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sturnioloszn · 18 days ago

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WHAT. THE. FUCK.

THE PLOT TWIST?!?!?! LIKE WHAT?? THIS IS LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAV FICS EVER NOW, WTFFF. I WISH I COULD TATTOO THIS ENTIRE THING ONTO MY BODY!!!! 😫😫😫

the final girl - matt/chris sturniolo

warnings: heavy on the MDNI, stalking, chasing, oral, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, knife play, degradation/praise, talks of death, blood

spoilers for the scream movies if you’ve never seen them

a/n: hi! welcome to my blog, I hope you stay a while. I have a big passion for writing so i’m excited to start writing for this fandom.

wc: 6.7k

It was late.

Way too late for any woman to be walking around by herself, past dark alleyways and businesses that had long since closed for the night, however you just needed to clear your head, go for a quick little walk to get your mind off some things, and get a few extra steps in after a particularly lazy day at home binge watching your favorite show.

It wasn’t often that you walked around late at night, due to the potential dangers of it, but you also weren’t particularly afraid of it either, being comfortable with the area you lived and your level of self defense (although most of it was blind confidence, you’d never taken a self defense class in your life), so tonight felt no different than the other times that you had gone on a late night walk, except for maybe the fact that it had started to get slightly chillier out, prompting you to throw on a hoodie that came past the hem of your pajama shorts that had been on since the night before.

Typically you would have airpods in while you walked, but tonight you felt more like enjoying the sounds of night life chattering in the distance as the background noise for your walk, and that’s exactly what you heard as you kept a steady pace through the slightly busier side of town. Bars, restaurants, liquor stores, all littered up and down the streets, some with a few customers, and some completely blacked out. The only part that sent a small shiver down your spine every time you walked past one, was the dark, dimly lit or completely pitch black alleyways that seemingly dragged on for miles.

It wasn’t necessarily a fear, but the thought of being dragged into an alleyway and stabbed or brutally beaten had always been a nagging thought at the back of your mind on these walks. Maybe you had died in an alleyway in a past life. Regardless, you push through the small voice in your head that makes you step a little quicker every time you pass by.

It’s close to 30 minutes into your walk, zoned in as ever, when you feel a buzz in your back pocket, and the feeling rips you out of the deep thought you were having, using your hands to push up your hoodie to reach the butt pocket in your shorts, grabbing your phone and seeing an unknown caller on the screen. You furrow your brow and send it to voicemail, telling yourself if it was important, they’d leave a message, your thought process for any unknown caller.

However, this seemed a little different than a typical unknown number calling, as instead of seeing the voicemail start to pour in, you just see the call trying to come through another time, and again, you hit the red button on your screen, declining the call.

“Can’t be that important,” you mutter under your breath, about to put your phone back into your pocket, when it starts to buzz for a third time, making your heart start to pick up pace slightly. Who would be trying to reach you at such an ungodly hour? Why were they trying so desperately to reach you?

Your finger hovered over the decline button again, but something in you told you to accept the call. What if it was an emergency? What if a family member was in the hospital and they were trying to reach you? What if a friend was in jail and needed you to bail them out? Too many thoughts bounced around inside your head, but eventually you chalked it up to your anxiety getting the best of you, and you pressed down, declining the call again.

You stared down at your phone, stopping completely in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, waiting for another phone call to ring through your phone, but after waiting for a solid minute with no attempts at a call, you assume the caller is done bothering, and put your phone back in your pocket, quickening your pace in an attempt to get home a little quicker than usual.

It’s no more than two minutes later that your phone starts to buzz in your pocket again, and this time, it makes you completely freeze in your tracks. Again? you think to yourself, slowly reaching back and grabbing your phone once more, looking at the same number on the screen trying to reach you. Surely it has to be important if somebody is trying this hard, so with a bit of reluctance and a faster heartbeat than you’d like to admit, you swipe your phone across the screen and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello?” You speak, voice quieter than normal.

“Hi,” the voice on the other end drawls out in a slightly robotic, yet still human voice.

“Who am I speaking with?” You retort.

“I could ask the same question,” the voice replies.

This is weird, you think to yourself.

“You called me, so who is this?” Your voice raises slightly as you get annoyed with the situation. First this person has the nerve to call in the middle of the night, and now they won’t even disclose who they are.

