#A Little Bite;; { Vincent }

[inoankin]

gay vampire alert!!!!!

[gemscales-and-tea]

Vincent, with two murders and cannibalism under his belt:

Cue a long, deep sigh, "... Fine. I'll work for you."

@timelostobserver

[daveys-angel01]

vincent calling lovely "little one" is my religion

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

I love it!!!

I love how "little papillon" translates to "little butterfly". Gahhhh.

Vincent Price as Victor Marton - The Man From U.N.C.L.E ; The Foxes and Hounds Affair

[pey-up]

had a panic attack and watched deadplate and it fucking helped whuh

[cherubfae]

𝔧𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶, 𝔧𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}

With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman

tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included

Michael

Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.

Brahms

Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.

"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.

Jason

As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.

Billy & Stu

Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.

"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.

Vincent

There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.

But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.

"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"

Bo

Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.

"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.

Lester

Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.

A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."

Thomas

Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.

Sal Fisher

Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.

Patrick

A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.

"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[ruewrote]

𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: miscommunications, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, best friends to lovers, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: rosyln by bon iver & st. vincent WORD COUNT: 2.4k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: the twins never went missing

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

you couldn't take it anymore.

you couldn't take how he looked at her, how he fawned over her.

you were lucky that you all didn't hang out all that often; it spared you the ache of seeing his eyes light up in her presence, the way his shoulders seemed to relax when she entered the room.

you told yourself it didn’t matter, that josh was just like that with everyone, that he was friendly, charming, warm, and that’s why everyone loved him. 

but you knew better.

he wasn’t like that with everyone. not even with you.

with you, it was different. closer, deeper, there was something about him that had always made your heart beat just a little too fast when you were around him. the way he opened up to you, trusted you in ways he didn’t with anyone else, it was undeniable. the jokes you shared that no one else understood, the way he could tell what you were feeling without you having to say a word.

it made it so much worse.

you were his best friend. one of the closest people to him. 

and that was the problem, wasn’t it? you were his person, the one he called at all hours, the one he could be vulnerable with, but you were just his best friend. not the girl he was falling for. not the one he looked at the way he looked at her.

that had been your role from the start. from the moment you met, there had been something between you two. an instant connection that made it seem like you’d known each other for years. you’d always been closer to him than anyone else. you’d been the one he trusted with his secrets, the one he leaned on when things got tough, the one who could make him laugh no matter what.

but you weren’t the one he wanted.

it hurt in a way that was impossible to explain to anyone else. everyone else thought you were lucky. so lucky to be so close to him, to have a bond like that. and in some ways, you were. but it was also a curse, because you saw every part of him, every version of him, and none of those versions saw you the way you saw him.

you had loved him for so long now that you can't even remember when it started. it was like it had always been there, a quiet longing that had woven itself into your everyday life, into every moment you spent with him. it was in the way he smiled, the way he laughed. it was in the way you had to constantly bite your tongue, afraid of letting something slip, of ruining everything.

because if he ever knew, you’d lose him. you were sure of it.

losing him would break you, shatter the fragile balance you’d managed to maintain between being his friend and wanting so much more. so you stayed silent, holding onto your secret like a lifeline, even as it threatened to drown you.

but it was getting harder.

especially when he was around her.

every time you all hung out as a group, you’d see it. the way his focus shifted entirely to her, even though you were right there, next to him. you had been with him through everything. you’d comforted him when things had gone wrong, celebrated with him when things went right. you knew him better than she ever could, but none of that seemed to matter. because when she was in the room, it was like he couldn’t see anyone else.

and you? you faded into the background, watching from the sidelines as he laughed with her, touched her arm, made her feel like the centre of his world. the worst part was, he didn’t even realise he was doing it. he didn’t notice the way your smile faltered, the way your heart sank a little lower every time they exchanged a glance. to him, everything was normal, nothing had changed. but for you, everything had.

you started avoiding him more and more. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. god, you wanted to, more than anything. now you’d make excuses, telling him you were busy, that you had something else going on, anything to avoid having to see them together. you didn’t want to admit it, not even to yourself, but the truth was, you were jealous. jealous of her, of how easy it was for her to hold his attention, to make him smile. jealous that she could take up space in his life in a way that you never could.

but he noticed. of course he did. 

“where have you been lately?” he’d asked one night, his voice quiet over the phone. you could hear the concern, the confusion in his tone. “you’ve been avoiding me.”

he was right. you’d been avoiding him, and it hurt to know that he’d only now picked up on it. but what could you say? how could you possibly explain what was going on without exposing everything?

“i’m just... busy, i guess,” you’d mumbled, hating how weak the excuse sounded even to your own ears.

“busy?” he’d repeated, disbelieving. “too busy for me? since when?”

since i fell in love with you and couldn’t stand seeing you fall for someone else.

but you didn’t say that. instead, you shrugged it off, told him it was no big deal, that you’d try to make more time. he didn’t push you further, though you could tell he wasn’t satisfied with your answer. and the worst part was, you wanted to tell him, to come clean, to let him know how much you missed him, how hard it was to be around him now. but you couldn’t.

there were moments, though, when you thought maybe he saw it. when you’d catch him looking at you in a certain way, when his hand would linger just a little too long on your shoulder or his eyes would meet yours. 

but then she’d show up, and whatever that look was, it would disappear, replaced by the same easy smile he gave everyone.

you told yourself it was enough to just have him in your life, even if it meant just being his best friend. you told yourself that as long as you had him, it didn’t matter. that you could deal with the pain as long as it meant keeping him close.

every day, it got a little harder to believe.

