring for a second. Then you make a hard left and run headlong into a wall. You collide with it hard enough to force a wheeze past your lips and for more tears to sprout from your eyes due the pressure on your nose. Even your hearing fails you for a couple seconds after impact, the sounds of your friends being slaughtered around you muted to nothing.

You have to take a moment to reorient yourself; your nose wasn’t bleeding but it was pounding something serious and you have to force yourself to wait until you can hear again to start back up looking for a way to escape. It doesn’t take long after you’ve reorganized your game plan for you to realize the now missing variable to your original plan.

“Shit,” you whimper, you lost Alyssa.

Once you're able, you turn around to see where she would have run off to only to be met with a dark smudge of movement before you’re face to face with black robes and a stark white mask. Even him just barely managing to stop himself from crashing into the adjacent wall doesn’t bring your situation any levity.

You give a muffled cry but even before you’ve turned to run you know he’s going to catch you. So said so done too, because not four steps in does a body slam into you from behind. The force sends your head bouncing off yet another fucking wall but this time you really do cry as your nose gives way beneath the pressure with a dull crunch and your body trips over itself to get away.

Without your say so you’re turned around, back slammed up against the wall that’d just been intimately acquainted with your nose, and your eyes assaulted by an emotionless ghost mask all up in your face.

The whimper that falls past your lips is downright pathetic and in any other situation you’d be embarrassed. Admittedly though, you’d like to afford yourself some grace in your last few moments alive.

The man in front of you gives a low hum, bloody knife in hand making tiny absentminded cuts into the air, while he inspects you. Face soiled with blood, snot and tears as you tremble with the force of held in sobs you know you must make quite the picture. Out of all the places you could’ve died young in, it was going to be goddamn “always safe” suburbia.

Life was funny like that.

When the man pulls away a bit more and brandishes the sleek bloody hunters knife to you though, you can’t muster up the desire to laugh.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, voice monotone. Even so he sounds - terrifyingly - like he’s mocking you. “Lick it clean…indulge a recurring fantasy of mine…and maybe you’ll survive to see daylight.”

For a beat all you can give him is this wide eyed stare - he wants you to do what? - but when he tsks some greater energy has you rushing to lurch forward. Scared he’ll change his mind in one quick swoop you run the tip of your tongue up the flat side of the hunting knife. The blood is fresh enough that you easily cut a clear line through it to the metal underneath. Could you get malaria from this? Syphilis?

There’s a sharp exhale then, like you’d genuinely caught him off guard.

“Atta girl,” he says, lowly. “I knew you’d be good for me.”

You only make a small wounded noise in response.

The next thing that pings into your mind is the taste. You almost yoke from it right then and there before another thought, that this blood was your friends’ (who were now dead as hell) pervades and you remind yourself that you didn’t want to add to the next layer of crimson.

So you keep licking in spite of the twinge of copper in your mouth and this weird man’s reactions to you. His eyes that you can’t see but damn sure can feel across the exposed planes of your dark skin. It’s a near physical thing crawling across your body and making you shiver. You snivel, blinking away the tears in your eyes, and swallow down another gulp of blood in the name of survival.

What feels like an eternity of this goes by till the motions of you slowly - determinedly - getting through the majority of the blood on the first side become a background action.

Passingly you find yourself hoping that Alyssa got help, that someone will be here soon to save you. You just had to stall long enough. You could do it, come on—

“Look at you,” he says, almost lively enough to be crooning. “Look at how low you’ll go to survive.”

The break in the silence, being forced back into the moment, makes your trembling start anew.

He chuckles lowly when the speed of your tears starts to pick back up.

“This feels better though doesn’t it?” He gestures lazily at your head and then the greater expanse of the house. “Not having to lie to yourself all the time?”

The knife gets tilted away mid lap and the way he points the tip of the blade more predominantly towards himself subconsciously forces you to look straight at him.

“It’s rude not to answer a question, Y/n.”

Now your eyes snap fully to attention, attempting to meet the killer's gaze beneath the mask even as the blood freezes in your veins so succinctly your body shivers.

Even so you do your best to convey with your eyes just how much you disagree with his reading of the situation. Fuck him, you’re not- you’re not enjoying this.

“How- my name? How do you—?”

“Hn,” he replies, cutting through your blubbering. It’d be a scoff if he’d put any inflection behind it. “I’ll be nice, since I took most of my energy out on your friends, and take that as a yes.”

“No,” you gasp. You shake your head, swinging side to side so fast his form blurs before you stop.

“Alyssa got away.” You’re sure she did. It couldn’t possibly have taken you that long to recover, and she was ahead of you. No way she didn’t make it to the door! “She got away,” you say again, voice fainter.

She had to have, you didn’t know what—

“Did she?”

