#Slashers x Reader Blurbs

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers x Reader || Blurbs

Topic: How they undress you 😅 What the experience of being undressed by them is like XD

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, Chucky Lee Ray, Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, and Michael Myers.

Warnings: Some smutty themes.

~

Bubba Sawyer: His hands are sweaty and he doesn't seem to understand (or care) how your limbs work- he's just trynna get this over with as soon as possible. Either he just really wants to see you naked (If y'all are in a mood~), or he wants to get you redressed super quick (If he's helping you cuz you're injured or something) before he gets horny and mortifies himself 😅 He'll be worrying his bottom lip the whole time.

Chucky Lee Ray: Doesn't undress you. This is unnecessary and the redress effort is always too damn inconvenient (Its likely that y'all are in some semi-public place so someone could walk in at any moment). He's a 'pull the pants down to your knees, yank your shirt up over your tits and we're ready to roll' kinda man. Bing bang boom. And honestly- just be glad, because his hands are cold as hell.

Freddy Krueger: Okay so first of all, there is nary a moment throughout this ordeal that he is not verbally teasing you. Making you as flustered as possible. And he draws it out as long as he possibly can, too, because he is an asshole who likes you to be embarrassed and nervous. He thrives on it, maybe he feeds off it??- and also he's just a major tease in general, so yeah. Even if this is not a precursor to, you know, he'll still be this way 😂😂😂 Goodluck.

Jason Voorhees: He's very careful and deliberate manhandling you, like a doll he really loves. He'll raise your arms up above your head himself before slipping your top off, he'll stand you up when its time to rid you of your bottoms; he's very methodical and, depending on the mood~ it may be pretty quick or relatively slow.

Michael Myers: Rough!! Make sure that you don't stiffen up or he'll dislocate your shoulder!! He just comes up to you and schwoop go the pants, and yank goes the shirt, and you dunno where they go they get lost behind a dresser or something. Michael doesn't care. Michael wants to get this part done with. He's um... efficient? XD

[heartfullofleeches]

[Slasher Reader loses victim Yan in the woods]

Slasher Reader: Damn it...You always make me do this.... [Lifts up their mask slightly] Put your head on my shoulder~

[Nearby] "Hold me in your arms~... Shit"

[Slasher Reader, pulls their mask back down]

Victim Yan, leaping from the bushes: Oh fuck, oh fuck-

Slasher Reader: Squeeze me oh-so tight~ Wouldn't what you'd like me to do to you, sweetheart?

Victim Yan: Yes!-wait- No! Fuckfuckfuck - Why do you have to have the voice of an angel?!

[toxicanonymity]

You wake up cold in the middle of the night. You grope around behind you to find the blanket and reclaim some of it from your man. You tug at the blanket, but he's hogging it and you can't get enough to cover yourself. You scoot back against him and grumble that you're cold. He drapes it over you and spoons you. You're too sleepy to notice the fabric is smooth and different, or that his arms are bigger. Everything's bigger. He's warm. You drift off in his arms, wrapped in his robe, and your boyfriend’s body is getting cold on the bedroom floor. 

[4doll]

Dating Stu Macher Headcanons

sfw

❤︎︎ cuddle naps after school

❤︎︎ loves to watch you put on makeup (if you do) and with enough convincing he lets you put some on him. you’re sitting in his lap while you do your makeup routine on his face, after you’re done and he looks in the mirror he’s praises your work and keeps talking about how good he looks with makeup on. eventually letting you do it often

❤︎︎ so many horror movie dates, either to watch movies at home or watch the new horror movie in theaters and talk about it for hours while eating fast food. he’ll call up billy and beg him to come over. the rare times billy does give in, you all theorize and rant about the movie for hours eventually all falling asleep

❤︎︎ matching clothes. idc what you say this man would just beg to match clothes. same with pajamas. you both wear matching pajamas during horror movie date nights.

❤︎︎ also matching halloween costumes. he would go absolutely crazy over matching halloween costumes, looking for hours for perfect ones.

❤︎︎ loves when you would sit in his lap and just watch tv or read. he loves to feel your warmth and touch. so his hands are constantly on you, not in a prevy way but in a comforting way. like holding hands, hands on your waist or stomach, etc. he comforts him to know that you’re there with him.

