#ghostface sam

Ever since Tara first dragged you along to their apartment Sam's kept a close eye on you. It was disconcerting at first, when she always glared at you, nitpicking your every move and asking probing questions. You never hesitated to answer in fear of her throwing you out and never letting you anywhere near close to them again.

But then, as weeks went by, her hovering turned from suspicious to protective, almost overbearing at times. You took it in stride, welcomed it, even. You've never had anyone care about you the way she does.

"Can we finally talk about it now?" Mindy asks, warily eyeing Sam. "I know you said before that the murders have no connection to us, but now it's a little too close to home, don't you think?" She looks at you for backup.

You bite your lip. "I don't know, Mindy…"

"What about the guy that wouldn't leave you alone? Cole?" Chad butts in.

You blink, confused. "What about him?"

Tara looks at you, narrowing her eyes. "He was stabbed about a month ago."

You gulp, pushing back against the cushions. "I didn't know that."

Now that you think of it, you realize he stopped bothering you a long time ago, practically disappearing from campus.

Sam stays uncharacteristically silent, her eyes boring holes into the TV and her hand slithering lower to settle on your thigh, absentmindedly circling her thumb on your skin.

Quinn finally looks up from her phone, chewing on the stick of her lollipop. "Why are you so worked up about this? It's New York, people get stabbed every hour."

Silence falls over the room, everyone turns to look at the unbothered girl.

Anika is the first to break silence. "Quinn, use your brain."

"No, she's right." Sam speaks up for the first time. "It's a big city and we don't even know if it's Ghostface."

The older girl gets up, patting your thigh one last time and goes back to the kitchen.

You exchange worried looks with Mindy, who looks equally dumbfounded as you feel.

"What just happened?" Tara whispers, looking like her world flipped upside down.

You sink deeper into the cushions, frowning in thought.

"Can we finally get drunk now?" Quinn gets up to pour herself a shot of vodka, ruffling your hair as she passes by you. "Join me, cute girl?"

You think you hear something fall in the kitchen, but you are not too sure.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. You stick with Quinn, feeding on her laid back attitude and easy smiles, all worries thrown into the deepest part of your mind. Ethan gets embarrassingly drunk and tries to cuddle Mindy, throwing them both over the back of the couch. Chad and Tara disappeared in her room a long time ago and Sam's been brooding all night, sending you long looks over the rim of her glass and eyeing Quinn's hand on your shoulder.

You get up when the clock strikes midnight, ready to head home.

"What are you doing?" Sam asks.

You stagger. "It's late. Time to go home."

"You're staying here tonight." She says, and you don't have the time to object, before she's clapping her hands, startling everyone in the room. "Ethan." She looks at him, cocking her head towards the door. He hurriedly scurries away, blurting out goodbyes as he disappears out the door.

She turns to look at the cuddled pair. "Anika? Mindy?"

One of them grumbles, you think it's Mindy. "We'll go. Sleeping on this old thing leaves me sore for days. You'll have to go and get Chad though." She smirks, biting her lip in anticipation.

Sam just sighs and goes to Tara's room, making sure to be as loud as possible when she approaches the door.

"Looks like you'll get some after all," Quinn whispers with a suggestive smile.

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "Yeah, I'll get my ass whopped."

"I mean, if you're into that…" she chuckles, and nudges you with her shoulder, before disappearing in her own room.

Mindy and Anika linger by the door, waiting for Chad. You bite your lip and look at the door, considering.

And then someone slaps the back of your head. "Don't even think about it," Mindy hisses, her eyes darting in the direction of Tara's room.

You roll your eyes and step away from her reach, leaning against the wall. Chad emerges a second later, looking reprimanded. Mindy snickers at the look on his face. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising to meet up tomorrow after classes. Sam drags you to her room as soon as the door closes behind them. You eye her warily and take a seat on her soft bed, waiting as she gathers herself.

You hoped she'd forget about the night before by now, but, evidently, the news and the time she spent glaring at the back of your head only egged her more.

"Sam?" You whisper, your fingers clenching around her soft blanket.

She looks at you, her eyes flash as she starts walking to you. "You'll stay here from now on. No more parties. No more walking alone at night. You won't leave this apartment without me," she bites out, taking a step closer with each word.

She's directly in front of you now and you have to strain your neck to look her in the eyes. "Sam this is rid-"

You swallow your words when her hand comes up to your neck, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, a tip of her finger dipping under the fabric to stroke your bruised skin. She leans dangerously close to your face, her breath fanning over your burning cheeks.

"You'll stay here, with me," she whispers, her lips brushing against yours. "Say it."

You lose yourself in her eyes. She's looking down at you, unblinking, her brows furrowing more and more with each passing second.

You decide not to test your luck.

"I'll stay here, with you." Your eyes fall shut.

"And?" She tucks your hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering below your jaw, cradling your face.

"I'll-" you take a deep breath, "I won't go anywhere. Not without you."

She relaxes instantly, tension seeping away from her body, and pulls away, leaving you to tremble on her bed. You open your eyes to see her rummaging through her closet, pulling out various t-shirts and looking them over before settling for an oversized dark green one.

You pull the blanket over your lap, hunching in on yourself as you try to slow your heartbeat, rubbing your chest. You sit in silence as she changes into her sleeping clothes, your eyes trained on the few pictures pinned to the wall over her dresser. There's two with her and Tara, one with Chad and Mindy, presumably at her birthday party, and one with you, sneakily taken by Anika during one of your picnics. You smile at the picture, noting the content look on Sam's face and the curl of her lips as she gazes down at you sleeping soundly on her lap.

"Here," she says, giving you only a shirt, and elaborates at your questioning look, "my pants will be too big on you."

You nod, and ask her to turn around. She does so with a shake of her head, settling on the right side of the bed while you shuffle out of your clothes, folding them neatly over the back of a chair. You freeze when you catch a glimpse of the bite marks littering your neck and shoulders in the mirror, quickly pulling her shirt over your head.

When you turn around Sam is already looking at you, her eyes sliding up and down your body, lingering on the bruise on your throat.

Your face burns and you quickly jump under the covers, facing the wall. She doesn't say anything, just reaches over you to turn off the light, her hand settling over your waist before she pulls you into her chest and nuzzles her nose on the back of your neck, wishing you a good night.

×××

"So… you and Sam?" Tara asks two weeks later, walking by your side in the cafeteria, fidgeting with a bottle of water.

You sigh at Tara's not so subtle prying. "It's just Sam being Sam."

When you woke up that morning, nestled in the crook of Sam's neck while she gently nudged you awake, you could've sworn you were in heaven.

But as it turned out, when she said she wouldn't let you leave anywhere without her, she meant just that. You don't think there was a moment you've spent without her by your side, she is always lingering somewhere around you even if it was just the two of you in the room, and whenever you're in a crowded area she never lets you out of sight, making sure to have at least one point of contact between you two.

And then there's her touches. It's almost like she needs her hand around you to properly function. It doesn't matter who's around, she'll pull you against her without a care, holding you possessively when a stranger stares at you for too long, or going as far as to leave soft pecks down your neck when she helps you reach for something on the top shelf.

It's been bearable before, when you could find reprieve in your apartment after a day spent in Sam's presence, but now she's around you 24/7 and you're not sure you'll be able to endure this sweet torture much longer.

The fact that she shuts you down every time you try to talk about it doesn't help either.

Tara stops and pulls you to the side, pinning you down with an unimpressed look.

"She doesn't spend that much time hovering over me and I'm her sister. And besides, I've seen the way you look at each other. Kinda makes me want to throw up," she says, rolling her eyes.

You take a moment to respond, carefully choosing your words.

"Well… Get a bucket, I guess," you smirk at her offended look, shielding your head when she throws her water bottle square in your face. "Ow! Bitch. I was joking."

"Jokes are meant to be funny," she grumbles, pulling you to the farthest table.

Anika and Ethan are already there, engaged in a heated discussion about the newest installment of his favorite game, the curly boy getting so passionate he accidentally sends his coke flying over your shirt just as you approach them.