You shudder, eyes fluttering around him in a daze before focusing quick on the knife as it swings back to your mouth.

“Here. Keep licking,” he says, the blade waves lazily. “Maybe you’ll pick up on the notes of bitterness from all that smoking she did.”

All you do is stare up at him. Your eyes are starting to sting from all the salt and have long gone red with irritation.

His grip on the handle tightens, leather gloves creaking.

“Now.”

You start back up on autopilot and actually - to your utmost shock - start trying to taste for any hint of bitterness under the metallic twang. You hiccup roughly, body trying and failing to regulate itself, when you find it. Nose wrinkling in disgust another wave of bile threatens to crash over you.

The knife is snatched away.

You wouldn’t dare say you were grateful for the reprieve, but you do take full advantage of the opportunity to desperately take in a few gulps of air. Being in this situation was embarrassing enough without you puking all over your tormentor; whatever satisfaction you gained from it would surely be extinguished by the absolutely feral way he’d kill you.

You’d seen what he did to Tiny, heard just how awful his attack on Cayla had been. For a man you didn’t at all recognize the voice of he’d went in on Tiny like a rabid animal, except there’d been no hope of her escaping. He’d been brutal but fast, your friend had wailed all the way to her grisly death. There was zero mercy in this man’s speed and just thinking about it makes one horrible sob shake loose from your throat.

He lets you get a few more tentative swipes in. Let’s you finish shining the first side of the knife, before seeming to fully deem you not worthy of stabbing - at least immediately - and tilting the knife smoothly away. His breaths are as shaky as yours before he clears his throat.

“Now close your eyes.” He chuckles at how long it takes for you to blink up at him. Your eyebrows furrow.

The broad side of the knife taps at your upper lip in chastisement. He tsks again. It’s an exaggerated sound, overly harsh.

“Come on, you’re so close. Just shut your eyes. I’ll make sure you get it all.”

Once again you can’t help but to search for his gaze. Whether looking for reassurance, or something else, you don’t know. The black eye holes of the gaunt mask reveal nothing either way but, abdomen tight and hands shaking, you do as requested.

A low pleased sound and then the knife is back at your mouth, moving along with your tongue like promised. Making sure you lap up all the blood. After that all you really have to focus on is doing your best to behave while avoiding this jackass cutting you up.

A rough voice drags you back to yourself.

“Say cheese.”

He sounds like he’s smiling, the dark chuckle he lets out only confirming your suspicions, and just as you look up in confusion there’s a flash of bright light that has you blinking back spots.

When you finally regain your vision the knife is so clean it glints in the moonlight and its wielder is staring down at a digital camera.

“Sweet,” he murmurs quietly before his attention is suddenly back on you.

You suck in a sharp breath and he sounds a helluva lot like he’s not holding you at knifepoint when he speaks next. He boops your nose with the flat of the blade, laughing at how you jump.

“I’ll find you,” he says, casual as anything. “Make it fun for me.”

Your heart seizes in your chest as he walks off; the sobs you’d been barely holding back break free, instantly rubbing your throat raw with their force.

Death would’ve been a kinder faith.

NOTES: Well…Hope you enjoyed!!!

First Halloween fic of the month!

Logistically, I knew this fic was fucked up but it wasn’t until I had to post it and started tagging it that I realized just how fucked up. I was clearly reliving some stuff here, that was not on purpose.

This was the only Halloween fic I had ready to go though, and I was not missing out on posting on the first day of the month. Also, I know Danny probably isn’t supposed to be a Ghostface who’s clumsy enough to be stumbling into shit, but it’s a staple! I couldn’t help myself!

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[ghostedbunnie]

nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

[allurilove]

Yandere Ghost x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: A little introduction to very pretty and demure yan ghost x gender neutral reader, perverted behavior, mentions of cheating and murder, he wants to be your one and only.

Yandere ghost had been alone for five hundred years. He had seen many people come and go, and none of his lovers had last long. They were all peaceful people who accepted death and their untimely demise, and no matter how hard he would beg for them to become a spirit and stay with him—they chose to go to heaven. Yandere ghost was scared to let go. He wanted to be on earth forever.

Yandere ghost had the prettiest hair that rivals the finest silk. Before he had died, he was a paramour. He fell in love with a married woman that made him want to be the best version of himself. He started to learn all the beauty secrets he could, traveling around the globe for the best ingredients for his skincare and hair. He dabbled in makeup, adding a bit of rouge to his cheeks and stained his lips pink. He took care of his body well. He used sugar to wax any hair on his torso or legs, and slathered scented creams he made himself so he smelled rosy. He made sure he would massage his legs and face after he woke up, and put ice on any puffy areas.

