A Sign From God
OC Ghostface x Reader
By: @pusantheamazonian
Not Beta'd
*Breaking news. A young male was found murdered in an alley last night. The police have no leads.*
Intrigued, you pause getting dressed, listening to the full report. It's been awhile since someone was murdered here in town. The body was found a couple blocks away from the University. Sighing campus is going to be nuts today with gossip.
*Various reports say there are sightings of someone dressed in a Halloween costume. A black robe with a white Father Death mask coined as Ghostface. Other sightings say it's an individual in all black street clothes and a silver mask.*
The only thing on TV and the radio right now is speculation about these murders. Interesting enough once you heard the name of the second victim. You knew it couldn't have been a coincidence. You know who they are and the kind of people they really are. Bastards absolute bastards. Creating an account on The Ghostface Forum; the one being spread around campus. You begin planting seeds of doubt of the victims innocence.
All victims have been previously accused of misconduct and violent crimes. Using money and connections to escape punishment. Ghostface is a vigilante.
Vigilante? That's a new one. This is just revenge. But it's intriguing that someone thinks that. Saving the thread he sets alerts for Anonymous!ರ_ರ post's. It was a whim that he joined the forum but now it’s become the most fascinating thing to look at daily.
*Another body was found this morning. Many are suspecting that it is connected to the killings in Woodsboro California from 1996. Where seven people were murdered. Police still have no suspects. General consensus is that Ghostface now roams our city. Police have mandated city wide curfew for everyone under the age of twenty seven years old.*
This is insane. The anonymous poster was you. Quiet and soft you. The bystander at every social gathering, who barely changed since grade school.
You.
You have been the mysterious supporter and the only one who has caught on to the victims' connections. Only by dumb luck did he find out it was you. At the school library you were sitting in the corner near a window. While looking for a particular book he noticed your aggressive typing. At a glance it seemed you were trying to meet a deadline but the glass display case to your left showed your screen.
The Ghostface forum.
Then his phone dinged.
It's an obsession now, dare to say a fetish. He can't wrap his head around why you would be helping Ghostface. You were a clumsy nerd in high school who kept to themselves. You're still a bookworm but now also top of the class and generally liked because of your helpfulness. But what shocked him was when guys started mentioning your hidden body and the few that had sex with you. Insisting that you were someone they would do it again with if they ever got the chance. You’re something apparently out of a fantasy.
Days pass as he tries to figure you out. Following your every move; keeping his presence just out of sight and moving to sit behind you in class. You don't do anything questionable. Just work and school. You live off campus in a second floor one bedroom apartment. Working part time as a receptionist for a dentist office and tutoring.
He’s so focused on you that he has no idea what’s going on in class. His body is the only thing present. Waiting for class to start your name snaps him to attention. A group of guys to his left, joking around in a circle. He hears one sentence that breaks something inside. A date. You have a date with some weakling from English class tomorrow. He can't allow you to go on a date. You belong to him now. Tonight he has to show you who's in charge.
Your building is filled with silence, broken only by distant noise of traffic. He makes his way upstairs to your door. The locks are old and worn. Steady but quick, he's becoming an expert on picking locks. A soft click and the door creaks open just enough to slip inside.
Inside the tiny apartment, the darkness is thick. Only the bright kitchen and bedroom light are able to cut through the gloominess. With hushed footsteps he grabs a knife from your own knife block. Before following the soft humming coming from the bathroom. Peering in through the open crack. You’re brushing your hair, wrapped in a towel.
Absent mindedly walking to your bedroom and turning on Spotify. Flinging the towel towards the dirty clothes hamper, you rummage through your dresser looking for pajamas. Because of tomorrow’s plans you took an everything shower. You have a new container of strawberry poundcake body butter that you’ve been dying to try.
Suddenly the song cuts off halfway and changes. Skipping to the end of a new song you added.
Oh, and my love.
Did I mistake you for a sign from God?
Or are you really here to cut me off?
Or maybe just to turn me on.
Freezing you realize you're not alone. Still naked you turn around. To see him.
Ghostface.
He's definitely different from the Woodsboro one. The mask is silver, not white. Dressed all in black modern street clothes with black latex gloves holding a knife.