"What is it with me getting targeted all day today?" You groan, prying the wet shirt away from your body, and grimace at the stickiness on your stomach and between your fingers.

Tara snorts, sending Ethan a look of approval. "Good job, new guy."

Ethan, for his part, looks like he's ready to die from embarrassment. His chair squeaks against the floor as he stands up, grabbing some wet wipes from his backpack, and starts hurriedly wiping at your shirt. "I'm so sorry! I don't know how that happened…"

You awkwardly inch away. "It's okay," you mumble, taking his wipes and trying to clean the shirt yourself.

It's not okay. You feel gross and the smell is already starting to make you feel nauseous, so you double your efforts, sitting down with a huff.

"Here, take this," Ethan mumbles, taking off his hoodie, "it's a bit big, but it's better than nothing, right?"

You chew on your bottom lip, considering your options.

Sticky shirt or Ethan's hoodie.

You decide on the lesser evil.

He hands it to you with a small smile, and apologizes again, muttering something about clumsiness and genes.

Anika grabs it from him before you could reach out, and stands up. "I'll help you clean up, come on."

You follow her down the hall to a secluded restroom. She checks the stalls before locking the door behind you and tugs you to a sink. You put away your bag and start tugging at the hem of your shirt, trying to keep it away from your hair. You feel another pair of hands help you when you almost get stuck. Breathing out in relief when you're finally free from the confines of your coke scented shirt, you turn to look at Anika.

"Thanks," you smile at her and reach for the paper towels.

You quietly work on wiping away the stickiness, wetting the towels in the sink and rubbing your stomach clean, shifting uncomfortably under Anika's scrutinizing gaze.

You throw your ruined shirt in the garbage bin in the corner, reaching for Ethan's sweatshirt when you come back to stand in front of the mirrors.

"Are you really not worried?" Anika whispers, fixing your hair when you pull the garment over your head. You can't help but notice the scent of Ethan's cologne, it prickles your nose, and you keep in a grimace, already too used to the smell of Sam's detergent surrounding you at all times.

"About what?" You ask absentmindedly, picking up your beg.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. "The killings."

Your heart skips a beat at the quiet question. You look up to meet her worried eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she fiddles with a loose thread of her blouse. You can't help but pull her into a hug.

"Nothing will happen to any of us, I'm sure," you say with as much conviction you can muster.

In reality, you've spent the last few weeks in a constant state of uncertainty, looking over your shoulder at every corner and holding onto Sam whenever someone suspicious approaches you. You haven't told anyone about what happened that night, and you don't think you ever will. You can't even begin to imagine what they'd think of you if they ever found out. You're sure you'd lose your friends. You're sure you'd lose Sam.

So you stayed quiet, only allowing yourself to look back on the memory when you were alone, locked in the bathroom. Constant reminders about previous victims from Mindy made you realize that the woman behind the mask saved you and your friends more times than you can count. That night she saved you.

You don't know what to make of it, other than you'll never allow it to happen again.

Sam is the only one you want.

Anika grips your shoulders, nodding. "You're right. I don't know why I'm freaked out. It's just… it's never been like that before, you know..?" She trails off and you nod.

You do know. New York is not the safest place in the world, but it was never that dangerous before a certain group of people moved to the city. You know it's not a coincidence, no matter how much you wish to be proven wrong. You've been keeping up an unbothered facade, borrowing some of Tara's nonchalant attitude, but in the darkest corner of your mind you know that everyone around you is doing the same thing. Pretending.

Expect, maybe, Sam.

She's solid and self assured, her words never waver the way Tara's sometimes do, she never jumps at loud noises like Mindy does, and she never spends a moment too long staring into the dark corners of the street like Chad does. It gives you strength.

"Everything will be fine." You pull away to look her in the eye. "And if anything happens we stick together, okay?" You take her hand in yours and interlock your pinkies in a silent promise.

×××

"Is that… Ethan's hoodie?" Chad asks, squinting at you from the couch.

You sigh and trudge to Sam's room, leaving Tara and Anika to explain the situation for you. The day dragged on for way too long leaving you positively exhausted, you can't be bothered to retell the highlight of Tara's day to her not-boyfriend. Ethan's great and all, but his choice of cologne could've been much better, the smell so strong it gave you a headache.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

You jump up at the confused voice, your hand flying up to rest on your chest, right over your hammering heart.

"Jesus, Sam. I thought you were still at work," you mumble, avoiding her eyes.

You continue your way to the closet, tensing when the bed squeaks as she gets up, and then you feel her tug at the hem of the hoodie, turning you around.

"It's not yours. And it's not mine either." She's starting intently, her eyes darken. "You definitely didn't put this on in the morning. Where were you?"

Your lips purse at the scowl that took place on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted to the side. You hate the way it makes you even more attracted to her.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," you say.

For a second she looks like she wants to argue. Her jaw clenches, but she takes a step back.

"No, you don't." She says it like she regrets the fact.

Sometimes you feel like she can't control herself at times, letting her darker side take hold, acting like she owns you, and she tries very hard to make up for it in the moments of clarity, paying extra attention to your expressions, making sure you are comfortable with her constant hovering.

In truth, all you really want is for her to actually make you hers.

You sigh, reaching into the closet for a change of clothing. "It's Ethan's." You decide to explain. You don't see the way her fists clench. "He spilled his coke all over my shirt, so we had to improvise."

The answer seems to settle her. She sits on the bed, leaning back on her hands, watching you rummage through your clothes.

"It doesn't suit you," she mutters at last.

You chuckle and stop yourself from reaching for your shirt and take Sam's one instead. She doesn't comment on the choice, but her smile tells you everything you need to know.

"Come here," she says, patting her thighs.

You stop in your tracks, your mouth falling open at the sight of her waiting for you on the bed. "I really need to shower, Sam."

"Please."

You hesitate only for a second before sitting down sideways over her lap, your arms circling her shoulders, her hands settle on your hips, toying with the hem of the shirt.

You want to burrow into her and never let go.

"Can I take it off?" she asks, her eyes flickering down to your lips.

The question makes your breath hitch. You'll never get used to the way she makes you feel. You hide your face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her perfume, your fingers threading through her soft hair.

Her fingers sneak past the fabric, resting on the soft skin of your lower back. "Please," she whispers against your temple. "Let me take it off." She presses a gentle kiss to your hairline.

Your body goes limp in her hold and you nod, untangling yourself from her.

She exhales through her mouth and swiftly pulls it off, leaving you in your bra, and carelessly throws it to the floor. She takes you in, her hands hovering over your sides.

You don't think you're able to endure her tiptoeing around you any longer, so you take them and lead them to your breasts. She cups you eagerly, squeezing you over the lace of your bra.

You barely manage to keep in a moan when her finger brushes against your nipple. She inhales sharply, and places her thumbs over your hardened buds, swiping. Your thighs squeeze involuntarily, and you adjust on her lap, desperate to find relief.

"Sam," you whimper.

One of her hands reaches up to wrap around your neck, the feeling so familiar it makes you freeze. Your eyes fall shut when she squeezes your neck, her breath falling hot against your ear as she whispers, "Look at me."

Suddenly, the weight of her hand feels suffocating. Suddenly, you're no longer in her room, but on the floor of your living room, pinned down by a stranger.

Your eyes blink open just in time to see Sam tilt her head, the glint in her eyes almost predatory.

You shake your head and jump away from her touch. She tries to stop you, but you're already in the bathroom, closing the door in her face. You fall to the floor right then, your knees hitting the hard tiles. The door rattles once, then twice. You can't move, shaking on the cold floor, rubbing your chest to calm your rapid heart.

It all felt too familiar. The feeling of strong muscle under your thighs, nimble fingers teasing your heated skin, her hand on your throat, squeezing.

Her fucking voice, asking you to open your eyes and look.

Could it be..?

Your vision blurs.

"Open the door, Y/n." Sam's voice is awfully quiet and unsure, like she's afraid of what she's about to face.

