#yandere ghostface x reader

[reareaotaku]

Love Me

Summary: Billy is so in love with you; He just can't stop himself Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Fem! Reader Tw: Obsessive Billy, Stalking, death, Underage Drinking, Slight Stu x Reader

We need another flood. Like now-

His eyes were trained on you like a hawk. He knew he shouldn't get attached, because you would just break his heart, but he couldn't help himself. His heart needed you to beat. He had to have you- Even if you were already dating that football asshole, Steve.

Just his name was enough to piss Billy off. He knew he could treat you better than that asshole, plus he was better looking too.

He groaned when seeing you and Steve together. It made him want to stick a knife in the guy's heart.

---

Billy swirled the knife in his hand, as Steve struggled against his bonds. Blood covered Billy's gloved hands. It made him feel giddy to know he had so much control over a man who seemed to control his emotions.

You'd be devastated, sure, but Billy will be there. Billy would always be there.

---

You nearly threw up when getting the news. You couldn't even cry, it was all to much. Steve, murdered? How? This kind of thing doesn't happen. Who would do this?

School was devastating, how were you supposed to pretend like everything was okay when it wasn't.

"Hey."

You look up when hearing a voice. You vaguely recognized him as Stu's friend. Was his name Ben?

"I heard about what happened."

"Who hasn't?" You hadn't meant to be snippy, but you couldn't stop yourself.

"Ouch. Harsh much?"

You frown, before mumbling an apology under your breath.

"I'm kidding." He looks around, before clicking his tongue, "You know. Stu's throwing a party... Like a grieving party, you should come. Get your mind off you know."

---

Billy sighed as he watches you from the other side of the room. He wasn't making any progress with you, and he didn't know why. He just offed his biggest threat.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to his buddy Stu.

"Whatcha looking at, Billy?" Stu looks over to where Billy's eyes where before 'Ahh'ing. "Y/n, huh? You tried?"

"It's not that easy."

"Oh, I'm sure it is."

"Yeah, how about you go for it then?"

"Oh, and take away any chance you have?"

"Oh, please, she would never dte you," Billy laughs, which just causes Stu to roll his eyes.

"Well, you better get on it, because when I get going, there's no stopping it."

[onmyyan]

Kiss the goat

A/N: Horror isekai? Horror isekai, here's part one of the Scream chapters, unedited, hope you like cuz it was so much fun writing

Pairing: Yandere Poly Ghostface x reader

It was such an odd sensation, you don't think you'd ever truly get used to it, no matter how many times it washed over you.

It was always the same, tranquil lull, and it always started in your lower tummy, like this wave of ice cold water suddenly replaced all the blood in your veins.

Whenever you first 'woke up' somewhere new, that damn feeling was always the first thing you noticed, and the only warning you'd get.

This time though, something was different. There was this mix of fear, confusion, and awe tossed in with the lull because you clocked your location immediately.

Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum

For a moment all you could hear was the the blood pounding in your eardrums, slowly , as you forced yourself to breathe, the surrounding noises faded in, at first it was just the chatter of a busy school, then you noticed the shuffle of feet dragging on concrete, with your heart pounding furiously against your rib cage, you pinched your thigh through your baggy blue jeans and began walking, focusing on forcing your feet to move, rather than the millions of other thoughts buzzing through your skull. Why? Well because there you stood, dropped right before the soon-to-be infamous Woodsboro High.

As you walked amongst the crowd of people there were a few things you noticed immediately about yourself, at least this version of yourself, which seemed to change with every new plot you were forcibly thrown in.

The jeans you wore were loose fitting and well loved, small holes in the denim here and there  gave you a typical 90's degenerate vibe, the soft cotton of the band T-shirt you were in felt comfortable against your skin, around your waist hung a oversized burgundy flannel with accents of mustard yellow, the fabric looked old and smelled of weed, a sigh rolled through your chest at the familiar smell, it was a bittersweet reminder of your life before this insanity began.

Glancing down at your outfit made you breath out a sigh of relief, at least you dressed better in this one. In the small shirt pocket, you felt a book of matches, the scratchy texture of telling you what it was without needing to pull it out, good to know.

Shaking your head you try your best to look as bored and uninteresting as possible, you've found these things were best tackled from a stealthy perspective. As you finally enter the school, the second you step through the open doors, there's this intense, hair-raising feeling that washes over you, everything in your gut is saying run away, turn around, but you don't.

Instead, you swallow the fight-or-flight instincts and continue your pace as if you hadn't noticed the predatory stare on you. It didn't surprise you, after all, the self-proclaimed directors of this twisted movie were bound to notice a new player being introduced so suddenly, you just hadn't yet gotten used to the uneasy feeling of being in the presence of a murderer.

Or in this movies case, murderers.

The stares you received from the rest of the student body helped to distract you from the heavy stares burning into you, as you leisurely walked down the halls people either mean-mugged you or ignored you, it helped to��get a better feel for the role you'd been assigned, depending on how well you played said role was going to determine whether or not you ended up on the kill count.

For now, you kept it pushing, your hands resting comfortably in the pockets of your jeans, your right hand, which you only now noticed was covered in rings, brushed against the cool touch of something small and metal, you quickly pulled out the object to reveal a switchblade, the handle a glossy white with a simple heart scratched into the surface, quickly you tucked it back where you'd found it.

The grin that had stretched across your face as you traversed the halls was downright wicked, in your mini search you'd also come across a crinkled class schedule and a pack of gum. Curious (e/c) eyes diligently scanned the face of every student that passed, searching for any clue as to when exactly you'd popped in, having a clear timeline in mind made these things run so much smoother.

Casey Beckem gave you that answer in the form of a cliché shoulder check as she rounded the corner. She made a point to dust off the area that had touched you, and her scoff of 'Watch it freak.' made a snort leave your nose, god you loved the 90s, even the bullying was better.

Considering she was still amongst the living, you gathered this was before the start of the movie, fantastic. You pushed forward, far too wrapped up in your building excitement to pay any mind to the very dangerous man you'd caught the sight of.

You found your first class a few minutes early, thankfully the school's layout wasn't too hard to navigate, you were intent on taking proper inventory and prepping as well as you could. The teacher took you in with a surprised noise, clearly judging your character on your appearance.

You'd gotten pretty good at handling your, particular situation, so good in fact you'd begun to relax a little. Taking a seat by the window in the back felt very final girl of you, the thought making you giggle to yourself. Whatever entity responsible for isekaing you into this movie flashed between a real asshole and a slightly smaller asshole with each reincarnation, this time it looked like they were feeling nice as you started with a weapon. 

Your inner workings were put on an abrupt pause as Randy Meeks burst in through the door earning a glare from the otherwise silent teacher. The bright-eyed male made a beeline for you, his expression was akin to a puppy who just had its bone taken away.

"What the Hell San Francisco? I spent the last 15 minutes running around like some mook looking for ya'." he paused to sit down at the desk directly on your right. "You ask a guy to show you around then ditch em'? Cruel, undeniably cruel." You learned pretty quickly to just roll with it whenever someone from Canon spoke to you.

"My bad Meeks, I'll make it up to you." At this, the energetic man rolled his eyes, now leaning even closer. "Oh yeah? Meaning what- you'll actually take me up on my offer instead of responding with that cold familiar brand of cynicism? C'mon, it'll be funnnn." He trailed off in a whine. "Whoever told you begging was an option for you lied." You laughed, shaking your head at the way he visibly deflated.

You kicked your faded black Converse all star's on the back of the seat before you, legs bouncing as you allowed yourself to ponder your answer, the nervous habit had developed sometime between this movie, and one of your earlier incarnations and subsequent deaths.

This was a little more complicated, see the omnipotent fuck who put you here liked to screw with you, very much into the concept of seeing you mix with whatever plot that laid before you, so much so that anytime you fought against whatever scenario you were thrust into in any way you died horribly. The first time you'd been plopped into a movie was the original My Bloody Valentine,- a chill ran through your body like a punch to the gut at the thought, yeah you'd come a long way since then in terms of working the system but nothing was set in stone.

You figured whatever this offer from Randy was, would no doubt tie you into the plot, knowing better than to fight the waves, you pretended to think about it before shrugging. "Sure. I'll bite." The simple statement had him shooting out of his chair to fist pump before quickly falling back in his seat.

"Yessss-okay it's super easy, I spend my time rewinding the utter garbage the general population consumes on a daily." He was practically buzzing in his seat as he spoke. "Once in a while, the boss leaves for an extra long lunch break and I get to watch whatever I want- Child's Play, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street- you name it I got it." The redhead spoke proudly, leaning back against his chair with a self-satisfied look.

"You should be a salesman Meeks." The male bristled beside you, a tinge of red on his cheeks. "Yeah yeah, whatever Frisco- don't come crying to me when you don't have anyone to sit with at lunch." He teased, leaning over his desk, you smile toying with the ring on your hand, popping your neck with a sigh you took a second before responding, "Oh god, how will I ever survive sitting alone, whatever will I do." you spoke in a dead tone making the male at your side pout.

"You're cold (L/n), couldn't even pretend to care about my threat huh?"

You looked over with a teasing grin, "Course' not- I'm not a liar Randy.", it was then and only then that you noticed the tall Blonde unashamedly staring you down from the door.

Stu Macher had made his appearance earlier than expected but you didn't sweat it, or the almost hungry look he was giving you. Nope, not sweating at all. Instead, you quickly averted your eyes, praying he hadn't caught your stare.

He had, naturally.

The taller male nearly took up the entire door frame, he looked a lot more intimidating in person. The playful look on his face was all the more haunting the more you thought about who he really was underneath it. What he was hours away from doing.

Randy, feeling the sudden rise in tension, refused to be left out, and tried to not so subtly block Stu's vision of you by standing up and not so casually sitting on his desk, his back to the future killer. "Anyway Frisco', I don't want you mixin' in with the wrong crowd okay?" He made a point to flick his eyes back towards the now pouting blonde, "Bad company makes for bad times. Just stick with me I'll show you the ropes." He made sure to mutter that last part, his expression drenched in fear for the briefest moment.

Before you could respond Stu had rather aggressively climbed his way over a few desks to plop into the seat in front of you.

His dimpled grin was rather infectious.

"Now that's no way to talk about your friends Randy." He almost seethed out his name making the shorter male curl in on himself like a rabbit, he turned to face you with flare.

"Hi, there hot stuff- Stu Macher, bad company." He took your hand in his much larger one, completely enveloping your own, the tension was broken by the comical handshake, how hard he shook it up and down dispelled all previous bad vibes, his devious little grin only grew at your response, "Hi Stu, I'm (Y/n). Worse company."

"So whatcha' running from in San Francisco? Girl's like you don't just show up outta nowhere for no reason." He didn't even try to hide the way he was checking you out, his half-lidded eyes eagerly drinking in every inch of the alluring stranger before him.

"Who says I'm running big guy? I might be the one doing the chasing." Maybe teasing a soon-to-be serial killer wasn't the smartest move, but you just couldn't help it, he leaned his head into his palm, the wide toothy grin promising nothing but trouble. "I think I like you- come sit with us at lunch."

"You askin' or telling?" You met his heated gaze with a cold indifference that only fueled the ever-growing fire burning in his belly. The larger male quickly fell to his knees from his seat on the chair, bringing his hands together in a dramatic motion, "Pretty pretty please hot new kid come sit with meee." The laugh tumbling past your lips was real, you quickly ushered him back to his seat, "As nice as ya look on your knees- this is embarrassing please get the hell up I'll sit with you."

He backed off with a victorious grin not knowing you'd just lied through your teeth, there was no way in hell you'd willingly put yourself in Billy's cross hairs, Stu was unavoidable apparently, but Billy? You'd hold out as long as you could, when lunch rolled around you managed to convince Randy to eat on the roof, and used the friendly conversation to get more information out of him.

It was during this conversation you discovered in this world, whoever you were, was Randy's new neighbor.

After the school bell had rung for the final time, you made a point to linger around Randy, usually, when you spawned in one of these things the plot was well into swing, but this time you were here early, and the change in routine felt all the more dangerous.

Thankfully, Randy came to your rescue, you tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear him say,

"-if you even want to that is- we'd mostly be watching the classics." He finished nervously glancing to and from, you managed to space back just in time to greet him with a half smile and a shrug. "Lead the way, Meeks."

"It's so cool how you live next door- when you told me at first I thought you were yankin' my chain." He said bouncing his way down the road.

Randy had stumbled home with sleep in his eye sometime around midnight, you weren't too worried for the guy as you knew they hadn't started their spree yet.

That was until the phone rang. 

For a moment all you did was stare. You knew who was on the other end it just didn't make any sense. 

Swallowing the thick ice cube of fear suddenly in your throat, you caught your breath as casually as you could.

As if on autopilot your hand scooped up the house phone, you surprised yourself with how calm your greeting was.

"Hello?.."

"Hey there sweet thing- you're up awful late aren't ya?" You tried to look as casual as you could, steadily making your way to every door, and securing each entrance, but it was hard to ignore the twinge of accusation in his tone.

"You're up too.." Was what you managed to get out, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Hm, that's fair. What were you up to? Have some fun with your boyfriend?" The last word sounded harder than the rest, with no humor in his tone, almost as if it was said through gritted teeth, like whoever spoke it spat the word out.

So he was definitely watching you, your mind racked with the best answer to keep Randy from harm's way.

"Just watching some scary movies with a friend- you like em'?" You asked leaning against the island in your kitchen. "Oh, honey- you've got no idea." Before you could respond he continued, "I will see you later gorgeous." and then he was gone

[g0blintears]

[Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Eight. Thrilling Tremors

Danny has always loved the horror genre.

