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How was your Halloween

I went to some kind of costume party lol, I dressed up in the typical purge costume. And what did you do?:o

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Oh, guys. Thanks to everyone who has followed me, talked to me, commented and reacted. I appreciate even the smallest interaction. October was tiring, I slept like 4 hours a day, but that's it. So now I'll start answering requestssss.

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Kinktober Day 30: Knife play (Jeff The Killer x Reader)

Warnings: Toxic relationships

He liked blood. He believed that the crimson color gave him that image that he wanted to provoke in others. His clothes were covered in it, blood from innocent victims and from those not so innocent people who couldn't win against him. You, however, gave another meaning to the vulnerability that another's blood brings on his hands. In your case, it was surrender. He wanted to merge with you, to be one. Licking your blood was intimate for him, the right way to seal the connection that the two of you had.

Usually, you always leaned against a tree and looked at him with your smile. With your mocking smile. You always told him something that made him angry. It was simply a preamble. The formality for him to do what he wanted to do.

Jeff's knife was lethal. He always showed it to you in the same way, implying that he was hesitating whether to kill you or not. However, you never acted like a victim seriously. He wanted you to do it so he felt like he was in control.

You pulled the strings though.

His cuts were different. Suddenly shallow or somewhat deep. What was a constant, though, was his tongue. His tongue licking the blood that was running down your body. He was obsessed. Absolutely insane. Drinking from you left him in the perfect position between sadism and devotion. Like he always felt, but now focused on someone else.

His knife slid without cutting over your skin while his tongue licked the drops of blood that came out of your wound.

You didn't know when he was going to press and when he was going to just slide.

But that thrill was what motivated you to continue.

The constant danger and the safety intervals. You lived for that thrill. You lived to feel his blood jumping down your face when he was on top of you and it felt particularly masochistic.

The knife pressed against your neck, having the constant dispute over whether to press or not. The constant doubt over whether to continue allowing himself that level of obsession with you. But there you were with your savagery, giving yourself over to all the things he did to you.

Your skin bore the constant marks that his knife left on you. You were definitely ruined for other men and even more so when they saw that with his knife he had carved his name on your stomach. No one would dare to play with such a fucked up person who on top of that belonged to Jeff the Killer.

He admired your body full of marks, of his marks. He licked his lips remembering the taste of your blood. You licked your lips remembering the taste of his. You got excited seeing how your initial was written on your arm, made with his knife in a particularly bad fight to make you understand that he wasn't with anyone else but you.

Never had a fight ended so fucking fast. It was the best way.

Whenever they saw that knife, without exception, they imagined all their fantasies fulfilled. And even more so when he was feeling masochistic.

You had never gotten excited so quickly.

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Kinktober Day 29: Humiliation (Android 17 x Reader)

He pulled your hair hard. It was amazing how his attitudes could be so opposite: he was naughty and affectionate most of the time, but there were buttons you could push that made him turn bad. Really bad. When he pulled your hair, there was no trace of kindness in his eyes. Just annoyance. The typical meanness he showed to certain people.

And you had forgotten how dangerous it could be to tease him.

Your knees hurt, but you tried to bear it, like he would. The skin of your legs in contact with the floor, your eyes looking up, in his direction. Your hands resting on your thighs. Waiting for himskin of your legs in contact with the floor, your eyes looking up, in his direction.  without moving a muscle.

Maybe he was in a cruel mood. Maybe the role he had taken was that of your punisher rather than your boyfriend.

It was easy for him to take on all kinds of roles. The one who was never good enough to keep up with him was you. But he appreciated all your effort. Silently, of course, because openly he could be very bad.

“Nice try, huh?” He laughed jolly in contrast to his annoyed tone. “You had to tease me, didn’t you?” He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I want you to behave, that’s all.”

You had forgotten how strong he was with his gentle touch. You shuddered as his gloved hand guided your movements to his will. One of his hands was still on your head; the other roughly grabbed your arm and, in one movement, slammed you against the wall, feeling a strong blow to your chest from the impact.

He did all this without any difficulty.

You brought your thighs together, trying to mitigate your need. With both hands on your hips, he bent you against a table. You rested his cheek on the cold wood, feeling the icy wind hitting your ass. You felt his fingers rub your intimacy, making your arousal grow more as you felt his saliva and the texture of the gloves.

“Nothing else to say?” With his free hand, he pulled your hair once more. “You know what to do.” He pressed his chest against your back, and his lips met your ear. “Don’t bother me when I’m busy.”