every day, you wondered how long you could keep this up before you’d fall apart completely.

the lodge was just as you remembered. cosy, crackling fires, that familiar woody scent, the echo of laughter from friends you cherished. only this year, it was a trap. the yearly trip had once been a thing you looked forward to, a break from the world, a time to reconnect. but now? now it was something you endured. somewhere in the weeks between trips, that cosy escape had morphed into a place of constant, aching tension.

you’d told yourself you couldn’t bail, couldn’t make up some flimsy excuse, not when everyone else had been looking forward to it so much. you were sure your friends would be crushed if you didn’t come, so you dragged yourself up the mountain and planted yourself in your own private hell.

from the moment you arrived, you set boundaries. if josh was in one room, you were in another. if he decided to grab a drink, you stayed behind. if it was movie night, you settled on the opposite side of the big, sectional couch, pretending to be fully engrossed in the movie while pointedly ignoring the fact that he was there at all. you had to keep it together; you had to. it was the only way.

and it almost worked. you stayed busy, found ways to keep your hands occupied, excuses to leave whenever he was nearby. the days blurred together, and somehow, you’d made it this far. but now, close to the last night together, when everyone was off doing their own thing, he finally cornered you.

you’d snuck outside to the balcony for a few minutes of silence, hoping the cold would keep you grounded, numb out the ache a little. but the moment you leaned against the railing, you heard the creak of the door behind you.

“hey.” his voice was quiet, uncertain, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to start. “can i talk to you?”

you braced yourself, hoping he’d somehow lose interest, that he’d give up and go back inside. “it’s late, josh,” you replied, not quite looking at him.

“yeah, i know.” he took a few cautious steps closer. “but i need to know what’s going on. you’ve been… off. for a while now. and i can’t seem to figure out why.” he hesitated.

“did i do something?”

his words hit you harder than you’d expected, a pang of guilt tightened in your chest. you’d tried so hard to make it seem like nothing was wrong, like you were just fine, just busy, not wanting to hurt him or make him feel responsible. but you could see it in his face, he’d been taking it all to heart.

“you haven't done anything wrong. josh…,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. you looked away, out over the snowy trees, feeling your pulse race. “just don’t worry about it.”

but he didn’t back down. he took another step closer, closing the distance, feeling his eyes on you, searching. “of course i'm going to worry. you’re not… you’re not yourself around me anymore. you barely look at me. you avoid me all the time.” his voice softened, but there was a tinge of hurt in it. “i thought we were… i don’t know, i thought we were close.”

we were close, you wanted to say. too close. close enough that i’m losing myself to you without you even knowing it.

and finally, all the carefully built walls you’d put up came crumbling down. you closed your eyes, gripping the railing. “josh,” you started, the words tumbling out despite your attempts to hold them back, “i… i don’t know if i can do this anymore.”

he didn’t move, didn’t say anything, just waited for you to continue. so you did.

“i love you,” you choked out, the words raw and aching, sharper than any pain you’d ever known. “i've fallen in  love with you, josh, and i have been for so long. all i’ve ever wanted was for you to look at me the way you look at sam. to… to have you be as soft and sweet with me as you are with her.” you were shaking now, the cold biting into your skin, or maybe it was just the adrenaline flowing through your veins. “i tried so hard to be okay, to be fine with just being your friend, but i can’t, okay? i can’t do this, whatever this is anymore.”

you forced yourself to keep going, letting all the frustration, all the longing you’d been bottling up pour out. “i don’t know if i can just sit here and watch you… watch you fall for someone else.” a tear slipped down your cheek, you swiped at it, shaking your head. “it’s just too much.”

he was silent for a moment, his gaze steady, his expression clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice soft, pained.

but his apology, as genuine as it sounded, wasn’t enough to ease the ache in your chest, the way it felt like your heart was being torn in two. you couldn’t do this. you needed space, air, something to help you piece yourself back together before you broke down completely in front of him.

without looking at him, you turned, ready to make an exit back to your room, anywhere that would put some distance between you. but as you took a step, you felt his hand close around your arm, gentle but firm, holding you in place.

“wait,” he said, his voice urgent now. “please. don’t go.”

you stopped, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. you didn’t want him to see how close you were to breaking. “josh, i can’t… i can’t do this right now.”

but he held on, his fingers gripping a little tighter as if he was afraid you’d slip away. “no. i can’t let you just walk away,” he said, his voice unsteady. “not when i’ve finally heard the truth.”

you hesitated, feeling your chest tighten as he gently pulled you back towards him. reluctantly, you turned, looking up into his eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “all this time, i thought…” he swallowed hard, searching your face. “i thought you didn’t feel that way for me.”

you shook your head. “it was so obvious. how could you not see it?” you murmured, the pain slipping back into your voice. 

his expression softened, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his fingers brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t realised had fallen. “i didn’t know. i swear to you that i didn't,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i was terrified you’d never see me like that. that’s why i spent so much time with her, i was just trying to forget what i couldn’t have with you.”

your heart ached as his words sank in, the truth finally breaking through the wall you’d built around yourself. “what happens now, josh?” you asked, your voice trembling.

he looked at you, his gaze intense. “now? now i’m going to fight for you. i don’t care how long it took us to get here, i’m not letting you walk away.”

before you could even react, he pulled you closer, his hands slipping around your waist, holding you gently. “i’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured, his lips barely inches from yours. “and i don’t want to waste another second pretending that i don’t.”

your breath hitched as his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his lips met yours in a kiss that was everything you’d ever dreamed of, tender and fierce all at once, full of the longing and desperation that had built up over years of your silent, unspoken love.

when he finally pulls back, his breathing unsteady as he looks into your eyes. “stay with me,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “don’t run. let me be the one you deserve.”

for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, you saw the sincerity, the love shining there, you felt something shift inside you. the fear, the hesitation, all of it began to fade, replaced by a warmth you hadn’t felt in so long.

you nodded. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[toxicanonymity]

THE WAX JOB

PAIRING: Bo Sinclair x f!reader WC: 1.3k words | MASTERLIST WARNINGS: I8+ Dark. Noncon/dubcon (captivity), you're into it, as usual with mine. sick & twisted use of wax. PIV, creampies, breeding, forced pregnancy, lactation, dark caretaking/mild dark fluff. Started as HCs. End note. NOTE: Inspired by the 30-second scene at 3:10.