"Was it you?" You ask, afraid to hear the answer, your voice so quiet you're not even sure she heard you.

"Just open the door, please," she begs. You can hear the strain in her voice.

You shake your head again.

You don't know what to think. Maybe it's some fucked up coping mechanism your brain came up with to make it easier for you to accept the fact that you willingly let a murderer fuck you.

For a fleeting moment you think that if she was the one wearing the mask that night you'd be okay with it. You'd welcome it.

You take a deep breath and get up to open the door, hesitating only for a second before turning the knob.

Sam stays on the other side, watching as tears trail down your face. The shakiness of your hands when you wipe them away wakes her up from her stupor, and she throws herself at you, holding you tight.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "I don't know what's gotten into me."

She inhales sharply, tightening her grip on you. "It's okay. You're okay."

She holds you like you might break or run away, clinging to you desperately. You stay like this for a long time, basking in her warmth. Eventually, she takes a step back and opens the faucet, letting the tub fill with the hot water, before she takes off her clothes, throwing them in a pile on the floor. You watch her undress, falling back and gripping the sink behind you when she's left in her underwear, leaving her defined muscles on full display. You audibly gulp at the sight, your thighs clenching, reminded of wetness pooled between your legs. Next thing you know, she's unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them down after your nod of consent.

You let her take off your underwear, watching her take labored breaths, her chest heaving. There's no color in her eyes, only black of her pupils. She wastes no time in throwing away her underwear, and stepping in the tub, pulling you along.

You sit between her legs, your back pressed against her chest as she litters the back of your neck with kisses, her hands gliding up and down your sides, not daring to dip lower. Your head falls on her shoulder and she finally places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, eliciting a quiet whimper from you.

She reaches to the side, and lathers her hand, pushing you away to grant more space. She gently rubs your skin, washing away the exhaustion of the day, her hands slide up and down your back, then to your stomach, before they finally find home over your breasts.

"Feels good?" She breathes against your ear, and bites down gently. You moan audibly, your nails digging into the skin of her thighs.

You fall back against her when she tugs your nipple, making your hips jerk. She places a kiss under your ear and continues her ministrations on the rest of your body, leaving one area unattended.

You catch her hand when she tries to settle it on the rim of the tub, leading it to the dip between your thighs, where you desperately need her. Her other hand grips your hip hard enough to leave a bruise.

You settle your fingers over hers and lead her down. She cups you gently, spreading your lips before teasing your entrance, her thumb ghosting over your clit. You tug her head down, whining into her mouth. She crashes into your lips, not wasting any time to dart her tongue inside.

She circles your slit with two of her fingers, but before she can dip inside, the door shakes with forceful knocks.

In reality, recent news of Ghostface attacks should've kept you locked at home, preferably with sharp objects by your side, but Tara practically begged you to join her at the party, claiming she needed someone to keep her company since she didn't want to third wheel Mindy and Anika, and follow Chad around while he's trying to find Ethan a girlfriend, so you quickly agreed, feeling the need to let loose after months spent panicking about the killings.

The killings that somehow always revolved around Blackmore ever since they transferred there.

You tried not to think too much into that, but soon enough Mindy deemed you trustworthy and gave you a quick, but intense dive into their story. You understood it all a bit better after that.

And installed a security system.

So yeah, you needed that drink, a couple of them, actually.

"Hey." You get her attention and pull at her hand, but she resists. "It's time to go." You say, watching the way she's blinking slowly, heavily leaning on the arm of the asshole.

"I'm fine. You can go, don't wait for me." She giggles and tugs him up the stairs.

You stop for a second to take a deep breath before following them. Her palm is sweaty in your hand when you tug her back, catching her as stumbles down the stairs.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" She groans, trying to pry away.

"Yeah, what the fuck?" The asshole pushes you against the wall, leering over you before he's sent flying down with a precise punch to his jaw.

"Sam, are you insane?" Tara shouts over the loud music and marches away with a huff when her sister sends her a seething look. You make a move to follow her, but sag back against the wall when you see Chad hot on her heels.

Your attention is pulled to the older woman when you feel gentle fingers cup your jaw. "Are you okay?" Sam asks, her eyes flickering all over your face. Your chest tightens and you fight the urge to lean into her soft palm and press kisses all over her fingertips.

You sigh, nodding. "You got here just in time."

There's a groan coming from the floor and Sam snaps her eyes back to the man, her expression darkening as she makes a move to him.

You get in her way, catching hold of her wrists before she could move any further. "Let's just go, okay? He's not worth it."

Her jaw clenches and you can clearly see the debate that's happening in her head.

"He was going to hurt Tara. He hurt you." She snarls, her eyes trained on the whimpering man.

"And you stopped him. Let's go check on Tara, okay?"

She relents, begrudgingly, and dutifully follows you outside.

The fight between the sisters is anything, but pretty.

You really don't want to stay to see the rest of it, so you wave Mindy over and tell her your uber is waiting around the corner. She looks skeptical for a second, but then there's mentions of therapy and her attention is pulled back to the fight as she mutters something about calling her when you get home safe.

You nod and quickly disappear around the corner, happy to delay the inevitable confrontation. Sam might've been worried at the party, but it doesn't mean she won't chew you out as soon as she's done with Tara. You just hope she won't be as angry tomorrow.

Luckily you live not far away, so you're not even worried, whistling some tune as you make your way home, your eyes dropping slightly from alcohol and exhaustion. Sober you would've thought it to be way too fucking dark and creepy to be walking alone down the alley to your apartment complex, but you're tipsy on tequila and tequila always makes you a little too reckless, so you throw caution to the wind and continue your way.

And then you see something out of the corner of your eye and freeze, when you realize that a man just turned to follow you down the alley. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see him pull out something shiny from his pocket.

You start moving faster, almost jogging the rest of the way and turn around before rounding the corner.

The man is gone.

You make it up the stairs in record time considering your wobbly knees, and sag against the door once you're finally safely inside.

It's nearing midnight, you note, sending Mindy a quick text before making your way to the bathroom. You are tired, but not tired enough to wake up feeling gross after a night out, so you take your time under the hot stream, washing away the smell of alcohol and weed.

And then you hear something fall in the kitchen.

You frown and step out of the shower, drying yourself in the process. You open the door and peek outside, barely breathing to make sure you don't miss anything strange.

When nothing happens again you sigh, wrapping the towel around your still wet body and go to the kitchen to investigate. If your pan fell from its hook again you'll have to ask Chad to come over and fix it for you.

You freeze when you see it swinging from side to side on the hook, clutching at your towel as you turn around to grab your phone, only to run into a solid, cloaked form.

"Hello, Y/n."

You barely register the distorted voice before you're being yanked by your hair and pushed against the counter, a knife flashing in your line of vision.

"Your parents didn't tell you not to walk alone at night? Especially when there's a serial killer on the loose." They continue, pressing the edge of the knife to your neck.

You look up at the Ghostface mask. Dread fills your chest and you shake in their hold, eyes filling with tears while you think of a possible escape, but your body goes numb and your mouth won't open, so you just stand there, gaping at the imposing figure.

"Pathetic little thing." They growl, before placing the knife against your chest and slicing your towel away.

You blink when it falls at your feet, and the sight suddenly spurs you into action.

You grab the pan from behind you and swing it hard against the intruder, but they easily avoid it, catching your arm in an ironclad grip and turning you around to press you against the cold countertop. You hiss through gritted teeth and throw your heel as hard as you can against their kneecap, sending them tumbling to the floor in a heap of black fabric.

You don't get a chance to run too far when they catch your ankle, making you fall face first on the floor. You're turned on your back before weight settles on your hips.

"Maybe not so pathetic," the voice sounds almost pleased before they pin your hands above your head.

You're suddenly all too aware of your state of undress when you feel their eyes on you. You try to squirm, but they don't budge, the Ghostface mask tilting as they look you up and down.

You grow embarrassingly red in the chest, trying to think of something, anything to distract the murderer from you, but you're not sure there's anything good enough to get their eyes off you at the moment.

