#slasher x male reader slasher x reader

[ilovelosermen69]

Girls when he does the bare minimum in fanfiction

[sleep-0-deprived]

Bottom Yandere slasher x final boy male reader head cannons~! ૮ ོ≧ ⩊ ≦ ོ𑁬

blowjobs, knife play, degrading, large bottom, small top ⋆���ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

You were out and about camping on a little trip with your friends when he first had seen you, staring and blinking over at you like a frog. Something inside his cold body came back to life like a zombie breathing air once again. He had to have you and he would have you no matter what he had to do or who he had to clear. Taking you in the middle of the night after dealing with your friends, he’d have you dragged back to his cabin and just stare at your sleeping form for hours.

He’d blink over at you blushing under his mask obsessing over your every muscle and your short frame, you woke up screaming shouting any sort of insult just trying to escape only to fail each time with him frowning and locking you back up in his bedroom. “I’m not your fucking pet you big idiot! You can’t keep me!” You’d shout at him angrily but he’d only tilt his head as though he didn’t understand what you were speaking to him but he did understand you were upset by the tone you were using.

The slasher would keep you for months, he’d feed you and cling to you leaving you never alone because he was by your side each and every hour of the day. His arms held you in a bone crushingly tight spooning position in bed leaving you conflicted on how you could fall for a man like him? Maybe you were in live or maybe it was all the stressful hormones combined with the built up Stockholm syndrome that had you all over him by the end of the second month.

The first time you had sex with him was during your most recent escape, you found his knife, you tried to attack him from behind but with his tall stature you failed only having him on top of you pinning you to the ground. not before you shoved the knife against him threatening him going feral in anger. The hard feeling beneath you is what brought your mind to a clearer thinking. He was hard, how could he possibly be hard in a situation like this? You just tried to kill him and make your escape “are you seriously fucking hard right now? You’re a horny gain arent’cha!” You’d mock him feeling a smile creeping on your face.

Not even thirty minutes later you’re completely stripped holding him up on top of you with your hand shakily holding the knife to his thigh only grunting when he lifts himself up and down on your cock “o-oh shit, wasn’t expecting this” the slasher is even more infatuated with you at this point, the size of your cock had him intimidated at first when he seen a proud seven and a half— eight inches when hard cock looking at him for the first time since this was his first sexual encounter, shockingly sex wasn’t common for a crazed serial killer.

After that moment on the kitchen floor of his cabin this man’s silent and cold demeanor shifts into more, you fucked him into being domestic, wanting to make you happy trying to get you to want to willingly stay with him even if it means he had to please you. His face in your balls with his knife thrown to the ground while he attempts to give you a blow job “c’mon you can take a little more right, you’re a big man so shove it a little down that throat” you couldn’t help but be cruel to him with your hand gripping the rubber backing of his mask and forcing his face down on your crotch reminding him that while he kidnapped you, he lacked all his control when you were in the mix.

When you finally come around to the slasher, you’re grueling with him in sex, your arms would wrap around his body jerking your hips harshly between his thighs fucking him like a manic and pulling his mask back making him groan feeling more exposed and vulnerable before you, “are all serial killers preening sluts?” You couldn’t help but just egg him, not when you felt his walls gripping you back every time you spoke them making you a mess burying your face into his chest heaving and moaning on top of him fucking him like you need it.

[2kiran]

18+ M!READER

“There you go, good boy.” His hand cups your jaw, his lips ghosting over your own before they settle on your cheek. He simply looked too good, acted too nice, and you weren’t able to resist. His tongue lazily drags all the way to your neck, latching onto a sweet spot as he teasingly rolls his hips.

You shudder, your hands curling around his thighs. “Stop callin’ me that—” you’re cut off by your own groan when he suddenly grounds down against your clothed cock. He softly chuckles, the husky timbre muffled. “Why, don’t you like bein’ told you’re good?” He grinds in small, tantalizing circles, paired with a harsh bite, “My good boy. C’mon, take everything I give you.”