He dropped your face onto the table. You felt a hard smack.

But you didn’t care. You could take everything he gave you.

You felt his member entering your entrance, his hands gripping your ass. Your body rubbed against the material of the table from the force he was providing. He could do more though. Much more.

“Please, harder,” you said haltingly, clenching your fists in frustration. He stopped.

His mouth was once again close to your ear.

“You don’t deserve this.” He whispered in a truly cruel tone. “I’m giving it to you because I like you better in this state.”

He laughed once more.

His skin collided with yours, causing a lewd noise in the air that perfectly matches your desperate moans. The best thing about him was his dominance—how he grabbed you so easily and played with you. He always played with you. He pushed you to the limits. His cock fucked you so good, you couldn’t even think straight. Just him, strictly him.

His thrusts sped up, and out of his excitement, he pulled your hair much harder than the first time. Much meaner.

“Yeah, I definitely like you better like this.”

Yes, their attitudes were so opposite. So unpredictable. So cunning.

“No more nonsense, okay?” He asked with no real desire for you to answer. “One more time and everyone will know how good you are at taking my cock.”

You couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Although he probably was.

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Kinktober Day 28: Thigh riding (Griffith x Reader)

It's October 28th, yes…

Warnings: fem!reader

Griffith watched in wonder as you rubbed against his leg. It gave him a pleasurable and powerful feeling that, even though he didn't do much, you were acting so excited. He watched the sensual movements of your body, the sweat that threatened to accumulate from the effort you made in trying to reach your orgasm. The wind tried to mitigate it, waving freely through your body. Your eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. Your thighs clenched, trying hard to give him a good show.

He couldn't control his eyes when he saw you naked; he couldn't deny his admiration. His interest. He couldn't deny you. He couldn't deny your pleasure either. He wanted so much to fulfill everything you had in mind, regardless of how bad it might sound. Regardless of everything.

Your hands went to his shoulders; you squeezed them tightly.

He was mesmerized by you. His expression concealed it. Despite not openly showing his trance in you, you knew it. You both knew it. Your hands went to your breasts, grabbing them lasciviously, making him feel his erection forming beneath you just by looking at them. You were in a state of immense pleasure. He didn't want it to end. He would like to be the master of your pleasure many more times. His hands went to your hips, and he made a slight effort to guide your movements. At no time did he take his gaze off you. Never. He needed to save it. He needed to always remember it. Maybe, for the first time, sex was something primarily directed at you and not at him, not at his selfish ends that ended with his release and the sudden relaxation of a stressed man.

It was for you.

That's why he wanted to witness your release, your reactions, and your gestures. He needed to pay attention. You are the most faithful of all. Of all the people who have followed him, you have believed in him and have never let him down.

It's the least he could do for you.

Your intimacy rubbed in a perfect way on his clothed leg, the clash between both textures giving you a sensation on your spine. One that you always longed to repeat. Your skin always got goosebumps when his hands made contact with the bare skin of your hip, your heart always beat hard when his beautiful face was directed only at you, and your body always trembled with emotion when a word of flattery was directed at you. If you didn't know the truth, maybe, just maybe, you could keep him forever.

And maybe your release was the proof of that. When your nipples stood up, your body leaned back, and your moans were constant and difficult to hide, he was attentive. Completely attentive. He wanted to remember it forever. Your expression changed, your eyes closed with pressure, and your mouth opened minimally to give your last shaky gasp, followed by an unforgettable sensation that ran through your entire body, leaving your skin goosebumps and your hands shaking. You hugged him. Your naked body joined perfectly with his clothed body. His hands circled your body, and he placed small kisses on the damp skin of your neck.

Griffith regretted you so much that he couldn't keep you forever. For the first time, a different idea crossed his mind, even if it was for a short period of time. Even if it was just a second. Even though there wouldn't be any significant change in his behavior after that. That was irrefutable proof and enough for him to discover that what he felt for you could have perfectly compared, in other conditions, to his dream.

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No android 17 kinktober post........

Don't worry. I usually upload them late (1 or 2 days late)

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Kinktober Day 27: Jealousy sex (Sanzu x Reader)

Warnings: Toxic relationships, insults, death threats, mention of drugs

Sanzu slammed you against the wall. He was terribly upset. For the first time, you were afraid of the gun he kept in his pants. In a fit of rage, he could make many mistakes that he would later regret. However, now he wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about you and your audacity.

“Who do you think you are, bitch?” Sanzu grabbed your arms very tightly and slammed you against the wall several times. “Do you think you can fool me?” He yelled right in your face. “No one can do it! Don't you know that?”

