"I'm home!" I called as I entered the front door. Wow, what a strange thing to say, I contemplated the phrase. I let out a sigh and pulled my coat off. It had been an interesting day. First I lied to my mother about being in a relationship, then I got the news of my father being hospitalized, and then I ran into my old friend group and ex, followed by me telling Lisa off. That part felt damn good though. I smirked as I recalled the look on her face when I called her out.
"Welcome home." A deep, soothing, familiar voice called to me. However I didn't quite catch what area of the house it was called from. I began to wonder towards my guess of his location. I looked around the living room, then made my way across the house to the kitchen, and poked my head through the door frame. No sign of him.
Puzzled, I huffed. Then suddenly the familiar sensation of strong arms wrapped around my waist, and warm breath was by my ear. "Looking for me?" He purred in my ear. You'd think by this point I wouldn't blush so often to the interaction, yet the sensations always felt new. I turned slightly in his direction. "Where were you hiding?" I asked. "I wasn't hiding, you just didn't know I was coming." I gave a pout to his response. "How was your little day trip?" He asked. "Exhausting." I responded plainly. "You were seeing your mother, right? How'd that go?" He asked as he followed me over to the table. I set my pack of cigarettes down as he took a seat on the chair I stood beside. "Well, my mom thinks I have a boyfriend now." I stated. He showed immediate interest in the topic. "Oh really?" He said, leaning on his elbow. I began inspecting my lighter, flicking it and seeing how many tries it took to light, anything to avoid this embarrassing topic, even though I felt proud originally of the lie I had spun on the others.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" He asked me, leaning towards me with a curious timbre. My eyes widened at his question. "N-no." I muttered confidentially. He hummed in response, and said, "Good to know." I looked in his direction and asked, "Why's that?"
"Because..." He began, as he stood to his feet and lingered behind me, gradually wrapping his arms around me. "I don't want anyone after what is rightfully mine." I quivered in delight at his words. "You belong to me now, understand?" He whispered in my ear. I nodded quickly, the redness spreading across my cheeks once more.
Unexpectedly he pulled me down with him as he fell back into the chair. I was now resting on his lap, and he squeezed me tightly into place. I wiggled a little bit from the excitement of the situation, followed by him holding me in even tighter. I made a slight noise like a squeak and immediately regretted it as he began to laugh. "Stop laughing!" I demanded, "I can't help it! The noises you make are priceless!" He continued laughing, pressing his masked face into my back. I went back to pouting, but remained on his lap.
After a few seconds, his laughter settled, and he drew up his head. I felt the cloth of his mask shift, and then his warm lips pressed to my neck. I made a very subtle moan as I felt the sensation. "That's it. Make more noise for me." His words were breathy and exciting. His lips continued there work. "Ghost..." I called softly to him. I attempted to turn in his direction, for I wanted to get the full treatment I had experienced just the other day before a phone call interrupted us. He stopped me however. He wrapped one of his arms around my waist, holding me tightly, and his other arm reached up, his hand covered my eyes. He began to nibble and suck on the delicate skin of my neck. I whimpered and moaned softly. He seemed as well to feel less of a need to hold back. His breaths held groans as they were let out. He sucked and licked a spot for quite a while, then pulled back. His hand upon my waist moved up, using his fingers to trace in circles over the spot his lips had just met.
"There. A souvenir." He chuckled. I assumed what he meant by that was he left a mark.
"You know, you really interest me." He said, shifting so his head rested on my shoulder. Both his hands traveled back down to wrap again around my waist. My heartbeat was quickening, trying to identify what he implied by that comment. "What do you mean?" I asked him. "You didn't seem afraid of me at all, that first night we had in your room. Why is that?" I turned my head away from him. I was embarrassed by what I was about to admit. "I'd been admiring you for a while before you showed up. I was nervous, scared even. An intruder was in my house after all. But I felt like I already knew you somehow...I was excited when I saw you. Confused too, but...really excited." My words grew quieter as I trailed on. He kissed my cheek. "I'm glad. I'm sure you know this already, but if you would have been afraid of me...you'd be dead right now." My breath ceased for a moment. Those finishing words were dark and cruel sounding, likely on purpose. I hadn't really thought much about it. If I didn't know who Ghostface was, if I hadn't had a piece of art work proving that, just sitting on the screen of my monitor. If I didn't show arousel more than fear that night...
"All I would have amounted to was just another photograph." I whispered. He seemed surprised when I made that analysis. "How do you know about that?" He asked me. I didn't think before I spoke, and realized I shouldn't have known about the details of his photographic hobbies. I felt nervous, knowing it seemed like I had snooped at one point. My best option was to be truthful I felt.
"At my work..." I began, "sometimes when I go on my break, there happens to be two people who sit in the same spot pretty regularly and chat. One of them is a police officer, I think he works on your case. The other day I overheard them talking again, about how they found your hideout, and about...the photographs." Ghostface was silent for a minute, then exhaled over my shoulder. He leaned back in the chair, holding my hips with both his hands. He hummed in response finally. I felt anxious of his reaction, as well as very curious.