"If you're going to kill me. Can I put some clothes on first? I'ld prefer not to be naked when they find me." Remaining neutral you don't want to give in to the bubbling fear that you pushed things too far. That Ghostface didn’t like that attention you were giving online.
"It's time to face the consequences of your actions." He rumbles while placing the knife by the stereo and taking off his leather jacket. Exposing his chocolate skin and the tank top stretched tightly across his muscles. He wasn't expecting such a physical glow up and bluntness from you.
Watching the action, it triggers something inside of you. A darkness that you want. Zeroing in on his purposely labored breathing, his muscles ripple underneath his skin and you can see traces of blood smeared. Having been hastily wiped off.
"And what are the consequences?" Unconsciously matching his breathing, eyes flickering back to the mask. There is no date tomorrow.
As he steps forward you make no attempt to move. Your insides flutter on in hopeful anticipation. A hand slips into your hair, scraping the base off your head. In his grip your head is pulled to the side for a moment. Taking his time looking at you. He wonders if you have always been like this. Making him question everything he thought he knew about you.
“Wh-” Before you can ask, his other hand guides your hand to his crotch. Which is hard. Almost choking on your own saliva you didn't realize he would be into this kind of foreplay. The question is how far is he going to take this?
"What if I say no Onyx?" Inquiring you maintain eye contact.
Bristling at your comment his hand squeezes tighter. Next thing you know he's pushing you down to your knees. Keeping you close while maintaining his grip on your hair. You know what he wants.
“So bossy. Did no one teach you manners?” Keeping that eye contact while sassing him, you slowly unbutton his jeans. Pulling them and the boxers just low enough that you're able to pull him out. He's bigger than you thought but honestly you didn't know what to expect. It appears that he can back up his cocky attitude.
Mustering up as much salvia as possible you lick your hand, transferring it back to him. A few lose tugs and he's fully erect, the full weight leaves it heavy in your hand. The same creamy chocolate color as the rest of him, leaning slightly to the right.
Tongue out and a slow lick underneath starting from the base. Looking up through your eyelashes, every movement you make is slow and deliberate. You can feel the restraint radiating from him. The urge to face fuck you without any remorse. Now an overwhelming need to be a rebellious brat appears. Since you both know each other's identities, why not make it worth the risk.
Pulling off with a soft moan and challenging grin. “I thought I was going to be punished.”
A smack to your hand and he brushes your hand away. Taking charge, he tilts your head back.
“Open.” There's no hesitation in his movements. Just a fierce claim, sending a shiver down your spine.
Opening wide he guides himself in before positioning both hands on the back of your head. Giving him proper leverage. Rocking before a steady pace is started testing out your gag reflex. Which you don't have, thanks to your sister being a weirdo and always trying to shove whole bread sticks into your mouth. A muffled moan and sliding your hands up his thighs, you're ready.
Unbothered and chasing his own pleasure. Fucking your throat in earnest. He's surrounded in the silence of his own breathing and the sloppy squelches from your mouth. If you feel this good now, how would your cunt feel?
Suddenly you’re pulled off and he's dragging you upwards with a tight grip on your upper arms. A quick heave and you're bouncing on the bed; automatically scooting backwards to give him room. Climbing after you, hurried movements and he's pulling you back to him by your legs. While pushing his pants further down off his hips.
Latex covered hands spread you open. Firm in its movements, easily slipping two fingers. Causing your breath to hitch.
“Pathetic. You're already dripping from being used.”
Holding you open with one hand, he rubs himself against you. Spreading your arousal everywhere. Letting the head snag at your fluttering opening. Teasing you with the incoming pleasure that you can't have yet.
“Well Mr Ghostface make sure to properly use me then and stop being a tease.” Your voice coming out was strained.
A low groan escapes from his chest bottoming out in one push. Almost buckling over, you're so warm and squishy, he doesn't want to leave this pussy ever. Holding you tightly against him. Whimpers escape as relief and impatience dissipate. The unmistakable itch deep inside that's been building since his appearance tonight will finally be taken care of.
The atmosphere would crackle if it could from the tension; dangerous and intoxicating circling you both as he buries himself deep with each thrust. Not giving you a chance to adjust to his size.
