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violethargreeves · 8 months

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THE BEST THING I’VE EVER READ

the little things

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Five times Soap questions the relationship between Ghost and the 141's Medic, and the one time he gets an answer. Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of blood, mild swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

part two. part three. part four.

The first time is purely by accident.

It’s not like he’s trying to eavesdrop; it isn’t his fault the infirmary doors were left wide open, and it doesn’t seem like you and Ghost are trying to be quiet. Price called everyone for a meeting in twenty and, since the infirmary’s on the way, Soap figures he’d swing by and grab you. He’s walking towards the doors, paying attention to nothing in particular, when your unmistakable laugh echoes into the hallway. Soap stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the sudden noise.

Someone’s enjoying themselves, he thinks. He’s almost six steps from the door when you laugh again, this time followed by the deep timbre of a familiar voice that makes Soap stop in his tracks.

Price was the one who had brought you onto the team, but it was supposedly Ghost who had recommended you. “Only medic I ever met who actually knew what they were doing,” he had said. Apparently the two of you had previously worked on multiple missions together, and that was made obvious by the way you two worked flawlessly around each other with an efficiency that could only have been cultivated through a deep trust and years of teamwork.

Soap slowly approaches, all his stealth training coming to the forefront as he leans next to the door and focuses in on what you’re saying.

“It’ll only take a day, two tops. I promise.” Soap can hear the smile in your voice. Glancing at the glass panes of the doors, he can just make out your reflection. You’re standing beside an empty bed, behind an overbed table that’s covered in papers, leaning on your elbows to smile widely up at Ghost as he stands against the wall on the opposite side of the bed looking wholly unimpressed.

“You want me to spend an entire day sitting in the corner and watching you give everyone on base flu shots?”

“No, I’m asking if you’ll sit in the corner and look intimidating while I give everyone on base flu shots. The “look intimidating” part’s important,” you speak matter-of-factly.

“I’ve seen you amputate a man’s leg at the knee mid-combat. You’re telling me you can’t handle a few shots by yourself?”

Soap makes a note to ask about that story later.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you. It’s everyone else that’s the problem here.” Ghost blinks at you, seemingly not believing you. “I get it, you’re all big, tough guys who face death every day-” Soap sinks his teeth into his cheek to fight back a laugh as you try to lower your voice in a very poor imitation of Ghost, “-but the way some of these guys act, you’d think I was coming at them with some kind of medieval torture device. I just think-” “That’d be a first.”

“-If I had someone that everyone respects, and is a little bit afraid of, sitting nearby then they’d stop with the whining and I can get my job done faster.”

There’s a long pause as you and Ghost stand locked into a staring contest. Soap swears that, for a moment, something like amusement crosses Ghost’s eyes.

“You think people are only a little afraid of me?” Ghost asks, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You let out a loud, exaggerated scoff, throwing your hands up.

“Fine! Go lurk in a dark corner and scare children, or whatever it is you do, instead of helping me. Just don’t be surprised if I’m suddenly out of painkillers the next time you get shot.” You’re facing away from him, pouting like a child with your arms crossed over your chest. Both Soap and Ghost know you don’t mean it, your flawless reputation is too important to you, but Ghost sighs and nods anyways.

“Just tell me what days-” Ghost is barely done talking when you’re spinning around, nearly knocking the table over.

“Really?”

“Whatever will get you to stop being a brat.” Like water off a duck’s back, the insult runs right off of you as you clap your hands together. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to Price’s meeting.” Ghost pushes himself off the wall as you shuffle your scattered papers into organized piles to look through later. Soap leans back, taking a few quiet steps back from the door as you and Ghost start to leave the infirmary.

“Hold on, one sec.” Soap pauses as he hears your hurried footsteps, looking back to your reflection in the glass. Eyes widening, his jaw drops as he watches Ghost let you grab his arm and push yourself up onto your toes to place a quick kiss to the cheekbone of the larger man’s plated skull mask. “Thank you,” you speak softly, taking a couple small steps back.