Yandere ghost was murdered by his ex-lovers husband. He didn’t like to dwell on his death, and he hadn’t exactly been truthful to you about it as well. He didn’t want you to think lowly of him for being the “other woman” and breaking a relationship apart. But, when he does get unwanted memories from that unfortunate night, he appears in your bedroom. You could feel his presence whenever he comes and goes, his cold hand would gently tug at your blankets, and you shivered as his body slowly sided next to yours. He would play with your pajamas, kiss your cheeks and bite on em. Not too hard, but enough so he could see his teeth marks.

Yandere ghost was grateful that you weren’t creeped out by the sight of him rubbing his cheeks on your inner thigh. He liked resting on your lower half since it was so unbelievably warm. He liked pressing his tongue against the crotch, and he smiled often at the wet spot that usually formed down there. He doesn’t want to be too forward with you, so simple touches like these was all he did. He kissed the fabric of your underwear, trailing upwards to your midriff, and his fingers grazed over the soft skin of your thighs. Yandere ghost was more active during the night time, and he preferred to keep himself hidden from you. Sometimes, he would pop out if you had another man over. His beautiful face would twist into disgust, and for a brief moment, he would reveal the most ugly parts of himself to the man he considered to be “trespassing.”

Yandere ghost was a little mischievous and jealous man. He didn’t like seeing you with anyone else because he had felt like you were the one. Yandere ghost was a man of many talents. He could rip his body into half on command, his intestines hanging like strings, and his mouth could detach from the jaw. He often liked to scare the men by hovering over them, his eyes wide and white without a pupil on sight, and his breath that reeked of spoiled fish would waft into their nose. If that didn’t work, he would beg them to free him from this house, and scream that there was a curse for any man that stepped foot on this land. He would crawl on the ground, sobbing endless black tears. Every time they would snitch on him… yandere ghost just disappeared immediately. He wouldn’t want you to see this jealous side of him.

[mamibaddie]

Warning: SMUT 18+ only!!

Obsessed!Charlie Walker (from Scream 4)

Obsessed!charlie who sees you and instantly becomes obsessed. He’s infatuated with everything about you. From your hair, to your skin that glistens in the sun, to the way you laugh.

Obsessed!Charlie who befriends you in class. You think he’s such a great guy, despite what others have said about him.

Obsessed!Charlie who has a favorite pair of jeans and shorts that you wear because it makes your ass look so good. He has to try hard to keep his composure.

Obsessed!Charlie who always sneaks into your window on most nights. It weirdly happens around the time you start changing into your PJs for the night.

Obsessed!Charlie whose imagination is so strong, it feels as if it’s real. Which comes in handy for his dreams. No pun intended.

Obsessed!Charlie who has the most raunchiest dreams about you being naked in his bed, fucked out, and covered in his cum.

Obsessed!Charlie who can’t help but rub one out after meeting up with you between classes.

Your friends see right through him. They think he’s a creep who always stares at you and your ass. But you disregard them. Charlie is thankful for that.

Obsessed!Charlie who watches horror movies and fantasizes about him dressed up as the killer and you playing as the helpless victim.

Obsessed!Charlie who has an entire favorite folder on his laptop of porn links of videos of couples who look similar to you both. There’s even categories to them.

[screampied]

‘ THIS AIN’T FICTION, BABY! (it is kinda..) ★

☆ sum. jjk men finding out you write jaw dropping smut. boo you whore. can you even do half the things you write about? well . .

warnings. fem! reader, feat. gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, breaking the forth wall kekw, smut writer reader, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, squırting, manhandling, cuńnilingus, whiny men, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstim, spıt, impact play, breaking the bed, bréeding, size kinks.

GOJO ☆

“oooooh,” a husky low voice coos right next to your ear. hot breath ghosts against the tiny hairs that stand tall near the back of your neck. you bit your lip whilst you’re in the midst of being stuffed full of cock. just plain evil . . satoru’s got you cockwarming him while a fat thumb of his skims down your phone. “let’s see. gojo smut, gojo satoru x reader, hey that’s me, heh,” and he pauses, a snowy brow raising up in daze once he sees your user displayed in bold near the very top of the search bar. “cockwarming gojo, how fitting, angel.”

