#ghostface fic

Tara caught a hold of your smile. Coming to lean over the table to snatch your phone away. Taking one look at the screen, before showing it to everyone. “With three x’s. Lover boy’s got it hot.” Showing around with a good laugh. “Give it back!” You called out, getting up. Trying to grab your phone back. Tara turned the phone again to her. “What are you wearing tonight?” Tara read out loud.

A text from a few days ago. Laughing hysterically. “Who knew Ethan had a closeted obsession.” Saying it in a silly yet mocking tone. “Knock it off.” Mindy said, not feeling comfortable with it. You went around the table, grabbing her hand with force. Snatching it away. Tara’s laughter dimmed, sitting back down. “Relax Y/n. I was just joking.” 

You found it anything but laughable. Vibe changed amongst friends. Then came the sound of pounding and girly moans. Each sharing a sneaky glance at each other. “Quinn and her gentleman caller are at it again.” Teasing with a silly smirk.

Regular thumping sounding from the other room. Tara and Chad snickering on purpose. Your brows furrowed when everyone’s phone went off at the same time. Looking all questionable at each other. Fingers trembling over the screen for what they were seeing. A scream coming from Quinn made everyone jump up. 

Rush into the other room, joining Anika. “Wait!” Chad said, pulling Tara back before she could reach the door. Only the sounds of breaths filling the air. An eerie silence from behind the door. Countless seconds pass by in anticipation.

”Run.” Mindy said. Before her words were fully out, the door swung open. Quinn stumbles forwards, falling hard to Anika who caught her. Both on the floor, Anika screaming for the blood all over Quinn’s body. Your gaze went from Quinn to the door opening in a split second. Slowly moving backwards at the ghost face entering. 

There was screaming. Chad and Tara taking a run for it. In the chaos, you got shoved back. Tumbling over the comfy chair. Falling hard on your chest. Mindy and Anika slowly turned. “Oh f*ck.” Mindy said, getting up. The ghostface took a slice at her before she could fully react. Mindy yelled in pain, holding her arm.

Blood gushing down in streams. “Mindy!” Anika yelled out. Wrapping her arms around Ghostface’s legs out of revenge. Drawing the killer away from Mindy. Mindy ended up on the floor. Ghostface’s hand wrapped tightly around her throat. “Mindy.” You whispered out, having pushed yourself back up. She was crying in pain, rocking herself for comfort. 

Your eyes widened when Ghostface pulled Anika up by her throat. Using such strength, you had never seen before. Moving her around and pushing her against the cabinets. Before you could intervene, the knife cut through her flesh. The scream she released, shaking you to your bones. Screaming more when the knife got twisted around.

Without thinking much, you ran up to the killer. Pulling at Ghostface’s elbow. The knife was released from flesh. Ghostface taking a quick glance over his shoulder. Your eyes fluttered hazily when the elbow blow had come in hard. Stumbling dizzily backwards till you dropped down. Anika screamed again when Ghostface stuck the knife back in, driving it upwards to her chest. 

Hazily you saw Sam jump over you. Coming to knock Ghostface on the head with a kitchen object. Ghostface tumbled to the ground. “Go!” Sam shouted loudly, taking Anika. Mindy had pulled herself up. Grabbing Anika by her other arm, stumbling and pushing her with Sam into the next room. Mindy and Anika pantingly dropped onto the mattress. Sam closed the door in the lock.

“Sh*t.’ Mindy called out, making Sam turn desperately around. “Y/n is still out there.” Staring with fear back at the door. Knowing they have sealed your faith just now. “Sh*t!” Sam called out frantically. Wanting to open the door, but hesitated. Knowing what was just behind the door. 

You sputtered out some blood that had found its way in your throat, from the nosebleed that was caused. Eyes widening when the mask came into view. Slowly coming to hover over you, starting from your knees till you came face to face with it. Body shuddered when you felt the pressure of a hand on your thigh.

“Please…” You begged, chest spasming from the sobs. Breath shocking when the knife came in your sight. Blood still dripping from it. “Please…” You whispered, closing your eyes tightly. Feeling the side of the knife against your cheek. Cold and wet from blood. A shiver went down your spine, when the side of the knife brushed down to your jawline. 

Ghostface changed the position he was holding the knife. Letting the sharp tip touch your collarbone. Sputtering out sobs, you moved your head restless around. “Ethan…I’m sorry.” You said, thinking in your final moments of him. Thinking how you would never be able to see him again.

That you had to leave this earth without him telling how you truly felt for him. Ghostface’s hand trembled. Lifting the knife an inch up so it wasn’t touching your skin anymore. Hesitant by your words. Your eyes widened once more when Ghostface came leaning down. Allowing the mask to touch your lips. 

The door to the side opened. Disrupting Ghostface. Quickly Ghostface’s head lifted up. Staring at Sam and Mindy. Sam threw a book at Ghostface. Easily ducking away from it. Hand clenching around the knife when another book came flying his way. Jaw tensing underneath the mask.

A third and fourth book flung at him. Knocking against his shoulder and back. Ghostface quickly glanced down at you. Almost an apologetic glance. Jamming the knife in your thigh hard. Your back arched with a bone chilling scream. Feeling the weight on you shift. Reaching for your leg with shaky hands. 

Ghostface getting the door slammed in his face. Knife forwards, he ran around to reach the other side. Seeing the blood on your finger tips, made you gasp shakily. Knowing you couldn’t stay here, you started crawling. Leaving a trail of smudged blood behind. Shaking and crying for how close you could’ve been to death.

Everything took a lot of effort. Burning up with sweat. Pulling yourself a bit upwards by the blanket that hung loosely from the sofa. Groaning in pain, trying to get up, but the pain caved you back down. Too exhausted, you accepted your faith. Resting against the sofa on the floor. Knowing he might come back to finish you off. 

You blinked surprised at the red and blue lights flashing through the window. Sirens following loudly. Sounding like a call from above. Exhaling loud at the hurried footsteps coming up the stairs. Door getting kicked in by police officers.