︎❤︎︎ always eavesdrops in your conversations with your friends in person and on the phone. he loves to hear the gossip, you eventually notice his eavesdropping and just decide to let him in on all the gossip all the time. during when you’re tell him all the gossip his reactions are: *gasps loudly* *mouth drops* “what?!” *makes the most confused face* “you’re kidding?!”

❤︎︎ gets jealous super easy. causing him to mark you with hickeys, gifts he got you (ex: a necklace with his initials) and would always have his hands on you in public. hands on your waist, arm around your shoulder, hand holding, etc etc.

❤︎︎ getting high and then going on dates. first time he asked if you would do it or not you questioned why and his reasoning being it would be funny and fun. and it was. you both were at a park at night laughing at the most unfunniest thing ever. it was a fun experience so you both kept doing it time to time.

❤︎︎ he would show you songs that reminded him of you(which was a lot), so he decided to make a mix tape, and give it to you on your anniversary. so every anniversary just before he makes mixtapes of songs that remind him of you and your favorite songs.

︎❤︎︎ time to time. you, stu and billy get high and order lots of fast food and just talk. mostly about horror movies or gossip, or just laughing together about memories or just laughing at nothing.

nsfw

❤︎︎ getting high and it eventually leading to sex no matter where you both are. stu loves to have high sex with you because it feels so good to him, and every sensation is maxed out and feels euphoric. so he cums fast💀

❤︎︎ praises tf out of you and your body in and out of bed.

❤︎︎ making eye contact with him during sex turns him on a lot weirdly. especially when you’re too fucked out to even form a sentence and you make eye contact with him, the ruined makeup, tears from overstimulation, put it all together. cums on the spot

❤︎︎ whiny when he cums. begging for you and calling out your name in a whiny voice, begging for more.

❤︎︎ making out while fucking no matter what position >>> he loves that shit. he thinks making out is so romantic and doing that while fucking makes him giggly

❤︎︎ while you ride him he praises your body. verbally and physically. groping and leaving hickeys and kisses on your chest, neck, stomach. “God your body is perfect, how did I end up with someone so perfect?” He whispers into your skin while you moan out his name.

❤︎︎ he absolutely loves to do aftercare. whispering even more praises into your ear while he cleans you up, telling you how good you did and how beautiful you looked. he loves seeing your reaction and just loves making you feel good after sex.

taglist: @strawbearyyyyysblog @starboashee @gr4veyardg1rl @hoizerslvrr

a/n: sorry the nsfw headcanons are so sort and the sfw headcanons are longer. very touched starved rn and wanted more sfw, sorry abt that. also having major soft/fluff stu brainrot <3

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !!

Thinkin’ of dry humping Tommy <3 waking up in the middle of the night, sleepy and clad in nothing but a pink slip and a pair of oversized socks. Tommy sound asleep as your little cunny pools with wetness at the wet dream you had. This is a common occurence, so it isn’t all that unusual when you hook your leg over Tommy’s much larger one and place your desperate pussy on him.

It arouses him from his sleep, and he lets out a tiny groan as you begin to desperately grind down.

“Tommy..” you whine out, leaving a wet patch on his thigh. But he doesn’t care about that— no, not at all. Just wraps his big arm around you, presses his leg closer to you, and lets you fuck yourself on him.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[sexilene]

lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!

ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹

you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b. 

he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath. 

you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds. 

when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip. 

watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....

that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.

the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside. 

the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you. 

you nod your head slowly, chest heaving. 

"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle. 

"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared. 

"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly. 

"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him. 

you whine as he brings the knife up to your face. 

"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"

you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy. 

"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl. 

"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying. 

"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt. 

"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy. 

"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal. 

"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy. 

"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him. 

"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels. 

"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall. 

"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood. 

"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table. 

he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder. 

he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in. 

"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face. 

"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly make you cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.

"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy. 

after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips. 

"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.

"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away.  ᥫ᭡

[2-dsimp]

Ghostface Danny!

Ghostface Danny! Who will ring you about your favorite anime and keep you hostage on the phone. He’s the type to interrogate you on everything from characters to the time it was aired. The Otaku wants to pick your brain and also gush about his latest finds should you happen to share interests with him.

Ghostface Danny! Who’s just happy to have a mutual. You can oftentimes find him cramped within your bedroom window awkwardly holding a box of 90s anime films. His knife in the box, stained from having to gut someone. Who he saw a couple hours earlier catcalling you….

