#Slasher fan fic

[slasher-fxcker]

Slashers S/O falling asleep on them

A/N: Just a quick little drabble of me fantasizing about our favourite slashers. I am still working through requests so please don't think I am ignoring you guys! They are coming :)

Billy Loomis

· Billy isn’t sure how to react at first, if you are around people sorry but he’s not going to tarnish his reputation with these soft moments. But if you're alone he will be conflicted.

· He’s not used to soft moments and he likes to be in control of any affection. He tries to keep it light like hand holding or sexual to try and keep you at a distance. So, this makes him sort of short circuit.

· Once he decides to allow it, it takes him a while but he does eventually relax into the embrace. He hates to admit that it is comforting, you make him feel secure and that worries him.

· He probably won’t sit for too long and may move eventually, he won’t disturb you but will leave you on the couch to rest.

Bo Sinclair

· Bo will never ever admit to this but he loves your soft affection, even if it’s only when you're asleep that he embraces it. He will pull you closer to him and wrap his arm around you. It’s the time he will let his guard down and let himself truly feel.

· If his brothers walk in he’s going to act like it’s a hassle, but even they know he doesn’t really mean it. Will also probably whine at you about it later.

· Bo loves you but he won’t admit that yet, even if you question it sometimes just know that you don’t get to see the way he looks at you like you're his world, or how your cute sleepy expression grips his heart. It’s these times where he thinks maybe he should be nicer to you, it’s now when he realises that he needs you even if he’s not ready to admit that.

Jason Voorhees

· Jason will not move a muscle if you fall asleep on him, you may as well be leaning on a comfier version of a statue. He wouldn’t do anything to wake you up.

· Barely breathes in fear or disturbing you. This man adores you and if you need sleep you're going to get it.

· If there are any trespassers he is going to be even more brutal than usual, how dare they disturb this intimate moment with his loved one. He lays you down as gently as he can, lucky you're a heavy sleeper.

· Jason will make quick work of the trespassers so he can get back to you, sure you may wake up with some leftover blood on you but it’s all worth it in the end to be in Jason’s arms.

Jesse Cromeans

· Jesse gets a small smirk on his face when he realises you’ve fallen asleep in his lap while he’s completing some paperwork. He will hold you while he works, occasionally stroking your hair and placing his chin on your head.

· You seem so small buried into his chest, it reminds Jesse how delicate you are and how protective he is of you to keep you here with him.

· Jesse is a busy man so its highly likely that he will end up having some sort of work that pulls him away from this intimate moment. He will carry you with ease to your bed and cover you in blankets to keep you warm until he can return.

· Won’t leave without placing the gentlest of kisses to your forehead and watching you snuggle in.

Lester Sinclair

· Lester is a busy man, he loves your affections but try to catch him when it won’t interfere with his day or piss Bo off. He will put your affections first and that can often get him in trouble with his brother.

· This man is the cutest cuddle bug, he will hold you for as long as you want. Will wrap you up in his arms and put a movie on, he is definitely the most chill out of the slashers when it comes to this kind of affection.

· Expect him to occasionally cover your face in soft kisses, the small smile it puts on your face gives him the cheesiest grin. Part of him wants you to hurry up and wake up so he can give you more affection, but don’t worry he wouldn’t dream of waking you.

· Lester cherishes you and when you wake up still in his arms expect to give him all of your attention for a while.

Michael Myers

· Do you like sleeping on the floor? Because that’s where you will end up if you fall asleep on Michael when he’s not in a very good mood. He’s an asshole. He does love you, but you don’t get to be affectionate without his approval when he’s in this kind of mood.

· If you catch him on a good day he will simply let you rest against him, most likely sitting still and watching you sleep.

· He thinks you're naïve to trust him when you're in such a vulnerable state, how he could hurt you at any moment. He likes to pretend that he could but you both know he would never do anything to hurt you. Not now that he had let you in.

· If you wake up to his head resting against yours as you both find comfort in the slight affection he will jump up and storm off as soon as he notices you're awake. Don’t bring it up unless you want him to pout for a while or threateningly glare at you from across the room. He will pretend it never happened.

Stu Macher

· Stu had always been a night owl, and it didn’t help he spent a lot of his nights out with Billy.

· You would wait up for him a lot at his place, flicking through the channels of the tv and waiting for that familiar click of the front door. He would instantly come and join you, arms open and waiting. He always missed touching and holding you.

· Would probably ramble on and not realise you were sleeping until he notices you aren’t answering him anymore. The cheesy smile this boy gets when he realises you're asleep.

· He will probably just watch you for a while, moving the hair out of your face.

· Stu is the type of guy to draw on people’s faces while they sleep, but with you he will just gently trace your features or draw small love hearts with his finger, laughing quietly to himself as your nose crinkles at the feeling.

· He wouldn’t move you, he loves holding you in his arms, keeping you close to him. Will for sure tease you about it later though.

Thomas Hewitt

· Thomas just melts when he feels your head rest against him. He knows how tiring it can be working in the heat, so he will let you rest for as long as you need to.

· He will blush if anyone else sees the two of you, but he’s still not moving.

· Thomas could hold you like this forever, but he worries that the couch isn’t the comfiest place to spend the night so he will carry you upstairs to your room, this man just wants what is best for you. He tries his best to be as gentle as possible when he lays you down, not wanting to wake you.

