Scary Movies - Ghostface x Reader (READ THE DESC.)

05

(A/N: SORRY IVE BEEN ONLY WRITING FROM UR POV, I DONT HAVE MUCH FOR GHOSTFACE PLANNED FOR HIS POV YET)

TW/CW: language, self h@rm, blades, gore (really minor gore)

Y/N's POV

I woke up the next morning to find Ghostface gone. I don't remember what happened last night that much.. did we have sex? Or like make out, probably pushing him to leave? I don't know. For some odd reason I was in my bed. Was.. all of that a dream? I sat up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. My god did I have a pounding head ache, I couldn't even move, it hurt so much, so I layer back down. My hair was still done up.. that meant he was actually here. He was with me, doing my hair.. I hadn't been dreaming.

"Hey love, you're finally up. How are you feeling?" he asked, opening my bedroom door and walking up to me, cupping my cheek. "Y-yeah I'm fine, just feeling a bit sick ..  but I should be fine." I said. Ghostface left your room to go downstairs and then came back up with your medication. "Open wide," he chuckled quietly as he dropped in the medication and poured water in.

"I don't like the painkillers.. they taste gross," I mumbled, resting my head on Ghostface's shoulder. "I know, sweetheart, but it'll make you hurt less," he sighed, resting his head on top of mine and put his hand over mine.

"When can I see your face??" I asked, tilting my head. "I'm not sure, but not anytime soon." He chuckled. I excused myself to the washroom, so I went to the one downstairs. I had a blade of some sort hidden in all restrooms, so I could go to either. I figured the one downstairs so I could have more time and privacy, but I wouldn't have time until he got there anyways. I opened the restroom door and closed it behind me as quiet as possible.

I searched the cabinet for the blade and there it was; the beautiful, sharp, pointed blade. I grabbed it and sat on the toilet.

SH TW!!

I slowly began by lightly dragging it across my skin, then began to go deeper and deeper as I continued to cut. The red, wet fluide began to flow down my arms. It hurt so bad but felt so good. After I was done with my arms, I began to move to my legs. Starting with my thighs, I started to go lightly and progressively went deeper as more blood flowed. I quickly did the rest of my legs without the warning and cleaned up some of the wounds.

Fuck. I was wearing pyjama shorts and I didn't have any other clothes downstairs. I quickly rushed upstairs and into my room, grabbing some longer pyjama bottoms and realized: oh shit. Shit. SHIT. Ghostface wasn't up here, where could he be? " (Y/N), GET DOWNSTAIRS. NOW." He yelled. Fuck. He found them, didn't he? I could try to sneak out, but that probably wouldn't help. There was no harm in trying. I quickly opened the window and slid down the side of the wall. I ended up falling into the dumpster. A fucking dumpster. Great. At least it was completely empty, so I was clean. Ouch, I scraped my knees when sliding. It didn't help with the scars what so ever. I began to try to climb out, but guess who was standing right in front of the alleyway.

I walked over to him and he held my hand as we walked back into the house. He brought me over into the living room and sat down on the couch with me. "(Y/N), sweetheart, we need to talk.." he said. I nodded slowly, allowing him to continue. "I found this on the sink, blood on the floor and on the blade. What did you do..?" He showed me the blade with blood on it. Fuck. I looked over to the side with guilt in my eyes. Ghostface put his hand over mine. "Honey, did you hurt yourself?" He asked quietly. He wanted a response. I slightly nodded. I was ashamed. Anyone could tell even with the mask, he was worried.

I didn't want to tell him. He was going to take it took far, wasn't he? "Show me." He demanded. "Hm..?" I tilted my head. "Show me what you did to yourself." He repeated. I didn't want to show him. I didn't want to show anybody for that matter. "I-I don't want to.." I mumbled.

Ghostface's POV

"I-I don't want to.." (Y/N) mumbled. My beautiful (Y/N) hurt themselves. I don't like that. I didn't want them to hurt themselves. They sighed as they nodded. They were going to show me.

They sobbed as they lifted up their arm sleeves and leg covering parts. Why. Why would my poor baby do such a thing? "Why would you hurt yourself, my love?" I asked, tilting my head with my voice breaking. I was upset. "I- I don't know. I want to— no. I don't want to, I feel I need to. The urge won't stop until I do it and it hurts so so fucking bad yet feels so damn good each time," they cried.

I picked them up and they wrapped their legs around my waist. I carried them over to the bathroom and set them down on the toilet. I took out some rubbing alcohol and disinfected their wounds. It was a blade— it could have had tons of gross germs, because it must've been passed down generation by generation.

They kept crying and sniffling while I was trying to disinfect the cuts. I held their hand the whole way, and finally, it was better. Not completely, just disinfected and cleaned up. "Thank you," they whispered. "You're welcome, hun." I smiled under my mask. I still don't understand these joyful as fuck feelings I get around them. I love these feelings I get around (Y/N), they are truly beautiful.

_end of 05_