“Woah, you’re feisty. I like that. You got a boyfriend?”

You pause. “Do I- what?!” The exasperation is clear in your voice, a slight panic filling your chest.

“You heard me. You got a boyfriend?” He repeats, a smirk evident in the way he spoke.

You remain silent on the line for a moment, looking around to see if anybody was nearby to overhear this conversation, but there was nobody in your line of sight no matter which direction you looked. “Yes,” fell from your lips before you could stop yourself. “I have a boyfriend.”

The man, or person rather, you weren’t too sure, made a pouting sound on the other end of the call, clearly dejected by your answer. “What a shame,” he starts. “I was hoping I could have you all to myself.”

The words that left his mouth is what really set off your panic, your heart racing in your chest as you started to move again, wanting more than ever to just get home and crawl into bed where you knew you were safe, because right now you felt anything but safe, too exposed in the nighttime air.

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number, have a good night,” you tell them, pulling your phone away from your ear to finally hang up and rid yourself of this interaction, but just as you’re about to end the call, you hear shouting coming from it, the person still yelling at you despite your efforts to end the call. Slowly, you pull it back to your ear, hoping he doesn’t know you’re still listening, but somehow, he knows, chuckling into the speaker.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he taunts. “You wanna play a game?”

Fuck, you think. There’s no way this was who you thought it was, right? Those were just movies, and killers like that don’t exist in the real world. Besides, who would be dumb enough to be a copycat killer with such a popular character? It would be stupid to think that you could possibly get away with trying to be Ghos-

“Hello?! Did you not hear me, slut? I said… do you want to play a game?” The voice bellows, getting more aggressive now.

“W-what kind of game?” You stutter out, your eyes frantically looking for a soul to share this terrifying moment with. But still, there was nobody around, nobody to be a witness. The sinking feeling that you might die, completely alone in the middle of the night, and probably in a stupid fucking alleyway floods your body, understanding how dire this situation is about to get.

“Do you like scary movies?”

The question was way too fitting for the breezy October air, but nowhere near cool enough to cause the goosebumps that arose on your skin.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Good. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks, curiosity evident in his tone.

You decide to push your luck, and see how far this can go, see who’s really behind the voice on the other end. “You ever heard of the Stab movies?” You ask.

He laughs. He knows you know now. But he doesn’t seem to mind that his cover is blown. “Wow, that’s a creative answer. I’ve heard of them,” he says.

You know that the Stab movies were just fictional, based on the stories of those in the Scream movies, but in reality, Scream was your favorite scary movie. It wasn’t too gory or scary, just the perfect amount of thriller to keep you on the edge of your seat, and truthfully, you always kind of had a thing for Ghostface, which is exactly why you’re still here on the phone, entertaining whoever is on the other end.

“Well, that’s my favorite movie. Are we done playing games now?” You’re more than ready to be back home now, but a part of you isn’t ready for this call to be over just yet. You wanna know if he’s gonna want to do trivia, just like the real Ghostface.

“The game hasn’t even started,” he begins. “Play with me, will you?” His voice is soft, almost begging. You would never admit it out loud, but it made you swallow a little harder than usual, and the feeling of your quickening heartbeat fell between your legs. Curse this Ghostface kink.

“O-okay,” you agree. “Let’s play.”

“Great. How about a warm up question? Who’s the killer in the original Scream movie?” He shoots out the first question like he’s reading it off of a script.

“Easy! It’s Billy Loomis, and don’t think I’ll fall for your trick question, Stu Macher is the other killer,” you proudly say, perhaps a little too loudly, but there was still nobody around to hear you boasting about your favorite movie killers.

He seems almost proud when he answers, like you’ve impressed him more than he’d like to admit. “Good job. Now we’ll play for real.”

“What?!” You exclaim. “I got that one right, that counts.”

“No, it was a warm up.” He’s determined to not count this question as a legitimate turn. “If you get this one right, you get to walk away.”

You’re overly confident in your knowledge of the Scream movies, so even though you’re not really sure what is going on at the moment, you’re almost positive you’ll get this question right and win whatever this game was, ending the conversation and letting you finally go home in peace. “And if I lose?” You dare to ask.