Ever since he was a child, his father would tell him real life horror stories. Those stories of a cat chasing a mouse. A predator hunting down prey. It was all the same stories that ended with a field of bloodshed and a victor that would rise above it all…and Danny was absolutely fascinated with each thrilling tale.

Mutilated bodies would engrave itself into his mind. Haunting scenes with vivid details would replay in his head like a broken flickering filmstrip. From the creepy music to the dramatic pauses, Danny would find his heart pounding in his chest with a wide smile curving on his lips as he became enamored with each piece of horror media he consumed.

However, the exhilaration of facing the unknown, the details from the unsettling sounds to the tense atmosphere— none of those things were his favorite part. And for a while, Danny actually wasn’t sure what he loved so much about the genre. He knew he loved true horror. The real stories of monsters that lurk in the night. The real boogeyman that blends into society. He was captivated by true, raw horror. 

So, that begged the question, was he simply just entertained by the reality of human nature? Did he just enjoy seeing how ‘civilized’ people would react to the real demons that ran around with the same blood that they bled? 

Or, did he simply love horror because it fed into his own bloodlust?

When Danny brought his first horror story to life, he knew he had found the answer. Although his first design was sloppy, it was still created with passion that was driven by instinct, and that was when Danny had come to a realization. 

Humans are animals. They are destructive by nature. As intelligent and ‘evolved’ as they may be, Danny knew that all humans have primal instincts, and those instincts were bloody and chaotic. Some may deny it, but Danny knew the truth. And if he was going to accept his human nature as a whole, he may as well be creative with it.

So, Danny went on with his life, loving every second of it. He loved existing as a human. He loved having the ability to create. And most of all, he loved creating real life horror stories. Obviously, his passion is looked down upon. But that doesn’t stop him. If anything, Danny was glad that the playing field was so small. It made it easier for his work to stick out, and it made his stories even scarier.

However, as much as Danny adored bringing terror to the public, he always had to be cautious of his work. His designs needed to be perfect. Any flaw could wind him up in the electric chair. So, even if he loved sharing his stories, Danny would often feel dread when he would have to lay low under the radar. After completing each design, Danny would have to stop his work for a while, and that often gave him an uncomfortable itch that would sometimes leave him wishing he could freely create his stories without feeling the burden of the consequences.

It was simply just wishful thinking during those impatient times, but unknown to Danny, his wishes would be heard.

So, one could only imagine the delight he felt the moment he was wrapped around in a fog, a darkness consuming him until his eyes met the flickering red and orange flame of a campfire where an other-worldly being had suddenly emerged. Stepping in front of him from beyond a black fog, you had gazed down at Danny with empty, soulless [eye color] eyes as you introduced him to a realm of nightmares. 

And Danny was absolutely ecstatic to be there.

Like an artist given his own studio with an endless supply of paints and canvas, Danny was given the opportunity to perfect as many designs as he desired. And so, he would carry on like that in the realm. Danny would create different horror stories for all the survivors on every single map. He even learned to adapt his designs so they would come out flawless! 

It was fun for a while, but then…Danny got bored.

Don’t get him mistaken though. He still loved creating his designs, but he craved for something more. He needed a bigger project. Something that would give him a challenge. Something that would be his Mona Lisa. 

And then, there was you. 

The very first being that Danny had met in the realm. The very first being that Danny knew was on a completely different scale from him. You were something that looked human, but you weren’t. You were something extraordinary. And you were the first being that would become Danny’s new passion project— his muse, if you will.

Thus, leaving Danny to where he is now. 

One of his arms wrapped around your torso, fingers clenched around the fabric of your blazer as he dug into your waist. His other hand was wrapped around your arm and chest, leveling his blade up to your eyes. A smile curved on his lips from behind his mask as he gazed at your reflection in the knife. You were completely unfazed, just as he expected.

“Did I get you this time?” He asked in a hush, observing every feature of your face.

You stared into your own reflection, your eyes moving from your own empty stare before flickering over to the killer behind you. Although you couldn’t see him, Danny could practically feel your eyes bore into him as if he weren’t even wearing a mask to begin with.

“No. I knew you were approaching three minutes ago.” You responded, monotone as ever as you kept your expression stoic.

Danny wasn’t surprised by this, but your response did intrigue him. He had been stalking you earlier, and his interest was piqued when he saw you very subtly reaching out for the flames, so he knew that something was going on in your mind. Just what exactly was it?

Raising a brow, the male tilted his head, “That’s two minutes off from usual.” His voice rasped out. Gripping your torso tighter, Danny brought the blade to your neck and traced the sharp edge over your skin. His eyes focused on your reaction. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is this your question for our game?” You instead inquired, causing Danny to pause in thought.

Right.

Ever since Danny has made you his muse, he took it upon himself to learn everything about you so he could create the perfect design. After all, his first attempt didn’t go exactly as planned… so, he tried a new method— he made it a game between the two of you. He will be merciless in trials, and in exchange, he gets to ask you questions about yourself. 

Obviously, you accepted those terms. And so, he began with the obvious. 

“What is your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Where did you come from?”

“My creator.”

“Who is your creator?”

“The entity.”

“Why did she create you?”

“To serve.”

You were honest, but dry. He wasn’t sure if you were just clever to be wary of him, or if you truly couldn’t comprehend anything other than to follow orders. Regardless, Danny didn’t like that you gave him the obvious answers. You weren’t playing fair. Why should he be merciless in trials for you if you were just going to give him the copy and paste answers that you gave to every other killer and survivor?

So, he had to try something else.

He needed to dig deeper. More personal. He needed just a sliver of space that he could crawl his way into so he could witness just a glimpse into your mind. So far he had been asking all of the practical stuff, and up till now that’s gotten him nowhere since the start of his passion project. Not as if he was in any rush to start his design, of course. Danny is quite a patient man by nature, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting annoyed by how bland you were being with him. 

Looking over your empty stare, Danny took a moment to study you. 

Danny is a people person. So he knew how to read people no matter the poker face, and you were no exception. Memorizing every detail of your features, the man could say with confidence that he could probably draw your face from memory. From the patterns in your irises, to any subtle wrinkle on your face. Danny had learned how to read your face. It was just getting you to change just the smallest detail that was the issue.

He needed you to open up. But how?

With his knife held tightly in his hand, Danny let out low, quiet breaths until finally he made a decision.

“Yeah,” he finally chuckled out, “This is my question for our game. What is on your mind right now?”

You still hadn’t moved, but your eyes did briefly glance over the masked killer once more before setting your stare to the fire in front of you where the flames highlighted your [skin tone] skin in a golden hue. 

“I’ve come to realize that I’ve long forgotten what ‘warmth’ feels like.” You spoke, a sort of interest lined within your words. 

This caught Danny’s attention. 

For as long as he’s studied you, he has not once heard or seen you show any kind of interest other than your assigned tasks. So having witnessed your fingers brushing over the campfire, and hearing the very subtle change in your tone, it hooked him in.

“I didn’t even realize you knew what that felt like.” He spoke, keeping a steady grip on his knife. “I thought you said you couldn’t feel anything.”

You took note of his slight change of demeanor, but you remained impassive as you hummed in response.

“Yes, well, I have felt cold before and I have felt warmth before, but it was a long while back.” You paused for a moment, “perhaps a few eons ago.”

“Oh?” Danny perked up, his blade ever so slightly pressing against your skin. His heart was beating quickly with excitement now that he seemed to finally be getting somewhere with you.

“And what might’ve made you lose your senses?” He asked, and for once in a very long time, Danny’s pupils dilated the moment he saw the faintest flicker of emotion appear in your eyes. 

Those usually vacant pools of [eye color]— they widened a bit. The colors brightened and he could see the crinkle at the very corner of your eyes shift from a misty void to a clear display of loss.

“I’m..unsure.”

Your voice, usually crisp and clear, seemed to have wavered a bit, leaving Danny with his heart pounding against his chest.

There. There it was.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the whole thing, but he swore for the first time that he saw a moment of weakness.

Danny hadn’t meant to do it. But he couldn’t help it. He pressed his knife hard against your skin. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he pressed the blade into your neck and pierce into your flesh.

He could see the blood trickle down your skin. That deep maroon color dribbling down your clear [skin tone] collarbone and staining your white dress shirt. He could practically smell the iron that stained his blade as he continued to press his knife deeper and deeper before twisting the handle and tearing it across your neck, practically decapitating your head from the rest of your body. 

Holding onto your torso tighter, Danny closed his eyes and savored the sounds of the quiet forest air that was filled with music from your choked gurgles.

Except… that wasn’t what happened.

For the moment his knife pressed into your neck, the blade instantly shattered.

Just like his first attempt on your life, any weapon that would try and penetrate your skin would instantly break like glass. 

Danny watched in stupor as shards of his blade fell into little bits and pieces onto the foggy ground. He was still in a daze, but much like his fallen knife, his illusion was shattered and left him standing behind you with his heart racing and mind numb from exhilaration. 

A long and heavy pause would ring in the forest air. Nothing but the sound of fire crackling would be heard as the two of you stood in silence.

While the killer was coming down from his high, you, on the other hand, stood there unconcerned. If anything, you had foreseen this coming from the moment The Ghostface tried to kill you the first time he brought a blade to your chest. You just figured he would try a different strategy since he wasn’t as bloodthirsty and adamant as The Shape. 

With your vision still fixated on the fire, you briefly moved your attention to the shattered blade on the ground before quickly looking back at the fire. Your body was still in the hands of Ghostface, granted his hold on you had loosened up, but you still kept yourself still as you looked over your shoulder to meet the masked killer’s eyes.

“It seems that you’ve accidentally shattered your knife again.” You commented, finally snapping Danny back to reality. 

Letting his arms fall to his side, Danny took a step back. He was pissed. He was so fucking angry that he didn’t get to actually tear into your throat. He didn’t actually get to experience seeing you bleed and die in his arms. 

However, as Danny stood silently behind you, from behind his mask, the man was practically glowing with joy. A smile was on his face as a breathless chuckle left his lips.

He was also very relieved. 

This is why you were his Mona Lisa. This is why he picked you to begin with. He was so glad you were going to be a challenge. If he had actually killed you, Danny was sure he’d make sure your body would rot from where you stood. But no. Danny was smart. There was a reason he chose you instead of one of the other survivors or killers in the realm. 

Letting out an airy laugh, Danny brought a hand to his head and ruffled his black hair from under his hood. 

He knew he made the right decision in choosing you.

While Danny laughed to himself, you simply stood there and observed. 

Humans, they were so odd. 

You know the sound he was making was that of laughter. You may not understand human nature, but you knew enough to realize that he was showing signs of amusement. You just couldn’t understand from what.

Once Danny settled down, the male finally looked over at you with a tilt of his head.

“This is why you’re my muse.” He commented with a sigh, and walked over to your side.

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around his interesting choice of words, but you didn’t get to dwell on it when he brought a hand to your shoulder. With his attention on his knife, Danny tilted his head in your direction.

“Do you mind?”

You blinked, “Mind?”

He smiled, “Fixing my knife. Can you work your magic again, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” Your eyes then flickered back to the blade broken into pieces on the ground at your feet. “Of course.”

Crouching down, you grabbed the handle of the knife and the biggest part of the blade. With your eyes glowing a [eye color] hue, a fog of black with golden particles floated into your hands and covered the broken pieces.

Danny watched in awe as his once shattered blade came back brand new. 

Again, he was practically grinning from ear to ear as he found that he was going to create the perfect design all for you. He was already buzzing with excitement just to see more of you. Whether you had or hadn’t actually expressed something earlier, Danny knew that either way you were already destined to be killed by his hands, and he was going to make sure that your death was going to be flawless.

Standing back up, you presented the knife to the killer, “Here you go.”

Carefully, Danny took the knife and twirled it in his hand. 

“Good as new,” he breathed out while practicing his jabs into the open air. With a smile, Danny pocketed the knife before turning his attention to you. “Thank you. Hope that didn’t take a lot out of you.”

You shook your head, “Not at all. If you need any more repairs to any of your weapons, I am here to assist.”

“Right, right. I’ll remember that,” Danny expressed lamely, before bringing a hand to his pocket. Still having his blood pumping vigorously through his veins, the male was nearly itching to start his trial. So digging into his pocket, Danny brought out three items: a chewed up pen, his old driver’s license, and originally he planned on taking out a shiny broken coin, but after the illusion of killing you, the killer was just driven by his murderous instincts to kill by his own hands.

So instead, the male brought out a bag. Opening up the small coin bag, Danny took a quick peek at the glowing red triangles and brought it over to you. 

“Do you think I can buy an offering?”

Your eyes not once wavered from his mask as you took his bag. With your eyes briefly flickering down to scan the bag, you kept your voice firm upon returning your attention to him, “What would you like?”

Danny’s eyes were feral and bloodshot. His smile was hurting his cheeks as he already began plotting his next few designs. He may not have been able to kill you today, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to create a horror story at all.

So with his head tilting playfully, Danny let out a raspy, shuddered breath. 

“I want a memento mori.”

You nodded. And again, the crawling mist all around the two of you swirled with life. It was comical to Danny. Because while a human skull was formed within your hands, the air around reeked of rotting death.

Breathing in the fog, Danny closed his eyes and relished in the silence of the blowing wind that moved the black mist. If he listened closely, Danny swore that he could hear ghastly whispers move with the rustling forest leaves.

Then, it was silent once more.

Opening his eyes, Danny turned his attention to you. He watched as you stared back into the campfire. With the glow of the fire highlighting your features, Danny took note of your expression.

He couldn’t read you again. You were as emotionless as a doll. Simply standing there with a pretty, flawless mask.

