could you please do ghostface rafe🥹😛 love ur writing queen 💓
i love this sm!! Thank you sm!! For the request aswell!❤️
│Wanna make a movie?
-Ghostface!Rafe x reader
-warnings: veryyy dark!Rafe, masturbation (f),degradation,a lil smut, p in v, hair pulling, rough sex, knifeplay, kinda cnc, exhibitionism ( picture taking)
You were laying in your bed, red led light lights on, vibrator in, muted comedy show in the background, just the faint buzz of the plug and heavy breathing filling your empty bedroom. You grab the remote, going a level higher just above the middle, you hiss, the vibration sending shocks through your entire body, just a little bit more-
The loud noise of a call interrupts, making you jump. You scoff, grabbing your phone, looking at the screen, a No caller ID. You roll your eyes, it was halloween night and these types of pranks were common, you get up, sitting at the edge of your bed, feet dangling on the corner. You lower your vibrator power and decide to accept the mysterious, wanting to give a show to whoever is pranking you, we all have prank called for memories anyway.
"Hello?" You say in an annoyed tone, running a hand through your freshly washed hair. A voice with an obvious changer calls your name on the other line. "Yes?" You respond, elongating the word as you answer, realizing this is one of your friends if they know your name, probably from the party you were supposed to attend.
"Whats your favorite horror movie?" The voice at the other line asks and you cant help but laugh, actually laugh, no way this is happening to you right now.
"I dont know, how about we make a movie mr ghostface?" You tease, giggling at how silly this whole thing is.
"The only thing thats going to be inside you is my knife through your fucking guts." The other voice snaps, you go silent, rolling your eyes, what a way to ruin the fun.
"Whoever this is, you're drunk, have fun at the party though!" You say, closing the call and throwing the phone somewhere behind you, you getting ready to go back to finish your job, when almost immediately another call rings. You bring your hand back to grab your phone and accept it for some reason, the same voice talking as soon as you pick up.
"Listen here you bitch, if you hang up on me again ill gut you like a fish, understand?" The mysterious spits out and you decline again, going through your phone and turning the silencing unknown callers option. You roll your eyes, the whole mood you set up ruined by a stupid drunk person.
A hand reaches at your neck, pointing a knife, holding your head with their other hand, you freeze, eyes going wide as you slowly bring your head up, to look at who it is and to no surprise, someone with a ghostface mask, you can tell the knife isn't fake. You swallow, breathing hard as the person above you tilts his head, trailing the knife down your neck as he speaks up.
"Told you to not hang up." That voice, you get lost in your thoughts, where have you heard it before? "Rafe..?" you call out and he immediately holds you tighter, moving his knife holding hand to turn you around and pin you to your bed. You couldn't think, Rafe Cameron here, dressed as a killer, holding you down with a knife and the cherry on the top, you forgot to fucking take out your vibrator. You both stand quiet, he was about to speak up, but the light buzz coming from between you was very noticeable. "What the hell is that?" he mummers, looking around the room, then turning to you for a response, you avoid his gaze, turning your head to the side, one sharp movement can kill you. He clicks his tongue, displeased with your silence, he wraps his hand around your wrist, the one that just so happened to have the remote under, the rapid movement pressed perfectly to raise the power by two levels, making you clamp your thighs and bite your lip to lock the moan threatening to spill from your lips.
He noticed the buzzing getting louder, the way your thighs brush around each other, how your eyebrows furrow and your raw bitten lip. He starts laughing like a maniac and you're scared as shit, but in the back of your mind you want his help so bad right now. "Well, shit. I came here to start a massacre, but guess you really did want a movie." he whispers, leaning over your ear. Your stomach flips, you cant help it, you were pulsating by this point, thighs still rubbing against each other, wanting to chase some friction. He hovers over your face, hands reaching under your pants, pulling the vibrator out, holding it in front of his face to observe before he throws it away somewhere. You whine at the lost sensation, your orgasm being just seconds close. He grabs your jaw roughly, tracing your lip with his thumb, your mouth opening subconsciously, pushing in his finger when you do, you suck on it, looking straight at where you think his eyes are, leaving his finger seconds later with a string of saliva.
He grabs you, throwing you on your stomach, bringing you ass up to hang in the air as he pins you down, pressing on your shoulder. "Please, Rafe." You beg practically to a wall, feeling a hand leaving your hip and hearing ruffling of clothes before hitting the ground. He move the hand on your shoulder higher, grabbing your hair and lifting you on your fours, leaning down to your ear, feeling his hard clothed bulge press against your ass. "Yeah? That's why you teasin' me, playing with yourself, telling me you wanna fuck me? Please what? You don't even want me to stop, don't you? " Your silent, mind wandering in too many places, unsure what to do or think. "That's what i thought, I'm going to fucking ruin you, make you my pretty little fuckdoll, use this slutty pussy till i fucking say so." He adds on, slapping the skin on your ass, bringing the knife on your cheekbone. "Or else.." He warns, sliding the sharp point of your knife along your face, one press away to ruin your pretty face.
...
The headboard bangs to the wall, enough to leave a hole by now. He grabs your hips, moving them roughly in a pace that makes your orgasm come effortlessly, eyes hitting the back of your head, voice strained by now, throat hurting if you let out another moan. He angles his hips, fucking you through it, chasing his own release. Lewd noises fill the room as you squirm under his firm grip, face shoved in your pillow, as your moans get muffled. You couldn't anymore, praying he's tired by now, passing through different positions for hours by now, your legs completely sore, your throbbing pussy numb and sensitive to any touch. He releases his load in a deep, hard thrust, slamming your body forwards as he groans, lifting his mask to wipe the sweat on his forehead before adjusting it back to his head again.
Heavy breathing and the smell of sex fill the room and he pulls out halfway, silent as you hear him rummage through something. You feel a hand tug at your hair, and in a quick motion a flash bursting through the red lit room. He captures the whole moment, him behind you, still inside, your ruined face, mascara running through your eyes, spit and cum out of your mouth, hair a frizzy mess and a noticeable bite mark and hickey on your shoulder. He drops your head, pulling out of you in a quick motion. You hiss at the emptiness, deciding to lay on your bed to regain your senses and think about everything that just happened. You feel a cool air hit you and you hiss, deciding to turn around, finding your bedroom empty and your window cracked open.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Kinks: Knife Play | Fear Play | Ownership | Praise | Impact Play
❕DO NOT CONTINUE WITHOUT READING THE CONTENT WARNINGS - contains spoilers❕
dark material ahead +18 minor dni
volume 1 - 4.1K of 16.6K words
It’s been a year. That secret still sits heavy on your chest—that and Rafe Cameron himself—impossible to read, impossible to forget. The glances that lasted too long. The private smirks. You saw them all.
You watched him watch you—the way his blue eyes held on you, begging for you.
He played his part, moving through the frat house like he always did, women draped across his arms like accessories. But it was all performance. His hands never lingered. His smile never softened like it did with you.
But how could you miss him—the man who might’ve killed all those people? A murderer? You never asked. Maybe you didn’t want to.
Maybe he liked that about you—the quiet loyalty, the way you carried what neither of you would say. Like your silence alone made you his.
Sometimes you wondered if he’d chosen you for that reason—if he saw the darkness in you and called it home. His perfect match. A killer’s dream girl.
The fear sat in your chest right beside the want and the ache.
The thought of ending things with JJ, of him digging into Rafe’s past out of spite made your stomach twist. What would he find if he looked too close? Would he question what you kept buried?
Summer tried to make you forget him but it didn’t. You dreamed of him too vividly—his voice a low drawl in your ear, saying your name like he’d been holding it back for years. The way his body moved with yours. The way he kissed you with a hunger that left you craving more.
And just when you thought you’d read him all wrong, he reminded you you hadn’t.
📱Rafe Cameron: i miss you
📱Rafe Cameron: tell me you miss me
📱Rafe Cameron: ive been thinking about you
You told yourself you were done with him. That whatever happened last year should stay buried. But that first frat party of the year—God, you should’ve known better.
He saw you the second you walked in, JJ’s arm looped tight around your waist like a warning to everyone else. Rafe didn’t move, didn’t speak—just watched you from across the room with that stare that always burned a little too long.
You told JJ you needed a minute and slipped away, heart pounding as you searched for Rafe.
But when you found him, his mouth was already on someone else’s.
Some faceless girl in a lace top, with her hands in his hair, and his body pressed close. You turned before he saw you watching, forcing your legs to move away even though you wanted to make a scene and let him know you were watching.
