CC FIC WHERE SHE'S A PERVERTED PHOTOGRAPHER GHOSTFACE. ADD SOME KINKY KNIFE PLAY WHILE YOU'RE AT IT PLEASE AND THJANL YOU.
PLAYDATE — C.C
✝︎ synopsis— your teammate has been stalking you for the last few months, but you never realized until tonight.
✝︎ word count — 6428
✝︎ warning — everything is consensual. i want to repeat that cause it may come off as a little rapey, but it’s meant in a freaky way. nothing too bad in this part because this is pt 1 and is establishing some of the plot.
✝︎ author’s note — i do not condone any of the behavior in the following fic. i do, however, love a crazy woman. this is pt 1.
The sound of the speakers filled the room. A loud, blood curdling scream shattering the delicate peace in the living room. The lights were off, only a distant lamp spreading its warm glow. The moonlight was shining through your window, a foggy haze in the sky that dimmed its intensity. Snow was still falling peacefully, cut out hearts strung up on every pharmacy and store. Love swarming in the air. You’d heard all of your friends and their ideas on how to ask someone to be their valentine, and it made you want to throw up.
You jumped from the sudden sound, you’d been half asleep by the time the movie had finally picked up. You two were watching Halloween, Caitlin had begged you all week— at every practice, every little meeting, to just watch a movie with her. It was Valentine’s time, you should be watching some cheesy love story, but Caitlin was absolutely adamant to watch a scary movie with you. She was disappointed when your head had drifted over onto her shoulder, she’d wanted you to pay attention to the movie, to her.
Caitlin’s muscular arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you, when you had jolted. It was almost like she wanted to comfort you, but she squeezed too hard sometimes. “Scared?” She was smiling down at the sight of your pretty face. She always liked the way your eyes looked when you squinted from being half asleep.
You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m not scared.” The way you huffed indignantly indicated otherwise. She didn’t take her eyes off your pouty lips and annoyed features until another scream came up.
Caitlin’s face focused back onto the movie like nothing happened. Her pale fingers circling on your hip. She loved to be so close to you. She could smell your perfume, her lungs burning from how strong it was, but she didn’t back away. Instead she’d press her nose into your neck pretending to do something, like grab her phone, or a snack off the table.
The movie kept on. You watched specific scenes that caught your interest but not much else. She knew you weren’t watching the movie, but it was making her even more upset that you hadn’t even looked at her much. “You gonna be okay if I go to the bathroom?” She teased you. Her voice was light and playful like she wasn’t angry that you couldn’t even do her the decency of talking. Caitlin’s lips were quirked into a cocky smirk. Her nose scrunching every time she inhaled your perfume that lingered in the air.
“Whatever, just go.” You mumbled beneath your breath. You’d felt sick all night, so it wasn’t like it was on purpose to be so avoidant. Caitlin took it personally still, but she didn’t show it to you.
She slipped from you and went to the bathroom.
It must’ve been fifteen minutes since she left. You squirmed on the couch, feeling cold since her warm body left you. You grabbed the blanket on the top of the couch that was delicately folded. You’d put so much effort into tonight’s little play date: making snacks, folding blankets, putting the pillows in proper places and even taking the time to light scented candles. It looks like everything of a real date, but you two weren’t dating, and well— you tended to say Caitlin was too much.
It frustrated you. Her endless calling, the way every time you started dating someone new: another basketball star, an old college friend, or a model, it never seemed to go well. She’d always grab you and drag you into a tight hug or feel you up infront of them. Her hand sliding against your ass, her fingers curling into your hair, Caitlin always pushed the boundaries. You’d tell her to stop, but she didn’t care. You honestly pushed it off as her being stupid and arrogant.
The worst time that you could remember was when Caitlin had texted you, is everything okay? After your girlfriend broke up with you claiming she’d been sent death threats from someone. Your girlfriend had shown you the letter.
Messily folded, crinkled at the corners like big hands fumbled it, blood staining the corners in little droplets. It was written in regular ink, luckily, or you would’ve thought that it was serious. You had told her it was probably a prank, but she shoved you away and screamed at you, asking you why you didn’t care more than that.
How was it your fault, though? You weren’t the one who did it or asked someone to. You weren’t even sure that it was an actual threat or just a prank. After all, that happened on Halloween, so it wasn’t like it couldn’t have been a joke from anyone to scare her. You got lost in all of the swirling thoughts, not even noticing the rapid beat in your chest— the feeling of dread washing over you.
