#jennifer check!reader

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Hell Of A Summer (what songs I think match the vibe)

Summary….

Songs I think goes well with the vibe….

And Y/n…

[mauswyx]

soft-spoken s/o

TLDR: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, Jennifer Check, and Bo Sinclair's reactions to having a fairly quiet s/o WORD COUNT: 1k CW: none, fluff AO3

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Thomas Hewitt

ironically would not be used to the silence at first; he’s used to chatters and screaming! He’s never met someone who speaks so quietly 

will lean towards you when you speak, listening intensely 

finds your silence comforting after the initial shock and enjoys your quiet presence as he goes about his business

quickly adapts to communicating with you via body language and facial expressions, etc; it is a method he’s familiar with after all

takes great pride that he’s the only one that can read your mind or decipher your mumbling

He couldn’t help but spare you a glance every so often as you sat at the opposite end of the barn as he worked. You were mending a shirt Luda Mae scavenged from some luggage…or at least trying to. Your bottom lip was swollen from being gnawed on and your brow was furrowed–the needlework must be tedious, he concluded. He turned his attention back to his work, a few minutes passed before he decided to glance up again only to find that you were muttering to yourself, trying to rethread the string through the eye.

Despite finding your frustration amusing, he couldn’t take your suffering anymore. He strode over to you, gently enveloping your hand in his before plucking the needle away. He made quick work of the thread, giving you a knowing look as he set back to work, but not before hearing a quiet “Thank you Tommy.” 

Brahms Heelshire

does not enjoy that he can’t coax loud reactions from you; he works so hard to mess with you and you don’t say anything?! How rude!

will switch gears and will purposefully pretend not to know what you’re gesturing to or that he can’t hear you to annoy you; he can play by your game but he won’t play fair

he’s been (watching) studying you through the walls so it’s quite easy for him to pick up on your body language to know what you’re feeling or wanting of him 

actually likes your voice and will do everything in his power to get you to use it; even if it means getting a scolding 

bedtime is his favorite part of the day because he gets to listen to you read; will pick out exceptionally long books to listen to you just a while longer 

Echoes etched the room as you tapped your foot against the dusty rug. He had been in a mood all afternoon: being especially disobedient and ignoring your calls from within the walls. He was being so difficult that you had no choice but to search for him, though it proved to be in vain as you couldn’t find him anywhere. A worried knot began to form in your stomach. There was only one thing you could do. With a deep inhale you rolled your head on your shoulders before letting out a shout.

“Brahms!” Your voice was hoarse–not used to being at such a volume, rolling your eyes in frustration “Please come out!” The scraping of wood met your ears shortly before his long arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You bit the interior of your cheek as you could hear the smugness in his voice, having won his game.

“There’s no need to shout.”

Jennifer Check

“they said no pickles.” embodiment 

at first, mistakes your quietness for being flustered by her and she amps up her prowess only to realize you’re like this…all the time…with everyone 

will speak for you whether it’s ordering your food or answering a question on your behalf; is actually exceptionally good at knowing what you want without much effort 

actually doesn’t mind the silence when you don’t feel like talking—grateful that you two can just share a moment together or that she can have someone to rant to

will not make a big deal if you feel talkative, she’ll casually continue the conversation in hopes it’ll make you feel more comfortable

“-and who does that? It’s bullshit!” she scoffed, gently scraping the tips of her long nails on the back of your hand as she laid next to you. You silently nodded in agreement, staring up at her face: her nose was scrunched and her eyes were glazed over, lost in thought–before suddenly snapping down to stare into your own. “I mean, you don’t think I’m in the wrong do you?” 

You couldn’t help letting your lip curl up at her pout, she had definitely been the cause of the altercation but you’d never tell her that; instead, you opted to halfheartedly shake your head. As expected, your poor acting didn’t go unnoticed and her eyes widened before playfully swatting her hand at your stomach.

“No way! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Bo Sinclair

“huh” x5

cannot understand what you’re saying for the life of him and gets annoyed very easily; more so at his own inability to comprehend you when everyone else seems to understand you just fine

interrupts you when you’re speaking, trying to guess what you’re saying instead of just listening 

puts on a big show to do as you asked when he does finally pick up on what you’re saying 

often wrongly infers what you’re saying but at least he’s trying

“Darlin’…'' he groaned, running a hand down his face “-you’re gunna needa work with me…” You huffed out a breath of air, already annoyed at having had to already repeat yourself twice and repeating yourself a third time honestly wasn’t even worth it; you just wanted the step-ladder to reach something in top-stock, but at this point you’d rather just climb the shelves themselves than have to be stuck in this never ending game of charades. You were half-tempted to do just that, but the look on Bo’s face made you relent; he had been so patient the least you could do was not give up on him.

“I need the ladder…” you said again, this time trying to enunciate your words as best as possible and to your surprise his face lit up. Not a great sign. 

“Bladder?” he repeated, not waiting for a response as he sped towards the shop counter, “Don’t worry baby! I’ll get the restroom key!”

[sleepingdeath-light]

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

[sp1der-wid0w]

deadass, it’s so funny and scary when these guys get mad

[lacy-oh-lacy]

✧₊⁺ Pairing: Jennifer Check x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fluff with Jennifer because she has a soft spot for you. (CW: Sex is mentioned in passing.) ♡₊⁺

When people thought of Jennifer Check, they thought of her dominance.

A core trait so integral to who she was that it was hard to imagine her without it.

It was there back in highschool, when she'd strut around campus like she owned the place.

It was there on the hunt, when she was more predator, more demon, than woman.

It was there in the bedroom, when she pinned you down and treated you no better than she did the piece of plastic in her drawer.

But tonight it was nowhere to be seen.

She lied nestled against you, her head on your chest and a leg over your hips. You absentmindedly toyed with silky strands of her hair, a feeling of pure contentment warm inside you that you were sure she felt too.

It was hard to focus on the TV when cast in its glow was Jennifer's face, more relaxed than you'd seen it in a while.

Her crystal blue gaze pinned to the screen, her plump lips parted just so.

She was so fucking kissable, it wasn't even funny.

Her head tilted back and your eyes met. Your heart beat doubled.

"Hi." You whispered.

Jennifer smiled, a soft and mesmerising thing.

"I think I love you... Is that totally stupid?"

Your breath caught, coming back out in a giggle.

"No. It's a little gay though." You teased.

Her smile turned sly, more of a smirk really. "Only a little?" She shifted to be face to face with you, "I'll have to try harder then."

Her lips pressed against yours, smooth and gentle but as electrifying as ever.

You raked your nails through her hair on your way to settle your hand against her jaw, cupping her face.

"I love you too." You muttered, against her, feeling her breath fan your flushed skin as you did.

"I know." She shimmied back down, making a pillow out of your boobs once again. "I think you're the only one who ever really has."

You wrapped your arm around her, flexing at her words. At the thought of anyone taking her for granted.

Maybe you were naive, or even flat-out delusional, but despite everything Jennifer's done -as a demon and a human- there wasn't a thing you wouldn't do to make her feel loved for as long as she'd have you.

Masterlist | Divider credit

[gayandfairycore]

But it’s better if you do

Summary: Being Jennifer checks human girl friend and being best friends with needy, instead of Jennifer finding needy when she freshly turns she finds you. You struggle to find the right time to confess your love for the demon girl, when People of devils kettle go missing you can’t bring yourself to care when the succubus’s lips are on yours.

Warnings: reader doesn’t really care about anyone but Jennifer, homoerotic gay friendships are my fav, Jennifer killing and eating boys normal succubus things, arson, a complicated relationship with Jennifer where she kisses reader w/o consent, stalking, breaking and entering, probably more but I’m not sure!

A/n: I love Jennifer check so much I’m only like 80% proud of this fic but man Jennifer is so hot & what else could I do aside from using a patd song!

✧༺༻∞

Melody lane, a shitty little jukebox club in the middle of devils kettle usually filled with drunk old men, crusty teenagers, and Jennifer’s flings.

But occasionally they had a half decent band playing. And okay alcohol when Jennifer actually managed to convince the bartender. the only way you’d ever hear any of them was when Jennifer managed to drag yourself and needy along with her to the club to watch as she seduced either a new fling, or an old one.

You never minded Jennifer dragging you to places, you liked the company, I fact youd jump when the girl invited you to one of hers and needys sleepovers, it was usually filled with sinful thoughts, movies you’d rented, and shroud gossip about your drab peers. To you Jennifer and needys were the most interesting people in devils kettle.

But there was something especially, special about Jennifer. from her sensual smile, to the way she’d bite her lip when you were near, the the taste of her lip gloss, and the nights her lips were on yours. You’d deal with the disappointment of going back to friends the next morning as long as you got to feel the girls cold hands on your body.

she was addictive. so addictive, you’d stay in a constant loop of the girls lips on yours as you shared a bed with each other, her touch delicate and light over the skin of your chest. It was the only time her words were ever gentle and not piercing alone with you was the only time she’d let her guard down.

