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colorfuldream · 6 months

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Watched a really nice video about Island of the Slaughtered and in order to free my mind from it, I'll rant about it and give some headcanons

TRIGGER WARNING for death, torture, ghosts/malevolent spirits, light SA mention/talk at the very end (it'll be in bold to be easier to notice! It starts after "Based on your thoughts about Heather, the text will take on new meanings yet work").

So, it's rare for writing to scare me. However, for some reason, this did give me a fright. Maybe the way the YouTuber read it, or perhaps the music and ambiance he added, is why I was hyper-vigilant while showering but the concept itself is terrifying when you think about it. 15 people died! You'd think that the kill count would stop, that they would survive for longer, but they don't. Even smart or athletic characters get caught... And for the dumbest reasons. Exactly like teenagers. They all make mistakes yet, somehow, this is barely their fault. They couldn't have planned it. They couldn't have known. The killer is almost omnipotent, it's like they can smell whenever there's an opportunity. They don't seize the simple moments of weakness (like how they didn't keep watch or, at least, only had one person which is exactly how Harold managed to sneak out and get killed), they wait until they can get that perfect chase or opportunity to torture the campers.

I feel like the sheer number of victims is what gets me. It's so easy to assume that they're all competent enough to survive a little longer. What makes it hit harder is that the last footage of those poor teens is the beginning of TTI up to Ezekiel's death. Imagine seeing the beginning of a horror movie composed of your loved ones and not knowing how it ended or, worse, learning that they were a victim, brutally killed, and you can't even have the body back. A whole month. That's how long it took for someone to go help them. Everyone knew. And no one did anything. Fucking Chris McLean ended up doing it. The same man who abandoned them, got them into this mess, and refused to say where the island was located.

Now, some headcanons before I overthink two of the deaths:

The canon serial killer and the one in this AU cohabit in the island. Maybe on good terms too. Our buddy with the hook and the chainsaw is just chilling, maybe helping out a little his mate, but enjoying the show. The chainsaw used for Heather might even be his! What a good pal.

The ghosts see each other as they were before their deaths. Be it that they're imagining it or that they can manifest a not-scary look. Owen and Geoff are forced to stay close but they really don't mind!

They don't really care for Chris's helpers. Sure, they were angry and disliked them, throughoutly tormenting them, but they weren't the target. They likely could have killed them, as the helpers probably accidentally broke some rules, but they were pawns to torment and scare Chris further. At some point, they begin to leave them alone as they realize that the helpers are their age... They're like them. Chris brought two more teenagers on an island with a serial killer, a monster who dismembered Ezekiel, with no experience and no actual weapons. Fuck, they're normal teens. What are they doing here?! This just angered the ghosts even more and cemented their desire to take revenge against Chris.

As long as Chris doesn't realize that he broke some rules, they let it go. Those are only here to scare him and make him squirm. To make him know that they're here at all times, watching, waiting for him to slip, loathing him.

While it's canon that the ghosts are fine with the survivors unless you've slighted them, they won't impose their rules and haunt you. They'll maybe taunt you and be here, reminding you that they died partly because of you, but they won't do much. For example, Trent will simply check in on Gwen. Her guilt is already enough and he doesn't have it in him to cause her more remorse. However, the sound of his voice as he sings into the night, kills her inside. He doesn't mean to but she's being eaten alive at not being able to get him out —even though she would have died with him if she stayed or manager to free him and they both know it. Noah, on the other hand, will glare at Duncan and make snippy remarks whenever he's trying to give out instructions. He'll question his choices and at every hint of annoyance, simply raise an eyebrow and in his classic tone say "really?" which guilts Duncan enough for his taste. He also chirps in when Duncan inevitably realizes that he was right about some of the directions, the bitter realization that they were both wrong and right about some things, that this was a misunderstanding and they were both too stubborn to work it out, that Noah could have survived if he hadn't been a jerk. All Noah had to say was "told you so" and Duncan would dig his nails into his palms at the cruelty he had displayed.

The reason why the ghosts didn't get the killer immediately is because they didn't know the limits to their powers and they were scared. Simple as that.

To add onto that, they used Chris as bait to make sure everyone else got out safe. They made Chris's death longer and more painful than anything they had gone through before immediately killing the murderer. That or they then tormented them until they died, either of natural causes or of fright.

Time for me to overthink two of the deaths!

