#not slasher

[lackingspace]

Lesson in Silence (Kylo Ren X Reader)

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: If there was one thing in life you wanted it was banality. Unfortunately for you, the force had greater plans, AKA more trauma than necessary in your opinion. Like, it wasn't necessary to make you force sensitive, to have you be on the run, or to eventually have you hide in plain sight as an arms technician for the first order. You could have a cafe or something on a planet no one cared about, out of the whole mess of Jedis and Siths-- if the force had actually cared to ask your opinion. It's just your luck that the force answered to no one. What a deal.

Warnings: nothing yet really.

A/N: Not horror-related, but what I've been working on as of late. Maybe some of you are star wars fans too lol. Like always, too much exposition for my own good.✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 link: Lesson in Silence ✧･ﾟ

Next ch: Lesson 2

Standing outside the sleek turbo-lift of the finalizer had a wave of nostalgia wash over you. 

Breath catching in your chest at the unexpectedness of it. Frozen in mid-press, thoughts flew behind your eyes quicker than you could process. 

Thank your stars the corridor was empty at the moment, otherwise, you’d have gotten some kind of backlash for standing there like an idiot and delaying someone’s productivity for the day. 

Efficiency was essentially the unofficial motto of the first order. 

It was such a small thing. A brief flash of a memory long passed and you were back in time. Silly how you hadn’t realized until that moment. 

You’d been on these things hundreds of times, thousands really, but today was the day your brain decided to finally make the connection between them and your old master’s ship. Avoidance or stupidity the culprit…Likely a combination of both.

Breath catching, before stuttering out all at once finally helped to get you moving again. Enough to press the call button for the lift, at least. Body mechanically obeying while your mind was a whirlwind. 

If someone paid attention they'd see you awkwardly there, stock still, staring at the wall like a droid. 

Not that it mattered much, you wouldn't have noticed anyway. The crushing desperation of a mind trying to rip itself back to the present, out of a time long repressed, wouldn't have registered any snide looks sent your way. 

Especially when you were tumbling deeper so spectacularly. The appearance of calm– your only saving grace.

There wasn't any rhyme or reason, at least that you could identify, why today was the day your mind decided to register that the panel-facing of the lift resembled that of the ship you'd spent years actively pushing to the darkest fringe of your mind. 

Those times felt so distant, more like a dream than a lived memory. It was longer still since you’d thought of your master. The muscles of your chest contracting instinctively at the echoing screams of the past. 

You'd killed the memory of her long ago, but the seemingly innocent resemblance had somehow struck a vital stone in your carefully formed burial foundation.  

A decade of construction cracked in an instant. As if a looter had snuck in and dismantled the long forgotten casket, your master was unhinged. Dug up to the forefront of your consciousness.

What would she have thought of you now? Of the life you’d carved out. A twinge of dejection settled in your chest. A venomous reprimand already whispering of how weak your mind was to crumble against a turbo-lift panel of all things. 

Hair raised against the nape of your neck for the veracity of her voice. You swore a puff of breath had brushed the shell of your ear. But hers had never been a spirit you'd seen. 

Thank your stars for that.

If someone had warned your adolescent self that you'd find a safe haven within the first order? Well, you'd have rolled your eyes. That wasn't in the sabacc deck for you. 

Safety? Laughable. Being in the first order? Maybe. Infiltration happened regularly. Master probably would have ordered it at some point.

Nowhere was safe. That was the first and last lesson she had taught. 

Safety was a lie. A state of mind that hindered perception. On the other hand, instability, uncertainty, danger, those variables were rational. Those kept you alive.

If you’d had more grasp on reality, you would have sighed. 

Master really shouldn’t have had children, in hindsight, you couldn’t understand why she’d decided on keeping you. But as the thought occurred, you quickly corrected yourself, you did know. 

That tickling in your consciousness, the coercive thing that explained her uncharacteristic decision. The force.  

It was always the force. Again, you would have rolled your eyes, if your mind wasn't desperately drowning. Memories and thoughts colliding too quickly to digest. 

And yet, thinking of the force was the only buoy in darkness. 

Forcing your mind to focus on that reasoning was your only bet to regain any infrastructure. Reshape the fractured edges of her tomb with the thing she so desperately defended.

There wasn’t any other reason for keeping you. 