“Listen…” You tried to say, raising your voice over his screams. “I didn't do anything; I just wanted to have your attention.”

He suddenly stopped. He looked you straight in the eyes. A sadistic smile suddenly showed. He took the gun out of his pants and left it on the table. You sighed relaxedly. He wouldn't do anything against you.

Suddenly, he began to take off your clothes like a madman, not being gentle. Without asking for your permission. You let him; you just wanted him to calm down, and you couldn’t deny that you liked being in constant uncertainty, wandering through adrenaline and the inevitable fall. Over and over again. Maybe that’s what the drug felt like. Maybe that was the experience Sanzu wanted to give you. His hands roamed your body, while his lips sucked on your neck. You’re everything no other bitch could give him; stoic attitude you had when he committed violence against someone.  you’re the personified passion he always wanted. The stoic attitude you had when he committed violence against someone. Everything. He couldn’t lose you. He would kill the idiot he thought he could.

He immediately lowered himself, kneeling in front of you. You looked at him stunned. He had never done it. You thought he would never do it. He rested one of your legs on his shoulder and found your intimacy. He slid his tongue on his lips and prepared to lick you. His lips sucked on you, making your legs tremble.

“Who can make you feel like this?” He asked, masturbating you with his hand. “Just me, bitch,” he answered himself, increasing the pace. “You’re such a fucking whore.”

You moaned. You couldn’t control it. He knew all your spots. His degradation made you feel exactly how he wanted you to feel. He knew what you liked.

He stopped and stood up to your height. He took your leg and put it on his hip, moving closer to you and putting his arm around your body. He showed you his erection and sank inside you with ease.

“I don’t know why I can’t kill you." He put his head in the crook of your neck as he moved harshly. “You live doing this, and I just..." He trailed off, specifically to let out a growl. “I can’t.”

Those words only made you moan louder, focusing on the pleasurable sensation.

“You’re such a whore,” he repeated many times, increasing his speed radically. “Don’t you ever come near anyone else again,” he demanded, growling more in your ear. “Did you hear me?” His hand positioned itself around your neck and squeezed with some force.

“Yes, Sanzu” You answered as best you could, ignoring the growing pain. “No one else. Just you and me.”

He smiled. You had finally understood that you were just his bitch.

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if i survived a slasher it’s because i fucked him

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Kinktober Day 26: Phone sex (Stu Macher x Reader)

Warnings: fem!reader.

“I’d love to be there,” Stu said into the phone mockingly. “But I’m busy right now.”

You sighed. His mock sad tone might have bothered you another time, but now the feeling of tension in your crotch controlled your actions. For now, you swallowed your words.

“A while,” you asked with a thread in your voice, in a failed attempt to not feel so vulnerable by asking him.

There was a silence. He thought. He debated whether to say goodbye or give you some fun. Thinking for a moment, he smiled to himself: he would do both. He would give you both in record time.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered, putting the voice changer near his mouth.

The action gave you a shiver that ran through your entire body.

Ghostface’s voice always gave you indescribable pleasure. He did know how to do things. You knew he did it mainly to fulfill your whims quickly. But it didn’t bother you as much now. You did as he asked.

“Now, put your hand under your panties” He demanded, following the same dynamic as the previous sentence. “Come on, be a good girl.”

Again, you obeyed him. Your fingers rested, for now, passively on top of your intimacy. The soft brush of your fingers gave you a fervent desire for him—to have him, to feel him on top of you. That had only made things better.

“Good” He chose with a seductive tone as he heard your voice begging him to continue. “You certainly wouldn’t survive in a horror movie.”

You rolled your eyes, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn’t there to see you. Well, that was most likely. You resigned yourself to not scolding him because you wanted him to continue with his instructions.

“Too bad, isn’t it?” You teased with a playful tone.

His laughter was quickly heard.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered with a predatory voice. “I want to hear your moans.”

Your fingers moved instantly, as if you were controlled by him. At first, you moved up and down, then you experimented, making circular movements like he would do at a certain point.

It clearly wasn’t enough. You needed his tongue. But at least it was a little close to the ecstasy he made you feel. You felt your fingers wet and the growing need to want to finish due to the tension that was building in your body due to the pleasure you felt. Your moans were not long in showing. It was a small gift you could give yourself; there was no one in your house, and you could be loud enough.

“Now use your fingers, sweetheart.”