Where was Caitlin? As soon as you lifted off your elbows to look over the back of the couch, she was coming back. Her footsteps were always light, but sometimes her black air forces dragged across the floor. She had a little smile on her face like always. Her dark brow peeping up at the sight of your pale lips and red little cheeks. “What’s up with you?” She asked. Her voice was raspy and a low murmur like nothing was a big deal.
She moved around the couch and settled back in next to you. You stared at her, then her hands, then her relaxed expression. “Where the hell have you been?” It didn’t help the fact you nearly squeaked when you asked. Your voice cracking around a syllable nervously, her presence was making you uneasy tonight. Weird because she always made you feel safe. Caitlin would do anything to make you smile. She’d even make jokes at practice that if she could get you to smile at least once, she’d do some terrifying drill.
Caitlin’s lips parted just to reveal an almost wolfish grin. She glanced at you for a second, then her arm slid around your shoulder. “I had to use the bathroom?” Then when she saw your brow furrowed, clearly not believing her lie, she laughed at you.
Her bright laugh was always warm, cheerful, and clear. It was probably the prettiest thing about her. “‘M just a little nervous, you know?” Caitlin asked. Her fingers drew little circles on top of your clothed shoulder. You huffed a whiny noise at her and leaned into the warmth of Caitlin’s embrace: her forearms were firm, draped around your shoulder.
“Nervous about what, CC?” You didn’t understand why your guard was so high around her. Especially when she was always so sweet to you. Caitlin would do anything to please you, literally. She’d jump through hoops to entertain you.
“You.” She mumbled. You didn’t hear her clearly, so you brushed it off. Your body sinking into the couch, your hair brushing against her chest.
Her perfume filled the air around you, bringing you to close your eyes. It was a faint scent of lavender along with the soap she used that smelled like cedar wood. The pressure of her arm around you was forcing all of those thoughts away. She was so warm, so close to you, and you could feel the beat of her heart thumping slowly.
Nervous, yet so calm?
Your eyes fluttered open a few times. The lights were off, and the windows had fogged up from the cold outside. Snow drifting away and landing on the dead bushes outside your apartment. The movie had ended and the screen was on the menu with a million new movies to choose from. You hadn’t even noticed Caitlin was gone until you felt a chill run up your body. It was always so cold without her. You didn’t understand why, but it was. Her corded muscles always provided warmth, the way her bicep would curl around your neck while she dragged you in a headlock.
You couldn’t remember her leaving. It wasn’t really like Cait to leave without saying something. Maybe it was because you were sleeping so peacefully. You stretched out on the couch, every bone in your body cracking, before leaning to get your phone off the table. It was hot to touch, but it wasn’t on charge? You hadn’t touched it since Caitlin came over, but it was low on battery too.
Caitlin sent you a message a little over an hour ago, “Sorry, had to leave. I didn’t want to get snowed in.”
Since when did Caitlin not want to get snowed in with you? Even you knew it’d practically be a day in bliss for the girl if she was stuck with you. You were her favorite person to annoy, the person she loved to stick her tongue out at, the person to shove and play hands with. You typed back, drowsy and slow, “It’s ok. You should’ve stayed.”
It was a good thing she wasn’t there when you’d sent that, or she’d be absolutely pissed. You’d seriously text her that of all things after she’d spent the whole night trying to keep your attention? Poking you, asking you if you were okay, even offering to go and grab you some medicine from the store.
Sweet Cait would do anything for you. She could be a little rough sometimes, groping you, but you pissed her off a lot. In her mind, you deserved every harsh shove, every time she’d grab you and push you into the floor at practice. All you ever did was mess with her after all. You don’t know how many times you came home from practice and had bruises on your arms, sides, and hips from Caitlin during drills for the Love of God. She wasn’t even that harsh with her rivals during heated games.
She confused you, but you confused her. Hot and then cold, yes and then no, but she honestly wanted to fuck you in and then out. Again, she’d never say that to you. Caitlin cared too much about your feelings, you knew that. You always try to tell yourself she’s just a bit much, it’s just who she is, she’s playful, loud, funny— she’s just a friend who gets too competitive during practice.
You finally got off the couch, picking up the bowls with candy hearts, chocolates, man. You really put in extra effort for this play date. Caitlin couldn’t say you didn’t do anything for her, at least in your perspective, but in hers? She only saw a girl who backed out every chance it got serious.