Soap doesn’t have time to process as you and Ghost step out of the infirmary, immediately spotting him as he stands dumbly in the hallway.��

“Hey Soap! You heading to Price’s office, too?” Soap blinks, shaking off the shock and giving you a quick nod.

“Yeah, I was just about to come get the two of you.”

“Let’s go, then,” Ghost says, turning and walking away without waiting for you or Soap. You fall in step behind him almost instantly, waving Soap over. Soap glances between the two of you as he follows. He knew the two of you weren’t strangers. He’d even speculated you might’ve been friends, but he’d never imagined you might’ve been something more. He wants to know more, but also gets the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t something he should be prying into. Ghost has always been a private man.

Either way, he has no time to think on it further as the three of you enter Price’s office.

The second time, he’s in far too much pain and far too tired to really remember if it actually happened.

Despite everything, the mission had been a success, though the cost had almost been too much. Your team of seven has two unconscious, three severely injured, and the rest sporting a variety of bullet grazes and knife wounds. None dead, thanks to your quick thinking and efficient work. It’s late and the team’s holed up in an old safehouse overnight waiting for evac. Soap is sat up against the far wall, watching you with drooping eyes as you flit around the safehouse, tending to everyone’s wounds. He had been fortunate enough to only have a few minor wounds, but the adrenaline of the fight is fading fast and the comedown is hitting hard.

Ghost is on watch and is the last person you check on, at his own insistence and much to your annoyance. He bats you away from any of the minor cuts and bruises, so you pull up a chair next to his and focus on the deep gash running across his right forearm. Through his sleep-hazed gaze, Soap watches you expertly stitch Ghost’s arm. He can hear the two of you mumbling to each other, but doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher your words. Once you’ve finished wrapping Ghost’s arm, you glance around at the others.

You must assume everyone is asleep by the way you deflate, running a tired hand down your face and stretching your neck with a grimace. You scoot your chair closer to Ghost’s, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against his armored shoulder. To Soap’s surprise and not to yours, Ghost makes no move to push you away, instead shifting so your head’s not at such an awkward angle and settling into his own chair. Soap can feel his curiosity creeping up, but sleep wins out in the end and he passes out not long after.

When he wakes, Ghost is in the same spot, but you’re curled up in a beaten up arm chair across the room still asleep.

When evac finally arrives, everyone is awake, and you and Ghost hardly acknowledge each other as he briefs Price over comms and you help load wounded into the helicopter.

The third time, he’s sneaking through the rain and blood-soaked streets of Las Almas, Ghost guiding him through his ear as he makes his way to the church.

He knows he should’ve seen it coming, but Graves’s betrayal stings nonetheless. Soap pushes the anger down, instead focusing on reaching the rendezvous point so they can escape and rescue Alejandro. The banter helps, but there’s an edge to Ghost’s voice that Soap understands as worry.

They haven’t heard from you since you all were separated.

They both know you can handle yourself, and worrying about it won’t help, so they talk and sort through their situation: what supplies Soap can pick up, how bad tequila tastes, the tactical uses for dog piss. Everything is as fine as it can be while on the run from deadly mercenaries. Until-

“The mask. Take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Can confirm.” Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound of your voice.

“Holy hell, where have you been?”

“Aw, you worried about me, Soap?” The teasing tells him you’re not in too much danger, or are at least somewhere you feel safe, but something in your voice feels…off.

“What’s your status?” Ghost cuts in.

“Managed to get out of the village,” you groan through a deep exhale, and give a haggard laugh, “can’t say the same for the Shadows.”

Ghost gives a quiet hum of praise, but all Soap can hear is the strain in your winded voice. “You alright, Doc? You sound-”

“Dings and scrapes, Soap. I’ll be fine. Meet up with you later.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, “just focus on getting to the church.”