Two of your fingers entered you easily. It wasn’t good enough as his long fingers, but you had to settle. You did it at a fast pace, feeling how you reached the bottom of you. Your skin was goosebumping; you moved desperately trying to get your sweet release.

You only heard his laughter on the other end of the phone.

You closed your eyes and imagined he was there, licking your pussy while his long fingers moved rhythmically inside you. Your moans began to increase, your skin became goosebumps, your breathing became labored, and the sensation in the pit of your stomach began to approach. Your fingers became even more soaked as you felt the surge of energy and the current that was discharged throughout your body. Your nipples are erect, and your limbs are trembling.

In the silence of the room, only your labored breathing could be heard. Finally, you felt relaxed. You experienced something other than tension. You were about to thank him for giving you the extra incentive, since without it it would be difficult for you. You had gotten used to him. However, he spoke first.

“What a nice view." And he hung up.

You were so embarrassed.

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Kinktober Day 25: Sex slave (James Moriarty (BBC) x Reader)

Okay, this is the worst man I've ever loved in my life. And I'm loving every damn second of it. (Another clear and indisputable representation of the power play)

Tags: @wilsons-striped-ties @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek

Warnings: It doesn't really count as yandere, but you can also imagine it as yandere if you want, degradation, power play, oral (male receives), death threats, choking, gender neutral.

You licked his expensive shoes, crouched in front of him, both hands on the floor. His expression looked bored. Maybe the only good thing about you was that he didn't need a death threat to force you to chain your neck. You just did it because you liked the idea. You liked him.

Yes, that was the only good thing about you.

But he was curious. He had told Sherlock to annoy him that he should have a full-time ordinary person, just like Holmes had Watson. Of course, that wasn't true at first. However, he thought it could be fun to take advantage of an ordinary person who idealized him. He considered it a small personal gift. Maybe then he would understand why Sherlock feels so much for boring ordinary people.

With you, he would give it a try.

He grabbed your chain and, with a strong tug, made you look at him. You were charming; you looked expectant and scared. Yes, you were scared. He mocked. It was obvious. Everyone fears him. You are not a damn exception. In fact, to him, you were just another pet.

Something he can use and discard.

But you didn’t expect more than that. The pull of the chain still hurt your neck, but you didn’t complain. You just watched him, following his order.

“Stop licking my shoes,” he ordered, with an indecipherable expression. “You dirty them.”

He went to sit at the other end of the room, still holding the chain, enjoying when a painful moan came out of you when he pulled it so you would follow his path. He saw you crawling towards him since you didn’t have time to stand up and behave like a decent person without him deciding to choke you.

“I’ll make a call." He watched you from his dominant position. “You’ll do a good job with that mouth of yours." He ordered you, with a dark tone behind it. “If you don’t make me react by the time the call ends, you will die.”

The smile he gave you was chilling. For the first time, you had doubted your decision. Fear settled in your chest as you looked at a man who seemed to have no understanding or empathy for anyone. However, you couldn't keep thinking, as his call had already started. With your trembling hands, you pulled down his zipper and unbuttoned the button of his expensive pants. You carefully pulled his cock out of his underwear without ruining anything, as he probably thought the clothes he was wearing were more valuable than you. To him, your level was very low. You are an ordinary, common person. Usually, he ignores those kinds of people until he needs something.

So you had to listen to him.

Your mouth moistened the tip of his penis, increasing the depth quickly. Not wanting to waste any more time. You could literally worship his cock every day of your life. Your pace was fast, and you deepthroated him in no time. Trying as hard as you could so he couldn't hear your gagging.

He didn't seem to care. He was still focused on his phone.

Your anxiety increased. He would kill you. You weren’t good enough. “If what you say is a lie..." He sadistically warned the receiver of his call. “I will have your eyes in my living room.”

Your arousal grew upon hearing that warning. Without really knowing why, without realizing that you were gradually beginning to like twisted things.

If he doesn’t kill you first.

You sensed that he was about to end the call. So, you decided to do the first thing that came to mind. You took the chain that held you prisoner and wrapped it around your neck, and you choked yourself with your free hand. With the little strength you had left, you tried to get a reaction out of him once again.

And when his eyes settled on you, he looked happy. Happy to see your pain and suffocation. He pulled your hair and pulled you back, indicating that he didn’t want any more oral.

With his gaze, he dared you to keep choking yourself. And you didn't know how much he would get tired.

You didn't know if he would get tired either.

“Don't you think ordinary people are adorable?” He asks into the cell phone, but looking at you.

