ghost face ! minho
i was watching scream and i wish minho had me screaming.
-contains mature themes (a little blood, fear play kinda)
"caught you!"
you screamed in terror. the masked man, taking you by surprise from behind. the lights were off and all you could see was that horrendous mask. which kept appearing in your dreams.
you struggled to get up from where you were crouched behind a table. and he had shown up. knowing exactly where you hid.
because he was watching. he was always watching.
stumbling you grabbed a flowerpot, throwing it in his direction. he dodged it. letting out a hearty laugh. you felt your heart stop.
you were backed into a corner.
one side was a wall and the other was the steps that led to the second floor.
if you ran upstairs, then there was no way you could get back down.
"sometimes you make it so obvious" he said, playing with the knife in his hand. pressing it against his hand. you were scared. he pointed upstairs with the tip of the knife.
"go on. run."
and you did. tripping on the steps. it was so dark you couldn't make out where you were going. that was until you ran straight into a dark figure.
"oh honey, you can't escape from me" he said, voice dropping. you felt yourself being pushed against the ground.
hard.
feeling a little dizzy with how fast you hit the floor.
you gave up. if he was going to kill you. then so be it. maybe he'd be kind enough to spare you again.
"l-let me live" you mumbled, feeling a thick rope bind your wrists together behind your back. his black cape running against you as he fumbled about.
"you know, fun fact. i don't kill. i just have fun!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled behind the mask. at times you wished you knew how he looked. you wished you could see his face.
he had told you his name through a phone call. you had to admit. you were braver when you were on call. rather than in reality. because reality was reality.
"you don't seem to sound like you're having fun"
he knew what you meant. his voice sounded like he was faking the fun voice.
"shut the fuck up, will you."
you shivered, going pliant. this was him. his deep voice. his voice that could make you cream yourself.
.
"aaahh-" you cried out, desperately trying to tug your hands free. he giggled, staring right at you.
all you could see was the mask. maybe a little glimpse of his eyes. but that was all you got.
the knife running along the insides of your thighs. a warm liquid dripping down. which he wiped away with his gloved thumb.
"so tell me. you called back today"
your eyes widened. you weren't expecting him to show up inside your house. dressed up, ready to do whatever he liked. if you knew he was going to come back, you wouldn't have called.
"stop crying for god's sake" he shouted.
spanking you hard. you jerked forward with the force. embarassingly trying to close your legs.
his clothed thigh wedged between your legs. fabric rubbing against your cunt in the best way possible.
"humping my thigh, now? you seriously are a horny slut" he let out. his hand playing with your folds. coating you with your own wetness.
.
"look at the camera."
you couldn't. you didn't know what he'd do with those pics. you pressed your face to the cold floor, spit dripping out of your parted mouth.
his dick buried inside of you.
"i. said. look."
he said through gritted teeth, tugging your hair to make you look up. your eyes rolling back at how deep he was. cock rubbing against that spot that had you seeing stars. the flash went off and he let go. your head falling back down.
"such a whore"
a few more tears slipped out. his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts.
"hm" he hummed. a little curiousity in his tone.
"why aren't you saying anything."
you kept quiet. letting yourself get lost in a fuzzy space. it was dark anyways. all you knew about the man who had screwed you once before, was his name.
he flipped you over. taking you by surprise by how gently he pushed back in. staying absolutely still. and you did the same.
"p-please" you muttered. a faint light from the neighbour's backyard lighting up the room. you could vaguely see his eyes through the mesh. his breathing heavy, chest heaving. he rolled his hips against you. a low moan leaving him.
you couldn't do this. you wanted more. to be touched. to feel him. without the mask. to see him.
"please p-please please" you chanted, shaking your head as you began to sob harder.
"do you even know what you're begging for" he chuckled, pressing his hand against your neck. with enough pressure to make your vision hazy. your mouth opened and closed as you wondered whether to say it or not.
"k-kiss me p-please" you whispered. it wasn't loud but you were sure he heard you.