But why would JJ Maybank’s girl give a shit, right? He didn't belong to you. You made it outside before the tears did, and your phone buzzed.
📱Rafe Cameron: why'd you leave?
📱Your Name: you looked busy
📱Rafe Cameron: busy?? you're joking that meant nothing.
📱Your Name: doesn’t matter if it meant something Rafe. whatever this was it’s done.
Three dots appeared, then disappeared, popping up again before vanishing as tears pooled in your eyes, heels slapping against the pavement as you charged forward, going anywhere but back there. Three bubbles again, your breath held as they lingered a little longer this time.
📱Rafe Cameron: its not.
After that, you tried to avoid him but he made it impossible.
Watching you from across the quad. Standing by his car outside your building. Lingering after class just long enough to bump into you by accident—where you went he was.
At first it was unnerving—but soon it stopped feeling like fear. You’d be lying if you said a part of you didn’t like it. The attention. The quiet pull of knowing you were still the one he couldn’t stop orbiting.
Mid-October, you saw him in the library, half-hidden, a wall of books between you—that familiar prickle down your spine you always had.
“Gonna keep pretending you don’t see me?” His voice slid through the shelves, low and amused.
You smiled despite yourself, avoiding his gaze. “You following me, Cameron?”
“Never stopped,” he murmured. “You said you needed space. I gave you as much as I could.”
“I never said that,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on the books. “I said whatever was happening between us was done.”
He huffed a soft laugh that sounded nothing like amusement.
“And I told you—it’s not.” Your hand reached for a book, but his fingers caught yours first, pinning them in place. “Look at me.”
When your eyes met through the gap in the shelves, something in your chest gave. His thumb brushed your knuckles, slow and steady.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed.
“For what?” You murmured back, and just like he always did he softened at the sound of your voice and the weight of your gaze.
“Kissin’ that girl—”
“Beth,” you correct him quickly—just enough to let him know you’d looked into it yourself.
“Sure,” he mumbled, like it didn’t matter.
“It’s fine, Rafe. You can see people… You can do whatever you want. I mean, I have a boyfriend.”
He tilted his head, eyes dragging over your face like he was reading every lie. “That what you tell yourself to sleep at night?” He murmured. “Or is that what you tell him?”
The question didn’t just linger with you… It haunted you and stayed with you through your lectures, your sleepless nights, your quiet moments alone when your phone buzzed and your heart stuttered, getting caught, wishing it was him instead of JJ.
Then came the next frat party.
Then came the texts.
📱Rafe Cameron: you look so damn good
📱Rafe Cameron: upstairs now
Seven words. That’s all it took for the thin band of your restraint to snap.
You found him, and before you could breathe his mouth was on yours—hungry, reckless, the kind of kiss that burned through months of denial.
His hands gripped your hips like he was reclaiming you—dragging you up against him until the space between you vanished completely.
“Never make me wait that long again,” he rasped against your lips, each word rough and bitter.
“Rafe—”
His hand slid to your throat—not cruel, just firm—pulse pattering under his thumb.
“Tell me you missed me,” he breathed. “I need to hear you say it—”
“I missed you,” you whispered, voice breaking and hoarse. “I miss you.”
He exhaled sharply, forehead dropping to yours. “You drive me insane,” he muttered. “A year, baby. A fucking year.”
You swallowed, trying to find your voice. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”
He stilled, eyes narrowing just slightly. “No?”
“I just… I thought it was safer this way.”
“Safer?” He repeated, a whisper of a laugh under his breath.
You hesitated, unsure of how to approach this, not wanting to break the silence you swore to yourself you’d keep.
“I didn’t want anything to happen to you,” you mumble timidly.
His mouth twitched, brushing against your lips. “I don’t need anyone to keep me safe… You know that.”
“Rafe—”
“Safe from who?” He asked quietly. “Why?”
You hesitated, then sighed. “I was scared about JJ. I don’t know. I was worried about what he’d do if he ever found out about us.”
“Maybank,” he muttered his frat brother’s name, sounding foreign in his mouth. “You mean your casual boyfriend, JJ Maybank?” He let out a low, humorless laugh. “The fuck are you worried about him for?”
“I don't know,” you whisper.
You swallowed hard, unsure if he meant that night or something else entirely.
“You know… I don’t understand how anybody could be casual about you.” His voice hummed across your lips, using his hold to pull you closer. “I've never been subtle. JJ suggested it. He let me in the room that night. He knew how I felt about you. That’s on him,” he said softly. “Not me. And definitely not fucking you.”
“Okay…”
“That the only reason why you're worried, pretty? Just worried he’ll find out I never got over you? That I can't stop thinking about you? That it's gonna be you and me?”
Rafe pulled back enough just to look in your eyes—doll-like and wide—keeping his secret held close to your chest like a test you weren't willing to fail. He nodded, mouth curling just slightly—like claiming you was never in question; like he was proud.
He leaned in again, voice rough and tender. “Don’t make me wait like that again, baby. I’m not built for it.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You’re sorry? You’re cruel.” His grip softened on your throat as he corrected you, thumb tracing your lower lip.
The air between you tightened, humming with everything unsaid. Your chest rose against his, breath shallow, hearts thudding in the same rhythm.
“Something needs to change,” you whispered.
“Change?” He breathed, dipping in to kiss you softly. “Just tell me what you want, pretty girl. I’ll give you every goddamn thing.”
“I can’t keep doing this behind his back,” you murmured. “It’s wrong.”
Rafe nodded slowly, thumb tracing your jaw. “Then don’t. Let me take care of it.”
“Rafe—”
“I mean it,” he said, voice low, deliberate. “You won’t have to worry about Maybank. I’ll handle it. So I’m gonna ask you one more time—what do you want?”
“You.”
“Knew it,” he murmured. “Thought I was the only one losing my fuckin’ mind.”
AMC Theater | 7 days until Halloween…
JJ’s arm wraps snug around you as he slides the movie tickets into his back pocket, lips brushing your temple with a feather-light kiss.
“Maybank.”
That single word cuts through the noise—smooth, confident, unmistakably Rafe.
Your stomach sinks because like clockwork, across the street, in front of the bar, there he stands with a beer bottle in his hand and a joint between his lips; arm wrapped around a beautiful girl with her hand rested on his chest as she laughs at something Kelce says.
You want to hate her for being there, but here you are, those four little words from the night before vanishing into thin air because clearly nothing has changed.
Rafe sees you, you know he does. His eyes are unreadable; fake warmth softening his face, and if you didn’t know him better you’d think he was honestly happy to see his best friend and his girl…
Your chest tightens as JJ pulls you closer, greeting him, promising to catch up with Rafe and the boys later.
The two of you disappear into the blur of the theatre. JJ squeezes your hand, tugging you toward the concession stand. The theater buzzes; bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder as the crowd filters deeper inside.
You try to focus—to laugh at something JJ mutters but you can’t stop replaying the moment: Rafe’s face, the look that stabbed you right through the heart.
“Fuck!” You gasp as someone jumps out at you with a Ghostface mask pulled over his head.
“Jumpy tonight, huh?” He bullies. “Next week’s gonna be better than that. You excited?”
“Mhmm… Are you?” You ask.
“Free labor?” He snorts, like it’s ridiculous. “Nah. Just excited to scare the shit out of people at the Haunted House.” His hand snakes around your waist, pulling you a little closer. “You gonna come by while I’m workin’, pretty girl? Got you a week pass.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you smile, lips wrapping around your straw, taking a sip.
“We’re all gonna be masked up. You gonna get all hot and bothered like you did last year?” He taunts, making your cheeks burn at the understatement of the century. “C’mon, sweetness. I know you love that shit.”
JJ tugs you along, the two of you shuffling down the steps, trying to find a pair of open seats. And as you do, someone jumps out again, making popcorn fly from the tub like confetti.
“Goddamn, you’re wound tight,” he laughs, brushing a stray popcorn kernel from your hair.
A pair of police officers greet everyone that passes through the door; half-assed pats at their pockets and a quick once-over to check if that prop dagger really pokes.
It's eerie. You weren’t here last year, but you remember the news coverage from where you sat safe and sound with JJ on the couch last year—the panic, the footage of police lights flashing against the theater’s glass doors, blood on the tile where people tripped trying to get out.
A man stabbed in the bathroom—a woman found in the back row before anyone realized the screams weren’t part of the movie.
You wrap your arm a little tighter around JJ’s arm out of instinct—the worry in your body language is crystal-clear enough for JJ to notice, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple.
‘Cause who says there won’t be a sequel?