Their walkies going off like crazy with information. The first person they noticed was Quinn. “Gods.” One of them said, covering up his nose. A few of them separated to search. A police officer came closer, flashlight falling on your face. Your eyes squinted from the light, shuddering from the cold. 

He reached for the walkie by his shoulder. “Hey, I’ve got Detective Y/l/n’s daughter here. She’s hurt. Call for an ambulance.” He called in. The officer was about to calmly approach you, when he got pushed aside by an eager youthling. “Y/n!” Ethan panted out, dropping to his knees beside you. Wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“Ethan…how…how are you here?” You asked with a shaky voice. “Quinn wasn’t answering her texts. I wanted to come check on her. I panicked when I saw the police outside.” He breathed out, tightening his grip around you. “Ethan…” You began, tugging at his shirt. “She…she’s…” Unable to get the words over your lips. “I…I know…” He responded, holding you close to his chest. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here…” He muttered out. The police officer wanted him to move so they could have a proper look at you. Ethan refused, remaining by your side. The police officers were waiting for more ambulances once they knew how many were injured. All gathered in the main room.

A blanket laying over Quinn to cover her up. Grabbing onto his shirt, you cried against his shoulder. Ethan shushing you soothingly. Lifting your head up, you wiped some tears away. “I thought I was going to die here…I am glad I am able to see you again.” You said between sobs. Ethan tilting his head a bit with slightly furrowed brows. 

“I don’t want to keep doing this back and forth thing anymore Ethan. I want you.” Giving his shirt another tug. “I like you Ethan… immensely.” Looking shyly away that you were confessing your love to him so easily.

The fear of never being able to tell him, might have caused your loose lips. Ethan curled up a smile. Brushing his thumb down your cheek, wiping the smear of blood off. “So do I.” He confessed. Cupping your cheek. Drawing you nearer. Lips touching for a moment. Letting it sink in, before devouring you with his hasty kiss. 

Ethan gave you one last kiss before you got shipped off in the ambulance to the hospital. Smiling faintly till the doors closed on him and he had no more eyes on you. Exhaling deep, he lowered his head. Pulling out his phone. Licking his lip before batting his gaze upwards. Knowing what had to be done, but hating it anyways. Knowing he’d be watched. To make sure it was done. 

The hospital felt cold and empty. The only comfort of the machines bleeping. Monitoring your heartbeat and oxygen level. Lifting your head up, you looked around. Nobody but yourself in darkness. The door a smidge open as light from the hallway fell inside. Barely reaching a decent length on the floor.

Turning your head at the sack of morphine that hung by your bed. Empty as the pain started to kick back in. Knowing you wouldn’t survive the rest of the night without pain medication, you pressed the red button. Waiting for the nurse on her nightshift to come. Patiently you waited. A few moments, turning into minutes, turning into seemingly a long time to respond. 

Leg already throbbing from the pain. Sweat forming on your brow and neck. Pressing the button desperately once more. “Nurse…” You called out. You hated calling out for her like that when it was her alone on this ward, but the pain was killing you. “Nurse…” Repeating a bit louder. “Nurse!” Shouting.

Feeling hot, you thought you might be burning up as well. Cursing that there came no response, you started pulling out things. Machine beeping with the loss of contact. Grabbing the pole firm, you swung your legs over the bed edge. 

Carefully standing on your good leg. Barely putting any pressure on your wounded leg. Limping forwards, with clenched teeth. Using your good leg and the pole as support. “Nurse…” You said again, slowly pushing the door more open. Looking left and right, there was no immediate sign of her.

Limping forward, you decided to go to the nurses office. A desk just up ahead. Panting loud, you limped with much effort further. “Nurse?” You spoke, seeing her not sit behind the desk. Moving a bit closer, you noticed her legs on the floor. Moving around rapidly, you stumbled back in shock at the blood. 

Her lifeless eyes staring forwards. Laying chest down in her own pool of blood. The sight made you scream loud. Lifting your gaze up, you screamed again. At the end of the hallway, he stood there once more. Dressed in black. The white of his mask reflects in the darkened part. Pantingly, you reached for the phone.

Picking up the horn, only to hear a beeping tone. Following the cord, you met up with a cut end. Dropping the horn, you grabbed the pole. Limping back, Ghostface on your tail. Gasping loud when the lights above your head started to flicker. 

Rushing yourself, you tumbled to the ground. Crying in pain for your stupid leg that wouldn’t work along. Gasping shockingly when Ghostface was slowly walking over. Pulling yourself up with every might, you bit through the pain.

His thundering footsteps, scaring you to the bone. You made your way back to your room, closing the door firmly behind you. Pulling a chair before it. Desperately you grabbed for your phone on the nightstand. Dialing but one number. Keeping the phone by your ear, waiting for him to pick up. 

Your breath shocked hearing a familiar ringtone just outside the door. Lowering your phone, you stared at the number you were calling. Ethan. The ringtone suddenly stopped. Mind spinning with a million thoughts, you dialled his number again. The same ringtone buzzing from just outside the door.

Shockingly, you dropped your phone. “Ethan!” You shouted loudly. There were thumps against your door, trying to get in. It took a few firm knocks into the door before the chair knocked over. Ghostface stumbling inside the room. Ghostface moved his hand to his mask, pulling it down. 

Confirming your suspicions. Fluttering your eyelashes, you didn’t want to cry at his betrayal. “You lied to me!” You said with a trembling lip. “I did…” Ethan answered, coming closer to you. “You tried to kill me.” You let out desperately, looking around for anything to defend yourself with. “I did…” Ethan responded, nearing more.

“You told me you loved me…” Sobbing loudly. Ethan came standing before you, holding your arms. “I do…” Whispering. Disgusted, you turned your face away from him. “Why?” You wanted to know. Ethan took your chin, shaking his head. Not wanting you to ask him that. 

Ethan shushed you, pressing his cheek against yours. Trying to comfort your sobs. “I love you Y/n, I truly do.” He said near your ear. “Ethan… are you going to kill me?” You asked with a frightened heart. Ethan cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears away. Shushing you soothingly. “No…no my love.” Wiping some wet strains of hair out of your face.

