It was later in the evening. My emotional episode had dulled, and I laid in my bed, motionless. Tears were dried to my cheeks. I had dozed for a bit after letting my emotions take their course. Now that I was waking up from it, I felt guiltiness looming over me. After running from Ghostface earlier I hadn't seen or heard from him. He hadn't tried to enter the room either, but I suppose he could have heard the door lock and been aware there was no point in trying. However he is a killer, so he probably could find a way into a locked door with ease. I wondered what his thoughts on the situation were. Was he mad with me? Or maybe annoyed with my reaction? Maybe he didn't care at all. That was probably the most likely answer.
As my head rolled through cloudy thoughts I heard a noise from the door that sounded like something being slid. I lifted myself from the bed, and attempted to ignore my headache as I turned to look in the direction of the sound. My eyes moved down infront of the door and noticed something resting on the floor in front of it. I walked over to inspect it, and found it was a photograph of a plate of spaghetti, with handwriting on the bottom of the polaroid saying "Dinner's ready."
I smiled and a couple tears dripped down my cheeks. This time they weren't tears of sadness or regret, but happiness and thankfulness. It may seem silly but I decided to put the photo of pasta in a safe place. I walked over to my desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a round tin container. This was where I kept things special to me, things that held importance. Some of the tin's contents were simple, like acorns or feathers I found while hiking, enamel pins, or stickers I liked too much to have stuck to any one thing. It held things of higher value too though. Like my mother's wedding ring. After she divorced my father, she left it in my possession, telling me to do with it whatever I pleased, and that it held no value to her anymore. She would have pawned it likely if it weren't for the fact that my father had went the cheapest route on a wedding ring. It was eventually discovered it wasn't even really gold, but merely plated.
Another prized possession was my grandfather's compass. He used it when he went hiking and it was an antique. It was heavy and made of a sturdy metal. It was given to me just before he died. He told me he wouldn't need it because he knew where he was going next.
I gently tucked the photograph in the with my other physical memories and put the tin back away in it's hiding spot in my desk drawer. I checked myself in the mirror, adjusting my clothes a bit and my hair, then crept to the door, slowly unlocking it. I wasn't afraid of Ghostface but for whatever reason I felt the need to be very quiet now with his presence in my house. Perhaps my instincts new he was a dangerous man but my emotions ignored my better judgement. I walked down the stairs slowly. The smell of tomato sauce lingered in the air and I felt my stomach growl. I hadn't even realized I was hungry until the scent washed over me. I heard the clicking sounds of tableware, and spied around the corner. Like always, it was like Ghostface knew I was there the instant my presence edged into the room. He was sat at the table, eating the spaghetti he had prepared and dabbed his slightly exposed mouth with a paper towel.
"Hey, hungry?" He asked me. I simply nodded shyly from the door frame. "Well, come on. It's getting cold." I couldn't say no, between my hunger and it being his request. I made my way over to one of the chairs at the table and sat a little ways away from him. I picked up my fork and began to dig in. Any form of pasta was a generally simple meal to make, but it was good. The noodles were soft and the tomato sauce was rich and flavorful. It was silent between us. I wanted to make up for my actions earlier but really wasn't sure how to do it. Most of my uncomfortable interactions with people these days were with people I didn't like, and therefore didn't care to make up for, but I wanted to know we were okay. However okay a killer and potential victim could be.
I cleared my throat, "Thank you. It's good." I thought a simple praise for his meal might suffice for the time being. "You're welcome. But don't get too excited, I don't cook much else." His comment seemed funny to me, but also felt typical of him. I felt a sudden sensation of nostalgia, realizing these interactions of having dinner with someone were the first I'd had in quite a long time. I often ate alone, or skipped dinner entirely. The thought of my shriveled waistline had me wrap my arm around myself slightly. As he always does, Ghostface seemed to notice my sudden slight discomfort. The room remained silent for a moment. I felt the presence of his hand reach under the table, and rest on my knee. I felt anxious at first, worried it was another attempted advancement, but when it didn't move from it's place I relaxed. "Sorry if I scared you earlier." His apology seemed sincere and spoke to me in volumes, making me almost cry. "No, no, it's okay...I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I-I like having you here." I vocally stampered, trying my very best to convey my thoughts to him. It was hard however, I never grew up with the ability to express myself emotionally. I was determined though to try.
"I want you to stay here...with me. I want to know you better, and I don't expect you to tell me everything about yourself or trust me, but I want to be closer to you...I...I like you a lot." I regretted my last few words, unsure of what his reaction would be to the idea of his victim taking a fancy to him.
His hand remained on my knee, and he propped himself so he was leaning on the table. "I can't promise you anything." He stated, and I frowned, feeling rejected. "But I enjoy your company. And maybe in due time..." He didn't finish his sentence, as if he was avoiding saying something he assumed he would later regret, or wanted to avoid making a false promise. It was enough in the moment for me, the mere fact he was attempting to be honest with me and avoid empty promises.