“Right,” Soap mutters. He returns his focus back to the mission at hand, rummaging through the drawers in front of him for rope he can wrap around his extra fan blade.

It hits him just as he spots the reflective shine of a shard of glass on the floor. Can confirm, is what you’d said. Did that mean-

“The Doc’s seen you without the mask.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question.

“Let’s worry about you, Sergeant.”

The fourth time, he lands hard on his feet in the pitch black of Alejandro’s safehouse. Soap has his back turned as Ghost climbs in the window behind him. Luckily for him, as Ghost sees the laser sight aiming right for Soap’s back.

“Don’t move!” Ghost calls out, before launching a knife into the support beam across the room. Soap whirls around to shine his light at the beam just as someone calls out from behind it.

“¿Quién está ahí?”

Before either he or Ghost can answer, someone else stands and walks around to the front, “About time you two showed up!” Your voice is an instant relief as they both relax while you turn back to let Rodolfo know it’s safe to come out.

“Either of you injured?” you ask, eyes scanning over Soap as Ghost hops down from the open window and Rudy returns his knife.

“Nothing major,” Soap assures you, though your eyes linger on the bullet hole in his arm.

“Found this one trying to climb in through the same window,” Rudy explains, nodding towards you.

“I almost had it,” you laugh, leaning to the side to put your weight on the beam. They don’t miss the way you wince, and it doesn’t take long to notice your right leg is a deep red from the knee up.

“Your leg-”

“Looks worse than it is.”

Soap doesn’t believe you, but the subject changes to Graves and he lets it go. The four of you settle around the table as the guys formulate their plan for Alejandro’s prison break. You set your palms atop the table, leaning forward to take as much weight off of your leg as you can so you can focus on the conversation. It doesn’t help much, but it helps enough and soon the plan is concrete enough to take action. While Rudy leads Soap to the weapons locker, you take a seat on a nearby box to check the haphazard bandages you’ve wrapped around your thigh.

“You’re staying here.” Soap glances over as Ghost speaks. You laugh quietly, leaning back on your hands to stare up at the man towering over you.

“Leaving me all by my lonesome?” You sound like you’re complaining, but even from a distance Soap can see the relief in your face. Your teasing does little to soothe the stress radiating from Ghost.

“Just-” Ghost lets out a long sigh before dropping his voice so low, Soap can barely hear his words. “Be careful. Please.” You sit up straight, face suddenly serious as you set a gentle hand on Ghost’s wrist.

“For you? Always.”

“Soap, can you grab the rest of the guns?” Soap snaps back to attention, nodding at Rudy and collecting what guns he can. It takes all of two minutes, and when he turns back, Ghost is sorting through papers and you’ve set to properly bandaging your leg.

By the fifth time something happens, Soap is absolutely sure there’s something between you and the Lieutenant. He notices it everytime the two of you are together: the quiet banter, the dark jokes only the two of you enjoy, the way Ghost always seems to hover near where you’re standing. It isn’t until the 141’s every-so-often night out that his suspicions are confirmed. Gaz and Price stepped away for a round of darts ten minutes ago, and now Soap finds himself sitting alone watching you and Ghost talk at the opposite end of the bar.

“You keep staring like that, and they’re going to notice.” Soap chokes on his drink as Price takes a seat next to him, Gaz snickering as he flops down on Soap’s other side and claps him on the back.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Soap coughs out, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the other end of the bar. Price sees straight through his lie, of course.

“Gaz, why don’t you see if the Doc wants to try a hand at darts?”

“Sure thing, boss.” Another clap on the back and Gaz is making his way over to you and Ghost. Soap startles as Price leans close and nudges him in the side with his elbow.

“Keep your eyes on him,” Price whispers, and leans away to sip at his own glass. Soap takes another drink, sneakily glancing up just as Gaz reaches you and Ghost. You smile widely at him, nodding when he gestures towards the darts board. You turn and say something to Ghost before standing from the bar and following after Gaz to the other side of the room. Ghost’s eyes follow you the entire way, never once leaving your form.