But you loved her in public too, when she was mean and cold. you didn’t mind when she was mean to you, infact you liked her meanness, her spirit, her beauty, her love for fun, her piping hot gossip. You liked Jennifer not just for her banging body but for her soul.

The way her hands would rest on top of yours underneath the table in geography, the way her perfect nails would scratch against your back on your sleepovers.

You loved Jennifer, like you loved breathing.

the night melody lane burned down and the freaks from that band wanted a virgin and some how hypnotised Jennifer to join them in their creepy van needy had to hold you back from chasing after the girl, but from the sound of people’s bones breaking and the smell of their skin burning off when you three were briefly trapped in the club it left you in the wrong headspace. It left you unable to think straight.

the only thing repeating in your head over and over, “where’s jen? Why did I let her go with them? I should have done more.” Over and over again

But from the burning bodies, needys quiet sobs, and watching as your best friend get in a van with freaks all you wanted to do was go home, sit on your bed, and cry. Your ride home in Jennifer’s sea-bring left you itchy and uncomfortable. it felt wrong to sit in Jennifer’s car without her. But still you sat there with the aircon blasting because you couldn’t handle the heat You still felt the residual burn from the fire.

It felt wrong to be safe in a car with needy When Jennifer was probably suffering in the hands of emo guys from a shitty band out of state that decided to lay their seedy sights on devils kettle and take your best friend from you. It felt like one big cruel joke.

“Are you gonna be okay without me?” Needy asked resting her hands on the steering wheel pushing her glasses up against her face. Snapping you out of your thoughts

“Yeah yeah… I’ll be okay will you?” You asked your arms tightly wrapped around yourself the chill of the night air against your uncovered arms was welcomed.

The nerdy girl observed your face, not quite believing you’d be okay by the far off look in your eyes she wasn’t even sure she knew where you were. She was wrong. you knew exactly where you were but your head was out of it. Part of you still left with Jennifer in the van Still fighting needys grip still being held back in needys hold as you watched the girl you love be carted away with strange men.

“Yeah I’ve got chip.” Needy smiled awkwardly your voices quiet in the silence the small car light basking you two in warm orange. Watching eachother in awkward in silence, you were just grateful for your lives. And you’d talk about the effects of this eventually, but not tonight.

“Drive safe needy.” You smiled hand squeezing her shoulder tightly before unbuckling and getting out of the car. The walk to your door had been quick the buzzing silence and the illumination from the street lights left an eerie feeling to chill your bones. Or maybe it was the chill of the night air cooling your burning skin.

slotting your key into the hole and sliding the door open you’re met with your home drenched in darkness. The usual warmth and safety of your house felt unnerving.

The warm yellow lights from your ceiling and the sounds of the tv that sounded like childhood was gone only filled with aching silence. It was like even your home reflected your mood.

The only light was what came from your porch and needys headlights as she left down your street.

you wandered to the kitchen in the dead of night, the familiar creak of the floorboards and the buzz of your fridge calmed your racing thoughts, the only light source from the beeping green timer on the oven that stayed on no matter what you did. This was good.

This meant you were safe. You were home.

As you Pulled out a glass cup and filling it up with sink water, resting against the counter you downed your glass quickly the smooth liquid cooled the dryness in the back of your throat, the smoke from the fire coated your throat and making swallowing difficult.

You felt so sick, climbing the stairs to your bedroom and collapsing on your bed you flick your dated lamp on the warm light illuminating your room you finally let the tension from your body the sound of a creak made you crack your eyes open straining your ears to hear anything else after a few minutes of silence

it was probably nothing climbing under the plush comfy blankets of your bed you felt like a little kid again. safe under the blankets tucked in where nothing could touch you.

Despite your blanket force field you didn’t dare turn off the lights. You keep them on and let them light the room.

You were always terrified of the dark. The only darkness you liked was the back of your eyelids

So you shut your eyes tightly and tried to ignore the horrible stench of smoke littering your clothes and staining your sheets. It would be your mother’s problem in the morning.

✧༺༻∞

When you cracked your eyes open again you were met with the sight of your light turned off and your room shrouded in darkness, Odd.

The world outside your window was also silent no crickets, no cars, just nothing.

Sitting up on your bed your blanket clutched to your chest you strained your eyes to look through the darkness, to adjust to the dimly lit room as you blindly reached your hand for the lamp switch turning it on despite the click you’re only met with darkness.

So you tried again,

Click

Still darkness?

“Fuck sake” you muttered the age of the lamp clearly took its toll and of course it chose today of all days to die.

Pulling the cord to you you’re met with a jagged edge, not the plug pulled out from the Power Point under your bed. But a cord that’s been cut the edges fraying dangerously.

Panic swirls in your chest any semblance of tiredness in you disipates as you observe your room, straining your eyes demanding them to focus. Your heart racing you can’t help but imagine a horrid monster under your bed that’s going to grab your ankle the moment you hop down.

Letting out a quiet whimper at the thought you push yourself against the headboard you’re met with two options: brave getting off the bed, and making a run for the light switch Or…Jumping out the window from the second floor, and splat on the veranda. no.

You’ve got one option,

You’d have to brave the darkness.

Taking a shaky breath you push yourself from the safety of your bed you become alarmingly aware of every step, every sound, every creak. You can hear your breaths in the silent room but something in the back of your mind swears you heard the breathing of something that wasn’t you.

you wonder if you’re being pranked, “ok needy, chip. Not funny!” You call shakily into the darkness.

but when a hand grips your foot and tugs you hard to the floor, you slam painfully against the wood Groaning at the impact it only takes you a minute before your mind is clear again.

And you realise there’s some monster under the bed that tugged you to the floor. And their hands still holding your foot. you scream and tug your leg from their hold with force but still your eyes don’t adjust to the darkness and your scrambling to get back up but the monster doesn’t let you tugging you again to the floor. their hand grips your upper calf leaving a wet, sticky hand print.

What the fuck.

You feel their body crawl over you their cold hand trails your body with force but

Before you can scream again hand is covering your mouth tears well in your eyes at the feeling all the worst scenarios come to mind as you lay there frozen in fear, tears well in your eyes spilling down your cheeks.

“P-please” you whimper in its hold and the monster laughs. It laughs. Or what you think is a laugh it sounds like a horrible gurgle but it must be amused by the way the pressure holding you down lets up only slightly.

Just as quick as the laugh came it’s gone replaced with silence and a monster straddling your hips it feels human.

And in away that makes it worse. When the monsters hands trail your body from your hips to your chest where they settle over the little silver bff locket Jennifer gave you, it brings its wet slimy lips to your cheeks and its tongue slips from its mouth and you come to realise it’s licking your tears from your cheeks. It’s hold lightens immensely as it places a light kiss over your lips and you cry harder unable to see what this thing is, before its pulling back and it’s stopped straddling your waist instead it sits with its hands on the floor and its knees to it’s shoulders.

In the dim moonlight you catch a glimpse of black hair, and a sickly smile

“Are you afraid of me?” It asks with a voice like Jennifer’s and you swallow the bile in your throat

“Yes.” You hoarsely whimper, you’re left with a horrible realisation the lips that just kissed you feel the same as when Jennifer does. Before you can confront this thing masquerading as Jennifer it replies.

“good” just when you think you’re safe the creature skitters back to toward you, you finally see what this creature is, the light a passing car that shines into your window gives you enough time to see the creature and you’re right.

it’s Jennifer, just Jennifer she doesn’t look like some permanently deformed monster she still looks beautiful despite Her face covered in mascara streaks and an inky black substance that littered her pale skin and what looks to be blood on her shirt jennifer smiles and she crawls towards you her hands trailing your chest to her necklace. And she leans near you her lips hovering over the shell of your ear and she places a kiss And it doesn’t feel like it did when you and Jennifer sleepover, or the way she leans towards you to whisper something in your ear at school this is intimate.

But this leaves you questioning If she was Jen why did she go so far to tug you to the floor? Why Did she hold you down? Why did cut your lamp? You had so many questions and by the way the girl observed you it unnerved you, it made it abundantly clear you weren’t getting any answers tonight but still you couldn’t help yourself.

“Jennifer?”you say through tears finally sitting up “Jen…what happened?” You ask tearfully she’s crouching on the balls of her feet her her arms holding her ankles and it’s impulsive but you can’t stop yourself you reach out to touch her cold cheek with a shaky hand.

“Why were you under my bed? What are you covered in?”Your hands still hold the girls face before venturing to her shoulders and you pull her to stand up with you and to your surprise she does it. she watches you with a familiar glint in her eyes and you can see she wasn’t some bogey man. Just Jennifer. covered in what you assume is blood, and an odd black substance, but she was still Jennifer.