My choice is Ezekiel and Heather. Ironically, they're the beginning and the end, both pictured as innocent and young.

Quick note for both of them but the ghosts may look like that because that was their last state as living. Yeah, I'm implying that they were dismembered alive.

Ezekiel:

I LOVE the writing for his discovery. It comes across as child-like, even when it comes to his corpse. You could say I love it to bits.

It's easy to forget that he was a sheltered kid after everything that happened in the canon. Here, he's portrayed as sweet and so, so much like a child. Someone who didn't deserve it.

He was an easy target. He might not even have noticed that anything was amiss until it was too late.

It would take time to find every part of his body. Did the crew search for him before setting off? I doubt it. They likely put things together quick and bailed, never finding his every piece.

A small detail that came up was that the hole Katie hid in might have been the one where his arm was. I like to think it was and she had to bite back her scream. The killer could have thought that they didn't need to search for her, she'd abandon her friend and get back to safety or if she didn't, she'd have screamed her head off at finding a rotting arm as she tried to hide.

His rule is the most interesting part to me. Chris will have to search for his body once but then he will simply have to run to them every time afterwards... And that's the last thing you want to do when there's a killer on the loose! It's also very, very fun for a video game. All the rules are! The art not being too scary either would make it very good. Anyhow!

If Chris needs to bring them back together, it's even more horrifying. Would he need to carry them with him in case Ezekiel wants to bother him? Do they go back to their original places and he needs to do everything every time?

Picture his voice. It isn't scary. Yet it would make it so much more eerie and unsettling. While true for every victim, his ghost doesn't even look scary. Again, it's child-like. And with everything else, it makes a wonderful picture.

Heather:

I love EVERYTHING about this one. The reference, the call backs to the canon... The writing!

I'll keep the latter for the end as it will tackle more sensitive content.

God, the way she's the last warning. Threatening. Vengeful. Exactly how she was in canon and how Chris perceived her.

The fact that she was found by the two most important people to her character! Iirc, Gwen found her head which is a shame since it's a reference to when Leshawna (sorry for the spelling guys) stuck her inside of the fridge.

The way she was grabbed by her ponytail! It's the way she wore her hair in latter seasons.

Off with her head for the queen bee. The stereotypical mean, popular girl.

Now for the writing: This was a straight-up call-out to her haters. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the way it directly calls Chris, and us, out. She was a kid. She was terrified, begging, small and alone as she was killed. It makes sure we get that. We know her as a mean girl but she was a girl. She didn't deserve it. The way her suffering was highlighted, showing that she was crying like a young kid, compared to the others' was well-written and hit harder than the rest. It can even imply that Heather pretended to be meaner than she was for the show. It's a valid theory for the canon, she was cunning and she knew it made her memorable. But that meant that Chris truly thought she was. Based on your thoughts about Heather, the text will take on new meanings yet work.

Last trigger warning for SA:

"She was pretty". Amazing. Perfect. That, by itself, tells me that the creator is a very good writer and knows how horror works.

Listen. Listen up well. The SA headcanon isn't bad. Is it gross? Yes. The entire AU is. SA is. However, we've grown desensitized to murder and gore. Not SA. It still feels horrible and outrageous. That's why it works and makes for good horror. BUT! The thing is not to overdo it. Not say too much, not use it too much. Especially not as a fetish.

Here, it's done perfectly. Yes, she's a minor. They all are and most got brutally murdered. So a creepy murderer isn't that bad.

The implications that he kept her head because he found her pretty are amazing. It makes her fate so much more tragic. It brings a new level of cruelty and disgusting to her death. We know that he doesn't have pure intentions. Just staring at her frozen head is horrible enough. We know the way he looks at her, how he sees her. It also raises the question why. Why her? Canonically, most of the girls are pretty. Lindsey, in particular, was the most beautiful. Was it because Heather cried and begged? Was it because he had disfigured the others before he could notice their looks? Is it because he found that "submitting her" made her better? (Which is incidentally a real thought process r*p*sts have. Some like to bring some people down a peg by doing those awful things, hating how they felt inferior because their poor victims didn't look at them or at the world "right".)

It's a real question and worry that this simple like brings. It brings a real, scary subject we aren't desensitized to just yet into this and enhances the horror. It doesn't say too much, it isn't insensitive. We won't ever know what the killer would/will do. We just know he's a vile piece of shit on every level.