“Watches like a hawk, that one,” Price hums, “and I thought he’d be better at subtlety.” Soap turns to his Captain, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You-” Price shushes him, and nods back towards Ghost. Soap looks back, and they watch as Ghost sets down his empty glass, stands, then makes his way over to you and Gaz. He posts up, leaning against the wall closest to you where you can easily smile at him every time one of your throws lands.

“Like a lost puppy,” Price laughs.

“What’s the situation there?” Soap asks, glancing back at Price, but all Price can offer is a lazy shrug.

“Don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been happening for a long time.”

“Alright, just got a couple papers for you to sign and you should be good to go,” you smile, gently turning Soap’s head to examine the area you’ve just pulled his stitches from.

“Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” You give a playfully dismissive wave, disappearing behind the dividing curtain.

“I’ll be right back!” you call and Soap nods, more to himself than you. He glances around at his sterile surroundings, eyes bouncing from the white walls to the white floor to the white bedsheets. The overbed table sits just next to him, though this time there’s no mess of papers scattered atop it. Instead, there sits a single file and after twenty seconds of solid boredom, Soap can’t help himself.

Lifting from the bottom corner of the file, Soap nearly drops it as he sees your picture clipped to a pile of papers. He looks behind him, pulling the curtain just enough to peer through. He spots you on the far side of the infirmary, waiting patiently at the printer. Letting the curtain fall, he quickly turns back to your file. He flips it open, picking up the paper with your photo attached. It’s an older picture, maybe from three or four years ago, but your smile is still as wide as ever.

Flipping the picture up reveals almost two entire pages of solid black lines. There’s more redacted information here than Soap has ever seen. Soap skims through what few sentences are available, every so often catching things like SIS and specialty interrogation tactics and a slew of words he never would’ve associated with your cheerful demeanor. He gets to the final page that appears to be a printed copy of the photo and his heart nearly stops as he reads the name written at the bottom and everything clicks together in his head.

Your last name is Riley.

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violethargreeves · 8 months

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The Druid - Slasher series

Druid!Connor Rijkers x Fem!Virgin!Reader

TW: obsessive behavior, blood, murderer, mention of drugs and alcohol, s3xual assault, slasher violence, smut, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), masked man, lots of cussing (i'm also just a girl), Connor being overprotective- best friend's brother.

The story line was changed a bit but nothing too drastic, ENJOY!

Word count: 3.7K

The cold thud of the iron dor hitting the wall echoed throughout the whole apartment complex, followed by Kit Jennings desperate pleads for help.

A drug dealer, sex addicted, professional in order disturbance screaming for help running up the stairs.

Not a single soul would dare to step out of their dear homes to help the desperate mess Kit was. His death was nothing more than a simple disturbance in the non-existent peace of the apartments.

But you dared.

You were home alone and slightly opened the door, crossing eyes with Kit before grabbing his bloody hand.

Your hands touched for a splint second before the masked killer pushed him back. Your hand was immediately ripped from his as your eyes crossed the lifeless mask of the killer.

The purple lights coming from the killers mask was the last sprinkle of life Kit Jennings saw before being stabbed five more times before falling to the ground once more, blinking twice.

Whatever happened next, you didn't bring courage of yourself to see enough. The very next second, you shut your door closed while you forced your own silhouette against it.

The loud punches on the door followed a dark, lingering, modified voice sweet calling you.

"Darling...open for me."

Your heartbeats got caught up in a quicker pace as air couldn't leave your lungs.

Your vision became blurry with the tears surfacing your eyes, the panic pressing you entirely down while your senses shut off.

The last thing your heard before dying on yourself were the words of a sweet serial killer;

"I ain't hurting you, love."

The last thing you knew was that the door opened but you couldn't do anything about it.

Your death came.