The theater hums around you—laughter, whispers, the swell of the previews—but all you can hear is the thump of your own pulse. You shift, pretending to reach for popcorn, but really your fingers are searching for your phone.
Even through the panic, something in you still pulls back to Rafe. A missed Instagram notification from a few minutes before–Rafe Cameron.
Curiosity wins and you open it up, the brunette from earlier leans into him, her perfect body wrapped in a red and white nurse's costume. His hand rests on the latex painted over her hip as she presses a plastic thermometer to his lips.
Your heart aches; jealousy and anger bloom and blossom into something wicked.
The contact alone had you fuming—the shameless public display of affection—only touching, but still. Every time you’d gotten close, something interrupted: footsteps in the hallway, JJ calling, the world never quite letting you fall apart in peace. Maybe that’s what made this so much worse.
‘Something needs to change.’ You’d said it yourself and now he’s using it as a joke.
You scroll to your DM’s from earlier in the day, needing proof of the version of him that felt real.
📸 Your Name: help me pick one?
You sent him three pictures: a bunny, a devil, and a nurse. The same costume that girl had on, thrown back in your face like a cruel joke from the universe.
📸 Rafe Cameron: All three. Fuck baby I'm so lucky. You look stunning.
📸 Rafe Cameron: criminal to send me these in class now I'm just daydreaming about us fucking
📸 Your Name: Maybe I got one more I know you’ll love.
📸 Rafe Cameron: no fuckin way show me
📸 Your Name: Nope 🩷 You’ll have to wait
📸 Rafe Cameron: I'm on my knees
📸 Rafe Cameron: Cat?
📸 Rafe Cameron: witch?
📸 Rafe Cameron: Cheerleader?
📸 Your Name: Wouldn’t you like to know
📸 Rafe Cameron: obviously. Stop playin with me
📸 Rafe Cameron: Fuck you’re killing me.
📸 Your Name: well you told me I was cruel so
📸 Rafe Cameron: never beating those allegations. Send me a preview you love teasin me cmon
You pointed the camera low, lifting your cheer skirt just enough to tease your upper thigh and a little skin, a pair of white tube socks with pink accents, and matching pink heels.
📸 Rafe Cameron: Im so fucking obsessed with you
📸 Rafe Cameron: where are you? I'm coming and getting you
📸 Your Name: I'm at the mall with JJ he's just getting me a coffee
📸 Rafe Cameron: fuck that shit made me sick
📸 Your Name: I’m sorry
📸 Rafe Cameron: you’re good baby. just hold tight for me alright?
📸 Rafe Cameron: i’m fixing it
📸 Rafe Cameron: not letting another year pass by i’m getting whats mine
📸 Your Name: okay baby 💕
📸 Rafe Cameron: love when you call me that
You blink at the old timestamp—that frozen version of him that no one else sees, so sweet it hurts. Now he’s letting another girl touch him, laughing for the camera.
Your fingers move before you can think it through, backing out of the DMs to face the image again, hit with that same bitter taste in your mouth. Double-tap. No comment. One small red heart glaring back at you.
You counter his petty attack with something simple—something you know will sting. You lift your phone, framing the shot just right: your hand curled around JJ’s thick bicep, the corner of his smile and his dimple caught on camera; hair so perfectly mussed you know Rafe’ll only assume it from your fingers running through it. No text caption, just a black heart and a knife.
And, post.
Five, four, three, New Notification: Rafe Cameron…
It takes less than five seconds before Rafe likes it—too fast to be a coincidence—his thumb hovering, just waiting to remind you he’s still watching.
You look up at the screen as the lights fall low, your phone dimming with it. JJ softens in his seat, snuggling a little closer, fresh off a conversation with one of his frat brothers he didn’t see walking in.
You look down at your phone one last time, moving to your messages, pulling up the last conversation with Rafe. The text chain, previously paired down from private conversations the two of you had shared over the last couple of days to a simple request for you to tell JJ to call him back.
📱Rafe Cameron: 💬
Three dots pop up as you see him start to type.
Gone.
Three dots again.
Gone.
Your pulse stutters ‘cause he’s there. He’s saying something, thinking better of it, before he words whatever it is that’s meant for you.
You’re holding your breath when it stops for good.
JJ adjusts in his seat, tugging his phone out of his back pocket, looking down at the screen. “Cameron says they’re going to Cowboys. Wants us to swing by after. Sounds good?”
You nod, forcing a smile you don’t feel, because you can read the situation clearly. He’d started to text you, then he changed his mind. A finishing move for the moment.
You sink lower in your seat, feeling it all; jealousy, anger, regret, yearning, guilt.
“Everything okay?” JJ murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he leans in.
“Fine,” you say.
He presses a kiss against your cheek. This should be all you need, present in this moment with him, and still, you’d trade it all to know what Rafe almost said.
The title slashes red across the screen, Stab: Frat Row. The crowd whoops and whistles, a drunk roar coming from the seats.
On-screen, the camera glides down a street—their street. You’ve walked it a hundred times after midnight, heels catching on cracked sidewalks, laughter spilling from doorways. Then it zooms in on the Delta Sigma Phi house.
The boys’ house. The sight of it, close enough that it makes your stomach turn; the glowing Greek letters welcoming partygoers dressed in Halloween costumes as they stumbled in and out.
It’s uncanny. Like someone stole a slice of your memory. Your chest tightens, fingers curling around the armrest. You tell yourself it’s a movie, but the unease twists deep in your guts.
“Damn, that’s creepy as fuck,” JJ mutters through a mouth of popcorn, feeling it too.
On-screen, the shot drifts through the door—beer pong table, couples grinding, all of it too exact. The actress moves up the stairs, and your stomach knots.
She steps slowly, past couples and drunk frat brothers ‘til she’s alone, looking like a helpless bunny in her Playboy costume as she yells for Easton.
The door creaks. A dark figure flickers past the corner of the frame—she doesn’t see it, but you do, and your pulse spikes.
The music builds, growing more sinister by the second; but your eyes are pulled away from the screen. Movement… Something shifts in your periphery.
You look left—a man staggers into the aisle, shirt speckled red. He sways like he’s drunk, clutching the seatbacks for balance as he walks in front of the screen.
“Sit down, asshole!” Someone jeers, pelting him with popcorn.
“Move. You're blockin’ the screen!” Another heckles, kernels of popcorn bouncing off his weak body onto the floor.
But you can’t laugh. Because where his hand drags over the fabric, something darker trails after it. A slick shine under the light as he reveals more and more red.
Someone stands up, attempting to take care of it himself. But he turns, the bone-white mask and the glint of his dagger makes the blood drain from your face.
“Do it!” Someone hollers, drunk and sloppy as the figure lifts the knife to his throat, catching the boy by the shoulder, slicing the blade clean across his neck.
The sound’s a wet rip—the scream from his throat gurgles with blood as it sprays hot across the aisle. He collapses in a grotesque heap on the floor.
Everything catches up with you as your pulse spikes because the spray looks too heavy—the collapse too final. Laughter snaps off mid-note.
“We gotta get out of here,” you stammer as you push out of your seat as the man lies unmoving; blood spreads on the carpet as the ghost-faced monster breathes ragged above him.
A string of curses and disbelief precedes the screams that rip through the theater; hands shoving as people fight for the exit.
“JJ!” You shout as his fingers slip from yours, the avalanche of people pulling you with it, dragging you up the stairs, nearly losing your footing as bodies crush past.
“JJ!” You scream again, voice hoarse, but he’s already gone. The doors fling open and the crowd pours into the lobby. You’re hauled with the crowd, lungs locked, vision tunneling. You claw for your phone. It rings once—voicemail.
“Come on, Jayj,” you whimper, catching his voicemail again. You swallow the lump in your throat, struggling for a breath as you press your thumb down, calling for Rafe instead.
“The fuck do you want?” His voice cuts sharp and bitter through the speaker.
“Rafe—”
“You gonna bitch me out about, Grace? You see me with her and decide to finally make that change, princess? That it?”
“Rafe, please—”
“Unbelievable,” he spits. “That fucking Instagram post? Are you trying to kill me? Do I mean nothing to you? Did last night mean nothing? I'm only out with her ‘cause I’m embarrassed, alright? Pride’s gone. You happy?”
“Rafe!” Your scream crackles through the speaker, raw and desperate for him to listen.
He stops mid-rant; voice trailing off like he finally hears you. Like he really hears you.
The silence makes your blood run cold as the chaos surges around you. And for one breathless second you’re ridden with the thought—was it him? Was he under the mask, standing by that screen, and now he’s pretending.