· He stands up to leave but notices you clinging to his shirt, the crinkle in your brow showing you're clearly not happy with the loss of contact. He lets out a husky huff before climbing into bed next to you, he melts under your touch and the thought that even in your sleep you need his touch.

Vincent Sinclair

· He stills immediately when he feels the contact. Vincent loves you so much but he’s not sure he will ever get used to the physical affections.

· When he realises you’ve fallen asleep on him his heart swells. You better believe this boy will not move an inch, your comfort is his entire priority. He will be dead still until you wake up, would not dream of disturbing you.

· Will definitely watch you sleep, he feels like he needs to commit every single line of your face to memory. Not only will he want to sketch you later on but the fear of you leaving still weighs heavily on him and he needs to make sure he would remember every detail of you.

· It’s like you can feel him staring when you shuffle closer to him and mumble his name, he instantly melts. He pulls you closer, reassuring you that he’s still there. He’s not going anywhere, he will always be there.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader SMUT • headcanons, how Art fucks, what he gets off to, etc

big content warning! contains some stuff that may gross you out; read at your own risk: menstruation kink, piss kink, oral sex, anal sex, object insertion, blood kink, various weapons mentioned, bondage, human hair and bones, butts and what comes out of butts, public sex, cockwarming, mostly dom!Art and sub!reader

🔪 Remember the work desk with all of Art’s weapons and tools on it? He knows you want him to fuck you, but he’s got shit to do (meaning weapons to build) so he lets you sit under the desk, cockwarming him while he works. You’re on the ground between his knees, patiently holding him in your mouth. When he finishes constructing his latest instrument of torture/slaughter, Art pats his palm against his thigh, wordlessly telling you to climb up into his lap and ride him.🩸

🔪 Art enjoys blood and guts, so it goes without saying that during your period, he’s particularly eager to fuck you. He can detect the slight change in your scent, usually aware you’ve begun to bleed even before you know. He plays with your pussy like it’s a new, special toy when you’re bleeding, spreading your lips and tracing his name on your inner thighs in red. Seeing/touching/tasting blood that comes from you is special to Art. It’s the only time he gets to play in blood without it being the result of him hurting someone, so that makes the experience unique for him. He saves your used pads for ‘alone time,’ using them later as a ‘sleeve,’ to masturbate with.🩸

🔪 Art sometimes fucks you with unconventional objects, like the handle of one of his weapons (knife, axe) or the neck of a bottle. If you’ve displeased him but he still wants to fuck you, he might deny you his cock and instead use something else, like the handle of one of his knives or the barrel of an (empty!) gun, to make you come instead of his cock, as a degrading ‘punishment.’🩸

🔪 Art loves bondage. He knows what he’s doing when it comes to tying knots, as evidenced by the multiple victims you’ve watched him restrain. He enjoys the power dynamic of being in absolute control of another person. When that crosses over into sex, you both get off on him tying you up and doing whatever the fuck he wants with your body.🩸

🔪 Art’s methods can border on sadistic at times (I mean how could they not??) but because he wants to keep you around to play with for the long haul, he never pushes you beyond the limits of safety, no matter how many new ways he comes up with to plug every hole in your body. If we know anything about Art, it’s that he’s perceptive. He studies the way your body responds to different forms of stimulation and mentally catalogs the information for later. All of his skill in crafting tools of torture means he’s able to create customized ‘toys,’ to fuck you with. But the thing is, they’re never normal, or sweet; they always contain something fucked-up and sick. Art once surprised you with a whip he’d put together for you. Its strands were soft and felt so good gliding over your clit. You came so hard when Art whipped your pussy till it was puffy and leaking. It would have been a wonderful gift, if you hadn’t realized later, upon closer inspection, that the strands now wet with your cum were in fact strands of human hair. And the custom dildo Art made for you, the one that was so smooth and colored beige/white? You later found out Art had chiseled and smoothed down a human bone to make it for you. The information almost made you sick on the spot. Art found your horrified reaction hilarious, of course, and it didn’t stop him from laying you down and fucking you with it all the same…🩸

🔪 ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL ANAL …

He loves to fuck you in the ass. Art’s a nasty little motherfucker when it comes to the stuff that comes out of butts, and I’m not gonna elaborate here, but you can use your imagination to follow where I’m going with this…🩸

🔪 Art has zero inhibitions: he kills anyone, anywhere. Imagine that relating to sex; of course he’s going to fuck you wherever he wants, including places where you might get caught. Sex in public/risky spaces feels natural to Art, because he literally does not give a single fuck. Remember the first time you ever saw him? When you stumbled out the back door of that sleazy little bar in your home town, so drunk off your ass you thought you were leaving through the front? Art was in the alleyway behind the bar, black garbage bag hoisted over his shoulder, not even looking for anyone to fuck up but when he saw you, he knew he’d found a victim for the night. He’d planned to stalk you home and do unspeakable things to you-but as you took the lead and approached him, there in the alleyway, he was caught off guard, his whole plan upended the moment you slid your arms around his waist, stood up on your tiptoes, and placed a soft, sloppy kiss on his cheek. He was awestruck, and even if he could speak, Art would still have been at a loss for words. You walked him backward a few steps, lining him up against a dumpster in the alleyway. You began fondling him through his costume, grinning when you realized his body had already begun to respond. One thing led to another, and within minutes, Art had you bent over that dumpster, with a fresh hole torn in the front of his costume where your bodies were joined…🩸