Brows furrowed, you gazed painfully back at him. “What about everyone else… all the other people?” You questioned in a husky voice. “They don’t get to choose.” Ethan responded, keeping his hand firm on the side of your neck. Bringing you closer to him. Lips in close proximity. “We do well together.” He whispered, hot breath on yours. 

With glossy eyes, you stared back at him. “I…love you…” You whispered. Feelings strong for him, you didn’t know anyone could harbour such strong love. Noses touched briefly. Ethan tilting his head ever so slightly. Mouth opening to kiss you. Lips brushing teasingly over each other.

Keeping them on each other for as long as possible. Opening your lips once more. “Hmph.” Carved deep within your throat into his mouth. Slowly pulling away from the kiss. Eyes fluttering open to look down. Breathing short, lifting your gaze back up to him. Staring with pained eyes at him. Ethan’s brows furrowed in distress. 

Breathing quicker. Your eyes not leaving his. Ethan guided you when your body moved backwards. Carefully laying you on the ground, hand underneath you. Short gaps coming from you. Trying to speak. A thin line of blood, slowly drawing down from the corner of your lips.

Breath shuddering, staring intensely up to him. A pool of blood reaching up to your shoulders. A line of blood rolling down your cheek from your nose. Ethan gasped in distress watching the life fade out of you. Lowering his head at the knife he had cut in you. Face contracting, sobbing quietly.

-----------------------------------------

Realization dawns on you quickly and you immediately turn and bolt down the hall. Tentacle Monster bf feels the thrill of the chase shoot down his spine and he snarls as he runs after you throughout the house.

Your body grows hot as you run from room to room. And it isn’t the exorcise but the arousal blossoming and coursing through your veins. Your core pulses with need as you loop around a bend, feeling your bf gaining speed and closing in on you. Letting out a fierce shriek you bolt into the living room. The chilling roar your bf releases as sparks shooting straight down to where you need him most. You don’t know what made your bf do this but god are you glad for it. You always fantasized about being chased but you didn’t know it would be this damn hot.

Just as you’re about to pass the couch, your bfs tentacle shoot out and curl around your ankles. You release a mix of a yelp and a moan as he forcefully swings you onto the couch, the furniture sliding back with the momentum. Tentacle Monster bf growls as he quickly mounts you, ducking his head close to your neck. Your holes clench around nothing as the Ghostface mask invades your space, terror and arousal building higher within in.

Tentacle Monster bf doesn’t say a word and it only makes everything that much more intense. All you can hear are his throaty growls and harsh breaths. More of his tentacle slip past the costume robe and up your legs. Before you can even adjust to the tantalizing sensation, your bf slams, not one, but two of his tentacles deep inside you with a solid stroke. A fierce scream echos off the walls, your back arching as he immediately begins pounding away at you.

Gasps and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably. You weakly try and meet his thrusts but it’s like something’s taken over him as your bf ruthlessly plunges his tentacles as deep inside you as they can go. Your eyes roll back as he keeps adding more, stretching you beyond the limits of what you thought you could take.

Tentacle Monster snarls at you as you keep trying to move. More of his tentacles whip out and wrap around your limbs, pinning them down on the couch. Forcing you to take what he gives you. And you love it. Your body in a constant stats of ecstasy. The never ending pleasure has you shaking as his merciless thrusts bring you closer to the edge.

He continues to pound away into your sloppy hole, the loud squelch of your bodies meeting only turns you on more. When you finally cum on his tentacles, clenching around him tightly, you swear for a moment you see white. A silent scream leaving you. And Tentacles Monster bf just keeps going, working you through one of the most intense orgasms of your life. He follows you in release after a few more erratic thrusts of his tentacles and you moan weakly as you feel them spurt his hot cum deep inside you.

His tentacles stay nestled in deep inside you as he collapses on your spent form. You reach up and carefully slip off his mask, warmth filling you as you can see his face again. Contentment washes over you both as the adrenaline of the chase begins to fade.

“I think I like this human tradition of dressing up in the costumes,” your bf rumbles, his tentacles twitching inside your hole, showing you just how much he likes it.

“what would your friends think if they saw you like this?” ghostface mumbles into your ear. you can barely hear him over the sounds of slapping skin and your own moans. he’s thrusting into you so hard that you’re jerked forward each time his hips meet your ass. if his bicep hadn’t been nestled directly against your throat, locking you in place, you’re sure you’d be knocking against the wall by now.

“don’t,” you whimper, eyes rolling after a rather deep thrust. his cock fills you so perfectly, and you know you should beg him to stop. but you couldn’t. not when he felt so fucking good, and definitely not when you were the one who provoked him.

that stupid phone call three weeks ago had fucked with your head so bad, that you ended up with a killer’s cock buried so deep inside your aching pussy that you weren’t sure how you’d ever allow another man to fuck you again. there was simply no way that any man could give you this much pleasure again unless it was him.

the hand that had been resting on your bare hip retracts, and he leans over your, reaching toward the nightstand to grab your phone. the angle pushes his dick deeper, causing you to cry out as tears prickle your eyes with how far he’s pushing into you. your mouth is wide open, and your eyes are lulling shut as the tip of his cock nudges against your g spot.

the masked man chuckles as you grasp at his arm around your throat, nails prickling his skin.

“gonna make me bleed? hm? we both know i’m better at it,” he grunts into your ear as he settles back into his earlier position, phone now directly in front of your face. you can’t be bothered to care anymore when the flash comes on because he’s jerked your hips back to switch angles again.

“let them know how good i’m ruining this innocent little cunt,” he groans, quickening his pace as he shoves the camera in your face. you’re too far gone to object, and he laughs at you for it.

moans and whimpers echo through the room. ghostface sets the camera up on your nightstand, giving the perfect view of him using you. you pry your eyes open to look back at his masked face, tears and drool wetting your face.

“mm, there she is,” he rumbles. his arm loosens around your neck.

“please. they can’t know,” you whimper, hoping the words don’t reach the mic on your phone.