Breeding you is something Bo must do, like a farm chore. He keeps you locked up in the basement and visits you at the end of each day. You're kept on a worn medical chair, similar to what you'd find in a dentist's office, but roomier. Each evening, you hear him roll the garage door down upstairs, and it makes your heart flutter. Within a few minutes, his heavy footsteps echo down the stairs, and the jingle of his belt unbuckling. Sometimes a groan of fatigue.

He stares you down hungrily as he approaches with slow steps, tan hand flexing as he rubs himself. His strong forearms are smeared with motor oil from working in the garage. He takes you to the bathroom and watches you go, then puts you back in the chair. Manhandles you if he has to. Sometimes he stops to take a polaroid.

He stands at the foot of the chair and lifts his trucker hat to wipe his brow with the back of his wrist, then pulls the hat down into place again. He takes off his boots and tight jeans, casually talking to himself about the day and how pretty you look.

He spreads your legs. You fall into a trance salivating over the shape in his boxer briefs as he climbs onto the chair with you. He shoves his underwear down under his balls, and holds his cock in his hand, squeezing it a few times as he ogles your body. Shame heats your face as you watch and yearn for his thick, veiny cock.

In the first days, he keeps you gagged the whole time, but once he sees how much you enjoy it, he wants to hear your pretty sounds.

He pulls your dress up over your tits - no panties. allowed. He wets his lips, and smiles darkly to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt.

As he notches himself at your entrance, sweat drips off his face. Your lips part as he begins to push in. He bottoms out with a groan. He stays there and twitches inside. Without moving yet, he mutters, "gonna be such a pretty mama," and runs his thumb over your lips.

He grunts as he fucks you, and each thrust shakes the chair and makes it squeak, echoing off the walls. Sometimes he's rough. Sometimes he's slow.

He braces a forearm above your head and his sweat wafts from the darkened pit of his uniform.

With your cunt spread open around his cock, your mouth falls open with a moan. A salty drop rolls down his chin and lands in your mouth.

After a minute, you begin to whimper and squirm as you approach your climax. The basement is dusty and humid and you're sweating.

"You're gonna cum for me now," he pants, and you spasm. "Yeah, cum for me, darlin'," he whispers darkly, and it sends you. Your hips lift, your body jerks, you moan as your walls choke his cock, and he chuckles, "good girl. . . That's my girl."

He becomes more vocal as he fucks you through it. Sighing, grunting, moaning, "Good g---oh, baby."

"Ugghh---Here we go, darlin'," he mutters as he nears his peak. He groans unrestrained as he bottoms out and pulses warmly, heat spreading deep in your cunt.

He stays all the way inside and with his face inches from yours, he admires your features. He gently wipes the sweat from your brow, then slowly thrusts again as his last spasms fade. "Mmm."

Once he pulls out, he adjusts the chair so your feet are up. He calls for Lester to bring dinner down. Bo feeds you a few bites, or let's Vincent do it. Sometimes he tells you a little about his day like you're not strapped down with your legs in the air.

And then, when Bo's hard again -- which isn't long -- he goes again. And again. Until you can't physically hold any more cum.

Once you're full of his seed, Bo dismounts the chair and calls for Vincent as he pulls his jeans back on. He doesn't buckle them.

-------------

Vincent comes in with an old paint can full of hot wax and stands by the chair like an assistant. He doesn't look at you. Your legs are raised again and bo spreads your thighs wide. "Good girl," he whispers, then mumbles to Vincent, "ain't she pretty?"

Vincent offers Bo a cloth. Bo braces a hand on your mound and wipes any spilled cum off your lips, getting them as dry as he can. He reassures himself, "that's okay," as he laments the lost seed.

Then, he dips his thumb in the hot wax and Vincent looks away.

Bo brings his thumb between your legs and applies the hot wax to your outer labia, one after the other. He uses his thumb to tuck your folds inside, and then he presses your outer lips together and holds them shut like a clam.

"Little more," he urges Vincent. He adjusts his left hand so two of his massive fingers are holding your cunt shut. Then he extends his right hand toward Vincent and dips two fingers into the hot wax and dribbles some on the outside. "Good," he mutters and Vincent steps away.

Still holding you shut, Bo brings his face between your legs and gently blows on the hot wax, helping it dry. He takes his time with this, and his eyes sparkle at his work. "Night sweetheart," he whispers to your cunt and plants a kiss on your mound, then one on your lower belly.

This continues until you're pregnant.

_____________

Once you're pregnant, they let you upstairs to celebrate and Lester makes a special cake. They give you a new dress.

All three of them darkly dote on you throughout your pregnancy. You're still locked up, but you're allowed upstairs with supervision.

Bo has Vincent make a wax cast of your torso every month and they're displayed throughout the main floor of the house on makeshift pedestals. Lester is the one who's responsible for making your food and taking care of your basic needs. He's polite and never tries anything.