🔪 No one would associate The Miles County Clown with tenderness, but if they knew Art, they would see a softer side of him only you do. He’s still fucking deranged, don’t get me wrong. But Art also has moments of vulnerability, when there’s nothing he wants more than to hold you. Sitting in Art’s lap, he wraps his arms around you and stays still, so still, just enjoying the soft thump of your heartbeat against his, and the low hum of your breath on his chest. Your nearness calms the monster inside Art so well that sometimes, he forgets he is the monster itself…🩸

🔪 Another benefit of having you in his lap? Art realized he could use his strength to make you stay in his lap no matter how badly you had to get up and take a piss, forcing you to wet yourself all over him. You felt him gradually getting hard under you as you began to wriggle on his lap. Art could see your discomfort, and when you told him you needed to get up and take a piss, he refused to release you. You’d expect him to be smiling at you at a time like this, silently mocking you; but the look in his eyes was deathly serious, pitch black and full of a demented lust that would have had you locked you in place even if his arms hadn’t. Blushing into his shoulder, you accepted the fact that Art wasn’t letting go of you any time soon, and that he really was into this. He wanted this to happen. You allowed your bladder to empty, a soft trickle saturating your panties, followed by a steady stream of hot piss that spread over Art’s lap. His clothes were soaked through below the waist, your piss running down between his thighs and dampening the couch cushion beneath you. Art was rock hard by this point, his wet cock throbbing against your pussy. He lifted you off his lap just enough to reach between your bodies and position his tip against your entrance, then used your piss as a lube to slide inside you…🩸

[bosinclairsgff]

Slashers reacting to self harm scars

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM

Warning: talk of self harm, Otis’s is kinda dark, kidnap

Includes: Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Bo Sinclair, The Grabber, Amanda Young

Baby would be laying down with you in bed one night. She loves cuddling you and covering you in kisses. The kisses would start at your neck and go the way down to your hands. That’s when she feels scabbed over cuts on your arm. Immediately she sits up and grabs your arm. “Sugar, what happened?? Are ya okay? Did someone hurt ya?” She asks frantically. You would have to explain to her what happened. She’s heartbroken at first, not understanding why you would do that to yourself. Baby loves you so much and wants you to see how amazing you are. “Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to do that. It’s okay ya know I’ll take care ya.” She says sympathetically, pulling you into a tight hug. “Please don’t do that again sugar, come to me, I’ll help you.” Baby says. You nod in response, maybe she could help you.

Otis wanted to take a shower with you, which you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity for getting him clean. The only bad thing was you had just relapsed recently. You did not want him to see that right now, not knowing how he’d react. Otis went ahead of you and started the shower, getting in first. You slowly followed behind him. “What the fuck is taking ya so god damn long girl, I don’t have all fucking day.” He shouts. You pick the pace up, undressing and stepping into the shower with him. Immediately his eyes fall to your arms and thighs. “What the fuck happened to ya?” He says reaching out to touch your arm. You wince and pull back. “I asked what the fuck happened.” He states in a darker tone. Taking to long for his liking he grabs you by the neck and pushes you against the wall. “You think it’s okay to harm yourself like that mama?” Otis questions again. You shake your head, struggling to breathe. “You ever pull some shit like this again, and I’ll show you real mother fucking pain bitch.” He growls into your ear.

For the past few days you’ve been walking around Ambrose in a long sleeve shirt, keeping it on day and night. Bo starts to notice after the first day. How you avoid him touching one of your arms. Even at night when you usually sleep in one of his oversized shirts, you’ve stuck to a tight long sleeve. So, he confronts you one night. “Darlin, why are you wearin that damn long sleeve shirt in the middle of a Louisiana summer?” Bo questions while tilting his head to the side. It catches you off guard you thought he hadn’t noticed. “Oh I’m not sure. I didn’t even realize I had been wearing a long sleeve shirt. It does keep the sun off me though so that’s good I suppose.” You try to laugh it off. He looks down and chuckles, before grabbing you roughly and the wrist. You yelp in response. Before you can protest he harshly shoves your sleeve up your arm, making you wince in slight pain. His eyes widen at the sight. “Baby, why would you do that? I never want to see this shit again. You understan me?” He barks out like an order, gripping your wrist tighter. “Okay! I promise I won’t do it again, please let go.” Satisfied, he lets go.

It was the third day you had been taken and kept in this hell like basement. You knew it was The Grabber who had taken you. Sometimes when you woke up, you found him sitting near the mattress, just watching you sleep. It scared you but also brought almost a sick comfort. This time he came downstairs he had a small cardboard box in his hands. “I brought you a….new shirt and new underwear. So I can wash your pants.” He says smiling. You say nothing in response, just nodding. He sat down the box in front of you, watching, waiting for you to make a move to look into the box. Scared, you move forward and taking the shirt and underwear out of the box. “Where can I change?” You say, just above a whisper. The man chuckles darkly. “You’ll change right here dove.” His dark smile growing larger. Not wanting to make him mad you take your shirt off, revealing your arms to him. His eyes stay emotionless but intrigued. “Oh my little dove, why do such a thing? Your skin is so beautiful.” He says in almost a kind, caring voice. “I don’t know, it helps me calm down. The world can be so much to handle.” You respond putting the shirt over your head. You couldn’t hide your arms as it was a short sleeve shirt. It was however just oversized enough to hide your most precious parts from his eyes as you changed underwear. Sliding the cardboard box back over to his feet with the dirty clothes you look up at him. He squats down, now eye to eye with you. “What will you do now to handle the world?” He laughs darkly, getting up and leaving you alone in the dark basement.