You went into your bedroom, laying down, there was a spot at your knee that felt kind of damp? You were too tired to check it though. You thought maybe it was from your shower earlier in the day. That made sense, yeah.
Why was it warm though? You kicked your cover off slightly to look, and your sheets had a little bit of dampness. It wasn’t much though. What was it from? Were your sheets just warm? You didn’t know, and honestly, you didn’t care right now. Whatever it was, it’d be fine.
Ding. Ding.
Your phone buzzed twice. A random spam number popping up in your notifications. It couldn’t be some weirdo in another country trying to steal your information, because they cut through your do not disturb. Who the hell?
There were two images.
Ding.
And a message. You couldn’t make out the images since your eyes were blurry, and the screen was so bright, you tried to swipe it away, telling yourself you’d check it in the morning until you tapped on open instead of delete.
Two pictures of you, freshly taken, cause the time on the clock next to you was minutes ago. In the first picture, you had your covers half way on, curled up nice and warm, there was a gloved hand cupping your tit, but then in the second? That was whenever the sicko really tried to make it look good.
Your covers were pulled down to your thighs. Their gloved hand pressed against your clothed cunt. Their hands were big, their fingers were flexed across you like they owned you. You hated that picture. Who would even take something that disgusting?
Why were you fucking wet? Oh. That’s right. You were dreaming of Caitlin. Your best fucking friend on the Indiana Fever. What the hell was wrong with you? You didn’t like her. Caitlin could just be so needy, stupid, and a little bit annoying with how overprotective she was over you. She was hot though, that’s your only thought. Lean body, thick thighs, veins peaking through her fleshy hands… You could feel your panties sticking to your flesh, and the message made it even worse, “You’re such a slut soaking my fingers even when sleeping.”
What? You jolted in your bed, trying to see whoever it was, but everything was untouched except for you. There were red marks on your chest and above your panties line.
You got up to look through your apartment, but nobody was here? It was empty, not a single sound. The TV was off, your drawers were closed, everything was safe and sound. You weren’t hurt.
An arm clamped around your collarbone, your body instantly stiffening. You tried to scream, but the palm slapped overtop of your mouth preventing any noise from escaping. You could smell a faint scent of familiar perfume, but you couldn’t make it out for the life of you.
The hand was gloved like the one in the picture. They didn’t say anything, you couldn’t even hear their breathing. Their hand didn’t let up. Your body jerked, trying to fight, but each resistant act caused a rougher restraint. It felt familiar— the way they were forcing you up against the wall, then slamming you back into their body whenever you’d try to fight. Your mouth was bleeding from the force.
Ghostface, fuck. You’ve seen that mask a million times on Halloween.
You could see the mask in the mirror of your apartment. Your blood running cold as a shiver crawled up your skin. Their eyes peeled to the mirror, looking at you both, you could faintly see a wink beneath the mask.
“Who are you?!” Your yell was muffled into black fabric.
“Stop being so damn annoying.” You couldn’t make the voice out cause the mask caused it to be deeper than it was. “You’ll be a good girl, yeah..?”
When you whined into the warm glove, their fingers tightened around your mouth. For a split second, they let go, and you thought you’d have the chance to scream… but their hand slapped your mouth— hard. It was stinging, already flushing red, blood spilling from the corner of your mouth, but they didn’t even care as their hand covered it again.
“Okay, baby, let’s try that again.” They whispered into your ear. Their other hand circling around your waist, tenderly grazing your navel. It was such a mockery. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to prevent the hiss or whine or whatever the hell that was going to escape because of this person. “You’re gonna be quiet when I let go of you, or I’m gonna slice this pretty throat open.” Their voice rasped into your ear. Your shoulders shaking with each silent sob.
Their hand released your mouth, then their arm left you entirely. You fell forwards automatically trying to catch your breath. You could feel the ghost of their weight on you still. They didn’t leave immediately, instead, you watched them from the mirror. You didn’t dare to look back.
They stood still. Their eyes focused on you, dark, for a moment. You saw those eyes shut like this was painful for them to do. Their hand reached out to you, and you instantly pulled away which caused their eyes to narrow, but they didn’t say anything.
The sound of their boots scraped against the floor for the first two steps then it was as light as rain pattering on the roof top.