Only he should be able to call out for you, and get a response in return. You were his precious caller, and he intended to keep it that way.

[2kiran]

MULTI YANDERE 香菸 ── `` amab reader. suggestive.

sparring with SLASHER!YANDERE . . . he's personally training you in case you need to defend yourself when he somehow can't be there. his foot sweeps your ankles, ending with you on your back and with him in your lap.

his hand secures your wrists, panting through his mask. "fuck..." you grunt from the impact of the fall, but he's more 'worried' about something else. "(name)..." he laughs, "are you hard?" he subtly rocks his hips. "wha– no. it's just–" he grounds himself down on you. "just what? don't tell me fighting's got you all excited."

you shake your head, face warming. "t'awww, it's okay, baby. you can tell me. you like this, don't you?" he grinds against you again, grinning. his tone was teasing, almost like he was scolding you for it. "'s okay. 'm not mad, sweet thing. let me help you, yeah?"

masterlist

[sssigil]

dubcon? mdni

mean!ethan landry who jerks off in front of you. He makes you get on your tummy infront of him, face so close to his cock but no no you can’t touch it just watch him stroke himself up and down. Pink tip oozing pre cum watching as your brows furrow, big eyes all tear eyed trying sooo hard not to touch your achy cunt because he specifically told you “don’t touch yourself or me just watch princess”

The nasty shlick shlick sound coming from his sticky hands stroking his cock even faster whining loudly how good his hand feels. “yea you wish this was you doll face, want your mouth stuffed full hmm?” he hummed out in a whiny yet deep voice “or maybe you want to be stuffed so full of me hmm? wanna feel it in your tummy sweetheart” he fake pouted. other hang coming down to pet your head, he then pulled his face closer to yours kissing your forehead making you whine out louder than him.

he let go of you face and proceeded to spit a fat glob of spit down to his tip, whimpering at the feeling of his spit getting even more messy and spreading it all over himself. “promise i won’t be bratty sir” you said to him (a lie) “i’ll be good will make you feel so good, better than you hand pretty please” whining out the ‘e’ and He laughed, he fucking laughed at your response.

Hips bucking up into his big hand small fucks and please coming from pretty mouth as he felt himself getting closer. “baby gimme your fingers” he commanded you in which you obliged giving him your hand bringing it close to his mouth.

He could feel himself about to burst all over. your eyes staring all wide eye not knowing where to look at, his cock all pretty and pulsing as it gets stroked faster, his eyes which were half lidded staring right at your pretty face or ethan’s mouth which was occupied with your dainty little fingers sucking on them gently whimpering moaning and whining out your name or trying too you kept pressing down on his tongue :( as he was so close to releasing.

“You want me to make a mess of myself you dirty little girl, you going to clean it up!? hmm wanna be a good girl and clean it right up” he giggled out as you instantly shot up fingers leaving his mouth, face right next to his pretty dick. Ethan jerked himself a couple more times before busting his load right onto his tummy with one last moan of your name. he kept stroking himself through it letting it get even more messy, so fucking nasty you loved it.

“Ethannnn what a waste” you whined disappointed when his cum lands no where near your little mouth. “stupid girl what made you think i was being serious, now stop being a brat and let me play with your pussy”

his cock was already kicking for more, he knew you’d be soaked after that so why not tease your little cunt a little more before he finally gets to pound your little cunt stupid, god he can’t wait to burry himself into your messy cunt and see you get all silly and a blubbering mess.

“good fucking girl, move your panties good good” he said spitting a big glob down so it can hit your shiny slippery slit. “gonna breed you so good” fingers pressed right on you little button before stopping, he knows how fussy you get just by simple gestures. “now be a good girl and fuck yourself on my fingers yea? this is all your getting for now” ethan growled out spanking your pussy red. stupid girl.

it’s been a while… lol let’s see how this goes.

[factorydefaultlu]

Thanks to the other Vincent anons I'm stuck horny about fucking him and wondering how grateful he'd be with happy whining and groaning as you rode him. Any chance of a reaction or head cannon for him? Hopefully I'm on time.

This turned into a blurb.. Oops

Vincent laid on the bed, his eyes closed, mask on the bedside table. The world around him faded away as he drifted to sleep. He had been waiting for his beloved to get out of the shower, but exhaustion had other plans.