His reply is quick though. “If you lose, I get to wear your insides as a fucking necklace.”

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears at the words, worry finally filling your head as you realize this was a lot more serious than you had initially thought. There was no way this guy was serious, but standing alone in the middle of the street at almost 2am, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was completely serious, and if a trivia question was the way your life would end.

“I don’t think I want to play this game anymore,” tears filled your eyes as you spoke, voice raising in pitch as your throat started to get tight. “Please just let me go home.”

He doesn’t respond to this with words, only a small chuckle before he speaks again. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“My name?” You choke out. “Why do you want to know?”

He pauses.

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

It’s in this moment that you look to your right, realizing you’re stopped at the end of an alleyway, right at the driveway, and staring down the dark hall of the alley, you see a dark figure standing in the middle of it, phone held up to their ear, Ghostface mask the only thing visible in the one working light that shines down on their face.

“Holy fuck,” you panic, immediately turning the other way and running down the alley across the street, opposite the one the figure stood in. “Help!” You cry out, phone call long forgotten as you pump your arms to try and run quicker. It seems to be to no avail as you hear loud footsteps quickly approaching behind you, and you start to feel all hope draining from your body as the killer got closer.

It’s not long before you’re getting slammed up a brick wall, knocking the breath out of you as you come face to face with your favorite movie killer, however this wasn’t a movie, this was real life, and you were truly and utterly fucked.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg once you get your breath back, trying to shove them away, but your efforts failed. One arm was held across your chest, and the other was holding a large blade up to your throat. “I promise, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt me.”

He laughs in your face, and the classic Ghostface voice is still there despite the phone call being over. The voice changer must be built into the fucking mask, and you couldn’t help but think how hot this would’ve been in any other situation. Except… part of you was still slightly turned on, even though your life was in jeopardy. “I’m going to do a lot more than hurt you,” he threatens. “Now tell me. How does Amber die in Scream 5?”

God, he’s still quizzing you? Even with a knife to your throat? The good thing is, you’ve seen these movies so many times, you know you can pull this without even thinking.

“She… she lights herself on fire, on a stove.” You choke out, looking up into the eyes of the mask. You almost let a smirk take over your face, but then you feel the blade press harder, and it makes your eyes widen.

“Wrong,” he taunts, leaning his face closer to yours. “She survives the fire and gets shot in the head.”

No, you think. No, there’s no way I’m wrong. Until you realize, he’s right. You have to shoot them in the head, or they come back. Fuck.

“Wait! Ask me another question, I can get it right I swear!” You’re squirming against his grip now, tears evidently streaming down your face. You know what happens in this part of the movie. The brutal stabbing, the guts hanging out, the killer getting away with it. It was over, and you were no doubt a dead man walking.

“Too late! You’re wrong!” He yells, moving his arm that lay across your chest and putting his hand on your shoulder, applying pressure to push you towards the ground, and the shove had forced you to fall on your knees, no doubt ripping them up with the uneven ground you now rested on. Your eyes looked up towards the masked figure, eyebrows contorted in confusion. This was not how the movies went at all, but a part of you was getting slightly warmer at the thought of what was about to happen, thighs clenching together around nothing.

“I-I’m sorry, I panicked and said the wrong answer,” you say in a quiet voice, still staring up at him through your lashes. From the position you were now in, you assumed you and the killer were on the same page, and you reached out to rest your hands on his thighs, separated by the cloak he wore and the jeans that lay atop his skin. “Please let me make it up to you.”

The tone shifts. No longer were you scared for your life, but you were excited for what was about to ensue. Sure, maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done, and maybe it’ll be the last thing you ever do, but you wanted to go out with a bang, and this was definitely a bang.

As he fails to respond, you take that as your approval and start to move his cloak up, pulling it over your head and completely covering yourself with it so you, too, were underneath it, almost completely hidden from view apart from your bare knees touching the ground. The only thing separating you now was the normal clothes that lay underneath, and you reach your hands up to the button of his jeans, skillfully yet slowly popping it open, pulling the zipper down after it. Keeping the pants completely pulled up, just slightly undone, you move your hand downwards and palm over the hardness under the hard fabric, realizing that he was having just as much fun as you were. Besides, who could turn down a free blowjob from a pretty girl in a dark alleyway?