“toru, fuck,” you whine, making a cute attempt at trying to snatch your phone away. weakly pawing at his wrist, he holds it up even higher. you gasp, feeling his swollen tip swivel its way deeper inside your cunt. “don’t read it,” you fall back into his chest, moaning once he starts to purposely bounce his thigh. embarrassment had you hot, you could practically feel your heartbeat accelerating by the minute. “ ‘s embarrassing.”

satoru squints, resuming to scroll down the glowing screen before a free hand of his trails toward your pussy. he hums, “aw, pretty girl’s got a hobby i didn’t even know of, hm. here, you say ‘he’s got you right on his lap, suppressing a moan with your teeth dug into the bottom of your lip as you’re taking him fully. .’ such nasty literature,” and the edges of your nails pierce into his pants leg. the half on long black slacks that satoru wore were merely all ruffled and ragged thanks to your pretty fingernails tugging at it with all its might. as he continues to read, you’re whining, desperate to move, desperate for at least some kind of friction. as you’re squirming on his lap, satoru’s eye then twitches. “ ‘gojo satoru also would whine in bed?’ this has to be a typo. .”

and of course, his ego gets bruised.

the pout on satoru’s face was adorable. as you’re trying to sturdy your hips, he buries his face into your chest. “mmph,” he’s shoved right between the softness of your tits, his personal happy place.

although—he had to admit, he was flattered that you wrote such lewd compositions about him. you moan as you’re grinding against him, feeling his achy cock slam into you deep within each wet bounce. satoru makes a mess as he’s buried between your plush mounds, remnants of stringy saliva dribbling down the valley of your chest. pretty, his white lashes flutter as you’re quickening your hip movements and he gasps. “oh, f- fuck, angel. ‘s no fair when you ride me like thaaat.”

and you can’t help but giggle—despite your cock drunken state, he’s still got that little glower of a pout on his lips as you’re rutting into him.

satoru’s clenched abs flex more the second you run a finger down the sharp outline of his pecs, watching him immediately fold at your touch. “but you always whine, ‘toru,” you argue in a shivering voice, your cunt tightly squeezing around his length. his wide girth makes your mouth water, such thickness was just insane. you bury your unstable knees into the center of his thighs before his broad big arms wrap around you.

he’s holding you—almost squishing you.

but just like you wrote, satoru whines the second he ends up cumming early. with the way you ride him and the crazed speed of your hips, he never ever lasted long.

it was cute,

he was always confident until he’s buried deep inside your pussy, whining and sobbing pathetic cacophonies of your name at how good you feel clamping around him. it’s merry lukewarm, as he snaps, a puddle of thick syrupy cum shoots into you deep and he’s an entire frantic mess. pants of airy breath slip out of his pink lips as he’s giving you a fill, biting into your neck to hide his slutty whimpers. “god, ‘m gonna die,” he sniffles, squeezing pressure against your bare ass. you hold onto him tight as he’s pouring such slippery wads of seed into you at once—velvety hot amounts spit inside your pussy and you’re matching heavy gasps for air right with him, entirely in sync. “fuck, fuck baby, mommy.”

“what?”

“s- shut up,” he back tracks, and he sees the smug expression growing on your face. satoru lightly smacks a hand over his face before groaning, his cock all milked and flaccid. “i said baby.”

NANAMI ☆

tender mahongy eyes stare deep into your eyes as your fingers happily intertwine with his. tangled and curled, he’s got a soft grip as his body hovers completely over yours.

with ruffled blond strands running down the front of his forehead, nanami brings a kiss toward your cheek as he’s not just fucking you, but making love to you in missionary. “sweetheart, you left your laptop open you know,” and you moan once you feel his plump tip circle its way inside of your gummy inviting walls. already, you’re coating his entire dick with your slimy slick to the hilt. your eyes widen at his words before the left side of your twitching lip is met with another gentle kiss. “i didn’t mean to be nosy, but i saw a little ‘headcanon’ about me, is that what you call it?”

you glance into his eyes with abashed intent as a burning wave of heat sprays over your face. fuck, the pulse of your thumping heart only grew louder as your first response was utter silence.

“i—” you mutter out, and he chuckles at your lack of words, digging his head into your neck. nanami’s scent was strong, it goes through each of your nostrils and you felt yourself throbbing from his touch alone.

his strokes were tender and precise. he’s swaying back and forth as his bare body continues to rut straight into you. pent up muscles of his that were merely perfectly sculptured—identical to the physique of a greek god, you couldn’t help but stare. you just couldn’t help but ogle at how he’s so pretty, how fat tears of sweat race down both sides of his bulky arms. no one could blame you for writing about nanami, although—the things you wrote about him, they were pretty risqué to say the least. with a growing pout, your arms throw over his shoulders as he’s presenting your cunt blissful deep thrusts. “okay, i write about you sometimes, ‘ken. ‘m sorry.”

“sorry for what exactly? being talented, silly girl?” he whispers in a raspy tone.

nanami cups your chin so you could look right at him, naturally leaning into his touch. he focuses on the way your eyes soften and he’s plummeting girthy inches into you raw. your toes curl, running down his back and tickling the scratch marks that paint against his flushed skin. “don’t be sorry,” he adds, pressing a wet kiss near the crook of your neck. “i’m flattered. although, dirty talk isn’t exactly my forte. you know this, my love,” and you moan, feeling the edges of his teeth playfully nibble at your exposed flesh. as pounds of skin resume to smack against each other loudly, nanami slowly lifts up your leg, tossing it over your shoulder. “my favorite part had to be when you said i pulled on your hair ‘n called you a ‘messy whore’ .”