“What did they do to you?” You whisper before you can stop yourself, tell yourself that is was just shock. Like shock did this kind of thing to people. You couldn’t trick yourself with lies something happened.

It would do no good to question the girl about it just yet, so you Lead her to your kitchen you filled up a glass of water for the girl and watched as she downed the entire thing before going through your fridge, tugging through all of your food, finding nothing of value.

She turned back to you and she watched you hungrily like she wanted to consume your soul like you were prey and she was predator, like a lion and an antelope on a nature documentary. It made your skin prickle.

“Jennifer? What’s going on?” You pleaded your eyes watching her every move, Jennifer stalks up to you with speed that makes you back track into the counter, and her body entraps you against the counter and her lips ghost yours before she pulls away and you fight the urge to chase her lips you watch as she dashes out the back door, the slam of a screen is the only thing that even told you you were not crazy That and the black goop drying to your body.

✧༺༻∞

The next morning you arrive late to school having missed first period, staying awake into the long hours of the morning too afraid to sleep. from the fire, to your odd encounter with Jennifer it left you shaking, sitting for hours in an extra hot shower trying to pull yourself together although the heat seemed to make your skin prickle and the fire in melody lane burn brighter in your mind. You needing to feel clean, you needed to shower off the grime, and the incident with Jennifer.

Maybe it was The mild case of smoke inhalation in your lungs that made you hallucinate last night but the black goo on your body made you question that theory.

when you finally arrived to your first class of the day you sat beside needy and the girl looked as traumatised as you felt and you don’t have to ask to know she’s had a night similar to yours.

“Hey” you greet and the girl greets a quiet “hi y/n” back but you don’t pay much mind not when you’re teacher begins to talk about the fire and the people who died who went to school with you.

At the mere mention of melody lane needy and yourself share a look with eachother a sense of guilt and dread that you three survived. It wasn’t dread over the fact you survived, you all were happy to be alive but you felt somewhat responsible for the fire despite not even setting it.

Why did three girls who are the most unlikely group of friends survive? Why not everyone else? Were they not equally important? What if one of them were going to cure cancer. Why did you live you weren’t going to cure cancer.

When the door to the classroom swing open and Jennifer walks in looking as perfect as ever, you can’t help but think the girl looks absolutely stunning (like always) your cheeks prickling with the feeling of her hand caressing them last night and you fight the urge to chase the imaginary feeling. Making sure you don’t raise your hand to your cheek over the feeling.

Instead you shake your shoulders like it’ll put your back in the present. It works. But you can’t shake the feeling of your hairs that stand up on the back of your neck as Jen pulls up a seat beside you and her warmth heats your side and her addictive perfume wafts around you, and you can tell she’s watching you with the same look as she always does. A sensual look thats different than the looks she gives her flings, it’s a look that makes you feel like you can’t breathe.

She slathers lip gloss over her plush pink lips as needy attempts to talk sense into Jennifer, you didn’t even realise she was talking. Only catching the final bit of her conversation

“Anyone we know?” You hear Jennifer ask like she doesn’t really care, but there’s a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

“We know everyone…” needy says her eyes watching Jennifer like she’s foreign. And you watch the desk like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

You don’t pay much attention when Jennifer talks about how amazing she feels and how she doesn’t care about the fire. It shocks you truthfully because told but you don’t have the energy to pay attention to anything but the guilt when Craig’s friend, Jonas, starts crying in the middle of class.

You look down at your lap playing with your fingers as Jennifer talks to both yourself and needy you catch sight of needys hands. her nail beds caked with the same inky black substance that assaulted your body and for the first time since Jennifer walked in you look her in her eyes with a sort of horrified intrigue, it wasnt a dream that you conjured up in your fucked up mind. when your eyes flicker to needy something passes between you both. A shared Understanding.

✧༺༻∞

You spent the first day back at school in a weird headspace like your drifting through the hall’s hollow. Like your energy’s stagnant, like a ghost. It’s like you died in that fire.

It’s like you’re not actually here anymore you walk the halls seeing but not observing. Clutching your book to your chest as you walked the halls with needy the sounds of sobbing filled the halls, friends embracing friends it made the scene even more intense.

You were counting every minute down until the end of the day until you could go home watch some tv and stare into space, you stood beside needy looking through your locker as needy told chip about what she witnessed with Jennifer. You couldn’t help but pay attention to her story despite your hands searching for your school book.

“It was like evil…” needy shook her head unable to come up with words to describe it, chip watched the girl with something akin to awkward concern? Although chip was always awkward.

“I think you need to see the school shrink. I love you needy but that’s a little…crazy?” Chip shrugged defiantly before placing a kiss to needys cheek and walking to class.

“Well, I believe you needy. Something happened to me too last night she cut the cord to my lamp and she was under my bed…she pulled me to the floor- Somethings wrong.” Your voice shakes as you lowered it to a whisper confiding in needy with a nod of the blond girls head

“We need more information” needy spoke pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose

✧༺༻∞

When needy called you that night that Jonas had apparently been murdered and eaten it felt like time stilled, What curse was plaguing devils kettle stealing away its people it was odd. It was like melody lane was the one thing that caused a chain of events.

It was no time before news broke again there was another murder.

then another,

then finally Colin gray died after Jennifer agreed to go out with him.

Each murder had the same mo, a cannibal killing. murdering only boys. it was poetic As it was confusing, now you didn’t particularly care for any of these boys why would you? Who needed boys when you had Jennifer and needy? but you would admit to be eaten alive, left in a half finished houses, nothing but carnage with their pants down, rosary clutched in their bloody hands. It was pretty disgusting.

You empathised for these guys but truthfully you didn’t care, not one bit. The only people you cared for was needy and Jennifer and Jennifer had been glowing recently despite the murders, the girl waltzed around not a care in the world, she was living her best life. until she wasn’t.

Then there’d be another murder.

and then Jennifer would look beautiful again (not like she ever stopped but she’d look inhumanly beautiful.) And then shortly after she’d find another boy to toy with at school and in her fling with that boy she’d spend her nights in your bed, her soft fingers playing with your hair as you rested on her knees listening to the latest fall out boy cd And her strawberry lipgloss would leave a sheen on your lips that you’d be tasting for hours after.

And a scent on your tshirts that had you sniffing them for weeks, Then she’d disappear from your hold again. for weeks, she’d leave the sheets cold and her absence ever growing.

And you lay in your bed re-listening to fall out boy, and smelling her perfume on your tshirt to quench the Jennifer shaped hole in your life.

And she’d stop glowing, and she’d look tired, at school hair lifeless compared to its previous glowy form only a week ago.

And it began to make you wonder if maybe it was something more than just pms. It solidified your theory that something darker happened to Jennifer the day melody lane burned to the ground.

Maybe it changed Jennifer so much it made Jennifer kill these boys, you didn’t forget that night at your house where she looked inhuman. where she tugged you to the floor and her lips pressed against yours with force. like she’d have you right then and there like you’d be her last meal.

You had to confront her, Something was wrong with Jennifer check.

✧༺༻∞

It was a normal school day, nothing particularly special happened the morning your house empty by the time you woke up, the heater of your car blowing the same warm air against your cheeks as it always did, then you’d be at school the lively chatter of your fellow students excitement over the upcoming school dance was the only thing buzzing through the hallways

The various murders had become old news, by the time Colin grey died it was no longer of interest to be focused on the maneater “tormenting” devils kettle.

Just as quickly as the chatter came it left, and in its wake left nothing but a trail of murders behind and the horribly popular song released by low shoulder that seemingly took everyone in devils kettle by storm.

You couldn’t give a shit about the murders, these guys never cared about anyone but themselves, plus who needed boys they were useless anyway.

You’re infatuation with Jennifer grew but By this point in time you began to decipher by the help of needy, that Jennifer was a succubus. The blonde had been horrified to learn her friend had been killing these boys. That Jennifer virtually died the night the band shut the van door. Leaving Jennifer trapped with them.

The realisation that you indirectly killed the girl made you want to throw up, you’d never dream of harming the girl so learning you kinda sealed her fate left you wallowing.

The school library was chilly its plastic blue chairs and sad grey carpet left you rolling your eyes. The plain white desks and rows and rows of books left you and needy hidden from prying eyes

Shutting the occult book needy and your self discovered in the library both your hands shook with the realisation your friend was infact a demon, both needy and yourself shared a mildly horrified look and in no time the both of you departed the library the blonde to chip. And you to Jennifer.

✧༺༻∞

Rushing through the halls of devils kettle highschool you didn’t care to observe the faces of your peers opting to instead hurry through the halls to the change rooms Jennifer would have been only now finishing getting changed back from her flag girl practice and she’d always stay later for a long shower, so the room would be pretty much deserted. Perfect.