THE SOLSTICE |

A YEAR AFTER

Nothing but a regular morning where the sun bathed your window with light; a reminder to wake up, as if you had slept anyways.

The last year crime haunted you constantly, reminding you how lifeless and desperate was the look on Kit's face in his last moments.

You couldn't remember anything after the door opening, your only proof that the killer entered your apartment where the bloody marks of his chunky boots on the light colored floor.

The smell of his blood was carved in your memory, as much as you wished the answers of your chemistry exam were.

You had a long day coming, perhaps your last one.

The hallways looked the same as a year before: cold, depressing and lonely.

Not a single soul could be spotted around while you stepped carefully on each stair step, jiggling a full trash bag beside you.

You found your way quickly, shoving the trash bag in one of the huge cans at the parking lot.

You got lost in your own thoughts: Kit Jennings ran through the same parking lot.

Bleeding the life out of himself.

Screaming for help.

"Morning, princess."

The sudden movement startled you, who turned around immediately to seek for the voice.

His morning face looked puffy but never less majestic than always.

His dark eyes stared deeply onto your soul, even when you pretended not to see his look falling slightly to your briefly exposed cleavage.

His smile turned into a smirk a few seconds after, waiting patiently for you to answer.

His shirt was a bit fallen to the side of his left shoulder, exposing a bit of his toned chest.

His arms flexed when he opened the trash can, throwing his own bag inside.

God, his arms where double the size of your head. All you could imagine was the way that his arms would crush your neck if he wanted to. How he could easily manhandle you as he wished so.

Jesus Christ.

You bit your lip while carelessly admiring the damn greek god in front of you.

Your mind was flying a bit too away to care that he may have noticed long ago the way that you were eagerly looking at him.

That man was a fucking monument.

"Y/N?" Stealing you from your trance of prohibited fantasies, your best friend's brother called you again.

"God! Sorry, Connor. Good Morning." You felt embarrassed by how he was looking at you.

His arms crossed while he towered over you, watching you bite your lip nervously.

Of bloody course he noticed you eye-fucking him.

"You were never too discreet, where you, darling?" His hand grabbed your chin, forcing your head up to look at him.

Your eyes met while you felt the familiar burning feeling consume your stomach whenever you felt Connor too close.

The door of the back hanging open was the reason for you to push him away while you tried to put yourself together.

"Connor, Y/N, good morning." Angel's voice sounded sleepily while he opened the trash can, looking both of you up and down before going back inside smiling.

You knew you couldn't have anything with Connor. You couldn't imagine how Jen would react to that and you didn't really felt like loosing one of your best friends.

You offered Connor a glance before going back inside, immediately meeting Jen in your way back.

"Hey, where were you? I was waiting for our breakfast." You felt her glaze burn over you while you tried to form a coherent phrase.

"Shit, so sorry. Got caught up with chores." Yes, you were a fucking liar.

But do you know what else do you wanted to fuck? Conn-

"Hey sis." Connor shoved his hand up Jen's head and you questioned yourself when the hell had he gotten there since you didn’t hear the door open at all.

"You asshole! I spent 30 minutes doing this shit." She referred to the hairstyle that he almost ruined, hitting his chest back.

“Let's go, pretty. We're leaving, finals week." She grabbed you hand while you waved weirdly at the other Rjikers, leaving while trying your best to forget about the past tension in the air.

THE SOLSTICE |

TWO DAYS

Two days after a completed year, half of the school was dressed as the so-called Druid.

In the meantime of an hour you couldn't bear hearing anything coming from a male's mouth anymore.

"Do you want to feel me shove something down your throat?"

The most torturing and ridiculous pick up lines were the only thing that their brains could possibly work to say.

Jen had already been harassed by one of the boys at the lab, talking about her mother's suicide in such cruel and hypocrite way.

After the bell rang, you ran to the parking lot expecting Jen and Saadia, but none of them appeared.