When he cut the call, you stopped choking. You tried to catch your breath, coughing away from him but staying prudently close. He smiled and was happy to see your suffering prosper. He patted you condescendingly on the head. Enjoying your obedience.

“From now on, you are my sex toy, slave." He sentenced pulling your hair back, making you look at him. “Say goodbye to your reputation.”

And when he saw that, you looked at him as if he were everything, as if there was no one bigger than him. With your impressed eyes.

Maybe, within his mentality incapable of feeling attachment to someone, maybe within his inability to understand human relationships. Just maybe he understood, at least a little bit, Sherlock.

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Kinktober Day 24: Daddy kink (Kisaki x Reader)

Late

Warnings: degradation, ownership, power play

Kisaki was a bad man. He penetrated you hard and without mercy, delighting in your shameless moans. He closed his eyes, experiencing the sweet sensation of being inside you. He put two fingers in your mouth and forced you to suck them lustfully, an order that you immediately complied with. His smile was sadistic, like those times when he had won with his intelligence against a strong and powerful man in a fight. He felt powerful, both in his sexual life and in his daily life.

He would never allow you to try to dominate him.

If no one could do it, you would do it even less.

But you didn't care; you didn't care about anything he said or did. He could do whatever he wanted with you because he was the man who took care of you, protected you, and kept you. It didn't matter what unpleasant things came out of his mouth, what horrible actions he took with his hands, or the disapproving looks he gave you when you did something he didn't like.

Nothing.

He had a very marked role in your life. And you loved every second of it.

“Shit, daddy, keep going,” you suggested between moans, smiling when the bed started to make more noise when he increased his thrusts.

“Keep saying it, you fucking whore,” Kisaki asserted himself on the back of the bed and fucked you more fiercely without caring if anyone else could hear them.

Your moan was absolutely arousing, and your desire was always increasing when he degraded you. You lived for it. To get his attention, even if it was negative. And you couldn’t deny that you loved it when he treated you like that.

“Daddy, please keep going." You whispered, between gasps, feeling the wet hair falling on your face. “Please, daddy, break me.”

Kisaki wrapped his hands around your neck, while with the other he gave himself momentum with the back of the bed. His grip wasn’t strong, it was weak, he didn’t feel like being excessively naughty today. You hadn’t been bad.

“You’re mine, bitch,” he said, not looking into your eyes, focused on his thrusts. “Tell daddy what he wants to hear.”

The force of his movements shook you completely. At first glance, you were just a savage. A woman who had lost control at the hands of a bad man. Like many others. But, for now, you could only beg for him to lead you to doom, to use you like any other pawn in his plans, to degrade you in front of others, to disapprove of you, and to say that you were immature.

“You own me, daddy,” you screamed loud enough for the people in adjoining rooms to hear. “Use me, daddy, please.”

He smiled. That sadistic smile. The same one he gave you when he punished you. Exactly the same when his cold plans were put into action and worked completely.

“I’m going to use you until I get tired of you.” He pulled his hand from your neck to slap you across the face, then squeezed your chin so you focused on looking at him. “And you’re going to enjoy every second of it, you hear, bitch?”

You smiled.

“Yes, daddy.” You threw your head back.

If you kept this up, he’d never get tired of you. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad after all.

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Kinktober Day 23: Against the wall (Henry Bowers x Reader)

Warnings: Manipulation, degradation, creampie, Patrick being himself, boys are not gentlemen (I missed this warning so much), attempt to write in gender neutral.

You slowly packed your things into your bag. You weren’t in a hurry. You were the only one left in the room. The lights were off, and the hallway was so empty it gave you the creeps. Things were happening in Derry. Serious things. But you decided to go calmly. You couldn’t show fear, much less with your situation. You closed your backpack, deciding it was time to leave.

However, Henry had already decided.

He entered the classroom quickly, closing the door behind him. His fists were clenched, and his breathing was labored. He was upset.

Very upset.

You decided to stay calm. You waited for him to reproach you.

“You talk to losers now?” He approached you menacingly, leaving you cornered against the wall at the back of the classroom. Leaving you trapped, unable to escape.

“Richie only spoke to me at the casino to annoy me." You defended yourself without the need to show annoyance. “I just answered him so I wouldn’t be rude.”

Henry cornered you against the wall and slammed his fist hard against it. You showed a small sign of shock. You knew what that meant. Usually, it was a way to vent anger on an object so as not to do it with the person in front of him.

A courtesy that he could only allow himself with you.

You learned to appreciate the good part of that action.

“Actually, I think he just wanted to cause trouble." Henry squeezed your arm hard. “And you, you’re just a dumb bitch who plays along.”

