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ghouljams · 2 months ago

Text

And I Can Only Think of You (Act II End)

Words: 5.3k Tags: Knight!Ghost x Princess!reader, Keegan x f!oc, knight fights, tournament violence, blood, love confessions(sort of), shitty dads, König being a creepy weirdo, major character injury, no beta we die like [redacted] Summary: Your stage has been set, the player take their places, and suddenly decide to improvise.

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The flags are raised first. Tents follow. Then the knights and their squires, then the arena and brown dirt that will so quickly become darkened with blood. You watch the set up from the castle, content to think through your plans as fences are raised and benches are built. Your mind is made up, wheels in motion, and players taking their places. You have every confidence in Ghost.

Perhaps you should have that same confidence in yourself, but… one step at a time. It’s hard to turn around a lifetime of conditioning. You have to remind yourself of your convictions, remind yourself that you’re worth the same confidence you offer your knight. Yet, too often you find yourself hoping this is a terrible dream that Ghost will wake you up from, and you’ll find yourself back in the forest with him.

Suddenly bandits and assassins seem so much easier to deal with. “The enemies you know” as the saying goes.

You’ll find your confidence when this is all over, when you have proof of your abilities. Until then you have your embroidery.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your Ghost is popular. He’s at least a head taller than most of the other knights, standing proudly and directing his subordinates in that lovely deep voice, of course there’d be women that admired him. You don’t know why there needs to be so damn many of them though, especially this early in the morning. Your heart clenches so tightly in your chest you think it might have stopped. You wonder if you’ve made a grave mistake, a mistake of the heart that you don't know how to recover from. Until he spots you and his dark eyes lighten with a flash of warmth that may as well melt you.

You feel so suddenly like yourself, like that damsel he’s always been so dutiful in his protection of. A princess running from her father’s attempt at a marriage arrangement and leaving her slippers with a stranger. Even with that dark cloth over his mouth you know Ghost’s smile by the crinkle of his eyes. You clutch your token close to your chest, something you should have given to Ghost when he'd been taken off your detail. You’d thought he’d be wearing your colors at least, but the cool flash of his armor holds no green besides the reflection of grass under his feet. You tip your head to look up at him, letting his dark eyes hold your gaze until he reaches to smooth his thumb between your brows.

“What are you frowning about now?” He asks, the low rumble of his voice warm and teasing. The leather of his glove under the cool steal of his armor only makes you pout more. He’s always touched you so easily, too easily if the rumors around you two are to be believed, but it’s never warmed your skin like this. Your fingers dig into the token you’d fashioned, nearly crushing the embroidery under the weight of your nerves.

“I’m merely anxious for the tournament.” You tell him, and earn a crease of his eyes, an amused hum.

“Have I ever disobeyed an order from you, my lady?” Ghost asks, his fingers slipping from your forehead to trace your jaw.

“Of course not.” You frown. You feel strangely… scolded.

“Then trust me,” He tilts his head, “You told me to win, and I intend to.”

The cold determination in his eyes washes over you like a chill. You’ve seen those eyes too many times, caught the fury in them as his sword splattered blood over his helm. It’s the same look he’s held every time he’s saved you from certain doom, and you want nothing more than to give into it, to let him save you once more. What once held your hopes now feels burdensome in your hand. You wish-

No, no more wishing. You made a promise to yourself. You're not going to be that scared little princess anymore. You're not going to wait on someone to save you. You're in charge of your own destiny, and if you want something you have to take it for yourself.

“You’re not wearing my crest,” You change the subject, leaning to inspect his cape, or lack thereof. Ghost huffs.

“Never would’ve made it out of the barracks if I ‘ad.” Your father’s doing you’re sure. Anything to keep Ghost separated from you, unburdened by responsibilities to the throne. Despite his new position as captain of the knights he doesn’t wear the royal crest. Disavowed, abandoned by the throne he serves. Ripe for a new king to swoop in and claim him.

“Well,” You nod, reassuring yourself, “it’s a good thing I came around then.” Another satisfied hum from Ghost, approving. It leaves your cheeks burning. You hold up the deep green fabric clutched between your fingers, the long strip embroidered carefully with the curling ivy and white dahlias that make up your personal crest.

“Just in the nick of time,” Ghost makes no move to take it, “was worried one of the other ladies would tuck theirs in my belt first.” It’s a joke, but it stalls in your brain. His hand drops to his side, fingers tugging at the leather belt looped around his middle. Making room for you to slide the banner in.

“Oh,” You stall, beg yourself not to stutter, without finding a single word to stutter on. You glance around at the other knights, house banners and lovers’ tokens hang off their belts. It makes sense, capes would get in the way of combat, but something simple like a flag on their belt…

You glance up at Ghost, feel his stare like a two ton weight. He’s teasing you, you’re sure. The same dry humor that made you throw sticks at him when you made camp. Horrible jokes.

You look down at his belt, watch his hand raise out of your view, feel his fingers pluck at the hair peeking out from under your circlet. Your own fingers go to his belt, calling his bluff as you thread your banner over the leather, and tug it into place. He leans to press his lips to the strand he’s pulled free, his shadow makes a chill run up your spine, and you feel the tug at your scalp as you shudder. You try to look busy making the banner lay flat, picking at the forest green until it’s perfectly draped over his belt, your crest on display for all to see.

Your fingers won’t pull away from him. You will them to, but there they stay.

“Thank you,” Ghost says, his voice a low murmur. You nod. His gloved finger traces over your cheek, tips your head up to meet his eyes. “Where did my confident lady go?” He teases you.

“Waiting for her father.” You mutter.

Ghost hums, his distaste clear in the tone. You fidget with the banner on his belt, enjoy the nervous flutter in your stomach as his fingers stroke your cheek. You don’t know how he does it, how he can be so steadfast. There’s never a moment where he’s wavered, never a time you’ve questioned his devotion to you. Ever since you met him, you’ve known that Ghost was here by his will alone and no one else’s.

Maybe that was why your father hated him. The one man in the kingdom who held no allegiance to the crown. Who never would have taken his commission if he hadn’t wanted to. Who told the monarchy “no” with as much mirth as he did conviction.

“I have to talk to the priest,” You tell him, hoping mention of your errands will help move you.

It doesn’t help to move Ghost. His hand stays as it was, the worn leather covering his knuckles skirting over your cheek with painful care.

“What do I get when I win?” Ghost asks.

When, you remind yourself, not if.

“Hopefully whatever you want,” His eyes crease at the edges, warm honey brown making your heart patter, “so start making a list.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You have to look away from him, your cheeks far too warm to allow for eye contact. It takes his hand from your cheek, gives you the strength to pull your hands from his belt. You can’t hang around him all day. Both of you have roles to play, proverbial swords to swing.

“Good luck my lady.” Ghost mumbles. The heat of his hands following you as you hurry back to your retinue.

Your lady-in-waiting smiles at you, takes her hand off your knight’s arm. You note that her family’s crest decorates his belt with, perhaps, too much interest. You’d noticed them growing closer, but not that close. Your knight covers the banner with his hand, and you force your eyes from it to smile at your maid.

"You have everything prepared?" You ask her. She nods.

"Of course m'lady." She twists to unhook the pouch she'd brought, producing a scroll for you.

You'd been worried after your letter to Ghost, that she might resent you. You've known your lady-in-waiting since you were a child, but knowing who you could trust was difficult when your father's grip on your life only seemed to tighten. Still, she'd been steadfast in her allegiance to you, and almost excited to help you in your scheming. You're sure you've been too clear in your affections for your knight, clear enough to risk her as well, it's nice knowing she's in your corner. Even if you hadn't thought she'd been there.

Maybe she weighed her options. Though you're not sure how you won if she did.

"Who's with my father?" You ask Keegan. He makes a face, his nose scrunching his mask in distaste.

"Graves."

"Perfect." You take the scroll from your lady-in-waiting and turn to find the announcer.

"I'm sure he'd be chuffed to hear that," Keegan tells you with an almost audible eye roll.

You're sure he would be. Just like you're sure Graves is doing his best to shove his entire head up your father's ass with how much he kisses the damn thing. That man has his eyes on knight captain, and you're sure your father has already let him know that the position will be open shortly.

Not if you have anything to do with it.

You spot the bored looking priest that's been assigned to announce the contest. Impartial in that he seems uninterested in all of it. You couldn't think of a better puppet than one who seems so keen on staying out of the actual event. Who better than someone who won't question changes because they simply do not care?

"Priest," You wave him down, dissatisfied with the placid smile he turns your way as you walk towards him.

"Princess," He greets.

"My father asked me to deliver this," You hold the scroll out to him, he nods once, a slow and steady bowing of his head. You detest it. Your fathers name carries God's weight. "König had some changes he wanted made to the prize." You smile. An explanation that's unasked for, short and sweet for a man that cares only enough not to crush the paper in his hand.

"Of course." The priest agrees. Inept, you think. There's no chance the man checks your switch, even less that he checks with your father about it. You won't be sad to see him go when your father decides to behead him after the tournament.

You nod, the priest bows, you part ways. You count yourself lucky that his ineptitude extends to his desire to pray for you.

Your lady-in-waiting sticks close to your side as you make your way to the sheltered seats reserved for your family. Another point of luck that you're sitting beside your mother. You father is too busy with his attempts to impress König to notice you settling in your chair, though you do see König's eyes flick to greet you. Mad dog he may be, at least he keeps track of his surroundings.

Your stomach ties itself into knots as your parents are plied with wine. You decline your own glass, too nervous to entertain even thoughts of alcohol. You may throw up. Your confidence, or lack thereof, in the priest is waning the longer you wait. Maybe he's peaked at your alterations. Maybe he'll send a page to alert your father. Maybe you'll be locked in your room for good to prevent any further scheming before you're sold to the highest bidder.

The priest takes his place, carried by long divinely purposeful strides, in the center of the arena. If nothing else, at least he's loud.

You tune out most of the drivel he spews. Artfully copied word for word by your lady-in-waiting from the real scroll, you really should ask where she learned such forgery, it's all praises for the king, the day, your god on high. Worthless. Less than worthless. At least the paper holds value, the ink, the time taken, but the words themselves? God. Get to the important part.

"The prize-" The priest screeches, "-which shall be allotted in full to the victor alone, announced to the people by their gracious and loving king, heretofore and forever regarded as the divinely appointed ruler of the land, shall be His Majesty's only daughter's hand in-" The priest stalls, stutters, stares at the parchment and finishes weakly, "-in marriage."

There's silence.

Then chaos.

The knights in their pen turn to you with such pinpoint precision you'd think they'd practiced the movement. You keep your eyes on the priest. Of all the eyes on you, you feel your father's the heaviest. He nails you in place, unable to speak a word over the raucous excitement of the crowd. The crown princess, finally to be married, and to a knight- no, the best night in the land, no less. It's like a fairy tale.

If you can survive it.

Your eyes dart to the pen, to the stoic figure of your knight, his eyes fixed on the priest as well. His hand is clenched tight around the hilt of his sword. Even with all the excitement he stands like a statue, his gaze level. If you didn't know him better you might mistake his stillness for calmness. He's thinking, calculating, weighing his odds. You told him to win, he'd already known what he had to do, but this- this changes things. Chaos is harder to account for.

He turns your way, his eyes dark when they lock onto yours. He gives you a short nod, and you feel the weight of it settle in your chest. Ghost turns back to the arena and disappears behind the helm he presses over his head.

You haven't seen it in ages. Burnished steel, the white pattern of a scull pained over the front, and his eyes flashing cold in the shadows. He cuts a fitting picture, your father's nightmare given human form. He has no one to root for now.

You turn your attention back to your family. Your mother hides her shock behind a facade of calm, her eyes fixed on her people with a placid smile. You never had a chance to truly ask her- no matter. Your father hides his contempt well. Practiced at it, you suppose. König has his cheek resting against his hand, his lips curled over his teeth in an approximation of a smile. You've seen monkeys in caravans make that expression, baring their teeth the way their human handler has taught them. Some part of you feels glad to have earned some semblance of his approval, as detestable a man as he may be. At least someone is having fun.

You wonder what human taught him to approximate a smile. You can't imagine his kingdom has many saints, but his handler must be one of them.

You'll try to enjoy yourself as well. After all, you're soon to be betrothed to your knight. You can't think of a better man to hand your future to. Ghost has never let you down, and you can't see him starting now.

That's how the first match goes.

Your knight swings his sword with such practiced precision that it sends his opponent's flying from his grip barely moments into the fight.

Not to be outdone the rival knight lunges for him, and you taste bitterness on your tongue when Ghost brings his sword down hard on his rival's helm. The poor fool is crushed, sent sprawling flat on the ground with the imprint of Ghost's hilt decorating the back of his helm. The cheers are as violent as the match-up as Ghost raises his fist to the crowd, his sword hung lazy at his side. You can almost feel the smug air radiating off of him. Similarly, you can feel your father's ire poisoning the air around you.

You care little for the other matches. Tournaments are only fun when you have someone to root for after all, and when it's your life hanging in the balance you find yourself looking away from the lecherous gazes of the other challenging knights. You can't find it in yourself to feign an interest in their matches.

If your mother is to believed you shouldn't have to.

Rumors of your attachment to Ghost are the very reason he was taken away from you. You're sure the other knights know all too well who you're rooting for. If it weren't clear from the banner on his belt, surely they'd know it from the gossip that floods the castle. It's only their own greed and lust for your crown that gives them any hope at all for taking your hand at the end of the day.

One thing is for sure. You've never seen a tournament so bloody.

The knights fight like rabid dogs. If they cannot disarm their opponent they will attempt to kill him, searching for the breaks in their armor and beating their sword into the bends. Men beat each other with their fists, they batter each other with maces, they claw for every scrape they can achieve until the priest yells for them to stop.

You watch Keegan dodge a particularly deadly blow from a larger knight, his eyes wild with bloodlust. It makes your skin crawl to think such a man might ever force his way into your bed. Your only saving grace is watching your knight swing his sword, twisting with the grace of a dancer to hold his blade against his opponent's throat.

You suppose it's good that Keegan has no dreams of the monarchy, content as he is to pull your lady-in-waiting's banner from his belt and press it to his helm. He could give your Ghost a run for his money.

One of the servants offers you lunch partway through. You bundle bread and sweet meat into your handkerchief, and pass it off to your lady-in-waiting to take to Ghost. You're sure he's resigned himself to hunger, and you'd rather he keep himself in fighting shape.

You smile when you catch your father's eye.

There is something pleasant about going against the man. Not pleasant enough to go so far as killing him, despite König's suggestion, but satisfying nonetheless. Your father has always seemed larger than life, untouchable in his judgement, but now you see him as exactly what he always has been: a man in a fancy hat. A man without half the strength that your Ghost has. A man that could crumble under the weight of a sword.

Your father has strength in his eyes, but straight backs can be broken as easily as hunched ones.

You hear the sickening crunch of yielding bones and catch the way Graves jerks and twists at his opponent's arm under the hollering jeers of onlookers. The man screams out in pain, and your father's knight releases him. Only to plant his foot against the knight's chest and kick him to the ground.

The priest calls the match, and Graves moseys to fetch his sword from where he threw it. He wears your father's --the monarchy's-- crest on his belt.

You look at your father, his smile proud beside your mother's wide eyed horror. He turns to look at you.

“A late entry,” the king tells you, “but quite impressive, don't you think?”

You don't think. Not on your life would you think your father's pick impressive. Not with the way he saunters towards your stand and leans against the banners. His blue eyes now black, swallowed by his pupils, look you up and down like a hog for slaughter.

“Y'know princess,” he smiles, “I always thought you were a pretty thing. Guess now I'll finally get to see you without the big guy staring me down.”

You shouldn't entertain that with a response. You keep your eyes firmly on the priest as he announces, silently, the next match. Your hearing rolls with the crashing of waves, the thrum of your blood circulating and rushing against your brain, trying to find purchase for some new brilliant plan. Trying to find reason against your faith in Ghost. You find nothing but your own affection.

“You will lose.” You assure Graves. He hums, his smile unwavering. Unnerving. He pushes away from the banner covered fence and pats the knight coming into the area on the shoulder.