A heart like hers drenched in what she called duty, your preference had been malice, would only bend to the force. A Jedi shadow was fervently loyal to its whims. 

The way it pushed and pulled at people’s will– weaving a net of influence seemingly however it pleased. Detectable to a few, but only discernible by the spider who weaved it. 

And like a spider, the force's venom was a potent one. If she had a vision, well, that would have been all she wrote. Master was nothing if not adamant in adherence to the force above all.

“Balance” master ingrained "is the force". 

A muscle twitched in your stiffened hand, balance, you could feel your heart harden as your own venom seeped back into you. Balance never cared which side you fell on– if you even fell on a side at all. 

Frustration simmered in your chest. The futility of the force always had this effect, it was inescapable. 

As the Jedi teachings say– it surrounds, is created by, and exists between all living things, binding together all creation. Inconspicuous vagary was your take.

Master reserved a veneration for it that you never saw her display for anything. She'd dedicated her life to it and would eventually die for it. If a woman like her could be a Jedi then you were sure not much separated them from the Sith.

You supposed some might find the force a state of stillness, surrounding, yet shifting. Soft and gentle. 

But for you? The force was lively, fluid, flowing, a gentle caress or a crushing tidal wave. Like currents beneath a vast ocean, unseen on the surface, only felt. In your experience blindly trusting in its wild will would have you drown in it. 

Screams echoing behind your eyes, master could attest to that.

It was odd, really, how these factions fought for it. Considering how it played out plans using the living, without regard of consent. Constantly seeking “balance”– whatever it deemed that to be, no matter the cost. 

Light? Dark? Jedi? Sith? Those in between? Pawns. Everyone. All to be played with and discarded– lives as currency. 

You'd seen all sides, vividly experienced the banality and ruthlessness of people, yet still, you found the force cruelest of all. 

Although you couldn't speak for others, you were sure your view wasn't status quo. 

Master always thought you were pessimistic, but if you’d spoken your perspective, she would have killed you for questioning the code. Maybe you were just bitter after everything. 

A scoff forced itself out of you. That was an understatement….but you like to think you were able to see it plainly, rather than trying to fit it into a neat box filled with philosophies you cared little for. 

It was, as it had always been and as it would always be, an indifferent regulator that wove its plan into the fabric of existence.

Some might find comfort in its stability….you'd only ever felt burdened by it.

It never asked if you'd wanted to have these abilities, born to be hunted, to serve, to be haunted by it's spirits, or born to a mother that made it clear she was master and nothing more. 

That you were a burden to her mission. 

A corruption born from a liaison between a Jedi shadow and Sith she needed intel from. Bitter was a flavor you were born with.

There was futility in resistance though. The more you fought against its will, the quicker you were confronted with the inevitable. It was immutable. 

The force was its own alignment. And you were made to answer its call. 

For as burdened by it as you were, there wasn't much else to do but listen. Cutting yourself completely off was a luxury you'd never managed. Only ever to blunt its tether on you at best.

Master said you related to it differently than most. That sight like yours was exceedingly rare and had the order not fallen, the seers would have taken you.

Visions didn't just come through dreams or meditations. You could be walking along minding your own business and bam, vision of some event you had no business seeing. 

Past, present, future? You didn't care to find out. 

Other times things would echo off objects or people. Those were the most inconvenient, but by far the most distracting were the spirits wandering around. 

They were visible to others sometimes, but you'd see them regularly. For all your malice of the force, the ghosts wandering around were your biggest comforts these days.

Doubt clouded your mind that the Jedi would have allowed you to join. 

You made a poor Padawan. 

Questioned everything, were too emotional, or not emotional enough. Maybe seeing long-dead masters would have made them overlook your flaws.

The shadows would have taken you though-- Become like your master. A shudder ran down your spine as nausea settled in the pit of your stomach. You'd had enough of shadows for a lifetime. 

Your master's mission, the one you’d been born into by extension, was to seek and destroy the Sith. 

Relics, artifacts, members– all traces within the galaxy. As so, avoiding Sith detection was imperative. 

That at least was the most useful thing she'd ever done for you.

Paranoia paid off in allowing you to settle right beneath the biggest threat to your life– and you'd never felt safer. 