Bo is obsessed with your pregnant body. He can't keep his hands off you. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he'd mad with lust.

Once your milk comes in, Bo tastes it every day. He pulls your dress up over your tits and suckles sloppily at your engorged tits.

He lets the sweet breastmilk run down over the curve of your belly and he licks it up. Once he's down there he can't resist eating you out, which makes him really hard. Sometimes he does it right after dinner, while you're still in the common area. You're laid back on a threadbare couch with your legs over his shoulders. He doesn't mind if Lester or Vincent see, although they normally don't stick around to watch.

Feasting between your legs, Bo feverishly takes his cock out with one hand as he keeps his other hand on your breast. He can't pull his mouth away until he's ready to shove himself into you. He runs his tip through your folds, then pushes into you. He fucks you slow and gentle.

He briefly sucks your tit again as he fucks you. He makes sure you cum, then when he's ready to do the same, his face hovers an inch from yours. He Looks in your eyes, then lowers his forehead to yours. He groans against the corner of his mouth, then kisses you on the lips as he cums. His lips break away with a moan, then he kisses you gently as he finishes.

He cleans you up, and lets you sleep in his bed.

----------

tagging @lunitawrites my breeding encourager

Inspired by the moment from the link and a terrible product concept - I'm haunted by Mensez Feminine Lipstick, but go have a laugh if you want. notice his logo looks like a ball sack. This man actually wants us to glue our lips shut during our period. If you have Qs about the logistics of this. Please ask that guy 💀

[issdisgrace]

Getting giddy over here for some slasher content.

So I had an idea of a gn or male reader who had really strong or sharp teeth? Like for example if a bottle cap isnt coming off theyll just unscrew it with their teeth or even pop it off! Like headcannons

Open for any slasher content your pick because i’m in for it regardless‼️ (Stu definitely. I think he a cutie.) (ALSO sfw or nsfw stuff i’ll take it.) LOVE YOUR WRITTINGS!

SLASHERS WITH AN S/O THAT HAS SHARP TEETH

WARNINGS: SFW and NSFW content below the cut so read at your own risk

BO

Bo didn’t initially notice your teeth. But boy when he does they are his new favorite thing about you. He’s all over you. Making out constantly and adding in tongue so he can feel up your teeth a little less blatantly than sticking his fingers in your mouth and feeling them up.

Wants to do everything and anything that involves your teeth. Nip him with your teeth, bite him till the point he bleeds, drag out his pleasure with your teeth. Nothing, absolutely nothing is off the table with him.

MICHAEL

When Michael first saw your teeth and how sharp they were he did his signature held tilt. Then after this he quite literally shoved his fingers in your mouth and felt all up on your teeth. To say that he’s now OBSESSED with them is an understatement.

Has always had a thing for teeth but you have amplified it by 1000 percent. He likes to shove his hand into your mouth and feel your teeth while jerking himself off.

OTIS

Otis has seen some crazy stuff so your teeth don’t bother him and he doesn’t really think about them. However time to time he does hyper fixates on them and will shove his hands into you mouth so he can touch them and admire them.

Please please bite every inch of his body to the point that he’s covered head to toe in his own blood. And straight up if you do this he will ask you to marry him right on the spot.

PATRICK

Patrick loves your teeth. He always has and always will but he specially loves when you grin. It’s like a wolf who’s cornered its prey or like a cat with a canary in its mouth. And let me tell when he sees you grin it causes his heart skip a beat and gets him all hot and flushed.

He likes when you tease him with your teeth. Drag you teeth down his body. Bite him.

THOMAS

Thomas noticed your teeth when you first smiled at him. Your smile looked off to him and he was confused at first why at first. Sensing his confusion you quickly realized why and told him your teeth were sharp. He was like ok and went on with his day but he was curious about them.

Thomas WANTS to desperately know how your teeth would feel grazing his cock as you go down on him. But he’s too shy to ask you to blow him.

VINCENT

Vincent is utterly fascinated by your teeth. He wants to know when they got so sharp and how they got so scarp. This fascination blends into him drawing your so expect for your jaw to be sore from having it open so he can draw each and every one.

Vincent loves when you bite him to the point he bleeds because then he knows that he’s yours but also he loves the way your bite marks look on his skin.

[calmcoldevening]

Hi!! Can you please write how the slashers would react to the fact that the partner is taking too hot a shower / bath.Can you please add Asa, Thomas, Vincent, and Brahms (I don't force, I just really love them). If you want to write this, thank you in advance!!be happy and loved!!

Slashers x reader, who takes too hot bath/shower

Asa Emory

• He doesn't like it at all.

• When Asa is at home, he carefully makes sure that you take a bath or shower in slightly hot or warm water, he will really come up and check on it from time to time.

• If you still manage to take a shower or bath when he is not at home, and the water is really damn hot, you will receive a long lecture on the dangers of boiling water for your health.

• This man will specifically find time in his busy schedule to spend an hour of his time rubbing body cream or lotion into every inch of your skin to make sure that you definitely won't get burns.

Thomas Hewitt

• He finds it a little strange, because it's so damn hot at home or outside, why do you take a hot bath or shower? Thomas will be very worried that you might overheat and lose consciousness, or you might just get burned.

• From time to time, while you don't know about it, reduces the temperature of the water in the whole house in principle. He doesn't want you to hurt yourself.

• After each of your hot showers, Tommy is waiting for you on the veranda of the house with a glass of cool lemonade. Closer to night, it's not that hot outside, so you'll feel much better. Enjoy a cold drink while he gently brush your wet hair.