His eyes shot open as he felt the the bed dip next to him. His lover smiled as they let their towel drop and they swung a leg over his hips to straddle him. They looked like a work of art. It didn't matter how many times Vincent saw them naked, he was in awe everytime. His hands lifted to settled on their waist, he noticed their smirk and wondered what they were planning.

His lover leaned down and pressed their lips to his, bare chests rubbed against one another. Lightning traveled through Vincent's body as he pulled them closer. Wet, and obscene sounds emitted from the couple. Tongues mingled, and drool dripped. Vincent was so lost in them, he barely noticed the way they started rocking their hips against his.

Their bare cunt rubbed his cock through his sweatpants, heat flooded Vincent's stomach and he whimpered. His beloved pulled away from his lips and made quick work at pulling his pants down to his thighs. His cock was half hard and leaking. Vincent signed to them, 'You don't have to'

They just rolled their eyes with a smile and leaned back down to kiss him. The slick of their cunt soaked his cock as they began humping him again. He moaned hoarsly, his arms wrapping around them. His hips started moving in sync with theirs, sticky precum soaked their skin and dripped down his balls.

His lover picked up the pace, their breathing rapidly picking up. They were close, he slid his hands down their back and gripped their ass. His desperate moans became louder as he started to control their pace, hard and fast. Vincent's cock throbbed against their cunt and the tip repeatedly hit their clit. Sweat dripped from the two of them as they got closer and closer.

Soon the tension snapped and both were cumming hard against eachother. Hot ropes of cum shot between their stomachs and his lovers cunt dripped with frothy slick. Neither of them moved, Vincent basked in the afterglow. Feeling his lovers heat and hearing their breathing slow, the throbbing of their cunt against him.

Absolutely beautiful.

[chubbyreaderchan]

You try opening a jar in the Hewitt house for dinner but you can't. Thomas comes up and you tell him "No I got it" but struggle more and finally give it to him. He opens it and you just.

"Fine. But I loosened it for you" and pout.

Then he pats your head and nods in agreement to make you feel better.

[urfavchaotichotmess]

Lester, Vincent, Jason and Brahms are the type to be begging on their hands and knees with tears in their eyes to give their partner head. They’re obsessed with it, they do it for their own pleasure not for yours.

[heartfullofleeches]

[Monster Reader walls a frightened human trespassing on their territory against a tree - staring down as the human tremble in fear, reaching for the pocket knife attached to their belt]

Monster Reader: Lea.....ve...

[The monster grabs the humans arm. Gripping their blade tight, the human jabs it into the Monster Reader's ribcage. They barely flinch, thick blood dripping from their torso]

Monster Reader: ah... ahh....

Monster Reader: Agh!- what the hell is wrong with you? I'm trying to get you out of here alive. Haven't you seen the signs I put up?? You know what - nevermind, at this point I don't care if that thing kills you. It's always the same with you people. Assholes.

[Monster Reader limps off as the human breathes a sigh of relief. Their body tenses right back up as the bushes russle nearby - a lone park ranger stepping out of the bushes]

Park Ranger: Whoa there! Easy, I'm here to help you. Just give me that knife and everything will be alright. :)

[Later]

"HELP ME!"

Monster Reader: Now you film them too. Do you get off on hurting people?

Slasher Yan, bandaging their wounds: I get off on doing what's right for my partner. There's a difference. Leave without telling me again and it's the muzzle for an entire week. You had me so worried...

Monster Reader: Can you at least not get blood all over the carpet?

Slasher Yan: I can say the same for you, sweetheart~

Monster Reader: I was stabbed - I am the victim here!

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Your First Time With Them

pairings: vincent x reader, bo x reader

warnings: smut, handjob, unprotected sex, A LOT of fluff on vincent's part (in my opinion)

a/n: bo is REALLY growing on me. and also, vincent's part isn't so much their first time, more like first time being intimate because i thought it was just too tender to take any further lol. but i hope you like it <3

Vincent Sinclair

When you first started spending time with Vincent, he wouldn't let you so much as hold his hand. He'd spent so many years with only his brothers and his dog to keep him company that he'd forgotten what it was like to feel the touch of another person, a living one anyway. It was months before he finally allowed you to be closer to him, only ever flinching if you gave him no warning before touching him.