She’d gone through great lengths to teach you mastery over suppressing your trace force signature. A useful skill you were happy to have had beaten into you in hindsight. 

You wondered if she'd be abhorred or impressed with your current position...you'd bet money on abhorred. Disappointment mixing with the nausea made for an unsettled stomach.

You'd been on your way to the caf, but suddenly dinner wasn't sounding that appealing.

She wasn’t here to judge though. You were still alive, surviving; she wasn’t. That's what mattered. 

You hoped she would have understood…but you knew she never would.

Movement was returning to your body as your breathing evened out and your eyes regained focus. Rolling your shoulders to relax the stiffened muscles as you felt your mind turn to more recent events.

How you’d come to be where you were.

The fabricated identity, forging your credentials and falling into life as a regular on-base arms technician was incredibly easy. Master had deep connections, and you were lucky to have the contacts. 

The first order had vetted you, sure, but your contact was good. So there you laid, hidden, in the belly of the beast, working away, and surprisingly enjoyed the job. 

Arms technician came naturally, it was similar to things you’d grown up doing. Building things, breaking them down, creating modifications, keeping things in top performance. It didn’t put you too high up in rank, or in close proximity to officials too often.

It was only when you had to deliver a report after facilitating a deal– the current arms master hated negotiating and designated you as the lead for those off-base talks, unless it was one of his personal contacts. 

You were more than happy to fill in for your boss, just hated having to file your report to General Hux after. But you could live with seeing his smarmy arrogant face for 10 minutes here and there.

The job didn't get boring either. Often, you were floated out to help check and repair the weapons of the ships, troopers, or officials when the base weapons were fully functional. 

Early on, you’d taken creative liberties by adding modifications for people youd come to like. 

The arms master hadn't been happy when he'd found unregulated modifications within some of the trooper’s equipment, but with the efficiency and upgrade potential, he gave you the access code to the back workshop. 

Surprisingly, he’d sprouted something about it only being sanctioned as strict R&D for the caus– his surface thoughts betraying he enjoyed the artistry behind it, lacking the propaganda. He was a decent man. 

There were dangers that came with being here, of course. Especially once you were the known go-to for prototype modification requests. 

Luckily, it hadn't gained the upper most command's attention. or if it had they let it go. As long as it benefited the order they likely didn't care. Hux never cared what technicians did in their free time as long as it didn't hamper progress.

Master had never been nurturing in the traditional sense, her lessons were harsh, thorough, and cold. They served a purpose and saved your life countless times. 

A well utilized lesson had been; If you're good at something benign, display it, don't hide it. Give them something to focus on and create affability to blend in. Make yourself integral to the operation, so they have less of a reason to question you.

When higher-ranking officials happened to occasionally request a modification, you didn't bat an eye, they weren't who you were hiding from and had no reason to think of you as soon as they retrieved their weapons.

Force users on the other hand? Good thing they were few and far between, but when they happened to be close? Those were the moments you hated. 

Feeling rage waft down from some unreachable area on the ship? The cold dread that wafted off the officers when the commander or knights were spotted? Those made your heart clench.

Hiding in plain sight had been the smart decision. It was the only thing that had saved you in the past and hadn't failed you here yet. 

Master had been explicit, the Sith, or those aligned with it, would kill you if they felt your presence. You weren't one to ignore your master, alway led to pain.

However, the force spirit determinedly following you since you woke up this morning was adamantly arguing for the the Commander.

"They wouldn't do that, Padawan."

You’d just finished your shift before stepping up to the lift doors that had your brain reboot like the cannon housing you’d just finished calibrating. It’d been giving some power differential readings that were off, but it was a quick fix. 

That wasn't exactly the best time to converse with the persistent spectator. 

As you glanced at him now, the master was looking away nonchalantly. Annoyance twisted your insides as you highly suspected he was playing a heavy influence on your sudden flashbacks.

People had started to flood the corridor, shift change was happening, leaving some to stand around chatting while others rushed about.

The slow curling smirk spreading onto the ghost's face as if in response to your speculation had the already there annoyance spike into anger. 

From a young age, you'd easily chatted with the spirits, the force wanted you to see and so you saw. 

They were just there whether you liked it or not, so why not learn something? Or just keep yourself from boredom. Company was a rare commodity. With close proximity, the master could read your thoughts without your need for projection.