Flinging open the door to the change rooms you’re met with Jennifer tying her shoes on a small wooden bench the black haired girl lifts her head as you enter the room her usual bored expression plastered on her face her lips perfectly glossy and her eyes watched you with a sense of unnerving pleasure.

Like she enjoyed reading you to see when you’d figure her out.

“I know what you are” you tried to hide the shake in your voice when you spoke closing the change room door and stepping towards her. cringing inwardly at how blunt you seemed you refused to let the facade of fearlessness die so easily so you watched as Jennifer’s perfect lips tipped upward as the revelation

“Do you?” She dragged tucking hair behind her ear and standing up to stalk towards you bumped into the door as you stepped back you stopped the shuddering breath from leaving you when you felt her body creep in front of you her wicked eyes watched you.

“You’re a succubus. You’re the one killing the boys.”

“Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go.” The girl sneered her glossed lips bright as she watched you.

Steeling yourself beneath her gaze you took a breath filling your lungs with humid changeroom air;

“do you deny it?”

Your voice was strong as you stood your eyes boring into eachother you knew your icy tongue wouldnt do the girl any real harm, she’d had her fill she was immortal. Regenerative.

When you were met with silence Jennifer’s cold gaze calculating whether she should confess or kill you now. But the brave look in your eyes and the familiar feeling of your lips on hers she’d grown far too fond of you.

“Do. you. deny. it.” There was no doubt in you, now you were sure, Jennifer was a succubus you just needed her to confess to ensure you were not insane. Staring the girl in the eyes you hardened your gaze and you waited on baited breath for which of you would crack first.

This time,

it was Jennifer.

breaking eye contact she turned her gaze to the ground sighing. “Yes I’m a succubus god.” The girl groaned bored

“how did it happen?” You felt the flood gates open it had been involuntary for your concern to slip out through your cold facade

“The band freaks like totally sacrificed me, when I got into their creepy van it was like the fog on my mind cleared and I realised the trouble I was in, they took me to the falls and I tried to run but they caught me and…” the girl dragged the last bit out before plopping herself down on the bench sitting crisscrossed you sat next to the girl you felt tears well in your eyes.

Jennifer was murdered by the band freaks, and you didn’t try harder to stop her from entering that van, She died because of you.

You felt a lump rise in your throat, “they sacrificed you” you nodded and it felt like you were going to implode looking at your best friend and imagining her bloodied corpse all alone at the falls.

“Mhm, When they caught me they gagged me, and then sacrificed me to Satan- how fucking lame is that!” Jennifer rolled her eyes yet there was a hint of pain shining in her eyes maybe Jen wasn’t completely gone.

“And well after everything happened I managed to find my way to you… I was so hungry but I couldn’t bring myself to kill you, I like you too much.” Despite her bored tone her fingers fiddled in her lap she was nervous to confess this.

“Jennifer” your eyes shone as you watched the girl this was the closest you’d get to Jennifer telling you she loved you, atleast right now. But you understood what the raven haired girl was telling you, and it was like everything she’s done up to this point didn’t matter to you.

“Jen. I don’t care that you have to kill and eat boys, i don’t care that you’re like a demon now? I don’t care about any of it.” You shook your hands as you spoke with volition any confliction you held washed away.

“Jennifer I have loved you since we were kids. you were always my girl. Fuck those guys! The boys you’ve eaten, the band freaks, every pathetic morsel in devils kettle! fuck all of them! I want you, Demon and all.” You exclaimed your warm hands enclosing her cold ones your eyes booring into hers, the shiny sheen of lipgloss on her pink lips made you want to kiss her

It had been months since the fire, months since the girl had caressed your body like she was starving. Like your soft skin bled life itself into her undead heart.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you only had now.

“Can I kiss you?” Your hands hovered over the girls cool cheeks as you asked in a whisper, Jennifer didn’t respond instead the girl shot forward catching your lips into a kiss her lipgloss sticking to your lips as Jennifer had her way with you the girl certainly was a great kisser finally snapping out of your stupor, you kissed her back feverishly.

Both lips fitting together like pieces to a puzzle you hope to never pull back from her lips again. You’d put all of your fears behind you even if it was just for now.

[phntmeii]

Slashers Finds Out their SO Reads Smut/Fanfiction

Loses their mind in a panic, not knowing what to do with this information. Has to call someone else to figure out how to react appropriately.

Billy Loomis, Brahms Heelshire, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair

Completely embarrassed that they found out this information and has questions. Will casually pretend they did not see it and never mention it.

PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt

They cannot help their smug look as they print out certain paragraphs to tease their SO. Takes notes for later activities.

Bo Sinclair, PostMichael!Corey Cunningham, Freddy Krueger, Jennifer Check

Makes their SO read the work out loud to them to watch them squirm. Rewards them with whatever parts they were too shy to read out loud later that night.

Billy Lenz, Hannibal Lecter, RZ!Michael Myers, Patrick Bateman

[friendlyneighborhoodhottie]

───♡────────♡──── ♡ Pretty (Jennifer Check x Insecure Reader -Fluff-)  ───♡────────♡────

You feel insecure about your looks and tell Jennifer.

Light swearing. 363 Words.

♡⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹_. ༶ ⋆˙⊹⁺♡

Wednesday, you decided to spend the night at your girlfriend Jennifer's house. Some generic boy-band-pop music was playing in the background as you two conversed about whatever popped in your heads.

You were sitting on Jennifer's pink bed, watching as she twirled in the mirror. She curled her hair and was admiring her new look.

"I could be on the runway for Victoria's Secret, like one of those angel chicks" she said posing.

"Tell me something I don't know" you laugh, and she laughs with you.

The music continued to play filling the otherwise now silent air.

You stared at her, how her body had curves and seemingly in the right places, her nails pristinely manicured and polished. Her healthy hair flowing with a smile so vibrant. She was confident. She was perfect. She was pretty.

"God, I wish I was pretty like you."

She pauses her movements and turns to you before saying, "What? You are, like, crazy fucking pretty, (Y/n/n), what are you talking about?"

"Ugh, you're just saying that because you're my girlfriend" you say playfully tossing a pillow at her.

She caught the pillow before scoffing and tossing it back.

"(Y/n/n), you know I wouldn't say things to you if I didn't mean it, Babe. C'mere." She grabs you by the hand and leads you to the mirror standing beside but a little behind you.

"Your eyes are one of the first things I noticed when I first met you, how unique and pretty they were...especially when they were on me"

You playfully roll your eyes and start to smile.

''And your hairr," she plays with your hair before going on "you pull it off so well you look extra salty". She grins on 'well' and then looks at you directly.

"You know how many people would absolutely kill to have your body?"

You raise your eyebrows and say, "That weird band who got arrested for attempted murder comes to mind."

"Yeah, well, for you, I'd kill those wannabe Green Day rejects."

She hugs you from behind and puts her head on your shoulder before calling you her new nickname for you, "Pretty".

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

JENNIFER CHECK Y/N PROFILE

Name’s: y/n check, y/n, etc

Occupation: Succubus, Serial Killer, etc

Powers/skills: Cheerleading Skills, Charisma, Nigh Immortality, Levitation, Murder, Regeneration, Immunity, Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Speed, Conversion, Stealth, etc

Hobby: Seducing Men, Killing Men, etc

Type Of Villain: Demonic Femme Fatale

Personality: Seductive, Evil, Sinister, Snarky Calm, Manipulative, etc

Hight: 5’4

Hair Color: Black Hair

Sexuality: Bisexual

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. killing the reader’s rapist

warnings: yandere behavior, subject matter is rape/sexual assault, gore warning in some parts - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

TIFFANY VALENTINE:

Tiffany knows something happened to you. Call it woman's intuition. Maybe just call it true love. Or obsession. Whatever it is she can sense a hole in you. A gaping pit of misery that you try and hide. Try and fight against.

Tiffany tries to help, when you let her. Most of the time you don't. Instead of admitting to being so depressed you can’t move or eat, you'll feign physical illness. You pretend you're crying because some part of your body hurts. Tiffany knows better. Knows it’s something in your soul itself. Aching. 

Tiffany let's it go on for as long as she can stomach it. The relationship was still so new. You'd just moved in together. Just finished pulling your separate lives into one. Picking out the throw pillows, what color to paint the walls. Argued playfully over bedding and mattress firmness. Is it too early to push? 

She watches you at the breakfast table, on the really bad days, eating mechanically, no joy in your movement or behind your eyes. She doesn't want there to be anything between you. Any secrets. Any distance. If you're hurting she wants you to lean on her. To need her as much as she needs you. To know she’ll catch you, no matter what it is she’ll catch you. It’s enough to leave her in tears every time you put on that awful fake smile. 