While you waited outside alone, you felt your body freeze while a hand caressed your waist tracing an up and down motion over your shirt.

Immediately turning around, you met the cold blooded killer's mask staring right at your pretty face, holding a machete on the other hand.

"Shut up or i kill you." His deep tone hit you but you couldn’t bring yourself to recognize who was it. The machete was resting against the curve of your neck and you couldn't feel the metal enough to decide if it was real or not.

How come there was no one at the parking lot?

"Please..." A quiet whimper left your trembling lips as your hand got up to touch whoever in their chest.

"Your adorable when you beg." He laughed loudly, throwing the machete on the floor and turning both of you around, in a motion where your back would be facing the wall.

You felt panic wash through you as he ripped off his mask.

"Charlie, WHAT THE FU-" You immediately recognized the stranger's face while screaming. He stopped you there, shoving his mouth on yours while pushing both your wrists against the wall aggressively.

You bit his lip and felt his blood come into your own mouth as he moaned out. Feeling his grip tighten, you kicked his balls certainly, watching as his hands immediately went to find his pain spot, setting you free.

You were quick to walk away, meeting Jen and Saadia at the entrance.

Both of them looked at you scared.

Well, you had blood that did not belong to you staining your lips, death grip marks on both your wrists and your hair certainly looked a mess.

"Are you okay?" Saadia's worried look hit you immediately while she held you close.

"I- Charlie-" You couldn't bring yourself to formulate an answer as your lips started to tremble and your eyes flooded with shiny tears.

Jen was quick to understand and bursted outside, looking for Charlie and finding nothing more than a cheap copy of the Druid's mask that he left behind.

As you walked yourself home, you felt most citizens glare at you. You were on the Dead Pool as first of the list. Everyone was convinced you were going to die soon enough.

Your lonely thoughts never left your head as you walked silently to your own apartment, ignoring Dan’s loud voice at you.

At the end of the hallway, Connor watched you walk alone. You weren’t as shiny as usually. You were the ray of sunshine that cleared up his gloomy days.

You never left your apartment that night.

But your unexpected visit did.

The Druid watched you sleeping peacefully on your couch, dressed in nothing but a pair of a shirt that didn’t belong to you and laced panties.

The killer’s fingers traced their way up your tights as light as a feather feeling your skin crawl at the motion.

Their fingers got hypnotized at the draws of the lace in your panties, enough for them to keep admiring you in your peaceful sleep.

Your angelic figure didn’t take much space at the couch, giving them enough space to set themselves comfortable beside you.

The night was silent and your silent snores took their mind over.

You were theirs.

Whether you liked it or not, you were their property from now on.

And whoever dared to touch you, would have a fucking neon target on their backs.

Oh, how he loved you.

His personal and dear princess.

THE SOLSTICE PARTY |

THE TRUTH

Your visit to a random costume store got you more stress than happiness, Charlie couldn’t help himself in bothering anyone around him.

“Hello, cutie.” His eyes locked on your figure as you left the fitting room dressed in your costume.

“Fuck off, Charlie.” He took a few steps on your direction getting you to take a few back.

Jen and Saadia where at the other fitting room and Connor was at the other side of the store.

Once again, you were on your own.

“What’s up, bitch? No one coming to the rescue?” You felt yourself panic as you realized you were trapped.

For the first time feeling your survival instincts kicking in, you grabbed a small chair and threw on Charlie’s figure, only to find Connor behind him looking flabbergasted.

“Hey.” Your weird smirk to Connor made him feel warm inside, how cute you looked forgetting about the murdering rage he felt seconds ago.

The Druid certainly had his next victim. He just didn’t promise it would be you.

THE SOLSTICE PARTY |

THE ANNIVERSARY

The Solstice party was all everyone at school ever talked about. Actually, everyone at the city.

You could only predict one thing: The amount of Druids there would be nothing but bizarre.