But when he finally does become comfortable enough to be intimate with you, it's when you're lying in bed together one morning. You'd been in this arrangement for a couple of months now, since Vincent had finally started to be okay with you seeing his face behind the mask. You were still asleep when he woke up, so he rolled over, gently tracing his fingers along your arm.

You groan, slowly peeling your eyes open before turning to face him, noticing the crooked smile on his face when you do. You're still getting used to seeing him so comfortable, so happy.

"Mm...you're beautiful when you smile." You mumble, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hairs away from his face.

He simply stares at you for a moment, before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to yours. It's quick and it's over within seconds, but it surprises you nonetheless, because this is the first time he's kissed you like this. This is the first time he's kissed you.

You're unable to wipe the grin off your face then as you shuffle closer to him in the bed. And that's when you feel it, his hard length pressing against your stomach. You smile, looking down between you before looking back up at him, his mouth still twisted into a tiny grin.

"Is it okay if I...?" You ask, looking back down between your bodies, your hand already ghosting over his erection.

He gives you a small nod before your hand finally lands on his clothed cock, and he lets out a quiet gasp as you palm him through his boxers. You shuffle even closer to him under the covers, carefully slipping your hand inside his underwear, and you press a light kiss to his lips, the motion feeling foreign to both of you.

Vincent swears this is the best thing he's ever felt, your hand moving up and down his aching cock, whilst you both lay practically pressed together, his forehead resting against yours as his eye flutters shut.

And he doesn't feel like signing it, so he mouths 'I love you' against your mouth, hoping you understand.

"I love you too." You mumble against his lips.

Bo Sinclair

When you first arrived in Ambrose, Bo knew there was no way he was gonna let his brother have you, he wanted you all for himself. And he was surprised when you decided to stay without him having to use force. Bo's spent most of his life alone, never really getting close to anyone. The only person in his life who's ever stuck around is his brother Vincent, so he clings to you like a bad smell, terrified that you'll leave, although he doesn't tell you that.

It doesn't take long for you both to get intimate with each other. Bo's very sure of himself, so there's definitely no insecurity on his part. He comes home one day, still riled up from chasing some new victims through the town, and it doesn't take him long to start suggesting ways you might be able to make his day better.

He's slouched on the couch beside you, his hair practically dripping with sweat as he grins at you, his hand reaching over and landing on your thigh. "Come on darlin', you know it'll be worth your while."

It doesn't take much convincing before he has you straddling his lap, his hands roughly gripping your waist as he leans closer to you, his hot breath fanning over your lips. You can already feel his erection pressing into your clothed cunt, and it's driving you crazy.

"Fuck, you're an asshole." You sigh, your hands desperately gripping his shoulders as you begin to grind your hips over him.

"You're still here though, aren't ya?" He smirks, dipping his head down to drag his lips along your jawline.

"Jesus Christ, Bo." You groan, reaching down to unbuckle his belt, your fingers desperately working to get his trousers open.

He's still smirking at you as he helps you out of your jeans, dropping them to the floor along with your panties. And he wastes no time in pulling his aching cock out, guiding himself towards your entrance before sinking inside.

He leans closer to you, groaning as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hands desperately gripping your waist as you begin to move your hips over him, his cock effortlessly sliding in and out of you.

"You feel fuckin' amazing." You moan. "But for the record, you're still an asshole."

He simply chuckles as he thrusts up into you. "Noted."

[Main Masterlist] [Vincent Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !! ⊹ ‧₊˚

Thinkin’ of losing your virginity to Thomas Hewitt <3 sprawled out on his bed, nothing but a red gingham top on as you present yourself to him with spread legs. Nervously batting your eyelashes as he appears transfixed on your little cunt. Your fingers are on either side of your pussy lips, spreading open your hole so Tommy can see how sticky you are. You had fingered yourself previously, using a bottle of lubricant to get yourself nice and wet.

“‘M… my hole’s really small, I think. But that’s okay. It gets bigger! See?”

Spreading it wide, trying not to wince at the stretch even that causes you, as Tommy begins to drop his shirt and pants with a loud grunt. His demeanor may be calm, but the flush of his cheeks gives him away— he’s a virgin too, after all!

When he gets his tip up against your little virgin snatch, thick and meaty, your bottom lip pulls into a pout as you let tears fall. Happy tears, you think, and also tears of desperation. You need him more than you need air.