She wakes one night, blinking into the darkness. For a moment, she's not sure what woke her. Moonlight streams in from the window. The sound of the fan whirring across the room. Her eyes begin to drift shut again when she hears a muffled sob come from the bathroom. Her hand falls to your side of the bed, instinctively. She closes her eyes when she realizes how cold your side has gone. How long ago did you wake up? How quickly did you decide to crawl from bed and hide from her again? Always hiding. 

It's too much, now. You crying alone in the bathroom in the middle of the night is too much. She throws open the door and takes you into her arms, cooing softly, own eyes watering at the way you go limp against her so quickly. Here she'd been trying to give you space and what you needed was her affection, her tenderness, the whole time.

"What's wrong, huh, baby-doll? You gonna tell your Tiffany what's wrong now? Please?" She whispers against your hair, kissing the crown of your head.

You haven't said the words out loud in so long but you're tired of fighting the demons, and the nightmares, and the misery, all on your own. You've held it in so tightly since you met her. As if you'd taint her just by saying the words. But you love her, and you just want to stop hiding.

When you tell her she goes still. For just a second. Her arms tighten around you like a vice. She begins to rock you gently, cooing reassurances in your ear. She tells you to let everything out and you do. Now that you know she’ll still love you. That she’ll still be here for the aftermath. You can’t stop yourself.

By the end you feel exorcized. Alive. Softened and made new by the level of tenderness Tiffany had shown you. She gathers you from the floor of the bathroom, wipes both of your tears away and kisses you gently. She tucks you back into bed and asks only one more question: 

“What was their name again, sugar bear?” You don’t hesitate to tell her. It warms her heart the way you curl into her side without anymore hesitation. The space between you gone now. 

You sleep deeply that night. You wake up to an empty bed and are surprised. Usually, no matter how late you sleep in Tiffany is still wrapped around you. Just as much a night owl as you, early mornings are rare.  

You pass by the laundry room, notice that the washer and dryer are both going. You thought you did all the laundry a few days ago. You peek into the washer and notice how red the water is. Tiffany must have been attacked by the creative spirit, gotten messy using some paint. 

You hope she didn’t use acrylics this time, the stains never come out. 

You walk through the house calling for your girlfriend. No answer. You step out onto the back porch and there she is. Bathed in the early afternoon sun. Your whole body relaxes when you see her in the garden, bent over, planting a whole new row of flowers. She’s absolutely covered in dirt. You smile, feeling happier than you have in ages. You rush out to join her in the sunlight and throw your arms around her. 

“I love you, Tiff.” You cover her face in kisses, ignoring the dirt.

“I love you too, baby-doll. I love you more than anything.” Tiffany kisses you back, sweet and passionate. Playfully, she spins you to lay beneath her and revels in the sound of your carefree, shrill laughter. 

She hopes they can hear you, just barely, through the layers of dirt she buried them in. With their last breath she hopes they hear your laughter and realize they didn’t break you. 

JORDAN LI:

You weren’t answering your phone. Not their calls. Not their texts. It was enough to have them shrugging on their jacket and stomping out of their dorm into the cool night air.

They’d had a bad feeling about letting you go out alone tonight. You always partied together. Usually with Jordan’s friends, who had become yours. Jordan hated the old group you used to run with. Disloyal. Stupid. Selfish. Now she wishes you’d at least taken one of those fake groupies. At least then you wouldn’t be alone. 

She walks through the party, a brick wall, shoving people aside as she calls your name. Anxiety prickles the skin at the back of her neck. She jogs up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She throws open door after door, music from the party too loud to even fucking think. 

Jordan’s angrier by the second, wondering if something happened to you. She hopes you just lost your phone. If someone stole it she’ll break their fucking jaw. 

The last door in the hallway, she sees two bodies on the floor, one moving against the other in the dim light. She rolls her eyes about to slam the door shut and go look for you in the kitchen again. As she goes to close the door she stops dead when she hears a whimper from the floor. The tiniest noise of pain, a drowsy “stop”. The scene looks different now.

She steps into the room, forgetting about you for one second, heart pounding in her ears. Jordan pulls the person on top off by their hair, hard enough to hurt. When she sees it’s Rufus she let’s out a laugh of anger and blasts him across the room with her power. Hard enough that he leaves a dent in the wall. 

Jordan turns to the person on the ground, hoping the short distance between them and Rufus will make his fucking pheromone bullshit wear off. 

“Are you-” Her blood stops. It’s you, on the floor. Your outfit torn and ripped. Tears are running down your cheeks but your eyes still have that drugged shimmer that might as well be that walking roofie’s calling card. 

“Jordan?” You mumble from the floor, dazed and confused. 

Rufus makes a sound from across the room, getting to his feet. Jordan stops breathing as she turns. They make eye contact. Fear in one pair. Anger so strong it’s inhuman, in the other.

Jordan’s across the room in an instant. Her fist breaks his jaw with the first blow. Everything after that is a blur. She comes back to herself when she feels a stabbing pain shoot through her fist and she pulls her hand away with a hiss. Bone fragment cutting into her hand. 

The haze of the rage falls away and Jordan realizes how wet she feels.  She looks down at her clothes. Sees how soaked in blood they are. Then her eyes fall to the mess she’s left on the floor. She almost throws up. Shakes her hands and feels brain matter slide off of them.

She thinks, what the fuck did I just do? What the fuck did I just do? 

“Jordan?” You call from across the room, sounding less drugged. 

She looks over at you and tears burn her eyes. Numb, she climbs off the body and rushes to you, looking you over. The tears fall when she sees the bruises, the small cuts. You must’ve fought him, even through the haze of his powers. You’ve always been a fucking fighter. She should have fucking been here. She doesn’t want to touch you with the blood on her hands but you don’t give her a choice, falling into her arms sobbing. She forces back her own. This is her fault. You’re the only one who deserves to cry. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jordan mumbles, hands shaking as they leave bloody smears across your skin. What else can she say?

NANCY DOWNS:  

Secret keeping doesn’t work with Nancy. No matter how small of a secret, or a lie, she can sniff it out. Furthermore she hates when you lie. About anything. You should always tell each other the truth. You're one soul in two separate bodies, as far as Nancy is concerned. 

Even before she did the spell to bind you to one another permanently. 

Because of the magic she can feel what you’re hiding now. She had a suspicion before. But now she knows. Now she fucking knows. She’s furious, and heartbroken, and she knows. 

You still try and hide it, though. As if you can hide anything from the other half of your fucking soul.  

“Enough, Y/N.” She spits at you one night, when you’re trying so hard not to think about it. Not to feel. 

She doesn’t know why you’re blocking her out. Not letting her feel it with you. Whatever you suffered. Whatever harm that befell you it would be avenged times three if you just let her in.

Nancy’s magic has always been stronger. She was being kind before. Hoping you would come to her on your own. She sees now that you need to be encouraged. She’s still gentle, somehow, as she invades the sanctity of your mind. For one instant your consciousness is her consciousness, and you’re both one being, sharing every thought and feeling. 

She sees it. Feels it. Lives what you lived, in that single moment. She pulls herself out of your mind, eyes hauntingly empty. They meet yours, register you, and fill with tears slowly. You reach out, in sync and Nancy pulls you to her. You can’t tell apart the sounds of your voices as you start to scream and sob. 

You pass out, eventually. Either from exhaustion or a spell Nancy placed on you. You wake in your shared bed to her standing over you, covered in blood. A knife in one hand, something meaty and dripping in the other. When your eyes adjust fully to the moonlight you realize it’s a human heart. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. You're safe now. You’ll always be safe, with me. You understand?” Nancy coos, petting your face with the hand holding the knife. It cuts you. You start to cry and you’re not sure if it’s from relief. 

JENNIFER CHECK:

You come home from the party you attended quietly. You open the door without a sound. Kick off your shoes. Put down your bag. You’ve shut yourself into the bathroom before she can even ask how it went. Immediately, her hackles are up. Irritation and concern. You know she hates being ignored. You never ignore her. You didn’t even say hello. 

Jennifer knocks on the bathroom door, trying to keep her voice playful as she asks what your deal is. You don’t respond. The sound of running water is the only thing she can hear. She pounds on the door, getting nervous. 

Then she picks up the smell of prey. You smell like prey. Dried sweat perfumes your skin, the sweetest smelling kind, that only one emotion causes: primal fear. The faintest whiff of blood and tears.

She breaks down the door. You don’t even notice. Don’t even look away from the mirror. You just go on trying to wipe the blood from your face. Your lip is busted. Hair a tangled mess. Scrapes along your cheek and neck, collarbone. Your clothes are a mess too. Rips and tears in fabric that was pristine a few hours ago.

“Baby?” Jennifer says again, feeling sick. Still nothing. 

She reaches out to touch you, gently. You come alive, jolting away from her with a scream. It’s the type of fear she’s heard a thousand times. Right before she rips out an organ or a throat. 