“oh, that’s too bad. because everybody in this town is gonna watch you fall apart on my cock while you beg for more,” he threatens.

unfortunately for you, he’s not lying. his gloved hand reaches down to toy with your clit. that mixed with his raspy threats have you toppling over the edge within minutes.

“smile, darlin,” he whispers in your ear as your eyes roll while you cum on his cock. the video stops and he snaps a quick photo, the flash adding another dizzying sensation.

ghostface fills you with his cum, laughing darkly as he pulls out, leaving a trail of his release in his wake. he snaps another photo—this time of your used cunt— and let’s out a hum of approval.

Everything about this Tuesday night would’ve been normal, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Halloween.

On a weekday.

You loathed the idea, and after getting all of the partying out of your system over the weekend, dressing up and getting drunk again on a weekday just seemed like overkill.

…And yet here you are, sitting in your designated passenger seat in Rafe’s truck, your boyfriend behind the wheel and Topper sprawled out in the backseat.

You thought it quite eerie that Rafe wanted to dress up as Ghostface, knife and all, given it was the same mask the supposed serial killer was sporting.

But it seemed like everyone in Kildare found it amusing to wear the mask, hoping to scare their friends, or maybe fish for attention on social media.

Except for Topper, who had to go as a superhero instead, since Rafe didn’t want his best friend’s costume to match his girlfriend’s, too.

The white silk material stretched over your skin was just long enough to constitute as a dress. Rafe had used red paint to lay his own large handprints across your dress and skin, and even splattered and smeared some paint to look more like blood. Obviously, he was Ghostface and you were meant to be one of his victims. And Topper had decided to just reuse an old Spiderman costume.

The Thornton boy was sat in the middle,  legs spread wide as he enjoyed the entirety of the bench seat to himself.

“Man, I can’t wait for tonight. It’s gonna be fucking lit,”

You didn’t have to look back at Rafe’s friend as he spoke, as you had a perfect view of his face in the rearview mirror.

And you saw him sealing a joint with his saliva, smoothing it over with his fingers before he brought it to his lips.

“Y’know, I don’t even know why we’re going out when there’s a literal fucking psycho serial killer on the loose. Why can’t we just-,”

The smell of the weed hit your nose before the actual smoke made it to the front seat.

You fanned your hand in front of you face, immediately cutting yourself off with a scoff before darting a hand to the door, eager to roll down the window.

“Whatever, dude’s a fucking joke. He’s only killed two people and its alreadyHalloween. Takes 3 to be a serial killer. What a fucking loser- Y/N!” Topper scolded, his tone immediately catching the attention of Rafe, who narrowed his eyes in the rearview mirror as he waited for his friend to justify his tone with you.

Topper’s outburst also saved you from seeing the way Rafe’s skin pulled tightly over his knuckles, curling harder around the steering wheel.

“You can’t just break the hotbox before we even start smoking! I haven’t even taken a real hit yet!” Topper scolded.

You folded your arms across your chest, turning to raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend in response.

Topper mimicked your facial expression, also shifting so he was facing Rafe now, too, the both of you waiting idly to see who he would side with.

The kook’s eyes flitted between the two of you, his gaze finally settling on you before he cleared his throat to say, “Baby, come on, he just lit the joint.”

Your jaw dropped, brows knitting together in disbelief as the car continued down the road.

“Seriously, Rafe?!” You were sure you sounded extra bratty, and maybe you were for forcing the boys to lose half of their high to the wind right off the bat. Still, you continued anyway. “You know I don’t like the smell of that shit.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, sighing loudly to cue you in on his frustration. 

“You’re around it all the time! You literally smoke with me,” He countered, large fingers encompassing the panel on his door that controlled all of the windows.

And he wasn’t lying. You did smoke with him, you’d at least hit a joint once a day, because Rafe would always offer. More than that, he would insist.

But still, you prefered to smoke outside, in the open air, where circulation wasn’t an issue.

Your eyes jumped to the glass beside you as it began ascending back up, then back to the boy in the driver’s seat.

“Baby, calm down,” he criticized, “I wanna hit it a couple times at least without the fucking wind blowing everwyhere. You know it’s not the same, now,” 

He stopped, eyes narrowing at you when you crossed one leg over another, head shooting forward, like suddenly anything outside of the windshield was more interesting than this conversation.

Rafe responded by slapping a hand over your thigh, squeezing just enough to pull your attention and your eyes back to him.

“Don’t be a brat,” His words came out at the same time that Topper went into a coughing fit in the backseat, thick smoke billowing over the middle console and filling the truck. Your eyes dropped at the feel of something brushing against your arm, and you looked down to see Rafe’s other hand abdandoning the wheel to extend the joint your direction. He nudged your arm, encouraging you to take it from him.

“Rafe, I don’t wanna smoke right now.” Your protest had him curling his fingers further around your leg. It was a silent way of telling you he wasn’t asking, the motivation you needed to pinch the paper between your index and thumb, taking it into your posession.

You hesitated, taking a deep breath in and out again before bringing the joint to your lips.

You pulled the smoke into your mouth, something Rafe had taught you to do rather than totally inhaling it. The vapor whirled around your tongue, and you puffed your cheeks enough to push the smoke out between your puckered lips, before just as quickly drawling it back in with a sharp inhale.

“Show off,” Topper scoffed from the backseat and you laughed, already feeling less edgy after a single hit. Just the act of straining the smoke from a blunt could put you at ease, even if the environment wasn’t ideal.

And speaking of ideal environments, you really weren’t looking forward to the one you were currently headed to.

Olivia was a kook, and the current apple of Topper’s eye, so naturally, he forced his best friend to tag along to her Halloween party with him, which meant you would surely be coming, too. You knew Rafe wouldn’t want to go third wheel Topper without you, and he knew you also wouldn’t let him go without you, anyway.

He definitely wasn’t going to let you stay home, either.

Rafe absolutely hated the thought of his girl being alone anywhere, but especially at home, at night.

And with a crazy serial killer seemingly terrorizing the small town of Kildare as of late, the hatred for leaving you alone was amplified. He would hardly let you out of his sight, more than usual.