[xo-myloves]

hiiiii! I wanna request some Slash smut ‘cause he’s so fine it’s not even funny 🤤 I was thinking maybe slash is feeling rlly dominant and he says shit like ‘you want my babies inside you?’ And like ‘I’m gonna stuff u so full your gonna have my child’ but not actually get reader pregnant so like he says it but isn’t being literal

only if ur comfortable ofc! Thank youuu

yup ofc!

(Also I need his lips on mine)

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

The hotel room was dark, the only light coming from the city glow outside. The sheets were already a mess beneath you, your skin damp with sweat, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

And Slash—fuck.

He was above you, pressing you into the mattress, his curls falling around his face, his bare chest slick and hot against yours. His fingers were tight around your wrists, pinning them above your head, making sure you stayed there.

“You like this, huh?” His voice was low, rough with need. “Letting me take you like this? Letting me fucking ruin you?”

You whimpered, arching up against him, but he pressed you back down with his weight. His mouth found your neck, biting just hard enough to make you cry out.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his tongue tracing the mark he’d just left. “You like being mine?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “God, yes.”

His grip on your wrists tightened. “That’s right. Mine.”

His free hand slid between your thighs, fingers teasing, making you shudder beneath him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. “So warm. So wet.” He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “You want me to fill you up, huh?”

You moaned at his words, your hips bucking up against him.

“Yeah?” He smirked, teasing himself against you, making you need it. “You want my babies inside you? Want me to fuck you so good you can’t even think straight?”

You whined, head tilting back against the pillows. “Please.”

“Please what?” His voice was taunting, dripping with amusement. He pushed in just an inch, making your breath stutter.

“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

That snapped something in him.

He slammed into you, making you cry out as he buried himself deep, his hands gripping your thighs so hard you knew there’d be bruises.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That’s my good girl.”

He didn’t hold back. Every thrust was deep, hard, making the bed creak beneath you. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you in place, making sure you took it.

“I’m gonna stuff you so full, baby,” he groaned, voice ragged. “Gonna make sure you feel me for days.”

You gasped, clinging to him, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Say it,” he ordered, his breath hot against your ear. “Say you want it.”

“I—I want it,” you choked out. “I want you to fill me up, Daddy.”

He let out a low, animalistic growl, his rhythm faltering as he got closer.

“That’s right, baby,” he panted. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

And with one last, deep thrust, he gave you exactly what you begged for.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Two Boys Are Better Than One. A Poly!Ghostface very NSFW long fic, only available on Ao3.

[makncheese12]

IM SORRY ANON I LOST YOUR REQUEST TRYING TO MAKE IT😭 but here a request for Stu macher with a bad bitch who will smack a bitch and has anger issues (no ghost face, yet?)

(So cute for him🫶🏻)

Masterlist

Warning: I don’t know how to write about a bad bitch😀, bad writing?

(Gif is not mine)

Stu Macher x badbitch!fem!Reader

oh yes, the black cat to his pitbull/golden retriever

Absolutely in love with you first even if you clearly want him away from you, man won’t stop pursuing until he gets to you

Knows he’s winning you over when you smile and roll your eyes at him

man makes it his mission to see you happy, even when you hit him for being stupid or saying something stupid

of course you’d never hit him seriously, he knows that and laughs or fakes looking hurt everytime

laughs at every snarky comment you say to people and repeats your words

Man knows he has a bad bitch, he’ll see some guy staring and he’ll stick his tongue out and laugh to himself

Loves, loves, loves kissing you.

Don’t like being kissed in public? Alright, he’ll kiss your cheek any chance he can get let it be random, dropping you off to class, or when your upset, he’ll do it.

you never get into actual fights, you just ignore him whenever he’s being extra annoying

man gets so whiny when that happens because he wants your attention and doesn’t like it when you ignore him

will do everything in his power to get a reaction from you let it be a glare, a chest slap. hell, he’ll take a cuss out. As long as he gets a reaction

he’s not the jealous type, but he knows you are (maybe)

there was a random girl in the hall who was obviously flirting with Stu but he didn’t seem to really care nor notice but you did

if looks could kill, her head would be brutally beat into the ground as you stand right behind her

“baby!” He call out as he moves past her and opens his arms to you

he’d pick you up and squeeze you as you flick the girl off, maybe next time you get to yank her by that stupid blonde pony tail

loves when you’re anywhere near him, he just thrives off holding you by your waist

he’s constantly giving you attention and craves the attention from you which you happily give

constantly glaring at Billy waiting for the moment he says something that gives you an opening to punch him square in the nose

and boy does he do it a lot, you got one hit in once and that was the first time you heard him

he had a black eye for a week or two, Stu makes sure to always keep an arm on you just in case you decide it’s time again

Always making a kissy face at you, which you just pinch his lips and he gets pouty

Now you have to give him a kiss, doesn’t matter if you roll your eyes first just do it

loves when you where his clothes, makes him feel special

of course he has to get something too, so you give him your bracelets, necklace, ect.