[nobitchs-world]

Me: I love horror movie slashers

My scary ass if I ever saw them:

[pastelclovds]

3. “Please kiss me.” w/ brahms pls and ty

- 🛸

brahms didn’t have the best personal hygiene before he met you, but ever since you found out about the man hiding in the walls of the mansion you were supposed to watch over along with a doll version of brahms, you made it your life’s mission to make sure he bathes regularly.

brahms didn’t always comply though, and often threw tantrums unless you joined with him (which was very common, little pervy bastard). usually the washing started out innocently, until brahms turned it into a heated fuck session. this was no different.

brahms cries echoed throughout the walls of the bathroom, the warm water enveloping the both of you in the tub made his face flush a pretty shade of pink as he held onto your shoulders for dear life. the water splashes out of the tub as your pelvis claps against brahms’ ass.

brahms lets out delicate moans in your ear every time your cock jabs his prostate. your hands that were previously scrubbing his body were now holding onto his hips as you made him take your merciless thrusts. you couldn’t help but grin when you hear brahms sniff and begin to tear up in pleasure.

“you can’t seem to control yourself, huh? always grinding against my leg when i reach for the soap, like a little slut,” you rest your back on the wall beside the tub as your pace quickens. brahms pulls away from your ear, staring at you with glossy eyes, “i-i’m sorry, i can’t help it. you feel so- so good. please kiss me,” brahms pleads with you.

deciding to have mercy on the pretty man, you grab ahold of his damp curls and pulled him onto your lips for a kiss. you swallow brahms’ whines as he came onto his stomach and in the water. you follow suit as you slammed into him and released strand after strand of cum inside his ass until it spilled. making the once clean water, a white mess.

after a few minutes of basking in your shared climax, you let out a groan when brahms suddenly rolled his hips, and judging by his blissful smile: he wanted another round. you weren’t going to leave the bathroom for a while.

[marksbear2]

Soft dom Hannibal Lecter and crybaby mreader where he teach reader how to ride him 🙂‍↕️🏃‍♂️‍➡️🏃‍♂️‍➡️

HANNIBAL LECTER X CRYBABY MALE READER

⚠️Warnings- Soft dom Hannibal, talking through it, teaching, guiding, crying- and crying kink, shy reader. Naive/ Virgin reader. And etc ⚠️

Soft but muffled moaning and choked sobs could be heard inside of Doctor’s Lecter office. You were whimpering softly as Hannibal stared at he looking down at you in between his legs with your face all puffy and wet from crying as you had your lips wrapped around Hannibal’s cock.

Hannibal had his hand laying gently on your head but had a firm grip. You eyes still had tears falling from it from earlier.

You were crying and whining earlier as he was fingering you and stretching you out prepping for his cock.

Once he had decided that you were prepped enough he told you. “Isn’t it only fair that you give me something back?” 

That’s how you both ended it up now. Hannibal staring down at you while you trying the best of your ability to give him a blowjob.

You squirmed under his eyes, but tried to ignore his gaze. “Your teeth is grazing me. Relax. Stop thinking so hard.” Hannibal said as he used his free hand to pull you off his cock before moving his thumb inside your mouth pressing it against your tongue.

Hannibal stared down into your mouth for a few more seconds before pulling his hand away and grabbing your jaw guiding your mouth down on his cock. 

“Teeth, watch your teeth.” Hannibal said in a soft but firm tone. You slowly do as you said as you moved your tongue around his cock. 

Hannibal hands stayed where they were guiding you up and down on his cock. 

Your face was flustered as tears still went down as Hannibal cupping your cheeks, he could feel his own cock moving and moving the side of your cheeks with his cock making your mouth full.

With his large hands guiding your head, you let him do all the work while you just moved your tongue around.

Hannibal gently pushed your head away from his cock and adjust the way he’s sitting in the chair tapping his knee. You quickly scramble into his lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Hannibal puts his firm large hand on your hips holding you still as he used his free hand for hold and angle his large wet cock to your hole.