Deciding you were ready to take this on, you push your hands in the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down to expose the hard member that impatiently awaited, hearing the masked killer suck in a hissed breath, still contorted by the voice changer. God, this was a fucking dream come true and you wanted to relish in every second of it that you could.

He was bigger than you expected, but just like your movie trivia confidence, you were confident you could take him, in more ways than one, and you lean forward to gently start taking the tip into your mouth, creating a suction around it that made him have to lean a hand on the alley wall to keep his balance and not fall to his knees alongside you. Once you’re comfortable with the feeling, you reach a hand up to cover what your mouth can’t reach and start pumping in time with your head movements, tongue flattening out onto the bottom of his dick, twisting your hand slightly as you moan when the tip hits the back of your throat, causing him to let out a choked moan.

“You should be fucking bleeding out in a dumpster right now, you stupid bitch,” he mumbles, but it’s in vain. You’ve got him right where you need him, and he would never admit it, but he’s living for it. The euphoria filling his veins as he focuses on the way your tongue moves on him is taking over his senses, eyes closed and head thrown back.

All you do is moan in response as you continue your pace, feeling your own arousal creeping up inside your pajama shorts, wishing you could reach down and relieve some of the pressure, but you decide to not push your luck too much. You don’t know what he would let you get away with and what he wouldn’t.

You feel him start to lose control slightly, using his hand braced on the wall as leverage as he starts to move his hips forward, fucking your mouth lightly at first, but quickly picking up pace as he realizes that you can take a lot more than you’re letting on, not stopping even when your hands fly up to his hips and you gag around his cock abusing your throat, using it as a fuck toy. However, your hands don’t push him away, just grasp on so you have something to ground yourself in the moment.

Suddenly, the rough pace stops, and he pulls the cloak from over you and looks down and your fucked out face, day old mascara running down your cheeks, drool dripping down your chin as your mouth hangs open while you try to catch your breath. It’s a beautiful sight to him, and he can’t get enough. He pushes your head against the brick wall, a big more aggressive than needed, but not hard enough to hurt you, and uses his other hand to slap his cock against your cheek lightly before letting out a breathless laugh.

“Stand up, slut. Wanna see how wet you are for me,” he demands, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling you up, not giving you time to focus on the ache in your knees from the position you were in. But you eagerly got up anyway, returning to your face to face positioning. Swallowing thickly, you finally catch your breath as you stare back into the eyes of the mask, but it’s dark in this alley that you can’t see the eyes behind it.

“I’m so wet, please touch me. It hurts. I need you to touch me,” you beg, his hand still tangled in your hair while the other one is still wrapped around the handle of a blade. You knew the begging was risky, not knowing what his plans were with you, but you decided to try it anyway, not giving yourself much time to talk yourself out of it.

He doesn’t reply just yet, only takes his wielded weapon and slowly moves it under your hoodie, sliding the blade down your stomach, the cold, pointed tip pressed hard enough to cause goosebumps to prickle your skin, but not enough to break skin. Not yet.

He drags it into the waistband of your shorts and panties, knife touching your soaked pussy momentarily before he shoves it down and slices a hole right through both layers of your clothes, creating a gash large enough for whatever he had planned for you. The autumn air rushed over your wetness, causing you to try and clench your legs shut, but you quickly relaxed your knees when you realized the knife was still hanging between your thighs, not wanting to risk cutting yourself. It was a vulnerable position, one that should be terrifying, but it just made you more desperate to be touched.

Slowly he pulled the knife from your shorts, reaching back to slide it in the waistband of his jeans so both of his hands were free to touch you, and once his right hand was rid of the blade, he brought it to the hole in your shorts and ran a finger through the smooth slit of your pussy, gliding easily from how wet you already were. It was a fucked situation, but it had you worked up beyond belief. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this wet prior to even being touched before.

“All of this for me?” He breaks the silence for a first time in the while, causing a whimper to leave your mouth as he kept playing with you lightly, not dipping his fingers where you needed them the most right now, barely grazing over the folds covering your clit. The teasing was making you crazy, but you were too scared to tell him what to do, or even to reach out and touch him while you were face to face. You felt completely at his mercy; and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Tell me, pretty girl. How bad do you want me right now?” He asks, leaning his masked face in closer to yours. You swore you almost hear his real voice underneath the voice changer, but brush it aside and focus on the Ghostface voice you know and love, finally opening your mouth to speak, heavy breathing accompanying your words.