Never loses anything you give him, he makes sure of it. And takes extra care of it because he knows you’ll be upset if he doesn’t or loses it

Plus, he loves the little things you give him

You can be hesitant at first to give it to him but once you see that he’s always wearing it or doesn’t lose it, you can give him more

cuddles, cuddles, cuddles

Loves cuddles, especially when he gets to lay on your chest and you rub his back, neck and head

That or he’ll lay his head in your lap when your with friends, at a party, or just because he can

Loves when you hold his arm/hand, makes him feel like a gentleman

You only know the soft side of Stu where he’s not as goofy and more so serious

He rants about a lot of things when you two are alone and he feels safe, and you’d gladly listen

He would of course listen to you rant as well, adding his own commentary

“*gasp* no! She didn’t!” “And then what happened?” “Did you hit her?”

Encourages you when you get into fights cause he thinks it’s both funny and hot

He’ll see you across the school yard on top of some random chick and he’s laughing his ass off with the biggest smile

“Look at her go!” “Bet your girlfriend can’t do that!”

Over all loves, trust and supports you through everything and would never change anything about you

Even if you hit him constantly but who knows, he most likely likes it🫶🏻

[redlighttokyo]

Listen, I dunno if it’s like gaydar but as a bottom I recognize that our stinky wall boi is the bottomest bottom to ever bottom. Can we all agree on that???

[mayhem-things]

Euronymous x reader (Rory Culkin)

Euro has an abusive entitled girlfriend and the reader opens his eyes, breaks up with her over the phone and then makes out with the reader

tw: mentioning of abusive behavior, mentioning of smut

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

As Øystein walked away from the heated argument with his girlfriend, his mind was clouded with frustration and confusion. He needed someone to talk to, someone who could provide solace in this chaotic moment. That's when he noticed the familiar face of Y/N, someone who had always shown kindness and understanding over many years of their friendship. She approached him with a concerned expression, sensing his troubled state.

"Øystein, are you okay?"

she asked softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm as she knew how depressive he has become since dating his girlfriend. He looked into her eyes, the intensity of the recent argument still lingering within him.

"No, I'm not okay," he confessed, his voice filled with vulnerability as he rehearsed the past hours of their argument which ended in her hitting him and him leaving in addition.

"I thought I knew her, but tonight... tonight, something changed. I saw a side of her I never knew existed."

The reader listened attentively, offering a sympathetic ear. As Øystein poured out his heart, the weight of the realization slowly lifted from his muscular strong shoulders. Y/N's presence and understanding provided the comfort he desperately needed. 

With each passing word, Øystein's eyes were opened to his girlfriend's true nature, the entitlement and manipulation that had been hiding beneath the surface until she even raised her hand to punish him. It became clear that their relationship had become more than just toxic, suffocating his creative spirit and poisoning his happiness. In a moment of clarity, Øystein made a difficult decision. He reached for his phone, dialing his girlfriend's number, his voice steady and resolute as he ended their relationship. From the speaker her voice aches in manipulative words, reaching from crying, to death threats until she threatened to end her life if he dares to leave her. However his eyes met the orbs of Y/N who was by his side, giving him comfort and courage to finally cut the toxicity out of his life. It was time to break free from the chains that bound him. 

As he hung up the phone, a mixture of relief and sadness washed over Øystein. He turned to the reader, gratitude radiating from his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

In that moment, something shifted between them. The air crackled with electricity as their eyes locked. The reader's heart skipped a beat, and without a word, they leaned in closer. The world around them faded into oblivion as their lips finally met, a tender and passionate connection formed from shared understanding and newfound freedom. Euronymous felt great to just give in, letting his instincts win over. The embrace was an awakening, a release from the burdens that had weighed them down. In each other's arms, Øystein and Y/N melted deeper into the kiss, a passionate sexual tension building up between the two. The world around them seemed to fade into the background.

The couch beneath them became a sanctuary, a place where their desires and emotions intermingled. Their lips partened for the matter of seconds as she pushed him gently on the couch, crawling on top of him to share another kiss, even more intense than the first one. Their lips moved in perfect harmony, their breaths syncing as the passion intensified. Øystein's hands gently caressed the reader's cheek, his touch filled with a mix of longing and newfound freedom. The reader's fingers lightly grazed his hair, sending shivers down his spine. Their bodies instinctively gravitated toward each other, aching for a deeper connection. Øystein's hand found its way to her slim waist, pulling them closer to his own hips, while the reader's touch traced a trail along his arm, sending waves of electricity through his body. Lost in the moment, their kisses deepened, fueled by a mixture of desire, relief, and the understanding that they had found solace in each other's presence.

 Moaning and groaning filled the air, only brief seconds to catch air. Time stood still as they explored the uncharted territory of their shared desires, surrendering to the magnetic pull drawing them together. Their bodies molded together on the couch, a dance of vulnerability and raw passion. The room was filled with the heat of their entangled bodies. Øystein's slim pale fingers soon found their way under her shirt which she gladly allowed. In return her attention went to unbuckle the bullet belt of his, his pants tightened as he thought of what was about to happen.

[seasonal-depression-of-punk]

First chapter of my punkintyre slasher fic is up

Writing it took so long that people probably forgot I even had this idea

[slasher-fxcker]

Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time

Part 1

Including: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher & Vincent Sinclair.

Warnings: Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: Okay this is my first post on here so any and all feedback is welcome! Also, there will be a part two, I will be including all the slashers I write for I just got a bit carried away and I thought it was a bit long for one part lol. Second part will include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire and Jesse Cromeans.

Billy Loomis:

· This was meant to be an easy kill for Billy. Some geek that showed up at a party he shouldn’t have been at, Billy had been watching him for most of the night when he saw his target getting ready to leave. He started heading to the closet he hid his Ghostface costume in when someone crashed into him spilling their drink all down the front of his shirt.

