"do you like scary movies?"
mdni 18+
tw: afab reader, no use of y/n, roleplay, bondage, knife play, multiple orgasms, mask kink, cursing, established relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, slight cumplay…lmk if i missed anything
from lila: i feel like such a nasty little freak hahaha
the spirit of halloween store was finally open. it's your favorite store during your favorite time of year, so of course schlatt wanted to treat you on a day out.
you're scanning the aisles for cute outfits and accessories, schlatt trailing behind you, when you stumble upon the mask wall. top to bottom, all you could see were masks of characters from the most classic of horror movies.
leatherface, jason, michael meyers, freddy kreuger.
then your eyes stumbled upon the ghostface mask.
you rubbed the fabric between your fingers when you felt a presence behind you.
"whaddya got there?"
he startled you a bit, causing you to jump slightly.
"n-nothing, just looking at the masks," you replied.
he moves to stand next to you, grabbing the mask you were holding.
"oh ho! yeah, this is pretty cool!" he laughs.
your face is hot when he looks at you.
he smiles at you the way he did the night you first watched scream together. in the beginning of the film, the killer's voice over the phone grumbling "do you have a favorite scary movie?" made you squirm on the couch.
"what's wrong, hun?" schlatt had asked.
the wine in your system is what coaxed your confession out of you; "dunno...his voice is kinda...sexy."
schlatt's eyes widened at you.
"y'think so?"
you nodded. he flashed you a toothy grin that oozed with something you couldn't put your finger on.
when it got to the scene with the iconic knife wipe, you looked at your boyfriend and said, “yeah so that was hot.”
for the remainder of the movie, he teased you about wanting to fuck ghostface. though, he could admit, maybe being ghostface could be interesting if you were involved.
after the movie, schlatt had your thighs as ear muffs for while...
so, when he placed the mask over his face and cocked his head to the side, you couldn't help but press your legs together with a cheesey grin.
"please don't kill me, mr. ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel!" you giggle.
he lowers the mask and laughs along with you.
"we should get this," he says, tapping the white plastic teasingly.
"we?"
"yes. we. maybe we could..."
you aren't following.
and then you are.
"oh...sure…please, actually..”
---
later on at home, you're laying in bed wearing a black lacey bustier top and matching panties.
courtesy of schlatt.
he's looking in the mirror, black sweats hung low on his hips, holding the mask in his hand.
"you sure about this, sweetheart?" he asks.
"i'm positive," you reply.
he exhales and puts the mask on, striding over to stand at the foot of the bed. he feels himself snapping into the elusive role.
"you still havn't told me your name," he says.
you bite your lip.
"why do you want to know my name?" you grin.
he brings himself to his hands and knees crawling up your body on the bed.
"cuz i wanna know who i'm looking at."
you chuckle slightly at his words, bracing yourself for what schlatt mr. ghostface has in store for you.
he pulls you down the bed by your thighs, settling between them. he reaches into his pocket and retrieves thick red rope.
"is that for me?" you inquire.
he slowly nods.
you obediently raise your arms to either side of the bed's posts so he can tie your wrists to them. the restraints are tight enough for you to tug on, but not tight enough to hurt when you do so.
his hands begin to glide over your skin, gripping your breasts slightly through your top. the feel of his finger tips feathering over you is enough to make you groan, picking your hips off the bed.
he lowers the cups of the bustier down so your breasts are exposed to the chilled air. the pads of his fingers creep up to your nipples to rub small circles along them.
“fuuuuck,” you whimper.
each twist of his fingers sends shockwaves straight to your core.
he pinches your nipples with his thumb and forefinger, causing you to yelp.
you can’t help up but marvel at the sight of schlatt beneath the mask. the muscles tucked beneath his palor skin are tensing with each move he makes with your body. your eyes follow the thin line of dark hair that leads to the top of his waistband. you can partially see a large tent begin to pitch in his sweatpants.
he stops to stare at you (you think).
"why'd you stop?" you ask.
he keeps looking.
"baby, why'd you stop?"
he cocks his head to the side.
"ugh, why? please keep going!"
he brings his hand to his pocket again, but leaves it there.
you know what he wants now. he wants to hear you truly beg.