Tommy, ever the gentleman, pulls away to look into your eyes with a questioning stare. You smile at him, fingers going up to his hair so you can push a few strands out of his face. He doesn’t flinch. He trusts you more than he trusts himself.

“It’s okay, Tommy,” you murmur. Your hand moves in between your legs to grasp his drooling length. You press it up in between your folds again. “Fuck me. Please?”

He can’t say no to that. Slowly, he presses into your fluttering heat, mushroomed tip popping through your entrance. Your nose scrunches, a burn beginning to take over your nether regions as he continues to push in. It isn’t as bad as you expected, given his size. Your wetness drips down your thighs and then some, and for that you’re thankful. Tommy’s hands go to either side of your head for purchase, big shoulders splaying out over your much smaller form.

Oh, Tommy. He’s letting out the loudest moans, burying his masked face into your neck as he makes it halfway inside. Poor baby is shaking :( but so are you, given the way he stretches you so obscenely. Your hands move to his back so you can hold him closer, feel him closer, move him closer. When he pushes through that thin little film inside you, blood coating his cock, you’ve never felt more alive.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[visceravalentines]

What did you do for Easter, Meg? Oh you know, colored eggs and wrote sacrilegious porn, hbu? Couldn't stop thinking about the comments on this post so surprise whores here you go

Worship

Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

Bo has a few sins to confess and in the process he commits a whole bunch of new ones.

2.5k words. Smut. Super blasphemy, like so bad, and lots of religious ideas and phrasing. Oral (fem!receiving) and PnV sex in a semi-public extremely inappropriate place w/ creampie at the end bc that's what we deserve. Soft Bo, almost sub Bo if you squint. Reader wears a dress & heels and uses she/her pronouns. Extensive liberties taken with confessional booth architecture and suit pants physics.

A note: this can be read as a non-chronological part of my ongoing dilf Bo series or as a standalone.

You haven't been in this church since you were a teenager. Your eyes wander up and over the stained glass, the soaring rafters. It's a beautiful building, stately, tranquil.

"Got somethin' I need to confess," Bo whispers with his lips against your ear. Goosebumps roll down your skin.

You shoot a sidelong glance down the pew at your parents, less than two feet away. They're holiday Catholics and the sermon has them rapt, like tourists watching a wild animal from the safety of their vehicle.

You incline your head subtly in Bo's direction and hold your breath so you don't miss his next words.

"I can't get you outta my head."

You exhale slowly and shift on the bench, careful not to set the ancient wood creaking. When you sneak a look at him, he's the picture of innocence, taking in the gospel like a man who doesn't need it. You clasp your hands on your lap.

Casually, like he's commenting on the father's delivery, Bo leans in again and murmurs, "Bet you'd let me touch you here, huh? Get my hands under that little skirt...."

You shiver and shift. The bench tattles on you and your mother sends a reprimand your way with her eyes. You tug the hem of your skirt towards your knees and try to channel a modicum of the faux virtue sitting to your left.

He quiets down and behaves himself for just long enough that the flame flickering in your center dies down to an almost-appropriate level, but the heat of his leg against your bare thigh keeps you from turning all your thoughts to God. The weight of his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out of the pew for Communion is a stitch past purity. The look he manages to slip you as the father places the wafer in his open mouth makes you feel like you need to get back in line for a second pass at contrition, and maybe this time you'll mean it.

His hand brushes across your ass as you scoot back into the pew and you think about obedience, how you hate to be told what to do but you'd drop to your knees for him right now, right here, if he'd promise to quell the simmer he's started between your legs.

The father is thanking those who helped prepare the picnic on the lawn outside and Bo props his arm on the back of the bench, leans close and lets his lips graze your skin, and whispers, "Meet me up there once everybody's outside." He gestures with a nod.

You look at him with wide eyes. "The confessional?" you hiss.

He winks at you.

You follow your parents out onto the green, but Bo doesn't follow you. In fact you lose him immediately in the crowd, can't help but search for him among the abundance of pastel dresses and khaki suits. You agree vapidly with everything your mother says about the mass, nod politely at all your dad's closest acquaintances.

You excuse yourself at the second or third possible opportunity, afraid of running into the father if you sneak back too soon. Your footsteps are deafening in the now silent sanctuary, your eager uncertainty echoing back at you like an accusation.