Flickering his attention from your side profile and back down to the skull in your open palms, Danny silently took the skull from your hands and tossed his pen, license, and skull into the campfire where the flames burst with life and shrilled a loud shrieks before returning to crackles. 

As Danny stood next to you at the campfire, the male kept his attention straight at the dancing fire. He wanted to get the trial started as soon as possible, while he was still in a pleasant mood.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Ghostface Would Include:

He's very good at stalking. He can wait in the shadows until he sees you in public, he can find your address, and he can do all sorts of things to make sure you’re together, even when you don’t know it. He is also very good at manipulating people. He’d get you to break out of your shell and do things that would feel more natural around him, letting him get closer. He’d be obsessive and possessive, and he wouldn’t let anyone else near you because you’re his.

He'd also be very protective of you like you're a prized possession. He would want to be your whole world and make sure no one or anything else got in the way of your love for him.

He'd be jealous of any friends you have, or family because they get your attention and time that you could be spending with him. He'd start off being sweet and charming and slowly turn possessive and obsessive.

He'd probably follow you around whenever you go out just so he can see who you're hanging out with. He'd question you a lot and want to know everything about your life. He won't let you have any secrets.

He’d probably be a lot more subtle in front of other people. He’d be the kind to make small remarks and throw insults that only you’d understand. In public, he might go as far as casually putting an arm around you or brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, just to let everyone know you’re his.

He'd be very big on giving you reassurance. He'd remind you all the time how much he loves you and how important you are to him, just to make sure you never forget who he is and why you’re together. He'd probably say things like "You just don't know how much you mean to me" or "You're the only thing in this world that makes sense."

He would only need reassurance if there was any reason for him to believe you didn’t want him anymore. He very much has the mindset of “it’s me or no one”, so if you were to show any signs of wanting to leave or be with someone else, he would get very aggressive about it. Otherwise, he’d be extremely confident and smug. I hope you like clingy.

He’s really big on rewards. If you do something he likes, he’ll make sure to give you something. Whether it be jewelry, clothes, food, or anything you want really, you’d get it. The bigger the gesture, the more he likes what you did.

He’d be pretty strict on the punishments. If you lie, go out without telling him, talk about other people, or do any of the things he’s told you not to, he’d make sure you knew how angry he was. It’d probably range from him being cold and quiet for hours to full-on berating you.

He doesn’t like having any kind of arguments. He will have very strong opinions about how things should be, and if you disagree with them he’ll snap. He’ll get very hostile and start yelling, telling you that you were made for him and that you’d do well not to forget that. If you argue back, he’d probably pin you up against a wall or something.

He’s a big fan of PDAs. He’ll go out of his way to show you and other people that you’re his property; he’ll be grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close, leaning over you, holding your hand, all sorts of things. In private, he’d shower you with all kinds of affection. He’d want to be on you at all times, cuddling or holding you as often as possible.

That’ll depend on how you like to be treated. For him, he’d want to do big gestures like big surprise gifts and expensive dinners, if you’re into that sort of thing. He’d want to take you to places that you’d enjoy, but only the things that he approves of, because god forbid you find any joy without him being your source. He’d want to be constantly holding your hand and being all over you, just again to make sure people know you’re his.

He’d probably start asking questions. Asking “Why” and “What did I do?” to make you want to break up with him. If that got him nowhere, he’d probably start trying to make you change your mind, throwing his love in your face, telling you he did everything for you, and stuff like that. He’d start getting more and more desperate and upset the longer you insist that you are breaking up.

It wouldn't probably take a lot to get him to kill for his darling. Like it’d have to be a bad situation, like another person trying to hurt or take them away from him. If that were the case, he wouldn’t think twice about killing anyone who got in his way.

He’d have a whole shrine set up, like a creepy one. He’d have a picture of you at the center and it’d be surrounded by things from your relationship. Gifts you gave him, things that remind him of you. Maybe a strand of your hair or some of your jewelry. He’d probably visit it every day and reminisce and be all sappy about you, maybe talk to the shrine-like he’s talking to you.

He’d want it more than anything. He’d plan an elaborate, big wedding, something that’s just grand and he could show how much he loves you. He’d definitely be a traditionalist, he’d want the white wedding dress and a big bouquet toss and all of the cliche stuff. And if you even for a second question any of his decisions for the wedding plans, he’d get really huffy, because it’s his wedding and he gets to call the shots.

He’d definitely be all in on kids. And by that, I mean all in on having you carry the kids and do the majority of taking care of them. He’d think that it would solidify the bond you guys have, that now you’re connected for life, and that a child is your legacy together, and that it would be something no one else could have. You better like baby talk, because that’ll be a thing, too.

That would put a real damper on things. He’ll be incredibly upset that you’re rejecting giving him children because he wants to be a “father”. He’s got that whole mindset of “leaving a legacy” behind, and this would feel like your rejection of him. If you couldn’t have children, he’d probably get really angry and throw it in your face that because you can’t have his kids, you’re only “half of a woman”, in his own words.

“You’re mine. All my mine. Nothing and no one can replace you, do you understand that? You were made to be mine. You belong to me. You’re never ever leaving me. You can try all you want, but you’ll never be able to get rid of me. We’re bonded now, I’ve made sure of it. We’re all we need. You don’t need anyone but me, and I don’t need anything in the world if I can have you.”

Messy scenes - The more mess involved during sex, the better. Cum on faces, bodies covered in sweat and fluids, or even accidental spills all contribute to a chaotic, raw, and utterly filthy experience that he craves.

Impact play - Spanking, flogging, or using toys like paddles and whips to inflict pain or pleasure (or both) is a major turn-on for him. The sting, the marks left behind, and the release it provides are all part of the appeal.

Multiple orgasms - Witnessing you reach climax multiple times is incredibly erotic for him. It's a testament to your endurance and resilience, which only makes him want you more.

The chase - Pursuing someone who's reluctant or hesitant only fuels his desire further. The struggle to win you over sexually is thrilling and satisfying.

Humiliation - In certain contexts, being humiliated or degraded verbally can actually enhance his arousal and lead to more intense orgasms.

Roleplay - Roleplaying dark, edgy scenes involving themes like captivity, non-consent, or extreme dominance/submission really turns him on. Even if it's just pretend, the intensity of these fantasies is a significant part of his erotic imagination.

[dominantslasherking]

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen With Dominant S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+.

Backstory: Danny is getting possessive once these idiotic copycat killers try to come after his man--(you) (Danny can travel through the entity realm and ours whenever he has free time btw.)

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The voice on the other end was loud and clear, and also used a voice modulator...this was the 3rd time this week. You hung up.

This all was happening because your boyfriend being the goofy ass he was involved you in one of his murder games, and to get you off the 'hook' or whatever Danny made the media believe you are a survivor that got away from the infamous ghostface killer.

And now obviously Danny's little stupid fan boys are trying to 'finish what he started' But no it wasn't Danny who dealt with them, it was you, I mean you dealt with these little copycats with ease.

Danny couldn't protect you even if he insisted on it, he had to still do the games in the entity's realm with the other slashers. But you were fine, you didn't need his help.

The phone continued to ring on end, and every time it would stop it just started to go back to ringing, you can tell the copycat on the other end was extremely annoyed, you didn't doubt he was already in your house.

You heard rustling behind you, a smirk got to your face as you suddenly turned around, and grabbed the copycat's neck your other hand grabbing his wrist where he held the knife up high.

"L-e-t go!" The copycat growled slightly, as you easily held him in place, tightening your grip on his wrist, making him drop his knife. You took a little time to admire his outfit, it was cheap and he probably got it at a nearby costume shop.

you stared at him with your sharp [Eye color] letting out a small laugh at the pathetic nature of the copycat, he didn't come close, not even a little bit to the real thing, I mean if Danny was in the position you knew he would make some type of sexual joke.

Suddenly you heard a strange swirling sound behind you. The feeling of someone hugging you close from behind caused you to drop the copycat.

"Hey~ Babe, I missed you so---" Danny paused, his masked eyes tilting towards the cheap knockoff version of his suit sitting on the floor and turning his way, the copycat took off his mask eagerly and spoke in shock.

"Oh god, oh crap, I'm a big fan, holy shit I-" The copy cat couldn't say a word more, as Danny had registered that this stupid knockoff little bitch was in his boyfriend's house?!

Danny couldn't help but laugh so loud that it would send shivers down anyone's spine. "Are you serious? Are you fucking with me?" Danny paused letting go of his boyfriend as he stopped hugging you..

"My boyfriend, in my boyfriend's house---!! MY--[Your Name] touching you?" Danny dove toward the copycat, brutally stabbing, over and over and over.

You couldn't help but think, that all that blood on the floor would be a bitch to clean up, at least it wasn't on your carpet...

Danny slowly rose up, his entire body twitching slightly from unhinged rage plus psychotic tendencies. Danny could be heard taking in deep breaths before facing you with a seemingly calm demeanor.

"Hey babe? You wanna move to my place?" Danny's demeanor took a whole switch as he was now acting adorable and a bit whiny very needy.

"Please? I promise I'll let you claim me all over in my house~" Danny lightly purred sliding his knife back into his outfit.

[yandere-wishes]

Okay, so I'm 100% going to do GhostFace!Anakin x reader (even if it'll probably be out by Christmas as opposed to Halloween😭😭) But I gotta know should I add characters representing the og cast? ( I.E: Anakin=Billy, Stu=Maul, Ahsoka = Tatum, Reader= Sydney etc) or should it just be Anakin and the reader? I could always write another fic Where both Anakin and Maul are Ghostface and give that one more of the og "Scream" movie vibe.

PS I'm also going to write a Yandere! Billy Loomis x reader at some point. Probably during Christmas break or March break, we'll see.

[liliesdiary]

Ghostface's Broken Doll

CW: dubcon, kidnapping, being held hostage, being used as a personal sex slave, choking , blood, restraints, bondage, doll pet name, pink ribbon around throat, cunt slapping, brutal sex, degradation and praise, somnophillia, bruises, cuts

Part One: "Please Don't Kill Me Mr.Ghostface!"

Part Two: Ghostface's Sex Doll

@im-fostering-it292 @kyumist @haeinsworld @taylormarieee

A broken doll. that's what you were to him. An obedient doll, listening to every command. He loved to violate you and you loved it.

Your wet cunt was dripping as the masked man fucked your throat once again, treating you as his sex doll. There was a pink ribbon once again tied around your pretty throat, looking like a pretty present waiting to be opened. You always kept your legs open for him, waiting for the next assault like the good doll you were.

He always came back to you, his white mask covered in blood yet his knife was always drenched in it. You were terrified of him yet you yearned for his touch. There you were again, obeying him. Sitting on the floor and opening your mouth as wide as you could to satisfy him. Your wet cunt dripping at this killer using you for his own pleasure. You stared at the mask, your doll eyes filled with tears. You wondered about who was under the mask, your eyes never leaving his mask.

He groaned as he pulled that ribbon tight around your throat and fucked your throat, his favorite thing to fuck and abuse. He loved to fill your mouth with nothing but his cum.

“You're such a good doll for me. Keep looking at me like that, doll. You have such pretty eyes.”, He whispers as he brutally fucks your throat.

Your cunt drips even more at the tone of his deep voice, your heart flutters as the man compliments your eyes as he assaults you. Your moans and gags filled the room, drool and precum stain your lips. He loved the way you looked, covered in his mess, he knew you loved it.

He grabbed your head roughly and shoved you further down onto his cock, suffocating you as he came deep inside.

“Swallow it all, good doll. You've learned your place already, so pathetic, it only took a couple of weeks to break you.”

You tremble and try to stay still as you choke on his cock. Your body was in so much pain, you loved it. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and unchained your weak body. Your body was stained with blood and bruises. The name, ghostface, was carved all over your fragile body, reminding you of who you belong to.

He picked your weak body gently and set you on the bed like a pretty little toy to play with.

“Be a good little toy and open your legs.” He says as he stroked his big veiny cock. You opened your legs wide for him, revealing your dripping wet cunt.

“You're such a pathetic doll. Look at how fucking wet you are from me abusing you. Such a sick little bitch that deserves to be abused and treated like the whore you are.”, He said as he roughly spanked your wet cunt.

He roughly entered inside of you, grabbing that pretty pink ribbon and strangling you as he fucked your weak body. “You're nothing but a warm hole for my cock.”

You moaned at his degrading words, crying as he was right. You were nothing but a warm hole for him. A sex doll for this monster.

He fucked your body so rough, you were afraid he was going to break you. His grip around your throat made you frozen in fear, you were slowly entering in and out of consciousness as he used you. Your eyes were wide as you gasped for air.

“It’s okay doll, go to sleep. I'll take good care of you. Rest, my broken doll.” His sweet manipulative words echo in your mind as you slowly start to pass out.

“Good doll.”, he whispers as he continues to assault your unconscious body. His hands lets go of the ribbon and roam around your cracked porcelain skin, he yearned to leave more cracks within you. His hands touch your face as his cock slid in and out of your wet cunt that welcomed his cock so easily, your body knew who it belonged to.

A broken doll, he repeated in his head as he fucked you. Your perfect tits bouncing as he pounded you. He groped them, kissing them as his thrusts became more rough. He was close, his grip on your tits grew tighter with each thrust. He then finally came inside of you once more, staining you and ruining you.

The sight of your broken body laid on the bed, covered in his cum and tears. That pretty pink ribbon around your throat drenched in his cum. He untied the pink ribbon and tossed it to the side of the bed. It left a nasty red mark that made him smile. You were a beautiful broken doll. His broken doll.