Also, the amount of murderers didn't even need to me mentioned. Frank Dixon had his head chopped off, Cassidy was melted with acid, Xander isn't even to be mentioned, Mrs. Greenberg was dissected alive.

Anyways, that didn't stop reckless teenagers to go celebrate with uncountable drugs, drinks and messy sex.

You couldn't judge much though. You were one of these.

Your fairy fantasy called a bit of attention, specially for someone who barely exposed their body so much.

You, Connor, Jen and Saadia were sitting peacefully at a couch watching everyone do whatever uncontrolled teens do.

The bright lights got you distracted for a while, everything was a bit too bright.

Jen went to grab a drink, Saadia went with her, you guess? Both were gone.

Then, it was just you and Connor.

You looked up at your companion only to find that he was already looking at you.

You felt your cheeks heat up as embarrassment took you over.

"I think i'm going to the bathroom." You gave him a sly smile while you got up.

"Do you know where's it?" He looked at you confused. You were not exactly the party type and you've never been to the solstice party before.

"I have my ways, pretty boy." You winked at him and suddenly couldn't recognize where all that courage came from.

He put his hands up, surrendering and smiling at you with that pretty mouth of his.

Little did you know that moments after you left, he was quick to follow you.

In your way to the bathroom you realized the path which led there was dark. Even though it was dangerous with all the possible murderers, you went with it.

Yet, an arm in front of you stopped your way all of a sudden.

You were quick to look up to the person's face, only to find Charlie once more dressed as the Druid.

"Looks like we meet once more." He looked at you as a shiver went down your spine. You didn't have an immediate reaction as you watched he grab you closely. You tried to scream but his hand was quick to close your mouth. Even if he hadn't, the loud music would be enough to no one hear you. "What about we finish what we started a while ago?"

You tried to fight him only to end up with a cut on your neck from a knife you hadn't noticed he held against you.

As your back faced the wall, you tried your best to scape from him in such a dark alley.

Charlie used to be inoffensive on his jokes. Not anymore, apparently.

Charlie smirked at you as he tried to force your clothes out, only for you to watch as his face became totally pale and blanc in expression.

A baseball bat suddenly went through Charlie's head. You had no reaction as you looked at his back to see the real fucking Druid, holding a silver baseball bat that now was really bloody.

His mask was glowing in purple that lighted up you face as he held Charlie and gave you space to run.

And you did, as fast as you could go through the darkness only to find yourself lost in another dark alley. Just not as dark as the other one. A few of the party's lights could be seen from there, which was easier to possibly run away from the killer.

You were breathless and lost, feeling the cold from the wall behind you as you touched it trying to take control over yourself.

You were so focused on yourself you couldn't hear the sound the Druid's chunky boots made hitting the floor while he walked up to you.

When you came to notice, the Druid was face to face with you caging you to the wall, once more.

"Are you okay, princess?" His voice was deep and a familiarity on it hit your brain, but you couldn't think right.

His mask came to the crook of your neck as he towered over your much shorter figure. You could feel his breath through the small hole of the mask and you asked yourself why weren't you running.

You did know he was a killer. Yet, you weren't as scared as when Charlie came close to you. A familiar delight took over your chest as his voice sounded again.

"He won't hurt you anymore. No one ever will." His breath hit your ear and you felt your whole body grow hotter.

You were mentally cursing at yourself for feeling that way. He was a murderer and had just killed someone in front of you.

Yet, you couldn't help feeling horny at how close he was.

God, you were pathetic.

"I-" Took you a moment to form a coherent phrase as all of a sudden you felt warm, wet kisses being left on your neck. "Are you going to hurt me?"

You couldn't see his face and didn't dare to. But you heard his giggle.

"Never, princess."

His gloved hands met your waist and you felt a pool of your own arousal accumulate on your underwear.

One of his hands moved to the band of your mini skirt, playing with it.

"You are really pretty, do you know that?" Both his hands traveled down your skirt to find themselves under your tights, pulling your legs up to circle his waist.