He drove you to and from your classes, work, and anywhere in between. He was constantly berating you with phone calls, texts, all endearing and pure-intentioned, but overwhelming, none the less.

Which is why you struggled to understand why he would want to go out on a Tuesday, especially when the other murders both took place on a weekday, too.

Nevertheless, the car eventually came to a stop outside of the mansion, and the three of you sauntered in, and you hoped you’d somehow be able to make the best of the night.

—

You’d already made two trips to the jungle juice cooler by the time Topper came barreling towards you and your boyfriend.

“Rafe!” He called to his friend, but both of your heads turned.

He stopped himself with a hand on Rafe’s shoulder before asking, “You got any blow? Kelce just ran out,” He jammed his thumb behind him, motioning to the sea of kooks that were now in need of a backup supply of cocaine.

“Uh…” Rafe only patted his pockets once or twice before baring the bad news.

“Nah man, nah I don’t,”

He was able to come up with a solution pretty quickly, though.

“I can run and grab some though, be back in like…” his words trailed off as he checked his watch, “20?”

Topper’s smile was back, big as ever as he nodded, patting Rafe on the back before turning to spread the word.

Normally, you would’ve rolled your eyes, scolded your boyfriend for messing with cocaine, let alone making a business out of it.

But as Rafe smiled at the back of his friend’s head while Topper whisked himself back into the drunken mob, you silently thanked the higher powers that be for the opportunity to break away from the crowded house.

Granted, a trip to Barry’s, where Rafe was undoubtedly headed wasn’t any betterpersay, but you hadn’t even wanted to go to the party in the first place. At least you had the option to go here.

Or so you thought.

Until you went to follow Rafe, and he turned to stop you when he felt your hand brush over his arm.

“Uh uh,” he had you by your arms, not in a tight grip, but strong enough to move your body around so you were no longer beside him, but behind him as he turned to face you, “You gotta stay here, baby. I’m not bringing you to the Cut. Not tonight.”

Even after three cups, you were more than coherent enough to know you didn’t want your boyfriend to leave your side.

Your lips parted, brows pulled together in a look of both confusion and frustration as you pulled his mask off, ignoring his surprised look and dishevelled hair as you scolded, “So you’re just gonna leave me here?!” You crossed one arm over one another in front of your chest.

Rafe tried to ignore the way the gesture pushed your tits up and together even more than the tight dress already did.

“With a fucking serial killer on the loose? Really?” You shook your head, throwing your arms down before attempting to storm past him while protesting, “No. No way, I’m not fucking staying here-!”

“Hey!” Rafe gained a stronger grip on your arm now, pulling you back and holding you to him with one hand. Your eyes darted from where he held you, up to his eyes, which were hard and serious.

“No one is gonna get you in here, baby, okay? Okay there’s, there’s too many people,” his fingers loosened, moving instead to smooth over your arm as his other hand followed suit. The gesture was meant to calm you down, a physical way of convincingyou to listen to him, in a way he could tell his words couldn’t.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just-just stay here with-with Top, yeah? Stay here with Top, I’m gonna run and I’ll be back real soon, alright?” 

You fixed a stern pout on your lips, and Rafe rolled his eyes at the sight.

“My costume doesn’t even make sense if you’re not with me.” Again, you folded your arms across your chest. Sometimes, the pout and folded arms combo was enough to make Rafe given into whatever you were asking for…

But not this time.

Rafe simply grabbed the mask from you, tucking it under his arm.

“Stay with Top, Y/N, okay?” Was all he said before he took you by your jaw, eagerly pulling you in for a sloppy, wet kiss. Your tongues swirled around each other before Rafe’s assumed dominance, as did his hands as they trailed down your body, stopping at the curve of your hips. One continued further, cupping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze.

The makeout faded to simple pecks, and then one last one before Rafe was pulling away, only a string of saliva and his hands in yours left to connect the two of you.

“Hurry up.” You ordered as you pulled your bottom lip inbetween your teeth, and Rafe couldn’t resist giving you one last kiss before he pulled his mask back down, squeezing your hands before disappearing towards the door.

You sighed as you spun around, eyes scanning over the party before you let out a long sigh.

The sight of some random girls pouring shots in the corner reminded you of the flask you’d brought with you. You brandished the metal container from your purse, giving it a slight shake.

You figured the 40 proof tequila could do something to make that jungle juice more interesting.

—

Outside, Rafe was ripping his mask back off, making his way out to his truck.

He had the plastic machete in his grip, fists clenching as he neared the vehicle.

The door was flung open with his free hand, and he climbed inside, hands dropping the accessory and reaching for the glovebox before he even shut the door.

Rafe fished out a tiny plastic baggy, large fingers ripping it open and dumping the contents out onto the dash.

He manuevered the powder into a line as best he could with his index finger. The excess powder was wiped on his bottom gum line before rounding his back, plugging one side of his nose as he brought it down to the leather surface, inhaling sharply.

The cocaine burned his nostril as it traveled to his brain, which was riddled with thoughts that were anything but normal.

The boy wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this…predicament.

Truthfully, Rafe wouldn’t have left you at some party by yourself with the threat of a serial killer looming if he’d planned to go far. But Rafe’s car wouldn’t be leaving its spot, because he wasn’t going to the Cut.

And you didn’t need to worry about some deranged killer, because you were exempt from the list of possible targets…

Rafe had only planned to use the mask the first time to terrorize some pogues one night, solely as a joke.

But when one of them got too scared and swung on him, that’s all it took to flip his switch. He returned the punch the pogue had wagered ten-fold, and then some, laying into the poor boy until he had no strength to fight back, and his friends had long retreated. That’s when Rafe fished for his machete, teeth gritted, jaw clenched and muscles flexed as he brought the knife to the boy’s throat.

He didn’t even have the strength to whimper or beg for his life before the skin was so smoothly slit, leaving him to choke in a pool of his own blood for daring to charge at someone like Rafe.

And in that moment, as he watched the light slowly drain from the boy’s eyes below him, Rafe felt an overwhelming sense of power and authority that he’d never felt before.