“Dumb whore.” Last two words that practically hissed at you as they walked out your apartment slamming the door.
The ball caught the net every time Caitlin shot. It never failed. The ball would spin right into the basket, causing a nice little sound, other times it’d go straight in and only the sound of the ball bouncing would echo.
You showed up to the court a bit late, explaining to everyone that a random masked intruder had broken into your apartment and assaulted you and took pictures of it. Caitlin bounced the ball then took a step back to shoot another three. Her release was quick and pretty, and she looked over at you for a brief second before going back at it.
She didn’t think you’d actually show up to practice with her. Sure, she offered because she wanted to get back into rhythm with you and all before the season starts picking back up, but you usually denied her. The same way you rejected all of her sweet
After that, all of her shots seemed to be paced faster, like she was rushing herself just to get to talk to you.
You had to do your own, so you didn’t understand why.
It was always so tedious. You knew the drills were good for you, but you wanted to relax after the night you had.
Half way into your drill, you heard Caitlin call for you several times as she jogged over. “Hey, hey. What were they talkin’ bout? Someone got into your place?” She was frowning. Her big hazel eyes shiny underneath the pale lights above.
“Yeah.. it was some weirdo.. they were crazy..” You muttered. You don’t really want to talk a lot about it. It fucking traumatized you, but you didn’t want to admit to anyone that it was hot at the same time. You didn’t understand why you were wet last night. Did you seriously soak their fingers?
“What’s on your mind?” Caitlin eased her way to you. Her big hands took the ball from you tossing it mindlessly down the court, so your attention was completely on her. Her thumb and finger pinched your chin slightly to make you look up at her. She saw the corner of your mouth bruised and frowned. “What the hell did they do to you?”
You tried to pull away, but her hand tightened which scared you cause it was like last night. You told yourself it was paranoia because the action was similar. “Cait, don’t touch me.”
“Please.”
She’d never heard you beg before. Caitlin’s hand dropped back to her side. “Alright, sorry. What happened though? Never seen you so spooked.” Her brow kept furrowing whenever she’d take another bruise. Her eyes drifted down to the swelling of your collarbone. You saw her jaw clench slightly.
“Just some weirdo..” You murmured. You wish she’d let it go, but she wouldn’t. Caitlin never let go of anything, even petty grudges from the second grade. “I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.. they had a mask on. I think it was a woman.. they had some perfume on, but I was so scared..”
Caitlin let out a breath she’d been holding in deep. You looked at her with confusion, and she immediately said, “Sorry, I’m just glad they didn’t kill you.”
What? Cait, seriously. That was the last thing you wanted to think about was the fact that they could come back and kill you. “Yeah, no.. umm..” You looked away from Caitlin.
She didn’t understand why you were being so awkward with her. “Are you mad cause I didn’t stay?” She asked quietly. Caitlin took a small step closer, treading on the little space between the two of you. “I’m so sorry… I locked the door behind me. I didn’t think anyone could get in to do that.”
“No.. no, it’s not your fault, Caity,” you sighed.
“If I had stayed, nothing would’ve happened.” She argued back immediately. “Hey, why don’t you stay with me for a few days?” The offer was sweet. It really was. It was exactly what you needed.
You never hugged Caitlin on your own will. You never kissed her even if it was only on the cheek. Sure, she was your friend and teammate, but it wasn’t your kind of thing. However, at this moment? You pulled her into a hug. “You’re a life saver..” You knew you were safe with her, right?
Caitlin laughed at you a little. It was soft and humble, as her fingers caught in your hair and slightly tugged to undo a knot in them. Her nail barely scraped your neck from it, “Yeah, yeah, I try.” She mumbled into your ear. Her breath was hot as it hit against your flesh. You could feel her muscles flex through that thin practice jersey, the way her biceps instinctively pulled and tugged underneath her skin while holding you. “You’ll be okay, promise.”
You believed her promise. You had no reason not to.
Caitlin didn’t even let you get your stuff alone. Her car pulled in right behind yours in your driveway. When your engine stopped roaring, so did hers. You were already at the door when she yelled, “Hey, wait up!” She stumbled over the bottom stair before getting behind you.
Why was she doing all of that?
Then she smiled at you, her teeth were pretty and flashing, her dimples caving around her lips, “What? Someone could be in there. I didn’t want you to go in alone.”