It felt like my body moved without my mind as I stood from my chair. I walked over to him, and he watched me intently.
If we were going to make this work we both had to try. I had to be more open, more honest with him, more honest with myself, and prove to him I could be trustworthy. In that moment I wanted to take my own steps forward to close the gap between us. I lifted my leg over his, and rested myself in his lap. He didn't stop me or pull back. I nuzzled my face into his covered neck and held my arms in close to my chest to make myself feel comfortable. I felt his arms wrap around me, and before I knew it, we were in a tight embrace. His face rested alike to mine and I felt both of our breaths hit each other's necks. His scent and warmth enveloped me and I felt completely at peace. Safe. Comforted. I drew back slightly, and he did the same. Our faces were directly in front of one another, and his hands moved to my waist. "I want to try something...is that okay?" I asked for his permission, and he nodded, though I knew he was hesitant. I lifted my hands to the hem of his mask. My fingers slid underneath the fabric, and I began to pull it up slightly. He immediately reached to grab my wrists, holding them. I looked into the place on his mask where his eyes hid underneath. Without removing my gaze I continued to lift the fabric. His hands remained lightly wrapped around my wrists but allowed me to do so. I lifted his mask just enough to reveal his lips. My fingers moved from the cloth to the skin of his jaw. I traced the rim of his jawline, and moved to his lips. My thumb slid over the pinkish skin, and I was surprised by their softness. I felt his breath fully against my face for the first time and it's rhythm hinted at his anticipation.
Finally, I brought my lips to his. We both inhaled deeply as the bliss enveloped us. His hands pulled my waist in, and my hands clung to his jawline. The most amazing feeling I had ever felt enwrapped me, and I could have stayed that way for ever with him. We pulled away for air, and for the first time I witnessed a smile from the lips of Ghostface. A pure sensation took over me. Perhaps the one people refer to as true love? His hand met the back of my head, and he pulled me in for a second time. This kiss was slightly more intense than the last. We moved with each other like a wave, and our breathing grew heavy. His tongue escaped his lips and brushed over my own, stealing a moan from me. His teeth decided to take his tongue's place, and they pressed down on my lip. I rocked my hips slightly over his, and an exasperated breath left him. His other hand moved downward to the base of my back, and pressed me harder against him to further the building sensation. I felt a hard mass forming, pressed against my wettening area. More moans escaped my mouth and although he seemed be trying to hide his own excitement, I caught glimpses of low groans, carried out on his breath.
"(Y/n)..." he moaned my name and it brought me to a whole new level of arousal. His lips pulled back, and instead shifted to my neck, kissing, sucking, biting. My head was falling back slightly, his hand catching it in place. His fingers laced through my hair in the way I had come to love.
All was on its way to becoming a beautiful night of Lavender Kisses at Midnight when suddenly my phone rang. It shook us out of the heated moment. As my ringtone played, we looked into each other's eyes, his through the cloth of his mask still covering everything but his mouth. I wanted to chuck the damn thing across the room for interrupting the most amazing moment I had ever had in my life, but when I looked at the caller ID and saw "Mom." I knew it couldn't have been ignored. "I should answer that." I said out of breath. He simply nodded and pulled his mask back down over his mouth. I shifted so I was still on his lap but sitting facing away from him. I leaned in a bit to reach the phone on the table, and answered the call. "Hey, mom." I tried to even my breathing to sound normal. "(y/n)! I've been trying to get ahold of you all day! Where the hell have you been?" She seemed upset with me. Confused I pulled the phone back to look and see I did infact miss calls but only two, and they were 4 hours apart. Yeah, real urgent, I jokingly thought. When I repressed the phone to my ear, she continued her belittling and I rolled my eyes. Ghostface for whatever reason seemed to think it'd be a good idea to continue his teasing. His hand trailed down my curving back, and landed upon my rear, squeezing and caressing it. I had to stifle my moans as best I could to not make it inherently obvious I was in the middle of something lewd. It was hard to pay attention to my mother's bickering words while I had Ghostface's other hand sliding up my shirt and continuing the same action as the other to my chest. He raised me until I was standing, still fully leaned over the table. He grinded the bulge of his pants into, me and I had to pull the phone away from my face and cover my mouth to avoid moaning into the phone. "G-Ghost." I whispered pleadingly. "Oh, don't mind me." He whispered back tauntingly as he continued to rub into me. My wetness was now likely enveloping his clothed erection. I tried to listen back into my mother's words, though obviously I didn't give a damn about what she had to say. She asked me something along the lines of, "does that work for you?" I agreed unknowingly to what she was implying, only trying to stay in the moment of my killers hardness assaulting my outer core. "Great! I'll see you tomorrow at 4 than!" With that the call ended and it dawned on me what I had just done. The thought of seeing my mother was enough to immedialy dry up my metaphorical well, and I began to stand up straight, halting his action. "Everything alright?" He asked confused as to why I stopped him.
With a cold drifting stare, I simply said,
"I'm seeing my mother tomorrow."
YOU ARE READING
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...