He’d always had to fight for the upper hand with his dad, with his sisters, with Rose. But he’d just easily been able to claim it this way.

He felt as big and as powerful as a God, after all, he had just played one, taking the life of the innocent pogue boy.

The second kill was planned, but in Rafe’s defense, he’d never had a specific person in mind.

He just knew the craving for the power he’d wielded was too strong of an urge to deny, and he needed to find an outlet somehow.

And this pogue walked right into his trap. Rafe had tossed a hundred dollar bill down right outside of an alley he was hiding in. It was dark and late, so not many people were out.

Except for one unfortunate soul, who happened to be walking home from a closing shift when their luck turned around, the reflectors on the blue $100 bill catching their attention on their stroll.

They’d just picked it up, only had it in their possession for a few moments before being grabbed and dragged back into the alley, a knife to their throat forcing their hands to release the money.

And that was it.

Like the first time, Rafe hadn’t planned on killing anyone tonight. He wanted to enjoy his evening with you and his friends, hopefully get his mind off of the heinous acts he’d committed that were cirulating in the media.

But his mind just couldn’t stop jumping back to Topper’s blind criticism in the car, and the thought had boiled his anger over into the red zone, and his hands fishing in the middle console for his real knife.

“He’s only killed 2 people. Takes 3 to be a serial killer.”

And his friend was right.

Rafe wasn’t one yet.

But he would be after tonight.

—

Back at the party, your flask was no more, and your solo cup was empty for the 5th time now.

You weren’t sure how you were still willing yourself to stand around the pong table, watching as Topper and Kelce killed time waiting for their next fix, both boys constantly darting their eyes back and forth from the cups to the front door.

When the Thornton boy started re-racking the red cups for a fourth game in a row, you decided it was time to go explore the party on your own.

You weren’t entirely sure Rafe would approve, but you’d also downed one too many drinks to care.

Wandering off from the familiar kooks, you sifted your way through the house before your eyes fell on the stairs after some time, locking in on the tall, muscular looking Ghostface propped against the banister, waving you over with a single hand.

All of your facial features perked up in unison, a sensual smile tugging at your lips as your boyfriend invited you to follow him upstairs.

You didn’t have it in you to move with any type of determination, lazily staggering over to the staircase, clutching onto any piece of furniture or wall you could get your hands on on your way over.

When you finally reached your boyfriend, he stumbled back as you threw yourself into his arms, having consumed enough alcohol to bring out the more playful, flirty side of you.

“Babyy,” your words were slurred as you held onto his shirt and shoulder for support, “what took you so long?”

Your hand ventured out to rid him of his mask, but he made a quick point to hold it in place, keeping his face covered.

“Rafe, stop it, I wanna see youu,” you whined, pouting when he only responded by slapping your hand away lightly.

In your inebriated state, you didn’t realize that it hadn’t even been long enough for Rafe to return yet. You were just excited to see who you drunkenly assumed was your boyfriend, and even more excited to sneak away from the party with him for a little.

The figure held you close to them with a strong grip, and the way his bicep curled perfectly around your waist just reminded you so much of Rafe. His cologne even smelled similar, the wafts hitting your nose easily as your face was planted against his chest while he guided you up the stairs.

He took it slow, giving you time to drag your feet up each step. But once you reached the landing, you had to pick up your pace as to not fall over as he practically dragged you down the hall.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the enthusiasm he had to get you all alone.

And the first room he came across was sufficient apparently, because he was quickly pushing the door open and shoving you inside.

He must not have considered how drunk you were when he pushed you, the action causing you to trip over your feet, collasping in a heap to the carpet.

Your knees broke your fall, and when you tried to resituate yourself on your feet so you could reach his lips for a kiss, a strong hand on your shoulder grounded you to the floor. Now, you were on your knees, back to the door while he stood tall facing the entrance, shoulders rolled back as he wrestled to part his costume.

Your eyes trailed up the powerfully built man before you, stopping at his crotch at your eye level, then continuing up to reach the white mask.

Large hands fumbled with his belt in front of your face. For a split second, you wondered if you’d ever seen this one of his or not, but the thought was gone as quick as it came, and a wolfish grin spread across your face.

As much as you wanted him to take you right off the bat, you also loved getting him off, letting him use you for his own pleasure, and something about his costume had your stomach stirring.

Your hands slipped up under his costume, manicured nails trailing ever so slightly over his toned stomach, and you could feel him flinch slightly from the sensation.

You smirked up at him, eyes wide and wanting as you waited for the sound of his pants dropping to cue you to get to work.

Instead, the sound of the door creaking open registered too late in your brain. You didn’t even have time to jump to a more decent looking position before heavy footsteps filled your ears.

You flinched violently, cowering down and covering your head with your arms when the man in front of you was suddenly yanked forward, his figure dragged right over yours by the stranger.

“Hey!” You shouted, the liquid courage motivating you to stand up for your boyfriend. “Who the fuck do you think you’re-“

Your words died in your throat as you whirled around on your knees, coming face to face with another Ghostface.

You were sure you’d never screamed so loud in your life, albeit drowned out from the loud speakers blasting some EDM remix downstairs.

Your hands flew to cover your mouth when you saw the knife penetrating your boyfriends skin, blood immediately spilling out of the fresh wounds. Frantically, you crawled away on your knees, though most of your brain went into self preservation mode, convincing you that the scene before you couldn’t possibly be real.

But it was real enough to send Rafe plummeting to the ground as the masked intruder continued slashing into him, tearing through his muscles and organs.

You’d been in such an extreme state of shock and denial that your brain hadn’t even told your feet to move the entire time.

So when the monster that just murdered your boyfriend turned to set his sights on you, you were completely frozen in place.

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up and yanking you into him, the blood of your boyfriend coating your skin, and that’s when the first tears started to spill.

The grip he gained on you forced a startled scream from your lips, which was quickly muffled by a bloody hand.

You almost gagged at the smell and taste and iron seeping onto your tongue, eyes squeezed shut as you struggled against the stranger at your back.