You won't let him or your father's bastard-airs dissuade you. Ghost has fought twenty men and come out unscathed. He's rescued you from far worse than Graves could throw at him. Besides, the only good Graves has done in his life is give you someone to root against in the tournament.

And root against him you do. When you aren't cheering for your Ghost(and Keegan, bless him) you're cheering on whatever poor soul is stuck facing your father's pick.

With each rung the knights climb towards your hand the matches grow bloodier. Men seem less afraid to go against the rules of combat, more willing to darken the dirt with their opponent's blood. You watch Keegan take a nasty blow to the face before managing to disarm his opponent. When he flips the visor of his helm up you're treated to crimson staining his brow, flooding his eye such that he has to call for a cloth to clear it. Your Ghost too, seems to grow harsher, his goal --your goal-- closer with each victory he achieves.

He batters one opponent with his sword still sheathed, beating the other knight into submission with a singular focus that you so rarely see. Still, he seems to be the only one to avoid spilling unnecessary blood on the field. Your sword raised carefully against your subjects, rot excised with surgical precision.

Graves holds none of the same delicacy.

Yet he turns to be sure you're watching with each man he injures. His hand raised to you --to your father more accurately-- as if to more openly show off his ruthlessness. Even the mutt king seems impressed with him.

"Scheiße," König hums, his smile still biting into his fingers, "What is it you English call it?" He asks your father, "Cutting the same clothes?"

"Yes I was rather brash at that age too," Your father agrees, so smug, the bastard.

"Oh no," König's smile, now at least, seems to fill with joy, perhaps he can only do that when faced with someone else's misery, "It is my clothes he cuts from."

It's the first you've seen your father hesitate. His eyes draw to Graves' grin, his helmet tossed and his cheek wearing the blood of his victory. It drags a path over his teeth, and you know you'll see the pink tinge of his spit in your nightmares. It's as if this is the first he's seen his personal guard without the blinders of stopping your betrayal.

And what can your father say? That he hopes Graves isn't? That König is the last kind of king he'd ever want to hand his kingdom over to?

He glances at you.

That he'd want to hand you over to?

He is still your father after all. It's the first time in years you've seen the same concern he held for you as a little girl. The first time you think he's looked at you as something other than a tool for his own political gains. You wonder if he's wondering: Can he really hand his daughter over to a man like König?

To a late entry?

You look away from him, and to the man your father had so cruelly put forth to win you. Not because he thought you were a particularly good match. Not because he had a particular fondness for Graves. But because he hated Ghost. You wonder if his own petty resentment is good enough reason to hand you to a man with blood in his teeth.

All the more reason to cheer for your own men.

You pay little attention to the rest of the matches. You gossip with your lady-in-waiting and do your best to ignore the rest of the world. You only know when Keegan has taken the field again when your friend stops talking. She looks so worried you'd think he was facing the devil himself. Serves you right for ignoring the matches, you suppose. You must have missed the dark lord's summoning.

Turning to the field you do see the problem. He's up against Ghost. If this were any other tournament you might feel bad rooting against the poor fellow, but as it stands you can't find it in yourself to hope Keegan wins. You have neither the desire to marry him, nor the desire to take him from your friend.

It's probably best that he puts up a lackluster fight. His grip is loose when Ghost's sword swings, and much like the knight in the first round Keegan's sword goes flying.

The two men stand facing each other before Keegan lets out a long breath.

"Oh no!" He yells, "Not my sword! God not my sword!" He makes an exaggerated showing of shrugging, "Oh well, I suppose the match is yours."

You snort. It's good that he has his knighthood to fall back on, he certainly has no future in acting if that performance is to be believed. Still, your lady-in-waiting cheers loudly for him as he exits the field. You cheer as well, falling into your friend's laughter even through the nerves that grip your stomach.

You look at the tournament board and watch your crest move to the final round. The tree finally reaching its inevitable conclusion. Ghost is going to win just like you told him to.

Your eyes flick to the other side and land on the royal seal just as Graves is announced in his own semi-final round.

You know in your heart that he'll win with the same understanding that you know fire will burn you and the sea will swallow you whole if you let it. It is a fact that cruelty like his rarely goes punished.

You stand from your seat, you can't watch this match. No matter how short it may be, you can't watch. You can't see that man win again.

You go to find Ghost.

There's a page fussing over him when you make your way to the knight's rest area. You don't recognize them, but you don't spend much time at the training grounds. Ghost spots you immediately and waves off the boy to greet you.

"Go back to your seat," He advises, though there's no push behind his words.

"I wanted to congratulate you." You grin and see his shoulders lower slightly, softening beneath the armor.

"Thank me after, my lady," You can hear the smile in his voice even behind that horrible helm, "I'm only following orders."

"You're following them beautifully." You reach to fix the drape of your banner on his belt, and see him tilt his head in your periphery. His hand raises and he brushes the steel knuckle of his glove against your cheek. Soft despite the cold, unyielding material.

"The other knights think you've fixed the tournament." He mumbles.

"I have," You tip your head back to look at him, trying to find the warm copper of his eyes through the slits in his helm, "I put you in it."

The huff of breath Ghost lets out is as close to laughter as you'll get from him, but it warms you all the same. He turns his head away from you, surveying the field of defeated knights. All men he'll be commanding as king soon, men who must envy and revere him in equal measure. You're sure how it must look to them, but perhaps it's better they think they lost due to some predestination rather than their own inability.

"You should head back," He turns back to you, "No need to hear what your father's man has been saying about you."

Your stomach churns, "What's he saying?"

"Nothing he won't pay for." Again you can hear Ghost's smile, and it settles your nerves. You nod, gathering your strength around you.

"Then I'll be waiting for you," You assure him.

"You'll never have to wait again when this is over."

You push up onto your toes, and press your forehead against his. The bend of his back must be painful under the layers of steel, but you're sure he'd agree it's worth it for a small parting comfort before you turn to hurry to your seat.

You're only too happy to see the field bare when you make it back. Your lady-in-waiting is beaming in a way that makes you think perhaps she paid her own knight a visit.

Your father's crest has been moved to face your own. An inevitability, but one that you find your confidence bolstered on. You have Ghost's assurance, what else could matter?

König leans forward in his seat, his eyes sparking with excitement next to your father. There's a tightness on your father's lips, nerves in his eyes. You've never known him as a man who shows fear, but perhaps that's just because he's never been on the losing side. You're sure to cheer particularly loud when Ghost takes the field once again. Your father doesn't even stand for Graves.

The priest gives his spiel, the knights bow before the king, and you stand to smile at the crowd when the prize is reaffirmed. Your hand in marriage, and the whole kingdom as a result. You're not surprised when the priest nearly runs from the area, not when both knights draw their sword as soon as they raise their heads.

You can't say who swings first, only that the clash of their swords is deafening. Both knights hold the other back before Ghost squares his shoulders and swings again.

Graves deflects.

Ghost swings.

Graves deflects. Swings.

Ghost deflects.

They trade blows that make your ears ring. Their swords swung with such force you can almost see the flex of muscle under their armor. You can see why your father has kept Graves close, he's a talented swordsman, but he isn't Ghost. Graves is fast, following the momentum of his swings. It's flashy compared to Ghost's technical perfection, hollow with wasted movement.

Ghost takes a step back and you watch him switch his grip. In all the years you've known him you've never seen him change hands, but when he twirls the blade you see an ease of movement that seems supernatural. It's enough of a display to make Graves lunge forward.

You remember Ghost telling you once that the only true rule of combat is to win at all costs. That chivalry is for those that can afford a loss. There's no weakness in the way Ghost moves, and you have no doubt in his ability to win.

He side steps Graves' attack, his sword raised to bring the hilt down hard on Graves' shoulder, and stops as his armor's straps pull tight

and snap.

You watch with the rest of the helpless audience as Graves flips his grip and plunges his blade deep into Ghost's side. Slicing the metal clean through through the back of him dark with the sheen of blood spattering onto the dirt like a waterfall.

It's not the cling of swords the rings in your ears as you leap to your feet, but your own shrieking. It follows Ghost to the ground as he settles hard onto one knee. The shouting of the crowd is a deafening cacophony of "Blood! Blood! Blood!"

And your world crumbles into a single point as Ghost's helm tips to stare up at your father's victory.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #knight!ghost #princess!reader #f!reader #medieval au

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iamtired10 · 2 months ago

Text

out of focus

pairing - ??? x female reader x ???

synopsis - you have two sides to run from, but both are dangerous.

genre - yandere, stalker fic. nothing cute here

warnings - stalking, death threats, extreme, blood, idk, idk², cliffhanger ending, strong language, reader being dumbass, sorry to hyein, pt. 2 coming soon.

word count - 2.6k

a/n - lame-ass fic, im illiterate, my dark romance era is back!! imma write more yandere fics❤️

the first message had unsettled you, but you’d shrugged it off as a minor, albeit eerie, incident.

an unknown number had texted something vague and unsettling:

i’m watching you.

it seemed like the kind of thing you'd hear in some horror movie, but reality?

that felt unlikely.

it could have been a prank—a bored teenager with too much time on their hands or someone testing a spam bot. you rolled your eyes at the thought and went about your day.

but the messages didn’t stop.

in fact, they grew more frequent, more specific.

at first they were merely creepy—just enough to make you glance over your shoulder, but nothing that couldn’t be brushed off.

however as time passed, the texts grew far too detailed.

someone out there knew things no one should know: the exact time you left for uni every morning, what you were wearing, even the tiny, unnoticed things, like how you tapped your fingers on the counter when you were anxious or the way you hummed under your breath when you were deep in thought.

and then came the photo.

the one that made your skin crawl.

it was of you—sitting alone in your room.

the image had been taken from outside, through your window, the angle unmistakably clear.

whoever was sending these messages wasn’t just toying with you from a distance anymore.

they were close.

so close you could almost feel their eyes on you.

you tried to make sense of it, but there was no logic to be found.

every message came from a different number, each with a distinct tone.

some were desperate, almost pleading, demanding your attention with phrases like

why r u ignoring me? i just want to talk.

those ones felt needy, like a strange, twisted longing.

others, however were chillingly emotionless.

u need to be more careful.

those messages felt more like warnings, threats whispered in the dark.

cold, detached, and calculating.

it felt like you were caught between two different people.

one seemed desperate to get close to you; the other wanted you to protect you.

maybe it was just one person.

maybe they had split personalities, switching between obsession and cruelty. or maybe this was a sick game, a test to see how far they could push you, how much fear they could instill.

despite the growing dread, you tried to ignore it.

life continued, even as the dark presence lingered in the background of your mind.

your best friend, hanni, had been the only person you confided in.

she had always been your rock, grounding you when the weight of the situation became too heavy to bear.

when you told her, she didn’t hesitate. “i’m staying over,” she had said, her tone firm, no room for protest. “you’re not going through this alone.”

and for a little while, with hanni there, you’d managed to convince yourself that things were going to be okay.

but now, hanni had too much on her plate.

you didn’t want to burden her further, so when your other friend, hyein, invited you over for a sleepover, you agreed.

maybe a change of scenery would help.

maybe being at hyein's place would give you the distance you needed to think clearly.

you leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, the phone pressed to your ear. “i’ll be there in about 30 minutes,” you said, forcing your voice to sound light, normal.

hyein had picked up on it, though. “unnie, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“yeah, i just haven’t been sleeping well,” you lied. “i’m looking forward to tonight.”

she didn’t push further, and you hung up, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

just as you slipped your phone into your bag, it buzzed again.

you froze.

unknown number [+82 67 3573 2345]

dont leave ur house

your heart skipped a beat.

it was that unknown number again.

the familiar sense of unease crept up your spine.

a second message quickly followed. . .

unknown number [+82 67 3573 2345]

if u leave, u’ll regret it

a threat. this was a threat, wasn’t it?

your pulse quickened, and your hand trembled slightly as you clutched your phone.

did they know where you were going?

how close were they?

were they watching you right now?

the elevator dinged as it came to a stop on the ground floor, but your feet felt glued to the floor. your mind raced, spiraling into a storm of questions and panic.

should you go back to your apartment? but what if going back gave them more power, made them think they could control you?

what if tomorrow you received another message, telling you not to leave again?

how long could you play by their rules?

but then what if ignoring them was worse?

what if disobeying meant they’d escalate?

you stepped out of the elevator, the chilly evening air hitting your skin.

the world around you seemed oblivious to the terror that had taken root in your life. people passed by, chatting and laughing, completely unaware of the invisible danger lurking around you.

your phone buzzed again. this time, it was hyein.

hye🐣👶🏻

see you soon right?

be careful on the way unnie (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

you stared at the message for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you.

if you went to hyein’s place, maybe you could escape the immediate threat.

after all, the stalker hadn’t done anything physical yet…

but how long until that changed?

you slipped your phone back into your backpack after finishing the text exchange with hyein.

just as you were adjusting the straps on your shoulders, you suddenly bumped into someone. the impact was light, but it was enough to knock the other person off balance, sending them crashing to the ground.

“shi—! i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to—” you started apologizing hastily, looking down at the person who had fallen. your words trailed off when you realized who it was.

“oh… hey, haerin-ssi.”

it was kang haerin, a junior at your university.

you had crossed paths with her before—usually in the library, where she often sat alone, nose buried in a book. your classmates had often teased you, claiming the quiet, cat-eyed girl had a crush on you. you’d noticed her occasional shy glances, but you always brushed off the idea. still, there was something about the way she quietly observed you that made you feel… watched.

“hey, sunbae-nim…” haerin’s voice was barely above a whisper. she had her hood up, almost like she was trying to hide.

she seemed to be in a hurry, her posture tense.

your eyes darted to her phone, which had slipped from her hand during the fall. “oh, let me grab that for you," you offered, kneeling down to pick it up.

but just as your fingers brushed the edge of the phone, haerin's hand shot out, grabbing it before you could. “no!! i can get it myself...” she blurted out, her voice suddenly panicked.

you blinked in surprise.

this was the first time you'd seen her react like that—so flustered, so defensive.

you stood up slowly, eyebrows raised. “uh, okay, but i heard the screen crack. you sure it’s not broken?”

haerin stood up quickly, clutching her phone tightly. “you don’t need to worry about that, sunbae-nim,” she muttered, her gaze avoiding yours.

before you could say anything else, she brushed past you, her shoulder bumping into yours as she hurried away.

you tilted your head, watching her rush off in confusion. “weird…” you muttered under your breath. “what’s she hiding on that phone?”

you shook your head, her sudden panic almost… cute, in a way.

later that evening, you were sprawled on Hyein’s couch, half-watching a movie.

or at least, hyein was watching.

your mind had checked out long ago.

every few minutes, your phone would vibrate in your lap, each buzz pulling you further away from the screen and deeper into a pit of anxiety.

then, a new message appeared, and your stomach dropped as you read it:

unknown number [+82 78 3573 1638]

darling my darling

u're going to regret what u've done

i told u not to leave last night

but look at u, out having fun with that kid

watching a movie like nothing’s wrong

you blinked at the screen, then quickly locked your phone, shoving it into your hoodie pocket.

“unnie, anything wrong?” hyein asked, turning her attention away from the movie to look at you.