You listen a little closer but it’s all there: the bar noise, the club music, laughter. The sirens scream on your end of the phone, making it next to impossible to hear.
“Hey—Hey, baby. You okay?” His voice changes. “—Where are you?”
“AMC,” you sob. “I can't—I can't find JJ. Everybody started running and I—I lost him.”
“Running?” He asks, and you can already hear in his voice that he's moving through a crowd of his own.
“Somebody died…” your voice squeaks out but he quickly pushes past that.
“And you’re alone?” His voice tightens and you can hear the disappointment and anger twisted into it.
“Yeah—”
“Maybank lost you? Left you?” His rage bursts through. “You fuckin’ kidding me?” You can hear the footsteps on the other end of the phone, Rafe’s feet pounding against the sidewalk; his breathing short and sharp. “Stay on the fucking phone with me. You hear me? Stay on. I'm almost there.”
The crowd thins, the night air hits your skin—and then he’s there. You turn around and he collides into you, his big body covering you from the commotion, arms holding you close.
“Rafe—” You whimper with tear-filled eyes as his lips claim yours. You gasp into your kiss; Rafe swallowing the sound as his lips tremble against yours.
He pulls back enough that his eyes scan your face, looking you over protectively as his hands hold your cheeks, bringing you in for another breathless kiss.
“M’sorry for talkin’ to you like that—I was angry. I wasn’t listening,” he mumbles gently between soft kisses.
“Baby!” You hear JJ holler for you—your body drifting away from Rafe’s as the ambulance shielding you pulls away.
“Don’t worry about me, okay? We’ll—We’ll figure it out,” Rafe mutters through gritted teeth, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Holy shit. Holy shit, baby,” JJ pants as he runs across the street. He pulls you in tight, a mirror image of Rafe’s reaction a moment before. And the contact makes you feel like you’re fighting air again, caught between the boy who should have you and the boy that does…
Both calling you baby.
He presses kisses to your forehead, taking a moment to calm down with you in his arms, whispering I’m sorrys between sharp breaths.
Rafe’s still there. His sharp jaw set hard, blue eyes burning hotter than you’ve ever seen before.
And in that moment, your worry shifts… Maybe it wasn’t JJ you had to worry about at all.
Maybe it was the boy who kissed you like a lover, and stared at him like prey.
you sat in the comfort of your bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, finishing up some homework while talking with a girlfriend of yours on the phone. you reach your hand out to your nightstand to grab the nail file when the sound of the door closing causes you to freeze, being left home alone, your heart starts to race, and you hang up the phone and walk up to your door. you pull down your pretty little white nightgown so it covers your ass as you press your ear to the door to make sure it was just your parents.
all you hear is silence so you shrug and convince yourself it was just your mind playing tricks on you, then the phone starts to ring again, thinking it was just your friend calling you back, and you pick up the phone.
"hello?" you speak with your voice lowered.
"hey babyface" you stop moving when you hear a voice you don't recognize.
"who's calling?" you try to sound assertive but end up sounding like a scared puppy.
"i've been uh- watching you for a long time, an' i figured i should introduce myself," he says, his voice all gravely. you grip on the handle of the phone and reach an arm over to close your curtains quickly.
"stop that! it's not funny, whoever this is leave me alone." you almost whine.
"nah can't do that baby, you looked too pretty in that nightgown...you wearin' panties underneath?" he continues.
"i'm gonna call my boyfriend an-and he'll find out who you are and beat you up!" you stutter.
"you're not gonna do that, cuz uh- i'm in the house, and if you hang up-"
"i'll call the police!" you cut him off.
"i need you to listen to me, if you don't wanna die, you need to walk down to the living room slowly- you try to run and i'll catch you. if you don't come down, i'll go up n'get you." he then hangs up, your chest heaving as tears start to form in your eyes, you think about climbing out the window but it is on the second floor and the man might catch you and kill you! you decide to grab a chair to put against the door to keep him coming in but it's too late, as you take one step backward trying to drag the chair you feel the blade of a knife press against your neck. you gasp, ready to scream.
"shshshsh, behave." the man shushes you, pressing himself behind you, god he must be tall. "told you to listen" he coos condescendingly.
"please, please don't..." you sob.
"hey, hey! shut up- listen to me alright?" he raises his voice causing you to shut your eyes and nod slowly in fear, tears spill down your face. "good girl. want you to lay down on your bed and stay there, don't move, scream, talk or do anything 'less i tell you." you nod again slowly and he removes the knife from your neck, you do as you are told and lay down on your bed, silently sobbing.
you look at the man, face now lit up by the soft light of your nightstand lamp, you watch him come closer and wipe some of the sweat forming on his forehead under his messy hair with the back of his hand that's holding the knife. he grins, getting up on your bed and tossing the knife next to him as he pins you down.
"r-rafe?..." you whisper, now realizing who it is.
"yeah! yeah baby it's me..." he continues to grin.
"get off! please rafe, i don't wanna do this with you!" you whine and start to squirm a little bit.
"you don't really have a choice." he mumbles as he runs his rough hands up and down your thighs, stopping to grab the hem of your lace panties. "you wear this for me?" he says pulling them down as you really start to cry, trying to get him off of you by pushing at his shoulders but he's too strong.
"i have a- my boyfriend-" you start but then he looks back into your eyes and smiles again. "nah, you don't, i got rid of 'im... cut him up, he's in the trunk of my truck. wanna see?" he asks, his eyes following yours, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away lovingly.
"why!? why are you doing this!" you sob and try and move your face away from his touch. "i love you, i love you so much and you never talked to me or...looked at me and i need you to love me too…say it…" he demands. you shake your head no and try and push him off, pissed, rafe manhandles you. he flips you onto your stomach and lifts you up by your waist so your face is smushed against the messy sheets, ass in the air. "you fucking brat." he spits out.
he yanks your panties down and smacks your ass with his large hand, holding your wrists in the other. he forcefully spreads your legs and places a hard slap on your poor wet little cunt.
you let out a yelp as he "soothes" your throbbing pussy by rubbing your clit with the rough pads of three fingers. "are you a virgin princess?" he whispers, pressing a gross, sloppy kiss to your cheek. you whine out and try to move your face away. "what? you don't like my kisses?" he leans in again to give you a few more of those wet kisses, making taunting kissy sounds that make you scrunch up your face and mewl.
"gonna make you feel reeeally good baby, gonna make this little pussy cream all over me, yeah?" he rambles, grabbing the knife with his free hand, bringing it back to your neck. "please rafe, i've never- "
"you waited for me? huh? princess saved herself for me." you can hear his smile, he's almost relieved that he will be your first and last. he pulls himself out of his boxers and starts to line himself up. "i would'a stretched you out a bit first but this cunt is a dripping mess already so."
you scream as you feel his fat tip press against your entrance. "shhhhshh, s'just the tip." he murmurs, easing himself in slowly until he's stretching you as you've never felt, his tip kisses your cervix. "ow! it's too big, too much, too big..." you ramble, squeezing down on his cock unable to really move due to the knife.
"n'you are so tight, fuck, this is where you should'a always been..taking me like this babydoll." he grits through his teeth as he starts to thrust causing you to whine and to try and pull your hands away from his grip.
"keep cryin', it's only making me harder princess," he grunts, tears continue to stream down your face. he pounds into you now hard and fast, you wish you could grab onto his shoulders or hair as he starts to hit that sweet spot.
"stop it! rafeeee" you whine, he shushes you by tossing the knife on the bed again and covering your mouth with his hand as he continues his assault on your cunt. "i should cum in you, knock you up so you won't ever be able to leave me." he breathes out, he lets go of your face and wraps that hand around your neck to bring you up to kiss your neck. "no! no no please pull out! please rafe!" you cry.
he lets go of your neck and throws you back down you your face hits the mattress again, he lets go of your wrists so you are now gripping your sheets. "you know that's the knife i used to stab your boyfriend? he begged like a little bitch. he didn't deserve you." he reaches a hand around to grab your pussy and pull you closer to him, then rubbing your throbbing clit.
"m'na cummm" you mewl, body giving into how he's touching you so roughly yet gently.