Regardless, it wasn't the time to force up old memories and make your presence more noticeable– the knights were all here. 

You didn't need to hear the gossip to confirm, the shift they caused was good enough, even as limited as you were– you could still feel the press of their presence.

The danger buried in your memories wasn’t just resentment, but more that you may accidentally project, or even more worrying, if someone happened to see into your mind. That’d be damning.

Who knows why they were here? 

It happened every few cycles or so. They'd all gather, probably convening with their master commander on some complex plan that you were very happy to have no knowledge of.

They usually left as quick as they’d come. This time would be no different. At least that's what you told yourself. The masters smirk only widened.

Rolling your eyes, you refused to focus on any of it. The danger of slipping into the weave of the force was real. Especially with your mind as unruly as this spirit had made it.

Thinking about them too much could have you poke a hole in the intricate gossamer concealment you'd built for yourself. You had to remain a breeze against the stream of the force. 

Unnoticeable and untraceable. 

Otherwise, they'd find you, corner you, and execute the great task they roamed the galaxy for– conversion or die.

Barbaric, but a part of you admired their efficacy. They were the only threat you truly cared about.

The business between the first order and rebels didn't really hold any interest to you. It's just politics. Given an actual choice, you were never really a joiner.

The knights wouldn't accept that answer. And you didn't have a death wish. So, here you were. Brain rebooting and all. Today had felt off and maybe this was the reason for it?

The will of the force at work, currently in the shape of an annoying ghost– emphasis on the annoying bit.

Judging by the frown, he’d heard that.

Snapping back to reality as the transport opened to an empty space. Sighing relief, you walked in before punching the button to take you to the rec floor. Doors slinked shut and the lift was off. 

Privacy was rare here. You weren't high rank, didn't want to be; that meant shared quarters– showers too. It didn't bother you much. The constant buzz kept you on edge. Never able to relax enough to fall into the force.

"You shouldn't worry so much, youngling,"

Side eyeing the master with slight confusion before you realized he was referring to your earlier thoughts on the knights. Ignoring the comment as you could feel the slowing of the lift, before it came to a stop. 

Not your floor– like always, privacy never lasted. 

Exhaling slightly more than necessary was the only reaction you had to the master. He'd been making off hand comments like that all day. The spirit had some sort of mission and he wasn’t easily swayed.

Staring ahead as you thought, whatever you think, I disagree. The knights absolutely would. They'd have no sympathy for someone connected to a Jedi. However unwilling or uncontrolled.

They'd kill you even with your association to the first order. Neither the knights or their commander would show mercy.

"You misunderstand. Kylo Ren would help." That got an undignified snort out of you just as the transport doors hissed open. 

You couldn't stop the sarcastic thought back to the master, “Help? Ha, good one. Kylo Ren doesn't know the meaning of the word. He only knows rage and destruction. I should know, I've felt it.” Pushing the thought towards the spirit in your irritation, 'Commander Ren is a kriffing ass.'

The black combat boot that slammed down rang inside your head. 

Freezing as the oppressive presence came next. Your chest felt tight and jaw clenched, but you steeled yourself. Locking your gaze forward to the single button lit that would take you to your floor, there was no need to say anything. 

Straightening up as if you were just trying to stay formal next to the Commander, but it allowed you to take a deeper calming breath. 

A button lit up, much higher than where you were stopping, without his physical movement.

Such an unnecessary use of the force made you want to roll your eyes. Lazy bastard. The turbo-lift buzzed as it started its ascent.

The space had seemed so expansive before, but now it was cramped and smothering.

Seeing him or a knight down a hall wasn't out of the ordinary. Even being in the hanger when they were boarding a ship had happened. But this? Being almost sandwiched against him? Never.

It was never the most pleasant to be around them, but nothing came of it then. You mentally reassured yourself that even with the new proximity, nothing would come of it now. 

You could have left before the doors closed- but that'd draw too much attention, staying though...Well, you couldn't conceal your surface thoughts. 

That'd be too jarring if he felt like dipping in and felt a hole where your thoughts should be– a rookie mistake. 

What made your heart clench was the possibility that the commander had already been scanning for any projected thoughts. You had pushed the thought close to projecting in your annoyance, usually that wouldn't have been a problem, but with how close he was, he could have picked it up.