“yeah, it’s fine,” you lied, glancing away. “just the stalker sending me another love notes, as usual.” you sighed heavily.

you had reported the stalker to the police, but they’d been no help. whoever this was, they were too good at covering their tracks.

changing numbers constantly, sending messages from random places—it was like they were a ghost, slipping through every crack and loophole in the system.

the police couldn’t pin them down, and it left you feeling trapped, helpless.

another vibration.

unknown number [+82 78 3573 1638]

r u u still ignoring me huh?

r u really having that much fun w her?

w that lee hyein?

is she that much better than me?

what r u going to do next?

sleep w her? w a kid? ㅋㅋㅋ

huh is that it?

this one was different.

more direct. more cruel.

the words cut deep, and something inside you snapped.

enough was enough.

you quickly typed back, your fingers flying across the screen:

stop messaging me

she's a hundred times better than u.

u’re just a pathetic loser who doesn’t have the guts to face me in person.

and dont u dare think about her again

you hit block for what felt like the hundredth time.

but even as the message disappeared, you knew it was only a matter of time before another number popped up, and the cycle would start all over again.

no matter how many numbers you blocked, the stalker always seemed to have infinite patience.

more patience than you, that was for sure.

you stared at your phone, frustration bubbling up inside you.

how long could this go on?

how long before they stopped playing games

and did something worse?

and it had gotten worse.

much worse than you could have ever imagined.

you hated yourself for going to hyein’s house that day.

every terrible thing that had happened to her was because of you.

the guilt gnawed at you like a beast with no mercy.

you stared at hyein, lying in the hospital bed, still unconscious.

her ankle was broken, a bandage wrapped around her head.

the doctor said she was lucky to be alive, but you couldn’t shake the words that haunted you:

unknown number [+82 90 5874 3663]

got a surprise for u, my love.

u're going to like it.

go to the gymnastics building.

i love u. so much

that’s where you found her.

hyein, crumpled at the bottom of the staircase, blood pooling beneath her.

someone—your stalker—had pushed her down the stairs.

the sight of her lying there, so still, so vulnerable, was burned into your memory.

and then the next message arrived.

unknown number [+82 90 5874 3663]

told u to stay away from her

but you didn’t listen

she’s lucky she’s not dead.

but the sound of her skull cracking was loud enough to satisfy me ㅋㅋㅋ

anyway i love u, my darling.

remember this is just a little showcase. i can do worse than that

all of this... it was because of you.

you couldn’t forgive yourself.

the guilt was unbearable, consuming you from the inside out.

mrs. lee’s sobs echoed in your ears as she clung to hyein’s brother in the waiting room.

the grief in their eyes was too much.

they loved her like you did, but they didn’t know the truth—their daughter, their sister, was in this hospital because of you.

you bit back your own tears, but they came anyway, spilling down your cheeks.

hyein had always been like a little sister to you, someone you wanted to protect. now she was hurt, possibly broken, because of you.

the thought of her dying because of your choices was like a knife twisting in your chest.

the stalker had done this.

and they could do worse.

much worse.

the only sliver of relief was that hyein was stable, though she hadn’t regained consciousness yet.

but you didn’t know if the stalker would come after her again.

that thought paralyzed you.

“it’s okay…” hanni’s voice broke through the fog of your mind.

she was sitting beside you, pulling you into her arms.

her hug was warm, firm, as she rubbed your back gently. “she’s going to be fine. don’t worry. she’ll be okay.”

her words were soothing, but they didn’t reach the gnawing fear inside you. “i’m here, okay? no one’s going to hurt you again. the police are here. we’re all here for you. you’ve got me. it’s going to be alright,” hanni whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as you collapsed into her, sobbing into her chest.

“h-han, i’m so scared…” you stuttered, your voice broken. “why is this happening? why can’t they just leave us alone? why can’t they leave me alone? what do they want from me?”

hanni held you tighter, her voice low and serious. “love…,” she murmured.

you blinked and looked up at her, confused. “h-huh?”

she sighed, then met your eyes. “i mean... they’re obsessed with you. they want your attention, maybe more. maybe love. i don’t know... but let’s not think too much about it right now, okay? just focus on being here. on being safe.”

you swallowed hard, nodding as you let out a shaky breath. “o-okay…”

just then, minji’s voice interrupted the quiet moment. “are you guys leaving soon?”

she stood at the door, her eyes flicking between you and hanni.

you tried to pull away from hanni’s embrace, but she held on tighter.

“no—” you started, but hanni cut her off.

“yeah, i think y/n needs rest,” hanni said firmly, smiling softly as her hand continued to rub soothing circles on your back. “she was awake all night, and she’s exhausted.”

you shook your head. “but i need to stay for hye—”

“she has her brother and minji. doctors, nurses, and the police are here to protect her,” hanni interrupted gently. “you were here all night, y/n. you didn’t sleep. you need rest.”

you wanted to argue, but you were so tired.

the exhaustion hit you all at once, like a wave crashing down. you sighed in defeat.

minji nodded. “okay. i’ll keep you updated when she wakes up or if anything happens. and if you need anything, call me. do you want a police officer with you for protection?”

before you could respond, hanni spoke up confidently. “no, i’ll be with y/n. the stalker can’t do anything to her while i’m there.”

minji raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “alright. . . just let me know if you need anything.”

she gave you both a lingering look before walking away.

hanni finally let go of you and stood up. “i’ll grab your backpack. don’t move, okay?”

you nodded as you watched her walk off, the quiet hum of the hospital surrounding you.

nurses bustled about, doctors talked in low voices with patients, and the distant sound of machines beeped steadily in the background.

it all felt surreal, like the world was moving on while you were stuck in this nightmare.

and then your phone buzzed.

your heart stopped as you hesitantly pulled it out of your pocket.

you glanced down at the screen, and your blood ran cold.

unknown number [+82 67 3573 2345]

is typing. . .

dont go to her house

a/n - fell asleep while writing it -_-

my brain, butt, back, neck, fingers hurts 😣

#newjeans #new jeans x reader #fluff #fanfiction #oneshot #hanni x reader #haerin x reader #hyein x reader #minji x reader #x female reader #yandere #stalker

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imblueeforyuu · 29 days ago

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Yandere naga x janitor reader��

You were broke, living in a car and constantly having to take odd jobs was the norm. It wasn’t that bad actually, living in a car means you can pack up and leave whatever city you're staying in anytime. But recently you’ve gotten a job offer no one can refuse. 1000 a week to clean some snakes' cage for some billionaire. And that’s the only description you got for the job. But damn you’d be a fool to refuse. So of course you took the job, and now you were at this gigantic mansion.

You felt out of place. Everyone had their own uniform with the name embedded into it. And you were stuck in your cheap ass clothes. Looking at the walls you notice way too many paintings of mythical creatures. Like one or two is already a creepy amount, but this person had hallways on hallways of art of such creatures. There were none of the billionaires, which was odd, aren’t rich people supposed to be super egotistical and have one to many art of themselves? A butler led you to A fancy door, was the reptile in there?

“The master is just in there ready to ask you some questions,” the butler said blankly. Oh, an interview, right. Dang you're not ready for an interrogation. Sigh. You walked into the room to see a very burly woman and a big ass glass wall which seemed to have the enclosure of the snake behind it.

“Oh, you're the new piece of meat.” She smirked. What an odd way to describe you. But for 1000 a week you’ll take any abuse. The woman got up and started to examine you. You froze, you don’t really like people in your personal space especially like this.

“Hm, you're perfect,” the lady said. So does that mean you got the job? Yaya!

she handed you a broom and sent you on your way into the enclosure. When you stepped in it was like transporting into the deep jungle. The sky was eerily realistic, there were little animals and bugs scuttling around. But no snake yet, not that you minded you’d prefer to do the job silently and quickly. Unfortunately your boss said no phone, so you couldn’t listen to music.

Your job went as quickly as it could. You didn’t run into the snake at all which was strange because you thought it would be pretty big but apparently not. Whatever, you walk out of the cage and into the office room. Seeing your phone grabbing it and walking out of the office, the harsh reality of the never ending hallways hit you as soon as you walked out of the room. Thankfully there was another butler looking dude, dusting. You walk over towards him. He seemed shocked to see you. But got over it as soon as you asked for directions. Now you finally get to relax. The next day was pretty much the same thing. There was no snake and you just gotta chill, you convinced your boss to let you listen to music.

A month passed and you were 4000 dollars richer! And with the added bonus of free food you were finally closing a deal on a real house, well apartment. You’ve also done your job too many times. It takes like an hour max to fully clean the cage. Which is perfect because you’ve taken on a new hobby called sleeping in the cage. How could you not? It was so peaceful the sound of crickets chirping always lulled you to sleep. But one day your peaceful sleep was interrupted by an overgrown snake.

“Stupid human falling asleep in my presence, does he know who I am?” I said. Hating humans was always a part of who I was. Taken from my home when I was just a child and sold off towards a crazy old woman who I’m pretty sure wants to fuck me pretty much solidified that hatred. but gosh I couldn’t kill it, it was kinda cute. I slithered towards the human who was taking a nap.

Towering over it I pause, I’ve been having trouble killing this exact human. Normally I would eat them whenever they turned their back. But this one was different. Like there was a force pulling me closer to him. so I’ve just taken to staring at him. He’s so interesting looking, I reach my hand out and touch his hair. The human twitches slightly, I quickly pull my hand back and before I was able to hide back into the bushes he noticed me.

Your eyes widened, why the fuck is there a 8ft snake monster just staring at you. Backing up quickly, the snake comes closer to you glaring. It looked like it wanted to murder you, and it probably did. The snake man lunged towards your neck and bit it. You scream and try to push him off. But it didn’t work. He was just a wall of mussels. Now you are a pretty strong guy. You go to the gym every other day! But this guy was on a whole different planet! You still try and push him off of course but whatever he bit you with was starting to make you sluggish and you fall back asleep.

You wake up in a cold sweat, you try to stretch and move but something is squeezing you. Thrashing around as soon as the dread of being touched all over set in, you hated when people were too close but touching is on another planet of hate.

“Stop struggling human,” a voice hissed out. quickly you turn your head to see whatever was holding you so close. It was the snake man.

“There’s no point,” he continued, stretching his arms. “You're stuck with me forever,” he smirked.

Oh well guess this is your life now, stuck with a ginormous snake man who hasn’t quite figured out the concept of personal space.

#male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x male darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #yandere monster #male yandere #yandere naga #monster fucker

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bighungrywolf · 3 months ago

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Stu looked out at the lake, noticing that faint, almost fluorescent green glow in the water. No one in their right mind would go in there, but his buddies had dared him to swim in that lake by saying "you don't have the balls to do it," which to Stu were like magic words he couldn't say no to.

Without another thought, he dove into the lake while his friends cheered him on. Everyone waited for him to come out of the water to congratulate him, but it seemed to take longer than usual for him to come out, and his friends began to worry. However, just as they were thinking they might have sent Stu to his death, he began to emerge from the lake with a confident stride. His colleagues didn't know if it was because of the reflection of the water on his body, but Stu's skin looked like it had a greenish tint to it, just as his eyes had gone from a deep blue to a slightly creepy green glow.

Mike, one of his colleagues, ran up to Stu as he was coming out of the lake to congratulate him and tell him that he had the most balls of the whole group, complimenting him on his bravery. However, when he went to hug his mate, as soon as he came into contact with him, he felt a strange sensation running through his whole body, as if the touch with Stu was causing some strange chemical reaction in his entire system. Mike went to pull away from Stu, trying to get away from whatever seemed to have triggered that sensation in the first place. However, before he could do anything, and in just an instant, he noticed how his body suddenly began to dissolve, and before the astonished gaze of the rest of his colleagues, in just 5 seconds all that was left of Mike was a green mass at Stu's feet, next to his clothes.

Stu looked with a malevolent smile at what a few moments ago was his best friend, and with a slight gesture of his finger, he ordered that green mass to come to him. Magically, that mass that was once Mike began to move swiftly, climbing up Stu's body as it began to seep out of all his pores, as Stu let out a slight moan, clearly enjoying the sensation. In a moment, there was nothing left of that mass, totally absorbed by every muscle in his body, taking advantage of those nutrients to grow larger and larger. After absorbing his friend, Stu was beginning to look like a professional bodybuilder, as the green tone on his skin began to spread all over his body. After finishing off his first target, Stu looked up at the rest of his buddies, and with a chilling smile and started walking towards the next of his friends as he began to say in a deep voice that echoed through the bodies of his future prey "Oooooh, thanks for that challenge guys, I've definitely felt great after taking a dive. But all of a sudden I feel the need to soak up more mass and get bigger and more muscular, why don't you guys just give in to me and melt into my body? It's the least you could do after I've completed your challenge."

Before his colleagues could even start running, Stu pounced on them, enveloping the three of them in a hug with his huge, muscular arms. They would simply be the first additions to his ascent, but Stu had big plans in mind. Mankind didn't know what monster had just awakened, and before they could realize the danger they were in, it would be too late, because Stu, or as the rest of humanity would soon come to know him, the insatiable green beast, was going to harness each and every one of these delicious humans to melt them into his body. Soon all life on planet earth would be turned into mere fuel for his body. But that would only be the beginning. The rest of the universe would tremble, knowing what was soon to come, a superior being that absorbed everything to ascend more and more, that would feel satiated only when it had absorbed every last atom of the galaxy.

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tearsof-scarlet · 3 months ago

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run run run - ethan landry

Pairing: Ethan Landry x female! reader

Warning: I wanted to make this more spooky/creepy than romantic. Therefore, Ethan can be pretty creepy in some parts, also yandere (?) This is your warning!

TW: Gore, blood, swearing and slight mention of childhood issues (one sentence)

Summary: You have been noticing Ethan’s eyes on you whenever you are with him and your friends. As the college semester progresses, and ghost face’s murder count goes up you can’t help but notice Ethan’s strange demeanour and his interest in becoming closer to you.

note: offically 1st october yay! spooky season so i thought this was fitting

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to come to a party tonight?” you shouted at Mindy over the bass, your voice tight with unease. “This completely breaks your own horror movie rules, doesn’t it?”

Mindy laughed, the sound tinny and distant over the noise of the party. “Oh, come on, relax, ____. There’s like a hundred people here. We’re totally safe.” She shoved a red plastic cup into your hand, the liquid inside sloshing with something strong and biting.

She glanced at you, her smile fading when she saw the look on your face—your wide, nervous eyes darting toward the dark corners of the house, your shoulders tense, like you were waiting for something to happen. Something bad.

Mindy sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch warm but uncomfortably heavy. “Hey, I get it. You’ve been stressed out with school… and everything else.” Her voice lowered, almost like she didn’t want to say it out loud. “But tonight, we need to have fun. We won’t leave each other’s sight, okay? Promise.”

Her words hovered in the air like a faint breath, barely pushing away the gnawing unease coiling in your stomach. Still, you nodded, the fight draining from you. She was right, in a way. You’d been on edge for weeks now, barely sleeping, barely leaving your dorm. The murders had done that to everyone.

Three students. Brutally killed. The last one… she had lived in your hall. You could still hear the screams echoing in your mind, as if they were happening right now. That night had changed everything. You’d run out of your room, heart pounding, only to find her crumpled on the pavement, her blood spilling thick and dark onto the cold concrete. The smell of iron had filled the air, and the sound… the slow, wet drip of her blood as it pooled beneath her still body—it had frozen you in place.

The campus police had come too late. They always came too late.

Now, you locked yourself in your room, only leaving for class. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of a frat house, surrounded by pounding bass and laughter that felt too loud, too hollow, like everyone was trying to drown out the looming terror. You took a deep breath, raised your cup in a half-hearted toast to Mindy, and gulped down the drink.

After a few more, you began to loosen up, the alcohol dulling the edge of your fear. You danced with your friends, feeling the beat pulse through your body. For a moment, you let yourself forget—forget the screams, the blood, the shadow that seemed to hang over the campus like a curse. You were having fun again.

But after a while, the room grew stifling, the sweat slicking your skin. You tapped Tara on the shoulder. “I’m gonna get some air!” you shouted over the music.

Tara glanced at you, her brow furrowing. “You want me to come with?”

You followed her gaze to Chad, who stood behind her, their hands almost touching as they danced. They’d been pining for each other for months now, and you didn’t want to interrupt. “No, I’m fine,” you assured her, forcing a smile. “I won’t go far.”

Sliding through the packed bodies, you finally pushed through the door and stepped outside. The cold night air hit you hard, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering. The muted thump of the bass from inside faded into the background as you stared out into the darkness.

You pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as a message from Sam lit up. She was checking in on Tara, as usual. As you tapped out a reply, you heard it—the faint rustling of bushes nearby. Your heart skipped. You froze, staring into the dark.

The bushes shuddered again, a sharp, unnatural sound that sliced through the stillness. Your grip tightened on your phone. “Hello?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, swallowed by the heavy silence around you.

Nothing. The stillness pressed in, suffocating. Your fingers fumbled for the flashlight on your phone, the screen blurring as your hands shook. Just as you were about to turn it on, you felt it—a hand, cold and sudden, on your shoulder.

You spun around, your scream strangled in your throat as you staggered back, slamming into the wall behind you. A tall figure loomed before you, the dim streetlight casting long, sharp shadows over their face.