· Billy was in two minds about whether he should give them a piece of his mind or ignore their apologies and sneak away anyway. But as he looked up whatever reply he had planned got caught in his throat. When he looked into your pleading eyes he could immediately tell how bad you felt. He didn’t realise he was staring until he noticed you were waiting for a response.

· He regains his composure and brushed off your apologies, telling you not to worry about it. You seemed relieved and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you looked around the room frantically. “Lost something?” he finally asks you, “Am I that obvious?” you laugh before holding your hand out, “I’m Y/N, Randy’s cousin.” Billy seemed to stare at your hand for a second before taking it in his and introducing himself. Maybe just this once he’d let the target go and find something worth enjoying.

Bo Sinclair:

· Getting out of the beat-up truck Bo winced as he felt the pain in his arm of the wound that hadn’t fully healed just yet. Lightly holding the spot and remembering how one of the victims had cut him good with that knife. He sighed and shrugged the thought off before walking towards the dimly lit bar. Sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a beer.

· He soon becomes aware of a man groaning angrily at one of the nearby pool tables, “There aint no way you're winning again without cheatin’” he hears the man grumble. Bo’s fairly accustomed to the usual pool bets but what does surprise him is the feminine laugh he hears in response, he turns around to see you bent over the table lining up your next shot. He feels his throat dry up at the sight of the position you’re in and the teasing smirk that’s on your face.

· “Don’t be a sore loser Jimmy,” you laugh before sinking yet another ball into its socket. Bo can barely take his eyes off you as he leans back taking another sip of his beer. You and the man seem to go back and forth in arguing about the game, and he feels like he could watch you all night. The game is coming to an end with you clearly winning, before he even thinks about it Bo has downed the rest of his beer and is walking towards you. As you’re lining up your final shot Bo slams down a couple of bills on the side of the pool table, you look up at him and he flashed his signature grin at you, “I’ve got winner,” he says as he looks you up and down. You sink your last ball before turning back to him, “You’ve got it handsome,” she smirks. Oh, you were trouble, and Bo couldn’t wait to see how this night turned out.

Jason Voorhees:

· It had been a quiet week for Jason, no campers, no teens, nothing. He had been out collecting wood for the fire when he found a small stone, he liked collecting bits and pieces from around the woods. Small knickknacks to decorate the shabby cabin he called home. The stone had five points and could be seen as almost the shape of a star, what Jason didn’t realise was he had spent far too long invested in the stone to notice someone walking on the trail nearby. The snapping of some sticks broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a figure nearby.

· Jason quickly shoved the stone in his pocket before walking silently to a spot where he could watch the trail without being spotted. He watched you from afar for a while, seeing you look around you as you made your way down the path. The way you watched the nature around you with a small smile on your face made Jason feel a warmth inside him. He followed you all the way to the camp grounds. You seem surprised to find the open space on your trip. You sat down on one of the stone seats before unpacking some lunch for yourself.

· It wasn’t long before you had gotten up and were walking around the small opening. It was then that Jason heard you speak for the first time which caused him to tense in fear. “Hey there little guy.” That was it, you must’ve seen him. He froze as you stepped towards his hiding spot only to stop a few feet in front of where he stood, where he thought he was hidden by the shrubs. But you weren’t looking at him to his relief, he saw the small squirrel perched on a branch that seemed to have your attention. He felt himself relax as he noticed this before trying to silently move further to the other side of the clearing.

· To his surprise the squirrel hadn’t run away, he must’ve smelt the food in your hand as he stood hesitantly sniffing the air. “You hungry?” you asked him rhetorically before holding out a small piece of crust for the squirrel and placing it on the branch near him. Jason watched and couldn’t help but melt at your kindness, he heard the familiar voice in his head but this time the voice was calm, telling him you needed protection, you needed him. But how was he supposed to approach you. A few minutes passed and you turned back to your seat, walking over you noticed something had now been placed where you once sat. You picked up the small stone, noticing it was shaped like a star. You looked around for someone before looking back at the stone, a small smile on your face. It warmed Jason’s heart as he prepared himself to find you more gifts.

Lester Sinclair:

· Lester found himself almost zoning out as he drove down the all too familiar road, the predictability of the same turns and sights that he saw every day seeming to get on his nerves today. Until he noticed a car on the side of the road, he hated his part in this, he tried to just shut himself off from it and think of whoever the poor bastard was that wandered their way as just a stranger, a nobody with no identity. It helped that they were usually rude to him, at least that way he felt less remorse for them. He couldn’t see the person that was hidden under the hood, probably uselessly trying to figure out what was wrong with their car.

· “Looks like you could use a hand.” He didn’t expect the slight squeal from whoever was behind the hood before you walked out, “oh gosh you gave me a fright,” you giggled. Lester was trying to pick his jaw up off the floor and string a sentence together, you definitely weren’t the first young lady to come through these parts but he sure thought you were the prettiest. “Uh, sorry ma’am.” He gulped before wracking his brain for words, “I saw you stuck here and thought you could use a hand.” You sighed before closing the hood, “Unless you happen to have a fanbelt on you, I don’t think so,” He felt the slight dread creep up as he remembered the scenario, he hesitated before spilling his usual script about taking you to see Bo. Of course, you agreed, having no other option and climbing into his truck.