It’s the breaking of a dam and you fall to the ground, sobbing, still trying to wipe away at your skin. Any bit of skin you can reach. Jennifer tries to wrestle the rag from you. You’re being too rough, you're only human. You’re so breakable. You fight against her, sobs getting louder. 

“Baby stop fighting me!” Jennifer begs, uncharacteristically.  Between your sobs she makes out the words of you needing to clean yourself and her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t know she was capable of tears still.

“Stop.” Jennifer commands, voice going inhuman, harmonic. You go still, entranced by the full force of her power. Jennifer feels the tears falling down her cheeks. Watches your own tears cut bloody, miserable lines down your face. 

She takes the rag and gently wipes at your cuts. She peels away your ruined clothes. Starts the bath and places you inside it. Every time her hold on your mind starts to wane, and that animal fear of harm kicks back in, she speaks to you. She doesn’t let the control slip until your body stops secreting that awful smell of terror. 

“Who did this, baby?” She asks quietly, trying not to focus on the haunted look on your face. 

You don’t answer her. She swallows. 

“That’s okay, baby. I’ve got the scent anyways.” She tucks you into bed, orders you into a dreamless sleep that you couldn’t hope to fight off. 

She doesn’t come back home until the morning. The blood beneath her fingernails makes her itch. The smell of the monster she killed is putrid in her nose. She showers under water so hot it singes even her skin. When she crawls into bed beside you, before she falls asleep, she thinks about how hungry she is. She curls her entire body around yours.

She hadn’t been able to stomach even the thought of eating your fucking rapist. 

CARRIE WHITE:

You’d just moved into this house together. It was a nice enough neighborhood. Cozy. Nothing too big or expensive. The dorms at university had been too loud and hectic for Carrie. For this semester you’d decided you needed to build a life together. 

She’d never been happier than she was while painting the walls with you. Picking out lamps, and blankets, and a shoe rack. She remembers the way she’d used telekinesis to haul the heavy couch inside while the two of you held your hands underneath and pretended to carry it. The elderly neighbors all watching from their porches with dropped jaws. When you took one hand away to wave at them Carrie had to rush you both inside before she actually dropped the couch from laughing. 

You went to class together. Cooked and cleaned side by side. Carrie tailoring clothes for money and you tutoring. It was good. Life was good. After years of suffering, you were her heaven on Earth. 

Carrie came home from grocery shopping, humming quietly to herself. She knew you were home but didn’t call out for you. You’d told her you were tutoring someone this afternoon. Some of the subjects required a lot of focus, especially if you were already struggling with the material. She’d brought extra snacks in case they were hungry. 

She set the groceries down in the kitchen and walked into the living room. She froze in her tracks. You were there, and there was your student, on top of you. You locked eyes with Carrie, over their shoulder. They were holding you down. You’d been gagged to keep you from screaming. So the neighbors wouldn’t hear.

They were assaulting you in your own home. In the home you shared with her. Her vision whited out. 

She came to with your hands gently shaking her awake. She screamed when she saw you. You were covered in blood. In gore, and chunks of flesh. The sight alone brought back such horrible memories she turned over and threw up. You held her hair back, as if the blood on your hands was less awful than vomit. 

She tried to look…. To see what she’d done. But you won’t let her look past you. You’re sobbing and still trying to protect her. Even though she hadn’t protected you. Her whole world. Her angel, that God sent her, and she’d let you be defiled. She’d failed you. 

You fall apart in each other’s arms, trying to ignore the headless body a few feet away.

GINGER FITZGERALD:

You’d thought she’d under-reacted, when you told her. ‘She’s being unusually calm’ was your exact thought. But you were so tired, after years of holding in the dark secret. You were just relieved to have her acceptance, without hesitation, without disgust. 

She asked no questions that could leave you wondering about anything. On whether or not she thinks it’s your fault. If she thinks you should’ve fought back harder. If she thinks you’re weak. Tainted. Dirty. She says all the perfect words, everything you’ve ever needed to hear. She held you close and whispered them, and kissed you the same as always. 

She treats you no differently. You let yourself soften in the reality of a devotion that only Ginger can give. 

But you knew she was under-reacting. 

You walk into your living room a week later and see Ginger sitting on the couch, your rapist beaten within an inch of their life, bound and gagged at her feet. Her face lights up when she sees you. She grins like a wolf, canines sharper than usual. 

She stomps on their head as she skips to greet you, grabbing you by the hips. She ignores your gaping mouth when she kisses your cheek affectionately, “Brought you a little gift, baby.” 

“I almost just killed them, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted-”

“Wanted to what, Ging?” You cut her off, breathless, eyes glued to that hauntingly familiar face.

“Wanted the chance to make them suffer, before they die.” Ginger whispers, staring at you so lovingly you almost start to cry.

You tug her into your arms and laugh wetly when she starts to purr. You can see the way her tail wags beneath her skirt. She’s always so eager to please.

“I don’t know if I can do that, Ginger.” You admit into the skin of her neck. 

“Sure you can.” Ginger coos, taking you by the hands and leading you over to the shivering body on the ground. “I’ll show you how.”

She takes off the gag so you can hear the screams better. 

[whiteoakoak]

Yeah I can fix them

Them: .....

[roxierae]

jj had been having nightmares…

but not your stereotypical night terrors, like showing up to school naked or getting chased by a serial killer. something much more unsettling and equally arousing would haunt his dreams every night. working him up and leaving just before he got his fill.

leaving him to wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air with a painfully hard dick beneath his sweat shorts. the first time it happened, he didn’t take too much notice of the dream, putting it down to the fact he hadn’t got a lay in a week or so.

his eyes fluttered open softly, taking in his surroundings, a little disoriented from sleep. he rubs a hand over his eye groaning softly as his eyes flit to the little alarm clock on the bedside table.

3:08AM

he squints against the light, the letters in big red bold, flashing dimly from years of use. his eyelids suddenly feel heavy again, a quiet lure into slumber as he gives in, humming softly in content as he rolls onto his back.

“hello jj.” his eyes snap open impossibly fast and he’s scurrying to the other side of the room the voice was heard, tripping over all the shit that scattered across the chateau guest room floor with an “oh- fuck!” followed by a string of other curses before smacking his back into the wall, eyes wide and vigilant.

“you don’t have to be scared of me.” the voice speaks again, and he freezes up as you come into view, having flicked on the little bedside lamp to lighten up the room. “yo- what.. the fuck.” he thinks outloud, eyes flicking all over the girl.

her predatory eyes trained on his, lips dripping with a familiar red liquid he could only assume was blood, grinning at him. he’s so fucking scared he can’t even move. he watches, completely frozen as the red liquid drips down between the valley of her breasts, staining the white lingerie they were prettily adorned in.

he’s not sure what he’s feeling but he can feel all the blood rushing from his face to his dick, leaving him pale as a ghost and hard as a rock. your grin never falters and your eyes never leave his as you approaches him, his breath hitches in his throat, fear consuming his senses completely, but no matter how much he tries to move his legs, they’re stuck in place.

he shakes his head as much as he can, but his vision is distorted and he seems to be moving in slow motion, eyes wide as your body finally presses against his, staining his bare chest with the blood smattered against your pretty tits, the only sound in the room being your mixed breathing.

“shhh..” you comfort, practically smelling the fear radiating off of him. bringing a red stained hand to stroke at the hair at the back of his neck, sharp fingernails scratching at his scalp. you feel the outline of his cock resting against your lower stomach, giving an experimental roll of your hips to test him. he lets out a choked little whimper and you smirk, the sound only fuelling you more.

“are you scared?” you whisper breathily into his ear, so close he can feel your hot breath against his cheek. “yeah- yeah. shit.” he whispers out, hand visibly shaking by his sides as he attempts to calm his breathing.

you nod with a grin, pulling your face away from his neck to look him in the eye, his fearful ones meeting your own amused ones. “you know how i know that jj?” you whisper, mouth returning to gently suckle at the pulse point below his ear, awaiting his answer.

“uh- ‘s it because ‘m shakin’?” he slurs out, little sounds of pleasure slipping from between his rubied lips, you pull away slowly with a satisfied hum, a string of saliva connecting you to him as you shake your head with a devilish smile, slowly sinking to your knees.

“nope.” you reply promptly, popping the ‘p’, eyes still trained on his as your knees hit the cold floor. “i can smell it.” you whisper out, fingernails dragging across his lower stomach, the muscle tensing rapidly. he looks down at you, fearful eyes watching as you absentmindedly tongue at a splatter of blood at the corner of your mouth, seemingly focused on something else.

your fingernail slowly drags down, down, down until it’s tracing over his hardened dick, circling around the sticky tip as he whimpers, biting his lip to conceal his pleasure, hands grasping for anything to hold onto to stop his knees from buckling at just how desperate he was for it.

he couldn’t form a coherent thought, a multitude of emotions swirling around in his brain as he gawks at you below him. fear, arousal, panic, desperation, amazement, but mostly lust.

it consumed him like he never had before, watching without a word as you dip your fingers below the waistband of his sweat shorts, your eyes flicking up to his go grasp his reaction, a hungry grin painted across your spit-slicked lips.