“Hey! Whoa, ____! It’s just me!”

Your breath came in ragged gasps as the figure stepped closer, their features sliding into focus. It was Ethan. His hands were raised in a placating gesture, but his presence was too sudden, too close.

“Ethan…” you breathed, still trying to calm the rapid pounding in your chest. Your eyes swept over him, your mind working through the fog of panic. Ethan was Chad’s roommate, the quiet guy from econ. He seemed harmless. Quiet. Almost forgettable.

He tilted his head, his lips curving into an awkward smile. “Yeah, uh… we have econ together, remember?” His voice sounded normal, but there was something off. Something that didn’t quite fit.

You nodded slowly, but your body remained tense. Something about the way he stood there, just outside the reach of the streetlight, sent a prickling sensation crawling up your spine.

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to laugh it off, though your voice sounded thin, hollow. “I guess I was… lost in my own world.”

Ethan chuckled softly, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flicking past you to the house, then back to the dark bushes. “Yeah… I called your name a couple of times, but you didn’t hear me.”

His words lingered in the air, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced at the bushes again, where the noise had come from. They were still now, but the uneasy feeling gnawed at the back of your mind.

And Ethan just stood there, watching you.

You chuckled nervously, glancing at Ethan. “I didn’t see you inside the party. Where were you?”

Ethan blinked, as if caught off guard by the question. “Oh, I actually just got here,” he explained, his voice calm but oddly flat.

You quickly checked your phone—12:45 a.m. It was late, too late to just be arriving. A strange unease curled in your gut. Something about it felt… off. Most people were already wasted by now, or had left.

“You’re a bit late, don’t you think?” you said with a forced laugh, trying to break the awkward silence hanging between you. “Why didn’t you come with Chad?”

There was a pause. Ethan’s eyes flickered, almost imperceptibly, down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “I had to finish Mr. Smith’s econ assignment. It took longer than I thought,” he said, too quickly. His tone was casual, but there was something in the way he said it that felt rehearsed, like he’d been waiting for you to ask.

Before you could press him about it, he cut you off, his voice light but a little too eager. “So, what are you doing out here all alone?”

“I just needed some air,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “The alcohol… it’s kind of hitting me.”

Ethan’s eyes stayed locked on you, and you noticed he’d moved closer, almost without you realizing. There was barely a foot between you now, his presence looming, the subtle scent of something you couldn’t place filling the space. “I didn’t really think of you as the drinking type,” he said softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the distant party. “I never see you at these things.”

He was closer now—too close. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the way his shadow seemed to stretch longer, darker, in the dim light. You swallowed, your throat dry. “Yeah, it’s not really my scene,” you said with a weak smile, your attempt at humor faltering. “Mindy dragged me here. I think she just wanted to… you know… get laid.”

You forced a laugh, but it felt strange, hollow, like the words were getting caught in the thick tension around you. Ethan didn’t laugh. He just watched you, his eyes gleaming in the faint light from the streetlamp, his lips curling into something that almost looked like a smile—but there was no warmth in it.

“Yeah… I bet she did,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, as he tilted his head slightly. The movement was slow, deliberate, like he was studying you. You tried to take a step back, but your back was already against the wall, the cold bricks pressing into your skin through your clothes.

You noticed then how quiet it had gotten. The bass from inside the house was still thumping, but it felt distant, muted, like you were trapped in a bubble, cut off from everything. The air felt heavier now, like it was pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Ethan’s gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable. “Funny how we’ve never really talked before, huh? Not until now.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. There was something unsettling in the way he said it, something that made your pulse quicken, your instincts screaming at you to run. But his body blocked your path, his presence too large, too close. And as he stood there, smiling that strange, empty smile, you realized that despite the noise, the people, the lights—you were completely alone with him.

Ethan's gaze lingered on you, his smile too controlled, too deliberate. “You know,” he continued, his voice low, almost conspiratorial, “I’ve always noticed you in class. You’ve got this… quiet thing going on. It’s kind of mysterious.”

The compliment landed wrong, like a piece of shattered glass, sharp and cutting. You tried to force a smile, but the tension was becoming suffocating. You shifted, desperate to break the eye contact, to shake off the eerie feeling gnawing at your nerves.

“Uh, thanks… I guess?” you mumbled, trying to sound casual. The words felt flimsy, weak, like they were getting lost in the fog of the darkened street.

Ethan stepped closer, his breath warm on your skin now, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “It’s nice to see you outside of that classroom. I think we’d get along well… outside of school, you know?”

Maybe it was because you both never talked but you didn’t realise how handsome Ethan was. Your face flushed at his words. Your stomach twisted as your pulse quickened.

Before you could respond, the door burst open with a loud creak, and Mindy stumbled out, giggling. “Oh, there you are!” she slurred, her voice way too loud in the eerie quiet. She didn’t notice the tension clinging to the air between you and Ethan.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” she hiccuped, making her way over, nearly tripping over her own feet. “I think I’m ready to go home. You coming?” She leaned heavily on you, the smell of alcohol strong on her breath as she swayed, oblivious to the way Ethan’s expression had shifted, the smile slipping from his face, replaced by something cold and unreadable.

Your heart raced, relief flooding through you as you felt the weight of her body against yours. “Yeah, let’s go,” you said quickly, forcing a smile as you gently peeled yourself away from Ethan’s proximity. “It’s getting late.”

Ethan’s gaze flicked between the two of you, his smile returning but now strained, his eyes darker. “Leaving already?” he asked, his voice casual, but something sharp lurked beneath it. “I thought we were just starting to have fun.”

Mindy snorted, completely unaware of the tension. “Oh please, fun can wait until tomorrow! I’m totally wasted.”

You gave Ethan a tight smile, your heart still pounding. “Yeah, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” you echoed, though the last thing you wanted was to see him again.

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything, just watched as you turned away with Mindy. The chill in the air felt sharper now, like icy fingers brushing against your skin. As you walked away, you could feel his eyes boring into your back, the weight of his stare following you down the dark street.

And just before you crossed the threshold of the house, Mindy tugging you inside, you risked one last glance over your shoulder.

Ethan was still standing there, his figure barely visible in the shadows, his smile gone. His eyes gleamed under the streetlamp, locked on you, unblinking, as if he were watching and waiting for something only he knew was coming.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache, the dull throb of a hangover pulsing behind your eyes. The room spun slightly as you blinked into the dim light, trying to piece together fragments of the night before. Mindy was sprawled next to you on the couch, still out cold, her hair a mess, and her phone clutched loosely in her hand. The sound of muffled voices drifted from outside your apartment door, but you were too groggy to make sense of them.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your temples and groaning. The room felt too quiet, too still, after the chaos of the party. For a moment, everything seemed normal, and you almost let yourself forget the creeping sense of dread that had followed you all night.

Just as you were about to lie back down, the door burst open, and Sam, Tara, and Chad hurried in, their faces pale and grim. Tara looked especially shaken, her hands trembling as she pushed her hair out of her face.

“What the hell—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat when you saw their expressions.

Sam, always the calm one, stepped forward, her eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that sent a chill down your spine. “You heard what happened last night, right?”

You frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Chad closed the door behind them, his face unusually somber. “There was another murder,” he said, his voice low. “Just a block from the party. They found a student—his throat was slashed.”

Your stomach dropped. You glanced at Mindy, who was starting to stir, but her groggy movements felt far away as the weight of Chad’s words settled over you.

“What?” you whispered, feeling the blood drain from your face. “Who—who was it?”

Sam swallowed; her voice carefully controlled. “Noah. From your economics class.”

The world seemed to tilt as the name hit you like a punch to the gut. Noah. You blinked, trying to process what they were telling you. Noah, the funny guy from class, the one you used to crush on. The guy you hadn’t thought about in months, suddenly gone.

You stared at them; your mouth dry. “Noah? But I—” You trailed off, your mind racing. Noah. You’d passed him in the halls, seen him during class, always on the edges of your thoughts but never close enough to matter. And now… now he was dead?

“When?” Mindy mumbled groggily, finally waking up, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “What’s going on?”

Tara bit her lip, her eyes filled with worry. “Last night. Before we left the party. It happened not far from where you guys were. It could’ve been one of us.”

You shivered, flashes of last night coming back in fragmented images. The party. The alcohol. The darkness outside. And Ethan… standing there under the streetlamp, watching you with that strange, lingering look. But none of you suspected him. Why would you? Ethan was quiet, awkward even. Harmless. You hadn’t even really thought about him when you left the party, your mind too occupied with getting Mindy home and crashing for the night.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I… I didn’t even hear anything,” you stammered. “We were right there.”

Chad crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “None of us did. It must’ve happened after the party started dying down.”

Sam stepped closer, her expression grim. “You knew him, right? Noah?”

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy with the weight of the name. “Yeah… we had econ together. We weren’t close or anything, but… I used to have a crush on him. A long time ago.”

Tara sighed, her voice soft with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, ____. This is messed up. First the other murders, and now this? What if the killer is still around? What if they’re targeting more people?”

You bit your lip, the knot of fear tightening in your chest. The thought of the killer being that close… of someone hunting students like prey, sent a shiver down your spine. Noah’s face flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder—had he been scared? Had he known what was coming?

“I… I need a minute,” you muttered, standing abruptly. Sam reached out as if to stop you, but you pulled away, your thoughts swirling too fast to keep up. “I just need some air, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed your bag and slipped out the door. The cool hallway air hit your skin, but it didn’t do much to calm your racing mind. The echoes of the conversation, of another person’s death, followed you down the stairs and into the street. The bustling campus felt distant, as if everything had slowed, the reality of another murder dragging you into a fog of anxiety.

The library was where you ended up, the one place that had always helped you focus. The quiet, the smell of old books, the heavy silence — it usually worked like a balm for your nerves. But not today. You slid into one of the back study booths, pulled out your econ notes, and stared blankly at the words. Your mind was far from the pages in front of you.

The quiet in the library should have been comforting, but it was almost too quiet. The silence was thick, unsettling. Every creak of a chair or shuffle of papers seemed amplified, and you kept glancing up, half-expecting someone to be watching you.

You shook your head, trying to shove the creeping paranoia aside. You had to keep it together, for your sake and for your friends’. With a campus killer still out there, you had to be on guard.

But then, the sound of footsteps broke through the quiet, slow and deliberate, heading in your direction. You looked up, and there, standing just a few feet from your booth, was Ethan.

His expression was cautious, his eyes scanning the empty tables around you before settling on yours. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost too soft for the silence of the library.

Your stomach clenched, the eerie feeling from last night creeping back. You hadn’t seen him at the party after that strange conversation outside, and now here he was, showing up again when you were alone.

“Hey,” you said, forcing a tight smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Ethan shrugged, his hands shoved into his pockets as he shifted on his feet. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to catch up on some work. Thought I’d check in on you, though… I heard about Noah. It's messed up.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as your eyes flicked back to your notes. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe it.”

He didn’t sit down, but he leaned slightly against the edge of the table, his eyes never leaving you. “Were you guys close?”

You shook your head. “Not really… we had classes together. That’s it.”

Ethan’s face was hard to read, his concern genuine, but there was something off, something that didn’t sit right. Maybe it was just the paranoia creeping in again, but the fact that he was here, now, of all places, unsettled you.

“I mean,” you continued, “it’s just… I don’t know, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” You tried to focus on your notes, but his presence made it impossible to concentrate.

“I get it,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It's scary. A lot of people are on edge right now. I guess you were pretty close to where it happened, too.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of last night flashing in your mind — the way Ethan had appeared out of nowhere under the streetlamp. “Yeah… I guess we were.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze a little too intense, lingering on your face. “You sure you’re okay? You look… tense.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the lie slipping out before you could think. “Just a lot to process.”

Ethan frowned, his eyes flicking to your hands, which were gripping your pen a little too tightly. “If you ever need to talk… I’m around.”

You forced another smile. “Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it.”

But even as the words left your mouth, a part of you screamed to get away. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t quite place it. Maybe it was the fact that Noah had just been murdered, or maybe it was the way Ethan kept showing up, always just on the edge of things.

Before he could say anything else, you packed up your notes. “I should get going,” you said, standing abruptly. “Got a lot of studying to do.”

“Wait,” Ethan said quickly as you turned to leave. “Let me walk you home. I don’t think it’s safe to be out here alone right now.”

You hesitated for a moment, a part of you wanting to refuse out of stubbornness, but the darkness outside felt heavy, and the unease gnawing at your gut pushed you to accept. “Okay,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “That’d be… nice.”

As you stepped out of the library, the chill in the air was sharper than before. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, glancing sideways at Ethan, who fell into step beside you. The shadows from the trees danced eerily in the dim streetlights, and a part of you felt relieved to have him there.

“I can’t believe another student was murdered,” you said, trying to break the silence. “It’s terrifying. I didn’t think it would hit this close to home.”

Ethan nodded, his expression somber. “I know. It’s crazy to think we were all just at that party, and now…” He trailed off, and you could sense the weight of the situation hanging over both of you.

As you walked, you started to relax a little, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease with each step. Ethan smiled faintly. “It’s strange how quickly things can change, isn’t it? One moment, you’re just living your life, and the next, it’s like the ground gets pulled out from under you.”

You glanced at him, surprised by how relatable he was being. “Yeah, exactly. It makes you realize how fragile everything is.”

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the distant laughter from the campus and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It felt oddly comforting to share this moment, and you found yourself more at ease with him than before.

As you approached your apartment building, Ethan turned to you, his expression earnest. “You know, if you ever need someone to walk you home or just… hang out, you can text me. I don’t mind being your personal escort.” He chuckled lightly, and the warmth in his tone made you smile.

“Really?” you asked, surprised by the offer. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to put you out or anything.”

Ethan shrugged, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. “It’s not a problem at all. I’d feel better knowing you’re safe. Besides, it gives me an excuse to hang out with you more.”

There was a brief pause, and you could feel your heart flutter slightly at his words. “Okay, I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to know I have someone to walk with.”

He pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a number, then handed it to you. “Here, just in case. Text me if you need anything. I mean it.”

You took the phone, your fingers brushing against his as you typed in your number. A small thrill coursed through you, but the tension in the back of your mind was still there, whispering caution. “Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Just stay safe, alright? I’ll be around.”

You nodded, watching as he walked away, a strange mix of comfort and unease settling in your stomach. The night felt darker now, but somehow less lonely with the thought that you had someone looking out for you. Yet the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right lingered in the air, a shadow that refused to be ignored.

As you entered your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that while Ethan might seem harmless, the world outside was anything but. You locked the door behind you and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath, reminding yourself to stay alert. With a killer still on the loose, it was more important than ever to watch your back.

The silence in your apartment felt heavy as you settled onto the couch, trying to shake off the remnants of the day. Mindy had gone out with Anika, leaving you alone, and while a part of you relished the quiet, another part was restless. The unsettling news about Noah echoed in your mind, refusing to fade into the background.

Just as you reached for the TV remote, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen, surprised to see an unknown number. Hesitating for a moment, you answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, ____” a voice purred, low and taunting. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the sinister tone that sent shivers down your spine.

“Who is this?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear creeping in.

“You don’t know who I am?” the voice teased, dripping with menace. “I just wanted to check in on you. Heard you were scared. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’m going to enjoy ripping your skin apart.”

The threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, your heart racing. “You think you can scare me? You’re pathetic,” you shot back, surprising yourself with your own bravado. “How about you actually do something and come get me.”

“Me do something?” the voice on the other end laughed, “I saw you standing there watching that poor girl bleed out. Didn’t really look like you were doing much to help her, hm?”

The hand holding your phone began to shake bringing up the memory. “You fucking asshole.” You swore as your voice shook.

A pause followed, and the voice chuckled softly. “I love it when you play tough. It makes this even more exciting.”

“Show your face you fucking coward!”

Just then, the door to Mindy’s room creaked open, and your heart stopped. Out burst a figure clad in a Ghostface costume, the mask reflecting the dim light of the room, a glint of a knife in hand. Panic surged as you realized that you hadn’t checked that room all day.