It's also a huge contrast to how child-like Heather was described as and how it was hammered into our heads. It's said so simply, almost like another child would say. "Oh she's pretty". It isn't said in a gross way! That's very good writing. It keeps the same tone. It's almost eerie with how simple and factual it is.

That headcanon exists (and might be popular, I don't look at the fandom) because the line and implications are there. Horror should make you uncomfortable and that's what this does. Of course, personally, I wouldn't say the killer did anything. But, he might have planned to. He might have after the body was discovered. It wasn't like the campers had the time to bury their friends or would fathom that this monster thought Heather was pretty.

It all depends on the delivery and of course some edgelords will be insensitive and approach it terribly. I think the actual AU did it exactly how it should be done.

The entire Heather section was done as best as it could ever be.

#text #total drama island #island of the slaughtered #tdi #tdi au #sa warning #death warning #murder warning #torture warning #i don't know how to tag trigger warnings #i like italics a little too much

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starlight-library · 3 months

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IOU | OP81

pairing: ghostface!oscar x ghostface!reader

summary: reader & oscar are best friends but reader would love to get a shot with ghostface. what they don’t know is that their chances are closer than they think…

warnings: [DARK THEMES USED & SMUT] slightly descriptive murder, mention of stalking stalking, mention of blood, breath play, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping, dom!oscar, sub!reader, degradation, hair pulling (if you squint??), face fucking, deep throating

a/n: once again, dark themes used! please read the warnings above!!! i answered a asked on my main here and decided to make a oneshot of it (yes i quote J's ask cause it was too good). tbh didn't even plan for a plot but here we are! I know my answer and this are vastly different...i don't wanna talk about it. also ghostface!oscar series belongs to @piastrification so homie this one is for YOU!! Also happy belated Valentines day omg. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏽

word count: 4.5K

This week has started out to be one of the worst weeks you’ve had in a very long time. Monday started off with your car breaking down on the way to campus and you completely missed your first class. When you got to campus an irritated Oscar was waiting asking why the hell you didn’t call him. “Even though I was in class, I would’ve left and gotten you,” he told you. You weren’t in the mood to argue so you just apologized and told him you’d call him next time which seemed to ease his irritation slightly. Seemed he also had a pretty shitty Monday.

Tuesday brought your shitty manager everyone hates at your job to end a relatively quiet day. It was the typical bullshit but still didn’t mean you had to enjoy it. You spent the whole drive home on the phone with Oscar screaming your head off about all the things your manager had done. The micro-managing of your work, the snarky remarks, the extra work so he can just fuck off in the back, god you could not stand this manager at all. Oscar listened like he always did. “You don’t deserve that,” you could hear the frown in his voice, “honestly he shouldn’t even be a manager. I could take care of him for you.” You laughed. You thanked Oscar for the offer but you had already decided that your manager would be your next victim. It would be tricky considering everyone in the store knew how much you two despised each other but it would get done.

You ended up with a stomach bug on Wednesday. You woke up around four in the morning with a jump and just made it to the bathroom before you got sick. You stayed in there for a good hour before there was nothing left in your system and you dragged yourself back to bed. You somehow coherently managed to message your professors you’d be missing class due to illness and texted Oscar that you’d be out sick today before promptly falling asleep. You woke to a knock on your front door and dragged yourself out of bed. You made a face seeing Oscar standing outside with a bag. “What are you doing?” You ask.

“Taking care of you. Can I come in?”

“What if you catch it? What about classes?”

You watch Oscar simply pull a KN95 mask out of his pocket. You narrowed your eyes as he slipped it on. You didn’t need to see his face to see the cheeky smile he was giving. His eyes twinkled slightly with humor as he gently turned you around and guided you back inside your place as he listed the things he brought over and how he can afford missing one day to make sure you eat and rest, a habit you tend to struggle with. He really was a good best friend.

Thursday is really when you hit your limit. Arriving on campus you and Oscar head to class though neither of you really paid attention. You two spent most of the time texting each other even though you guys were sitting right next to each other. When class ended the two of you headed to the closest campus cafeteria before parting ways. You got on the line to grab the food while Oscar secured you two seats since it was roughly lunch time and everyone would be out and about.

Carrying the two to-go containers after paying you make your way to the back left corner. It’s usually where you and Oscar sat and enjoyed just people watching and gossiping about other students but you slowed your walking. Oscar was looking up at someone. Fucking Brittany. One of the sororities girls. Sorority president actually. Brittany was in a nice blouse, a skirt, some fucking heeled boots. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she was leaning forward slightly while smiling wide at Oscar.