· Not long into the drive you spoke, “I’m Y/N by the way,” he nodded before realising you were waiting for a response, “Oh, I’m Lester,” he responded. “Lester,” you repeated with a smile, he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach when you repeated his name. “Well thank you very much Lester, I definitely owe you one for driving me all this way.” The more you spoke the worse he was starting to feel, you seemed kind, you were nice to him which was a welcome change, you laughed along with him instead of at him, you didn’t deserve the fate that you were walking into. As you neared Ambrose he realised he couldn’t let you die, he didn’t know how yet but he would do everything he could to keep Bo from hurting you. He knew life was going to be anything but predictable with you around

Stu Macher:

· Stu groans when the bell rings, his least favourite subject and it was the first lesson of the day. “You coming Stu?” He looks at Randy as he seems to think it over, “Nah, we’ve got Evans, I don’t need another detention from that douche.” Randy just rolls his eyes as Stu starts walking in the opposite direction, he hears Randy grumble some smart-ass comment to himself as he walks away.

· Stu was about to turn towards the entrance when he heard you curse to yourself, he glanced at you before turning the corner. “Woah,” he stopped in his tracks before backing up back into the hallway and looking you over again. You must be new, he definitely would’ve remembered you if he had seen you before. You're too engrossed in the paper in your hands to notice someone coming up to you and leaning against the lockers. He puts on his cheesiest grin before getting your attention “Hey there,” you almost jump out of your skin as you drop your books.

· “Oh man I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stu apologises as he crouches down and begins to pick up your things, you join him in picking up your books, “No don’t be, I should’ve been paying more attention,” you give him a soft smile before standing back up as he passes you some of your belongings, “You must be new, haven’t seen you around here,” you just nod before continuing, “actually, i’m having some trouble finding my class,” he looks over the schedule you had been engrossed in. “Oh that’s actually where I’m headed, I can take you if you’d like,” he couldn’t help but smile at the way you beamed up at him as you agreed.

· The walk was filled with Stu making you laugh, as you neared the class he seemed to slow down and began talking to you again. “You know, I’d be happy to show you to your other classes if you need help finding them after this?” you agreed and he walked into the class with you. A big smile on his face even after being reprimanded by your teacher. “I thought you weren’t coming,” Randy whispers to him, “Yeah something changed my mind,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this class was worth showing up to.

Vincent Sinclair:

· Vincent had been in the museum, positioning his newest artwork. He stared at it with a slight tilt of his head, questioning every stroke, every pose and every colour. He couldn’t help it, he knew he was good at what he did but insecurity still nagged at every decision he made. He was in his own world when the creak of the front door broke him out of his stupor. Bo had told him a small group of victims would be heading down to the museum while he worked on ‘finding’ a fan belt for them. Vincent was quick to move to his usual hiding spots to watch them.

· Vincent hated how loud this group was, joking and making fun of his art. “You have to be pretty sick to make any of this.” One of the guys spoke up, Vincent immediately started thinking of how he would hurt this man. It wasn’t until a softer voice spoke up that he noticed the girl trailing at the back of the group, “Come on guys, don’t be so rude. Someone must have put a lot of effort into these.” It was then that Vincent could finally make out your form, you seemed quiet even when speaking up for him, defending his work. Vincent wished he could get a better look at you. The man scoffed, “Okay art freak.” Vincent saw the way you practically flinched at the insult before turning away from the group to go and look at some other pieces.

· Vincent felt angry, the man would definitely suffer. He made his way closer to where you were, staying hidden as he watched you from afar. He could tell the insult had hurt you and this only made him angrier. You seemed to pause as you squinted closer to the art work on the wall, brushing some dust off the framing. “Vincent,” you read the signature to yourself with a small smile on your face, Vincent stilled when he heard you. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about hearing you say his name struck a chord in him. He was more than intrigued by you, he felt drawn to you in a way he had never felt before. He wasn’t sure what this meant but whatever it was he knew Bo wouldn’t like it.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

PART TWO

@arts-bloody-gloves

[spookychick78]

✨Masterlist✨

18+ goes for pretty much everything, so you’ve been disclaimed there ya go🖤🔪

Michael Myers

Fics:

Final Girl

One Shots:

Michael & The Vampire

The One In The Parking Garage

The One In The Parking Garage PT. 2

Michael & The Vampire PT. 2

Wanna Be Yours (Peepaw X GN!Reader)

Headcanons:

Halloween Night W/ The Slashers

Bo Sinclair

One Shots:

You Think You Can Leave Me?

Ghostface

One Shots:

Unknown Caller

Headcanons:

Halloween Night W/ The Slashers

Vincent Sinclair

Coming Soon 

Thomas Hewitt

Fics:

End Of The Line

Jason Voorhees

Headcanons: 

Halloween Night W/ The Slashers

Freddy Krueger

Headcanons:

Halloween Night W/ The Slashers

Chucky (Charles Lee Ray)

One shots: 

Request #1

[whatshouldmewrite]

"When life gives you lemons, write smut."

You can call me Petty.

18+ blog. MDNI for the love of GOD, i don't want to have to deal with you being naive and all that, be wiser than that and do not interact with adult content and adults who write NSFW stuff and such. Ugh. Please. Have some common sense. Once upon a time, I was a minor reading stuff I was too young to read too, but I didn't brag about it. and i'm afraid this isn't victim blaming, ok? again, in my book it's just common sense.

i'm italian, trans, bi, and polyam.