That left a bloom of embarrassment in your chest. You weren't a coward though and wouldn't be one now. 

You'd wait for your floor, it was almost there anyway. 

Silence was something you generally enjoyed, rare as it was, but standing next to him? It was anything but silent. An unpleasantly buzzing around your skull-- a high-pitched ringing in your ears. But thankfully, the inertia slowed again as your stop came. 

The doors slid open bringing a lightness to the stifling pressure of the transport.

“You're more important to the knights than you know.” The voice of the pesky master pierced your calm. 

At that moment you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, lash out, something.The spirit, the force, whichever chose the wrong moment to fuck with you.

If the Commander was listening, he'd pick up the sage's words from the spirit itself or the impression of them rolling off you.

Whoever this spirit was like to assume a lot about nothing. You were no one. Not to them. Not to the man looming over you. Nothing special. You weren't looking to be important to the people in power. People in general really.

You just wanted to keep breathing…and maybe have a hot bath once in a while.

The slow tilting of the commander's head had his gaze assault your form. 

The hairs on your arm raised as you forced your frozen legs to thaw. To actually move before the doors slid shut and trapped you here any longer. Too much energy would draw his attention, but too little was just as bad.

There was nothing exchanged between you, there didn't need to be. Stepping into the corridor had your buzzing nerves calm slightly. The doors shutting was even better. A deep calming breath helped settle the unease. Starting in the direction of your shared quarters had your legs feel less tense.

Then everything tensed at the brush against your psyche. 

Fuck.

#kylo ren #kylo fanfic #kylo x reader #kyloren #star wars #knights of ren #star wars fanfiction #not horror #not slasher #oh well #its still my writing #so its gonna be dark #lol

[valluvslana]

:3

#girlblogging #let me live in my delusions #masked men #slashers #slasher x reader #bubba sawyer #michael myers #Jason #just girl stuff #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre game #leatherface #Ghostface #thomas hewitt #i can fix them

[rosytintedlights]

Whenever I’m sad I think about the fact that Michael Myers does have a sense of humor because this fucker absolutely put on a sheet and some glasses and was like ‘this will be the greatest prank on planet earth just u fuckin wait’

AND IT WORKED SHE HAD NO FUCKIN CLUE

#michael myers #slashers #halloween #halloween 1978 #original halloween #horror #horror movies #classic horror

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

Edit: I see a ton of answers saying "torture porn" and some asking why I didn't add it. Torture porn isn't a subgenre of horror. Every single horror film that yall describe as torture porn falls into an actual subgenre (usually slasher/splatter or body horror, though there are exceptions). Torture porn was a term made to describe the rise in realistic brutality in horror in the early 2000s. If you don't like the brutality or gore in horror, that's fine. But that's not a subgenre. Every single one of these could be incredibly gorey and brutal, as well as can be the opposite of that. Torture porn is not a subgenre in itself

#my least fav is probably possession horror #there are some good ones (the exorcist for example) but for the most part im not a fan #horror #horror movies #polls #also if anyone votes for slashers; i will cry (/joke) #i just genuinely love slasher movies

[illusioninfnty]

day 15 ; keeping quiet

↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher

fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.

Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.

“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.

You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress. 

You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.

No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.

A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.

A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.

It was one of the ghostface masks. 

You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.

It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.

Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.

The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.

In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face. 

“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.

But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”

You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.

Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”

He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.

You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.

He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.

You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear. 

And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.

“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.

Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.

You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.

If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.

You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.

Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.

He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.

“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.

“She knows, man.”

Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.

Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?” 

The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.

He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.

You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.

He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.

“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!

But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.

“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”

Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”

Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”

As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.

“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat. 

You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later. 

Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”

“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.

Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.

“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”

He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.

“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.

“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”

Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect. 

“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.

You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.” 

“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.

Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”

“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”

He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.” 

“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.

A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.

You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.

“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself. 

Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s. 

“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”

His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.

“Good. Now stay quiet.”

Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions. 

Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”

Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.

The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”

Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.

“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.

He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.

As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.

Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.

His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.

Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.

Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.

You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.

“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.

“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.

You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.

Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.

But Stu is nowhere near stopping.

With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.

“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.

You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.

You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.

Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.

“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.

Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.

When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.

“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.

You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.

You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.

“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.

Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.

Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.