“y- you weren’t supposed to see that,” you nervously grin . . trying to avoid how you were so close to finishing. just a few more thrusts and that was it, you’d be finished, done for. you’ve felt embarrassed before—but never to this extent. he was teasing you, nanami kento was teasing you. and pathetically enough, your pussy twitched as he recited your exact filthy written words. the bed continues to creak and groan as jolting bodies move and move together, amongst each other, and on top of each other.

with kind eyes, nanami watches as you bring both of your hands up to your face, hoping to shield yourself from any more embarrassment.

“oh, honey,” he coos in a melodically low tone. his cock reached so deep that strangled moans flew out from your lips left and right. his tempo was always just right. he never wanted to lose control, but after reading your work, he knew you’d probably like that. crimson damp lips press under your chin before he grunts, preparing himself to be milked dry.

“hngh, don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he huffs, in a soft alluring voice. everything felt abnormally tender, nanami’s softly swerving his body against yours in irregular addictive arcs in such impassioned ardent. the more you stare into your eyes—the more your blown pupils dilate.

once he cup both sides of your face, you lean into his touch. his base was thick, swollen and full. you craved him more than anything, and it’s as if your words were actually coming to life.

“there she is, that’s my girl,” he grits in a raspy voice, prying your hands away from your face. his touch was forevermore gentle. with a soft smile, nanami presses his twitching ruby lips onto yours as you both prepare to cum in euphoric torrent. bedaubing a plump thumb over your bottom quivering lip, he slows his thrusts down a few beats—hearing you vocal pussy’s squelches before a wrinkle of a smile curls against his lips. “now, now. make a mess on your husband’s cock jus how you write them in your little stories, my love.”

GETO ☆

“oh, boo. looks like someone’s innocent all of a sudden when she’s not writing ‘bout dick, hm? wonder why that is,” geto hums, propped right up between your trembly legs. he’s staring at you with a sly smirk that refuses to wipe off his lips. two of his hands spread your thighs apart more before kissing near your slobbering exposed pussy.

with a cunning grin, he gives your drooling folds a few friendly taps as if it was a little mic test. “finish that paragraph. c’mon, wanna make sure ‘m doin’ it right.”

a salty taste of shame fills and salivates inside of your mouth as you watch him with heart shaped pupils. he’s got the most hungry gaze, a bit of spit already dribbling from the thin corners of his lips.

“um, okay,” you moan, picking up your phone again, leisurely dragging a thumb down the neatly typed paragraphs. “it says, ‘you whine, taking s-suguru’s thick fingers happily into your slippery cunt. long digits of his rummage their way inside before curling all around. once suguru spits on your p- pussy, he pats it and calls it a good girl.’ ”

“like this?” geto snickers—copying your exact words, using the flat palm of his hand to rub against your bare clit. you whimper, entirely sensitive as his thick digits toy with your soddened folds. your thighs continue to jostle and shake and he found it so adorable at how you just couldn’t stay still. so cute, he’s got darkened irises focused on you and only you the entire time. these seconds felt like hours, and as he gathers a nice amount of saliva, he spits right on your cunt. just like you wrote it . . you gasp at the sloppy cold saliva cascading down your pussy. the cobwebby strands that pour from his lips had such a pretty glimmer to it. the warm breath of geto that fans against your entrance makes you twitch in elated pleasure.

he’s so sloppy, unapologetically. just like your drabble said—he then pats your cunt with an open palm before leaning right up close, pulling a thumb down your pulsating uvula before licking it passionately. “good fuckin’ girl.”

you whine, your knees practically buckling and he’s just eating your expressions up. “y- yes— like that, fuck,” you move a few long black strands away from his face. geto dips two fingers inside and he stretches you out so easily with his digits. your lips form into a cute ‘o’ shape as you mewl out a desperate cry for more. as he’s watching you succumb into such bliss, he’s got such a pretty face. it makes his dick twitch in his sweats at the thought of you writing about how he goes down on you. the specifics, how sloppy he is, even how he spanks your cunt only to then shamelessly lick the slick mess right up with his tongue.

the thought that probably hundreds of your horny little readers read about this, about him, about his tongue . .

geto’s tongue was ruthless.

he lays it flat against your cunt before fluttering his long black lashes closed. he huskily groans, not even caring that you weren’t reading anymore. as his brows arch into a contorting furrow, he slides in two fat fingers. you whimper at the sudden big yet deliciously enthralling stretch, yanking roughly on his hair. “s . . sugu,” he pulls his slick covered fingers out, licking them clean whilst staring you right in the eyes. you tremor within his hold, feeling his palms tighten its grasp on both of your thighs. you couldn’t lie, this felt a lot better than fiction. so much better . .

he’s making out with your pussy, swirling his tongue around and spelling out all of the letters of his name. creating such a mess, your slick then starts to stream down his chin to which he happily licks it up. groaning, geto then slurps at your drenched hole before giving it yet another kiss. his chin had such luminescent shine to it. you cup his face with shaky hands as he’s eating you out through another orgasm and he jibes.