"Who's blood is that?" You blurt, eyeing the knife on the floor.

They tilt their head to the other side. "Not yours."

You suck in a sharp breath, wincing at your stupidity.

"Okay…" you whimper, closing your eyes, "are you going to kill me?"

They pick up the knife and raise it over your chest before lowering to trail the blade over the skin of your breasts.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"I would've killed you by now if I wanted to," they say and release your wrists to take hold of your neck, not squeezing, just resting fingers on the tender skin of your neck.

The gesture sends shivers down your spine.

"Aren't you pretty like this?" The knife point barely grazes your nipple and you bite your lip, stifling a whimper. You push against their shoulders, digging your nails into the robe as you try to keep them away, squirming in their hold.

"Let me go, please." Your whispers turn desperate when their fingers squeeze around your throat, making it hard to breathe. "Please, I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

You nod feverishly, not trusting your voice.

They pull away, the weight on your hips completely disappears when they shift to sit to your side, trailing the blade down to your belly button.

"Then we'll play a little game." They chuckle and you open your eyes, waiting for them to continue. "You're going to spread your legs for me. If you're wet, I'll do whatever I want to you. If you're not, I'll leave."

You stop breathing altogether, suddenly hyper aware of the wetness pooling between your thighs. You shift unconsciously, edging away from the Ghostface in hopes of escaping before they inevitably notice your arousal. You're shaking, your sole focus on the person that made you tremble with a few simple touches.

You don't know what you feel more, repulsion or arousal, but then their fingers wrap around your jaw and you know you don't have time to debate your feelings.

You have to do something, and you have to do it fast.

"Don't even think about it," they growl, getting dangerously close to your face.

In a flash, they have you on their lap, legs spread on either side of their hips as they push you down hard against their thigh. You moan loudly, rocking your hips against their dark pants, leaving a trail of wetness.

"Fuck," you whimper, clawing at their shoulders, "please…"

They slap your thigh, stopping your movements with a heavy grip of your hip bone. "Please what? Please stop?"

Your head falls in the crook of their neck as you whine, desperately trying to move.

Fuck this. You'll think about the consequences tomorrow.

"Don't stop." You breath against the mask, tugging their gloved hand up to your neck.

Their fingers wrap around the back of your neck and then you're pushed down on your stomach, your legs bent at the knees and forced apart before they deliver a hard spank on your ass, making you cry out against the hardwood floor.

"Such a slut."

Another spank.

"Whoring yourself out to a stranger, a murderer."

You try to rub your thighs together, your pussy clenching when they land another slap to your reddening ass, the sound echoing through the room. Suddenly, they pull away and there's shuffling of the fabric before a pair of leather gloves lands in front of your face.

Your hips buckle in anticipation.

"Don't get too excited," they chuckle, before landing a palm against your wet center, making your whole body twitch.

You pant, reveling in the feeling of their soft fingers gently soozing the pain, gliding through your folds to settle against your slit. You hold your breath, waiting for them to finally push inside and fuck your brains out when another loud spank echoes through the room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"You look beautiful like this, fuck," they breath out, spreading your lower lips and teasing your entrance, pulling quiet moans out of you.

Your whole body is on fire and you can feel your arousal leaking down your thigh before it's caught by a hot, wet tongue.

"Mhm," the person, a woman, hums and you realize she just threw away the mask with the voice changer in favor of tasting you.

You don't have a chance to say anything when her tongue slides up your slit, lapping at the wetness and dipping down to tease your throbbing clit with the tip of her tongue. Your knees buckle, your body shaking from pleasure. She tugs your head by your hair, pulling you up against her front when you nearly fall, her fingers gliding down your stomach to disappear inside you in one deep thrust. Your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back against her shoulder as she sets up a fast rhythm, her other hand reaching across to play with your breasts.

"Faster-" you whine, burrowing your nose in her soft hair, clawing at her forearm.

She pulls her fingers out and lands another slap on your inner thigh in warning, and turns her head to bite down at the juncture of your neck, making sure to leave a mark.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me," she whispers and you think you recognise the voice, but her fingers on your aching nub feel too heavenly to place it and your eyes are too heavy to listen to the command, so you whine and tug her face back to your neck, moaning when she litters it with wet kisses.

She circles your clit with her thumb so slowly and softly, barely applying pressure before diving back in and curling her fingers inside of you, making you come in two hard thrusts.

×××

"Did you get home safe yesterday?" Mindy asks, nudging you with her knee.

You look up from your book, squinting against the sun, your hand flying up to fiddle with the soft fabric of your turtleneck. "Yeah. I sent you a text, right?"

Mindy groans, falling back on the soft grass and nods, throwing her arm over her eyes. "I called you, though, but you didn't pick up. Got me worried for a second."

You wince, hiding your face behind the book. "Sorry. Fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow."

You don't mention the fact that you don't remember ever going to your bedroom, let alone falling asleep. The last thing you remember from yesterday is Ghostface wrapped around you, taking you apart. You stifle the urge to run your fingers along the fabric that covers your bruised skin. It's really not the time to think about it.

She rolls her eyes before looking over at you. "Lucky you. I really hate you right now."

"What did I do?" You ask, affronted.

She pushes your shoulder, sending you a dirty look. "You should've seen the look on Sam's face when she realized you already left. If she was angry with Tara before, she turned positively livid when she realized you went alone. She wanted to follow you, but Tara intervened, calling her overbearing and overprotective and it got even worse. We had to call an uber because Tara refused to get in Sam's car, and Sam didn't even look at her when she drove off to God knows where."

You put down your book. "She didn't go home?" You asked, tugging at your bottom lip.

"She did, a few hours later and drunk out of her mind," Mindy rolls her eyes, exasperated. "They really should talk one of these days or I'll stab them myself."

You chuckle, but your mind is still stuck on the revealed information. You decide to think about it later when you notice Tara stomping in your direction with Chad by her side. "Hey." She mumbles, still clearly in a bad mood.

You send them a small wave and tune out their conversation, butting in only when necessary and mostly keeping to yourself, trying your hardest to focus on the words in your book and not on the way your whole body aches.

"By the way, I'm kinda grounded so we're hanging at my place tonight." Tara's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you groan, burrowing your face in the book.

Fucking great. You can already feel the headache coming. Sam is going to have a field day and you won't even be able to retaliate while your body is still hyper sensitive from being fucked out of your mind.

Someone pinches your side. "Don't be too sad, Sam promised booze," Chad says, sending you a wink.

You let out a soft laugh, your head falling on his shoulder in the process. He grins, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a bone crushing hug. You sag against his chest, content to bask in the warmth of your friends' company, until you feel someone boring holes into your forehead.

You look up and see Tara's questioning look, her eyes flickering between you and Chad, and you roll your eyes and shake your head at the smaller girl, jokingly pushing him away and standing up to go to your last class of the day.

"You coming?" You ask and she nods, following a step behind you, hesitating to start a conversation.

You sigh. "Tara, you know I have zero interest in Chad."

She runs into you when you suddenly stop, and scrunches up her nose, hiding her eyes behind her hand. "It's not that," she grumbles and snakes her hand around your elbow, tugging you through the crowd. "I wanted to say thank you. You know, for yesterday. I was really stupid."

You look at your friend, your heart squeezing in your chest at the vulnerable look she sends you. "Anytime," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and she finally relaxes.

×××

"My favorite person!" Quinn beams from the couch when you step inside the apartment, holding a bag full of snacks. "Hey there, girlfriend." She presses a kiss to your cheek and takes away the bag, leading you to the kitchen.

Everyone is already here since you were the one to go to the store. Your last class passed without a hitch, and even though Tara kept sending you weird looks every now and then, you figured she was just jealous. That was the main reason why you pushed her in Chad's direction when she tried to join you.

You're more than happy to see them sitting side by side on the small couch, hunched and giggling over something on his phone.

You blush when you notice Sam standing in the corner, leaned over the stove, slowly stirring something in a boiling pot. Even you can admit she looks like shit from the night spent drinking, her hair a disheveled mess and her eyes bloodshot.