You were clawing at his arm at this point, even trying to kick your feet back into his legs, anything to prompt him to let you go. To spare your life.

But your struggle came to an abrupt stop when you felt the cold, slick metal blade pressing into your throat.

You drew your shaky hands up immediately, body trembling as you feared meeting the same fate as your boyfriend at the hand’s of a masked stranger.

It was only a few moments after his hand released its hold on your lips that you inhaled sharply, drawing in another smell this time.

The signature Dior cologne was one you’d only ever known one person to wear. It was like a magnet, the smell could hit your nose and take you straight to your boyfriend.

And that’s when you realized that the cologne on man you wandered up here with, was slightly off, not quite the same trademark one your boyfriend loved.

You stumbled forward as the masked man’s grip on you relinquished, taking a moment to calm your senses before slowly turning to face him.

His head tilted eerily to the side as you reached out, trying to steady your arm as your fingers plucked at the plastic facade.

Your movements were careful and calculated, even as you began to lift the mask over the figure’s head.

The removal of the disguise revealed that the man who’d just taken a life, who’d just pressed a knife to your throat, wasn’t a stranger at all.

“R-Rafe?” Your brain struggled to comprehend how in the world your boyfriend could possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, after you’d just watched someone pull him off of you and gut him like a fish.

“H-how…how are you-?”

“Shh, shh,” You only caught a quick glimpse of the smirk on his face before Rafe used one hand to tug the mask back down, the other pressing into your stomach, urging you to shuffle backwards.

You were so relieved to see that your boyfriend was alive that you didn’t even register the anger radiating off of him.

And his rage wasn’t only directed at the guy you were with.

Of course not, he was dead.

Instead, he focused his attention on you.

Your hands shot up to clasp over Rafe’s wrist as rough fingers enveloped your throat, halting the cycling of air to your lungs.

He looked…scary. Even with the mask and the dark cloak-like clothing he wore, you could still see his shoulders looking twice as broad, chest puffed out, muscles undoubtedly flexed hard underneath the costume.

It was difficult to make out the blood on his black clothes, but you didn’t miss the splatters of it on the white mask.

The way his knuckles stretched hard over the knife in his hand, clutching it like a lifeline, should’ve been enough to scare you.

Actually, the fact that you were only steps away from a dead body, the result of your boyfriend, should’ve been enough.

The same man who brought you feelings of comfort, safety, had just been revealed to be everything he always vowed to protect you from.

You should’ve been terrified. You should’ve been scrambling to the door, making a run for the hills for fear of losing your life.

But as your eyes raked over the man before you, the feeling of fear struggled to override the feeling of lust brewing inside of you.

Of course, you were sure you’d make your disapproval known later about Rafe lying to you, pranking you, being a literal serial killer behind your back.

But right now, something about your boyfriend being so enamored with you, so vigilant and protective over you that he would literally kill for you, risk his life, his freedom for you, had your stomach in knots.

Rafe studied your face, his breathing heavy as he watched your expression gradually morph from one of apprehension and dismay, to one of…sensuality? Surely, he couldn’t be reading you right.

His head tilted to the side in a menacing manner as he asked, “You’re not scared?”

You hesitated, but shook your head.

You weren’t scared of Rafe. In fact, you were turned on. You pressed your legs together, desperate to alleviate the empty feeling down there.

You couldn’t see it, but Rafe’s gaze fell down to your lap, taking note of the way you clamped your thighs shut.

He raised an eyebrow, though the gesture was hidden from you, too.

He rolled his head around his shoulders, stretching it out before a low chuckle left his lips.

“Well you should be.”

All at once, Rafe’s fingers wound tightly in your hair, using the tight grip to shove you into the wall.

You pressed your hands flat out on the surface you were forced up against, mouth dropping as your breath hitched in your throat.

Rafe’s lips immediately latched onto your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he hungrily sucked and nipped at the sensitive flesh, desperate to mark you as his.

He only stopped to pull you into him slightly so he could give the neckline of your dress a harsh tug. The gesture freed your tits, soft and supple as Rafe fondled them from behind with both hands, pulling and tweaking at your nipples.

Once the sensitive buds had hardened under his touch, Rafe shoved you forward into the wall again, the cold sensation on your chest sending chills down your spine.

You’d yet to try to make any noise since Rafe introduced you to the wall, until you found him forcing your legs apart with his knee, his hand swiftly and suddenly snaking between your thighs, fingers trailing up the warm skin.

His digits prodded at your thong, the only thing you bothered to wear under the skimpy dress.

You couldn’t help the pained moan that escaped your lips as Rafe tugged the thin material to the side, giving him the opportunity to plunge three thick digits deep inside of you.

Any other time, he would’ve started with just one or two fingers, giving you time to open up and adjust to him.

But Rafe was far past being gentle with you, or with anyone, clearly…

The fact that you’d drunkenly mistaken some knockoff Ghostface for him, both amused and angered the oldest Cameron.

“Rafe!” You cried out, nails scraping at the wall you were held against. “I-I…it hurts,”

“Well that’s too fucking bad, hmm Y/N?” His voice was taunting as he curled the digits up into you, roughly massaging your g-spot skillfully with the pads of his fingers.

You were relieved only for a moment when Rafe eventually withdrew his hands from your body, using them instead to wrestle with his pants underneath his costume.

He gained a harsh grip on your throat, squeezing mercilessly and easing your head back onto his chest. “You don’t call me Rafe tonight,” he brushed some hair out of your face with his other hand as you heard his pants sink to the floor, “it’s Ghostface, sweetheart.”

There was no time to react or respond before Rafe lined himself up with your dripping entrance, sheathing himself between your slick folds in one sharp, agonizing thrust.

With Rafe pressing one side of your face against the wall, the other hand wound tightly in your hair, your cries and pleads were muffled.

The pleasure you felt from the way Rafe’s cock cunningly stroked your walls, the way this possessive and hostile side had came out, your brain never stood a chance.

It was immediately short-circuting at the overstimulation you were feeling, from the harsh hold on your hair, the relentless, deep thrusts to your core, the burning in your stomach from the alcohol to the mixture of smells that permeated the room now.