“mhm, your writing could use a bit more dirty talk though,” he critiques, swiping a thumb against his lips before he spanks your cunt for the umpteenth time.

with your legs sporadically quivering, he playfully bites on your clit, watching you squeal as you’re riding orgasm out on his tongue. “oh, and make sure you add in your little fics that i bite pretty clits too.”

CHOSO ☆

“bottom? w- what’s a bottom?”

choso quirks a brow in cute confusion, slouching back as you’re still getting over your most recent orgasm.

both pounds of sweltering skin melt into each other, sticking together like glue as your hips grow unsteady. choso was reading one of your published works and he can’t help but grow curious. the way you wrote about him, how you portrayed him as whiny and submissive, it does something to him—he personally always thought he was dominant. cute. .

“oh, don’t worry about that, baby,” you timidly utter, trying to conceal an incoming moan once his cock buries its way deep in yet again. he’s nice and snug everyone and it drives him crazy. choso’s got a pout—but it quickly turns into a lewd expression once your sopping pussy swallows him right up again. two jittery hands creep their way onto your rickety hips and he moans once he feels himself already bottoming out. “f- fuck, cho.”

his eyebrows were still all furrowed and he’s got a cute scrunched up expression. “ ‘m not a bottom,” choso grumps, leaning in to sneak a kiss near the corner of your mouth. despite the raspiness lingering underneath his tone—you could hear the incoming whine desperately trying to escape. choso’s black ponytails had cute ribbons in them—by you, and he’s biting his lip at the feeling of your hips starting to grind. “i- i can be dominant too.”

“prove it,” you whisper, a bratty impish glint forming in your eyes. choso scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you but it doesn’t last at all because he’s already pussy drunk to the max.

those two words. . those two words was all it took for him to manhandle you like a rag doll, politely and respectfully tossing you into the springy soft mattress.

it bounces from the abrupt weight crashing down and you gasp once choso backs up his words, and oh, he’s fucking you stupid. you let off a gargled three second moan once choso spanks your ass, using one hand to repeatedly drag you back into his chiseled hips. sharp thrusts plow into you with such speed that you’re left with a dumbfounded expression. your eyes were rolling back and your tongue was lolled out as choso was fucking you in doggy.

as much as you write about him, he doesn’t like doggy, mainly because he can’t see your pretty face. it kills him—but he can’t deny that the view of you like this was so pretty, so enticing. your buckling knees lock as you’re cupping a hand over your mouth, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

choso’s cock was so weighty and thick that it’s got a lazy curve, a mean curve that makes itself known in every part of your insides. he’s no stranger to your body, he knows the exact layout. such stamina—you didn’t expect him to be so feral, it’s as if he was an entire different person. “fuck, fuuuck,” he throws his head back, giving your ass more and more hard spanks. the recoil was his favorite. it was just the way your pretty shaped ass would bounce back onto him. he’s in love with love, in love with your pussy, in love with you. “ngh, gotta show you ‘m not a bottom, baby.”

“c- choso,” you whimper, and his fat base swings against your ass, almost shocking you from the electric friction. you’re drooling—he’s got you stupid as your swollen chaste clit bumps up against his pelvis every single time. the bed hollers out a plethora of cries as he’s jerking more and more into you. your cunt’s drooling dewy slick all down the undersides of your thighs. you even make an attempt at trying to touch yourself. with slickness though, choso snatches your wrist away.

“no baby. ‘s my pussy,” he grumbles, pinning an arm behind your back. you’re babbling—squatting forward as he’s feeding your needy pussy with such inches. choso hisses at the brief twinges of pleasure all due to your sloppy grip. you’re brutal, wetting up his base with your dewy slick. he can’t help but stare and gawk at the way your ass presses up against him. choso’s bottom lip quivers at how good it feels and how good you feel. no matter how much of a front he puts up, he’s gonna whine. “f- fuck. teasin’ me with your hips, baby. so mean.”

yet as he’s dragging you back and forth, watching as your chest heaving and your thighs try to clamp inward—you abruptly cum, gushing all over choso’s cock. he huffs at how sudden it was, and he knew you didn’t expect it in the slightest. so pretty, your final orgasmic cries sounded like a sweet candied harmony and he could feel your quavering body breaking down with his shaft still shoved deeply inside. your mess soaks up the entirety of the dark sheet, now being drenched in a damp grey color. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper, shaking as your head slumps into the pillow. choso whines at your own pleasure, and he doesn’t even care if he doesn’t finish. he pulls out, crawling toward you before burying his face into the nook of your neck. “c- choso, oh my g- god.”