A small sign of disgust showed on your face. You were sure that the situation he was accusing you of wasn’t too serious. In fact, it wasn’t at all. You said three words to Richie, which was three seconds of your life, and then you went back to your business. You saw the loudmouth Tozier only once, and Henry was making a fuss.

“You will stop talking to people I don’t like,” he ordered, pushing you against the wall once more. “I can’t make myself look like an idiot in front of everyone.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, genuinely puzzled. “I doubt anyone has said anything about it, if I may say so.”

If looks could kill, you would definitely not be in this world anymore. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips.

“Hockstetter told me he’s seen you talking to him many more times.” His hands unleashed more force on you. “If you do that again, you’ll suffer.”

Not rolling your eyes was a real effort. That idiot Patrick was again sowing discord between the two of you. He liked seeing Henry get angry at you; he loved watching him take out his anger on you and insult you. He was a fucking bastard.

But you decided to play your cards better this time. “Actually, Patrick makes me nervous,” you started to say, feigning fear and focusing your gaze downwards.

Henry’s fingers lessened the strength of their grip on your hips. It was working. He was upset, but not with you this time.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He snapped, snapping out of his vulnerable moment and returning to his usual aggressive attitude. “Talk now.”

“He gives me the wrong looks.” You looked him straight in the eyes, putting on your best damsel in distress. “When you’re not around, he hints at his fucking weird fantasies.”

Henry circled his fingers around your neck and squeezed. He was getting angry. Your hand tried to pull his away, to no avail.

“And why didn’t you tell me anything?” He held your neck even tighter. “Do you even like him, bitch?”

Your breathing was coming in short gasps. You had little time to defend yourself and look good in front of him. It was hard to manipulate him because he was always angry and never let his guard down with anyone.

“He told me you would never believe me,” you said between your gasps. “He thinks he has a little bit of control over you.”

Henry, let go of your neck. He was much more upset. You suppressed your smile. At least you had gotten him to forget about your supposed mistake. Besides, the information you gave him was half true anyway. Much more true than a lie.

Henry was going to leave, probably to fight with Patrick.

But you had already decided for him. You grabbed his arm, meeting his confused and annoyed gaze.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed him slowly, increasing your speed as he responded to you.

“15 minutes until they arrive to check the classroom,” you informed him between kisses.

“Something is something.” He gave you a cheeky smile.

His lips focused on your neck. He wanted to leave many marks. He wanted everyone to see that no one could mess with you, that only he could manipulate you and do whatever he wanted with you. He was the only one who was allowed to do all kinds of things with you. He left three hickeys on your neck that were hard enough to hide. In fact, you were sure it was impossible.

He pulled down your pants. You knew he would start right away. He wasn't a man who cared much about that kind of thing. He was an ordinary man, like everyone else. It was an open secret among your female colleagues that men generally got straight to the point. Even, as far as you knew, some normalized not feeling anything. You felt a lot, so you could only pity them from afar.

He didn't waste any more time and inserted his cock into you. His thrusts were strong, full of rage and anger. He wanted to take out all the problems you had caused him. If he were somewhere else, he would have punished you a couple of times already. But there was no time. Although perhaps that should have been your punishment, that the cleaners of the classroom would see you when they came to check it. However, he avoided breaking the faces of people who could accuse him of his father. So he resigned himself to having in mind that he had to provide you with a punishment. You felt a little pain, yes, but the pleasure dominated. An electrifying sensation ran through your body as you saw the movement of Henry's ass inside you, the muscles of his back tensing and his eyes closed, repressing expressing too much pleasure with his face.

You allowed yourself to smile, as if you didn't already know. Then, your eyes went to the window. And you were surprised; it was the first time your features revealed an inner thought since Henry came to see you. But it was obvious; Patrick knew how to make an impression. He looked at you with a sick smile.

He had probably come to see how Henry scolded you, but he found something much better.

His eyes screamed what he wanted to tell you.

You are a fucking manipulator. I would like to shut you up.

You smiled back at him, knowing that you had gotten his message. And from there, you overexaggerated your reactions. Letting him know that his game had not worked. You could notice how Henry was getting more and more excited and going much harder so that he could feel your louder moans in your ear.

Patrick palmed his crotch and caressed it. He squeezed it and accommodated it.

Suddenly, you no longer felt pain during Henry's penetration. Only overwhelming pleasure.

Your face flushed. You had shown weakness to Patrick. This couldn’t be good.