Bo is nowhere to be seen, but neither is the clergy, so you step lightly across the stone floor and approach the confessional booth. The penitent's bench is hardly private, hung with a red curtain that only conceals from the waist up. You duck instead into the priest's chamber and inch the door closed behind you, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding once you're safely out of sight.

The small space is dimly lit by a single bulb recessed in the ceiling and the fractured light coming in through the screen on the one side. There's a bench built into the back wall and furnished with a velvet cushion. You sit, adjusting your skirt, and think about guilt.

Abruptly the door flies open and Bo slips inside, closing it all the way behind him. He's appropriately debonair in a blue suit, white shirt, no tie. For a moment, he looks a touch harried, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the door is closed. But then he looks down at you, meets your gaze, and flashes you a grin.

"Well what do we have here?"

You move to stand and he shakes his head, fighting to shrug off his suit coat in the confined space. "Don't get up, darlin', you're perfect right there. Betcha this is the first time anyone with tits has sat in that seat."

You giggle, a touch nervous. He reaches his hand out for yours and brings your knuckles to his lips. His mustache prickles your skin.

"You enjoy the mass?"

You're not sure if he's serious. "...parts of it, yeah."

He smiles. "Which parts?"

You open your mouth for a sharp reply but your gaze is hung up on his lips and when he shifts his weight you become unbearably aware of how close his bulge is to your face.

Bo laughs low and squeezes your hand. "I myself had a hard time focusin' on the good word. Had my mind on...other things." He eyes you with something like mischief. "I was hopin' maybe you could help me...unburden myself."

The smell of him is slowly permeating the tiny space, overwriting the stuffy scent of incense and oiled wood with tobacco and aftershave. He barely fits, too tall, shoulders too broad. He could swallow you whole and you wish he would.

"Anything you want," you say softly.

Bracing himself against the walls, he sinks to his knees in front of you. The pattern of the screen is emblazoned on his face in light. The wood pops and creaks. You remember to breathe.

"I'm a sinner, darlin'." He gazes up at you through those lashes, smiling sheepishly, big hands curving around your calves. "Done too much wrong to confess. Can't even remember it all."

You touch his cheek, brush your thumb over the crow's feet at the corner of his eye. "Start small."

His hands slide down to your ankles and he works at the strap of your heels with ungainly fingers. "I been tellin' lies, baby." He slips off one shoe and starts on the other. "Your mama asked me if I've been seein' anyone and I said no." His thumb runs along the arch of your foot. "Your daddy asked me if I knew where you was the other night and I told him I didn't have a clue."

He wraps his fingers around your ankles and squeezes gently, and then pulls your legs open. You stifle a gasp, try to press your thighs together to maintain a smidgen of modesty.

Bo kisses your knees. His hands creep up the outside of your legs. "Been gamblin'. Riskin' my reputation, my livelihood."

"Why would you do that?" you whisper.

He grins against your skin. His fingers are sneaking beneath your skirt. "Well y'see, there's this girl...."

You bite your lip as he curls one finger around the waistband of your panties on either side and tugs them down your thighs.

"She ain't for me...but she's all I want. And that's another thing." He tucks your panties in his pocket and you pretend you don't notice. "I been plagued by lustful thoughts. Day and night I'm thinkin' about this girl, thinkin' about the sounds she makes...picturin' her underneath me...." He guides your knees apart, drags his mouth over your skin, lighting you up from the outside in. His shoulders are solid under your hands, a foundation to cling to.

"See, I know it's wrong, but whenever she's around me I just...forget myself. Start wonderin' what she's got on under her clothes, what I gotta do to get 'em off of her...." He nips at your flesh, one, two, three up your thigh, and you gasp each time. "Keeps me up at night wishin' she was in my bed." He pauses, looks at you with cocked eyebrows. "I think about her damn near every time I defile myself, which is...often."

You exhale slowly, release the death grip you have on his shirt and run your fingers through his hair. "Sounds like you've got a lot of penance to do."

Bo lets out a helpless chuckle. "I know it, baby. I'm desperate." He blinks up at you, looking earnest. "I'm hopin' you got some salvation to offer me."

"I might." You tug your skirt up, baring yourself to him, and he groans, fingers digging into your flesh. "But you've got to earn it."

He inches forward and pins your legs open on either side of his shoulders. "Never been much of a god-fearin' man," he says, "but I know how to worship." He bows his head and you close your eyes when you feel his breath on your skin. "What d'you know about devotion, angel?"