You were somewhat unaware, as he distracted you with comforting praises and words of affection.

“Take a deep breath for me darling.” Hannibal said, you do as he says before letting out a sharp gasp as you felt his cock slowly enter your walls.

“You can take it can’t you? Don’t want to disappoint me now would we?” Hannibal mused watching your face show many expression with uncertainty, uncomfortable and most of all pleasure. “We’re doing something more your pace.” Hannibal said as he raised you up and down on his cock.

“Shh, shh, your doing such an amazing job taking me.” Hannibal whispered against your ear as he began to move your body up down like an toy.

As you cried and whimpered softly Hannibal pressed his mouth against your ear soothing you with an hum.

His cock moving deeper and deeper inside of you as his large hands held you in a firm but gentle grip.

“Such a precious little thing…” 

”I would hate to ruin you…”

THE END

[magicalbunbun]

Y/n puts the red ribbon on stu and Billy!

Stu:

Very happy!

Billy:

Not so happy

[hhhijk]

u wanna play psycho killer?

Imagine..

Ghostface calling you on the phone, acting all high and mighty, only to be tied up with hands behind his back with only his Ghostface mask covering him as you milk his cock, riding him all night long, “You bitch.. untie me, when I get off of this I'll make you beg.” he groaned, struggling with the tight rope hugging his body, while you take your time edging him, taunting him, making him beg, whine, and whimper, you can't help it with the hitched breaths he takes every time you slam down on his dick, “please…” he whimpered, “what was that? speak louder” you teased “please… please just let me cum” he begged as you took off his mask, his eyes looking up at you pleading, with his tear-stained cheeks, red tinted nose and lips, he just looked sooo adorable, you can just eat him up. “Oh come on Mr Ghostface I thought you wanted me to be down on my knees and beg for mercy.” you scoffed bouncing up and down on him, poking fun at him not noticing the once-tight rope was now loose and slowly slipping away. Still being cocky and dominant until you get turned over and pinned with your back pressed against the bed “I told you I would” he grinned, gripping your wrist above your head, his knee between your legs “and you better beg good, to be on the sequel”

thx 2 @/plutism for the divider once again luv it

hi im not dead

[yanderefarm]

thinking about slasher!reader/scream queen actor

cw;; murder, blood mention, dub con, non con, knives, violence

a different format a little bit bc this is just living in my head

they're making a movie based on your actions so of course you have to go out and see what it's about. for the most part it's boring, the final boy isn't even your type. the 2nd victim though.. he gets all the sexy scenes. you watch him in a shower scene, you watch him throwing his head back as he acts out riding someone, you watch as a man that looks like you pretends to run him through with a machete. you know all the blood he's covered in is fake but fuck he's so hot.

after his death scene you can't help but follow him back to his trailer. you wait in silence for the make up crew to finish cleaning him up. once you hear him get in the shower you enter his trailer, knife in hand. as soon as he gets out of the shower he's coming into the main room in nothing but a towel. as soon as he sees you he jumps and opens his mouth to scream.

you slam him into the wall your large pressed against his mouth. you drag your knife up his stomach, careful not to cut into him.

"such a pretty victim... gonna be so good for me."

it's not a question but he nods anyway. you chuckle at him, watching his eyes widen when you drag your knife in a heart along his chest.

"i'll have to show everyone how pretty your guts are if you scream."

he nodded again. you eased your hand off his mouth slowly until you were certain he wasn't going to scream. you pulled your mask up enough to uncover your mouth so you could slam it against his. he was so pretty the way he moaned and clung to your neck. he was already hard under his towel when you ripped it off.

you slammed the pretty boy into the tiny couch as you kept kissing him. you had him bouncing on your cock in minutes, your knife pressed right against his throat as you pounded his ass. the pretty boy was loving it, he moaned like a pornstar and kept leaning back to get more hungry kisses from you. his cock would just flop uselessly between his legs even when he was cumming. he was so clearly loving being man handled and threatened, he got tighter everytime you let him feel the knife on his skin. he would moan when your large hands would grab to bruise. you were leaving bruises on his neck, his ass, his wrists. he was moaning so pretty.

you hadn't intended to do more than fuck his brains out but after tasting him and seeing what a good victim he really was you couldn't help yourself. you let him go back to his hotel room that night to clean up and get some clothes. he didn't try to scream when you broke in again, instead he got on his knees and looked up at you.

you held out your hand to him. "c'mon pretty victim... before i make you a pretty bloodstain."