You struggled to hold yourself up, legs shaking violently as your boyfriend continued rutting into you to no avail.

Everything was overwhelming you, and it was all enough to have you forgetting how you even got to this strange room in the first place, and what happened to the boy that had lead you up here.

But Rafe wouldn’t let you forget.

He used the grip on your hair to yank your head to the side, forcing your gaze to fall on the body of the boy you’d mistaken for him earlier.

“Look at him,” he ordered, fingers scratching at your scalp as he tightened his grip.

“You won’t ever confuse me for somebody else again after this, right?”

You only cried out in response, tears spilling down your face as you shook your head vigorously.

“N-no! No, Rafe, I won’t do it again!”

Your cries were muffled when Rafe yanked your head around the other way, this time to crane your neck back towards him instead.

“What was that?” He sneered down at you.

“No Ghostface, I won’t do it again, I p-promise!”

He released his hold in satisfaction, attention shifting back to the place where your two bodies connected, jaw falling slack at the sight of him rutting into you, hips snapping against yours in a harsh and hungry manner.

His nails dug into curve of your hips, hands helping to arch your back off of the wall, allowing him extra space to drive into the mess he’d made of your core.

“Fuck, baby…” The desperation and breathlessness behind his tone had your clenching around him, and you cried out at a particularly rough thrust against your cervix.

“Ra-,” you corrected your own near-mistake, “Ghostface, please I-I can’t-!”

“Shut up,” Rafe seethed in your ear, pressing his body harder against yours and forcing you impossibly further into the wall.

“I don’t wanna hear you talk,” he groaned out, tossing his head back in pleasure at the feel of your soaked walls sucking him in blissfully. “Just need you to fucking take this cock, yeah? The right one, this time.”

But you couldn’t help but let out another high-pitched mewl at the brutal pace Rafe was subjecting you to.

And your cries only upset him further. You shouldn’t be the one crying, he thought. He rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek just thinking about it.

He was the one who’d walked in on his girlfriend about to go down on some random fucking kook.

The idea only further fueled his anger.

Which in turn fueled his movements, thrusts somehow becoming more aggressive as he reached behind him.

Your body jolted forward when the cold blade was pressed against your neck again, careful though as to not nick your skin. Your gasp mixed with the sounds of skin slapping together.

“Didn’t I just tell you to be quiet?”

Rafe didn’t miss the way your walls pulsated around him once, twice, too many timesto count.

A look of amusement washed over his concealed face as he realized he’d held a knifeto your throat, and you…liked it.

The comprehension opened a new door of interest for the oldest Cameron.

As a test, he pressed the blade slightly harder into your skin, and a low groan escaped his parted lips when you mewled out, again, clenching around his shaft.

“Fuck baby…” he leaned in closer, wet lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t tell me you like that?” He spoke, though that’s exactly what he hoped she would confirm.

“I-I,” you struggled to find words to express the pure euphoria you were feeling. 

“You like my knife, baby?”

“Y-yes Ghostface,”

“Yeah?” He rasped, this time trailing the tip of the blade cautiously down between your tits, skimming over your stomach and stopping just before it met the place where your bodies joined.

“You like that?” He confirmed, eyes admiring the trail of crimson that now lined your supple skin.

He swore he could almost feel his dick growing impossibly harder, stomach tightening as he upped his stamina.

His eyes fell shut, head falling back between his shoulders as he grunted out loudly, “Say my name, Y/N…”

“Ghostface!” You practically screamed out the name as his thrusts picked up.

Your obdience and compliance with his request sent him over the edge, hands gripping you tight as he shot hot, sticky loads deep up into you.

Your pussy clenched tightly around him, pulsating as you also found your release, stars clouding your vision as your ears rang incessantly.

You could feel Rafe’s thrusts growing sloppier, stamina dying down as he began slowing the movement of his hips, eventually coming to a complete stop inside of you.

When Rafe drew his hips back, his cock unsheathed itself with a pop, and your legs were so weak, you were sure you would’ve collasped right on the spot if it wasn’t for Rafe’s hold on you.

He kept your pressed against the wall for a moment, allowing the full weight of his body to press into yours as he struggled to catch his breath, breathing and grunting heavily in your ear.

He’d already exerted a good amount of energy stabbing someone, and then to fuck you so passionately and viciously, forced him to summon even more.

You were a sobbing, dishevelled mess when you were finally able to draw in a sufficient breath, Rafe finally pushing himself off of the wall and allowing you to do the same.

There was a tension in the air now as Rafe pulled his pants back up, concealing the knife in the waistband before securing his belt again.

You stood frozen the whole time, trying to both regain your senses that had been clouded with lost, and wrap your head around the fact that you’d just let your boyfriend fuck you with a dead body only mere feet away.

You frowned slightly at the thought of the strangers blood being on your hands, metaphorically.

Rafe quickly caught onto your lack of care for redressing yourself, icy blue eyes tracking your line of sight to the pools of blood on the carpet, and the imitation of him laying lifeless in it.

He sighed loudly, hands reaching out for you and pulling the top of your dress back up over your tits, then stretching the bottom back down over your ass.

“Don’t feel sorry for him, Y/N,” he started, hands reaching up to smooth over and fix your disorderly hair.

“He knew what he was doing.”

And it was true.

Everyone knew you belonged to Rafe. There was no one, especially on this side of the island, that hasn’t heard of or seen the two of you around. You were the ‘it couple’ in the kook kingdom, and you surmised that Rafe was right, the boy probably knew what he was doing when he lured you upstairs in your drunken state.

He just didn’t know it would be the worst mistake he could make for himself, the last thing he would ever do.

“Now you know the lengths I would go to to protect you.”

His lips on your forehead surprised you, and you looked up at your boyfriend with tears still in your eyes.

Rafe took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and planting a haphazard kiss to your plump lips.

“And Topper’s lucky he’s my fucking friend, or I’d kill him next for letting you out of his sight.”

a/n — ok its bugging me I FORGOT TO WRITE A WHOLE SCENE OMG…….