"Nothing," you say, breathless. "Teach me."

The first pass of his tongue is feather-light and devastating and you sigh as that flickering flame roils brightly back to life. He teases the edge of your entrance, warming you up with the heat of his attention. You make a small sound and he responds with a slow, insistent lick up the length of your slit that makes you whine and clutch at his hair.

He cradles your clit in the cup of his lips and venerates you with his tongue in lazy spirals, up and over, and your blood throbs in the same rhythm. He sucks gently, and then harder, and you moan in the bliss of transubstantiation as his mouth makes the mundane into the divine.

With a growl in the back of his throat he hoists your legs onto his shoulders and penetrates you with his tongue, lapping at your pussy in search of absolution. Your eyes bounce around the blank ceiling of the booth as your hips buck mindlessly against his chin. His mustache tickles your lips, beard coarse against your inner thighs.

"Bo," you gasp as he sucks hard at your clit, "oh, god."

"I'm a bad person, baby," he mumbles. "Promise."

"No." You try and fail to stifle a cry, back arching, toes curled. "You're so good...you're so good."

Between your gasps you hear the sound of footsteps on the stone. Your steady-building climax skids to a halt and you stare wide-eyed at the confessional door.

Bo doesn't stop. In fact, he redoubles his efforts.

You clamp your hand over your mouth, trying desperately to keep still even as your body flexes and writhes against your will. You can hear two voices--you recognize one as the father but the other could be anybody, some stranger, some sinner seeking Easter confession.

Bo seals his mouth over your cunt and grinds his tongue against your clit again and again, gripping your ass, holding you to him as you squirm and seek purchase on the featureless walls.

The voices are getting closer and against all odds, so is your release. You're past the point of redemption, couldn't stave it off if you wanted to.

"Bo," you squeak under your breath, clawing at the back of his neck, grasping the edge of the seat, "please--"

He grunts softly. He's devouring you, hellbent on a miracle, bound and determined to introduce you to God. And seconds later, when your cup runneth over and your spine arches against the velvet and you have to sink your teeth into the meat of your palm to keep from howling his name, you see starbursts of pastel pink and sky blue behind your eyes and figure this is probably the closest you'll get to the pearly gates.

Your breath is hitching in your chest and you feel him slip out of your hands and you whimper, floating back into your body, unsteady as you try to sit up straight on the bench. The voices and footsteps are fading and you breathe a sigh of relief and release.

His hands are on your arms and he's coaxing you to your feet, supporting your weight on behalf of your shaking legs, turning you around in the tight space and murmuring in your ear.

"Need you, baby, right now, c'mere. Need to be inside you. Let me--"

He takes your place on the bench. He's undone his belt, freed his cock from his pants, and you clamber eagerly into his lap and let him guide you down onto him. Your head lolls back as he pushes into you, fills your empty space. The image of him looking desperately up at you is burned into the back of your eyelids.

"Angel," he breathes as he takes your face in his hands and brings your mouth to his. His kisses are hot with lust, with greed, with envy of everyone who's ever touched your lips before him. You can smell yourself in his beard, sweet and heady like original sin.

You move, rocking back and forth on his cock, and he moves you, hands on your hips, your skirt in disarray, his shirt falling open as you wrestle with the buttons. He pulls you closer, pulls himself deeper, and you can feel his heart pounding when you brace yourself on his chest.

"Ain't gonna last long," he pants. "So fuckin' tight, baby, so perfect...."

"That's okay, that's okay," you say, stumbling over your words. The frame of the booth is groaning in legitimate complaint, the entire structure trembling slightly, and you're going to get caught, surely you are, and you'll be cast out together beyond the reach of forgiveness but that might be alright as long as you've got him with you.

You press yourself against him, as close as you can get and not close enough. He cums with his face buried in your chest and your name in his mouth like a prayer. The kick of his cock inside you grants you another little climax, a little death, little moans jarred from your lips with each waning thrust of his hips.

"Kiss me," you whisper, and he obeys, his eyes glazed, his gaze soft and adoring. His needy grip on your waist melts into caresses and you finger the buttons of his shirt like rosary beads. One is missing; you're both hopelessly disheveled, undeniably sin-touched. You push his hair off his forehead and back into place. "Did this help?"

He shakes his head and laughs quietly. "No."

"Made it worse."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"'S okay." He kisses you again. "You're forgiven."