So caring. It was actually a little too sweet how she was so protective over you. You were used to careless friends who would’ve told you, it’s fine, get over it, but Caitlin truly broke the mold on every aspect. Being a ball player, a good friend, beautiful— wait. Why were you staring at her? Why couldn’t you take your eyes off of her all of sudden?
Fuck, that weirdo really messed you up cause why did you want to kiss your friend that you’ve no interest in?
You opened your door immediately, trying to get away from Caitlin, which made her frown, but you didn’t catch it. You had your smallest suitcase on the bed. You only planned on staying with her for a week or so: long enough for your nerves to settle.
When going through your drawer, you noticed a lot of your underwear was missing. You’ve been noticing that beforehand, but you assumed you’d lost them or they were still in the laundry basket.
You forced yourself to swallow down the ball of fear. The thickness of your emotions choking you out until you felt a familiar hand on your hip. Caity. Her fingers twitched lightly against your jeans, “What’s wrong?” She sounded pouty. Her voice was a little whiny against your ear.
You didn’t mean to lean back into her, but you did. Your body had pulled from her, but her grip tightened enough to keep you still. She leaned her head enough to where her lips barely brushed your ear.
She felt so familiar right now, but you couldn’t remember why. “I’ll get your stuff for you.. go get in the car.” Cait was trying to comfort you as her other hand gently caressed your other hip. She grasped both of them desperately like she was scared something was wrong, but there was another tone to it. It was the way her nails scratched and made the denim rut.
You listened to her though. You couldn’t bring yourself not to. She was taking care of you like always. Oh, Caitlin. You ached for her in ways you definitely shouldn’t. Your friend. Your teammate.
After a few minutes of you sitting in your car, Caitlin came out. She had the tiny suitcase packed full of clothes for you. It looked like she put your entire drawer in there from how puffy and nearly busted it looked.
You were trying not to laugh as she dragged it behind her. The wheels were kind of scraping against the blacktop, being hard to roll, from the additional weight it wasn’t used to.
“Nah. Get outta your car. We goin’ in my mine.” Caitlin demanded shortly. You never heard her talk to you like that, and you didn’t understand why. Wouldn’t it be best to go in your own car?
Caitlin shot a glance at you when you didn’t immediately listen.
“Are you deaf? I know AB didn’t hit you that hard with the ball.”
Finally, you got out of the car. She looked partially annoyed like something was wrong. You stared at the complex expression of her face. Her pale face looked straight ahead. You got in the passenger seat. The car was warm since she kept her heater going even when in your apartment.
You caved into the seat immediately. It felt good as the heat radiated into her body. February was usually the coldest month, and you hated winter to begin with. Spring was more of your thing. Flowers blooming, the sun shining, and watching everything come back to life inside of yourself as a result. “I’m sorry.. I thought it’d be best if we just took my car. That way they might come back and security will catch them trying to break in.” Caitlin’s voice was a little raspy like she was tired.
“You’re right.” You mumbled low. It was hard for Cait to hear you over the rhythm of the music, but it was clear she did cause her lips parted into a quick smile that faded immediately when she noticed you were looking at her.
“‘M sorry this… person is messing with you.” She said. Her hand squeezing around the steering wheel tightly. Her knuckles bulging slightly as she made a hard turn towards her place in Indiana
You didn’t know what to say. You’re sorry too. You didn’t even know what you did to deserve this. You weren’t a bad person, and you haven’t made anyone upset. You just had bad luck. You guess.
“Yo, what if it’s the same person who was threatening your ex?”
Shit. You didn’t even think about that. It could’ve been, but you doubted it. That person was leaving bloody notes, and it’s acts felt more like a joke than a genuine threat. “I don’t think so.”
Caitlin hummed a little tune in response to your denial. “Whatever. You’re safe either way,” Silence broke between her words when she added. “With me.”
The last three days have been agonizingly slow. You couldn’t go anywhere without Caitlin cause you left your car, and she didn’t trust you with hers apparently. She’d do anything you wanted though. She’d get you your favorite foods, she’d even pay for your stuff when you’d go shopping. Cait was spoiling you.
You got some fancy black dress for a future team dinner because of her. She told you how good it looked on you with that cocky smile so full of teeth. Her nose scrunched at you sometimes, playfully, and she would snarl and tackle you on the couch or bed.
She was soooo playful.