Idc about pronouns, whatever works in your head.

call me petty, lol, but if you write a story using the tag "poly" (instead of polyam) you're most likely ignorant on the matter and base your knowledge on what you've read on the internet (esp r/eddit) and/or romance/fics and stuff like that. this topic is too personal and important to me (like being italian, bi and trans), so i won't ever like something if i feel like the person behind it doesn't care about the impact of what they write has on other people. i won't insult them and stuff, i'll just avoid interacting with it, if i can. in general, it's not very likely that i like stories with these tags, bc experience has taught me that i'm gonna regret it, lmao. there're very few fics and books that have treated these topics in a way that satisfies me and, to this day, i still think abt them regularly; if not every day, almost every other day. i mean it.

i'm here to write smut where i imagine big men throwing me around and caring about me, lmao. i'm not here to write a autobiography or state under every post that violence is bad and that you have to treat people with love and respect. this is just fiction. do not apply the things you read/watch to real life events and people. fantasy is private, people's safety is reality and a must. do not mistreat real people and their boundaries irl. use your pretty brain and read the room, thx <3 get educated on the stuff you read/watch and form your own informed opinion. do not live by what other people have said just bc it's easier on your conscience.

be nice and i'll be nice. most importantly, use your common sense—which, as we know, is not very common.

Do not steal, copy, share, modify in any way, repost or add your writing to my writing. thanks.

English is not my first language, so, be aware of that. none of these stories will be beta-read and i'll not let myself be shamed by that. i need one thing, at least one thing, that doesn't need anyone else's approval to exist. i'm sure a lot of you can relate. <3

pliz interact with a like if you enjoy what i write, i promise i don't bite. i just need validation bc i feel very alone and miserable, lmao.

[gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me]

Hello this is my fandoms list of what i write for and what i write

please read if your going to request a lot of it is important either post your request in the notes/comments or ask me anything box in bio I only do chrXrdr or chrXchr or ocXoc

Newsies (broadway and 1992)

Ride The Cyclone

Grey Anatomy (i'm only on season 3)

Any Slasher that i know i'll tell you if i know them or not

Docter who (10th, 11th and 15th and maybe some companions aswell)

Torchwood

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Tuck Everlasting broadway (this musical needs a bigger fanbase)

maybe falsettos i'm not to big in the fandom but i know of it

i can do actor x reader but doesn't mean it guaranteed kinda weirds me out even if i used to red em

rocky horror picture show

I WILL NOT DO ANIME (ofc watch it i just don't like writing it)

i can do oc if you dm their backstory, their names and what the look like

Two Broke Girls love the show to bits

Ghostbusters mainly the newer ones i love the older ones i just find it easier to write the newer ones (I FINALLY WATCHED FROZEN EMPIRE YIPPIE. be free to request asmuch froze empire stuff i mainly really like anything todo with lars pinfield lol)

i can do modern au's and afterlife au like the limbo type place

i can do fluff and angst

NO R@PE, NO-CON OR SMUT, i will do angst just not severe abuse or violence unless the character has an abusive background i can mention abuse but just cause i can doesn't mean i will

dark romance, slow burn and enemies to lovers

TLOU (i love the game and want to watch the show so bad)

Harry potter/fantastic Beasts

good omens (i love the show but i just don't know how to write for it for some reason)

Mary poppins (only the second movie tho)

greatest showman maybe idk

Descendants (3&4)

disney/pixar movies that i havn't mentioned

NO MARVEL OR DC (the fandoms allright i just don't like writing for it i like the movies tho)

i can also do fantasty i will love for you to request fantasty oc's if you want

fantasy romance would kill for it

How To Train Your Dragon 2 & 3 maybe 1 if it's a flashback

[grasslandgirl]

slasherverse.

a year ago today i posted the first installment in slasherverse, the original slasherfic, if i could make a deal with god (i’d get him to swap our places) on ao3, after having stayed up til 4am a few nights previous in a fit of pique writing it. it was, and is, one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, and one of the pieces I’m proudest of. in honor of the one year anniversary (slasherversary, if you will) I’ve collected some collages I made about slasher, as well as links to the playlist I made and all the fics in the ongoing series !! (I’ve also got another fic in the series I’m currently working on- I wanted to finish it by today’s slasherversary, but alas the muse was uncooperative, so keep your eyes peeled for that hopefully soon!!) hugs and kisses to everyone who’s read and commented on and been so lovely and enthusiastic about this insane wonderful project I’ve undertaken over the course of the last year, and I hope you’ll all continue to stay tuned for whatever comes next <3

if i could make a deal with god (i’d get him to swap our places) -- first slasher fic. rated M for violence, gore, and character death. 8k. what happens when the bad kids find themselves in the events of a campground slasher film? or more specifically, what happens after? 

we both matter, don’t we? -- four funerals. 11k. fig and gorgug attend their friends’ funerals and try to grapple with their own survival in the aftermath 

windows down, scream along -- gorgug pov. 4k. fig and gorgug go for a drive when they can’t sleep

anti curse -- one year later. 4k fig and gorgug go back to camp on the anniversary of the massacre

slasherverse playlist 

jack @kingfisherkink​ ‘s art (SPOILERS)

jamie @gilears​ ‘s handmade collages

asher @myclericalromance​ ‘s aelwyn pov drabble (😵‍💫)

[emmaspolaroid]

you see i have to write novels. so i can afford to buy anime merch and also have kids or whatever