Jealousy hit you like a truck. You grip the to-go containers tighter while standing frozen in your spot watching them. You wanted to march over and tell her to fuck off. Grab your stupid bun and slam her head into the table until she’s bleeding out. Or maybe take the plastic forks that rested on top of the to-go containers and gauge her eyes out for having the audacity to even look at Oscar. Alas, you refrained from it all. Instead you just tilted your chin up and made your way over with a tight smile. “I’m back!” You announce to Oscar. The both turn to face you and Oscar visibly relaxes slightly but Brittany is giving you a once over clearly unimpressed. You turn and blink, feigning surprise. “Oh! Brittany. Hi,” you keep your tone light and friendly, “what brings you here?”

“Oh, I was just talking to Oscar,” Brittany smiles, “we’re partners for our history project.” You could give two shits less what it was as you spy Brittany’s hand moving to Oscar’s upper arm and resting there with ease. Something so subtle but could come off as flirty and you wanted to cut her hand off. How dare she think she can touch Oscar like that? “…and wanted to see if he wanted to come to the frat party Saturday night,” she concludes.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet of you. Can he bring a plus one?” You ask putting the containers down, sliding one over to Oscar.

“If he wants…” Brittany glances at Oscar with a smile then back at you, “but we need to know to make sure they’re on the list. Even then…it depends on the mood if everyone gets in.”

“Then it seems kinda stupid for a list, don’t you think so?” Oscar asks finally. Brittany laughs. It wasn’t even that funny. You realize now that she’s flirting with Oscar. Well. This just won’t do. Not like you care anyway. Oscar is your best friend. Sure you love him but it’s platonic -or so you tell yourself- so it shouldn’t bother you but it does. It does bother you because Brittany was the queen heartbreaker. She used guys until she got bored. Until they got attached and couldn’t offer anything else after giving her everything. You were not about to have Oscar be a pawn in her fucking game. You had missed the remark Brittany gave as you sat down, your heart pounding in your ears.

“…let me know!” Brittany calls out as she’s already walking away.

“Ugh. As if,” Oscar murmurs and turns his attention to you. “Hey,” he starts softly. Bring your gaze to him and you blink, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage a smile, “I’m fine. Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” You ask to divert the subject as now you might have something fun to do this weekend.

* * *

Personally, you never understood the hype of sororities and managed to curb every single one who tried to recruit you. It was just a bunch of girls with money and tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a cult but it most certainly was if you got in. Moving into the house, what they expected you to wear, how to act in public, who can and cannot date, for fuck sakes they monitored your social media post and if they didn’t approve of something you posted they would either make you take it down or probably kick you out. You much preferred your freedom over dealing with that bullshit.

Luck had shined down on you when you heard some of the girls mention Brittany couldn’t go to the bar tonight because she was under the weather and just ‘had to get better for tomorrow in case her special guest came’. It was a miracle that you didn’t march over here and slaughter Brittany right then and there but you bide your time. You had to be careful.

Now, slipping the mask on, you give it a five minutes after everyone else leaves before slipping through the back door. Standing quietly, you listen to the water running and slowly making your way through the house. Climbing the stairs you follow the noise until you’re outside the bathroom. You hear Brittany singing and you silently open the door. Steam hits your face and it takes everything not to cough from the sudden heat. Stepping in you watch Brittany’s silhouette run her fingers through her hair. Gripping the hilt of your knife, you inch forward. When Brittany turns you stab the knife through the shower curtain and straight in her heart. Twisting, you step forward until Brittany is pinned against the wall as she weakly has a hold of your wrist trying to pull the knife out her screams being drowned out by the shower and her choking on her own blood. You pull out before stabbing again to ensure that there was no chance she would be able to survive. When her attempts falter, you pull the knife out. Cleaning the knife off, you slip out of the house the way you came smirking knowing the rest of them wouldn’t have hot water for a long time.

Carefully you pack everything into your backpack you left in the woods by the house before securely zipping it. Slinging a strap over your shoulder, you start to head back to your apartment. You emerge from the treeline right into an alleyway and into town which is bustling with college kids. Perks of living in a college town. You just turn left and make your way back to your apartment which is a bit further uptown and you notice as the people start to thin out.