You missed your freedom though. You missed being able to go and do whatever, spend your time with whoever, but now you were stuck with Caitlin all the time. It wasn’t the worst thing. Caitlin was good to you. You should be grateful to even be here with her instead of your apartment.
Today, she came back from a dinner with her old friends that she’d begged to come see her. Her hazel eyes were a little dilated as she looked you up and down while you laid across her couch like you owned it. Your legs spread across it, your head tilted back into a pillow— “Caittttt.” You groaned.
Caitlin smirked. Her thick eyebrow raised, “What?” She asked. You looked so comfortable there. She didn’t look worried that someone could’ve broke in while she was gone: in fact, she was a little drunk. You could hear it in her voice when her words slurred together, the way her movements were heavier, but you could smell it on her right now. A thick, intoxicating scent that stuck to her clothes and her hot breath that was currently leaned down against your scalp since she dropped her phone in the floor. Her hand was braced against your head, her other hand sweeping beneath the couch to try and get it.
“Caitlin,” You breathed. You could smell sin dripping from her lips, the way that her breath curled like smoke against your head. Her fingers clutched the couch’s fabric when she heard your whiny voice.
“Hmm?”
“Did you have fun..?” It took everything within you to not tell her you needed her, that her warm presence was enough to drive you insane after days of only her.
Caitlin’s hand accidentally grabbed your throat when she leaned over further, still trying to support herself while mindlessly batting for her phone. She felt the way you tried to swallow— your neck getting stuck on her fingers— it was so…
Her thumb pressed deeper into the side of your throat, suffocating you slightly before she let go of you completely. Caitlin withdrew with a large smile and her phone in her hand. It had a hairball and dust sticking to her case, “Sorry!” She laughed it off like she did with everything.
It’s like Caitlin was immune to being hurt. Thousands of people mocked her online everyday, calling her lazy, weak, or overrated. The insults never ended especially for her, and while some days, Caitlin might seem dimmer.
She never stopped laughing. She never stopped trying to make you laugh, especially lately.
That bright laughter eased the nerves cursing through your body. That feeling of anxiety easing when she patted your shoulder with a slap like she’d do in practice.
Home. It was a place. It was your apartment. A boring, monotone apartment with medals and trophies from high school to college that showcased your existence as an athlete, but there was nothing in your apartment that represented you as a human: as someone who yearns and breathed.
Home. It was a metaphor. It was the warmth that covered you in dark nights. It was the light that gave you heat during the cold winter. Home. It was the person who made you smile when life crushed your shoulders. Home. It was the person who helped you breathe when your lungs felt like they’d collapse from fear.
Where was home?
Was it at your apartment? Was it here? Was it Caitlin’s embrace?
The slam of a door woke you up tonight. It was your first night away from Caitlin. You felt a heat between your legs, your panties were stickier— every wiggle of your hips made you feel that distinct gush between your thighs. Why were you so wet?
The bed was so comfortable right now. Your pillows nestled with you, your covers up on your body, protecting you from the loud fan next to you. You should really go check on what door just slammed.
You should be scared, but you were still half-asleep. You almost didn’t care if that masked person showed back up. It’d be fine, you thought. What’s the worst they’d do? Touch you? That’s exactly what you needed right now. You were so pent up. You spent the last week with your teammate who you swear is just a friend, but every time Caitlin’s big hands touched you, the fire in your body would be set ablaze. It wasn’t your fault. It really wasn’t. She was too sexy. Caitlin was muscular, tall, and she had such a firm body. She’d hold you when you were scared too. You were vulnerable which was your excuse for right now.
You really wish that damn stranger would come in here right now. You were so soaked. Each memory of Caitlin for over the last week was making you subtly grind against the mattress. And out of desperation?
You picked your phone up. You could’ve dialed Caitlin, someone who was safe, sweet, and would probably fuck you good, but no… you texted the unknown number. You could hear it— a faint ding in your apartment when you’d typed:
“I’m so fucking wet”
You knew they had to be there. That ding wasn’t coincidental. They didn’t read your message, and the isolation was burning you. You needed someone, fucking anyone, would be enough to satisfy the need in your stomach— clenching, curling, for something in you. You could touch yourself, sure, you could.
But you remembered the night that Ghostface grabbed you by the throat and pulled you against them— they had the same figure that Caitlin had. You could remember their burning skin as they pressed themselves closer to your ass, the way they grinded against you… threatened you, called you a dumb slut. You certainly weren’t proving them wrong. That’s for sure.