[ceruark]

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL.

synopsis: yan! hsr men as slasher movie killers… and “love interests.” [blade, boothill, aventurine, sunday] words: 3.1k cw: yandere themes: obsession, stalking. slasher elements, gore. a/n: happy friday the 13th to all who celebrate

BLADE is already pretty much like Michael Myers from Halloween: large man, terrifying presence, unfathomable kill count, and cannot die. No matter what you do, no matter how many times you or the other survivors find a way to kill him, he keeps coming back, and with renewed vengeance every time.

The first time you’d been subjected to his knife was at a summer camp. Having gone there every summer for years growing up, you grew attached to the place and decided to pick up a role as a counselor in the summers following your high school graduation, and they passed peacefully. However, in the few months leading up to your college graduation, misfortune befell the small town where the camp was located. Someone’s grave had been dug up, and just weeks after that, people started turning up dead, their bodies littered with so many stab wounds that some were unrecognizable.

Given the ongoing investigation, the counselors and other camp staff requested that the summer camp not reopen, but the owners and even some parents insisted they stay open, and so despite your better judgment, you returned. You needed the money, and you knew how to defend yourself— if anything happened, you could keep yourself and your kids safe.

At least, that’s what you believed. When the man appears in the doorway of your cabin, his stocky figure silhouetted by the moonlight and leaving two red eyes gleaming down at you, you know there’s not a chance in hell you’re making it out of there alive.

You’d thrown yourself at him, yelling for your kids to escape through the back. He’s been merciless, sinking his knife into your flesh over and over again, but you persevered and fought back until you were sure every single one of your kids had made it a good distance away from the cabin. At some point you’d collapsed, from exhaustion and blood loss.

The doctors said it was a miracle you survived. They had your house guarded since he hadn’t been detained, but once word of his death by police gunfire got around, things calmed down significantly. You relaxed over the years, letting your guard down and believing that things could return to normal. Serial killings all over the nation popped up, but you worried not—after all, the killer you were concerned with was dead.

One of the survivors reached out to you five years after that fateful night, wishing to get together with the others who lived to get drinks and properly move on from everything. It was, of course, a set up; Blade had returned, and the man who invited you believed he’d be spared if he got the rest of the survivors together in one place.

He’d been the first one murdered that night. 

Once again, you narrowly dodged death, just barely managing to get yourself to a hospital before you received one stab wound too many. Time goes on, and no matter how many times they put a bullet through his head, he manages to come back. The list of survivors has grown, but the list of victims is now countless.

You’re in your thirties when the police reach out to the adult survivors. There’s a new survivor: a five year-old girl by the name of Yunli. Her parents had been ruthlessly slaughtered, but he hadn’t touched even a single hair on the young girl’s hair. She didn’t have any living family, and so, you agreed to take her in. 

Life is easier with Yunli in it. A bright, spunky little thing, she brings joy to your days and some semblance of a family that you’ve been too scared to seek out. It’s nice to have the sound of laughter filling your home.

That same laughter has you smiling tonight, the girl’s giggling floating down the hallway and into the kitchen, where you’re washing dishes. A quick glance at the microwave’s clock tells you it’s close to her bedtime, and she’s far more energetic than she typically would be at this time. You wipe your hands off on a dish towel and walk down the hall toward her room, wishing to find out what’s working her up at this hour and wanting to tell her to wind down before bed.

You knock lightly before turning the knob. You get the door open a crack before the sight on the other side of it leaves you frozen, horrified.

He’s in Yunli’s room, kneeling before her as she shows him the many dolls you’ve bought her. His knife is on the floor beside him, and the eyes that have haunted your dreams for years pierce into you, pinning you where you stand.

The girl seems… happier with you, than she had been with her parents. Perhaps he’ll have to be kinder to you this time.

BOOTHILL gives me Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibes in terms of how he kills and the brutality of it all, but not personality-wise. No, I actually think he’d be quite personable with that southern charm of his— so of course, no one would ever expect him to do anything unspeakable.

You and your friends are on a road trip when the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing but fields of crops as far as the eye can see, and the only sign of civilization is a barn, some stables, and a few coops with two houses near them about a mile away from where you’re standing.

You all make the trek, hoping to be able to get some help from the people living there. Worst case scenario, if it’s all been abandoned, you can squat there and look for tools to help you fix the car. But to your surprise, when you knock, a kind-looking man with wild white and black hair opens the door, and after hearing about your situation, is more than happy to be of assistance.

He tows the car onto his property and takes a look at it, determining that the entire engine needs to be replaced. Given his distance from the nearest auto shop, he says he’ll leave for town Sunday afternoon and get the part on Monday morning. It’s going to be an all-day trip, so he likely won’t be back until early Tuesday morning.

You’ve got a couple days to get to know him, in the meantime. Your friends absolutely adore him, pointing out how good of a guy he is, some even pointing out how attractive he is. You scoff one night as he’s making dinner away from where you’re all sitting, as one of your friends starts a bet on if any of you will be able to sleep with him before all of this is over.

Sunday afternoon comes all too soon, though, and none of you get very far with him before he’s heading off in his truck toward the nearest town. You’re a bit shocked that he would so willingly leave a group of strangers in his house unattended, but you chalk it up to his kindness that seems to be boundless.

You should have been far more concerned.

You’re all woken up that night by the sound of a chainsaw revving, shortly followed by one of your friend’s horrible shrieking. The room devolves into panic and chaos as you watch her get torn to shreds by the very man who invited you into his home, now donning a mask of what you hope is animal skin.

You all flee in different directions, but he knows the property better than you do, and sure enough, your friends are picked off one by one until you’re the last one standing. You narrowly dodge some of the traps he’s set up and take refuge in the stables, struggling to keep yourself together as you hear your friend’s cries in the distance. 

While looking for something to defend yourself with, you find a box hidden in a pile of hay. It’s locked, but you force it open, dumping its contents on the floor. A pistol, a few handwritten letters, and pictures of a woman and a young girl. You place the pistol beside you before your curiosity takes over, causing you to slowly go through and study the pictures.

In your distracted state, you failed to notice that he’d gotten into the stables. You jump to your feet when the chainsaw revs just a few feet in front of you. You turn off the safety and raise the gun, your hand steady and your shot clear.

He’s lost so much in his life, and it’s driven him to madness. And you, you remind him of something— someone precious who he lost to illness, to the cruelty of life.

He can’t lose you again. He won’t allow you to leave.

And that’s not something you’ll realize until he’s staring at you from the barrel of a gun you believe is loaded, laughing for a reason you can’t understand.

AVENTURINE stepped right out of a Scream movie. He’s a classic Ghostface-type killer, phone calls and everything. He’s certainly got the charisma needed to make the intimidating phone calls, and I feel like he would enjoy stalking and toying around with his prey a bit before going in for the kill. 

You could probably argue that he’s not the type to want to make things messy, but I feel like in this case, he would be using this as an outlet, meaning all his kills are brutal and gory. (Creative, at times, too. The police will give him that.) There’s just something so comforting about being covered in blood, the warm liquid almost serving as a warm embrace.

For him, there aren’t any better targets than his close friend group. He knows all their darkest secrets, and has no problem using his knowledge to torment them and easily back them into a corner, too panicked to see him coming until it’s too late. These people have always been fake, anyway, and he knows they’ve always looked down on him. Can you really blame him for taking out the trash?

And then, of course, there’s you. You’re not a saint by any means— no, you’ve got your fair share of skeletons in the closet, and each secret you divulge to him because of the trust you foolishly placed in him is sweeter than any death he could imagine giving you. Maybe that’s what draws him to you so much; where everyone else wears a mask, there’s something about you that’s genuine, and it’s a side of you that you’ve entrusted to only him.

So when the killer finally shows up on your doorstep, he’s the one you turn to. As you’re on the phone with the killer, responding to his taunts in an attempt to figure out where exactly he is in your house, you’re texting Aventurine on the side and sending him what you believe is your last goodbye. 

“Do you want to be forgiven?” The disguised voice on the other line croons into your ear. “Do you think you should be?”

You’ve just pressed send on your message when a hand seizes you by the back of the neck and throws you to the ground. The impact of hitting the hardwood floor distracts you from the sound of a phone buzzing nearby. You scramble backward, attempting to get to your feet as you do, but the masked man grabs onto your foot and sinks his knife into your calf, ripping a pained screech from your throat.

He drags you back toward him before settling on top of you, his legs straddling your waist rather suggestively. He sinks his blade into you and drags it across your skin slowly, the scorching pain leaving you writhing and crying out in pain.

He flees once he hears sirens in the distance. The police find you on the floor of your living room with four stab wounds and multiple cuts. Aventurine shows up not long after them, disheveled and worried and flashing the police the text you sent him. They allow him to ride in the ambulance with you, admiring his intent to endanger himself if it meant saving you.

You’re so frazzled that you don’t even notice he showed up at your house way sooner than he should’ve, as though he was already nearby. You just blindly turn to him for comfort, clutching onto him for dear life. It’s cute.

He runs his hands through your hair soothingly, shushing you and gently rubbing your back as you sob into his shoulder. You shouldn’t worry so much, dear. He’s here now, and he’ll make sure no one else lays a finger on you ever again.

You don’t realize your grave mistake until you’re standing in Jade’s basement, her brutalized body at your feet and a metal pipe in your hands. You can defend yourself all you like, but it’s far too easy for the masked killer to evade your swings and land his blade in your shoulder, your stomach, your thigh. All places that won’t kill you, of course.

When you finally collapse to your knees, sobbing hysterically and succumbing to your fate, the killer unexpectedly drops to his knees beside you. He wraps his arms around you and presses his chest to your back, trapping you in his hold. You shudder as he runs his blade along your face and neck, smearing your own blood across your soft skin.

“It’s okay,” he coos, and the familiar voice makes you freeze. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The mocking laughter that follows makes your heart drop, and the rest of your hope vanishes.

SUNDAY is definitely involved in some Children of the Corn type of shit. Some supernatural slasher stuff where there’s a cult behind everything, and he’s at the head of it all.

Ena is not a kind god. Countless generations of Oaks have tried various methods of worship and offerings, but none work quite as well as the human sacrifice. This is something Mr. Wood had taught him from a very young age, explaining to Sunday their history as he methodically cut up whichever poor soul had wandered into their humble, hidden town that week.

As head of the Family, he’s exemplary. No one has ever wielded a blade quite like he has, his hand always steady and unflinching. His blessed hands bring prosperity to the land that has never been seen before, Ena’s favor raining down on him and his people. He is as revered as their god at this point, and there is nothing his people would not do for him.

The road trip you make every year to your parent’s house for Thanksgiving was a long one, and a sudden downpour along the way has you rolling to a stop in the nearest town. You plan to just take shelter at a restaurant and grab a bite to eat while you’re there, then fill up on gas and be on your merry way once everything clears up. 

Everyone is so kind, though. The locals in the restaurant make conversation with you, asking about your life and cooing at you once you explain that you’re on your way to visit your family. You spend most of your time talking to the people at the table next to you, a man and his sister, and you get so lost in conversation that you haven’t even realized night has fallen. You pay your bill and are ready to head out when the man stops you.

“You should stay the night at one of the inns,” he advises, a delicate hand placed on your shoulder. “There are still storm clouds, and it could start pouring again at any moment. It would be unfortunate to have to travel through that, especially at night.”

You check the forecast, and to your dismay, he’s right. With his help, you check into a hotel across the street, and you thank him for his assistance before you turn in for the night.

Your peaceful sleep is soon disrupted by a rag being held over your mouth and nose, startling you awake. At this point, you’ve already breathed in the chloroform, and you barely have time to register the formless figures around your bed dressed in shades of white and navy blue before you pass out.

You wake up in an underground cellar, stone walls encasing you in cold nothingness. There are four other people in the room with you, also bound and gagged and staring back at you with wide-eyed terror. There are screams of pain echoing down the stairs from somewhere above you all, the sound of synchronized chanting doing little to mask it.

It’s not difficult to guess what fate awaits you.

Young children dressed in extremely formal clothing bring you all food and water. They’re sweet to you all, terribly so. You’re not sure how long you’re down there, but the time you have left is counted down with each person that is taken out of the room. There are new people brought into the cellar, but once the original four you were with are gone, you know your time has come.

The next time the shapeless people in robes descend the steps, they reach for you. You’re injected with some kind of sedative before you even have the chance to lash out at them, and the blindfold they place over your eyes seems pointless, since you black out, anyways.

When you wake, your arms and legs are bound to some kind of marble slab that you’ve been laid on. You’ve been stripped, and your skin is covered in some kind of oil. It’s cold, and the vulnerability of being exposed just makes your situation all the worse.

Your breath hitches and your pitiful, muffled cries for help stop when you feel something sharp prick your skin. Sunday lightly applies pressure to the knife in his hand, carving beautiful patterns along the surface of your skin. With his free hand, he traces a gloved finger over the beads of blood the blade leaves behind, his touch so devout it’s downright sinful. The sight of you brings him pause, the knife stopping all too suddenly.

It is the first time he has hesitated during a ritual.

Perhaps… you’re not meant to be sacrificed. No, surely something as divine as you is meant for much more than that. Perhaps Ena has lured you here just for him, a reward for his unwavering faith, steady leadership, and all he has done for their people.

“As the highest among us,” Mr. Wood had said the day he named Sunday the new head of the Family, “you have first pick at reaping Ena’s blessings.”

Ena is not a kind god. But perhaps, just this once, they would allow him to be selfish.

[fromduck]

Me with you guys simping over hot men

[nolovelingers]

ETHAN LANDRY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsession ,, nsfw !! just a reminder that this man is in fact a killer, it’s not gonna be all lovey lovey goody goody 24/7. !!