• Leaves gentle kisses on especially hot places of your body.

Vincent Sinclair

• He's used to working with warm or even hot wax, so he loves touching your body after you take a hot bath. Vincent will give you a massage, he will massage your skin with incredible tenderness and care, but with enough force to relax your muscles and give you pleasure.

• If you ask him to join, he will probably refuse, but he doesn't mind sitting with you and waiting for you to finish. He will sit with a slight dreamy smile under the mask, watching how light transparent clouds from hot water envelop your body and what steam comes from your skin. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful piece of art in the world, he is more than happy just to watch you.

• After the shower, he will wrap you in a towel, pick you up in his arms and carry you to the bed, laying you on cool sheets. The man will certainly take care of you and make sure that you are alright after such a hot temperature. He will gently wipe your entire body and hair, and then brush and dry them.

• He often has cold hands due to the fact that he basically eats little and works a lot, so he's more than happy to cuddle with your damn hot body. I mean, you're already very hot for him, but after a shower like that, you're as hot as damn hell. You are the most seductive devil for him.

Brahms Heelshire

• If you're taking a hot bath, he'll fucking join in. He doesn't care that the water is hot, it's even a pleasant tingling sensation on his scarred body. He'll be leaning against the side of the bathtub and hugging you to his broad chest. He doesn't care about the temperature of the water if it means he can be there with you!

• Well, if you are against his participation, because you finally just want to be alone for at least fifteen minutes, Brahms will throw a tantrum. He will cry and beat his feet and hands on the floor, lying on the carpet. He doesn't want his mommy/daddy to get burned in this hot water, so he has to be with them!

• Brahms will spy on you while you take a shower. It's so cute. You, all so beautiful and delicate, are standing under very hot water, letting out a relaxed sigh when the warmth touches your soft skin. He literally bites his lip under the mask when his vision blurs, not only because of his own hot breath, but also because of the steam of the bathroom. He just wants to come in and join you. Or write something on this foggy cloudy mirror. Water flows down your curves in quick streams in the most perfect places, he lets out an almost needy moan. You're too beautiful.

• When you're done and come out of the bathroom in just a towel, he'll immediately press you against the wall, kissing your still hot skin. You may have to take another shower.

[rcmclachlan]

Return of the Mack

For @alchemistc. Hope you feel better soon!

At the fire academy, three things are beaten out of every trainee: fear, a normal sleep schedule, and the social influences that prevent one from intervening in the event of an emergency. Some have jokingly called the third one the Anti-Bystander Effect, because if someone needs assistance—whether it's to stop an assault, run into a burning building, or help a little old lady find a quarter she dropped—a firefighter will immediately rush in to save the day. It's a special brand of classical conditioning that instills an elevated sense of responsibility in every trainee, and it's paid in full by the state of California.

Which is why it's so odd for there to be three capable firefighters standing around doing nothing while there's an old man clearly in need of dire assistance. If the LAFD higher-ups knew they were actively choosing to watch the carnage unfold instead of lifting a finger to help, they'd all be shitcanned. 

Luckily, there's a fourth firefighter on the scene doing the absolute most. 

"I thought we made a pact to keep him from using his powers for evil," Eddie says, taking a dispassionate sip of his coffee. 

"Is it evil if he's actually using them in service of a greater good?" Hen's attention is half on what's going down and half on the Notes app on her phone, where she's typing out the week's grocery list. "You know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

Draped over the railing like his bones have melted, Chimney gives a sage nod. "He's like a one-man Suicide Squad." 

In the apparatus bay, they watch as Vincent Gerrard uses the distraction of B Shift heading home to duck behind one of the engines, most likely to regroup after being thoroughly ambushed the second he stepped into the station five minutes ago. He slumps back and breathes. The moment of weakness costs him: a grinning demon rounds the corner and makes a bee-line for him as though he can taste blood in the air.

"So, which one of you said 'spreadsheet' three times in a mirror?" Ravi sidles up next to Chimney and unwraps a breakfast burrito from Delia's. 

Chimney gives him the stink-eye. "I hope you brought enough for the whole class."

"Nope," Ravi says, taking a cheerful bite.

"None of us summoned him," Eddie says. He leans down to try and catch the conversation being had, but he's too high up. For a second, he thinks he hears the words 'crack whore' but it's probably a trick of the bay's acoustics. "He's everywhere, always, just watching and waiting for you to slip up. Like God."

"Or the Devil," Hen says in agreement.

"Or Santa," Chimney adds.

Ravi chews thoughtfully. "I thought we threw out all the clipboards. Who gave him that one?"

"Tommy," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney say through a simultaneous, long-suffering sigh. 

It's not just any clipboard. It's the king of clipboards. It's the only clipboard that has ever fucked. The thing is a navy blue polycarbonate beast with "Buckley 118" embossed in fire engine red on the back, and the clip looks like it was forged in the fires of Staples HQ. 

At the bi-weekly Beer and Bitch Night last Friday at Golden Road Pub, Tommy had pulled it out of a bag and presented it on one knee like he was proposing, or bestowing a sword to a king. The entire brewery was then given front-row seats to an intense game of tonsil hockey that nearly went into overtime until Eddie threatened to call Athena because Bobby looked like he was seriously reconsidering sobriety.

"Does he know what he's unleashed?" Ravi sounds genuinely curious. 

As if on cue, Chimney's, Eddie's, and Hen's phones chime with three incoming messages. 

T.K. 07:26am: Has it started? T.K. 07:26am: Remember: you promised one of you would film it T.K. 07:27am: I'm offering 3 nights of free babysitting to the first person who delivers

That last one is followed by a gif of J. Jonah Jameson shouting "Bring me Spiderman!"