“I don’t want you, I need you so bad, please put your fingers inside me, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me, please,” you beg, voice cracking as you realize tears are streaming down your face, but you don’t know if you’re crying because you’re terrified or because you’re just so fucking desperate.

He chuckles as he slides two fingers in between your folds, dragging your wetness to your clit for a moment and rubbing there, finally relieving some of the pressure. Your head falls back against the rough brick wall of the alleyway as you let out a loud moan, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit nearly making your knees give out from that alone. “You sound so good making those noises for me, slut. I can’t wait to have you screaming for me.”

He finally pushes his two fingers back and dips them inside of you with no resistance, your body accepting them more than willingly, and you both let out a moan at the feeling, your back arching away from the wall as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cry out, unable to stop yourself from reaching out and grabbing his left bicep, needing something to latch on to in the moment. Your left leg comes up and finds purchase on a pipe that ran along the wall, giving him more access to your dripping core. “Your fingers feel so good,” you’re breathless as you speak. “Please don’t stop.”

His fingers start a quick pace inside of you, pumping in and out while also curling them inside, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he pleasured you. He was enjoying this almost as much as you were. “God, you’re so loud. You sound so fucking hot.” He praises you, clearly turned on by the way you’re crying out for him.

He halts for a moment with his fingers deep inside of you, making you pull your head up from the wall and look down at his fingers before you look up at him, confusion clear on your face. “Why’d you st- oh!” You moan out and throw your head back again, hand gripping harder on his bicep as he starts to move his hand back and forth now, palm pressed firmly on your clit as he fingers you rapidly, causing your first orgasm of the night to rip out of you with a scream, body shaking and barely able to stand up straight. Although this orgasm was different. It was harder, more intense, and you realize you’re still cumming as he keeps pumping his fingers inside of you, hot liquid pouring out of your already dripping pussy and draining down your legs, creating a puddle underneath you where you stand.

He pulls his fingers out of you when he’s had enough and drags them over your swollen clit, making your body jerk when he starts rubbing it quickly, overstimulating you and causing a tiny bit more liquid to pour out. You cry and use your left hand to push his away from you, not being able to take anymore.

But he doesn’t care if you had time to collect yourself or not, and he’s pulling his cloak up to unveil his still hard cock, desperately waiting to fuck you senseless until you couldn’t even stand up straight anymore. “I’m not done with you,” he reveals. “You think I’m just going to let you cum one time and walk away? No. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t fuck anybody else without thinking about me and wishing I was there to fucking ruin you all over again.”

You breathed heavily as you looked at him, or rather the mask that hid the man that was absolutely draining you of any energy you had left for the night, a fucked out expression already adorning your face. “I was hoping you weren’t done,” you breathed out, letting a smirk fall on your features briefly.

“Don’t get fucking mouthy,” he growls, grabbing your leg that was perched up on the wall and slinging it around his waist, using his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance, teasing briefly before shoving inside of you, bottoming out on the first thrust. You screeched at the feeling, using both hands now on each bicep to grip onto him for some sort of leverage, needing to ground yourself somewhere.

“Oh my fucking god!” You cry out, tears filling your eyes, a mixture of the pleasure and the stretch. You weren’t always sex crier, but sometimes when it felt particularly overwhelming, you couldn’t help a few tears from falling.

He doesn’t wait long before he starts thrusting inside of you, low grunts leaving his lips and traveling through the mask, turning you on even more. “God, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly. “I can’t believe you’re so turned on by a fucking serial killer. You’re a freak, you know that? I should kill you and leave your body here just like this so everyone knows you died a stupid fucking slut.”

Your jaw was slung open, eyes half lidded as you stared at the mask in front of you, barely able to comprehend the words spilling from his mouth, but the words that stuck in your brain made you even hornier. He was right, you were a freak. This should be anything but sexy, but to you it was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. “You could kill me…” you start, smiling lightly as you speak. “And my last words would be thank you.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin was the only thing to be heard aside from the heavy breathing and moans coming from both of you.