"i know baby, give it to me, all over my cock c'mon" he encourages with that tone, and feeling him so deep in you and hitting that spot your body goes numb. shutting your eyes tightly as hot white explodes in you making you feel like you are on a roller-coaster.
he grips your waist and with the other hand, he's lovingly brushing back your messy baby hairs due to your sweaty forehead. "atta girl, thereee, see? i knew you could be good for me." he thrusts once more hard and deep, shooting his thick hot load all up in you causing you to whine at the feeling and making him groan.
he pulls out of you, sticking his two fingers into your pussy to push his cum back in, then leaning in to bite your ass. you let out a little scream, he flips you on your back and grabs the knife, gripping your thigh he brings the knife over to carve a little RC into the meat of your thigh. you try not to thrash around but you do let out another little scream at the pain.
"yer' all mine now kid." he smiles, exhaustion taking over as you let out shaky breaths and let him lean in to press icky kiss to your lips. ᥫ᭡
》 NOWHERE TO RUN — ghostface!rafe cameron x reader
word count — 6.1k
warnings — MDNI; dark!ghostface!rafe, murder/violence + mentions of, mentions of oral (m receiving), smut, blood, knife play, swearing, underage drinking, smoking, rafe is honestly not horrible to reader tbh as per usual LOL, not proofread, lmk if i’m missing anything!!
summary — rafe and topper drag you to a halloween party, despite there being a ‘serial killer’ on the loose. you don’t expect the face you find under the mask, or the way you’d find out…
a/n — HAPPY HALLOWEEEN 🎃 almost scrapped this omg did not think this fic was gonna make it by the end of october but here we are :) also PLS IGNORE THE FACT THAT THE GIRL IN THE PIC IS WHITE..madison’s halloween costume from last year was my first thought for what reader was wearing ok but there are hardly any descriptions of reader so pls imagine them as whoever!!! love u guysss enjoy <3
FEEDBACK & REBLOGS ALWAYS MAKE MY DAY BTW
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…….
there was supposed to be a part from rafe’s POV where he came back in the party smh. for context, rafe didn’t know reader was upstairs with someone, he was just going up there to find someone to kill real quick LMAO and went in the first room and found them so he just killed that guy smh the scene would’ve been too good 😮💨 anyway tysm for reading, if u made it this far PLS REBLOG & COMMENT TYYY
Rafe Cameron, consumed by an obsessive love for you, becomes Ghostface, murdering anyone he sees as a threat to his claim on you.
TW- murder, obsessive behaviour.
The Outer Banks was known for its beauty: golden sunsets, endless beaches, and the salty air that whispered promises of freedom. But lately, that promise felt like a lie. The town was gripped with fear, whispers of a masked killer spreading like wildfire. They called him Ghostface, a name plucked from horror movies but now real, haunting your life in ways you couldn’t escape.
What no one knew what you didn’t know was that the killer wasn’t some faceless stranger. It was Rafe Cameron.
And his obsession with you was the reason the killings had begun.
The first time you noticed something strange, it had been subtle. Rafe was always intense, his gaze lingering on you a little too long, his presence suffocating in a way that should have made you uncomfortable. But Rafe was also charming, magnetic even. You found yourself drawn to him despite the warnings in your head.
But as the days passed, his intensity deepened. He started showing up unannounced at your work, outside your house, even at the places you went to clear your mind.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he’d say, flashing that disarming smile. “With everything going on, you can’t be too careful.”
At first, it felt sweet. Protective. But soon, it felt suffocating.
The murders began with strangers people you didn’t know well enough to connect the dots. A lifeguard at the beach, a couple tourists who had wandered into the wrong part of town. The pattern was erratic at first, but then it started to hit closer to home.
You were with Sarah Cameron when she got the call about her boyfriend, Topper. The cops had found him in the woods, gutted like an animal. Sarah broke down in your arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and you couldn’t help but notice Rafe watching from the corner of the room.
His expression wasn’t one of grief. It was satisfaction.
The night it all came crashing down, you were alone in your house. The power had gone out during a storm, and you were sitting in the living room with a flashlight and your phone, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling over you.
That’s when you heard the knock at the door.
It wasn’t loud just three soft taps, deliberate and slow.
“Who is it?” you called, your voice shaking.
No response.
You grabbed a kitchen knife and crept toward the door, your heart pounding. When you peeked through the peephole, all you saw was darkness.
Then your phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number: You shouldn’t be alone.
Your blood ran cold.
Before you could react, the window behind you shattered, and a figure in black vaulted into the room. The scream caught in your throat as the figure lunged at you, pinning you to the floor.
The knife clattered from your hand as you struggled, but it was no use. The figure was too strong, too quick.
“Stop fighting,” the distorted voice said, low and mechanical through the voice modulator. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The masked figure pulled out a knife, holding it to your throat, but he didn’t press down. Instead, he leaned closer, tilting his head as if studying you.
Then, slowly, he removed the mask.
“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
His eyes were wild, his lips curved into a twisted smile. “I told you I’d protect you,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something dark. “I just needed to get rid of the distractions.”
“Distractions?” you echoed, your mind racing as realization hit.
“Topper. JJ. Sarah. They were all in the way. You couldn’t see it, but I did. They didn’t deserve to be near you.”
Tears streamed down your face as you stared at him in horror. “You killed them? All of them?”
“I did it for you,” he said, his tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
You shook your head, trying to inch away, but he grabbed your wrists, his grip bruising.
The room was suffocating, the walls closing in as Rafe knelt over you, the Ghostface mask discarded at his side. His wild blue eyes locked onto yours, his breath uneven with exhilaration.
“Let me explain,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with madness. “You don’t understand now, but you will.”
You didn’t want to understand. Every instinct told you to fight, to scream, to do something, but his weight pinned you to the floor, and his manic gaze froze you in place.
“It started with Topper,” Rafe said, as if you’d asked for the story. “That guy was such an idiot, thinking he could push you around at parties, making those crude comments. I hated the way he looked at you.”
Your mind flashed to that night at the beach bonfire, when Topper had made some drunk joke about you being “the hottest Pogue.” You’d brushed it off, but Rafe had been furious, storming off without a word.
“I followed him that night,” Rafe continued, his tone calm, like he was recounting a mundane event. “He didn’t even hear me coming. One quick cut across the throat, and he went down like the pathetic little worm he was.”
You gagged, bile rising in your throat, but Rafe didn’t stop.
“And Sarah,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer. “She was always trying to play the big sister, telling me to leave you alone. She didn’t get it. She thought she could warn you, but she didn’t realize how serious I was.”
Tears blurred your vision as you thought of Sarah her kind smile, the way she’d pulled you aside to warn you about Rafe’s behavior.
“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said, his voice softening, almost regretful. “But she wouldn’t shut up. She was going to ruin everything. So, I took her out by the marsh. She fought hard, you know? Almost made me rethink it. Almost.”
He paused, studying your face as if gauging your reaction. “I made it quick. For her.”
“You’re a monster,” you whispered, your voice cracking.
His eyes darkened, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t say that,” he hissed. “I did this for you. For us. You think I wanted to hurt you? To scare you? I had to. They were all trying to take you away from me.”
“JJ…” you started, your voice trembling.
Rafe grinned, leaning back slightly. “Oh, JJ was fun. He was always so cocky, always acting like he could protect you. I wanted to see him break.”
You remembered the day JJ’s body was found under the pier, the jagged “X” carved into his chest. The image would haunt you forever.
“He begged,” Rafe said, his tone almost giddy now. “He said, ‘Please, don’t do this.’ As if I’d ever listen to him. He didn’t deserve to be near you, Y/N. None of them did.”
“And Kie?” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.
Rafe’s expression hardened. “Kie was the worst. She thought she was better than everyone, always pretending she was the voice of reason. She was a bad influence on you.”
You felt like you might vomit as he continued.
“She went down easy,” he said with a shrug. “I cornered her after you two said goodbye that night. She didn’t even see it coming. She was so distracted, thinking she could keep you safe. But she didn’t stand a chance.”
Your sobs grew louder, and Rafe’s demeanor shifted. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle despite the horrors he was describing.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “It’s over now. It’s just us. No one else will ever hurt you, or distract you, or take you away from me.”
“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking with equal parts fear and fury.
Rafe chuckled, leaning closer. “Maybe. But I’m also the only one who truly loves you. Don’t you see that? I did all of this for you.”
You stared into his eyes, the weight of his obsession crashing down on you. There was no reasoning with him, no appealing to his humanity. Rafe Cameron wasn’t just insane he was utterly and completely lost to his delusion.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You don’t have to fight this. I’ve already won.”
His arrogance was your opening. Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you drove your knee upward, catching him off-guard. He grunted, the knife slipping from his hand and skidding across the floor.
You didn’t think you just moved. Scrambling to your feet, you bolted for the door, your heart pounding like a war drum.
“Y/N!” Rafe roared, his voice filled with both fury and disbelief.