"kiss me m-minho i beg y-you"
you shook, wrists aching at how tight he knotted the rope. he seemed to understand. grabbing the knife he had thrown on the side as he cut it off.
"p-please m-minho plea-"
throwing your arms around his neck. his body pressed against yours as you tugged him closer. how did he even breathe with that on. you could feel his eyes on you. and you were sure he was thinking about it. whether to trust you. whether to do it.
"damn you really are....quite the thing"
you hadn't even realised he had pushed the mask up to his nose. just enough to kiss you.
"mmph-" his lips roughly pressed against yours. a slight tangy taste of blood. his tongue eager to explore your mouth. you kept your mouth opening, letting him lick into you.
"swallow."
he instructed after spitting into your mouth. you did as he said. a whimper leaving you as you kept your mouth open. he was smirking triumphantly.
but what you did next mustve have shocked him. you pulled the mask off completely. flinging it somewhere behind.
kissing him before he could react. legs wrapped tightly around his waist to prevent him from moving. you clenched down on him. slick coating his length.
"aah f-fuc mmhph" he groaned out, his gloved hand tangled in your hair to keep you away. for a split second, you opened your eyes.
you could see him.
the outline of his face.
the slope of his nose.
his cat-like eyes. lacking any emotion, only lust.
a few blood stains on his cheek.
his messy brownish red hair. he looked better than you had imagined.
like a god.
"you're really being real risky tonight, kitten" he panted out. you let out a content sound at the nickname.
"s-so pretty" you blabbered, holding his face. his eyes widening at the sudden compliment.
"..me?"
"yeah..gorgeous" you said more clearly. he let out a soft laugh.
sticking his tongue out and running it against your cheek. unconciously you giggled, trying to push him away.
it was ticklish.
"awww someone's ticklish" minho grumbled, you could see the smile threatening to show.
that was thrown out of the window as he thrusted in hard, kissing you like it was the last thing he'd do. his hand creeping around your neck. pressing down. to hold you in place.
.
.
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thinking about steve as a radio show host. he's pretty, clean cut, charming with the guests and surprisingly invested in the interviews he does with them. he listens to all of their albums no matter what and uses it as a way to expand his music taste and loves breaking down his favorites with the artists themselves. he's a beloved household name from his radio show to his talk show to his product endorsements and he's known as one of the nicer celebrities out there.
thinking about steve being out and proud, dating whoever he wants, whenever he wants, and not shying away from the publicity it gets him. he waves at the cameras that are flashing as he leaves clubs with someone new on his arm, smiles at the people who stare when he walks down the street holding hands with a new boyfriend, laughs along with the interviewers when he has a girlfriend the following week for a red carpet event.
thinking about steve going to work one day after staying up all night to listen to this new metal band on the scene trying to bring back "real rock and roll" as their lead singer puts it. he has a latte in one hand, corroded coffin cd booklet with annotated sticky notes poking out between the pages in the other as he slams open the door. he jumps when he finds the band already in the studio, the back of a curly head he almost recognizes sitting in his chair.
thinking about steve dropping his overpriced latte on the carpet when he realizes just who is sitting in his chair. his mind flashes back to months ago where he met some rockstar in some club who had a fiery smirk and wonderfully smart fingers. he still has the shirt the guy left behind at his place in the back of a drawer as a memento from a very successful one night stand that he tried to find again for weeks.
thinking about steve wrapping up the interview as easily as he can while staring at the singer who still pops up in his dreams late a night. he's out of his chair the second he can be and excuses himself to the bathroom with a not so subtle nod for a certain member to follow and counts the tiles in the ceiling as he waits for him to show up. he grins all wide and cat like when the door opens and pulls him into the stall to get his hands on him as fast as he can.
thinking about steve getting eddie munson's phone number as he buttons his pants up, both of them breathless and sated as they lean against the stall door. he learns he loves the taste of eddie's smile even more in the day time and makes a promise to himself to call him as soon as he gets home. he's not going to let him get away again, he still has a shirt to return after all.
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