“I-If you're going -fuck.” Struggling to keep focus, your hand lands near his shoulder. Fingers loosely grabbing the fabric. You’ve never had anyone this good before. He’s able to hit your cervix with passion and just enough force to make you bounce away with every thrust. “Mmmm…fuck me stupid…I-I want your face.” Tugging harshly you pull the mask off letting it fall on the mattress beside you.
Everything stops as brown eyes bore into your soul. The blank, shocked face twisting into a scary grin.
A strangled whine escapes your throat as he quickly manhandles you. Slipping your legs onto his shoulders and pressing forwards. A hand bracing himself while the other finds home around your throat. Trapping you in a firm mating press. A wild deranged look in his eyes.
“You thought you could go out with someone else.” His grip tightens, as his weight and boiling rage are transferred into a brutal unyielding pace. More dangerous than before, you flipped his switch. “This cunt belongs to me.”
“O-Onyx.”
Like an exposed nerve everything is overwhelming; not enough and raw. You don't want this connection to end but your body's not going to be able to take it for much longer.
Warmth rising within, the delicious tension building with every thrust and grunt. A wave of pleasure threatens to explode inside of you. Quickly finding your clit, giving yourself the extra stimulation for the final push. Your hand is ripped away at the last second and positioned above your head. An unearthly wail rips from your throat. You were so close.
“No.” A firm response with a quick harsh slap to your clit. “Remember who’s in control.”
“Please.” Breathing quickly, body trembling with need, you completely surrender to his dominance. Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes. “P-please Onyx.”
“You'll cum only when I'm ready.”
Whining your body unconsciously shakes. Your body is trying to slither away but your cunt keeps sucking him in deeper. Nails leaving scratches and indents at his shoulders. It's all madness.
Tunnel vision.
The only thing in his brain and vision is you. The frustrated frown on your face matching the sounds leaking from you. The tight grip you have on him. The way your cunt flutters around him trying to suck more of him in. The jiggle from all the soft spots on your body. It's absurd to think that you have this kind of influence on him.
“Cum.”
Body responding to his command despite achy muscles tightening. A strangled squeal is all that you're capable of as your body jerks, masking the pain as pleasure.
Following suit after a few harsh thrusts turning into uncontrollable rutting. Low, hoarse grunts and hitched groans. You’re squeezing him so tightly. Keeping you in a firm grip as he cums. Harshly. Pulled flush against you to make sure nothing leaks out and you don't run away. His vision narrowed to just you, and nothing else is real but the surge of ecstacy.
Silence fills the room. Labored breathing and winces are heard as he leans back onto his knees. Lowering your legs gently while remaining inside you.
"So my actions made you horny?" Breathless you can't help but to smile at his disheveled look. Not that you had any room to talk. You're pretty sure you've turned to jello.
“How?” Exasperated. The deranged, cold facade vanishes. “How did you know it was me?”
"Please. We've been in the same classes since middle school. It wasn't hard to figure out who Ghostface was. Obviously I recognized your tattoos when you took your jacket off.” Trying to stretch it's impossible. He's got you locked in. “I've known you for like forever so your walk was familiar. Then I figured it had to be someone who would have a reason to be on campus late at night while still having access to major areas. Which meant a sports team member or part time worker. I thought it was odd that it was only guys being attacked. So logically they all had to be linked.”
“What are you Velma?” Dumbfounded. You really figured everything out because you paid attention.
“Something like that. I'm a Capricorn.” Tracing the tattoos on his forearms you try not to get lost in thought. “But I do remember what they did to Opal. My room was across the hall from her.”
It's still a fresh wound. The assault by a group of guys in the co-ed dorm to her suicide when no one believed her. You know that her death traumatized him the most. You can't even begin to imagine the pain from losing a sibling let alone your twin. What happened was actually the final push to get an off campus apartment since campus police suck ass.
“Now you only have two people left.” Weakly poking his chest.
“But I got them all."
“No.”
“Yes I did.” Frustrated, he doesn't understand why you are arguing about this.
“The Dean has no children but he does have a nephew that he spoils. Who is the wallflower of the friend group?” Leering at his body you wait for the clogs to stop spinning in his mind.
“What better way to cover things up than to whine to the rich Uncle.” A hand back on your throat, he leans in mumbling with a brief chuckle. Almost hesitant before a searing kiss that feels too short. “I’ll deal with that later. We have unfinished business.” Grinding slowly with a smirk, reveling in feeling you tremble.