"yes, sir"

ajax, suguru geto, argenti, pantalone, whitney, whoever you want 💖

[ilovelosermen69]

My emotional attachment to fictional men that kill people is insane.

[issdisgrace]

Y/n *out of nowhere*: If a 178lb person fell from a 15 floor building how many feet would they fall in a second

Hannibal: Where do these questions come from my love

Y/n: I don’t know, my brain

Hannibal: Sigh, they would fall about 15 feet per second meaning they would impact the ground in about 10 seconds.

Y/n: Cool

*Cue Y/n going back to what they were doing before their question*

[makeyoumine69]

Memory Reboot

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: You work at P&P, and one day you come into Bateman's office and witness his breakdown. Your attempts to comfort him only increase his obsession with you, and without realizing it, you push this man to his limits. The outburst that finds you both in a club called the Tunnel will change your lives forever and irrevocably.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, obsessive behavior, desperate-touch-starved Patrick, masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), aggressive foreplay, dirty talk, body worship, teasing, biting, drug usage, pet names.

WORDS: 3k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent - Memory Reboot

A/N: This is for my dear @iron-flavored-lipgloss! It was such a pleasure for me to write this for you! Enjoy!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [EDIT]

Patrick Bateman. What kind of a mess was this man? Chaotic, impulsive, pathetic? Or all of the above?

Smirking, you went to his office to deliver some documents you needed him to sign, but when you got there, you noticed that Jean — his lovely blonde assistant — was absent and the door to his office was suspiciously half open. It was strange, to say the least, but you just shrugged your shoulders and stood there for a while when you heard a loud thud coming through the door — the sound almost made you jump in surprise. 'What the hell?' You wondered as you approached the door, turning around to see if Jean was coming, but there was no sign of her. With measured steps you got closer to the hole in the open door and just peeked in out of curiosity, but the scene you saw was not what you expected — Bateman, all flushed and covered in sweat, was storming around his office, his hands desperately fumbling with his tie as if it was choking him.

Your reaction was quick, and you didn't even notice as you opened the door and stepped inside. "Bateman? Are you okay?"

The man stopped shaking the moment he heard your voice and leaned down on his desk. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to get your signature on some of my docs when I heard you crying,” you grinned, watching his face go pale. "What's wrong, Bateman? Did you miss your facial?" The way he balled his hands made you laugh. "But really, did something happen?"

"Yes," Patrick replied, looking at you and running his hand through his disheveled hair. "I mean...no...nothing happened…" You saw his lips tremble a little each time he spoke. "Gimme the docs."

Frowning in confusion, you pulled out a napkin and handed it to him instead, meeting his scornful gaze. "You're sweating…” You placed the white piece of cloth on his desk, only now noticing a small jar that you were sure was full of pills. "Maybe I should ask Jean to bring you some coffee? You look really sick..."

"No!" Bateman suddenly blurted out, pointing his finger at you. "I asked Jean to take the day off..."

"Hey, hey, relax," you raised your hands defensively. "Relax, I was just trying to help."

Slowly, you placed the folder of documents on his wooden desk, which he grabbed almost immediately, and your hands touched for a brief moment, and Bateman didn't flinch, and neither did you. 

"Take a seat." Patrick muttered incoherently.

"What?"

"Sit," he repeated irritably. "And wait."

His tumultuous behavior actually frightened you, but you did as he said and sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘My God, he really is mental, Tim was right.’