Without thinking, you bolted from the couch, instinct taking over as you lunged for the nearest kitchen chair. The figure rushed at you, the blade aimed right for your gut, but you were faster. You swung the chair hard, knocking him off balance. Although he missed your stomach, it didn’t stop the blade from slicing your cheek as he stumbled.

You screamed feeling the blood dripping down your face, adrenaline pushing you to fight back.

The assailant stumbled back, momentarily caught off guard. You seized the opportunity and swung the chair again, this time connecting with his shoulder, making him grunt in surprise.

Despite his height and strength, you were determined. You could see the flash of annoyance beneath the mask, and that fuelled your fight. He lunged again, but you ducked just in time, the blade slicing through the air where you’d just been standing. You grabbed a nearby knife from the counter, holding it defensively in front of you.

The Ghostface figure paused, seeming to weigh his options. Slowly he lifted his voice changer “You’re braver than I thought,” he said, the amusement in his voice clear even through the mask.

He ran cornering you in the kitchen, grabbing your wrist and attempting to twist the knife from your grasp. You fought against his grip, adrenaline surging as you twisted your body and kicked him in the knee. He staggered back, the knife slipping from your hand but not before you landed another blow against his side.

You heard him growl under the mask, but there was a hint of surprise in his voice. You were stronger than he had anticipated.

You quickly glanced around, searching for anything to help you. The phone! You needed to call for help. You darted toward the living room, but he was right on your heels.

With every ounce of determination, you turned to face him again, prepared to fight.

He lunged again, and you barely managed to sidestep, shoving him hard enough to send him crashing to the floor. The knife clattered away, its metallic sound echoing in the silence of the apartment. Your heart raced as you scrambled to grab it, but before you could reach it, you felt a grip around your ankle, yanking you back down to the floor with a brutal thud. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and you gasped, struggling to catch your breath as you looked over.

Ghostface was rising from the ground, his silhouette dark and menacing. Panic surged through you as you reached for the knife again, your fingertips just grazing its handle. If only you could stretch a little further. But before you could grasp it, a heavy black leather boot crushed down on your hand, eliciting a shriek of agony from your lips. The masked figure loomed over you, his eyes locked onto yours as he snatched the knife from the floor, a glimmer of triumph flashing in the dim light.

He straddled you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, leaving you utterly helpless. The ghostly mask was a mere breath away, its hollow eyes boring into your soul. Terror coursed through you, your body writhing beneath him as exhaustion threatened to pull you under.

With a sickening gentleness, he brushed a hand along the open gash on your cheek, spreading the blood across your skin like a twisted artist painting his masterpiece. You cringed, disgust and fear mingling in your gut, as he raised the knife, the blade catching the light and reflecting it back at you in a wicked flash.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he traced the knife down your jawline, then across your chest, the cold steel drawing dangerously close to your heart. Just as he lifted the knife above his head, preparing to plunge it down, a thunderous banging erupted from the front door, drowning the room in chaos. Keys jangled, and frantic voices shouted your name, echoing through the apartment.

Ghostface froze, the knife suspended in the air, his breath coming in sharp, angry huffs as he glanced toward the noise. You could almost feel the anger radiating off him, the momentary distraction breaking his focus. His eyes narrowed as he weighed his options, the dark mask hiding a tempest of rage and frustration beneath.

The eyes of his masks bore into you, a sinister promise lingering in the air that he would return to finish you off. Slowly, he backed away, the blade still glinting ominously in his grasp, leaving you gasping for breath on the floor, the taste of fear lingering on your tongue. You could only watch as he melted into the shadows, knowing he would return.

Before you could respond, he darted towards Mindy’s room, you heard the sound of the killer throwing the window open just as you heard the pounding of footsteps outside your door.

You stood there, heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. The reality of what just happened crashed down on you, but you weren’t going to let fear consume you. You had fought back, and you were still standing.

As the door burst open and Mindy, Anika, and a couple of campus security officers rushed in, you turned to them still on the ground, shaking but resolute. “Oh my god ____!” Mindy yelled. “Are you alright?”

“Did you really have to leave your window open?” You half joked to her closing your eyes about to pass out from exhaustion.

The night was far from over, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t going to let fear control you. You would fight back, no matter the cost.

The next morning, the sunlight barely broke through the curtains, casting a muted glow in your apartment. The events of last night played on a loop in your mind, the terror still fresh as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, sitting on the couch with trembling hands.

A knock on the door startled you, and your heart raced again. Cautiously, you got up and peeked through the peephole. Relief washed over you when you saw Ethan standing there, a box of donuts in his hands, looking slightly dishevelled but earnest.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. “Hey,” you greeted, trying to mask your unease with a half-smile.

“Hey! I brought you some donuts,” he said, lifting the box in a gesture of goodwill. “Thought you might need some comfort food after… everything.”

You stepped aside to let him in, the warmth of his presence both comforting and disquieting. As he settled on the kitchen island, you could feel the tension still lingering in the air between you. Ethan opened the box, revealing an array of sugary treats. “I figured these would help brighten your day,” he said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Thanks,” you replied, grabbing a donut but not really feeling like eating. “It’s really sweet of you.”

He took a bite of a donut, flashing a smile, but the moment felt strained. You could sense his concern, but all you could think about was the adrenaline and fear still coursing through your veins from last night. Finally, the unease bubbled to the surface, and you cut through the pleasantries. “Where were you last night, Ethan?”

His expression changed instantly, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something unreadable. “What do you mean?” he asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“I just… I didn’t see you. I thought maybe you were around,” you said, your voice trembling a little, unsure of where this was heading.

A shadow passed over his face, and he leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest. “You don’t think it was me that attacked you, do you?”

The question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel your heart race again, the way he said it made you question everything. “I—” you stammered, but the thought had already taken root in your mind. You couldn’t help but make note of Ethan next to the kitchen knives.

“I mean, I was just worried about you,” he continued, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of defensiveness. “I didn’t know what was happening until Chad called me.”

“Right, but…” you hesitated, searching his face for any signs of deceit. “You know I was attacked, and it just feels… strange that you’re here right after it happened.”

Ethan’s expression hardened, the playful demeanour falling away completely. “Strange? Because I care about you?” His tone had shifted, and the tension in the room was palpable, wrapping around you like a rope.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words and the implications behind them. “I just… I don’t know who to trust right now,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan held your gaze, his eyes piercing as if trying to gauge your sincerity. “I would never hurt you,” he said firmly, the conviction in his voice sending chills down your spine. “You know that, right?”

You wanted to believe him, but the events of last night played back in your mind, and the uncertainty clawed at your insides. “It’s just hard to feel safe,” you replied, dropping your gaze to the floor, the donuts forgotten between you.

He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, and you flinched at the sudden contact, your body still on high alert. “I get it. I do. But I’m here for you, and I promise I’ll help you feel safe,” he said, the earnestness returning to his voice.

As you looked up at him, the doubt still lingered, swirling in the back of your mind. You wanted to trust him, but fear was a powerful force, twisting your thoughts and making you question everything, even the intentions of those closest to you.

Ethan's gaze softened as he searched your eyes, the tension in the room slowly ebbing. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in,” he began, his voice low and steady. “But there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve wanted to say for a long time.”

Your heart raced, anticipation and fear swirling within you. “What is it?” you asked, your breath hitching slightly.

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’ve always liked you,” he confessed, his tone sincere. “Since the first time we met in class, I thought you were amazing. Smart, funny... just… you.”

The admission caught you off guard, a rush of emotions flooding through you. “Ethan, I—” you started, but he quickly cut you off.

“Please, let me finish,” he urged, his intensity making you feel exposed and vulnerable. “When I heard about what happened, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I was scared, and I realized how much I care about you. I didn’t want to admit it before, but now… with everything happening, it feels wrong not to.”

Your mind raced as his words hung in the air. You’d always found Ethan intriguing, his easy charm and confidence drawing you in. But now, faced with the reality of the threat that loomed over you, emotions were tangled in a chaotic mess.

“I appreciate you saying that,” you replied, your voice trembling. “But right now, I’m just trying to process everything. It’s hard to think about… feelings when I’m just trying to stay alive.”

“I get that,” he said, his expression shifting to one of understanding. “But I want to help you. If it means being there for you, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m not just saying this because of what happened last night; I genuinely want to be part of your life.”

You felt your defences waver as you looked into his eyes, seeing a sincerity that calmed some of the fear gripping you. “And what if it was you?” you asked quietly, still grappling with your thoughts. “What if you’re just saying this now to—”

“Shh,” he interrupted softly, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I promise you, it wasn’t me. I couldn’t hurt you, not now, not ever. Please believe that.” His grip was firm, a grounding force amidst the chaos in your mind.

As the weight of his words settled, you found a flicker of comfort in his touch. “I want to believe you, Ethan. It’s just… everything feels so twisted right now. I need time.”

“Take all the time you need,” he assured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles soothingly. “But I’ll be here. Whenever you need someone to talk to, or even if you just want company, I’ll be here.”

You nodded slowly, grateful for his support but still wary. The confession lingered between you, adding complexity to your relationship in a time of crisis. “Thanks for the donuts, by the way,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “They might be exactly what I need right now.”

A small smile broke through his serious facade. “Just trying to make sure you’re taken care of,” he replied, his voice warmer now.

You both shared a brief laugh, the tension in the air easing slightly, but beneath it all, the fear remained—a reminder that danger still lurked outside your door. As you sat there, hand in hand, you knew that while you were still scared, you had someone willing to stand by you through the darkness.

As the silence stretched between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions, you both locked eyes, a magnetic pull drawing you closer. Ethan’s gaze flickered over your face, pausing at your lips, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

Without thinking, you both lunged toward each other, colliding in a rush of warmth and urgency. The kiss was electric, igniting a spark that sent a thrill coursing through you. You could taste the sweetness of the donuts on his lips, mingling with the desperation of the moment. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the connection as your bodies pressed together.

You melted into him, the chaos of the night before fading into the background. This was a moment of escape, a breath of fresh air amidst the horror. His lips moved against yours with a passion that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It felt as though everything around you had vanished, leaving only the two of you in this intimate bubble.

Ethan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breaths mingling in the shared space between you. “Wow,” he whispered, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, your heart racing. The heat of the kiss lingered on your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile. “But it felt… right.”

“Yeah, it really did.” He searched your face, his expression earnest. “I just want you to know, whatever happens next, I’m here for you. Not just because of… everything going on, but because I want to be.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of affection for him. “I appreciate that, Ethan. I really do.” The weight of his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you felt a sense of safety in his presence.

Before you could say more, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, breaking the moment. Your heart sank slightly, the reality of the situation crashing back in. “I think Mindy and Anika are back,” you said, glancing toward the door.

Ethan nodded, the momentary intimacy still hanging in the air as he pulled back, his hands reluctantly leaving your waist. “Let’s talk more later?” he suggested, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Definitely,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth. You could sense that this was just the beginning, and despite the lingering fear, a spark of hope flickered in your chest.

Just then, the door swung open, and Mindy entered, her face a mix of concern and relief. “Hey, you two! I hope we’re not interrupting anything too serious…” She trailed off, a teasing smile forming as she glanced between you and Ethan.

You exchanged a quick, sheepish look with Ethan, the reality of the moment settling in. “Just… talking,” you said, trying to play it cool.

Mindy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but willing to let it slide. “Well, good. Because we need to figure out what our next steps are. We can’t let that creep get away with what he did.”

Ethan nodded, his demeanour shifting back to seriousness. “Absolutely. We need to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe.”

As you shifted back to the reality of the situation, you couldn’t shake the warmth of the kiss and the promise of what was to come. You were still scared, but you weren’t alone anymore.

You gathered in the living room, the atmosphere tense but charged with a newfound determination. Ethan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, while Mindy paced in front of the group, her eyes alight with purpose. Sam and Tara exchanged anxious glances, while Chad fiddled nervously with his phone. Sam stood at the center, ready to take charge.

“Okay, listen up,” Sam said, raising her voice to draw everyone’s attention. “We need a plan. We can’t let Ghostface get to any of us again.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “If we stick together, we have a better chance of trapping him. We can’t let him pick us off one by one.”

Chad nodded eagerly. “Yeah, if we can lure him out somehow, we can catch him off guard. I mean, he’s just a person, right? We can take him. Sam found a place we can use as a base. It’s an old house out in the woods. We can fortify it and use it as a safe zone.”

Ethan straightened; his expression serious. Mindy raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “An occupied home? You’re sure it’s safe?”

Sam nodded. “I did some research. It’s been vacant for a while, and it’s far enough away from campus that we can keep a low profile. We can set up defenses and make a plan to draw Ghostface in.”

Tara chimed in, her voice steady. “I like it. We can set up cameras, make sure we know when he’s around. We can create distractions if he tries to sneak up on us.”

You felt a flicker of hope as the group rallied around the idea. Everyone was on board, and for the first time since the attack, you felt a sense of unity. You exchanged a glance with Ethan, and he gave you a reassuring nod.

“Let’s gather what we need,” Sam continued, her voice firm. “We’ll head to the house, set up defenses, and then we can discuss how we want to draw him out. This ends tonight.”

As the group began to disperse, you felt a rush of adrenaline. The fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but with your friends by your side, you felt like you could face anything.

“Hey,” Ethan said, catching your arm before you left the room. “Are you okay? I mean… after everything.”

You smiled softly, grateful for his concern. “I’m hanging in there. But I’ll be better once we put a stop to this.”

He grinned, the tension easing between you. “Good. We’ll figure this out together.”

As the others gathered supplies and made plans, you felt a mix of anxiety and determination. This was your chance to take control, to reclaim your life and confront the horror that had invaded your world.

Later that evening, you all piled into a couple of cars, the air thick with a sense of urgency. As you drove away from campus, the shadows of the trees loomed ominously, but you felt a spark of hope lighting the way. You were no longer just running scared — you were ready to fight back.

When you finally arrived at the house, its dark silhouette against the night sky sent a chill down your spine. But you reminded yourself of the goal. Inside, you would find a way to take down Ghostface once and for all.

As you stepped inside, the creaky floorboards groaned beneath your feet, and you shared a nervous glance with the group. This was it. Time to prepare. Time to take a stand.

The atmosphere inside the old house was tense as you all set up makeshift defences. Knives were scattered across surfaces, each of you staying close to one another, forming a protective circle. The flickering lights cast unsettling shadows on the walls, heightening the feeling of unease.

As you went through your makeshift plans, Mindy suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing. “Did anyone else hear that?” she asked, her voice low and cautious.

Everyone fell silent, straining to listen. The faint creak of the floorboards echoed from the other side of the house, sending a shiver down your spine. Sam exchanged worried glances with the group, her brows furrowed in concern. “We need to split up and check it out,” she decided, though you could hear the reluctance in her tone.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tara interjected; her voice tinged with anxiety. “What if it’s Ghostface?”

“We’ll be careful,” Sam reassured, her voice steady. “We can cover more ground this way. Just keep your phones on and stay in contact.”

Reluctantly, you all agreed. You formed smaller groups to search the house, your heart racing as you and Ethan ended up together, the two of you making your way to a secluded area of the building that seemed to grow darker with each step.

“Great,” you muttered, trying to shake off the unease. “Just the two of us in the creepy part of the house.”

Ethan smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least we have knives,” he said, gesturing to the weapon in your hand. But as you glanced at him, his demeanor shifted. The playfulness faded, replaced by something darker.

“So… who do you think Ghostface is?” he asked, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. “I mean, do you have any suspects?”

You felt a chill run down your spine. His gaze was intense, studying you as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “Could be anyone, right?”

Ethan stepped closer, invading your personal space, and the mood shifted again. “But what if it’s someone we know?” His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see a hint of something unsettling in them. “What if it’s someone we trust?”

You shifted uncomfortably, the walls of the secluded area feeling like they were closing in on you. “Ethan, this isn’t really the time for this kind of talk,” you said, your heart racing.

He didn’t step back, though; instead, he leaned in a little closer. “I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know? There’s a lot at stake here. I mean, do you really think any of us are safe?”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you took a step back, trying to maintain your composure. “I think we’ll be fine as long as we stick together. That’s what we agreed on.”

He tilted his head slightly, a strange smile curling on his lips. “Together, sure. But what if we’re not safe even in a group? What if Ghostface is just waiting for the right moment to pick us off?”