Hen frowns down at her phone. "Who the hell is that?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Chimney mutters.

H.W. 07:28am: Why are you so desperate for video?  E.D. 07:28am: What 40-something year old still pinky swears? H.H. 07:28am: Clipboard Buck better not be a weird sex thing for you, Kinard

Tommy's typing indicator appears, then disappears. Then appears and disappears again. Then appears—

"Yeah, no." Chimney hastily pockets his phone. "Those two were made in a lab for each other, I swear to god."

Down in the bay, Gerrard has moved to stand almost directly underneath them. While they can't hear what Gerrard says to Melanie Wu, an electrician so talented she could probably take down the entire grid with her eyes closed, that puts such a dour expression on her face, they can hear it when Buck, popping up behind Gerrard like an insane Jack-in-the-box, says, "Don't worry, Melanie! This is something to bring up during Thursday's workplace conflict seminar."

"What seminar?!"

Buck isn't cowed. He taps his clipboard and says, "The one I scheduled with Chief Alonso. You know, the mandatory one we all need to do in order to keep our certification—well, we'll keep it as long as nothing comes up during the seminar that might call into question our ability to do the job."

There's a charged moment where it almost looks like Gerrard might take a swing at Buck, but then he notices the audience hanging above him like a Greek chorus and shouts, "Someone'd better top off the fuel and DEF or—"

"Already done, Cap." Buck makes a show of turning to the second page on his clipboard and lists off, "All fuel, DEF, oil, and coolant are set. Tires have been aired up. Hoses have been drained and cleaned, and re-rolled. Engines were all waxed yesterday, all medical supplies have been inventoried and stocked, and I've made a list of the harnesses and cutting torches that need replacing. Just need you to sign off on everything. Sir."

The ingratiating smile on Buck's face would fool even the wiliest of senior officers, and Gerrard himself looks like even he's not sure if what just happened was disrespectful, but they know better. 

"Diabolical," Ravi whispers, awed. 

Hissing through his teeth, Gerrard spins on his heel and storms away in the direction of the little office in the administrative section of the firehouse where he's taken to holing up like a miserable groundhog until they get a call that forces him back out. If he sees his shadow on the firehouse wall, it's six more hours of bullshit.

As soon as he's gone, all the firefighters that had stopped to watch the show burst into laughter and applause, and Buck cracks up, taking sweeping bows and blowing kisses to his adoring fans. 

Chimney rolls his eyes and looks to see what Hen's expression is doing, because no one gives good face like she does, but she's holding her phone in a way that clearly means—

"You're filming this?" Chimney demands, betrayed.

She gives an unrepentant shrug. "Three nights of free babysitting? I'm not proud."

"You do know this means Buck's going to get laid and be absolutely insufferable about it, right?"

"Three nights," Hen bites out through very audible regret.

Buck looks up, flashes a grin, and the second he clocks the phone he salutes it with the clipboard. Then he struts after Gerrard, calling almost lazily, "Cap, wait up! I wanted to talk about setting up a mock exam for everyone who's planning on taking the TCFP D/O!"

They all watch him go. Silently, Hen sends off the video with the air of someone about to make a drug drop. 

"So, when does Taylor Kelly's exposé come out again?" Eddie makes a dubious face in the direction of the administrative offices. "Because I don't know that Gerrard won't off himself before it does."

"We win either way," Chimney points out. 

"It comes out next Monday," Hen says, slipping her phone into her pocket and elbowing Chimney in the arm on her way to the stairs. "Karen and I are hosting a watch party that night and you're all invited."

Ravi beams. "Thanks, Hen. I'll definitely be there."

"And you'll be bringing dinner from Taco Azteca—for everybody. Make sure you get enough carne," Chimney calls over his shoulder as he follows Hen. 

"I'm not a probie anymore," Ravi whines. "You can't haze me like this."

Snickering, Eddie pats him on the shoulder and says, "You do this and I'll make sure you're not sitting anywhere near Buck and Tommy when Taylor drops the bomb about Gerrard and Ortiz."

"Extra al pastor and buche it is!"

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | let’s get kinky (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; graphic sexual content, kink content, daddy kink (NOT ddlg), blood kink, knife kink

♡notes; i’m alive (ish) !!! i think i forgot how to write but have this

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> he’s a vanilla guy, honestly

> he’s a virgin when you meet and still believes a lot of what his mother taught him

> however, he is eager to please

> so eager to please that with some gentle coaxing, you could get him to try about anything once

> he’s a natural service top- but he’d bottom no questions asked

> in terms of dom and sub dynamics, he fits pretty snugly in the sub category

> but as I said, he’d try anything once, including completely doming you

> and even if he is submissive, the man is tall, wide, and pure muscle

> it’s not hard for him to get rough- sometimes he is without even realizing it

> but the aftercare is always top-notch, he takes care of you the whole rest of the day/night even if it’s not necessary

> funnily enough he thinks oral is pretty scandalous at first, but god he loves when you suck him off, lapping and trying to take all of him even though it’s probably impossible

Bo Sinclair

> maybe listing kinks he doesn’t have would be faster

> in all seriousness, there are quite a few he’d be gunning for when the topic comes up for the first time

> he loves being called daddy or sir, or would accept most other dom titles

> he’s super into roleplay- but he loses the plot pretty fast

> he love love loves tying you up and using you as he pleases

> if you trust him enough he’ll gag you too, and maybe leave you tied up while he goes to take care of business

> he likes spanking and biting and bruising your hips from gripping you too tightly

> and he likes kissing all of the little marks he left for days afterwards

>making sure they heal properly, he always says, though he’s quick to replace them

> if you can manage to get him to sub- big if- he’s an incredibly whiny and desperate brat. but taking him can be fun.