as your flimsy arms hold him close, accepting his embrace, he goes back to his clingy needy self again, speaking in a shivering soft voice. “h- have you ever wrote about squirting yet?”

with droopy eye lids, you were longing for a kiss. as if he read your mind, he leans in—planting a sultry balmy kiss right onto your lips. “no,” you mumble, moving a few strands out of his face.

choso licks near your neck, one of his hands sprawling your sticky legs apart and he brushes a finger against your slick wet cunt. “w- well, you can always write about that,” and you gasp once he lifts your leg up, easily tossing it over his shoulder. with pleading eyes, choso sighs. “but, can we do that again, baby? i- i think i like when you squirt on me.”

SUKUNA ☆

“breeding kink, interesting,” the demon gruffs, hearing you whine after he swipes his phone from your hand, wondering what in the actual hell could be so important.

he’s reading a strange explicit story of himself that’s apparently called a ‘one shot,’ according to you. how stupid, he thinks. sukuna’s irked vermillion-shot eyes skim through the many paragraphs of filth before he spanks your ass, making you keep your most recent arch.

“ah, seems like y’r even more nasty than i thought,” and your breath hitches once he circles a palm over your stinging rear cheek— an attempt at soothing the sudden pang. hearing your cute muffled whimpers, he mocks your noises. “aw, if you wanted me to ‘breed’ you princess, you could have just asked.”

“ ‘kuna, ‘s embarrassing,” you moan, gasping once he smears his leaky tip against your entrance. he was right - you could’ve ask, you could have asked him to do all the little dirty things you wrote about, you could have . .

swallowing the invisible lump that resides at the roof of your mouth, you imagine yourself being stuffed full of sukuna’s cum. so much to where he ends up getting you all swollen—you’d be nothing but sitting pretty with a cute plump tummy, wads and wads of glossy runny cum just slickly dribbling down the sides of your ass and thighs.

“write like a slut ‘n you even act like one too,” he hums, using a thumb to slide down your pussy. sukuna’s staring openly at how you’re already so soaked, so drenched and he looks like he’s ready to feast. your puffy folds glisten with your own arousal and it’s so so cute. “wonder if you write while havin’ a pussy this sloppy too,” and he smacks it raw, feeling your entire body jolt from the sudden impact. you fall into the soft padded mattress and he darkly chuckles at your weakly spot-on reaction time, aligning himself. “poor baby. spendin’ all this time writing when you could’ve been getting . . ah, what’s the word? oh, right. bred, heh.”

and sukuna does more than just breed you—he quite literally overflows your cunt. he’s a demon, and demons cum a lot.

you’re an entire puddled mess that was filled to the brim.

the sheets were all damp and stained and you’re glistening with droplets of perspiration—radiating from his heat entirely. “s- sukuna, fuck,” you weep out his name, hearing the sloppy spurts of cum still dribbling out of you. such a mess, your mouth waters as you realize just how full you are. you always wrote about this sort of thing but never knew that your silly fiction could turn into mere reality. both of your thighs stick together as you’re left trembling with an arch in your back. he’s cackling at your state, watching as globs of creamy ropes leak out of your slobbering pussy.

“how cute, jus might mess around ‘n get you pregnant, yeah,” the demon jibes, a sharp fang poking underneath his bottom lip. you’re haplessly quivering. your panties that were lazily dragged to the side were all torn and ripped, coated in a ivory white color also. as you’re trying to collect breaths—you then let off a moan once he presses himself deep against you.

your womb was completely flooded, you’re drowning with his stringy cum and with his hot burly body right up against you, you feel him right there. you couldn’t miss it, he’s so long and thick that he’s practically tickling your goopy insides. sukuna wraps a hand around your throat whilst another hand sneaks toward your pussy. “bet you’d like that, fuckin’ freak,” and he’s smearing circles against your folds. you twitch at his cursed hand, his cock still tucked inside of you before he laughs against your ear. “you want a baby, huh. wanna carry my demon babies, don’t ya princess?”

you nod and he lets off a snicker of amusement. “keh. bet you do,” and his voice lowly pitches. you moan, feeling him pull out of your dripping cunt, plugging his spilling cum back in with a single thumb. “fuck, better write about this too, princess. let all your pathetic readers know how much of a sloppy pussy their favorite author has,” and you gasp once he quickly flips you over. sukuna suddenly dives head first between your legs, lapping his flick tongue against your folds. “mmph, now watch me clean you up,” and he spits on your pussy only to then look at it with disgust. “messy girl.”