A shameless moan that was clearly honest left your mouth. Patrick, being an expert at picking up on weaknesses, noticed it immediately. He smirked at you. He had won.

Henry smiled as he watched you come undone easily; he could feel your fluids wetting his cock. He chased his release.

He looked into your eyes, and you forced yourself to keep your gaze on him.

However, when he finished, he did so with his eyes closed. You looked back at the window, but there was no one there. Henry fixed himself up again, absorbed in the cum leaking out of your entrance and down your leg. In a rush, he lifted you onto the table and spread your legs.

He watched obsessed with his cum leaking out of you and staining the table.

“You will not talk to people I don’t like." He remembered without looking at your face. “And Patrick will have to deal with me,” he sentenced.

And he left. When he was at the door, he grabbed the handle and turned his gaze to you.

“Get dressed,” he ordered mockingly. “I don’t want them to see you.” You sighed when he was already far away.

If he knew that Patrick saw you and shamelessly touched his own crotch, your boyfriend wouldn’t be so happy.

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I would appreciate it if fictional bad guys whose justification for their actions is literally zero, weren't so handsome and attractive. Please, I ask for my mental health.

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Night Teeth (2021)

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When do you think your going to get your requests done? Not rushing btw! Just wondering, love your content❤️

I remember saying during October, I don't know how possible it is if I'm honest, as I've had enough to do, but I hope it will be during October and if not, at the beginning of November.

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Kinktober Day 22: Roleplay (Billy Loomis x Reader)

Today for me is October 22nd blah blah blah lol

Warnings: Knife play, slight persecution, attempt to write in neutral gender.

He was chasing you in your own house. You weren't too afraid, because it was just a roleplay; however, you'd be lying if you didn't accept that you were always a little afraid of Billy.

But he wasn't Billy anymore.

He was ghostface. He simply wanted your pain and suffering. And that wouldn't change just because you were his partner.

The more you ran and hid inside your own house, the more genuine fear you felt. You ran away from all the places where you heard noises, wondering from time to time if Billy had forgotten that this was just a roleplay. Twisted, yes. But a game nonetheless. As you ran looking back to find out if he was following you, you collided with him head-on. Stunned, you turned your gaze towards him.

Just ghostface.

You had to be thankful. With you, ghostface was a roleplay that he accepted to please you; however, with the others, it was different. With the others, it wasn't a game. You trembled at the thought of the possibility of being a victim. You shivered at the thought of the possibility that the knife he was wielding was meant to kill you. He grabbed your arm and guided you easily, despite your attempt to escape from him. In one movement, he threw you to the ground, making you fall heavily, moaning in pain. You watched him in fear. You didn't know what you had asked for. Billy was terrifying on his own, but you never thought that Ghostface acted as a completely different identity; it's like he's Billy's shadow. It's like he's all the dark desires he tried to repress.

He approached you, showing you his knife with sarcasm. He quickly covered your mouth when he noticed that you were going to scream. His knife was positioned at your neck; you felt the cold metal brush your skin, and it gave you chills. The mere possibility of thinking that with a movement of his hand, it was going to be the end for you. You breathed calmly as the metal blade slid across your body, threatening to put pressure on certain places. It was a mix of fear and desire. The perfect combination you wanted to experience was the only one you wanted to experience today. He stopped fantasizing about carving his initial with the blade on your skin and started cutting your clothes with his knife. In an animal way. Treating you like an object.

You watched him from your position; you saw how he ripped your underwear and how his fingers touched you to know how wet you were. He smiled when he saw the wetness on his gloves. He was having fun—having too much fun.

Ghostface turned you around so that your new position was face down. Your ass was bare before him, vulnerable. He slid the metal blade again, but this time on your ass. He slid it without sinking in, making the shape of a G, symbolizing that you were Ghostface's. The identity he was playing with you. What you proposed him to do. He was going to mark you, but he repressed him this time. You felt his gloved hands on your ass. He entered you, moving his hips with an animal instinct that was initially repressed. You let out loud moans as you felt his hands squeeze the flesh of your ass hard, without mercy.

He buried himself in you; you felt it deep inside, as if he wanted to break you. Leave you in unbearable pain for several days. His spankings started out strong, but as he heard your moans louder, the blows increased in intensity. Your ass was red and sore, but he continued to hit for his own pleasure.

Ghostface lay on top of you, his chest next to your back, and he wrapped an arm around your neck, making your head imprisoned against his chest. He squeezed hard, as his intention was to cut off your breathing. His hips followed his strong and hard movement. His remaining hand remained on your shoulder, squeezing it when a sensation drove him particularly crazy.