"All these snacks and you're still the best one," Quinn smirks, throwing away the paper bag and taking the food to the living room.

You snort and give her the finger.

Sam whirls around with a spatula in her hand and sends a dark glare to the back of Quinn's before looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on her face, taking in your attire, her eyes lingering on your neck.

You stifle the urge to fiddle with your shirt again and curl your hand into fists, nails digging into your palms.

"Y/n." She eventually mumbles in greeting and turns back around to rummage through the fridge.

"Sam." You look around and decide to settle on the counter. "What are you cooking?"

She tenses, the muscles of her shoulders straining under her tank top as she holds her hands in the air, mid way to the fridge. She sends you a look over her shoulder and takes out a bottle of orange juice.

"Pasta. Want some?" She asks like she's just trying to be polite and not actually offering you a meal.

You look down at your feet, your mood dampened by a single sentence. You feel like you deserve the cold shoulder. "I'm good, thanks." You hop off the counter and turn around to leave.

She catches your wrist. "Not so fast."

You try to not pay attention to the way your skin gets hot all over at the simplest touch, fixing your eyes on hers. You think you can drown in their depth.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." You whisper, placing your palm over hers, and gently squeeze her fingers.

Her eyes darken and she looks down at the motion, her lips parting slightly.

You pray she'll let you off easy.

"Y/n, you need to see this." Mindy calls out, gaining your attention.

Sam blinks, her brows furrow. "We'll talk later," she promises and leads you to the living room and tugs you to sit next to her on the soft cushions, her fingers still wrapped around your wrist. You sag against the pillow and focus on the TV.

"Another fatal stabbing happened yesterday just before midnight. A man in his early thirties was stabbed seventeen times…"

"That's your neighborhood, right?" Tara asks, her face a picture of concern. "You always go down this alley."

"Yeah," you gulp, staring at the photo of the man who followed you yesterday.

The grip on your wrist turns almost possessive, and you turn to look at Sam, choking on your breath when you see a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Your chest is starting to feel too heavy, and your breathing becomes labored. Suddenly, you're back at the apartment, with Ghostface pinning your wrists and the blood on the knife now makes perfect sense.

Ghostface wasn't there to hurt you.

She saved you.

___________________________

Do we want a part two?

In the middle of your night routine, you hear a thud somewhere in the apartment. Deciding to investigate, you left your glass of water in the kitchen. Like on autopilot, your feet already dragged you to approach towards the living room, and your gut was right: there was a tall figure that had caught your attention and a smile made its way to your lips with ease.

There stood Sam, in your unlit living room, her dark thick robe pooling by her combat boots and she was taking off the bloody Ghostface mask. Her hair was haphazardly tied up and she's left with her wifebeater tank top and dark sweatpants — bronze skin currently dripping with sweat. Sam had a blank expression on, maybe a hint of bloodlust glint that lingered on her face, which turned you on — imagining how it must've been so good to see her in the act, especially this one.

You spot a few bruises and cuts on her upper body. You already expected this, walking away for a second to retrieve the first-aid kit and mentally taking note to ice some of her bruises later. 

Sam's hazel eyes lit up soon as she met yours, arms opening for a hug.

"Love. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?"

"You too, Sammy." You affectionately murmur and nestled deeper in the embrace and Sam tightens her grip in return. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

There you were with Sam in the small bathroom in your shared apartment. She sat quietly by the closed toilet, her arm brought up to you. Moments like this were your favorite, having to tend her cuts and bruises. There was something about Sam appearing as both vulnerable and vicious post-murder during the ungodly hours.

"Wanna tell me how it went?" You start as you wipe the remaining blood on her skin then you dab the cotton with alcohol feather light. The curiosity was eating you. 

In return, Sam smiles at how your eyes twinkled as you asked, she pulls away slightly, her hold on you moving to your waist to pull you closer in between her legs. The faint smell of peaches and cigarettes immediately filled your senses.

She sighed, "He was all talk. Pissed me off a bit with that foul mouth he got running whenever he saw a woman..." Sam’s grip by your soft waist tightens at some thought, "It made me think of how rude and disgusting he must have been to you, princess. And that angers me so much."

"But you took care of it, I know you did good." you respond with much appreciation in your tone, as if the conversation that had transpired was casually about the weather. Your hands find their way on top of Sam’s hair, your thumb gently caressing through them.

The corner of Sam’s eyes crinkled. "Anything for my baby. He squirmed like a useless pig." 

The cold room was filled with laughter. It was easy to say that the two of you were truly match made in heaven. The person in question was your boss, who thought he was being sly with his provocative comments and uncomfortable staring at you while at work. He was insufferable to say at least. Even the last interaction you had with him was you trying to play along with one of his nauseous comments because God knows given your position, he’ll always have his way.

Sadly for him, he doesn’t even know it'll be his last day to live. 

Because you didn't even have to tell Sam because she was there to witness, right outside your workplace to pick you up and his sleazy gestures unfolded in front of your waiting girlfriend. Your boss just had to outwardly say that ‘he can’t get enough of your good and shapely presence’ within Sam’s earshot.

Now? He's nothing but a fresh butchered meat fed to a bloodlust Loomis.

You left your girlfriend in the bathroom for some privacy. For a few minutes, you heard water running.  To your surprise however, as you plop down to your shared bed, Sam was across you and there was a pensive look on her face as she leans by the door frame. Her hair remains to be haphazardly tied on, her hands a bit wet.

“I wanna try something on you, baby.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What is it?”

“This.” 

Sam retrieves a familiar dagger from her back – it was the one you managed to get your hands on and gave it to her as a birthday present. Back then, you didn’t know yet whether the Ghostface version of her had existed yet; but you did this anyway after she opened up about her previous encounters given by the reputation that precedes her, to provide her with some sort of an easy to carry and hide of a self-defence weapon. With her words and the dagger on her hand, you were confused to say at least.

“I need you to elaborate, Sam.” you ask, to which Sam bit her lip and sauntered towards you. 

"I’m going to mark you with it. Nothing too deep and crazy, trust me. And you can also say no! I promise I won’t be mad. It’s only a thought, baby.”

“Alright.” You exhale, sitting with crossed legs, looking up to her and see Sam visibly becoming relaxed. “But can I ask why you want to do it? I genuinely just want to know your reason behind it. And how…exactly?”

Sam’s eyes softened as her eyes were pierced onto yours, "It’s basically just carving a small thing to your body. I… I want to mark you in a way that’s personal and close to who I am. Also, I want to remember us – this being my first kill for you.”

You understand now, pulling Sam by her thighs who still stood tall in front of you for a hug. The scent of peaches and cigarettes fill your nose once again, it was oddly addicting and comforting. It was distinctively very Sam.

"So, it's about owning me... in your terms?"

“Yes.” she whispered.

You decide to lighten up the mood, “And you’re sure this is your first kill for me? Not my old friend from my hometown?”

Sam frowned, almost not getting get your joke – but soon she heartily chuckles as the realization dawns upon her. There was another case you suspected, an old friend whom Sam felt very territorial over you when you told her that they confessed when you returned home. Suspiciously, they disappeared, but you find out a year later that they only travelled on a spontaneous trip.

“No. But... maybe I almost wanted to.”

You bite your bottom lip and Sam nudges you with her finger by your shoulder, motioning for you to make space for her in the bed. Now she joins you beneath the sheets, standing on her knees, looking down as she’s still towering over you.

“That’s hot.” 

Sam shakes her head and closes the distance between you two, “Only you would say that…” She holds the dagger on her dominant hand, the sharp metal pointed away from you.

The cold night is coming to a close, barely feels like one, as the room starts to become heated. Especially with your girlfriend’s eyes unashamedly trailing over your body, like you were a delicious prey served as a five-star meal just for her.

“And that’s exactly why you love me.” You say with ease, lips now ghosting near hers, feeling her ragged breath increasing. 

"Exactly, baby. No one compares.” 