TOJI ☆

“nuh uh, get the fuck back here babygirl,” he grabs you by the hip, and you let off a moan once his fingers trail up your skirt. a wavering crinkle prods near the edge of his left twitching eye as he’s processing such raunchy words about him. a dry chortle leaves from toji’s mouth as he makes you lie on your tummy, multitasking by slapping his swollen cockhead on your dribbling folds. “ya always told me you were a writer but i didn’t think you write ‘bout this,” he purrs, and your toes curl once he’s aligning himself against your slick heat. but fuck was your cunt just was drooling for him. both folds were weeping for him to just go in already, and yet here he was - teasing you. “really? what’s with the whole ‘toji daddy kink’ thing? i look like the kinda guy that’s into that?”

you feel embarrassment creep up your shoulder. he was reading that part, the part where reader calls him ‘daddy.’

sheepishly trying to crawl away from his grasp, you swallow ignominy. “ ‘s not real, i just made it up toji,” you try to explain through gritted teeth. but as he’s reeling you back into his keen structed hips, you lewdly mewl. he’s just so fucking big, happily massaging your walls freely with just a few inches. your mouth widens as you hear him lowly snickering in the background. a snickering laugh that never failed to make your pussy throb.

toji grabs at the fat of your ass, stubby fingertips poking through your skin. with a mean spank, it’s a non-verbal sign for you to stay still. “y’er a fuckin’ slut with your writing, baby. i bet ya haven’t even tried these kinks,” he teases, and you moan again once his cock delves deeper into your walls. with such ease, you back raises up into an even sluttier arch. “hm, lets see if y’er as nasty as you write,” and you hear him grunt briefly, one of his hands gently wrapping around your neck. toji gets right up close to your ear, flicking his tongue against your soft earlobe. “go on, say it.”

“s- say what?” you squeak, but you knew exactly what he wanted. never in a million years would you have thought toji would discover your little erotic hobby. by now, he’s balls deep—you whine, feeling yet another sharp swat smack against your left ass cheek at the lack of response. you’re chewing on the inside of your cheek in guilt before you hear toji smack his lips in sheer vex.

“c’mon, don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone, salacious timbre pouring on his entire voice. toji feels your pussy dripping around him and he hums, giving you just one single tease of a thrust. your body jerks forward and you whimper sweetly. he’s so close up to you, hard washboard abs of his that were proudly flexing grinds against your back. he’s pressing his muscular weight onto you, careful not to crush you but just enough to. inching his lips back toward your ear, he kisses near your neck. “call me daddy. jus like how you write me, little girl.”

as you’re feeling a few throbbing pangs between your thighs, you shiver underneath him. burying your head in shame between your arms, you whine. “ngh, daddy,” and a weird feeling pools around the insides of your stomach. butterflies and a mixture of flutters swarm inside of you and you moan. once those words slip past your lips so prettily, toji raspily groans. he pistons his hips before not even seconds later, he’s fucking you stupid. babbles of babbles leave from you, and you’re acting just like the main character you write for. ironic, you’re clinging onto the silky cream-colored sheets, bawling up the thinly-made fabric with your clammy fists before squealing. “fuck, daddy ‘m not gonna last.”

“should hear how stupid you fuckin’ sound, baby,” he growls, merciless hips snapping into you at full throttle. you were gonna break, you just knew it. toji’s thrusts were so powerful that you’re left squeaking out pathetic whimpers—his cock stretching you out as if you were elastic. “fuck,” he runs a hand through his messy dark tresses. his shaggy strands were unkempt, overgrown a bit and running down his eyes. he’s got to cock his head up a bit just to see your pretty face and your even prettier ass. “c’monnn, do that cute arch you describe in y’r slutty fics.”

“t- tojiii,” you whimper, the weight of the bed dipping after each continuous stroke. he’s thorough. toji’s maddened fat tip has your legs becoming more and more unstable before he smacks your ass. the powerful hit against your rear rings through each of your ears—and you pout, gnawing on your lip, knowing he wants you to correct yourself. “ngh, i- i mean daddy. ‘m gonna cum, fuck.”

but right when you’re about to finish, you’re interrupted by the ear-splitting sound of wood. you’re moaning—feeling your pussy continue to squeeze around his throbbing length that’s coated with veins all the way down to the tan swollen base. it’s loud, you gasp once the weight of the springy bed suddenly drops and you both collapse—toji falling on top of you. he doesn’t even say anything, and he pulls you up to continue fucking you but you let off a whiny whimper. “you just broke my b-bed.”

“yeah, so.”

“so..? you’re gonna have to buy me a new one.”

“right. about that . .”

[merowkittie]

I’ve been told my rules page isn’t working and I just saw that it says unavailable so I will be redoing them! It needs an update anyways so please look out for it <3