"please, mr. ghostface. i need to feel you all over me...don't you wanna feel how wet i am?"
that draws a growl from deep within him. from his pocket, he weilds a small knife, similar to the fishing knife from the movie.
he twists the knife in his hand so you can watch it glisten. he then brings the flat of the knife to your lips.
it’s real.
you feel the cool of the metal; the taste of it against you.
you kiss it, hoping schlatt sees the look of lust glazing your eyes through the mesh of the mask.
he flips the knife and drags it with a feather light touch down your face, trailing the soft skin of your jugular.
your wrists tug on the thick braided rope. you’re writhing for more friction…anywhere.
he brings the knife to one of your nipples, where he traces soft circles over your areola. the feeling of the thin blade sends goosebumps across your body.
“please…please i need more,” you choke out.
the chuckle that sounds is dark…malicious, even.
he finds where your panties are hugging your hips, lifting them slightly above your skin so he can slip the knife quickly to tear them off you.
after discarding your shredded underwear, he looks at you again. his gaze does not waver when he flips the knife, blade facing his stomach, and presses the butt of the handle against your swollen clit.
you gasp at the foreign feeling. its cold, hard, plastic texture is unfamiliar but anything that can give you more friction is great at the moment.
you start to move your hips against the handle of the blade. you go slowly at first, unsure of how to maneuver, but eventually you find a steady rhythm.
you’re not moaning loud enough for him, so he decides to press it more firmly on your clit.
“ungh,” you hear your own cry bounce off the walls.
his middle finger slips into your hole with ease, your wet arousal soaking the sheets under you. he brings his finger all the way in and out slowly while you continue to grind yourself on the knife handle.
your hands are tugging harder against the rope, needing desperately to ground yourself.
his finger moves tantalizingly slow while your hips speed up, your orgasm building deep within your stomach.
“feels so good….mmph….” you muster.
his middle finger plunges deep into you. he tries to coax your orgasm out of you by flexing and curling against that sweet spot only he can hit.
your body tenses when your climax crashes over, moans pouring out of your mouth while your vision is dotted with specks of white.
schlatt tosses the knife to the floor, removes his finger from your cunt and rubs your cum across your bottom lip.
you don’t notice him shimmy his sweatpants down his legs to spring his cock free. his tip is red and leaking soft precum down his length. your pry on your restraints wanting to feel the heat of him in your hands.
he positions your knees on his shoulders and holds you in that position for a moment.
you can feel him savoring your form beneath him…
cheeks rosy from the orgasm afterglow.
eyelids weighted.
throat tensing with jagged breaths.
schlatt glides his entire length inside of you. he can’t hide the groan that slips past the mask.
“so tight…so wet…” he rambles.
he doesn’t let you adjust and instead begins his deep thrusts. the angle he has you in gives easy access to your sensitive and overworked g-spot.
his grip on your thighs is so tight, the bruises will match the ones on your wrist tomorrow.
your eyes stare straight into the hollow “eyes” of the ghostface mask, jaw slacked open in silent sounds of pleasure. your previous fear has turned only into an intoxicating attraction.
“faster…please…” you beg.
always glad to oblige, his thrusts become ragged and quick. the sounds of your skin cracking against his is louder than lightning.
schlatt’s breathing becomes heavier and his hips begin to stutter. he feels his stomach tighten to signal his rapidly approaching high.
the tense feeling switches to a sudden relaxed state, euphoria filling every corner of his being. his loudest moan yet punches its way out from his chest.
his dick shoots spurts of sticky cum against your tight walls.
when he collapses on top of you, you feel the beads of sweat on both of your bodies combine.
“that was insane,” he says when he finally feels steady.
your limbs feel like they weigh 1,000 pounds. he fucked any bit of energy out of you.
he pulls the mask off and is quick to undo your binds, peppering kisses all over your spent body. he pays close attention to ensure you don’t experience anymore pain.
his hair looks skewed from being trapped for so long. the strands coil in every which way, some sticking to his forehead with sweat.
“you ok? i know i was kind of…intense,” schlatt checks.
all you can do is nod, slightly.
he lays on his side, guiding you to lay on yours so he can hold you against his body. his arms are tight on your waist, his lips pressing little kisses against your neck and shoulder.
the feeling of his heartbeat against your back calms you, lulling you to eventual sleep.
schlatt’s deep voice snaps you from your trance when he chuckles, “you sick fuck. you’ve seen one too many movies.”
you grin.
“don’t you blame the movies. movies don’t create psychos, movies make psychos more creative.”