You feel eyes burning into the back of your skull. Turning your head over your shoulder, you stop. At the end of the block you see a figure in all black and an identical mask standing there. Normal people would do anything but stare. Call out to the figure, turn away and walk, call the police, something except just stand there silently and face off with this killer. Copycat killer that is. You suppose you’d have fans, sick and twisted probably, but you didn’t expect you’d end up creating a copycat killer. Not that you minded, actually the gesture touched you actually. People had been too stupid to realize it was a copycat but not you.

After all, their first kill happened to be one of your best friends you recently dropped.

You can’t even remember why but you arrived to apologize and found her body on the floor, throat cut. It was a bit messy. The cut wasn’t as clean as you would’ve expected and there was blood everywhere. Even on the poor bitch’s hands. Then you realize that there’s a few stab wounds. Seemed she put up a fight before whoever did it got the kill. Then someone clears their throat and you raise your gaze.

There you saw him.

An identical ghostface mask, black long sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Personally you preferred boots but to each their own. As much as some little sane part in your head told you to stop judging this person’s choice in shoes and run, you stood there staring because god he was so *distracting*. Honestly, the tight fit long sleeve should be illegal for killers to wear. It clung to him defining each curve of his muscle and you couldn’t help but get turned on because well–they’re a well fit masked killer.

“Did you do this?”

The killer nodded. Silence fell upon the two of you before you finally asked, “why?”

“...Why?” The voice asked. A shiver ran down your spine hearing the low murmur. A voice modulator just like you. Smart and well fit? Shit, “that’s all you can ask? Why? Aren’t you supposed to be running and screaming?”

“Well I find that a bit stupid,” you retort, “you’re right here. Masked or not, you're taller. You have length compared to my short legs. I might have you in agility and you’re a bit messy with your killing. Shaky in the hands.” You tilt your head to the masked figure with a small smirk. You watch the figure tighten his grip on the hilt of the knife before he’s in front of you in about four steps. You gasp as your head is yanked back by your hair, knife against your throat.

“Are you asking to be killed right now?”

“I mean you gonna fuck me before you kill me?”

Ghostface reels their head back slightly. Stupidly, they loosen their grip from the shock. Taking your chance, you grab the first with the knife and twist it away from you. They shout out in pain as you get your hair free and release their wrist before kicking the figure harshly in the stomach. You step on the figure’s chest a bit harshly. Smirking down at him, “expect the unexpected sweetheart. But you never answered me. Why?”

You can hear something faintly. You cannot believe this guy is mumbling. Leaning down slightly, you turn your ear, “I can’t hear you,” you tease.

“I did it for you.”

Now you’re stunned. You lean back slightly, hand over your heart. You don’t dare move though. You expect it to be some sick joke but the laughter never came. You bite your bottom lip having half the mind to suck him off right then and there. You stay strong though. Instead, you move to stand over the figure and bend down and hook a finger under his mask. His hand flies to your wrist and you laugh.

“I’m not gonna take your mask off,” you explain, “Trust me. Right now I am getting extremely horny and I don’t think I can handle you being ugly under the mask. Would just completely kill the mood.” You laugh hearing the figure let out an offended noise, “but aren’t you sweet,” you tilt your finger up and the figure follows, lifting his chin, “don’t be a stranger, yeah? Now, you should get off so I can feign the heartbroken emotional ex- best friend.”

Ghostface is in front of you now. He’s got your chin between his thumb and finger staring down at you and you blink as you come out of your memory. He’s close and you can hear his soft breathing which forces your own breath to hitch. You curl and uncurl your fingers and you hear a small huff behind the mask accompanied by a smirk you assume. “My,” he murmurs softly, “what do we have here. You shouldn’t be walking alone at night like this little one. You never know what lurks in the dark.”

You take a deep breath to keep your voice even. Pressing your thighs together you try so hard to stop the heat that’s starting to spread through your body. You should not be getting this turned on but how could you not? You had a copycat killer who kept killing people that you had issues with somehow and someway. “I–” You start, biting your bottom lip trying to find the words but you’re cut off with a chuckle.

“You’re so worked up for me. I can see it in the clench of your legs, the flush on your cheeks, the way your pupils dilate and the way you bite your lip for me. You don’t even know who I am. I could be a total stranger, who followed you home one night and just never stopped, but I could also be your best friend, that you’ve known for years, who you think you know like the back of your hand. You don’t even know. But I know one thing for certain though- I’m sure your panties, if you’re even fucking wearing any, are already soaked.”