His thrusts were more brutal, and his release was close. You were struggling to breathe, your air supply being cut off, but you tried to relax when you knew from the way Billy's body shook that he was close.

Billy's entire body was rigid, wanting your entrance to be filled with his cum. It was what he wanted more than anything.

His arm loosened, allowing you to breathe.

Ghostface stood up, looking at how he had ruined you. He flipped you over, laid you flat on your back, and sat on top of you. He once again ran the knife across your skin. He stopped at your hip.

Maybe that would be a good place to permanently place his initial. The knife went pressing against your skin.

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Kinktober Day 21: Power play (Mycroft Holmes BBC x reader)

BBC's Mycroft Holmes is the epitome of power play (now you know where my kink fixation came from)

Warnings: fingering, tight riding, ownership, degradation.

Tag: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek

“I hope I don’t have to threaten you too,” he said in his authoritative voice, looking down at you from his desk in a contemptuous manner.

You let out a pleasant, youthful laugh.

“Do you really think I would talk?” You walked over to him, passing by his desk, stopping short when he quickly ordered you to do so with a gesture of his hand.

“Of course not.” He smiled proudly. “Now, I have work to do.”

“Was that all?” You asked disappointedly. “Is that just why you made me come here?”

The look he gave you shut you up immediately. It was obvious you were questioning him because he hadn’t touched you in weeks. He could see it from the rhythm of your breathing and the constant rubbing of your legs. You are so transparent. It was difficult to hide things from him. Not to say impossible.

Despite his order, you walked over to the chair and touched the back of it softly with your hand, swallowing. You didn’t want to say anything wrong, you couldn’t make mistakes with him. He was a man of cold nature. The fact that he didn’t kick you out was already a step forward for you.

“Please,” you begged, anxiously.

Once again you didn’t know what he was thinking. Would he kick you out of his office? Would he cut you out of his life forever for bothering him? Would he get upset with you and call you immature and boast of his intellectual superiority to you?

His chair moved slightly, just enough for you to get closer to him. You did, still without sitting down, and slowly took off your clothes, not caring that he might change his mind and make a fool of you.

No, you didn’t care.

Even if he made a fool of you, you would thank him for it.

You were naked in front of him, while he was dressed. However, that wasn’t the only symbol of power between the two of you, this was just a lewd representation of reality.

The truth is that Mycroft knew everything: your schedule, where you were, who you were with, the content you saw, and he could even deduce your thoughts so easily.

Nakedness was just an insufficient symbol of power.

It was the relationship they would forever have. He would do whatever he wanted with you, he would know everything about you, he would tell you your next possible thoughts and he would belittle you for being so naive. He would tell you that you should listen to him, that you are immature.

His eyes for the first time wandered over your body. He was impassive, he was indifferent to nakedness. He was not such a simple man.

But he saw the desire in your eyes, the need you had for him to possess you and show you who was in charge.

Yes, you had the perfect reactions: fear, pleasure and surrender. Total surrender.

Yes, he controlled your life. But he tried to do it with everyone. So you didn't feel particularly attacked.

He nodded a couple of times as he looked at your body once more and stood up from his chair. His fingers dug into your waist and he lifted you onto his desk.

Two fingers dipped inside you and he fingered you in a spectacular way. He hit all your spots with such easy and simple movements.

He knew your body perfectly.

Knew how to give you everything.

Your hands gripped the table, unable to believe the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

You felt an emptiness when he pulled his fingers away.

He shoved his wet fingers into your mouth, reveling in your submission. Yes, he had power. So much power. He could ruin your life with one call. He could do so many things and no one could do anything about it.

He had never been a possessive man, but you were practically his. You liked being under his control. Him telling you he was better than you in every way.

His clever degrading comments.

You lapped up your own fluids in desperation and hunger.

He sat back down in his seat. Directing his gaze to your wet crotch, not taking his gaze away from there. Touching your thigh softly.

He patted his lap.

You obeyed him immediately, riding his leg. Moving with passion and madness, holding on to the back of his chair, while his gaze was contemptuous.

The sensation grew inside you, taking over your body, continuing with the movement even though your body was completely sweaty.

Despite his silent humiliation.

You stained his expensive pants with your fluids.

“Tomorrow you will go see Sherlock” He ordered, ignoring your orgasm.

“I can’t” You denied, quickly. “I have plans…”

“No…” He denied your comment in anticipation.

You sighed. He was never wrong.