Billy Lenz

> he’s the switch of the century 🔥🔥🔥

> he alternates so frequently between praise and degradation that it’s jarring at times

> “oh just look at my pretty whore- you like billy’s cock? take it like the fucking slut you are—“

> and he loves loves loves being on the receiving end of both as well

> he has an oral fixation, big time. And if your fingers aren’t in his mouth, his fingers are in yours

> and, to no one’s surprise, he loves phone sex

> he’ll call you from the attic as foreplay

> and he loves watching you, peeping through the wall as you put on a show for him

> he loves edging- mostly on the receiving end

> and when he finally cums, he wants it to be all over your face or chest.

Danny Johnson

> borderline exhibitionist. maybe not even borderline.

> y’all are fucking in the car, in alleys, anywhere you can have just enough privacy

> and man oh man, is he going to take so many pictures of you

> posed on the bed or on your knees in front of him or freshly fucked and nearly in tears

> when he has you screaming, he wants to hear his name, not anything else

> he’s a hair puller, and he’s more than happy to choke you

> if you ask nicely, that is. he’ll have you beg for most things

> he calls you his kitty or puppy, or baby doll if you don’t like either of those

> if you stroke his ego and praise him, he’ll do absolutely anything you want

> he’ll even be a good boy and bottom for you if he trusts you enough - though he’s an absolute pillow prince when he does bottom

Hannibal Lecter

> debatably the “worst” of the bunch

> he’s the type to really commit to BDSM dynamics

> you WILL call him master, and he’ll probably call you “my pet”

> he likes choking, spanking, the whole nine yards that a lot of the other

> but he very much has a knife kink, and a blood kink. he likes giving little nicks and lapping the blood up, getting a proper taste of you

> of course he can live without it, but if you let him indulge you’d be greatly rewarded

> and even with his strictly dominant nature, he is a very generous master

> he loves going down on you, and he loves overstimulating you when he does

> he’ll have you whining before he gets past your thighs, seeming to always know just what to do make you squirm

[gemscales-and-tea]

❝ don't tell me to quit being melodramatic it's the only time i have any fun. ❞

(From Hades~)

"Do you have to do it in my kitchen?"

Not like he can be as aggressive as usual, considering his position when it came to Hades. So it's just a blunt question instead of a snap, smoke slowly curling up from the cigarette hanging from his lips.

@timelostobserver

[yanderepuck]

Idk if you've ever noticed, but Comte is AWFUL at explaining things. Half the time he didn't actually explain that he was turning the guys into a VAMPIRE.

Like Will thought he was selling his soul and then was 100% willing to bite people in order to live and Comte was like "NO NO. We have humane ways of doing that" and Will is like "oh..alright then"

But he doesn't get any better when he turns Vincent and Theo, but gives them a slightly better run down. But then they wake up still very confused. So Comte writes a little script of what he has to say when he turns someone.

Meaning this person is on their death bed and Comte whips out this hand written script and starts going over all the thing he thinks is important for them to know before he turns them.

Arthur just heard "eternal life", asked if he was going to look young again and then went "fuck yeah, bite me daddy" and that's coming from an 80 year old British man.

The script isn't even short, he has a lot to go over, but he has to turn the person before they fully die. It is a very flawed system and he's not getting better at it

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝐵𝑒𝒹

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, smutty headcanons, virginity mention, dirty talk, rough sex, just general nasty things

Michael Myers

Let’s be honest—this man was a virgin before you showed up

He was in a mental institution from a young age—not exactly the best place to fuck

Still, that certainly didn’t stop him

He picked up on what to do fast—it’s not all that difficult

Still, he definitely focused on himself

Whether or not you came was not his problem

You have to take matters into your own hands when it comes to that, using your fingers to work at your clit

Most of the time your body is jostled around to much to do so

He’s not gentle

Whatsoever

Things will be broken

The bed?

A bone?

Who knows

You have so so many marks

Bruises

Cuts

You always look like you fell through a wood chipper 

It’s not like you could reason with him, though

“Hey, can you, I don’t know, be gentle for once and not fuck me against a countertop?”

Yea, that would go over well

He gets. . . better. . . eventually

Still mostly selfish

But may rub against your clit as he’s pounding into you

By accident?

Unclear

Expect to walk with a permanent limp

RIP

Definitely into knife-play

So many shredded clothes

C’mon, what’d you expect?

The mask stays on during sex

Obviously

If he’s super comfortable he might pull it up enough to bite you

But don’t expect to catch a glimpse of his face

After-care? What’s that?