——————————————————————————

SFW !!

ETHAN LANDRY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . would be an experience like no other. you’ve never met anyone quite like him, and though he can be one of the sweetest and most thoughtful boys you’ve ever met, he often has mood swings that can scare you heavily.

easy to anger, if you say one bad joke about him, do something he doesn’t approve of or if he catches you suddenly growing distant, he throws tantrums, yelling, punching things and performing the best crocodile tears you might’ve ever seen.

he’s never had a girlfriend before, and before you he’s never even held hands with a girl; so he doesn’t know quite exactly how to love properly, and it doesn’t help that he’s quite a twisted person all together since hes, well, a serial killer.

there is no inbetween with ethan. he will hate you, or he will love you obsessively. there is no “talking stage” or “getting to know each other” with ethan. he will jump straight to the point.

if he feels you slowly cutting ties with him or that you may try to leave him; he takes extreme measures. threatening to hurt himself, your family/friends, and if it gets drastic maybe even yourself. though he has absolutely no initial intention to harm you, if he feels he must just to get you to stay with him, he will do what needs to be done. nothing too bad of course, maybe just a few cuts.

however, if you’re good to him and give him nothing but your love and affection, the both of you will practically be on cloud nine the entire relationship.

he’s always wanted a girlfriend and you’ve made his wishes come true, he can never repay you for enough.

he gets jealous quite easily, and though he does a good enough job at hiding it in the moment, he’ll get quite confrontational when it’s just the two of you.

he’ll help you study, carrying all of your books for you, your bags, your backpack, keep your phone in his pocket when you have none, anything you need help with hes there to assist.

he can still get a bit shy around you even several months into the relationship, sometimes the feeling of love and joy he gets around you too much for him to wrap his mind around.

to be frank, he sucks at flirting. when he’s not hiding behind his fake personality; a shy schoolboy, he’s typically very blunt about things, straight to the point, or he’ll avoid it all together simply because he’s never had the practice of flirting. you’d need to give him a few tips.

he’s very dorky, actually. big into all sorts of movies, comics and shows. especially horror movies, not to be cheesy but they are just something he adores.

if you’re sensitive to horror movies, it’s even better. he loves when you jump, seeing your scared face as you clutch onto him for support, or hide your face under the blanket which never fails to make him smile.

however if it’s the total opposite, and horror does nothing to you, he’ll have no problem in taking on the roll of being scared just to get closer to you and have you soothe and cradle him in your arms, hiding his face in your neck and whining about the scary jump scares or the blood being too much.

your first kiss was honestly pretty bad. he had no idea what he was doing and he kissed you like how your mom would kiss your forehead after wishing you a good day at school. it was terrible, he didn’t go for your top or bottom lip, he literally touched his lips to yours and puckered up for a few seconds.

after practicing for a little bit though, he gets the hang of it and become a decently good kisser.

going into the relationship anytime you kiss it was a little awkward, he wouldn’t touch your body or your face, just lean his head in and expecting you to do the rest. as he gets more comfortable though he eventually becomes the type to rest one hand on your cheek and the other loosely behind your back.

he loves hickeys. he likes to give them, of course he does, marking you is one of the best experiences ever in his mind, but he has such a weak spot when he’s on the receiving end. begging you for more, chest rising and falling as you suck at his most sensitive spots, small groans of arousal falling out from his plumped lips, sore from the make out session you two had just shared while his mouth hangs slightly open and brows furrowed closely together in ecstasy.

if you try to cover the hickeys he gives you, he gets a bit offended. even if it was for school or because you had to see your parents, he would never dream of hiding the dark patches you gave him, from anyone, proud to show off the fact that you loved him; and he sees no reason why you would wish to conceal them. if he notices blobs of makeup trying to wash away the love marks depending on the mood he was in he’d either a) roughly rub the concealer off with his fingers, asking you why you’re so ashamed to be with him and guilt you to death, or b) purely suffer in silence, pouting at the sight and giving you the cold shoulder. not that it would last long anyway, he hates when you don’t talk.

ethan would kill for you. he really would. whether it be some poor old woman who knocked her cart into yours by accident at the grocery or some built guy who tried flirting with you on campus; it wouldn’t be even two days before the news reports them as deceased, brutally butchered with a knife.

he loves to take notes for you, dumbing them down better than how the teacher explained so it wouldn’t be so difficult for you to understand, taking a yellow highlighter and going over the key points of the lesson and marking a few (poorly drawn) doodles.

you lost your notes? don’t worry, take his entire notebook! oh, you only needed yesterdays history notes? well, now you have his entire notebook in your possession. it’s no big deal, he’ll just make more.

joining him in econ dates from time to time are a must. he loves study dates, and anytime you attempt to have one at his or your dorm it just ends in notebooks tossed aside and his lips on yours, so your safest bet to actually get work done is to just join him in econ. holding hands under the table and watching him do his work with a concentrated face.

he’s not the richest guy around, but if you want something he’s either going to buy it assuming he can afford it, or just kill and mug some person on the street for the money. trust me, he’s tried to steal before and it didn’t go so well. theft is not something he’s good at getting away with, so he’ll just stick to murder for the time being. he’s not good at being discreet or locating the cameras.

ethans smart, he genuinely is. he’s at the top of almost all of his classes and teachers favor him, which means they favor you. he was a genius before, however ever since he got with you he’s done nothing but excel even further.

he’s so proud to have you as his partner, you’re genuinely the thing he’s most proud of. the best part of him is you. his notes app is filled to the brim about everything there is to know about you, what you like, your past hyperfixations, important information, stuff you’ve mentioned you wanted.

you are both his home and lockscreen and everytime he sees your face pop up on his phone his heart flutters a bit.

you’re pinned to the top of his messages and the only person he has notifications on for. everyone else is on silenced, and he only has a total of 4 other contacts saved that aren’t you. his dad, his sister, chad and tara. he didn’t even bother for mindy, anika or sam; and besides them he knows no one else.

he’d drop anything for you in seconds, no matter how important it was. all you have to do is ask, and god forbid if you beg him. he’d drop to his knees right there. even if he was in the middle of an important family meeting about how to continue executing the ghostface plan, if you beg him to cancel (not knowing what exactly it was he had to do anyway) or even gloss your eyes slightly to give him the illusion of tears he’s all yours for the rest of the day.

he’s extremely touch deprived and is awkward when initiating it unless it’s something like slinging his arm over your shoulder, which he never once had a problem with. you’re usually always the first to initiate hand holding and cuddles, which he’s so grateful for. he doesn’t know how to go about asking.

when you do hold hands though, he’ll literally never let you go. even if you have to leave, do something with two hands or just try to remove your hand from his; he’ll tighten his grip (not so rough that it hurts) to stop you from doing do without even noticing, so you basically have to ask him to stop holding your hand which is far more embarrassing than just letting go, but he really doesn’t even notice when he does this.

he loves the way you smell, and there has definitely been a number of times where you catch him sniffing your hair on the perfume/cologne on your neck, potentially even asking you for the name of it so he can go out and get his own to spray on his pillows and a few of his shirts.

this also applies with your shampoo and conditioner. he doesn’t primarily use the ones that you do, but he’s got the exact type stored under a cabinet so that when he’s particularly missing you he’ll use them in his locks instead of his usual kind.

sharing headphones and having a joint playlist is a must with him. you two have a collaborative playlist that you both add songs to and listen to when you’re together that ethan has just started listening to constantly now.

he doesn’t have much social media. he doesn’t have snapchat. he does have an instagram that you forced him to download just so you could send him reels but he never posts on it. he has tiktok, but he’s literally just not logged in so he doesn’t have an actual account. he does have twitch though which is what he uses the most.

he’d never let anyone hurt you, and if they do he doesn’t just get angry, he becomes furious, their death much more brutal than any past ones. their was a time where he took a stab to the shoulder after quinn charged at you with a knife as ghostface, even after ethan specifically told her not to lay a finger on you. she hadn’t planned on killing you but she wanted to get a couple hits in, which ethan was extremely against. their father later lectured the both of them about the situation.

he specifically made sure you were at the hospital with mindy when the reveal went down.

NSFW !!

he really wasn’t lying about being a virgin, he had no idea how the body worked and he was always way too nervous to initiate anything sexual between the two of you.

you had definitely turned him on before, his dick growing hard at the sight or thought of you; and he always wondered what it would feel like to be buried deep inside you. or to have your pretty mouth wrapped around his shaft, gagging from his length and the vibrations of your moans sending shivers down his spine.

but no words could ever do justice to how it felt the first time you slept together.

he didn’t finish as fast as you assumed he would and actually did a decent job at holding out, but he definitely didn’t break any records or anything.

he’s 100% a switch, quick to go from whining and crying out for your touch to holding you down beneath him, hand pushing your jaw upwards and fingers carefully wrapped around you neck as he takes everything he wants and more; those are on his most aggressive days.

he loves receiving head more than he likes to give, but if you ask him he’s definitely eager to please you. he’s just nervous he’s not doing well, and to be quite honest he’s not the greatest at picking up your body language at what you’re enjoying and what you’re not unless you really make it noticeable.

one of his favorite things is the sounds you make. he absolutely hates it when you try to silence or muffle your noises, making sure to go harder or rougher so that you’re not able to even try.

he buries his head in your neck as he’s rutting into you, watching the way your body bounces around his dick and unable to stop his own sounds from falling out as his mind goes blank in ecstasy.

he’s more of a whiny and grunty type than a whimper guy, but there are definitely moments when a string of curses mixed with desperate whimpers fall from his lips.

when he’s feeling more violent and powerful, he’ll definitely take it out on you in the bedroom, pounding into you ruthlessly and breath shaking as a bead of sweat forms on his forehead, the only thing able to clear his mind is being deep inside of you.

started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n : idk how I feel ab this one it’s kinda low tier effort but wanted to get smth out today🙏 make sure to leave notes, reblogs and comment!!

©️nolovelingers 2023

[starboye]

starring: ghostface!drew starkey x male reader

request: ghostface/drew starkey x bubble butt fem boy twink: he calls you and he does the iconic ghostface quote but he notices you’re wearing some really tight boxers and knee high socks so he breaks in you do the chase thing, you tried crawling through the doggy door but you get stuck and he rips open your boxes and eats your ass and then fucks you like a slut, then he helps you get out and fucks you all around your house( you wake up to note saying he’ll be back and stuff like that

warnings: smut, cursing, mention of blood, knife, ass eating, dub-con to consensual, breeding kink, stomach bulge, daddy kink, slight degradation, yandere action from drew, threats, stalking

it was supposed to be a normal night, with you finally all alone in your house in some nice underwear and cute socks chilling the night away with movies and snacks, that was until you got a call from some unknown number and picked up the phone "hello" you cheerily answered but the only thing you could hear from the other side was heavy breaths.

you hung up the phone after the person didn't answer and was about to go back too enjoying your movie till you got another call from the same number, this time answering it with a little more aggression "look here i don't know if this is some sick prank but stop calling" you angrily say before hanging up, but the number calls back again.

you were going to ignore it but the rings were driving you insane so you picked up the phone and just when you were about to scream at the person they spoke "what's your favorite horror movie" the man asks in a friendly but eery tone "what" you asked confused by his random question.

"what is your favorite horror film" he asks again, this time in a more flirtatious tone "and why do you wanna know" you inquire now slightly twirling the cord of the telephone around your finger "i dunno just curious i guess" he says and you fail to notice him outside your kitchen window, lightly running his blade over the glass.

"well i guess mine is scream" you chuckle "wow really that's so cliche" the man says and you could hear the smirk on his face "hey don't judge me" you say "i won't i just didn't expect that from someone as flattering as yourself y/n" he laughs making you freeze in your place "h-how do you know my name" you nervously ask looking around your house frantically.

"oh i know everything about you y/n l/n, from where you work, what you do, and even where you live" he eerily says before hanging up the call and banging on your door feircely "come on y/n let me innn" the man yells in a creepy sing songy voice making you panic even more, and fear sets in as he finally breaks the door down.

it creaking open to a man in a ghostface mask with a knife in hand "come to daddy" the man taunts starting a chase around the house, you trying to dodge him by jumping around through the kitchen and living room, smashing a vase across his face in hopes of slowing him down till you saw an exit, the doggy door.

you hurriedly rush towards the doggy door and slide through at first but you lower half gets stuck behind the door as the man recovers and sees you, all stuck with no way out from his coming attack "well what happend here" he teases running the cold metal across the thigh of your leg making you shiver with fear "don't worry prince i'm not gonna hurt you i'm gonna make you feel so good" the man smiles.

"who the fuck are you" you ask "ghostface but you can call me drew" he says taking off the mask to reveal his very attractive face "well mr.drew could you help me i'm really stuck" you say swaying your ass back and forth to lure him in, his hands planting on your ass and you could feel his breath graze your covered ass and just then you kicked his face with your leg.

"son of a bitch" he curses loudly wincing at the pain now in his lip,you try to wiggle out and you almost manage it but drew roughly pulls you back getting you stuck again in the small door way "and just when i was thinking of maybe letting you go too" he says ripping your underwear off leaving your ass out for him and he wastes no time and dives into your ass, licking and lapping at your hole.

his hands kneading your ass like dough and his teeth nipping at the skin of your smooth ass, you whimper out as you struggle to stay focused on how to get out of this situation "shit you taste so fucking good" drew huffs lifting from his assault on your ass before pulling you back into the house making you yelp out, he turns you over on your back and forces you to look at him.