You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.
Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you sprinted out into the stormy night, rain pelting your face and blurring your vision. The wind howled around you, carrying Rafe’s voice as he shouted your name.
You stumbled into the woods, branches clawing at your skin as you pushed deeper into the darkness. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your lungs burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever.
Behind you, you could hear him crashing through the underbrush, relentless in his pursuit.
“You can’t run from me!” he called, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “You’re mine, Y/N! You’ll always be mine!”
————————————————————————
You didn’t know how long you ran, but eventually, you found yourself near the old marina. The boats swayed violently in the storm, their masts creaking like eerie sentinels. Desperation drove you forward as you searched for a hiding place, somewhere anywhere to catch your breath.
You spotted an abandoned boathouse and darted inside, slamming the door behind you. The smell of salt and damp wood filled your nostrils as you collapsed against the wall, your chest heaving.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then came the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.
“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Rafe’s voice called out, eerily calm now.
Your heart plummeted as you realized he was inside.
You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your breathing as you pressed yourself deeper into the shadows.
“I know you’re here,” he said, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. “You think you can hide from me? After everything I’ve done for you?”
He was closer now. Too close.
You glanced around frantically, your eyes landing on a rusted wrench lying on the floor nearby. Gripping it tightly, you prepared yourself. You had no choice.
The moment his shadow appeared in the doorway, you swung. The wrench connected with his shoulder, and he let out a furious snarl, staggering back.
“You really think you can get away from me?” he growled, his eyes blazing with fury.
“I have to try,” you said, your voice shaking but firm.
He lunged, and you ducked, slipping past him and back out into the storm. Your legs screamed in protest, your lungs on fire, but you didn’t stop. Not until you saw the headlights.
A car was coming down the old dirt road, its beams cutting through the darkness like a beacon of hope. You stumbled into the road, waving your arms frantically.
“Help!” you screamed. “Please, help me!”
The car screeched to a halt, and the driver a local you vaguely recognized jumped out.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, but before you could answer, Rafe emerged from the woods, his face twisted in rage.
“Don’t listen to her!” Rafe shouted, his tone switching to something almost pleading. “She’s confused she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”
The driver hesitated, looking between the two of you.
“Please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “He’s going to kill me!”
That was all it took. The man stepped between you and Rafe, his stance protective.
But Rafe didn’t flinch. He simply smiled.
“Wrong move,” Rafe muttered before pulling a knife from his belt and plunging it into the man’s side.
You screamed as the man crumpled to the ground, his blood mixing with the rain-soaked dirt.
“You see?” Rafe said, turning back to you, his knife dripping red. “There’s no one who can save you. No one who understands you like I do.”
————————————————————————
Days later, you woke up in a strange room, the faint scent of sea air filling your nose. Your wrists were bound, the rope digging into your skin.
Rafe sat in a chair nearby, his gaze soft but unwavering.
“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice tender. “No one’s going to take you away from me ever again.”
The reality settled over you like a shroud. You had escaped, but only briefly.
And now, there was no escape. Not from him. Not ever.
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You and your best friend Rafe were always close since you were kids. Since your parents didn’t really care about you that much they always left you at their house, and because you and Sarah didn’t get along so well, and well Wheezie was to young to befriend her, you started nagging Rafe.
His dad also nagged him to be with you since he felt kind of bad for you. At first Rafe didn’t like you, but slowly warmed up to you, leading you to a really close bond.
Unknowingly Rafe had a dark side. A really dark one. He always told you all his secrets, knowing he can trust you with them, but he didn’t tell you a couple of them.
First one was he obsessed with you. At first he was in denial, but later embraced the feeling. He always walked with you everywhere, to make sure you’re safe, always looking out for you from afar. He loved sleeping over at your house. Your scent made him go crazy. He definitely did steal your panties once or twice..
And the second secret, was that he’s the Ghost face that has been haunting Outer banks for a while. He needed to deal with people he didn’t like, or the ones that hurt you.
But he couldn’t let you know, you were just a little clueless princess to him.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You and Rafe were watching a movie at his house, bunch of blankets and snacks scattered on his bed with the laptop playing a movie. Your boyfriend cheated on you with some girl at some dumb halloween party Topper was throwing and of course when you and Rafe came, you saw them making out basically dry humping eachother.
Rafe was filled with anger at that moment, eyebrows crossed and fists clenched. He was so lost in mind he didn’t even notice you coming towards them, and punched Elijah in the noise, knee to the groin. You started screaming at him and how you were over, the people around you now looking at you.
“You bitch” Elijah said to you, hand going to his now bloody nose. You felt a slap to your face from the whore that was making out with him, face now turning to her. “Wanna do that again?” you ask coming closer to her.
The crowd was now cheering for you, Rafe coming to you. “yea-“ she was cut off by your fist, one punch to her lip and another one to her nose. Elijah and her now had matching bloody noses, looking at you.
“Hey, hey Y/n let’s go” you felt Rafe’s hand on your shoulder, calming you. “Yeah go suck his dick or something whore” Elijah said, hissing at the pain in his nose. Rafe couldn’t take it anymore. “What did you just say to her?” he asked, letting go of you.
“Yeah like it isn’t obvious, how many times have you fucked her, hm?” Elijah said to Rafe. “None of your fucking business” he whispered, throwing another punch at him, with way more force than yours, knocking him to the ground. He didn’t stop there, kicking him with his shoe.
“R-rafe let’s go” you thug on his shirt, tears in your eyes. He stopped immediately, hand going on your shoulder and turning around. You were pushing through the crowd, Rafe annoyed. Someone was with their phone out, Rafe taking it out of their hands, smashing it to the ground.
You were now away from the crowd, going towards Rafes cross bike. “Hey it’s okay Y/n, he was always an asshole, you deserve someone better” he hugged you. ‘Someone like me’ he thought.
You stayed silent, some tears still going down. “Hey why don’t you sleep at my house tonight?” he suggested “We can watch your favourite movie” you smiled at him, hugging him harder. “Yeah let’s go”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You were watching the movie when you suddenly started craving a redbull. Rafe was lost in thought, cooking up a plan to kill Elijah and his whore. “Hey Rafe” you nudged him. “Hm?” he hummed. “Can you run to the gas station or something, i really want a redbull” you asked with pleading eyes.
‘Perfect’ he thought. “Yeah of course” he replied, getting up from the warm blankets. “You want something else” he asked, pulling a hoodie over his head. “Nope” you replied, getting comfy.
He left the room, not before grabbing his ghost face outfit out of the closet in the guest room that no one uses. He knew Elijah was already home, Topper texted him how he went running home with his new girl.
Elijah didn’t live far from Rafe’s house, Rafe going there by foot. He opened the window on the first floor, coming in. The house was dark but only 1 room had the lights on. He purposely dropped a vase and hid, waiting for him to come out.
The bedroom door squeaked, the male coming out. “Who’s there?” he asked, slowly coming towards the kitchen. As he entered he heard a deep voice speak up “Me” Elijah started screaming, turning back and trying to run but was quickly met with a stab in his back.
Elijah started screaming, crashing to the floor. Rafe stepped in between him, getting close to his face. “Shouldn’t have messed with my Y/n dude” he said, turning his head. “R-rafe?” Elijah questioned but was quickly met with another stab. “Yes, the one and only” he said, slashing his throat open.
He would’ve taken his time, but you were waiting for him. He quickly went to the bedroom, seeing the slut sleeping peacefully in Elijah’s bed. “Boo bitch” he said as he stood next to the bed as she woke up screaming.
The first stab was to the stomach, then to the chest, her screams getting more muffled by the blood filling in her mouth. “Can’t do anything now can you?” he mocked, blood getting on his mask and gown.
She tried getting the knife to stop, only making it go through her hand. “Ew” he said as she took her final breaths, wiping the knife off with his sleeve.
He left unnoticed, heading to the gas station.
It was halloween night so no one gave him dirty looks, thinking it was just a costume. He came in grabbing the energy drinks, going up to the counter.
The male started making small talk. “Woah dude that costume looks so realistic”. “Thanks… Xander” he said reading the name tag on his uniform. He paid for the drinks, leaving the store quickly.
He was sick of lying to you, finally getting the courage to tell you everything. He climbed through his bedroom’s window, opening the window slowly.
You got scared. Really scared. You started screaming, getting up. He finally stepped in the bedroom, standing and looking at you.
“Shh Y/n it’s alright” he said, calmly without his voice box.
