Off the deep end (18+)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Pairing: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader
Warnings: canon typical violence, dubcon (just to be safe), knife play, spanking, fingering, choking, degradation, mention of blood, alcohol and weed
Summary: "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."
Masterlist
The floor almost vibrates with how loud the bass is, making your ears ring as you frown in search of Tara. She disappeared some time ago to look for another drink, claiming she was good enough to go on her own. You can already feel the ass whopping you're about to be put through for losing sight of her.
You bump into another drunk frat boy when you finally see her, immediately fastening your pace when you notice some asshole wrapped around her.
You already regret the amount of tequila you've drank throughout the night.
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?