You clean yourself up 99% of the time

The only time he’s ever done anything was when you passed out during sex and woke up in your bed

Other than that, you don’t expect him to provide any cuddles 

He doesn’t even sleep in the same bed at night

Jason Voorhees

Tries his best to be so so so gentle with you

Also a virgin before you showed up

Not many people were lining up to fuck an undead monster haunting a summer camp

He’s. . . big. . . everywhere

It takes a while before you’re even able to take him properly

It’s not that you were unprepared, but at the slightest flinch of your face Jason would pause and refuse to touch you again for hours

You made sure to explain that you were fine and that you weren’t made of glass

But he was still petrified of hurting you

Still, when he finally calms enough to fully fuck you one night, you’re seeing stars

He’s slow and cautious, but eventually something lights a fire within him

Rubs his masked face into your neck apologetically as he rams into you

When you’re walking funny the next day he carries you everywhere

You don’t blame him for getting carried away sometimes, and even enjoy a little roughness more-often-than-not

He tries his best with after-care but is pretty clueless as what to do with you

When you’re exhausted and curled in on yourself he thinks he’s permanently hurt you

You tell him gently to run you a bath

Will attach himself to your hip and snuggle you until one of you is forced to get up

Nestles his masked nose against any marks he may have caused, letting out a low whimper

You run your hand down his back

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

Tries to make your pleasure his number one priority

Will listen intently as you bashfully explain what you want and like

Does as told

He’s a little rough, massive fingers toying with your clit hard enough to have you wincing

But eventually he gets the hang of it

Refuses to cum until you have

Even when you’re giving him head, he always has to be touching you in some way, getting you off just as much as your getting him off

Sometimes he can’t help himself and cums before you, only to let out a low whine of disappointment, like he was ashamed of himself

You’re never far behind, anyways

One of the most selfless lovers you’ve ever had

The fact he doesn't speak doesn't even cross your mind

He gets his points across fine with his actions and occasional low rumbles 

And you were never much for dirty talk, anyway 

Bo Sinclair

He’s a wild-card 

Some days he’s feeling generous enough to nestle his head between your legs, other days he’s got you gagging on his dick until can’t breathe

You’re unsure of what impacts his attitude, every night getting ready to expect something different

You supposed he had a lot of things happen in life, you couldn’t blame him for being a little hot-and-cold about things

Regardless of what’s happening, he’s got a lot to say about it

If he’s not growling in your ear, teasing you with dirty words as he rams into you, then he’s moaning loudly against your lips or neck

You don’t think he’s ever quiet for more than a few seconds

What he says varies, too

Some days it’s nothing but praise

“Whatta good girl you are. C’mon, sweetheart. You can do it. Almost there—there it is, darlin’. Don’t you look like a beauty chokin’ on my cock?” 

“That’s it, beautiful. Keep sayin’ my name. Feel good, huh? Don’t close those pretty lips of yours. I wanna hear ya when I fuck ya.” 

Other days he’s grabbing your ass harshly, scolding you for muffling your moans against his neck

“The fuck you think you’re doin’? You’re nothin’ but a whore, don’t try ‘nd be bashful now.”

“What a slut. Look how wet you are for me. Gettin’ off on the thought of me fuckin’ you, bitch?”

It’s enough to give you whiplash

Still, you can’t complain that it’s boring

And it’s not like you don’t get your own enjoyment out of it

Whether or not he lingers after he fucks you depends on nothing in particular

Sometimes he’ll pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling praises in your ear as he caresses your body

Other times he’ll put his boxers back on and rest against the door frame, just staring at you as you clean yourself up

He never leaves without making sure you’re alright, though

No matter how rough he was with you he gently traces over your body, making sure nothing hurt to bad

Then he’s back to his cocky self, trying to pretend he didn’t just treat you like a princess

There’s always marks littering your neck and shoulders

The sight of them is enough to let any tourists know to fuck off

You tried to cover them once with a high collared shirt but it only ended with more hickies and bite marks, this time high enough on your neck that even a turtle neck couldn’t hide them

He’s possessive, always having an arm or hand around you when talking to strangers that come by

He’ll, even around his own brothers he’s like that

He’s always smacking your ass or planting a kiss to your lips, leaving you to yelp in surprise

This man has a breeding kink

That’s just the facts

The thing is, the idea of having a kid makes him gag

He’s not a fan of the little gremlins

But something about you—thighs wrapped around his hips as he cums into you—the fullness of your cunt—the slight bulge of your belly—always gets him going

Maybe it’s the distant idea of raising a half-normal family for once

For now, you stay on birth control

Vincent Sinclair

He’s extremely introverted and self-conscious

You have to be the one to initiate most things

Even then he’s unsure of himself

He’s afraid he’ll scare you somehow

The first time you two are intimate it’s simply soft touches, your lips trailing over his skin as your hands stroke at his dick

It’s not sex

It’s too soft for that

You hated to use the word love-making, but you supposed that’s what it was

After his confidence is built up enough to take control, he catches on fast

He has a niche for precise finger-work, given his work as a sculptor, and has you cumming on his hands more times than you can count

He keeps his mask on 99% of the time

You don’t force him to do otherwise

It’s his comfort object

As long as he’s happy, you’re happy

Still, there are times where he pulls it off, only to hide himself between your legs

The first time he ate you out, he insisted upon a blanket draped over your bottom half, but he’s past that now, knelt down in front of you, fingers clutched against your thighs as he pushes his tongue further inside of you

You make sure to praise him every time he makes you feel good—wanting him to know it was him getting you off

It definitely helped his self-esteem

He’s still distant when others are around, but you’ve gotten to the point where you can sit in his lap and play with his hair while Bo lounges on the couch

Bo still gives you two playful taunts, but he’s just happy his brother found someone

Though he really needs to invest in some ear-muffs if you keep up with the moaning at god-knows-how-late-at-night

*cough* waxplay *cough*

[cherubfae]

𝔠𝔲𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}

With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman, Thomas Sawyer

tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao

Michael

Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.

Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.

The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.

Jason

Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.

His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.

Brahms

If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!

After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3

Billy and Stu

The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.

Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.

Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.

Art

This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.

He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.

Vincent

He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.

Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.

His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?

Bo

Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.

He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.

Lester

Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.

Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.

Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.

Sal Fisher

Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.

Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.

Thomas

It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.

Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.

You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)

Patrick

He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.

A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.

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