You froze, looking at him, seeing the two redbulls in his hand. “Ra-rafe..?” you whispered. “It was you… You’re ghostface..?” you couldn’t lie you were getting turned on by this. He looked so hot in this moment.
“Yeah Y/n, I’m ghost face” he replied, throwing the drinks on the bed, coming over to you. “Who’s blood is that?” you asked, fingers tracing over his mask.
You weren’t scared of him, you didn’t know why but you weren’t. If he wanted you dead he probably would’ve killed you a long time ago, right?
“Elijahs and his new girls” he replied whispering. You were definitely aroused, pussy starting to throb. You pulled his mask up, seeing his pretty face, bangs over his forehead.
You couldn’t help yourself. On your tip toes you kissed him. His hands going to your waist. “Rafe” you said in between kisses. “Yes?” he asked, gripping your waist. “I want you” you said, gripping his biceps.
“Yeah?” “Aren’t you scared?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “No” you replied, looking at him. “This just made me realise how desperate i am for you” you whispered.
Rafe took of his ghost face outfit, leading you onto his bed. He sat on the edge, your thighs strangling his. His hands went to your ass, gripping it. He started leaving hickeys on yout neck, nice and bruised. You started getting more friction, humping him at this point.
He grabbed the knife beside him, carefully but quickly ripping your shorts and panties with it, so you didn’t need to get off of him. You gasped at this, lips immediately connecting with his. One hand still on your ass he lowered his pants and boxer down to his knees.
“Ride my cock princess” ge demanded, smirking. You slowly aligned his cock to your wet pussy, starting to hump him again. You started whimpering at first, but with his hands guiding you, you couldn’t help but start loudly moaning.
He was whimpering himself, head thrown back. “Yeah just like that” he praised, feeling his cock in you. He started rocking his hips also, making you grip his shoulders tighter.
He was hitting your g-spot every thrust, your head thrown on his shoulder with your eyes tightly closed. “Yeah wanna cum for me princess?” he asked, laughing to himself.
You moaned one last time before feeling the relief wash over you as you came on his dick. He felt his cock twitch, still in you. He loudly moaned, pulling out before cumming, getting the liquid in his hoodie you were wearing.
You looked at him with lust, meeting his blue eyes. “I think I’m in love with you Rafe Cameron” you said, smiling. No one could ever take you away from him.
can you do a continuation of ghostface rafe where reader confronts rafe and it ends up in them fucking
i love this omg , im so sorry for taking so long😔i suggest listening to a lot of freaky songs for this
│Soo, you got a boyfriend?
-Ghostface!Rafe x reader
-warnings: no use of y/n, dark!rafe, chasing, choking, mentions of drugs, threatening, death threats ,use of gun and knife, stalking, smut, mentions of murder, drugs during sex, oral (f receiving.)p in v, no use of y/n,hair pulling,slight degradation, spanking.
You felt a mix of emotions for the past week: firstly, you fucked Rafe Cameron, which somehow made your core ache and stomach flip at the thought; secondly, Rafe Cameron was going to kill you, which made you feel sick, but in the back of your mind, that fear and unpredictability of him coming back, thrilled you. You couldn't just sit and wait for him to come and slit your throat; you had to do something about it. So, after 2 minutes of thinking, as you looked on the ceiling of your bedroom, you decided to find him, with absolutely no plan, but at least packing a weapon just in case.
You wandered through every place; you checked the marina, not there; the yacht club, not there; you checked the country club, sneaking in with the extra keycard your boss gave you when you used to work there; he was not there. Damn it, you even went to Tannyhill, pretending to the maids that you were his girlfriend and was worried sick about poor Rafe because he wasn't answering your calls. You sighed, desperate; where could he be? You were running around like a headless chicken. The chances of him chasing you right now were low; it was daylight anyway.You almost went back to your place after checking everywhere in desperation, until you remembered.
...
"Yo, Barry." you said as you entered his backyard, looking around for any signs of Rafe. He raised an eyebrow as he stepped out of his trailer, beer in hand. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" He asked, amused. "Not here to buy anything, sorry, I uh… is R-" speak of the fucking devil; low and behold, Rafe Cameron struts from behind Barry's trailer, eyes locking with yours immediately, expression unreadable, a mix of shock and anger. "You were saying?" Barry smiled, raising an arm to point at Rafe, who was walking to you in long strides, closing the gap between you as he grabbed your arm, pulling you away from Barry's sight. Your breathing quickened, scared but the same thrill from last week overpowering you. He dragged you behind his trailer, looking at you with a clenched jaw as his breathing heaved. "What the hell are you doing here?" He seethed, gaze burning into yours, wrist still in his grip. You pull away in a grunt, snapping back at him. "So I should just ignore how you were about to kill me?" You bite back, trying not to raise your voice too much, realizing even after that you try to protect him. He starts, words gone quickly as he looks around, running a hand through his hair.
"And why did you come here, want me to finish the job, or something?"
"Fuck you, Rafe, you can’t do shit."
"You want to test it out?"
"Go for it, good luck cleaning up the scene when you have a witness right there." You say, pointing at the back of the trailer. He clicks his tongue, you got him there.
"How do you know I won’t get rid of him too?"
"Then who's going to fund your coke, huh? Fucking junkie."
A strong hand wraps around your neck, holding tight as you gasp for air, bringing your nails up to scratch over them. He lets go harshly, making your body thud against the metal wall of Barry’s trailer. You cough, catching your breath, the tears that were prickling in your eyes drying. "Go. I'll give you a 1-minute head-start." You part your lips, your mind trying to process what he just said, but his look says it all. Pupils blown wide from cocaine, eyes heavy, breathing growing quicker. You start to run back to your car, driving anywhere you can. You can’t go to your house; its stupid, he will find you immediately, not the police station either. What would you even say, anyway? 'He was going to kill me, but we had sex.' Its ridiculous. The cops would never believe you. Not one of your friend's house either, you don't want to put them at risk. Is he even following you right now? Was he bluffing? Playing a sick joke? He's got you spiraling, thats for sure, yet the chase excites you, knowing he's out there, coming for you anytime. You really did and didn't get lucky that day.
You decide to drive laps around Kildare, staying mostly on figure 8, just in case. You look around everywhere for Rafes car or motorcycle, making sure he’s not following you. After 1 hour, you decide to ditch your car at Geechie's and walk back home. You walk through the forest, daylight still shining, making you feel a bit more safe in the position you were in. You walked through, the autumn leaves crunching in each step you take until you hear something louder, at the same time as your step. You stop, looking around the forest, you hear it again, this time louder. You think faster this time, making a run for it, not stopping or looking back until you reach the end, seeing no one behind you. You're becoming paranoid, maybe even imagining things, he’s driving you crazy.
An idea hits you. You run back to Geechies, not through the forest again for obvious reasons. You get in the car, grabbing the pistol you keep in the glove compartment and driving straight to figure 8, you have a plan this time. You tuck the gun behind your shorts, leaving your car a few blocks down from Tannyhill. You were going to ambush him just like he ambushed you and you know this can only go two ways, yet you still want to try your chances. He wasn't going to chase you all night and even if, he wouldn't ever suspect you being in his house. You sneak in freely, the lie you told previously to the maids working in your favor. You run upstairs after one of the housekeepers told you where his room is, making sure to not let them see your back as you had no loose shirt over to cover the gun. You step in his room, immediately looking for any weapons he might have. You found the knife he used on you, the memories flooding back, almost making you forget why he was actually there in the first place. You too are contemplating why you are even here, you cant kill him, are you threatening him? What will that do? You have lost it, he fucked you up completely, you have no idea what you're doing and even when you do, you second guess yourself. A part of you refuses to go back to the cops, you're sure a Kook male like him will face no consequence, but in reality you just don't want him to get in trouble, which you hate him for having that effect on you.
You tuck his knife on your pocket, still looking through any more stuff, until you eventually find the mask and the black cloak he used that day. You grab them, feeling them on your skin, until you decide to put them on in hopes of intimidating him. You rip off your tank top and shorts, everything being too hot under the black robe. You put the mask on your head, not completely over, tucking the knife in the band of your underwear, gun in hand. You look at yourself on the tall mirror on his bed, you scoff, looking absolutely ridiculous, the robe being too big for you, making you look like a trash bag.