“you ready for me, jj?” you ask sweetly, a smile laced in your tone as you look up at him through smattered together lashes. he nods urgently, eyes glazed over. “gonna make you feel so good, i promise.” you smile, dragging his waistband further down, his hard cock springing out, his tip an angry red colour, and visibly leaking.

“please..” he whispers out. your eyes light up at his pleas as you drag your thumb gently across his leaning slit, collecting the pre-cum and bringing it to your lips. he lets his head fall back against the wall, a quiet groan escaping his lips at the feeling, his adams apple bobbing gently as he hums.

his eyes slip closed as he revels in the pleasure you’re giving him, a white hot burn rising in his lower stomach and he lets it happen, in this moment he wants nothing more than to cum.

he feels your hands leave him, whispering out little pleas for you to stay but when his eyes open again, he’s back in his bed, the room bathed in an orange glow that tells him it’s the early morning.

his eyebrows knit together in confusion as he checks the room for any sign of you. nothing. no scattered clothing or a knocked down lamp, everything was exactly as he’d left it the night before.

the realisation dawns on him that it was just a dream, and part of him is relieved, but a much bigger part of him is disappointed, the wet patch adorning his crotch and the hardest morning wood he’d ever had was the most he had to show the fact you were the best wet dream he’d ever experienced.

this was the first time he’d met you, he knew it was stupid, but deep down he hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

[sp1der-wid0w]

ACHOO! BABY I’M SICK

starring….

jennifer check. miles morales. patrick bateman. maddy perez. miguel o’hara.

𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬

★ She’s definitely grossed out, and immediately stays away from you for at least a few days.

★ Though she gives in, and finally comes to see you.

★ She acts annoyed, and is nonchalant with all of your sneezing and moans about how terrible you feel. But deep down, she’s so sad to see her precious baby so ill and tortured.

★ The least she’ll do for you, is go to the gas station and get you soup in a can. But first, she’ll have to seduce the cash register to let her get it for free.

★ When you ask her for anything else, she’ll reluctantly do it for you. As you feel sleepy, she’ll give in and give you a kiss goodnight.

𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘻

★ “Aww, poor baby.” She coos, while she rubs your hair.

★Whoever she was planning on hanging out with, like Cassie, Rue, or Feszco, she’s cancelling out on them, just for you.

★She goes into momma bear mode, and buys you some snacks, and make sure to take your temperature. You were so grateful for this, that you got such a beautiful, loyal, devoting girlfriend.

★ “Won’t Cassie be upset that you’re not there with her?” you asked.

★ “Cassie can handle a few minutes without me, tonight, it’s all about you.” She says, smirking her lips.

𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴

★ When you call him to tell him you’re sick, he immediately webslings over to your place, and goes to give you company.

★ He puts his hand above your head, and looks at you with such devotion.

★ “Won’t you get sick too?” You moan.

★ “Nahh, I won’t.” He chuckles.

★ For the whole day, he stays by your place, doing whatever you asked him too, from covering you with extra blankets, putting on your favorite anime, and just telling you the drama at school.

★ When it comes to saving the day, he has to make a choice between taking care of you, or saving Brooklyn.

★ “Miles.” You choke. “I’ll be fine— Go save Brooklyn.”

★ He sighs, before kissing the tip of your forehead and slinging away. “Call me if you need anything.” He calls, on the way out of your window.

𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯

★ Sends you $500 on cashapp, and texts you don’t talk to him when you feel better.

𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘖’𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢

★ When he hears of your sickness, he brings you to HQ, and carries you to the infirmary.

★ You complain that you want Miguel to be on your side, but he justifies that he has some multiverse work to do.

★ Eventually after many complains from Peter and Jess and you, he goes to visit you in the infirmary, and gives you a box of tissues, as well as some water.

★ He gives you some words of reassurance, trying to make you feel better at least. He makes sure that LYLA stays at your side, and tells him about your temperature.

★ When he takes his time off work, he goes by your side and caresses your face.

“Mig..” You groaned, then sneezed. “I.. I wanna feel better.”

He simply grunts.

“You’ll feel better, mi sol. LYLA and the doctors will take care of you. In the meantime, you need anything?”

You give him a cheeky look, and few minutes later, he comes back to your side with a bunch of teddy bears, soup bars, candy and chocolates, and a reaallll sour expression on his face.

“I wuvvv you, Miggy.”

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Property of Jennifer ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Jennifer's Body Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Jennifer Check x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Jennifer fingers you under the table while you're on a date... with someone else.

CW: DubCon, Toxic!Jennifer, Jealous!Jennifer, hidden-public, exhibitionism?, fingering, mention of spanking, reader goes on a date with a guy (the scene still makes sense if you're not into guys though)

Adam was the worst kind of jock stereotype. A total idiot. Somewhat charming until anything didn’t go his way. A guy who made it his goal in life to sleep with as many women as possible and then slut-shamed the few he actually got under his belt.

He wasn’t your type in more ways then one, yet on a Friday night you could’ve spent doing anything else… you were sitting across from him at a shitty diner, helping him stumble through small talk.

You blamed Jennifer entirely.

If she hadn’t of fucked and ghosted you AGAIN, you wouldn’t of been so desperate to get her out of your system that you’d say yes to the first loser to ask you out.

Adam wasn’t your main concern at that moment though. Your main concern was the devil herself, striding into the diner you knew she hated in the shortest skirt she owned …and for the first time in a week she was looking right at you.

Your attention had been wavering all night but you must of been obvious that time because Adam checked over his shoulder, following your gaze  and catching sight of Jennifer a second before she arrived at your booth.

“Oh my god, hi!”

That valley-girl voice of hers made your heart flutter but you knew to raise your guard.

“Jennifer, hi… what are you doing here?”

She laughed, a plastic sound. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The thought of deflecting as skilfully as she had done was appealing, but instead you ripped the Band-Aid off. You were done caring about what she thought.

“I’m on a date actually.”

The strain in her smile wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t watching her reaction so carefully.

“Oh, where’s your date?” She looked around, eyes very obviously passing over the man in front of you.

Oof. You didn’t exactly like the guy but you felt a secondhand sting at that. Cringing, you shot Adam an apologetic look as he waved a hand to get her attention.

“Uhh that’d be me.” 

“Oh!” 

Despite her passive-aggressive tone, her big glossed smile softened the blow. It made it hard to be mad at her. At least it did until she turned her head away from him to mouth “yikes.”

Suddenly she sat down cramped against you, hand dropping to your thigh. “Well I’m just waiting on my own date. Mind if I sit with you guys for a few minutes?”

You didn’t know what made you tenser, wondering where the hell she was going with this or the hand caressing your thigh.

“Well, like I said we’re on a date. So actually-“

Said date cut you off as he leered, slack-jawed at Jennifer. “It’s fine. What’s a few minutes?“

You gritted your teeth, mind badgering you with images of all the other places you could’ve been that night. “Why do you even want to sit here?”

She groaned. “He said it’s fine. Take a chill pill.”

Jennifer’s words were accompanied by a squeeze to your thigh and you jumped. It didn’t hurt but you felt your skin buzz under her touch, heat spreading low in your stomach.

Jennifer’s attention seemed to go back to Adam but that didn’t stop her from keeping yours with her hand inching up your skirt.

“So, I didn’t catch your name.”

He frowned, a crack in his horny haze. “Are you serious? Adam… We sat together in chem?”

“Okay, geez, don’t go stalker-boy on me.”

Her tone was just light enough to let the comment slide, but you could almost physically feel the mood slowly sinking.

She turned to you, face too innocent to have her hand so close to your privates. “What about you, how’d you two meet? Was he hanging outside your house with binoculars and a stiffy?”

“We also met in chem.” He answered for you. His tone was dryer, welcome already wearing thin. 

Apparently Adam’s ego was the one thing stronger than his libido. 

Unlike yours. Jennifer’s wandering hand was dangerously close to making you forget that you were even mad at her.

“I’m sorry, was I asking you?” She leant into you, ‘whispering’ at a volume you were sure the next table over could hear. “Does he always talk over you like that?”

The question and the underlying insult went over your head. Feeling Jennifer’s breath on your neck clouded your brain and feeling the tip of her finger begin dragging up your slit through your panties short-circuited it.

Fortunately a waitress came over, putting a pause on the tension at the table. Unfortunately that was when Jennifer’s finger reached your clit.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you bit your lip to keep back a moan. This was way too risky. The waitress would move on from Adam to one of you any second.