"listen here, i'm gonna fuck you now and if you try to run ima tie you up instead m'kay" he asks, the knife blade at your neck drawing some blood "yes sir" you say scared shitless at this point, he picks you up and sets you on the table, letting his hard on fall out and slap your hole, you whimper at just the feel and sight of the scary man spitting into his hand to lube you both up.

he slides in with some resistance from you but once his hips begin thrusting into you, you become a moaning mess on his cock as the thrust of him jolt your backward on the table but he holds you close by gripping your hips, seeing you very uncomfortable on the table he moves you to the living room floor.

laying you down and resuming his assault on your tight hole, covering your mouth as to not alert the neighbors of this "fuckkk you feel so good, don't i fell so big in you baby" drew asks looking at you with lust fueled eyes, his hips snapping into your ass making it nearly impossible to answer the question with anything other than incoherent babbles.

"look at you already making a mess on daddys cock" drew smirks cockily seeing your messy hole create a cream ring around the base of his dick before you cum with a loud moan, your nails digging into his back leaving scratches through his clothes "such a good botch for me" drew mutters lifting you up onto the couch and fucking you on his cock as the tv plays none other than scream.

"look at that it's your favorite movie right" drew asks directing your clouded attention to the tv which you could barely understand from the dick that was currently stuffing you full "don't blink or you could miss the best part" drew says with a grin as your head rocked back and forth not even paying attention "you just want daddy to fill you up huh, full of all my cum right" he says nuzzling into your neck.

"fuc- yesss daddy i want your cum so... so bad please breed me" you breathlessly huff running your fingers through his hair and gripping them, creating a sting in the mans scalp but he liked it "yeah gonna have you walking around here dripping with all my jizz" drew groans as he feels his climax brewing in him.

"please please mr ghostface i want it so bad" you moan out gripping his hair tighter till he came in you, painting your walls white and spreading your walls even further till you got a little bulge in your stomach from the inflation of his thick cum, him groaning deeply in your ear as he fucks you on his dick, you could feel his cum swirl around in you.

but after that you remember dropping onto the couch unconscious, drew having had left in this ruined state, when you woke up the next morning you thought it was all a dream, till you felt the aching pain in your ass and felt the cum dripping out of you and found a note on the table next to the ghostface mask he wore "i'll be back tonight, leave the back door unlocked and wear something slutty for me" it said.

you knew it wasn't the best idea to fuck someone like him but with the way he had you dumb cock drunk in seconds last night you couldn't resist and went out and bought some nice lingerie for them man and waited ass up for the secret man to arrive, hearing the back door open and shut was all you needed to hear for the heat in you to start rising again.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune

©starboye productions

[reareaotaku]

Prank Call

Summary: You keep getting Calls from what you can only assume is a prankster Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Fem! Reader Tw: Pank calls, Horror

"And now, bend over like this. Stretch out those muscles-"

There's a loud ringing noise, causing you to groan. "Steve, can you get the phone!"

You hear a whine, but ultimately the ringing stops.

"Hello?"

There's some chatter, but you weren't listening. You pulled up your leg towards your chest, as the video instructed.

"Y/n?"

You turn towards your brother, who was holding out the phone towards you. "What?"

"It's for you. If you knew your boyfriend was calling, why would you have me answer the phone?"

"Boyfriend?" You grab the phone from your braindead brother, "Hello?"

"Hello."

You didn't recognize the voice. It was deep and scratchy with a pitch of tone. "Do I know you?"

"You don't know your boyfriend's voice?" There's a chuckle and you can practically hear the smirk. "What's your favorite horror movie?"

You look towards the tv, where the yoga instructor was now in the doggy position, ass up high and sharp edged.

"I don't know. I don't watch much horror."

"Oh, come on, N/n, everyone has a favorite horror movie."

You roll your eyes, sighing deeply, "Hellraiser... I guess?"

"You don't seem like a Hellraiser kind of girl."

"That's the one with the Pinhead guy, right?"

"Yes-"

"Pretty freaky. If that's all, I have to go."

Before the caller could respond, you hung up the phone. It started to ring again, but you went back to your yoga video.

-----

You slam your locker, your brother leaning on the locker next to you, Casey wrapped around his arm.

"And we're planning to go to her house-"

You ignored him, feeling eyes on you. You looked around before spotting the one looking at you, Billy. Billy was a strange guy- Not in a good way. He was your number one suspect of the guy who called...

Though, you doubted he really knew anything about you, so you doubted he'd go out of his way to mess with you.

----

You hum to yourself as you do the dishes. You were alone at home, thankfully. You liked being home alone, because there was no messes made by your disgusting brother and it was quiet.

Ring. Ring.

Scratch that. You groan as you pick up the phone and get annoyed.

"Hello?"

"Y/n, how are you this fine evening?"

You groaned when hearing the familiar voice. "Oh, fuck off you punk and leave me alone."

"Oh, that's no way for a lady to talk."

"Fuck you-"

"If you hang up that phone, I'll kill your brother!"

You stop when hearing muffled screaming. "What do you want?"

"Oh, now you want to play nice? Hmmm... I want to play a game."

[mercedista]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓⠀⠀⠀→⠀⠀⠀𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut.

𝐀/𝐍: Part two.

Paradise. That's where he was, watching you tremble beneath him, crawling across the carpet in escape-no, in denial that you wouldn't be able to flee. His heart was pounding just as much as yours, that he could swear. Except his was beating out of pure excitement, while yours, certainly, was not for anything positive.

"Oh, princess..." He chuckled, watching your back finally press against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go. He crouched down, the tip of the knife tickling your cheek. He didn't plan to hurt you-not yet-but the threat still loomed.

It hadn't even been five minutes since he broke into your room, and you were already making him hard. He licked his lips, almost savoring your panic, and it was definitely a delight. Yes, he loved the pleasure of killing people, but seeing his little girlfriend scared? That was something else.

Unconsciously, lost in thought, he was caressing your lips with his thumb. You recoiled, almost feeling disgusted by his touch, which might have offended him a bit since that snapped him out of his daydream. It was a little habit he had with you, except from your perspective, it was a killer in front of you, not your lover, so your reaction was more than understandable.

The knife still against your skin, but with no pressure. "Kill me... what's wrong with you? Stop playing with me and just do what you came here to do already," you said.

He tilted his head to the side, an expression of disappointment hidden beneath the mask. He thought it was obvious he wasn't going to kill you. "Stop touching me!" you snarled. "I have a damn boyfriend."

Naïve of you to think that saying that would stop a killer. Though he did find your loyalty adorable, even in a situation like that.

You thought you were successfully distracting him long enough to call your boyfriend, since hiding your phone behind your back was easy with his contact on speed dial.

"Nuh uh," he said. "Not that, princess." He snatched the phone from your hands. Ghostface froze, the shock you displayed gave him an extra dose of dopamine. His eyes shifted from your hypnotizing look of horror to the screen. Not that he needed to read the contact to know who you were trying to call.

His own phone vibrating in his pocket made everything clear. He had a hard time holding back laughter when he realized he was receiving the call.

"He's not going to answer you, sweet thing." His voice came out taunting even with the voice modulator.

Your hand reached for his mask. If you were strong enough-which you certainly weren't-you could have easily torn it off. Noticing your fingers gripping the black fabric, Ghostface grabbed your wrist.

"He's stronger than you." Your voice came out in a near-tense whisper. "My boyfriend. Even if you kill me. He'll find you. He's smart and strong."

"Oh, is he going to kill me, princess?" Ghostface released your wrist and used his hand to squeeze your face, your lips forming a pout, and it took everything in you not to rip off his mask and kiss him. However, that feeling quickly faded when you kicked him between the legs.

Ghostface screamed in pain, his voice modifier barely able to mask his tone with how loud it was. It was your chance to escape, if it weren't for his free hand—the other one was comforting himself where he'd been hit—grabbing your ankle and causing you to fall hard. "You...!"

You struggled, but he easily pinned you to the ground, stomach down. For God's sake, he almost lost his mind; lucky for you, he wasn’t in the mood to stay single that night.

Even though it wasn't in his pre-defined plans—or even in his current ones—to kill you, he wasn’t going to let it slide. Yes, you were his girlfriend. Yes, you were terrified, and it was justifiable. And yes, he loved you. But every action has its consequence.

His gloved hand left his crotch and tangled in your hair, his fingers gripping tightly to stop any further rebellion from you. Not that there was much chance of that, given that his heavy body was pressing you firmly against the ground; now, there was no way out.

"Damn it, I was going to play nice, but you just had to pull something like that." The killer gave your hair a sharp tug, and then a small yelp escaped your lips as you received a smack on the butt. And hell, you didn’t know whether it was his strength or the leather glove, but one of them—or maybe both—made that cursed slap hurt.

You didn’t even know where his knife had gone with how fast things were happening, but from your point of view, it wouldn’t be long before he drove it into your stomach.

You felt his weight lift off your body, but there wasn’t much time to think about it, as Ghostface was already dragging you by the hair to the bed, where he sat down. He forced you to kneel, still holding onto your hair. For a moment, his fingers relaxed imperceptibly as you gazed at the empty black eyes of that mask with your adorable, tear-streaked face staring back at him.

[namjooningera]

Ghost face Toji! and his little helper

Characters: Toji, y/n, victims

A/n: hehe. So I read some ghost face JJK ffs and I was just thinking that instead of y/n being the victim what if she helped ghost face instead? 😋 his lil helper. Also first time writing smut so :p

TW: ghost face, death of background characters (by stabbing), lowkey gore, reader is lowkey sociopathic/very much delusional, smutttt, cowgirl, size difference

“Nghhh! Toji! A-ah!” You whined, being bounced on his massive member, trying to claw at anything that would give you some comfort.

“Y-you can take it, yeah? And it’s ghost face, doll.” He gripped your hips and laid below you, as you bounced mercilessly on his cock.

Bodies laid on the floor near you two, blood seeping from them and staining the concrete floors. Beer bottles broken and medr over party supplies littering the floors.

You bounced on his cock around the dead bodies, the knife from your little hand dropping to the floor as you pressed your hands against his chest for leverage.

“Atta girl, that’s it.” He chuckled beneath you, breathlessly, his bloody mask halfway off while he fucked up into you.

You stand at the streets of Shibuya, behind chains led by security, watching as celebrities walk past on the red carpet.

You try to squeeze past, to see your favorite movie actors, singers, models, pass you by on the red carpet. Looking as dazzling as ever. You’d like to be them. You need to be them.

It’s been your only wish since you were a kid. You rush over around the squads of people and paparazzi, trying desperately to get the attention of the famous people.

You watch as their heels click on the red carpet, brushing past like the watchers were nothing but dust. No care in the world but their own fame, and you desperately crave that kind of life.

The cameras, the lights, the people. It’s all you wanted.

Ever since you were a little kid, orphaned young and too early. You’d sneak down in the basement of the orphanage where you lived, where a small tv was, and you’d sit in front of it criss-crossed. You’d watch the actors, musicians, models and famous people on the tv, when they’d walk the red carpet, appear in the gala, make their name and grow fanbases. The way the cameras zoomed on them, and the lights framed their faces. The paparazzi that chased them with cameras, flashing lights and the way the celebrities would pose.

You tried everything to be like them.

Signed model contracts, auditioned for background acting roles, you sang and danced, even uploaded videos on social media.

And nothing.

You didn’t get famous, you didn’t have cameras in your face, and you didn’t end up on tv or the news. Well, except once.

You ended up on the news. Once.

You remember it like it was yesterday. The way the other kids and adults taunted you. Telling you you’d never be famous. At first, they gave you the benefit of the doubt. A cute kid auditioning? You might as well get the part at some point. A commercial or some small acting role, something. But you didn’t. And they laughed. Told you to give up and your little dream would never happen. You knew it wasn’t your fault you didn’t get the role, the people you bypassed you were those with connections and nepo-babies. You didn’t stand a chance.

But their taunting never stopped, they probably would’ve if you gave up on your little dream, but you didn’t. You continued plastering celeb posters on your walls, drawing stick figures of you on the red carpet, and singing in the halls of the orphanage. All because you thought, no, you knew you’d be famous at some point.

So they ripped up your posters, your drawings, and would hit you every time they heard you sing or saw you dance. They all thought you were pathetic, and the adults who ran the orphanage started to as well.

At first they didn’t mind signing up some cute kid for these random positions, auditions. Maybe your fame would bring more money to the orphanage? But the more you asked and failed, the more you tried, they got pissed off.

At one point getting physical with you, after calling you a delusional freak they started to smack you around just like the kids. Telling you to give up, and just try to get adopted like any other kid.

But when the adults came in to adopt, they’d meet with the kids to see if they were allegeable.

They thought nothing could go wrong with a cute kid like you, but when they met with you, they lost patience with you, hearing you go on and on about how famous you were gonna be. Showing them photos of your favorite celebs and explaining that you’d make it farther than them. You were only a kid.

“Umm maybe something more realistic? How about a doctor sweetie? Or maybe a teacher?”

You looked at them weird. “Doctor? Teacher? I’m gonna be famous! Actor! Singer!” You sang. And their smiles dropped.

But soon adults stopped asking for you and you became shadowed. Didn’t matter how many cute faces you made or how mature you acted, they’d never choose you.

You watched as kids got picked by happy families, and you grew older as you were left behind. But this just made your dream grow. You know all the best celebs come from darker backgrounds, so you’d probably end up the most famous, right?

But the taunting never stopped. And as years went by it just got worse. It became the worse when you finally got your hands on a signed celebrity poster. A signed one. Your favorite celebrity. You had snuck out of the orphanage to get it signed, and the woman was so nice to you.

She told you she believed in you. And that was the first time you’d ever heard that.