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. “I don’t want to think about that, Ethan. We need to stay focused on finding him.”

Ethan chuckled softly, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something menacing lurking beneath the surface. “You’re right. Focus is key. But just remember…” He leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice. “Trust can be a dangerous game.”

Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed through the house, followed by frantic shouts from the others. Panic surged through you as adrenaline spiked, drowning out Ethan’s unsettling presence.

“Ethan, we need to go!” you urged, moving toward the sound of your friends’ voices. But he hesitated, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You didn’t have time for this. “Yes! Come on!” you shouted, your heart racing as you bolted toward the noise, the weight of uncertainty and dread settling heavily in your chest. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong, and you needed to get back to the others before it was too late.

Ethan’s hand clasped around yours as you both sprinted toward the sounds of your friends, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Each footstep echoed in the dimly lit halls, your heart racing with a mix of fear and determination.

“What did you hear?” you asked breathlessly, glancing back at him as you approached the living room where the others had gathered.

Chad looked up, his expression tense. “It sounded like something fell over. But now it’s… silent.”

You exchanged worried glances with Sam, Mindy, and Tara. “Shouldn’t we check it out?” you asked, a sense of foreboding creeping into your thoughts.

Ethan and Chad nodded at each other, an unspoken agreement passing between them. “We’ll go check the basement,” Ethan said, determination etched on his face. “You girls stay here. Just keep an eye out.”

As the two of them headed toward the basement door, you felt a mix of relief and anxiety wash over you. You turned to the girls, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Okay, we need to come up with a plan in case Ghostface shows up again.”

But just as you began to strategize, the sudden shrill ring of a phone cut through the stillness of the house, causing everyone to jump. You instinctively checked your pockets, and a sinking feeling filled your stomach when you realized it was your phone ringing.

“Oh no,” you whispered, the colour draining from your face as the familiar number flashed on the screen—an unknown caller.

“Don’t answer it!” Tara urged, but your hand moved almost instinctively to accept the call, your curiosity mingling with dread.

“Hello?” you managed, your voice shaky.

A chilling laugh echoed through the speaker, and you felt your blood run cold. “Poor ____,” Ghostface taunted, his voice dripping with malice. “I bet you think you’re really smart, thinking you and your friends can outsmart me.”

The tension in the room grew thick as Sam mouthed to you to keep him talking. The other girls glanced nervously around the room, ready to react at the slightest indication of danger.

“Why are you calling me?” you said, trying to sound braver than you felt. “What do you want?”

“Want?” he echoed mockingly. “I want you to feel that delicious thrill of fear. You should be grateful; I’m giving you a front-row seat to your own demise.”

Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “You won’t get away with this,” you said, attempting to sound strong. “We’re going to stop you.”

“Is that so?” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? Your little friends are scattered, and soon they won’t know what hit them. You’re all alone now.”

Your heart raced as you took a step back, feeling trapped in this conversation. The thought of being alone in this vast, dark house made your skin crawl. “You’re wrong. I’m not alone. My friends are here, and they’ll come for me.”

“Come for you?” he laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the line. “By the time they realize what’s really happening, it’ll be too late. They’re too busy playing their little games.”

As his words sunk in, your grip on the phone tightened. “What do you mean?” you asked, forcing yourself to stay engaged, though every instinct told you to hang up and run.

“Just that… your little heroes in the basement might find something they weren’t expecting. It’s always the last place you look, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitched at his words, realization dawning. You had to warn Ethan and Chad. “What did you do?” you demanded, feeling a mix of anger and fear bubbling within you.

“Let’s just say, your friends are in for a surprise. Tick tock, ____.”

You stared at the phone in shock, your heart racing, the ringing in your ears mingling with the chilling echo of Ghostface’s laughter still haunting you. “No… no…” you whispered, dread coiling tightly around your chest as the weight of panic settled in like a dark fog.

“What did he say?” Tara urged, stepping closer, her eyes wide with concern and fear.

“He’s messing with Ethan and Chad. We have to find them now!” you cried, urgency flooding your voice as you turned toward the basement door, dread gnawing at your gut.

“No, ____! You have to stay here and keep him talking,” Sam insisted, her voice sharp and firm, cutting through your panic.

You shook your head, the thought of having to endure another second of his taunts twisting like a knife in your heart. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can!” Mindy said, gripping your shoulders tightly, her gaze steady yet filled with urgency. “We’ll go check the basement. We have to make sure they’re safe.”

The tears you’d been holding back slipped down your cheeks, and you nodded reluctantly, understanding the weight of their decision. The thought of being alone, trapped in the dark, sent shivers down your spine, but the fear for Ethan and Chad pushed you to comply.

All three of them shared a final, encouraging look before rushing down the basement stairs, their voices echoing as they called out for Chad and Ethan. Your heart raced as you watched them disappear, the basement door swinging wide open—a sliver of safety in the enveloping darkness.

Now you were alone in the decaying house, the silence swallowing you whole, only the distant laughter of Ghostface echoing in your mind.

Taking a shaky breath, you steadied yourself and held the phone tightly, the weight of the ghostly presence looming over you. You needed to keep him engaged, to buy your friends time, but the thought of his voice on the line sent chills crawling up your spine.

“Hello?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with fear.

“Poor ____,” he crooned, the mockery in his tone sending a shiver of revulsion through you. “All alone now? Your precious friends can’t help you anymore.”

A surge of anger ignited within you, forcing you to push through the terror. “What do you want?” you spat, your voice trembling but fierce.

“I want you to feel that delicious thrill of fear, the kind that makes your heart race and your blood run cold. You’re all so naïve, thinking you can outsmart me.” His laughter bubbled through the line, sinister and echoing.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you lied, trying to mask the tremor in your voice, gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Is that so?” he teased, a dark amusement lurking in his words. “I can hear it in your voice. Your heart is pounding, and soon it will be pounding even faster.”

The oppressive silence of the house pressed in on you, each creak of the floorboards amplifying your dread. You could almost feel his presence lurking in the shadows, waiting, watching. You scanned all around the room listening for any noise.

“Where are they?” you demanded, forcing yourself to sound braver. “What have you done?”

“Where are they?” he echoed, mockingly. “Maybe they’re just playing hide and seek. Or maybe they’ve found a new game… one that ends with a little more blood.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the realization washed over you. “You won’t get away with this,” you hissed, desperation creeping into your words.

“Get away?” he laughed, the sound echoing around you like a haunting melody. “Oh, darling, I’m just getting started.”

As his mocking words echoed in your ears, the sudden sound of the basement door slamming shut jolted you into a state of pure terror. “No!” you screamed, instinctively moving toward the now locked door, panic surging through your veins. You pounded your fists against it, desperate to break it down.

“Take a step closer and I’ll kill them all,” Ghostface hissed, his voice cold and menacing.

“Please, don’t!” you pleaded, fear clawing at your throat. The realization of your friends being in danger wrapped around you like a snake, squeezing the air from your lungs.

He continued to taunt you, relishing in your desperation. “They’re so busy playing their little games, they won’t even know what hit them. You should have stayed quiet, ____.”

Each word dripped with malice, but as the panic began to simmer, a seething anger replaced your fear. “I swear to God I’ll kill you myself, you piece of shit!” you shouted, your voice filled with raw defiance.

In that moment, the door behind you swung open, and before you could react, Ghostface lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you. He lifted you effortlessly, pulling you away from the door, his grip like iron.

You struggled violently, twisting and turning, trying to break free from his grasp. “Let go of me!” you screamed, kicking and thrashing, but he held you tight, a sickening grin hidden beneath the mask.

Then you heard the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn, the metal whispering against the air, much larger than the knives you and your friends had brought. Your heart raced as he moved the knife toward your chest, the cold steel glinting ominously in the dim light.

Summoning every ounce of strength and adrenaline you could muster, you grabbed his wrist with both hands, forcing it away from your body. The blade grazed your skin, but you pushed with all your might, breaking his hold for just a moment.

In a last desperate attempt, you threw your head back, feeling the satisfying crunch of your skull meeting his face. He let out a surprised grunt and dropped you, the sudden release sending you tumbling to the floor.

You didn’t hesitate. You scrambled to your feet and bolted for the open door, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you raced down the hallway, heart pounding like a war drum in your chest.

You glanced back just in time to see Ghostface regaining his composure, fury etched into his movements as he lunged after you. The mask hid his expression, but you could feel the rage emanating from him like a dark cloud, fuelling your determination to escape.

You sprinted through the narrow corridors of the decaying house, fear pushing you forward as you sought an exit, a way to warn your friends, to regroup. The walls seemed to close in around you, shadows shifting and whispering, but you focused on the way ahead.

You could hear him gaining on you, the sound of his heavy boots thudding against the floor reverberating in your ears.

You were glancing around for any sign of your friends. The air felt thick with tension, and every shadow seemed to stretch ominously. “Sam! Mindy! Tara!” you shouted, your voice echoing as you scanned the room for any familiar faces.

There was no answer, just the haunting silence of the empty house. Panic surged anew as you realized you might be all alone against him, but you couldn’t let fear take control. You had to find a weapon, something to defend yourself with.

Spotting a heavy lamp in the corner, you dashed toward it. As you were about to grab it Ghostface busted to the room. The mask reflected the dim light, a twisted visage of intent and malice.

Instead of rushing toward you, Ghostface stood still, the blade hanging loosely at his side as he stared at you with a twisted tilt of his head. The silence stretched between you, the only sound being the frantic rhythm of your own breathing. Every instinct screamed for you to run, but the terror of the moment froze you in place, your heart pounding in your chest as acceptance of your fate slowly crept in.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision. “Who are you?” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling as you stared into the void of the mask, trying to find any sign of humanity within.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly reached for the mask, pulling it back to reveal his face. Your heart plummeted as you focused on the boyish charm and familiar brown locks of hair. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. It was Ethan Landry all along. The biggest grin you’d ever seen spread across his face, a twisted mix of joy and madness.

“Ethan?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, disbelief coursing through you.

“You know, ____ You should really know when to trust your instincts,” he said, a dark smirk playing on his lips. “Like sometimes I wasn’t even trying to hide it!”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You couldn’t bare to look at him. His words sent a shiver down your spine as the truth settled over you like a suffocating blanket. “You… you were in on this?” You felt the bile rise in your throat, anger mixing with confusion. “All this time, you were playing us? With me?”

Ethan stepped closer, the playful grin still plastered across his face, but the glint in his eyes was anything but friendly. “Oh, it was so easy.” He gestured around the room, the knife gleaming in his hand. “The trust you all had in me, it made this so much more fun. You have no idea how satisfying it is to watch you scramble for answers, to see you run in circles while I orchestrated everything from the shadows.”

“You killed people, Ethan. Innocent people. Why?” you gasped, your voice trembling with a mix of horror and disbelief.

Ethan sneered at you, his expression morphing into something darker. “Why did I do all this?” He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of any real humor. “Maybe I don’t have a reason. Maybe I’m just a psychopath who wanted to slash the necks of anyone who crossed my path. Maybe I have some fucked-up childhood that twisted me into this.” Continuing his rant, the air thick with tension. He finally paused taking a large step towards me pointing his knife at me.

“Or maybe it’s because the girl I loved for two years never took the time to know anything about me but my fucking name.”

His words struck you like a physical blow, your heart sinking at the weight of his confession. Ethan liked you all these years and never told you. Confusion and betrayal flooded your mind as you furrowed your brows, struggling to process the revelation. “But you never said anything” you stated, your voice shaking.

He took a step closer, the knife gleaming menacingly in his hand. All he had to do was reach out and the knife could easy bury into your stomach. “I always had a thing for you _____. So pretty and naïve. You were so busy with your perfect little life, your perfect little friends, that you never noticed me. I was always there, lurking in the background, waiting for my chance.” The anger in his voice was palpable, each word laced with bitterness. “And when I realized how easy it was to manipulate you all, I couldn’t resist. It was a rush like no other.”

Your heart raced as you processed his twisted proposal, his words wrapping around your mind like a noose. “So what are you going to do? Kill everyone?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear creeping into your chest.

Ethan sneered at you, his expression darkening. “Not everyone, princess,” he replied, his voice low and menacing. He traced the blade of his knife across the stitches on your cheek, the sharp metal sending a chill down your spine. “See, I’ve always loved you, and I can feel you like me too. Don’t try to deny it, ____.”

You flinched at his touch, the intimacy of the gesture feeling like a betrayal to your own senses. “You’re insane!” you gasped, trying to pull away from him, but he held you firmly in place.

“If you come with me, nobody has to die,” he continued, his tone shifting, becoming almost persuasive. “We can go somewhere far away. Just me and you.” His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing away your tears with a gentleness that felt horrifyingly out of place. “I can give you a perfect life. Just say yes.”

A surge of revulsion coursed through you, mixing with the grief and confusion swirling in your heart. “A perfect life?” you echoed, incredulity spilling from your lips. “You think this is love? You think dragging me into your madness is the answer?”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. “It doesn’t have to be this way, ____,” he whispered, a trace of desperation lacing his words. “I can protect you from everyone who’s ever hurt you. All I need is your trust.”

You felt your heart hammering against your ribcage, the gravity of his words weighing heavily on you. “Trust?” you replied, incredulous. “You’ve murdered people, Ethan! How could I ever trust you?”

A flicker of anger crossed his face, but it quickly transformed into something more sorrowful. “You don’t understand. You never have. I did this for us! To show you what true passion looks like, to free us from the shackles of normalcy.” He brushed your tears away with his thumb, and you recoiled at his touch. “Can’t you see? We’re meant to be together!”

Your mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare. “This isn’t love! This is obsession!” you shouted, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re deluding yourself if you think I could ever be with someone who does this!”

His expression hardened, the mask of charm slipping away, revealing the raw intensity of his twisted mind. “You’ll see. You’re just scared now, but once you’re free of those pathetic friends, you’ll understand.” He stepped back, holding the knife threateningly. “Say yes, and we can escape this together.”

You felt the weight of the knife’s threat looming over you, and a part of you wanted to cry, to scream. But another part of you—deep down—was ignited with a fierce resolve.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded, forcing a shaky smile in response to his expectant gaze. Ethan’s smile widened, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes as he took a breath, his enthusiasm palpable. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I need to hear you say it back. Say you love me.”

With as much sincerity as you could muster, you forced the words out, “I love you, Ethan.”

You watched as his eyes glistened, emotion swelling within him. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, his voice tender, almost vulnerable.

Without warning, he pressed his lips against yours, and you felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat. Fighting every instinct to push him away, you placed one hand gently on his chest, trying to connect despite the revulsion gnawing at your insides. The moment stretching out as you struggled to accept the twisted affection he was offering. As he deepened the kiss, your other hand snaked around your back.

When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed with a mix of excitement and something darker. “Time to go,” he said, his expression a blend of eagerness and anticipation.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yes, time to go,” you repeated, hoping to buy yourself a moment longer.

Before he could react, adrenaline surged through you. In one swift motion, you grabbed the heavy lamp beside you and slammed it into the side of his head. The loud crash of glass echoed through the room, accompanied by Ethan’s startled yell, jolting your body into action.

He fell to the floor, agony etched across his face, momentarily stunned. Without hesitation, you yanked the knife from his weakened grasp, the cold steel feeling heavy in your hand. Channelling your rage and fear, you straddled him, pinning him down as you watched his face covered in deep red blood and glass shards.

Ethan’s eyes, once filled with twisted affection, now reflected shock and confusion as he realized the tables had turned. This time you were on top of him, and he was below you. As he opened his mouth to speak, you didn’t give him the chance. With a fierce resolve, you plunged the knife down into the center of his chest, feeling the resistance of flesh and bone.

His breath caught in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as he stared up at you in disbelief. You could see the flicker of life dimming in his eyes, the realization of his fate settling in. In that moment, the weight of your actions bore down on you, a mix of horror and relief flooding your senses. You had fought back, and you wouldn’t let him take you down with him. As his body went limp beneath you, you felt a surge of strength, knowing you did it. You had survived. It was over.

As you caught your breath you stared down at Ethan. A very charming young man who maybe you could have seen being with. Swallowing you brushed his curls away from his face. Why you did this, you do not know.