He grunts in response, bringing his left hand that isn’t holding your leg down to your clit, rubbing quickly in time with his thrusts, making you whimper loudly, throwing your head back against the harsh brick wall. “Fuck!” You nearly scream.

The feeling of both was far too much, your second orgasm slamming into you like a truck, your hands reaching down to his hips to push him out of you, your head shooting up to look down at where you gushing again, a second time for the night. Your thighs shook as you struggled to hold yourself up, moans still leaving your lips as your orgasm faded, turning into soft whimpers. “I-I can’t, I’m done.” Your voice is shaky, eyes barely able to stay open as you bring them up to look into the eyes of the mask.

He laughs. Not a chuckle, he full on laughs, throwing his head back in time with the heavenly sound leaving his mouth. “You’re done?” He questions, looking back towards you. You had black tear tracks running down your bright red cheeks, your lips were puffy from biting on them, and he couldn’t tell if it was drool or precum all over your chin; probably both. “I don’t remember you being in charge.”

Keeping your leg wrapped around his waist, he uses his left hand to reach into his back pocket, the one across from the blade still resting comfortably, and dips into it, coming back out with a piece of fabric. You weren’t sure what it was, but when he unfolds it and holds it up to you, you realize it’s a thin, long piece of fabric.

A blindfold.

“Be a good girl for me and close your eyes,” he whispers in your ear, and all you could do was obey. Your eyes fluttered shut, realizing that your trust was fully in this man. He really could do anything he wanted to you now, and you wouldn’t be able to see it coming.

His hands come up and tie the blindfold behind your head, making sure it’s secure enough that you can’t see through the bottom, but not tight enough to hurt, not that not hurting you was particularly on the top of his priority list. “You’re so good for me,” he praises, running his thumb over your cheek, gently flitting over your bottom lip before leaving your face completely. “Can you hold this for me?”

Your hand reaches out instinctively, blinding feeling for whatever he spoke of. Something touched your hand, and you grasped your fingers around it, unable to figure out what it was, until you felt him slowly moving downwards, your leg now resting on his shoulder as he placed his hands on your thighs, squeezing them roughly. His lips dragged over the tops of your thighs, pressing lightly in soft kisses every couple of seconds, getting closer to your core where you needed his mouth the most.

Your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around his mask tangled in his hair, threading through it gently, chest heaving in anticipation. Your hips pressed forward and your back fully leaned against the wall behind you when you felt his lips finally press against your wet folds, kissing softly there before he dragged his tongue from your hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around the swollen nub and sucking roughly, hands pushing your legs farther apart for him.

Your senses were elevated with the lack of vision, tingles erupting over your whole body as he ate you out like his life depended on it. You moaned out, hands gripping his hair harder now. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “That feels so good, baby, please don’t stop.”

He only hums against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine. He eats you out ruthlessly, wet noises filling your ears alongside the pounding from your racing heart. His tongue was working magic on your clit, expertly coaxing you to a third orgasm. You were so close, gently grinding your hips into his mouth, feeling the stubble around his chin creating friction between the two of you. Your thighs were aching from how hard they had been shaking, but nothing mattered except the feeling of where the two of you were connected.

“Keep going, please. I’m so close. You’re gonna make me cum again, baby.” Your voice was hoarse as you spoke.

Wanting nothing more than to rip your orgasm from you, he reached up and slid two fingers back into you while his mouth sucked on your clit, making you cry out. “Shit!” You screech, voice getting pinched as you came for a third time, knees buckling beneath you. He grabbed your hip with his free hand and held you up, while his other hand continued pumping inside you, tongue still working its magic. He swallowed the juices that flowed from your pussy, moaning at the taste.

“You taste so good,” he mutters against your skin, pulling his fingers out and dragging his lips along your thigh, nipping slightly at the goosebump covered skin. “I could eat you for hours.”

You whimper at the desperate sound of his voice, wanting nothing more than to look down and see the face looking back at you, but he stands back up to his feet, and you expect him to grab the mask from your hands and hide his face once again, but once he’s up to his feet and standing straight up, he leans forward and presses his lips to your neck, making your breath catch in your throat. He litters small kisses there, before sinking his teeth into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, sucking a deep red mark into the skin.