But when you came back with it, shining, your face glowing and a smile wide and happy. They took your poster and ripped it to shreds.

Ripped your signed poster to shreds.

Told you, you were an idiot, and your favorite celebrity was an idiot, and you’d come to nothing.

And how you ended up on the news for the first time? You set the orphanage to blaze. Set it on fire. Years of taunting and torture, you’d burn it all to the floor. And rise above everyone.

You remember the news truck running to you, one of the only kids left standing. Pointing the mics in your face and camera straight at you, the news lady asking you to give a statement, to tell them what happened, how you feel.

Everyone was looking at you.

Everyone was awestruck.

Your remember that feeling like it was yesterday. And you remember the excellent way you played victim in front of the cameras.

All those auditions, those practices when you’d act by script in your little orphanage room, or you’d watch tapes in the basement on how to improve your acting. They all helped that day, that day where you shined on camera, acted your heart out and made everyone’s eyes tear up in how emotional you were. How you explained that a fire started and took out so many of your friends. That you were just some lonesome orphan, a victim.

That same week you got adopted. Well, basically. You were taken in as a foster child. Turns out one of the firefighters at the orphanage that day heard your little ramble, and their heart was quenched. Took you home to their little family and supported you. That’s when you realized how much you could change everything around you with something as simple as acting.

So you acted normal.

And continued playing house.

Now your an adult, void of any job or networking, really. You had a high school diploma, but it didn’t really mean anything in the kind of jobs you wanted.

You lived in the attic of some dweeb you’ve barely seen, rooming with some girl who’s barely around. All you know is that she’s extremely nerdy, and always at some Internet cafe or in her room coding.

You also, couldn’t care less. As long as you got that lone time to plan out your next move, your next plan on how to become famous, your golden.

But you’re starting to lose hope. Even your roommate who you barely see told you to get a real job, that your government funding for being a former foster kid won’t do you much, long term.

Alas, you continue. After having your fun following the celebs and running after the limos they drove off in, you skip your way home. However, passing by a sketchy alleyway, your pulled in.

“Why shouldn’t I kill your right now?”

A deep very gruffy voice asks you.

“You seem like quite a fan. A first kill being a fan might draw some attention hm?”

You look up at him. “Excuse me?”

A mask covers his face, he’s wearing a cloak that covers his head and hair. But did that muscly hand around your neck, and the other holding you around your torso. You could scream.. for other reasons then just murder.

“So… which one is she?”

It turns out, Ghostface, he calls himself, is quite the noob in celebs and fame, news and all that. But you, are an expert.

It also turns out he’s a hired killer, someone made to kill certain celebrities, someone to… send a message. But being someone so closed off he doesn’t know anything about them, and doesn’t feel like doing his research.

“She’s right there. The one in the grey sweatpants and faking her reps?”

He was puzzled when you told him about your expertise in celeb gossip and knowledge. The way you knew exactly where a celebrity would be at the moment.

“First kill.”

Now, you crouch at the window of some elite gym. Ghost face is extremely lucky of you, you’ve done this before. Stalked them, so you know where the cameras are and where the blind spots are, too.

“Wait here, pretty.” He tells you, and his deep dark voice makes you tingle a bit.

You stay crouching at the window, peeking through as you watch this masked man follow the celebrity into the showers. You hear a cut off scream, as if he had muffled her mouth right away. And then he steps back out with blood covering his cloak.

He jumps right out the window, but instead of greeting you like regular he shoved you against the wall, and puts a cloth over your mouth.

“Sorry, lil’ stalker. Can’t have a witness around. But I’ll keep ya alive, for yer’ help.”

And you pass out.

The next morning you awake in some random motel. You can’t help but think last night was some unfortunate weird dream. But by the drops of blood that aren’t yours that stain your shirt, the headache you have from inhaling those toxins, and the man at the counter that tells you your “boyfriend” had carried you in here. You know it’s real.

Now, you’re at another gala. This time, you made your way in. You pulled some strings, and you were able to make it in as a server, helpers to the caterers.

You still think about what that masked man said, about how he was planted to kill certain celebrities, and make a splash in modern media. Some kind of show he wanted to put on. And honestly he was quite good. His first kill, which you helped with, has scorn the news and surprised journalists and the paparazzi. Everyone was confused and concerned. The first kill being in such a private place it made fans worry of their own favorite celebrities. The police searched for clues and evidence, but due to your help in blind spots of cameras and ways to scoot past security, ghost face was never caught. People all over the internet mourn the celebrity’s death, but don’t expect there to be another kill. However you know the truth. The man’s words. How she wasn’t gonna be the last. His message to media.

But you try to forget, and instead focus on making connections. You know the people here are in the big leagues, and if your able to convince them, maybe you’ll be given a chance.

That’s when you overhear some celebs talking. The extremely famous ones. The ones you’ve seen on billboards and trucks, movie posters and more. Your curious, especially when you hear them talking about an extra exclusive party in the gala, one in a private room.

You need to sneak in. And you do. You find out more about it and realize that only the highest of the servers go to cater that small private event, servers who wear a certain outfit to show they that only serve the best. That’s how you’re gonna get in. So you do the unthinkable. Well, it’s not like there was extra uniforms ying around?

So you find one of these special caterers, and break a bottle over their head. You drag their unconscious but live body into a closet, stealing their collared shirt and tie, and that special brooch that shows your elite. You lock the closet and make your way to the private exclusive room.

This is your chance. Your chance to become elite like them, to get on the news again, to be famous.

But as you open the door to the elite room, you hear screams. ‘Please let elite room for celebrities not mean secret celebrity orgies please.’ You think. But as you peek into the door, you realize it’s so much different than that.

When blood seeps through the carpet and spills, as you hear screams and see a certain familiar masked man slash one of the elite celebrities necks, they fall to the floor as they convulse, holding their neck but the bleeding continues.

They all fall to the floor one by one, and you’re stunned. Before you could leave, leave and pretend this never happened, the door is swung open by one of the celebrities, one who is apparently trying to get away, and immediately they are slashed. The blood splatters onto you, and you hold your hands up trying to stop the blood from continuing its spray onto you.

“Well look who it is.” That familiar husky voice says, holding up the head of the victim he just slashed. The blood oozes from his slashed neck, his eyes bulging out his head, eyes rolled back and almost in its skull.

The masked man drops the victim onto the floor.

“I told you I didn’t want any witnesses.” He grabs you by the throat, pulling you into the elite room before slamming your head to the wall, pinning you there with his huge hand.

“W-wait! Wait don’t do this!” You beg. Your eyes scan the room and you see all the elites littered on the floor. Something in you pulses. Something you hope is fear or empathy, but it’s something different. Almost.. satisfaction. The people who’ve ignored you like the dirt on their shoes, people who you sweared to surpass. Dead, bloody, bodies on the floor like they were simple trash.

You accidentally let out a giggle.

“What was that?”

“Umm nothing, s-sorry.” You stumble, his hands increasing its hold on your neck. “W-wait! You- your doing this as some message to the public right?”

He stops, his hand still tightly around your neck, but he softens almost. “Yeah? So?”

“W-well I want.. I want fame. I can help! Like last time! If you let me live…”

You can’t tell what his expression is, hidden under the mask, but you can tell he’s confused, and a little amused.

“And what can you help with, little dove?”

“W-well I know all their info! Every celeb, really! I can nurse you.. I umm.”

“Nurse me? Info? I don’t need that, naive doll.”

“Wait!” You whine, fighting back. “I’ll spread your word. When they see me.. as the only one standing… the news will be everywhere. Asking questions.. and I’ll answer!” He stays quiet, and you know he’s considering it. “If you kill me- nobody will know it was you… but if I live, I can tell your story! How you killed all those celebrities in cold blood… The cold blooded killer Ghostface… I’ll relay whatever message you need me to say.”

His hand softens around your neck, but he still keeps a hold of you. The tip of his knife makes its way up your torso to your neck, right under his hand, where he pokes your skin.

“And what would you get out of that, little dove?”

“Fame. And my life… but fame. I’ll.. I’ll be on the news.” You sigh, almost of happiness at just the thought. “People will be looking to me.. the last standing victim.” ‘-like last time’ you wanna say.

He huffs. “As a victim, you don’t look very disheveled, do you?”

You look at him weirdly, confused, until he throws you down at the only spotless part of the carpet. You gasp, feeling your back thud against it, about to fight until he lands on top of you, pulling and tugging at your shirt.

“Yer’ sure cute. But look way t’satisfied with yourself to be a victim.”

“L-let me be your victim.” You sigh out, shakily. Hearing that, his hands rip your shirt off, and your arms go up to cover your lacy bra, whining at the intrusion.

He’s growling, obviously extremely satisfied with your little statement, and he’s shoving and tugging your pants down. “You’ll be way to disheveled after this- they’ll know you became my lil’ victim.”

“P-please.” You whine. You don’t know why, but his big muscly fucking body, that hand that had clasped around your neck had made you drip with excitement. He was just so big and so much taller, his biceps and muscles just busting through his cloak- god did it turn you on. He was like a monster. And you knew what was hiding in his pants was no less then terrifying.

He tugs down your lacy bra, bunching up your boobs as it bunches under your chest. He chuckles and tugs at your right nipple, smirking at your little whines and gasps as he continues to tug and twist. It leans down to swirl his tongue around your left nipple, giving it some attention, sucking softly and nibbling down a bit. If he’s this good with your nipples, you wonder how good he’d be with his mouth in other areas. However your getting restless, the biting and nibbling on your nipples becoming too much, as you slightly push him away so you can try and get a sense of what his figure looks like.

You start to claw at his cloak, which makes him chuckle, and he unclasps it to show off his tight shirt tucked into sweatpants. You force him to shrug down the cloak, staying around his elbows, as he pushes down his own pants.

You’re so excited. You’re basically day dreaming as he rubs you through your pink little panties. You just know that there will be thousands of news reporters and journalists wanting to interview you. Know your story, what happened. Then they’ll be the fans of the celebs who’ll look over to you for answers, who’ll go crazy at their favorites being murdered. But you’re there. There to anwser their questions and give false empathy, and hopefully, woo those fans as your own.

You’ll be famous over night.

“Come on doll, focus on me.”

You hadn’t even realized he had shoved your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and smooth tight circles. You whine out, back arching just a bit, you also noticed he had taken off his bloody glove, to touch you with his clean one.

His other hand, smears blood onto the side of your face with his bloody glove. He chuckles at how you grimace, the slimy substance dampening your cheek.

He rips that bloody glove off to rub at your nipples again, while his other hand rubs faster on your little clit, he chuckles watching you start to writhe more and try to push him off.

“Ah. Just wet enough, little dove.” His finger makes its way to your entrance, poking at it, gathering some of your essence before entering you. You whine at the intrusion. His fingers, are fucking big. And just one filled you up nicely. Grithy and tall, poking at your sides and your gummy walls.

“Cmon doll, open up.” He chuckles, starting to twist his finger. You whine and start to kick your legs, your head going to the side to try to avoid his burning stare, which you could feel through his mask.

Your eyes look at the bodies, the dead ones that litter the floors at your left. You look at one, recognizing his face. You remember when you had asked him for a photograph together last year. And you guessed perhaps you had pushed him too much, because he spat at your face and shoved you out the way. You grimace at the memory, but then smile at his dead body. He’s dead. And you’re getting finger fucked close to his corpse.

You cry out as the masked man adds a second finger and scissors it inside you, making room. You can’t help but wince at the thought that he’s making so much room inside you for a reason.

As he scissors you, he accidentally bumps into a spot inside you that makes you convulse.

“Ah? Right here? Little victim?” He stabs at the spot with his thick fingers, a bruising pace starts and you see stars.

“Don’t come. Or I’ll make you suck my cock, then you’ll have to explain to the cameras why there’s cum all over your face.” He chuckles darkly, almost amused at the idea.

“A-ah! P-puh-please!” You whine out, especially when his thumb dips into your wetness and starts to coat your clit, rubbing it softly.

“P-please..!”

You dont know his name. But you want to, you desperately want to, do you can scream his name.

“Toji, doll.”

“Toji!” You cry out, so close, almost there, your body quivering and pussy shaking. He wraps his hand around your throat, constricting your airways, chuckling as you claw at his hand that chokes your throat.

Tears start to leave your eyes at just how good he was making you feel, and at the terrifying feeling of not being able to breathe.

“Atta girl. Nobodies gonna believe you without some tears.”

He finally takes his fingers out of you, slick covering them and a string of your essence connecting his fingers to your entrance.

“So wet for someone who was jus’ begging for their life.” He laughs, but your too busy to focus on breathing then his words when he finally takes his hand of your throat.

He pulls down his pants, and god do you gasp. His cock- no, a monster. Flings out of its confines and dribbles with precum.

“Hah.. I guess you got me a lil’ excited too, doll.”

He pushes the tip to your entrance, you can see the veins circle his cock, the angry tip gushing and the slight way it curves.

“W-wait! It’s not gonna- it’s not gonna fit!” You cry out, almost begging him not to ruin you.

“Shut it. I opened you up enough.” He rubs at your clit with his tip, making you kick at him some more. Which results in him grabbing your leg and pulling you towards him. “Nuh uh uh, no running away little dove.”

He nudged his tip in, sighing in the feeling of your pussy already trapping his cock into your tiny entrance. He slides in some more, you can feel every dip and vein and curve of his cock. You whine and claw at his big chest and biceps.

“T-Toji..” Your pussy is crushing his cock, enveloping it and sucking him in, as if you were milking his cock.

He grumbles and turns the both of you over, lying down as he slams you down on his cock, you straddling his hips. You scream out at the sudden full intrusion, and he chuckles, eyes rolling back.