Before you could do anything else you heard the sound of the basement door being bashed open. Breaking from your thoughts, you jumped up and ran to the door, your heart racing as the panic-laden voices of your friends flooded your ears.

“____!” Mindy yelled, urgency threading through her words. “It is Ethan! He stabbed Chad, but he’s going to be okay!”

“Relax!” you told everyone, your exhaustion weighing heavily on you. “He’s gone. He’s in that room.”

Sam nodded, determination etched on her face as she made her way toward the room where Ethan lay. Mindy and Tara rushed to surround you, enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Tara asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you replied, the relief washing over you like a soothing wave. “Now that everything is over.”

Suddenly, you heard Sam’s voice ringing out, filled with confusion and urgency. “____, there’s no one here!”

Time seemed to freeze as an icy chill gripped your veins. You immediately raised yourself up and sprinted to the room where you had left him. The sight that greeted you made your heart plummet. What should have been the aftermath of a struggle was now nothing more than a splatter of blood and shattered glass on the floor.

Your stomach churned, but instead of panic, a weary sigh escaped your lips as you lowered your shoulders, your mind racing with disbelief. “He won’t be back,” you told Sam, trying to project strength even as doubt crept in.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes, not when I’m here,” you asserted, conviction igniting a flame within you. With that, you turned and walked out of the building, leaving behind the remnants of the nightmare that had just unfolded.

Outside, the cold night air filled your lungs, and you took a moment to ground yourself, closing your eyes and letting the world come back into focus. Mindy and Tara walked beside you, their hands clasped tightly, a silent support system as you processed the chaos that had just occurred.

“We need to get Chad to the hospital,” Mindy said, glancing at you with a mix of concern and determination.

“Right,” you replied, your voice steadying. “Let’s do that.”

As you made your way to the car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you felt a weight lifting off your shoulders. You had fought back. You had survived. But the echoes of the night would linger in your mind for a long time.

As everyone jumped into the car, you felt an unsettling rumble echoing behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. The sound crept through the night air, emerging from the dense shadows of the bushes nearby. Heart pounding, you turned to stare into the darkness, instinctively holding your breath as dread clawed at your throat.

Mindy, her voice laced with concern, broke the tense silence. “_____, is everything okay?”

You paused, your heart racing in your chest, the rumbling growing louder, thrumming like a heartbeat in the stillness of the night. The shadows seemed to writhe, and for a moment, it felt as if they were alive, watching, waiting. The panic surged within you, threatening to spill over as uncertainty filled the air.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you forced yourself to turn away from the darkness. “Yes,” you stated, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your facade. You mustered a small smile, one that felt more like a mask than genuine reassurance and slipped into the car.

In the car, as you sped toward the hospital, you looked at your friends, their faces illuminated by the dashboard lights. You felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you, and in that moment, you realized that despite the darkness that had nearly consumed you, you made it out.

Freedom, you whispered in your mind, a desperate prayer more than a thought. But deep down, your pulse quickened, knowing the truth—he would come back. He always did. His presence lingered in every shadow, a predator waiting, watching. No matter how far you ran, how many locks you turned, he was out there.

But this time, you would be ready—and he would regret ever coming back.

#scream #ethan landry #ghostface #scream 6 #ghostface x reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ethan landry yandere #ethan kirsch #scream smut

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ponderingmoonlight · 11 months ago

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Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

Gorgeous dividers by @saradika-graphics

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laiahernandeeezzz · 5 months ago

Note

Hello lovely human,

could u write Yelena X reader. The reader is Natashas bestie and they meet after the events of endgame. Nat and Y/n are living together and Yelena joins them. Y/n and Yelena are slowly falling for each other and Nat is just like third wheeling or teasing them xdd

This took me quite long, and I had to split it in two... I hope you enjoy this first bit

******

FALLING SLOWLY

******

Pairing: Yelena Belova x fem!reader

Words: 1.8K

******

Living with a trained spy is, at least, curious. Natasha Romanoff was a peculiar individual, with weird mores. It wasn’t strange to find the red-head at 4 am fully awake, living for a run or having breakfast to start her day. On the other hand, Y/n still had, minimum, three to four more hours of sleep.

However, they understood each other perfectly. Chores were shared thoughtfully, Natasha not being able to get near the kitchen -she was capable of burning water-, and Y/n was forbidden near the washing machine -she had turned more than one white piece of clothing into another completely different colour. They had been sharing a home for years, but then a purple alien decided to blow up the compound, and they decided to buy a flat for themselves.

******

“Y/n… My precious friend, my favourite hero, my super talented cook” Natasha said in a singing voice as she entered the kitchen area, where Y/n was making pancakes for breakfast. As it was a Sunday, Natasha gave herself the pleasure to sleep in a bit.

“Stop that… What do you want? I don’t have Wanda’s ability to read your mind, but I know you well enough to know you want something”

“What? No” Y/n gave her an unimpressed look, “Okay, fine… So you know my sister Yelena, right? She was freeing some widows, and she just returned from the blip… We’ve been apart for so long, she has nowhere to go…” Y/n continued mixing the pancake mix, but raised her eyes to meet her friend’s ones.

“Can you go straight to the point please, this isn’t like you” Natasha sighed, feeling caught up, looking like a kid that had just broken a plate.

“Alright… I wanted to ask you if she can come live here with us? We have a spare room, she is nice, most of the time” the last part she mumbled, but kept eye contact with her roommate. The spy relaxed when she saw Y/n’s lips forming a wide smile.

“Nat, you could’ve just said that… Of course, she can come, I’m excited to meet her” Y/n went around the kitchen aisle to hug her friend quickly.

“Great, because she’ll be here in thirty minutes, thank you” Astonished, and with wide eyes, Y/n separated from Natasha, looking at her shocked.

“What? Oh, fuck you. What would you have done if I said no?”

“You forget that I also know you, you are too good to say no” Y/n returned to her task, shaking her head in disbelief, while Natasha went to prepare the spare room for Yelena.

Y/n decided to take a shower so she didn’t smell like pancakes when Yelena arrived. She also changed her clothes to something more presentable, and put come concealer on. When she got out, she heard her friend talking to someone with a very thick accent. That must be Yelena, she thought, while taking a deep breath and heading towards them.

The first thing she noticed of the blonde girl was that deep, husky laugh, as well as her voice. Once Yelena was fully in her sight, she could take her traits completely. She was quite tiny, but you could tell she was strong anyway, her hair was long, falling in waves onto her shoulder, she had the cutest round nose, and rosy cheeks. And as soon as they locked eyes, Y/n felt her breathing stop. Yelena’s eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, dots of what looked like gold tainted them.

Natasha was quickly introducing them, a small smirk on her face as she took in her friend’s shook. “Sestra, this is Y/n, my friend and roommate. Y/n this is Yelena, my baby sister”

“It is a pleasure to meet you” Y/n felt in some kind of trance, not being quite able to take her eyes off the smaller woman. You’re being creepy, stop it, her mind screamed at her, but she didn’t put any attention to it. What she did put her attention on was that accent, that now that she was closer, it was making her feel things that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Your accent is so cool” Eyes widened. Y/n’s face flushed in red, Natasha was trying so hard to not laugh, and she could’ve sworn Yelena’s cheeks were a bit more rosy than they were before. Well, she could’ve if she wasn’t so mortified. "I mean… It’s obviously a pleasure to meet you too… Who wants some breakfast?”

The blonde girl let out a loud “yes, please” and they headed to the sofa -they weren’t quite fond of eating on tables-. Y/n held herself back trying to calm down her pounding heart, but her roommate didn’t seem to think she had suffered embarrassment enough, “Stop mindfucking my sister in your head and come eat!” With a groan, and an annoyed expression, she joined the other two women, the frown on her face disappearing when she saw the two sisters together and laughing again.

******

Living with two sisters was, at least, interesting. They didn’t fight a lot, but when they did, the whole building shook. The worst part is that mostly those fights were because of stupid -in Y/n’s opinion- stuff. What to eat, who had to clean the bathroom, who chose what to watch on the TV… They were usually short, loud fights, but they had been fighting for twenty minutes, and Y/n couldn’t take it any more.

“That’s enough!” Finally, they shut up, looking at Y/n surprised. She didn’t tend to get in the middle of their arguments. “You’ve been fighting for almost half an hour over who will do the dishes, don’t worry I’ll do it, but please, lock yourselves in your rooms, because this is getting out of control.

The sisters looked ashamed, but knew that saying anything else wouldn’t help, so they left. Y/n headed to the kitchen, angry at her friends. She loved them, truly, but this was getting exhausting. Y/n knew that living with other people could be tough, but their fights were just ridiculous.

She had been cleaning for a few minutes when some footsteps came behind her. “I really don’t want to talk right now”.

“I just wanted to apologize to you” She didn’t have to turn around to know it was the blonde girl. Y/n would recognize that voice anywhere, that accent constantly running in her mind. The taller woman had accepted that she may or may not have some feelings towards Yelena, not that she was ever telling her friend that. Especially after knowing her for just a few weeks.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, but it was getting absurd” She sighed and turned around to face the blonde, only to find her looking down, a sad frown on her face.

“I know it sounds like an excuse, but living with someone after so many years being alone it’s weird, hard” Y/n slightly knew their story, Natasha telling her when they found each other again, and their mission to bring down the Red Room.

“Hey, Lena? Don’t worry, it’s just sometimes I get triggered by shouts. My parents were constantly fighting when I was little, and I just hate it” Y/n felt a Yelena move to be closer, taking her hand, and stroking her finger on her knuckles. “I’ll try to do better I promise you” The Russian said, as Y/n hugged her, softly muttering a thank you.

Yelena then offered to help Y/n, so they cleaned the rest of the plates, doing small talk. What the girls didn’t notice was a certain redhead looking at them, with a small smile, watching at how the younger women laughed, Y/n pushing the blonde’s shoulder, while the latter rolled her eyes.

******

And Yelena did what she promised, fights minimum after two months. Bickering was still there, but most of the time it was more joking and teasing than serious. On the other hand, Yelena and Y/n entered a curious dynamic. They understood each other pretty well; shopping was their alone time without Natasha, not that she bothered them, but it was nice to have it.

Y/n had accepted that she did have feelings towards the blonde, but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so she never said anything. However, she wasn’t sure that the older woman didn’t also feel something, teasing and flirting was quite common, coming from her, but Y/n desperately convinced herself that it was just how Yelena was.

Those thoughts were running through her mind almost all the time, thankfully shower time let her rest from them, music blasting out the speakers of her phone. When she got out, she wrapped a towel around her body, it barely covered her butt, but she was sure her roommates were in their rooms.

She headed to her dormitory, humming the song she had been listening to without paying any attention to her surroundings until she bumped into something, making her slip with the water she was leaving on the floor, as well as her towel. Y/n expected to feel the floor against her back, but it never came.

An arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close so she wouldn’t fall. A whimper came out of Y/n, when she locked eyes with the person in front of her. Yelena had her eyes widened, her hand hot against the younger woman’s back. They stayed in shock for a few seconds, but when the blonde returned to her senses, quickly separated from Y/n, picking the towel and handing it to the other girl.

Y/n muttered a soft thank you, while she walked -more like run- to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and resting against it. Her body was aroused by the thought of Yelena’s hands purposely running through her naked body. She felt like she needed to take a cold shower this time, but she wasn’t coming out of her room until dinner time, not feeling prepared to face the blonde girl again. What she didn’t know was that Yelena was in the same state as her, she was seated on the end of her bed, staring intensely at her hand, the feeling of Y/n’s back still lingering on her fingers.

A few hours later, three women were eating in silence, the younger ones looking at their plates as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, while the older burned her gaze into their skulls, taking their faces. “What is going on with you two?”

And, finally, the girls looked up. They quickly glanced at each other, cheeks red instantly. “Nothing” both of them said, and Natasha for once didn’t push any further, enjoying the girls’ embarrassment.

[part one]

#florence pugh #florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x you #florence #yelena belova #florence pugh x y/n #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x reader #yelena x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena x y/n

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devotedfem · 5 months ago

Text

→Manipulator

Synopsis: You were a psychologist forensic, having the task to study the criminal profile of Hoseok. You were intrigued by him, because despise of his atrocious crimes, he was the sweetest man to you. But you should know better than to trust him. Something about his vibe and smile sets you off, and your instincts might not be wrong.

J. Hoseok x f. reader

Genre: criminal au | yander-ish

Tags: manipulator Hoseok, naive psychologist reader, possessive behavior, yander-ish, mental manipulation, hidden intentions, kind of ¨bipolar¨ Hoseok, creepy behavior.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

You bit your inner cheek reading Hoseok's file, it was honestly disturbing to read all of the crimes he committed.

Your boss called you yesterday, telling you to build a profile of a offender, a criminal with a very complex mind. So now, you have to interview one of the most dangerous man in South Korea to understand his potential motivations behind his felonies.

The guard outside of the interrogation room didn't look at you once, he just opened the door expressionless. You took deep breaths to calm your nerves, it wasn't your first time doing this so you didn't know where the anxiety comes from.

"Hello."

A hoarse voice startled you. You blinked watching a man handcuffed to a table, smiling eagerly and widely towards you. He looked friendly, if you didn't knew better you would return the smile. But you do knew better, or so you think.

"Hello Hoseok, i'm y/n, and i will make you some questions if you don't mind." And if he does mind, you will still interview him.

"Oh, i don't mind at all! I like to talk about myself," he teased with a warm smile, and you just smiled back.

Hint of narcissism. You noted.

You started to ask him questions based on your readings and the protocol, and he answered rather calm and polite, always smiling and listening to you.

Sometimes you catched him looking at you without blinking, with an intimidating gaze lingering on you long enough to be considerate impolite or strange. But he returns to his "nice" and friendly persona immediately.

"Do you think i'm a bad person?"

The question took you by surprise, the interview was going smoothly until he asked that. You cleared your throat to hide the fact that you were taken aback.

"I think you're a very intelligent person, capable of knowing what's good or bad. So you can ask that question to yourself."

You looked at your watch feeling a bit uncomfortable every second you spend with Hoseok, and the worst part it's that he didn't do anything wrong to make you feel that way. It was something about his vibe.

"Okay well, i have a last question for you."

"I'm all ears." He smiled warmly at you, very attentive to what you have to say.

He was so nice and well mannered, but at the same time so creepy.

"Based on what you told me, i can say that you are a person very aware of your actions and those of others. So... why did you kill those people?"

The million dollar question. Why did he kill innocent people that have no relation with each other or with him? There's not a specific pattern.

"Why not?"

Silence.

"Pardon?"

Sadist. You noted.

"I said, why fucking not?"

You blinked genuinely confused and surprised. You touched a nerve, breaking his facade.

"Because innocent people don't deserve to die just because." You answered calmly, studying his every expression, and he was doing the same with you.

He just hummed at you, with his handcuffs clinking.

"I might just kill all of your family and friends just to have you to myself, isn't that enough of a reason?" His eyes glinted with evilness, and your breath hitch at his threat.

"Of course not." You tried so hard to not lose your cool, but it was hard when his piercing eyes bore your face.

"I disagree. In fact if you walk away and never return to me, i'll make some calls to arrange your friends and family deaths."

You blinked, not knowing if you should laugh or run.

"What?"

In the next second he jumped to your side of the table, breaking the handcuffs with a pin you didn't knew dropped from your hair. He grabbed your neck with one hand, and both of your wrists with the other. His grip was bruising, and the guard outside of the room ignored all of your cries and screams for help.

"If you don't come back tomorrow, i might hurt you and everyone you love just because. Your choice." He growled in your ear, making you whimper by his rough grip.

"Okay! i'll come tomorrow, just... just leave them alone," your lips wobble, and he coos wiping tenderly your tears away.

"Aren't you clever, my y/n. I promise we will have so much fun together." He whispered against your neck, and his tongue lapped the skin of your neck like a hungry dog, making your stomach turn with disgust.