You reach up and cup his own neck, tilting your head to give him further access and holding him close to you, breathing heavily as he marked his territory. “Are you done with me yet?” You whisper, afraid to speak too loud and break the moment.

“No,” he whispers back, voice free of any effects, the raw tone of his voice ringing in your ears. “Not yet.”

His demeanor changes and he grabs a fistful of your hair, pressing his lips firmly to yours in an aggressive kiss, tongue sliding past your teeth and meeting your own. But it’s short lived, and he pulls away, snatching the mask from your hand.

Moments later, the blindfold is ripped from your face and you have to blink a few times to adjust your eyes to your surroundings again. You look down and see you’re standing in a puddle of your own release, legs and feet soaked in a mixture of spit and arousal, your shorts damn near torn to shreds. You were a complete mess, and you couldn’t imagine what there was left to ruin.

He reaches back into his pocket, pulling out the blade once more and holding it up to the side of your throat. “On your knees,” he demands, using his other hand to push your shoulders down, keeping the blade firmly against your neck as you fell to your knees again.

The feeling of the blade on your neck made your heart pick up pace, knowing that he could kill you at any moment with just a flick of his wrist, but the thought just made you reel even more. He picks his hand up off of your shoulder and grabs his own cock, rubbing it over your lips lightly, breathing out at the feeling of some sort of relief after pleasuring you for so long. Your eyes stare up at him innocently, sticking your tongue out and flattening it against the bottom of his dick, allowing it to slide into your mouth with ease.

You close your lips around him and moan at the taste of you and him hitting your senses, leaning your head in as far as you can take him, but it’s not enough for him, and he pushes your head back against the wall and starts fucking your throat, moaning loudly as he did so.

He was already so close to cumming, getting so worked up at the feeling of you falling apart on his tongue, that it wasn’t going to take him much to tip over the edge himself. His blade pushed harder into your neck as he started to lose control, and you started whimpering at the feeling, not knowing how far he was going to take it, or if he even noticed he was doing it. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, hips starting to stutter as he fucked your mouth.

Moments later, he pulls his dick out of your mouth and you reach up to grab it, pumping quickly with your tongue hanging out of your mouth, graciously accepting the load that shot out of him and all over your face, even into your hair. You stroked him through his orgasm and swallowed what landed on your tongue, staring up at him as he stared down at you, small moans and almost whimpers passing through his lips.

“Stop,” he chokes out, pushing your hand away from his sensitive tip. You just laugh in response as you drop your hand to your side, slowly standing back to your feet. “Now you know how I feel,” you tell him.

You both take a moment to collect yourself and catch your breath, the heaving in your chests gradually getting calmer.

“Shit,” he mumbles, reaching up and swiping his thumb over your neck, smearing a liquid you didn’t know was there. “I cut you.”

You look down at his thumb, red substance covering it. It should’ve been a little scary, the thought of the knife actually cutting into you and you didn’t even know, but you just grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth, sucking the blood off with a quiet pop.

“I think I’ll live,” you smile at him, reaching up to rip the mask off of his face, revealing your boyfriend’s messy brown hair and bright blue eyes staring back at you. He smiles and leans in to place a kiss on your nose, pulling back quickly.

“You ready to go home? I’m exhausted,” he laughs.

You giggle a bit and take a look at the mess that the both of you are. “You’re exhausted? I don’t think I can walk home, my legs don’t work anymore.” You tell him.

He just chuckles as he buttons his pants, the knife safely tucked away into his back pocket once more. “Good thing I brought the car then. Couldn’t risk anyone seeing you walking home like this. C’mon, it’s at the end of the alley. I’ll carry you.” He leans down and scoops you up, hands covering the hole in your shorts as he walks you to the car.

“Hey,” you speak up as he sets you in the passenger seat of your shared car.

“Hm?” He replies tiredly, looking down at you from where he stood.

“Can we maybe… keep the mask? Do this again some time?” You ask him bashfully, twiddling your fingers as he spoke.

Your boyfriend laughs and leans down to kiss your cheek, then brings his lips close to your ear.

“Of course. After all, the final girl always makes the sequel.”

a/n: ……

who did you imagine?👀

dare you to read it again and imagine the other one 😇

taglist

@nathangirl3

@vamp1re-bite

#christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #need that so bad

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