"So they really were on my trail. Good thing I came along you that night. Seems my fame is spreading. Good." I sat anxiously still in his lap, silent. I wasn't sure what it was about the situation. It was like the atmosphere of the room completely changed. I think he picked up on that as well. He leaned in once more, one of his hands trailed up once again, but this time his fingers wrapped themselves around my neck. He was gentle but had a firm grip around me. I closed me eyes and tried to breath normally, to not indicate the rising panic. He tilted his head so his lips were by my ear, and asked in a sinister tone, "Are you afraid of me, (y/n)?"
I thought for moment. Was I afraid of him? If not of him, than at the least his actions, surely? Moments like these were tense, but they felt more like they carried a weight of anticipation and anxiety from waiting on the unknown. I wouldn't have described it as fear. Especially when I thought back on our many moments together.
"I can't say I am. Whenever I think about you, I get anxious, but I don't think it's the kind of anxiety that comes from fear. You're living here with me, and I don't mind that. You're good to me...if anything I get anxious because I'm not used to our interactions, and really I still don't know you at all."
We sat in quiet for a brief period.
"Well, you never really ask." He said. Feeling annoyed by that comment, as though he was insinuating it was easy just to ask a known serial killer about his life, I turned to look at him now, forcing out of his grasp on my hips. I stared at him, and his still exposed lips. I made a face that would suggest my annoyance and said, "You know that's not easy to do." He laughed slightly, in a sweetened tone. "How about right now then? You have questions for me, right? What would you like to know?" He tilted his head in the way I found oddly attractive, and waited for my first question. I thought deeply, concerned this would be a situation where I was only really allowed one question. I looked down at the floor and pressed a finger to my lip. Honestly his name would be nice to finally know, or maybe what his fascination of photographing his victims was about. Gradually though a more pressing questioned entered my mind. I looked up at him, he had been sitting patiently.
"How did you know my name?"
He tilted his head slightly again and pursed his lips. Maybe he didn't like that question, or was trying to think of the best way to go about explaining it.
Then to my surprise he laughed. "What?" I asked dumbfounded as to why he would be laughing. It was a legitimate question after all. "Sorry," he said covering his charming smile and waving his hand. "It's just that I'm surprised it took you so long to ask me that." I scowled at him. It was true, I could be very absent-minded a lot of the time, and it did take me longer than I was willing to admit to catch on to the fact that he even knew my name to begin with, but that question had been looming over my head for a while. "How then? There's no way you could have known. Nobody has been around the entire time I've been here to refer to me by name."
He chuckled at my growing, and eager curiosity. "Well, the short and easy answer is..." He leaned into my face, our noses barely toughing. "I already knew you." My eyes became wide. That couldn't be possible. Surely if I knew him already it would have been obvious by this point. I would have recognized his voice, or his body language and caught on by now. "No way, I don't believe that! I definitely don't know you!" I protested. He simply smiled and said, "Oh we didn't know each other well, only briefly, but I knew the moment I laid my eyes on you that I wanted to go after you next. I wanted to watch your face when my knife went through you, and capture the details of it for my next article." Article? What was he talking about? Not to mention his hands were back to my waist again, and his grip was intensening. "Who are you?" I asked with desperation and a deadly curiosity.
"Well, when you knew me, I was known as Jed Olsen."
My expression went from intense interest to a lifeless one. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt limp at first, but then I felt as though I was burning. Suddenly my body moved on its own, and my hand raced up to grab his mask. He seemed shocked as he flinched from my hand. He grabbed my wrists as I tried to pry away the mask. My mind was racing. Confusion, disbelief, curiosity, and worst or all an absence of the memory. What did he look like? I couldn't remember! My social anxiety had kept me from looking up at him directly through the entire interview. What did I remember? What was there? Dark hair, and a charming smile. That was all I could think of. I hadn't remembered his voice, or took the color of his eyes to heart. I didn't recall the shape of his jawline or the way his brow furrowed when he spoke. Nothing. I mentally cursed myself for being this way. So incapable that really I knew the identity of the killer and yet somehow at the same time I didn't!?
"Hey! (Y/n)!?" He shouted at me in defence as I tried as hard as I could to remove the mask.
"No! There's no way! There's no way the man who stole everything from me, the reason why I had to leave the city and couldn't follow my dreams anymore, has been the same man haunting my dreams, has had me begging for his affection, and making me fall for him, in my own home!"
I shrieked my words at him, gradually beginning to fall apart in the process. The words became sobs, and my heart wrenched. In the struggle the chair tipped and we were both thrown to the floor by the force. I somehow managed to stay on top, and due to the sudden fall I managed to get the upper hand. Finally, in one veil swoop I ripped the white, shrieking mask from his head and tossed it across the kitchen. Finally the sheet had been pulled from the head of the ghost that had been haunting me, and the truth was reveiled.
Bright blue, the most beautiful blue I'd ever seen. Long, dark hair, about chins length. A pale complexion, completely perfect. His cerulean blue eyes were wide, and they stared through me like an animal's in fear, like a doe caught in a beartrap, waiting for the large black dog in front of it to close it's teeth on its neck.
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Upon the Gaze (Ghostface X Reader 18+)
Fanfiction(Ghostface X Depressed Female Reader) Premise: A young women has recently moved into a new home that her late grandfather passed onto her. Between her loneliness, anxiety disorder and depression, she finds her one way to cope is by researching and...