You hate the fact he’s right. Your breathing slightly heavy as your eyes widen as you listen. Shifting, you clench your thighs even tighter as one of your hands slips between your thighs slightly. You can’t see his eyes but you can feel his stare bruning into yours and you actually look away. This hasn’t happened before.

“Look. At. Me.”

Your eyes snap back and your mouth hangs open slightly. You can feel how wet you are every time you shift and by god do you need something here. “What do you want, love?”

“I would very much like to take you up on that offer and suck you off,” you nod your head in the direction of the alleyway.

“Excited, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been at this for months of fucking course I’m excited.”

He grips your jaw tightly, “I’d watch that tone if I were you. I can happily just walk away and leave you here alone.” Your eyes travel downwards and spy his half hard bulge against his jeans and then back up, “I can handle myself and sleep much more satisfied than you probably would with your fingers,” leaning close to your ear, “but I’d be a fool to leave you so desperate without giving you a taste.” Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head but he lets go of your jaw and spins you around, smacking your ass. You startled with a yelp before quickly scurrying to the alleyway.

Any sane person, seeing the alleyway lead to the woods, probably would have taken the chance to run but not you. You were so desperate to finally fuck this copy cat that you spun around as he rounded the corner. You gasped as your back slams against the brick wall feeling pain through your shoulder for only a brief moment as your hands fly to Ghostface’s wrist as he holds you there by your throat. Oddly enough your calm even though he could easily choke you as your breathing becomes a bit more jaded. Lifting his mask slightly you stare at the slightly chapped but pink lips as you drop your bag. They look so familiar, why?

You can’t really think longer on it as he moves his hand up to your jaw tightly and his lips are on your neck as you gasp for air. He wedges his knee between your legs and immediately you roll your hips whining loudly. You let your eyes drift close as the figure litters your neck in kisses along with marks. You let the figure tilt your head so he can litter the otherside in matching marks. Your nails dig into his wrist earning a hiss against your neck. When he pulls back your eyes stare at his lips and you’re so tempted for a taste. You find yourself starting to lean in before he’s pushing you onto your knees. Blinking, you're now eye level with his obvious bulge and glance up at him fixing his mask.

Dropping your gaze, your hands get straight to work. Undoing his jeans you pull the zipper down before pulling his pants down just enough. You hold your breath seeing the outline of his cock because oh it looks so much bigger than you’ve had which…was very few. There was only one way to really find the truth. You let your fingers dance across the waistband of his boxers before you tug, cock basically popping free. You lean back with wide eyes because it is bigger than you’ve had. It’s actually the biggest you’ve ever had. The length was maybe just an inch or two over average which was impressive enough but it was the girth that really made your mouth water and the precum leaking out just makes you drool.

Gently wrapping a hand around his cock, the figure’s breath hitches as he bucks his hip. You give a few experimental tugs not really for a reaction but more so to get a feel of him in your hand. Big. Girthy. Heavy. God, how pent up was he? You feel fingers through your head as you continue to cautiously jerk him off before licking the tip. The reaction pulled out of the figure was a low satisfied groan and it encourages you to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip before sucking, alternating between the two before you finally you’re ready.

If you had known how big he was you would’ve been a bit more…prepared. You weren’t naive enough to think you could take all of him down your throat. God no. Maybe with some training and patience later if the figure would let you but you didn’t have either of those things or really time on your side. Still, you had to make sure to keep the figures interested in you- even if he’s killed for you already. Better safe than sorry, right?

Hollowing your cheeks out and flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, you start to suck him off. Bobbing your head you can’t help but feel a bit of a rush go to your head as the figure above lets out another loud ground. You glance up to see the figure’s neck as his head is tilted back. You're absolutely drenched watching him and find yourself slipping a hand into your own pants and moan around him as you rub your clit. That catches his attention as his head snaps down to look at you.

“Naughty girl. You’re so turned on from sucking me off that you have to touch yourself?” It earns a strangled whine, “such a pathetic slut.”

You can’t help but moan at that. “Wow. You are so fucking pathetic it’s adorable.” The figure coos and grips your hair to stop you. Shifting, he puts one foot in front of you and smirks, “here why don’t you just hump my leg while you’re at it.” He taunts.