“Please.. you’re right. I am a dumb slut.. I’m sorry”
You texted them again, and their phone dinged. Where were they? Finally, you pulled yourself out of the bed. You had nothing on but a pair of pretty panties and a bra. The air was too cold compared to your drooling pussy. The cool breeze making your body ache even more for a warm body. Your apartment seemed empty as you went room by room until… you’d seen the silhouette.
Their hand was caressing an image of you and the Indiana Fever. The gloved thumb tracing the outline of you specifically. Your breath hitched, and while you wanted them, you immediately turned and ran back to your bedroom. Fuck. Maybe it’s more fun when you didn’t see the knife in their other hand.
You texted Caitlin as fast as you could, nearly fumbling your phone in the floor from how hard your nails clicked against the screen, “Cait, Cait, please they’re here.”
That’s when you got confused. Why was there another ding? Caitlin? No, no, no. Not Caitlin. She wouldn’t do this to you. There’s no way. The similarities were coincidental, surely, your stomach was clenching in anxiety. Why did it ding? Wave of dread flushed your body in one quick flood.
You dinged her again, “Caitlin, where the fuck are you?” But it didn’t make another noise. You felt relief flood your system. Thank God. You were terrified that this random person could be Caitlin that she was the one who’d been messing with you. That’s when you saw the shadow creeping up to your bedroom door.
They were slow. Their boots were dragging across the wooden tiles in your apartment. Why the hell did you get yourself into this?
“Princess, where you at?” Their voice was raspy, deeper because of the mask, and their frame filled the door way— preventing the small light from your lamp in the living room to seep in anymore.
You couldn’t tell if they were looking at you or the way your legs were parted. You didn’t mean to have them parted, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Still such a dumb fuckin’ slut. You just don’t learn.” They were so cruel. Their words mocked you, you squeezed your legs together tightly, but it only made it worse. Thick tension seeping into your drenched panties.
“S-Stop.. I’m..” You stuttered on your words. You wanted them to stop cause you could see the silver blade’s glint in the lamp’s low light behind them, but you also wanted them close to you. Their body pressing down on top of yours, their black cloak suffocating your body, drowning you in the abyss of darkness while their hips grinded against yours. Your pupils were blown wide from arousal and fear.
They didn’t say anything as their boots echoed until they were in front of you. They could see your wide eye gaze, the way your fingers were trembling despite the white-knuckled grip you had on the sheets. They liked to see the fear in your eyes. They wondered if the fear clawed at you, did it travel through your blood and make goosebumps crawl across your skin.
It did.
Goosebumps coated your skin, the hair on your neck and arms saluting this person, who stood in front of you with such… detachment.
It’s like they didn’t care if you were terrified or not of them. Their cold blade pressed to the underside of your jaw, and your entire body shook at the stinging sensation. It was enough for blood to pool in little drops as the blade would sting, then soothe, then sting again until the knife’s tip was pressed beneath your other ear.
Not a word was transpired between the two of you. Blood was roaring in your ear, so maybe they did say something, but you couldn’t hear it. Your heart thumped in your throat before the beat was absent in your chest as they let the knife fall to the floor— clanking loudly. “You’re so pretty when you’re scared. Like a cute little doe in headlights.” They complimented you beneath their breath.
You heard the rattle of keys as their gloved hand snuck into their pocket, then they pulled out a camera. Their free hand snatched your chin when you tried to look at the knife in the floor, your bottom lip quivering: “At me…” The moment your eyes raised to them, “Atta girl.” Their fingers tightened around your chin before letting go, their thumb had absentmindedly swiped over the swell of your bottom lip.
They grasped the camera with both hands. Click. A flash sat off in your bedroom that filled the room with the sudden bright light, a picture of you in the worst way possible: hot, salty tears slowly dripping down your cheeks, a swollen mouth, a bloody neck, and messy hair, and the worst of all was the wetness between your thighs from missing her.
“W-Who are you?” You finally rasped out when they twisted to leave. You’d asked them before in anger, but this time, you sounded broken— scared. Your tongue curling around the syllables tentatively like you were scared they’d spin and slash your throat until you were bleeding out on their boot. Their steps faltered, the boots didn’t drag for once, and you instinctively knocked the knife underneath the bed. The handle scraping against the wood before a deep voice mutters,
“You know.”