Sam tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Your face heats up at the gesture. You didn't feel any different around her, like any other day around her you remained to feel safe. Secured. Not even her retelling stories of her vivid killings can even change that. Perhaps, you were as sick as her, but you couldn’t give a single fuck about it.

With an exhale, you give her the green light. 

"Okay baby. I trust you."

A wolfish grin appeared on her lips, changing so quickly like a mere switch. With that sight, a shot of arousal started to stir on your stomach.

"Remember your colors, baby. Say red and we’ll stop immediately. How do you feel right now?" 

The dagger made its presence known as Sam dragged the pointed end on your bare right thigh with slight pressure startled you – not enough to draw blood – yet it was sharp and daunting, completely contradicting the gentleness in her tone. 

"G-green," you stuttered out. 

“Good girl.” Sam says and tilts your chin up using the dagger. “Now strip for me.”

Your breath hitches once again. The lust is heightened as you feel Sam’s piercing eyes on you, watching you wiggle off your skimpy shorts first, eyes following and so attentive to the growing damp spot on your underwear. Her dagger remained on your chin until it was time for you to strip out of her old loose shirt that you chose to wear earlier and Sam audibly groaned when she found out that you weren’t wearing any bra at all, she zones out in the sight. You feel her scoot on the sheets closer to you – to say that she was a big fan of your tits would be an understatement.

“Fucking irresistible,” Sam lets out a groan and starts to busy herself, already moved onto a different agenda – mouth and teeth getting involved as she marks and sucks all over your tits, your skin becoming thoroughly wet and littered with hickeys. For a few minutes she stayed on worshipping your upper body. While it turned you on, the ache in your cunt was also becoming an issue, making you squirm. “That’s already an appetizer and dessert for me, shit, you’re just so good…” 

Now her thighs have your almost naked body trapped,  Sam remains hovering above you as you laid down. You get a closer look of her taut muscles flexing through the wifebeater she wears as she moves, a few scars coming to light on her body. You realize that she’s about to take you while in her post-murder outfit, making you squirm your legs once again trying to find ease in your arousal. She’s still sweaty and sticky but you honestly can’t care any less. Not when you have her sculpted body ready to pounce on you at any moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to shower first?” You joke and her expression didn’t falter.

Sam only smirked. “We were going to change the sheets, anyway. I planned on having you either way for tonight.” Her hot breath was so close, tickling your exposed skin.

Your body felt warmer, opposed to her cold free hand that slightly startled you as she roughly palmed a cupful of your tits, giving it another good squeeze. 

“Fuck…” you moan, her moves to affect you were rapidly increasing.

Sam teased again by her slow hands going for a sharp tug on your nipple. “We’re getting into it, princess.” 

She lowered herself and finally met your lips for a kiss, the slow and softness of a start quickly dissipated as she grew hungry for more. Still kissing you, both hands trying to cup your face, occasionally darting her tongue on your mouth. Sam moved fast and rough, as though she was quenching her thirst and your lips were the only water left for her. You wouldn’t be surprised if your lips actually bruised. You were starting to feel breathless and lightheaded, trying to match her pace and she pulled away to tug on your bottom lip. She swiped it with her tongue for good measure. You don’t feel her close anymore and yet you still tried to chase her lips again, only to find out that she looked smug as soon as you opened your eyes.

“Just for me.” Sam murmurs to no one.

You dazedly acknowledge her, “Yes, only yours.”

“God, If you only know how you endlessly drive me mad...”

Sam had her palm pressed on the mattress, resting on the side of your head. You meet her halfway by having your elbows propped up, carrying your upper body’s weight. Yet, you don’t know how long it’ll last – not with Sam’s mouth leaving open mouthed kisses on your body; from your cheek, affectionate and soft, to your neck where her nose tickled you and mouth that met where your jugular vein rests – lingering to suck and bite. You don’t even try to conceal your moans to your girlfriend’s delight, the sounds loud enough to make her eager as ever. Your eyes roll on the back of your head, immediately lost to the sensation. With the tip of the knife pressed on your plush stomach all at once and scratching you lightly, though lifted quickly, it made your stomach twitch and you whimper.

You feel unbearably soaked, clearly wanting for more. Completely certain that you're damp enough for your Sam to smell your arousal. Your girlfriend smirks in confirmation and when she moves her hip low enough for yours to meet. When you pushed your core closer against your girlfriend's, Sam already has your ass cupped, squeezing your flesh, and it only made you grind hard enough to feel something hard — 

Oh. 

You feel her.

The walls of your cunt started to rapidly clench on nothing. Sam detaches her hips away from you after a little teaser and your fingers make their way to her hair, then caressing on Sam's nape and your girlfriend arches her neck, groaning in response. She moves lower, wanting to give you wet kisses placed on the soft rolls of your stomach which slightly tickled you in the process. You were about to protest, beyond needy, but it seems that Sam has already read your mind.

"Here it comes." 

You take a deep breath and feel the sharp knife moving in ragged curves as Sam draws with it. She pushes it down a few millimeters more on your stomach. You groan in each line she makes, it stings a little as she continues marking.

"Wanna know what I marked, princess?" Sam regains your attention by tilting your chin up to look at her using the knife, you open your eyes, seeing the metal now painted with red specks of blood.

"Y-Yes.”

"It's the first letter of my name. So every time you take a look in the mirror naked, you'll always be reminded that you're nobody else's but mine."

"Oh fu- fuck, fuck!" you whimper, although now you feel turned on more than anything. 

The knife resumes in contact with your freshly marked area again, Sam drags it as if she's tracing it for the second time on your skin. your eyes are screwed shut — you can't explain the sensation, walking in the line between pain and pleasure. It stings yet it's so addicting. You think that a huge chunk of it was maybe because it was Sam doing it with her honeyed voice and dark tunnel gaze onto you.

"You're doing so good, baby." She praises you, voice deeper than ever.

Sam crawls down lower onto you and you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, curious of her next move. The spot now feels wet as you feel your girlfriend licking your fresh wound and you let out a strangled moan in response.

“Oh god!”

When you made eye contact with your girlfriend, her eyes were heavy lidded more than ever. It’s evident even in the room that’s barely lit, only the lamp on, and you see her wet lips tugged in a smirk. The color red is slightly evident from having to sucked off the trail of blood that trickled out of your fresh wound.

Sam meant it when she said that it'll leave a scar enough for you to see even right after this session. In theory, you should be terrified of how precise your girlfriend is with the weapon, but you aren't at all. You are thrilled in reality, as you know that Sam is using a special dagger to brand you, different amongst the one she uses to kill her victims; this one was shorter and unused, not actually meant to kill. For you and only you.

After all, who doesn't like being proved to be her princess and a special exception?

The aftermath of the knife's stinging hasn't left just yet. As you reel into the sensation, you feel the mattress dip and you see Sam adjusting.

“Sit up for me.” Sam orders and you quickly scramble into position, legs folded, facing your girlfriend. “Color?”

“Still green.” you whisper, eyes becoming watery. “Can you please touch me now?”

Sam doesn’t respond. Instead, there was the dagger, the side of it being dragged across your tits down to your pelvis. Your girlfriend had set your underwear aside. You close your eyes again to flutter out the teariness, then something plunges inside of your core. The object feels foreign against your spongy walls and it's coming in fast and intrusive. It makes you moan unadulteratedly loud, heat spreading all over your body. It was the most relief your cunt has received had felt this entire session; evident in the way your wetness seeped more, yet you’re becoming slightly embarrassed of the sloshing sounds that fills the room as the thing continues to move in and out of your flesh. 

"I wish I had recorded this, princess. Look at you taking it all in..." Sam murmurs huskily and her words feel hot on your body.

“Record?” 

Your girlfriend tilts her head, “Maybe next time,” She winks at you.

You’re a putty mess under her touch. Sam finds utmost joy seeing you unravelling into this form, unable to form coherent sentences as she has her way with you. You meet her entranced look – mouth quirked up and eyes more lust filled. As your eyes trail lower over Sam, you notice that your girlfriend’s dominant hand has the dagger’s flat base carefully held – the handle being plunged in and out of your pussy. The bed creaks more.