“Come on doll. I’m exhausted. Be a good girl and break yourself on my cock, yeah?”

You whine out, but agree, moving your small hands to his chest, where you slowly lift yourself up and slide yourself back down on his cock. You both gasp, and you do it again. This time you try to add some rhythm, moaning out as you bounce on his cock.

The harder you bounce, the more his mask starts to slip, and that just adds to your excitement. The more you see it slip, the harder you start to go, crying and writhing as you jump on his cock but you just can’t seem to stop.

Your wet gushing insides pull him in, and he’s in a fucking trance. Watching you bounce up and down, looking for some sort of stability or comfort. He laughs, pushing the bottom of your thighs up before shoving into you some more, bouncing you up and down while also fucking up into you.

“That’s it… that’s it.. the cutest lil’ victim f’me…” He babbled, basically pussy drunk.

None of you want this to stop. However, you both feel that chilly feeling of your insides twisting and convulsing, knowing the both of you aren’t gonna last.

“Cmon doll. Come with me.” He holds your hip and your thigh as he fucks up into you. “You’ll be a good girl and come for me, yeah?” He’s basically babbling now, drool leaving his lips, and you can see that by his mask almost completely tips over.

You whine, clawing at his mask. “P-please.”

He chuckles, moving your hands away from his face.

“Fine, since ya asked so- fuck- nicely. And guess we’re teammates now, h-huh?” He stumbles on his words as he feels you milk his cock.

One hand goes down to your pussy, swiftly pressing down on your clit and rubbing fast, as his other hand shoved his mask off.

You gasp as you see his face. Dark lustful eyes, his lips adorn by a scar, his cheekbones and entire face harmony. The way you know with one look you’d pass away, he could kill you with that dark and sinister, evil look in his eyes. And you come at the sight.

Your body convulsed and you cried out, back arching as he tugged and pinched your clit meanly, following you soon after, pulling out and spilling onto his stomach and yours.

He gasps for air and so do you, you whimper as you fall forward onto his body, shivering and still slightly convulsing. You can feel his heart beat, the way it pounds against his chest and the way he heaves for a breath, a groan leaves his lips.

His hand brushed your hair and pulls you up. “Come on little dove. You’ve got a show to put on.”

He pulls you up, but lays you back down. Your still gasping for air, your eyes barely open and your body trembling. You feel your clothes being put on, even the ripped shirt. He cleans off his cum with what you assume is his cloak.

You open your eyes finally, to see him putting his mask back on, which makes you whine.

He laughs. “Don’t worry doll, you’ll see a lot more of me soon.” He carreses your hair, almost whisking you to slumber, your only half aware that there’s bodies littered around you.

He disappears, or rather, you’re too tired to notice he left.

When you open your eyes however, it’s because of unfamiliar people in your face, you’re still trembling, blood on your cheek that isn’t yours and lights in your face.

You’re on a gurney, being rolled away into an ambulance. Your eyes are a bit blurry but you see almost hundreds of people- and then there are the news reporters everywhere. They surround your gurney, the doctors weilding your not actually wounded body into the ambulance.

“Ma’am? Ma’am! Over here!” A man yells, pushing his camera in your face and lay the doctors, taking photos with flash on.

“Ma’am! What can you tell us about what happened? Ma’am?”

“Ghost… ghost face..” you breathe out, making all the reporters and journalists shiver with fright and widen their eyes.

“Ma’am? Ghost face? Tell us more about this cold blooded killer!”

There’s so many cameras in your faces, people talking, the cameras going off and flashing lights in your face.

“Ma’am! Over here!” A man snaps photos, a woman asks you questions, all the reporters and journalists following you and chasing you in the gurney until your put in the ambulance and the workers shut the truck doors.

The ambulance drives away, the siren rings and your ears and the workers ask if you can hear them, if you can answer some questions.

All you can think about was the lights. The people. The fame. How they all chased you down, like paparazzi.

“Am I.. famous?” You ask, a gasp leaving your lips.

“Well ma’am, you’re all over the news.” The doctor replied.

And you smile.

….

Thinking of doing a second part. But idk.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Billy Loomis Would Include:

It's pretty intense. Very obsessive. He'll be your partner in crime, he'll be jealous of anyone who gets too close to you, he'll be overprotective, he'll be clingy and if you ever made him jealous to the point of no return he'd snap. There's more to it but that's the basics.

He'll be extremely possessive- to the point he'll isolate you from others. He would give you all of his time and attention, leaving no room for anything or anyone else. He would love-bomb you. Which he uses to make you feel guilty if you ever think about leaving or cheating on him.

He will try his absolute best not to let you go. He would do anything you say, or give or do anything to keep you with him. Even if that means lying or killing for you. He'd also be extremely overprotective and clingy, he would probably always want to know where you are or be near you at all times. He'd get you everything, even though you didn't need it.

And like I previously said, he will do, or say anything to keep you- not wanting to admit that he fears that you might leave. He'll do what it takes to make you fall in love with him or just to make you stay by his side, no matter what.

He'd try to spend as much time as he could with you, wanting to know everything about you and just wanting you by his side. He'll try to understand what you like and dislike, and he'll want to spend every last second of time with you. He'll probably just want you to only be with him, probably wanting nothing or anyone else but you.

He would want to be the one in charge of every situation, wanting you to obey and listen to him at all times. He'd make sure you love him and you'd be all alone with him, not letting anyone else try to steal you from him.

If you ask for reassurance he'd give you every last ounce of reassurance he can. Wanting you to know that he wouldn't, would never, and can't love anyone else but you. He'd give you love and reassurance as much as you would want, all day and every day; constantly wanting you to know he'd never love anyone else but you, wanting you to stay by his side and not leave him.

He will probably reward you with gifts, he doesn't care about how big or small it is, he just wants to reward you. He'll shower you with lots of gifts; to try and make you fall or stay in love with him, constantly reminding you that you two are inseparable. He'd give you everything, including clothes, snacks and more. You name it, he'll give it.

He'd probably try and punish you in different ways. Like guilt trip you, or make you feel bad. He'd be pissed off if you did something he didn't like, even if it's as simple as talking to someone other than him. So in his mind, he would probably punish you by yelling at you, or making you feel guilty; guilt being his way to get you to do things his way and stay as his.

He'd keep trying to guilt you into letting him win, and if that didn't work, he'd probably raise his voice at you, trying to get some sort of confirmation from you. Probably yelling and making you feel guilty for not letting him win or agreeing with his opinion. Then, if that doesn't work, he might slam things, yell more, and get even madder because you aren't listening to or agreeing with him and doing things his way.

He'd shower you with lots of affection, showing affection all the time. Affection could be in the form of compliments, hugs, kisses, and many other things. And if you asked him to be more affectionate he'd be even more loving with you, to the point it's too much- but he'd be just fine with that. He'd give you affection when you want it and doesn't care if it's in private or if others are nearby, he'll just shower you with lots of love and affection.

He loves dates and loves spending all of his time with you. He loves the time he gets to spend with you, doing the things you like or he likes; as long as you are there with him. He can be clingy and would probably never agree to bring anyone else with you on dates, he just wants it to be you and him, because he loves spending time with only you.

If he loves you, he will do anything for you, anything and everything is in the realms of what he'd do, as in, killing for you, hiding a body, doing your homework. Anything that he can do to get you to like him and stay near him, he'll do it. He would do anything to get you to love him and stay with him forever, and he would get rid of anyone or anything in his way to get what he wants, and what he wants is you.

He'd be shocked, probably even in denial, and not listen to you if you wanted to leave him. He would try to guilt trip you, telling you that you were the greatest and everything else, trying anything or everything to have you rethink the decision you've made. He'd probably try to use all the love-bombing he could to get you to stay because he couldn't and could never imagine you leaving, as he didn't think it was even possible.

He doesn't ever tell you that he's Ghostface- because he wouldn't want you to run away or avoid him or call the police. He'd want to keep you with him, so he wouldn't tell you. Because he knows that you'll run or try to call the cops, so he wouldn't tell you at all. No matter what, because he'd see it as putting him at risk or you finding out and leaving him.

He'd love the thought of marriage with you, wanting to have a happy end with you and be married, forever with you. He will do absolutely anything to keep you with him, marriage would be one of his goals, wanting to start a family and be with you. Forever and always with you. He would even be glad to just date you, but marriage would be what he wants.

A happy future with you and having kids, he would adore the thought of having kids with you and starting a family. He'd love that, and would probably think about it all the time. He definitely wants kids, he would be excited and so happy to have a family with you, spending time with you and your children.

He'd be disappointed, extremely disappointed, and upset. But he'll make sure you know that. He'd probably guilt trip you, say things like “I just wanted a family with you. Not even children? No children with me, your husband?! I always loved the thought of starting a family with you. Why do you not want kids? Do you really love me?” and make you feel guilty, until you give in.

"I cherish every moment with you, every word you say, every touch, and every smile. I want to spend an eternity by your side, never leaving your side, never leaving you. You are the center of my universe, the source of my happiness, and my sole purpose. I would be lost without you. I love you so intensely, it's almost painful to think about being apart. You are my everything, my world, and my future. I'll do everything in my power to keep you happy and safe. You're the only light in my life, the reason I breathe, and the voice in my heart."

Creampies - Seeing thick globs of jizz leaking out of freshly-fucked holes. Is an intimate sign of ownership to him in his eyes.

Forced oral servicing - Making you worship his cock relentlessly, never allowing you to stop or refuse, even when exhausted or gagging.

Edging - Keeping you right on the brink of orgasm, pushing you back to the edge over and over, never letting you cum until he decides you deserve release.

Spanking - Smacking ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks, both as discipline and arousal. The sting and warmth linger on his hand which he looks forward to when he does it.

Sensory deprivation - Using blindfolds, earplugs, or gagging to isolate sensations, heightening awareness of touch and pressure alone.

[dominantslasherking]

(whatever character cause i can't think of anyone rn lol) who's obsessed with and obsessed with pleasing the reader? like would absolutely do anything to worship him

Jed Olsen/Ghostface [DBD] With dominant male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Jed was extremely hyper and more excited about his killing rounds today, specifically because the newest killer [Name] which the entity is known to favor most of the time, is going to be on a duo kill session with him.

And god was Ghostface obsessed with this handsome killer, just seeing him walking around with his weapon got Jed all riled up. Of course [Name] wasn't a completely silent killer, when he did talk his voice was so fucking husky that Jed nearly jumped the killers bones every time he hears him speak.

Jed was simply glad the entity decided to change the games up a bit, with more survivors in the round and more killers to even it out, "Heyy, buddy--ole pal!~" Jed teased his smaller frame walking right next to your right side his mask was pointed upwards to look at you since you were much taller then he was.

You simply stayed silent looking down at the other killer both of you felt your bodies tingle, meaning you were getting teleported into the map.

Once you were teleported you wasted no time searching for survivors, Jed following you eagerly, once Jed spotted a survivor who was hiding, he smirked under his mask, taking the chance to sneak up behind the survivor and slash at their back.

Jed grabbed the survivor and placed his knife on their neck, "Listen here bitch, if I even see you struggling just a tiny bit I'm going to slice my neck into your flesh and then chop your head off!" Jed hissed into the Survivors ear, before gripping the survivor's hair with his free hand.

He threw the survivor at your feet, "I got this one for you.." Jed bashfully whispered, kicking the survivor's stomach for trying to grip at your ankles. "You---stupid---!!!!STOP TRYING TO TOUCH HIM!" Jed screamed crazily, plunging his knife into the survivor's back, over and over, until his mask and the dirt was drenched in blood.

"I'm...oh gosh so sorry, I stole your kill--" Jed whimpered under your gaze noticing you tilting your head at him, his heart beating rapidly at your full attention. "I was, just so jealous, I'm your number 1 fan after all" Jed slowly whispered getting up off his feet, Jed could hear your slow deep breaths, "Are you angry?" Jed asked leaning against your chest in a testing manner.

Jed felt something hard press against him, causing him to freeze, his body shaking a little from the realization passing through him. "Oh....ohhh~" Jed let out a little chuckle as he pressed himself harder against your body, his hand sliding down to grab your hard length.

"Fuck, is this for me? You're so fucking huge, oh god, oh god!" Jed pushed the dead body out of the way getting on his knees, he was about to release your cock from your clothes but was interrupted by a survivor running past.

Ghostface shot up, "I'll get them, okay? Then I will help you with your...problem---big problem, later, after the games~" Jed purred, his thoughts filled with lust at taking your cock for himself.

<>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>><<<<>>>><<>>>

The game had finished, obviously, the two killers winning, right now both Jed and [Name] were currently somewhere in the killer's section of the forest, far away from the survivor's border or any other slashers.

Jed's mask was on the floor, relentlessly sloppy and wet gagging sounds filling the entire area.

Tears glittered in his eyes as you were gripping his soft hair and fucking his wet craven mouth. Jed was sucking in his cheeks letting his tongue run along your cock eagerly, his saliva going all over as he choked on your cock.

His throat was being stretched open from your length sliding in and out of it, it was obvious that this wasn't the first round as Jed's face, was covered in cum, and there was cum dripping out of his mouth and onto his neck.

With a pop You slid out of his mouth, Jed suddenly caught his breath and looked at you, "Pleaseee~Cmon please~ I really want more of your cum!~" Jed cried out, his hand resting on your thigh as he opened up his mouth, showing you the cum on his tongue as he stuck it out eagerly to taste more of your cock and the sweet nectar that flowed down his throat.

You complied, jamming your cock back in, at the clearly happy Slasher who looked up at you as he took your cock inside his mouth.