“What are you doing?” You hissed against Jennifer’s ear.

Unfazed she whispered back. “You’re lucky I’m not bending you over my knee.”

Then she turned back, looking the picture of innocence when the waitress addressed her.

“Anything for you, Dear?”

The woman looked so demure and unassuming. You had no idea how Jennifer could look her in the eye while drawing circles on your clit.

“Actually she’s only staying a few-“ Adam started.

“I’ll take a coffee.” Jennifer interrupted, smiling brightly.

“It’s a little late. Do you want that decaf?”

“No. I’m not planning on doing much sleeping tonight.” The subtext in that sentence embarrassed you enough but then Jennifer turned to you. “You want anything else? My treat.”

That sent the waitresses gaze your way and your face burned. You really didn’t want a stranger looking at you right now.

“No thanks.”

You cursed your squeaky, cracking voice and averted your eyes as quickly as possible.

Even with your awkward position limiting her, it was like Jennifer’s touch electrified you. An overwhelming pleasure followed her fingertips and you could only swallow your reactions to it for so long.

As the waitress went on her way Jennifer tugged at your panties and mindlessly taking the cue you raised your hips just enough for her to pull them to your knees.

That was when Adam’s focus returned to the two of you and you startled, realising what the fuck you were doing.

He was totally gonna catch you!

But then Jennifer’s fingers pushed inside of you, curving and making you see stars, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could only spread your legs wider and silently pray you didn’t look as wrecked as you felt.

“Okay, I’m sorry, how long were you planning on staying? Don’t you have a date coming?” Adam huffed.

“Yeah.” She looked slyly at you “any second now.”

You writhed in your seat. Embarrassment, guilt and so much lust created a boiling hot cocktail inside of you.

“Whatever.” He sighed, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling.

Jennifer snuck her other hand under the table and you gasped loudly at sudden, rough friction against your clit. 

Sure enough that caught other patrons attention. As people glanced at you you didn’t know what you wanted more… to cum or for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“Hey, you good?” Adam asked.

“Yeah… yeah, just um, water went down the wrong pipe.”

You hadn’t touched your glass since Jennifer showed up but you trusted he wouldn’t of payed enough attention to know that.

“You should be more careful.” Jennifer said, tone loaded in way that made you squirm.

It was really, really hard to be careful with the high she was working you into. It was too much, the way she massaged your g-spot while three flat fingers rubbed quickly over your pussy. 

Hellish heat overtook you as she brought you over the edge. It took everything in your power to keep your mouth shut, face pointing down to hide your shame.

You gripped the table like a lifeline as pulse after pulse of pleasure rocked your body. Her touch became almost overstimulating.

You felt Jennifer’s breath on your ear before you heard her silky, hushed voice “You’re mine. Got it? Don’t forget that again.”

Cool air hit your warm centre as she pulled out and you nodded eagerly. Thrumming with the aftershocks of orgasm you barely registered Adam’s voice.

“Hey what’s up with all the whispering? I swear, you’d think you were on a date with Jennifer.”

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Headcanons for Jennifer Check with an autistic S/O?

I love this idea so much- I took inspiration from some of my own experiences so this might not apply to everyone but I certainly did my best! I really hope you like it <3

Jennifer Check with an autistic s/o

Warnings: brief mention of meltdowns/sensory overloads, references to ableism/ignorant people, very brief (somewhat) joking mention of committing murder (it's Jenny, what do you expect), very salty and blunt language that I'm honestly not even sorry for

I honestly think Jennifer would appreciate dating an autistic person, especially if you're the type who's very straight forward or overly blunt about things

She probably thought you were a bit of a bitch at first I'm not gonna lie lol, but she makes that assumption about pretty much everyone when she first meets them

You'd seen each other around school before but your first real conversation was when you were paired up for some sort of science project. She was not looking or feeling like her typical hot and fabulous self, and while you weren't the first to notice you were the only one brave enough to point it out

"Have you been getting enough sleep recently? You have really heavy bags under your eyes"

Jennifer wanted to snap at you at first, thinking you were being sarcastic (because obviously she had bags under her eyes, she didn't need anyone pointing it out) but much to her surprise you didn't look like you were making fun of her. In fact, you seemed a little concerned

"Your hair looks pretty damaged." You continued, oblivious to the look of utter shock on her face that you would actually say something like that out loud. "If using both shampoo and conditioner is too much of a trouble I can recommend some two-in-one products. Or you can always use dry shampoo in between washes"

The woman was too stunned to speak. All she was able to do was mutter an awkward "thank you", something that you simply nodded your head at before turning the conversation back over to the project

She gained a lot of respect for you that day, as you were the only person who wasn't afraid to say what everyone was thinking (though she soon learned this was due to you not knowing what was and wasn't considered 'appropriate' to say)

Out of everyone, you're the one person Jennifer goes to (other than maybe Needy) when she needs an honest opinion on something because you won't lie to spare her feelings or try to flatter her

"Which tank top do you think I should wear to school tomorrow, the pink one or the black one?"

"Well, the pink one makes you look like slut. But the black one makes you look like both a slut and a bitch, too"

"Perfect. Black it is, then"

If you ever accidentally make a situation awkward or uncomfortable by your comments or questions you won't even have to worry about being embarrassed because she'll immediately come out with saying something so bitchy and/or vulgar that whatever you said looks innocent in comparison and is forgotten about right away

She'll get very protective if people try to purposely make you feel bad for the out of pocket things you say. After all, you're just telling people the truth, it's not their fault if they can't handle a dose of reality (her words, not mine)

Even though she loves to party she'll most likely either tone it down or just stop going altogether when she finds out you don't like them all that much because of the loud music, bright lights, small spaces crowded with lots of drunk people, etc. She'd rather be with you any way

Always lets you infodump to her about your newest interest or favorite thing, which truly shows just how much she loves you as she usually always has to be the one dominating any conversation she's a part of. Sometimes you wonder if she ever really listens until she gets you something relating to your latest hyperfixation and then you're like "ah okay so she does care :D"

Honestly she's such a trashy mcbling y2k girly (canon, she told me herself) that I feel like she's the type of person to buy you stim/fidget toys and then help you 'bling' them out by gluing on fake rhinestones and such because "you can't just walk around with boring accessories"

Is she the type of person to tease you/make a bunch of sex jokes if you have an oral fixation? Yes. Will she start carrying around lollipops, gum, chew rings, etc. in her purse to give to you when you're feeling distressed in a public place? Also yes

Totally understands if you don't like/can't eat certain foods due to pickiness, especially if this is after her demon possession. She goes out of her way to make sure the pantry is stocked with your safe foods and all your favorite snacks for whenever you come over so you won't run out of them

She may not be the best at comforting you if you're in the middle of a meltdown/sensory overload or if you start crying (especially if it's over something small) but she tries her best to be gentle, not wanting to accidentally make things worse. If you need physical comfort then she'll gladly let you wrap your arms around her and get as close as possible, but if not then she'll stay a safe distance away while trying to cheer you up with words of encouragement

Absolutely hates ableist people. Hates and will eat them /hj. She can't stand when people make you feel bad for not understanding certain phrases or not being able to pick up on social cues

If you're ever confused on something then she takes the time to explain it to you, and yes this includes her sarcasm. She can't stop being sarcastic for anyone, including you (sorry) but she can make accomadations so you don't feel stupid or left out

Jennifer finds your stimming so adorable, especially if you do it when you're excited to see her. The fact that you get so happy you have to make a physical show of it just to get the extra energy out warms her cold, otherwise unfeeling and bitchy heart

If you're a really physically affectionate person then she one hundred percent welcomes it and allows you to touch her at literally any given moment no matter where you are. If not, then that's all the more reason for her to feel special and loved if you ever do give her, say, a hug, especially if you have an aversion to touch

Speaking of which, if there are any clothes of hers that you don't like because the texture of it bothers you/makes your skin crawl then she simply won't wear them around you, and might even get rid of them so you can feel more comfortable touching her. This includes making sure her bed always has the coziest pillows and blankets and comfiest sheets for whenever you spend the night

Overall I think Jen would love you no matter what personality quirks you may have regarding being autistic, and she would never fail to tell you just how much she loves you for them

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

[phntmeii]

Slashers x Naïve!Sunshine!SO

Absolutely must protect SO at all costs. Keeps their SO away from their work so they stay innocent.

Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Completely infatuated with their SO. Their work centers around their SO, specifically against love interests or harmful people.

Billy Loomis, Brahms Heelshire, PostMichael!Corey Cunningham, Jennifer Check, Stu Macher

Doesn’t care to keep them away from their work. Takes their trusting personality as an opportunity to manipulate them as an alibi/helper.

Billy Lenz, Bo Sinclair, Freddy Krueger, Hannibal Lecter, Michael Myers, Patrick Bateman