"Your pussy is so fucking greedy, taking my dagger so good... I can feel you pulsating in it. Maybe I'm gonna fuck you right after then cum inside of you, as a reward, huh?" she changes the angle of the dagger’s handle, pushing deeper and faster into you and you feel yourself leak even more, grasping on her hair. 

"Oh yes! yes! A-anything you want, S-Sam!"

"Knew you'd agree. My princess who's a whiny slut for me," Sam continues her ministrations, hand remaining precise, and you feel her free arm snake around your soft waist, as if she's trapping you. "you're making a mess in the bed, honey. Are you not embarrassed?"

You feel a twinge of embarrassment, realizing you were lost on riding your girlfriend’s dagger alone while she was simply thrusting the dagger’s handle in and out of you, all with ease, looking like a desperate whore while dripping and making a mess on Sam’s hand at the same time as your pussy overflowed with wetness. 

"N-No, because I love being a slut for you," you whisper truthfully, now growing desperate to chase orgasm. "I'm so so close,"

“For me only.” Sam growls in response, making her thrust it more forcefully as if she was actually stabbing. 

You let out a throaty moan and your hands moving so frenzied to alleviate the release by clawing all over Sam's back – anywhere you can reach and balance upon. Sam deliciously grunts at the action.

Like a cold bucket poured down on your then burning body, Sam dislodged the handle completely from your desperately soaked cunt. Now you’re back to clenching onto nothing, the ache between your legs becoming a real challenge for you to hold yourself for much longer.

"No, no, no! Fuck, I was about to cum, Sam..." you complain, feeling sensitive, tears running on your cheeks.

Sam comforts you, cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears away with her thumb. 

"Patience, baby." your girlfriend hushes you and you find her looking completely lost as you are, giving you comfort. She had her free hand sprawled on your lower stomach. "Suck this for me first. Then I'll let you do whatever, baby."

Sam then raises the knife that was glistening off your own wetness from earlier, making your cheeks heat up. Goodness, it’s coated ridiculously with a copious amount of wetness... which you're supposed to suck. Not that you were new to this – sucking something off for Sam – but the thought still makes you a tad shy.

You’re starting to think Sam enjoys humiliating you this much.

"All of it. C'mon, baby, get to work so we can finish you sooner." 

It's affecting Sam so much based on her raspier voice now. You comply with her order, making sure to put on a show; your free hand gripping on her shoulder and lips now on the handle of the knife, sucking all of your wetness that once coated it. You made sure to look directly at Sam's heavy lidded eyes, who was now completely hazy and her mouth open to your delight. You wanted her to lose her mind as much as you did, making sure that your cheeks were hollowed and moaning along the action, even making your tongue twirl around it. Your girlfriend exhales loudly at the sight you presented her.

“Fuck. You’re teasing me back, princess?” Sam tilts her head, questioning you. She discards the dagger, object clanking, and now somewhere on the floor. 

You were more than happy to see that it got onto her. “Just putting on a show for you…”

Sam has enough, having a taste of your arousal as she grabs you for a bruising kiss. She seems to savor it as her tongue gets involved, as though she’s eager to taste her favorite flavor. "My little slut. Still green?"

"Yes."

"Does it hurt?" Sam traces lightly the now marked letter S wound that resides on your lower stomach.

"No," Your girlfriend smiles at your response and you close your eyes. The ache between your legs makes itself known as you squirm over Sam’s touch. You bit your lower lip in frustration. "Want you inside of me now, please, Sammy."

“Okay. I’m going to make you choose,” She looks you straight in the eye, “Do you want to lay down or to ride me?”

A moan already escaped your throat, “W-what would you like?”

“Don’t answer me with a question, baby. I am asking you.” Her voice is deep and stern, waiting for you.

You look at her still completely dressed – unlike you, all bare for her. You start to feel a little conscious so you decide to immediately change that up.

“Want to undress you and ride you.”

You were more than ecstatic, seeing Sam nod in agreement – you absolutely waste no time in removing her wifebeater tank top, sweatpants, and boxers immediately, appreciating all of Sam’s muscular and sweaty glory. It doesn’t help that she’s got a few specks of blood still somewhere on her body, the eroticism of it all is not lost on you. Her tits were hypnotizing and to see it paired with her hard on, makes you lick your lips in anticipation. You start to understand more why your girlfriend loves body worshipping so much, because you feel just the same as her.

Sam was amused at your dazed expression, so lost that she has to snap you to reality by pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Ride me now, pretty girl.” She rasps out and you quickly get on Sam’s lap. Her length is pressed against your stomach, making your breath ragged and she isn’t even inside you yet.

You align yourself onto Sam, who glides her cock first into your wet folds. Your hands were on a deathly grip, squeezing over your girlfriend’s broad shoulder, and Sam is becoming more unrestrained with you. She huffs, snakes her arm by your waist then to your hips – continuing her motions until she is satisfied with how your wetness thoroughly coated her cock. 

“Fuck, I’m going in now, baby…” Sam’s hazel eyes peer over you, searching for any sign of discomfort. She was only met with your lust filled eyes and opened mouth, easily one of her favorite sights when it comes to you. The tip teases your clit making you moan and finally, she pushes inside of you, making you both groan at the sensation. She's big and girthy, even if it’s only half of her cock that was fully in, and your walls were still adjusting to accommodate all of her. Sam understood this, hence her careful movements, afraid of hurting you by accident. 

“Tell me whenever you’re ready, princess.”

You profusely nod your head in appreciation, “Y-yes, shit, give me a minute.”

As your walls were processing her length, Sam soaks in the feeling of being inside of you. It was so warm and comfortable; both of your single nerves felt like it was throbbing and clenching, and by God, the fucking clenching — you were gripping her cock in a way that felt delicious and so par with her possessiveness — the entirety of you, soul and body, are no one’s but hers. It was a feeling that Sam would never get tired of. 

You’re now fully sinked into Sam’s entire length, eyes getting teary in pleasure.

“You can move now,” 

Sam presses a kiss on your cheek and doesn’t waste a minute to move; Both weights being unminded given the position, the bed creaks louder than ever as you ride her. Your pussy is sopping, feeling soaked as a waterfall. In comparison to your throat, it feels dry with all the screaming you’ve done for Sam, already anticipating that you'll sound hoarse later. Maybe you won’t even have a voice to speak at all.

For a split second you think about the complaints you'd get the next day.

But being sunk deep in your girlfriend's cock, the thought vanishes quickly and you’re filled with so much desperation, hips rolling along with Sam's movements — so fucking close. The burning feeling of the cock against your walls soon dissipated, evident with the faster pace, the skin to skin slapping vibrates throughout the bedroom, your sheets are definitely mixed with wetness and stickiness.

One of Sam's hands was steadying you by holding on your soft and plush sides, the other kneading roughly on your tits. When you look at Sam, you see her eyes moving down and up in appreciation, drinking in your sight. you only moan louder as the sensations in tandem were driving you dripping and insane.

"Gonna fill you to the brim and paint your walls white," Sam’s promise vibrates delectably against your neck, the skin to skin slapping resonates louder than ever and she was pulling half and pushing in the whole of her cock in a rigorous motion. You feel helpless and reduced to a piece of dumb moanings.

"Look at you now, baby. fuck I’m gonna breed you. Not a single drop is going to drip out of this pretty pussy. I bet you'll like that, huh?"

"Y-yes, yes, yes!" 

"With the sounds you're making alone, shit, ‘m gonna cum. You're driving me mad, baby,"

Sam’s fingertips were hard and rough in circle motions against your engorged clit. It was enough to drive you to be equally mad as her, you already know that you’ll be driven over the edge. She indeed filled you to the brim, your pussy welcoming all of her now. The knot in your lower stomach finally untangles – which was much deserved – you had cum hard with Sam’s relentless thrusts, and the relief immediately washed over your body. Now you're heaving on your girlfriend’s shoulder, trying to catch your breath, yet she hasn't stopped her actions still. With a few more thrusts and grunts, you feel your girlfriend finally shoot ropes of warm cum inside of you.