"I-I've never-" Your breath got caught up in your throat. "Oh god."

You moaned loudly as you felt one of his gloved fingers press firmly against your sweet button.

The friction on your clit made you jump a bit, humping yourself accidentally against his crotch.

"Can i make you feel good, princess?" Your eyes were closed as you knew he was unmasked. His lips found a way to yours as his hands slid up and down your tights.

Your lips together were in a slow and hot motion as your hands met the back of his head, only to encounter the fabric of his hoodie over his head.

As you pushed him closer to you, his tongue slipped inside your mouth in a sloppy and messy kiss.

You had little to no experience, but, kissing him? God, was like meeting heaven without ever entering.

He broke the kiss apart just to look at yours still closed eyes.

"I need you to answer me, princess." He watched closely as your whimpered when he grabbed the flesh of your butt.

"Yes, please." You could feel your voice tremble but you couldn't care less. You knew how wrong you were but you couldn't help. You've never wanted anything harder.

The next second you didn't think much as you felt his hand cup your pussy over your underwear.

You left out a pornographic moan as he was quick to slid your underwear to the side just to slid a finger over your already wet folds.

The wet sounds that left your pussy made you feel hotter than before, your face heating up while grabbing the back of his hoodie, too worked up to even think about who is it or to even open your eyes to his unknown identity.

Still holding you close to his waist, you felt him going down and kneeling on the floor.

With your legs over his broad shoulders, you felt as his hands slid back and forth over your tights and ass.

You opened your eyes to find yourself a bit disappointed. His mask was up his head, which meant you couldn't see anything.

But you could feel.

He slid your panties back to the side only to aggressively shove his tongue over your wet folds, loving the sound of your moans as he pleasured you.

He hummed into your pussy as he licked another strip of it. The shocks it sent over your whole body had you whimpering loudly, as you pushed his head harder over you.

He smiled going down on you, sucking on your clit grinding his teeth lightly against you.

Feeling you moving more over him, he forced his tongue up your clit in an eight nonstop motion.

The pleasure you felt was unmeasurable as a totally new feeling. Christ, you couldn't keep yourself quiet. You were moaning loudly nonstop as he kept sucking you off.

He felt your legs shake as you discovered that new feeling of that knot ready to untie on your lower belly.

Feeling you shaky, his grip on you became stronger, pulling you to himself and sucking on your clit harder.

As you were each second closer to your high, he felt you wet enough to be able to take his fingers.

Whilst sucking on your clit, he guided one of his now ungloved fingers to your tight entrance, pushing it in.

After that, everything felt like a blur.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you as his teeth brushed lightly against your clit at his aggressive motion.

The feeling of him filling you up with only his fingers felt too overwhelming followed by his wet and hot tongue sliding against your most sensitive spot.

He curved his finger inside of you only to hit that spongy spot, snapping the tight knot in your belly and getting a scream out of you.

He smiled while licking you clean, getting up still holding you high with one of his hands, offering the one that was in your pussy for you to lick clean.

Getting his mask right on the face, he got up to stare at you doing a good work.

"Such a good girl." He murmured as you sucked his finger off. You whimpered as he took his finger out of your mouth, feeling you get your consciousness back after getting out of the high your orgasm brought you.

"Keep your eyes open, sweetheart." His ungloved hand slid to his mask, which he pulled off to kiss you now seeing him.

Your lips closed against each other as you felt your own taste on your tongue. You tasted sour and a bit sweet on his lips as you recognized it coming of yourself.

You just then realized he was unmasked. And told you to keep your eyes open, not that you exactly obeyed.

As you opened your eyes you felt the heavy gaze of Connor Rjikers over you.

Just in that moment you realized what you've done. And with who you've done.

In that dark alley and alone with a serial killer you realized he was not just a murderer. He was the guy you were in love with, your best friend's hot brother.

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