You decide to keep it on, deluding yourself that you don't look stupid. 2 hours passed and you were starting to get tired, probably made a hole on the edge of his bed from how long you have been staying there. You get up, wandering around to scout his bedroom, you don't know much about Rafe, yeah he's filthy rich, an asshole and now apparently a wannabe serial killer, but you have no idea what he likes, listens to, anything about his personal life. He intrigues you, what drove him to it in the first place? You go through everything, clothes, posters, his drawers, closet, stealing a bag of coke from his stash in the meantime, stuffing it in your bra as you continue to wander. Your ears pick up a sound, turning around immediately when you meet with the sight of the man himself, Rafe. "Well, shit." you say, bringing your hands up in the air, showing him the gun you have. He stands there, about to move to reach the corner where he kept his knife, you bend down, putting a hand over the robe, bringing the knife out, him catching a glimpse of your bare thigh. You wave the knife in front of him. "Looking for this?" you taunt, his jaw tightening. He attempts to make a run for it in attempt to tackle you, you point the gun at him before he makes another step. "Don't."
"You wont shoot me." he was right, not when the house is full of staff and a ton of surveillance. "You want to test it out?" You mock his words, turning the safety off, you wont do anything, but you have to make him scared somehow. "Nice room you got." you say, eyes roaming around his space, nodding to yourself. "Nice clothes, too." You smile, referring to the robe you're wearing, along with the mask standing on the top of your head. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks, finally breaking his silence. "Why did you want to kill me?" you ask back, lowering the gun down, arm being tired. He scoffs, "Well, I didn't, so.." He says and you notice how he lowers his head, avoiding your gaze, almost like he's flustered about it.
"Yeah, because you're a pussy." You decide to push further, curious if he will snap again. "Nah, got distracted by one." he smirks, you cant believe him, making jokes about it? He's not letting you get under his skin again. "That doesn't answer my question." You raise your voice, pretending to ignore the tension, your mind reminding you of everything. "Yeah? Answer me this, why did you let me, huh?" He steps closer and you tighten the grip of your gun and knife, pointing at him lowly, enough to warn him. "Because I had no choice!" You practically shout, tears in your eyes dripping down, you had held this in long enough, he really did ruin you. "Exactly! So why did you come here, huh? You had two choices then and you have two choices now, choose." He catches you off guard, you did, this was in your hands. You knew this, if you came here, you had two options, and you know what you want.
You slam the gun and knife on the nearest surface, closing the gap to reach him, hands palming his cheeks, pulling him in for a bruising kiss, making the mask fall from the impact. He reacts on the second, kissing you back, sliding his tongue in and biting your bottom lip, he wanted this as much as you did. He glides his hands over your back, then hooking them around your inner thighs, hoisting you up. He throws you on his bed, making you gasp, you were too fazed out. He leaned down, removing the shoes you still had on and scrunching the robe up, removing it off your body in one quick motion. His hands immediately found your bare skin, removing each bra strap from your shoulder as you reach your hands from behind to unclasp it, throwing it somewhere in his room. He raises an eyebrow and you look down, the bag of coke you previously stole from him landing on the mattress, right next to you.
He grabs the bag and chuckles to himself, looking at you. You roll your eyes, "You tried to kill me." You shrug and he full on laughs, shaking his head, he places the bag on your stomach and continues. He brings his hands up and lowers his head, lips closing on your nipple, sucking and biting it, making you wince in pain and in pleasure while his other hand wondered lower until it reached the band of your panties, tugging them down. You drag your nails on the hem of his shirt, whining in need to feel him. He chuckles, leaving your bruised nipple with a loud pop as he hovers over you, peeling over his shirt, your hands roam over his hardened pecks, gliding lower until you palm over his hardened cock under this thick jeans. He sucks in a breath, letting his head fall forward, enjoying the relief, slightly moving his hips, seeking for more friction. He pulls away, lowering his head, spreading your thighs apart, sliding a thumb left and right over your wet entrance. You whine in pleasure, hips jerking upward at the sudden contact. "You're dripping." He says, looking up at you as he rubs small circles just under your clit. He removes his hand, reaching over for the small bag on your stomach, opening it and forming a small line with the content inside. "Don't move." He orders, lowering his head, sniffing the white powder. He draws his tongue out, looking over at you as you watch the remaining powder disappear just under your bellybutton, making you wither in excitement.
He plants kisses over your abdomen, stopping teasingly just over your clit. "Rafe.. please..." You finally speak up, propping yourself on your elbows, looking at him with pleading eyes. He grins, drawing his tongue out again, finally licking a stripe where you wanted, making you gasp in pleasure. He continues to suck and lick over your clit, making your juices spill down his chin. You grind your hips in pleasure, seeking more friction. When he notices you gripping his bedsheet, he resigns, pulling back his head. You whine at the loss of contact and he chuckles, amused. He hovers over you, bringing your lips to a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. You reach your hands to unbuckle his belt, along with the button and the zipper, pulling them down. He breaks the kiss, removing his pants and boxers in one swift move. Your hands reach over to this throbbing cock, spreading the precum on his swollen tip with your thumb in small, slow circles. He groans, lowering down to kiss you again. He pulls away completely, panting from being so close already. "You're gonna be the death of me." he murmurs, holding the base of his thick cock on his hand, positioning himself, bottoming out in a quick second. The massive stretch makes you grip your hand on his shoulder, biting your lip so hard you almost draw blood. He starts moving his hips in a brutal pace, grabbing your thighs and putting your legs over his shoulder, hitting deeper inside you. You let out a loud moan, careless of who's going to hear you, making him smirk. Your back arches as his pace grows faster and harder, pounding inside you relentlessly. "Ra-Rafe im-"
"Yeah? Cum on my dick, be a good girl." his raspy voice cuts you off, grabbing your face with his hand to make you look at him as your orgasm finally hits, your back arches, walls tightening around him as he forces himself to hold on longer, still moving to ride out your orgasm. You come down, panting and releasing the death grip on his sheets. He pulls out of you inch by inch. "Ride me." he orders and you prop yourself on your elbows, ready for whatever he gives you. You switch around and he places his hands around your hips, about to help you lower down until you look to your side, eyeing the bag of coke that fell down your stomach from the previous harsh movements. You open it, placing a small line on his chest. He smirks, using his hand to grab your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you lower your head, repeating the same action as his. Looking up at him as you lick the powder on his hard chest. He mutters a curse under his breath, pulling your hair back. "Ride me, now." he orders again and you smirk, his bossiness making you wetter again by the second. He holds the base with his hands, aligning it with your entrance as you slowly push yourself down.
You are still not used to the stretch, your walls clamp around him immediately and you let out a whine as you sink down lower, still not even being halfway there. You start to move your hips in small rolls, attempting to take more as your thighs shake the deeper you reach. "Aw, you're struggling?" he mocks you, pushing down on your hips purposely, earning another moan from you as he pushes two more inches inside and you struggle to make yourself move. You bounce up and down in slow movements and he brings his hips up, matching your strokes. He takes over, bottoming out in one thrust, leaving you a moaning mess, unfamiliar with this fullness. Your body hovers lower, taking in his intense gaze while grinding your hips, the pressure overflowing your entire body as you force yourself deeper in him with each roll. He brings his hands lower, smacking the flesh of your ass, making you wince. It hurt so good, yet you were already so close.
"You're fucking squeezing me." he grunts, gripping both cheeks with his hands as he grinds you faster, you scratching his shoulder in response. You move faster, hitting that spot perfectly, the coil in your stomach about to snap as your walls flutter around his throbbing cock. Moans and whimpers spilling out of you louder in response. "Fuck- oh my, shit I'm gonna cum." you choke out, tears forming on your eyes from the pleasure. He doesn't stop, he brings his hips up, dragging his cock to ram inside your dripping cunt. "Yeah? My little slut couldn't forget about me, told you i would ruin you." he groans, his hands tight around your flesh, enough to leave bruises. His words, make your stomach flip, pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm rips out of you, your legs shake uncontrollably, your back arches, guttural moans filling his room, your liquid running over his thick cock as he plunges inside you, fucking you through. His jaw tightens as you squeeze around him, furrowing his brows as he loses himself, thrusts going sloppier, messier, until you feel it, the thick ropes of cum filling you, dripping down his thick shaft. "Fuck, holy shit." he rasps, slamming his hips in a brutal pace, the thickness dragging inside you, making you wither in pleasure even after you just came down from your high. He slows down, dropping his hips down, still buried inside you, both of you a panting mess. The sheets below and your thighs are soaked, sticky with your contents. He pulls out slowly, grabbing your hips and lifting you up, making you bite your lip from the sudden contact. You get off him, his cock springing out as you hover over him, still catching your breath. You lower down, bringing him into a messy, lazy kiss, tongue drawing over his bottom lip, he's right, he fucking ruined you, in the best way possible.