“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghostface #ghostface x reader #billy x reader x stu #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #ghostface smut #scream smut #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers smut

[bebs-art-gallery]

The Flayed Angel (circa 1749)

— by Jacques Fabien Gautier d’Agoty

#painting #art #art history #illustration #artblr #goth #gothic #dark art #spooky #halloween #dark academia #classical art #gothcore #goth gf #divine feminine #dark feminine energy #witchblr #goth girl #artist #slasher #slashers #vampirecore #vampire #vampires #vampire aesthetic #vampcore #goth aesthetic #witchcore

[galactic-rhea]

Ah yes, the "evil" family.

I thought it would be even more funny if it was Luke, of all people, the one who wanted to watch Bloodbath in the Black Moon of the Dragon System.

First || Next

#star wars #sw #star wars fanart #skywalker family #darth vader #princess leia #leia organa #luke skywalker #my art #star wars au #anakin skywalker #why would vader want to watch a slasher movie? that's his day to day #he would be annoyed at how irrealistic the murders are or something #now a space opera (but make it literal) with music? alien stuff #totally crazy the most obvious tropes are shocking

[ilovelosermen69]

Girls when he does the bare minimum in fanfiction

#cod x reader #cod x male reader #call of duty modern warfare #mortal kombat x male reader #mortal kombat x reader #slasher community #slashers x reader #slashers x male reader #mk1 #moon knight x male reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #din dijarin x reader #din dijarn x male reader #the mandolorian x reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us

[junkmixart]

it's a Pitch Black Edition Phantom Precedent Electric Golf Cart.

______________

I got a upcoming kickstarter of these guys in March 24! Subscribe to SLASHER U KICKSTARTER to get the first 24-hour discount for it!

#slasher u #slashers #horror #blake matthews #pandora song

[polutek]

They get distracted easily :((

#me when someone asks about my special interest #silly ghostface #pls notice it it took me way too much time #ghostfacesona ??? #ghostface #scream movie #scream movies #scream franchise #scream fanart #scream #scream comic #comics #comic art #ghostface fanart #artists on tumblr #digital art #digital doodle #digital drawing #doodles #polutek art #horror #horror movies #slasher #slashers

[shupito]

Ways to carry a person slasher (Jason edition)

#I am very biased #slashers #80s horror #90s horror #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #jason vorhees art #michael myers fanart #michael myers #carrie white #ghostface #chucky #freddy krueger #leatherface #halloween #a nightmare on elm street #ghostface fanart #freddy krueger fanart

[blackcatfromthevoid]

“Oh my god, he’s so scary,” I say as I kick my feet up in the air and giggle like an idiot.

#My writing #monster love #monster lover #exophilia #terato #Slashers

[nackrosor]

#the merkins #LOOK AT THEM #OMG #michael myers #jason voorhees #freddy krueger #ghostface #leatherface #the texas chainsaw massacre #halloween #friday the 13th #nightmare on elm street #scream #chucky #child's play #comedy #Slashers #slasher movies

[seraph111m]

welcome to the fog <333

#dbd #chucky #dbd fanart #horror #slashers #dead by daylight #seed of chucky #bride of chucky #charles lee ray #tiffany valentine

[veritasrose]

I am begging, begging y’all to understand the difference between gore and body horror please.

Body horror is transformation/monstrous sort of things like a mouth where you shouldn’t have one or like, the shifting bones and whatnot in werewolf transformations. It is where something horrific is happening within the body itself.

It is not a bloody nose, cuts, wounds, injuries ect. That is gore. It is not scars, limb differences, or visual disabilities either.

For fuck’s sake please learn this stuff because the next time I see someone tagging a scarred or disabled character as “body horror” I am gonna lose it.

(Image ID courtesy of @consistantly-changing )

[Image ID: a section from doesthedogdie, a site that allows users to put common triggers on movies. The question is "Is there body horror?". There are 4 votes for Yes, and 0 votes for No. The text below, which elaborates where and what the trigger is, says "bloody head/nose and some cuts on a childs arm from her mum. also an infected rabbit bite on the protagonist".]

#also i really love body horror #so when i look for it and find generic slasher movies #or like people that look and move like me and my friends #that suuucks #ableism #horror #tagging #veritasrose rambles

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️ #mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️