Funny enough you’ll take him up on that. The moment he frees your head you go back to bobbing your head on his cock humming in delight as you hug his leg, settling on his foot and grind your hips down. If your lips weren’t so occupied at the moment you would smirk at the shocked reaction you pull from the figure but you’re lost in your own world. The stretch of your jaw combined with the already dull ache lulls you into a peaceful trance. You completely ignore the spit that’s starting to wet your chin.

You feel the figure’s other hand gently grab your jaw trapping you in place suddenly. You stared up with doe eyes as the figure fucked your face before you felt him hit the back of your throat. You gagged and your hands flew to his thighs for some stability as he repeated the action. “So fucking good. Taking my cock,” the figure grunts out and tears prick your eyes when he stops moving and you gag because he’s so far down your throat. He pulls off just enough for you to gasp and get some air before he’s back in your mouth and fucking your face again. You’re prepared for it this time as you relax your throat and gag less.

Having lulled yourself into such a peaceful you nearly let your eyes slip close. Sliding your hands down, you wrap your arms around Ghostface’s leg as you continue to fuck yourself against his foot while he fucked your mouth. You ended up tuning everything else out except him and listening to him ramble was going to get you off alone. ‘Such a gorgeous cock drunk whore’, ‘you look so pathetic humping my leg while you let me fuck your mouth it should be illegal’, and ‘you’d look so beautiful being my personal cock drunk slut’. It’s the one you made out between all the groans and moans and curses. You felt his tug at your hair as a warning and you finally opened your eyes.

“Fuck–shit–I’m gonna–” He groaned but doesn’t stop his thrusting. He does the opposite as he picks the pace up. That’s all the encouragement you needed. You find your hips onto his foot even harder and faster as you. You feel the familiar coil in your abdomen and you’re trying so hard to reach it. He snaps his hips forward and forces himself down your throat. Your eyes go wide and you gag, choking on his cock as he spills into your throat. You hit his thighs and try to focus on breathing through your nose but even still the rough face fucking before forced deep throating was enough to send you over the edge. You groan and whine as you continue to hump his foot before he pulls you off his cock and slips his foot out from under you.

Sitting there, you gasp for air as your chest heaves. You look up at Ghostface and lick your lips slowly as you debate if you wanna turn over and let him fuck you right now. He would. For sure…probably and he taste good to. But that would be giving too much. You were the original after all. Finding your footing, you stand up and slide your pants down. There’s a choked sound from Ghostface and you glance over at the figure looking away.

“Seriously?” You raise a brow and giggle, “you just fucked my face but you get all bashful about seeing me in my panties.”

“I–well. I mean. No–” This one sucked at lying. Rolling your eyes, you look away as you take your pants off before sliding your panties off. “What are…” Ghostface’s voice trails off as you stuff your soiled panties into his front jeans pocket. “Consider it an IOU,” you say as you hurriedly put your pants back on. You’re grabbing your bag before the figure gets a chance, “this was fun but I have to run. My friend is coming over for a movie night and he’ll be pissed if I’m not there,” you sigh dreamily at the end of the alleyway, “he’s so caring like that. Anyway, bye!” You say before you’re slinging your back over as you take off. You get home and quickly change into some pajama panties (with new panties) and a sweatshirt before finding yourself settled on the couch while flipping through for a movie.

Hearing keys jingle you look up, you smile at your best friend walking in. You two are so close that he has his own copy. Oscar’s in a baggy grey hoodie with some black jeans on as he takes his shoes off before making his way to the back of the couch. He smiles slightly at you and offers dinner but you decline. As he turns for the kitchen, you spy something hanging out of Oscar’s pocket. It looks like a fabric of some sorts. Watching him in the kitchen, you decide to get some water. Quietly getting off the couch you stand in the doorway. Oscar continues to cook himself dinner and you wait until he’s focused on whatever is in the pan to strike. Passing behind him, your eyes drop down and your breathing stops. Black lacy panties with red roses on them. You look up at Oscar who’s glancing at you over his shoulder. His gaze follows yours and he smirks.

“Can I cash that IOU now, darling?”

#starlight library presents;#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smut #op81 x reader #op81 smut #op81 imagine #oscar piastri x reader smut #f1 reader #f1 smut #f1 imagine #ghostface!oscar #ghostface!oscar smut #starlight library fiction #contains dark themes #mentions of murder #mentions of blood #smutty #bit toxic??#for the love of god read the warning

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