You were so fucked up.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #yandere hoseok #bts x reader #yandere bts #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #x reader #yandere x reader #bts imagines #hoseok imagine #jung hoseok

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nastyaromatherapy · 5 months ago

Text

“What? I was at Econ.” (18+)

Ethan finds you drunk in an alley, and he isn't as kind as he seems.

pairing - Ethan Landry x fem!reader

one shot length, 3.4k word fic

warnings: non/dub con, dark, corruption, PIV, bj, fingering, no protection, degrading, slapping, spitting, death.

The sound of wet taps and drips filled your ears as you laid on the wet cement of the alleyway. You were worried, of course, but not worried enough to get up and run for your life. It was relaxing, strangely enough. You didn’t hear anyone or anything except the usual engine of a nearby car. Plus, the noise of water was music to your ears.

Suddenly you heard the sound of footsteps. You started to attempt to prop yourself up on your elbows, but you lacked the strength. You had just come out of a party, drunken as ever. An annoyed whine left your mouth as you heard the steps crescendo, growing faster as well. Your eyes shot open when you caught sight of the shadowed figure above you. It was tall and had a masculine frame. When it knelt beside you, you saw the face of a boy. A seemingly sweet one at that.

“Hey. Are you okay?” He asked with sincerity. You slowly shook your head. “Here,” he said, offering his hand to help you up. When you were brought to your feet you stumbled, and he wrapped his arm around your waist to support you. Your head surged with pain at the change in elevation and lighting, the light in front of you dim, but far brighter than the darkness of your eyelids. You groaned to yourself, unaware of your vulnerability.

“What are you doing in this alley?” He asked. You pondered, unsure yourself. “I...party. Party, there,” you slurred due to both the alcohol, and confusion. Really you didn’t know where the party was, or why you were really in this alley. You pointed in a random direction and his eyes followed, not noticing a party. He just shrugged.

“God, this is so creepy,” you said slowly, finally becoming aware of your surroundings. “I wanna go home.” Ethan nodded, looking around for an exit. He held you as the two of you ventured through the alley. That way, you wouldn’t stumble and fall. “My names Ethan, what’s yours?” He asked more straightforwardly than usual, noticing you were very drunk. “Y/n,” you said in reply.

“You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s dangerous,” he said. You just sighed in response. You were in no position to protest considering the predicament you were currently in.

His chest gave you warmth, and you leaned your head on it, even if it affected your balance a little. Your outfit from the party didn’t provide that much insulation. You felt heat travel from your waist to your heinie, and you shifted uncomfortably. His hand was now resting on your barely covered ass, and even your drunk self was disturbed. “Stop, what are you doing,” you asked, and as you tried to snake away, he held you in place. “You looked like you were gonna fall, I’m just holding you better,” he replied. You thought to yourself, your knees were pretty wobbly, and he was helping you. Why were you being so anxious? You decided to let it be.

“God you’re deep in this alley. I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to find an exit that’s not blocked. I might have to call someone to pick us up.” As he opened up his phone and called a contact you weren’t able to read, his hand still had a firm grip on your ass. You kept telling yourself he was just trying to help. “Okay well my friend’s on their way. Let’s sit and wait for them,” he suggested after he finished his call. He walked you to an area that was barely lit with a lamp. The two of you sat on the cold stony ground.

You sat on your butt with your knees propped up, not even noticing how your mini skirt flipped up, revealing your panties. As you looked around the alley, you realized you didn’t notice your surroundings. Sure, you were drunk, but you could’ve sworn you were lying down right near an exit. How come Ethan couldn’t find the exit?

You laid your head against him, feeling comfortable with this complete stranger. Unpredictably, you felt a cold pain searing on your thigh. You bit your lip to hold back a squeal. The pain was temporary, and heat slowly started to warm up your leg. You looked down, and finally noticed that your skirt wasn’t covering your crotch. However, that’s not what you were paying attention to. Your eyes widened at Ethan’s hand, rubbing circles around your inner thigh.

You flinched heavily and loudly whispered, “Fuck, stop! What the fuck are you doing?” Ethan just shrugged, a confused look on his face. “It’s fucking freezing. I’m warming up my hands. Why?” His words were reassuring and reminded you that you were in safe hands. “It just, feels wrong. Please don’t touch me like that.” He nods. “Yeah, sorry. I was just… cold.” You weren’t sure how to respond to him. You were using his chest as a pillow, why couldn’t he use your thighs as hand warmers? You felt it was only fair, especially considering that he was helping you. So, no matter how wrong it felt, you decided to let him. “No you’re right, it is cold. I’m sorry, go ahead.”

You softly winced as his frozen hand touched your thighs once more, the warmth from your blood slowly radiating back to his fingertips. He sighed to himself, “You’re so warm,” as he started slowly massaging your muscle there. You decided to just relax, somebody was going to pick you up and take you home soon. Ethan’s chest was large and comfortable, so you closed your eyes and attempted to drift off.

You couldn’t even relax for 5 seconds before you felt his fingers shift to your panties. He rubbed circles on your clit and you couldn’t help but let out a meek whimper. “Ethan, stop! What do you think you’re doing?” You asked frantically, even though you weren’t at all trying to remove yourself from his grasp. “I already told you, I’m warming up my hands,” he chuckled dryly, and although you hated he was doing this, your back arched against his hand, your primal urge taking over.

“You’re such a liar,” you cried, closing your eyes as you did nothing to fight against his touch. Ethan bit his lip to hold back a groan when he felt your panties dampen, proving you were aroused by this. The most you could muster up to do was just repeatedly whimper out the words “stop, stop, stop, stop.” And when you did decide to try to crawl away, his large hands just held you in place. “God, I’m getting you a fucking ride and I’m rotting in this freezing alley for you. The least you could do is just warm me up!” You nodded in submission, quickly going back to your original position, lying on his chest with your knees open, revealing your panties that now had a damp spot.

He lowered his head, his chin grazing your shoulder. “Your panties are filthy,” he started, hooking the band with his fingers. “Let me help you.” He slid your panties completely off, tossing them to a dark corner. At this point you knew exactly what he was doing. “No, this is too much. Please stop,” you pleaded, your face in your hands to hide your flush of shame.

He striked your face with his palm after yanking your hands away. “Shut up. Hear me?” He gave your other cheek a matching slap while simultaneously exploring your wet folds with his other hand. The pain from the slap and the hurt from the betrayal caused tears to stream from your eyes. Your vision was fogged but you could still notice the way his hand was assaulting your parts. His fingers circled around your clit, eliciting moans from your dainty lips. “Why are you doing this?” You cried. “Well I couldn’t just leave you there for somebody else to use. So pretty, so delicate.”

His fingers sped up in speed, and your whimpers echoed throughout the walls of the silent alleyway. Ethan couldn't help but smirk at the fact you didn’t even try to fight back. Your breathing got heavier, and soon your chest was heaving. Before things got too far you said, “No, this isn’t right. We shouldn’t be doing this.” He was very annoyed by this. “But you’re about to cum,” he coerced. He was right, he was hitting that spongy spot in you so well, and you could feel your orgasm approaching. You felt so dirty, knowing he was right. Aware that you were coming undone from a complete strangers fingers in a filthy alley.

“Shh,” he cooed into your ear, noticing your desperate whines and pleas to stop, even though your body was finding immense pleasure. “Just take my fucking fingers and cum. Cum on my fingers like a good fucking whore,” he practically growled, sending heat straight to your core.

You didn’t say anything when you came. You just moaned erratically, your legs shaking and your eyes watering. He pulled his fingers out of you as you panted, recovering from your release. He took a look at the residue glistening on his fingers before smearing them on your face, now slathered with your bodily fluids. “Shit, that’s a good slut.”

You felt disgusted and used, but on the contrary you felt the need to press your thighs together to relieve the feeling within you. “I’m not,” you cried, defending yourself. He grabbed you by the hair, forcefully tilting your head up to look at him. He spat in your face, the glob of saliva dripping from your chin to lips. “Slut,” he repeated, making sure it got through your head. Your face stung from another slap of his hand, and his chuckles made your stomach churn.

“Take off your clothes,” he demanded but you shook your head. “No,” you said with a quivering voice, attempting to stand your ground. Swiftly, he pulled out a knife from his pocket. The handle was black and the blade was well, frightening. “Take off your clothes,” he repeated, this time through gritted teeth. The sight of the knife made your heart race with fear. If the situation wasn’t serious before, it was now. You slowly stripped, afraid of maybe making the wrong movie.

“So pretty,” he whispered to himself as he watched in awe, eyes mainly fixated on your tits. He unbuckled his belt, and reached into his boxers to remove his cock. You couldn’t deny it, it was good looking. Even if the size was intimidating and unexpected, it was put together, clean even. But that didn’t stop the disturbed feeling in your gut since this wasn’t right. And even with that disturbed gut feeling, your mind was disturbed at yourself. Disturbed that even with all this fear, apart of you was turned on. The sight of his cock was drenching your already soaked cunt.

Again he grabbed you by the hair, sending stinging pain straight to your scalp. He forced your face in front of his cock, making you topple onto your stomach. You winced when your knees got cut from the rough ground. “Open,” he ordered. You swallowed, not wanting to. You looked into his eyes that sent daggers, reminding you of the danger he held with the knife. Your mouth opened, barely, not even enough to fit a finger, let alone his size.

“Wider,” he said, firmer this time. You stretched your mouth, and your jaw ached. He grinned and guided his thick tip to your opened mouth. The smell of him was so intoxicating. The musk, the dominance, it was all so primal, and even if mentally you were against it, your body couldn’t get enough.

He easily slipped his cock past your lips, and threw his head back with a groan. His hands still held a firm grip on your head as he practically used you as a fleshlight, forcing your head up and down. Your eyes watered when he hit the back of your throat, and you felt your sinuses open, feeling nasally. You felt every ridge and vein of him against your tongue, and the deeper he went, the more difficult it was to not gag.

Ethan muttered curses to himself, loving every second of this. Even while in this inappropriate situation, you found yourself turned on by Ethan enjoying himself. The way he would groan or roll his hips against your throat. “That’s it,” he said before slapping your sore face. “Take that fucking dick.” You whimpered, but it was barely audible with his cock stuffed in your mouth.

With every gag that managed to slip out, you felt your mind go blank. Even with the immense pain, you found pleasure as well. It was obvious from the way your cunt was repeatedly clenching around absolutely nothing.

You gasped for air when he abruptly pulled away. Your lips were swollen and your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. He stroked himself with nauseating pride before spitting on your face, and at this point, you were fighting back a smile. It landed on your philtrum and dropped down to your chin. You couldn’t help but stare at him stroking his cock, the way each movement of his forearm elicited a lustful moan from him. The way he would tense before each groan, and shiver slightly after.

“Fuck, you want my cum, slut? Want it all over your pretty little face?” You shook your head no, too embarrassed to tell the truth. You craved it. However, your eyes couldn’t pry away from him. Your mind raced with curiosity about him cum. What it would taste like, how thick it would be, how much would come out. “J-just a little,” you didn’t even realize you were saying, too mesmerized in his masturbation.

He knew you wanted it, but he wasn’t going to give up his cum to you for some absent minded statement. “That’s not good enough,” he chuckled, shaking his head. You knew you would have to admit it if you were gonna get his cum. “Please, just let me taste some,” you pleaded.

“Yeah? You want that cum?” He moaned, holding back since he was so close to the edge. “Yes please, I need it,” you begged, your hand smoothing out his thigh to guide your mouth closer. Ethan titled his head back and grunted, stroking himself as thick ropes of his cum landed into your awaiting mouth, some making its way to your nose. “Fuck, it’s so good,” you moaned as you greedily lapped at his tip, hoping he would just keep ejaculating more. You were disappointed when his breathing slowed and it came to an end, your drunken haze more apparent.

He noticed this and grinned to himself, knowing that you started to enjoy this. He guided his tip back to your already parted lips and you started to blow him voluntarily, happily pleasing the man who was assaulting you just minutes before. He reached for his phone, and while doing so his mouth was agape with heavy breathing as you brought his cock back to life. The light emitted on his screen, and unbeknownst to you, he was looking at absolutely nothing. He put the phone in his pocket. “My friend’s finally here, let’s get you home.”

He quickly put his pants back on and stood up, pulling you up by your arm. You reached for your clothes before he said, “Stop it, no time. You want to get home don’t you?” You nod in understanding, but you’re afraid to meet his friend and you don’t want them to see you naked. Nonetheless you ventured through the alleyway completely bare, aside from your feet that were clothed with chunky pink heels. You winced trying to keep up with his pace, his tall stature and large steps making him naturally faster. Your cut up knees however kept you from speed walking, a pain shooting through you if you flexed them too much. You clung to his arm, again finding more stability against him then on your drunken legs.

Suddenly, he grabbed you and slammed you against a brick wall, the tough material slicing your cheek. “Ethan, I wanna go home,” you cried, panic setting in when you heard him unzip his pants. He was holding your face against the wall, but you could see in the shadow on the ground that his cock was out once more. He pressed his tip against your entrance, sliding it up and down against your ass and folds. “No, stop, please,” you pleaded, not on any birth control, and feeling his raw condomless head.

“Shut up,” he spat, slapping your ass with force that stung. You shrieked as he slowly started to enter, but the noises he made were nothing short of pleasure. Although you were begging, pleading for him to stop, you couldn’t help but push back against his cock, your pussy begging for more. “Mm,” he growled to himself, one hand firm on your hip and another holding your wrists above your head to prevent you from running away. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

Your mouth was leaking moaning pleas, his size practically rearranging your insides. “Stop- your cock’s s’big,” you slurred, your words very oxymoronic. His breathing was heavy down your neck as he impaled your cunt, taking advantage of the inconsistency’s of your words. As much pleasure as you found in this, you didn’t find anything appealing about possibly being impregnated. However both the lust and alcohol made all of those anxious thoughts melt away, letting only your pussy, stuffed to the brim with his cock, think for you.

He slapped your ass, enjoying the way your body jolted and how your mouth let out a weak cry. “That’s it, take my cock like a drunk fucking whore,” he breathily whispered into your ear, covering your body in goosebumps. The alleyway was filled with sounds like dripping water, a squelching pussy, hips slamming against heinie, the man’s grunts, and best of all your pretty moans. He relished in that sound, especially mixed with your begs for him to stop.

“Fuck, gonna breed this fucking cunt,” he said through gritted teeth, speeding up. You cried out at the sudden change in pace, so overstimulated that you didn’t even focus on his words. Your legs shook and you would have fallen if it weren’t for his firm grip on your entire body. It wasn’t until he started slowing down and thrusting deeper that you noticed. “No, what are you gonna, shit- stop!” You cried, realizing he was gonna cum. You tried your best to escape his grip, push him off, but it was honestly laughable how useless your efforts were. He came in your cunt, semen filling up every crevice of your fertile pussy.

Your gasp echoed off the walls, and that would be the last sound you ever made. After he slipped out of you he covered your mouth before you could make another sound, pulling you off the wall and closer to him. He chuckled at your surprised, wide eyes that dilated when you noticed the blade from your peripheral. “What, you didn’t think I’d let you live, did you?” He said before tutting as you tried to escape his grasp. He shook his head, his face obviously showing he found the situation humorous, before turning stone cold, biting his lip as he slammed the knife into your chest. When he pulled the knife out - blood splattering on the walls, your body, and even his face - and when he let go, you tumbled to the ground. He grinned, smudging a little droplet of your blood off his cheek and kicking your body to make sure you were dead, before walking away.

“Mindy, turn up the tv!” Tara urged impatiently, biting her finger nails. “Okay, okay,” Mindy replied, obviously annoyed. Chad and Ethan walked into the apartment unannounced, confused about the commotion. Sam walked out into the living room and stopped in her tracks, stomaching dropping to the floor when she saw what was on screen. “Y/n L/n, a Blackmore University Student, and friend to many, was found raped and killed in an alley nearby a party she attended. Police are narrowing down suspects, and are questioning anybody and everybody who they know was there. DNA on her body from the perpetrator were found inconclusive, not seeming to belong to anyone that exists.”

“Shit,” Chad groaned, wiping a hand down his face. “Fuck, we were all at that party.” He said, before slowly turning his head towards Ethan, his face accusing. Everybody else in the room followed and did the same. Ethan looked astonished that they would even suggest something like that. “What? I was at Econ.”

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