"Don't move just yet." Sam moans against your neck, but it's more of a command. you still feel your pussy pulsating like crazy from your high, thinking that Sam is only doing it to ride it out, squeezing all of the cum that both of you have to release. To your surprise, she only picked up the pace and started to thrust her cock onto your pussy once again. 

"F-fuck, fuck, Sam! I'm still sensitive!" You try to slightly push her away by the shoulder.

Sam won't budge, knowing you'd say your safe word if it were the case.

"Shh. I know you can do more, princess,”

Your eyes were screwed shut and your neck thrown back, lost and savoring the pleasure. You feel how Sam's completely using your body for her pleasure, as she pulls almost her entire length out, tip of her cock still in, only to sink all of her suddenly in a fast manner. Your pussy walls were clenching, afraid that you’ll actually grow another type of heartbeat, as the pressure flows deliciously into you. You seep more wetness in the process. With Sam’s unforgiving pace, you can’t even say that you didn’t like that, being responsible for such insane fueled lust, so you let her.

The cum inside of you from earlier was getting messy as it was starting to leak along with the damp of your wetness in the sheets. If Sam's goal was to actually break the bed, you fear that it'll come to fruition as your girlfriend only continues to move her cock in and out rougher and faster than ever.

"These fucking pretty tits… all for me," Sam says in stupor, licking her lips at your sweaty and red figure. She lets her thumb and forefinger roll and tug on your nipple, then meets your mouth open in pleasure to swallow all of your moans.

Your grip on her moves to her tangled hair, barely tied now, tightened and tugging on her scalp to her pleasure. Sam grunts as she meets your hips rolling, now messy and slowly becoming uncoordinated, and gives a final few thrusts. Soon again, a relief washes over you so soon and you feel so full and insanely warm — Sam had just cummed for the second time inside of you and you just released your high as well.

"I told you," Sam huffed out, lips smirking as she looked up at you. "That I was gonna fill you up like crazy. What do you say about me marking you more, with a heart beside my first name letter this time?"

The feeling of the dagger both it’s sharpness and how she plowed it inside of you flashed quickly and familiar, the sensation still fresh. Your pussy throbs at the thought.

"You're insatiable." Sam chuckles at your words, combing your sweaty mess of hair as you whine half-heartedly at the equally messy appearance of your girlfriend’s suggestion. "And so cheesy. Like, a heart? Seriously?"

Although Sam wasn't affected at the jab in the slightest. She raises an eyebrow instead.

She cups your ass closer to her pelvis, as if there remains to be a distance between the two of you. Your cunt couldn’t help it but pathetically clench around her.

"Says the one who won't get off my cock still." Sam cockily retorts at you as she feels you adjust.

"Touché."

You remain in that same position until Sam notices that you're startled as she brushed her thumb against the fresh S wound. 

She exhales and affectionately pats your plush thigh, "Let's get up before another round, princess. We have to clean that mark up, just in case."

You tighten the grip of your thighs now wrapped around her sweaty lower back refusing to get up.

"Don't wanna. I'm comfy in here." 

You make it a point by keeping yourself snug as she's still inside of you and you clench your walls once again on her cock. Every time you do the action, the mixed fluid inside of you gushes even more, making a squelching sound and you drip a little more not only at the sheets, but as well as Sam’s thighs. Sam moans at this, her neck arched as she reels onto the feeling.

"C'mon you little tease. Say, I'll lift you through it?"

You look at her eyes seriously, "you'll stay inside?"

"Yes, doofus."

From a distance, you hear the television. 

Man, 48, was found dead and stabbed twenty-six times, suspect remains unconfirmed but suggests the Ghostface’s brutal pattern….

“I guess no work for me tomorrow…?”

“And more time for me to ruin you. It’s totally a win-win.”

Sam laughs heartily at your joke and you find yourself joining along with her. You pay no mind, letting your girlfriend scoop you with ease as you make your way towards the sink and she takes care of you. It was safe to say it wouldn't be the last time that they'll be playing with the knife. 

(please practice safe-sex!)

"We're going to be alright," Your girlfriend uttered in between her cries for help. "We- we'll be alright, love,"

The flat of the knife was held to your girlfriend's neck. She shivered as it flipped to the knife's spine being pushed - a warning of what was about to come. You sniffled and shook your head.

Ghostface tutted her tongue. "Like Harvey and Rachel? How pathetic you must be. Reassuring (y/n) with your sweet little lies," The voice changer roared the last words with disgust. "I'm sure you have plenty of experience with that."

The redhead courageously looked up to the looming Ghostface. Under the dim light, you see her exhausted and dampened eyelids.

"FUCK you! We've done nothing wrong, we have nothing to contribute to your fuck ass games and dumb movie!" She says through gritted teeth and hoarse voice.

Ghostface tilts their head in wonder.

"Oh, but this isn't about the dumb movies, FUCK those movies." You see Ghostface tighten her grip in the kitchen knife's tang, flipping to its sharp edge. "But you were right about one thing. Your pretty girlfriend right there, hasn't done anything wrong at all."

Your girlfriend was confused by the perpetrator's words. How can she be involved, yet you were absolved?

"What do you mean?"

The heavy swish of the knife soundly makes it way to the air right before the tip of it comes in contact with the redhead's shoulder blade. She shrieks in agony, echoing through the abandoned building. Ghostface doesn't even move their face - even with the mask on, you feel their unwavering gaze over you. she takes another hit on the right side of her shoulder blade, Ghostface makes sure that it was plunged in deep and the blood rushes madly, insides squelching as they twist the knife for good measure.

The concrete crackles under the dense boots as Ghostface saunter their way towards you. Even in her weakest state, your girlfriend pitifully shouts in protest - not wanting you to be harmed.

"You have to witness this, it is the biggest highlight of your night!" Ghostface cheerfully says through the cold and grimly dubbed voice.

"S-shut the fuck up! Don't- don't h-hurt her!"

Her pleads of concern almost melted you. Almost.

Then the perplexed look behind her eyes made you chuckle. You can't stifle it anymore as the joy roared in your lungs. Ghostface joins in your sound of glee, her sharp knife effectively untying you from the brash restraints.

"You've already hurt her, 6 years ago. Poor (y/n/n) didn't have the strength to come to school, all because she feared you and your friends. The humiliation and stress you have put her through..."

"She, she's already forgiven me for that! I-I was under the influence of pressure and fitting in!"

You giggled as you slowly walked, casual and as though in wonder. "So, you were radicalized by these dead friends of yours?"

"I-I'm still confused. (y/n), we talked about this, right love? What's going on?"

Ghostface tilts their head again. They move to grasp your girlfriend's jaw, the edge of the bloodied knife taunting to cut through the skin of her cheek. They laugh mockingly at how the redhead was convinced by her own words. "And yet, you haven't figured it out yet. I'm here to help my girlfriend - (y/n/n) to put an end to the suffering you caused. She was never yours and never will be."

"Welcome to the act three, Quinn." you smirked and Ghostface was undeniably so proud of you.

The aghast look on her face upon realization was priceless. The blood had drained over Quinn's face, close to seeing the light and your reckoning was very unexpected. You were so sweet, an angel, she couldn't believe it...

You had the sweet front view of the Ghostface slitting your girlfriend's throat. It went deep enough for the blood to ooze disturbingly squirt, it didn't help that she soon choked for more cries of help, as the knife wounds to cut the blood vessels that once sustained the redhead's then alive body, completely draining them out.

Sam takes off her currently tainted crimson Ghostface mask, revealing her sweaty yet perfect face. Your fingers thread through her hair as she pulls you closer and you brushed your thumb over Sam's bottom lip, going for a much needed liplock.

It was Quinn's view before her dying breath has finally come.

Sam gently took your hand. "I'm so proud of you." She whispers intimately against your skin.

The desire and admiration between you two was palpable. In a normal person's view, it would be nothing else but simply disturbing.