"What are these pills? Some vitamins?" You tried to keep the conversation alive, not even knowing why, as you watched his long, thin fingers floating across the pages.

Your question made him stop and look up at you. "That's none of your business, (y/n). I asked you to sit and wait, not ask me stupid questions."

‘Why does he look so cute when he's so angry?’ The thought brought a smile to your face, but then you zipped up your mouth theatrically and Bateman's office went silent for a while. And you used it to admire his perfect jawline, even though his brown hair was messy now, it looked so inviting to touch anyway.

"Is that all?" Bateman asked suddenly, arching his eyebrows and interrupting your train of thought.

"Uh, what?"

A prominent line appeared on Patrick's forehead — a testament to his annoyance. "Are you deaf or something?"

"Lemme see them," you pointed at the documents. "I want to make sure you put your cute sign on every page." Your playful tone made the line between Patrick's eyebrows even more noticeable. "I don't want to come back here."

Bateman didn't even try to jab back, his face still pale and sweaty, his eyes nothing but dark voids — oh, how fucking empty they were. Sighing heavily, Patrick raised his gaze when he heard the chair creak as you got up and walked around his desk. The sudden cut in the distance between the two of you was something Patrick didn't seem to be ready for, as his hands nervously gripped the armrests, but you pretended not to notice.

"We all feel down sometimes," you murmured over his ear, literally sensing the tension radiating from his body. "And that's okay." Placing your hand on his broad shoulder, you leaned down to look at the documents, surreptitiously inhaling the scent of his perfume mixed with his sweat. ‘Fuck, what am I doing?’

"I didn't know you had a part-time job as a therapist," he grumbled, examining your palm, wondering if he was going to kill you here and now, or keep you in here forever. "Listen, I have a reservation at Barcadia..."

"Mmm, Barcadia? Really?"

Bateman nodded and finally removed your hand. "Yes, I'm having lunch with Coutrney." 

"I wonder what Luis thinks of these lunches with his fiancé." You picked up the folder and stepped back from his armchair. "You don't feel guilty about sleeping with Coutrney behind his back, do you?"

Gritting his perfectly white teeth, the brown-haired man abruptly got up from his desk and stormed toward you, surely intending to yell at you or say something rude, but the moment he stopped directly across from you and your eyes met, Bateman's expression suddenly became lost and confused. "Just stop," he finally managed to mutter. "Stop poking around in my fucking head…" As you noticed his pupils widening, things were no longer funny to you. "Understand?"

‘Well, maybe turning it into a joke is not a bad plan,’ you hummed and nodded. "Sure, Bateman," you sneered a little nervously. "I'm just reading this book Timothy gave me," you slowly turned and walked to the door. "The book about Human Psychology." That was surely a joke, but judging by the serious look Patrick gave you, he didn't seem to get it.

"Tim gave you... a book?" He repeated, frowning in confusion and disbelief.

When you opened the door, you paused for a second, wanting to say something smart at the end. "Oh yeah. Why don't you ask him about it? Maybe he can recommend some books about... human relationships or something." And with that, you smiled in satisfaction at seeing Bateman's face quiver with anger before you left his office, leaving him with a raging tempest in his chest.

Later that day, Patrick couldn't sleep because his mind was so full of different thoughts, but the only thing they had in common was that they were all connected to you. You, you, you. The sound of running water echoed off the marble walls of his lavish bathroom as Bateman stood in the shower, enjoying the way the strong streams of cold water hit his back. Huffing, Patrick desperately scrubbed his skin as if it would help him get rid of the thoughts of you that haunted him the day he first met you — you were so cheeky, so sweet, everyone loved you and wanted to hang out with you. How fucking cute. Patrick groaned as he felt a throb at the base of his hard cock, God, he felt like it was hard all the time and no sex could help him with that because all those people, they weren't you. 

"Argh, fuck," he groaned as he finally allowed himself to touch his twitching dick and give it a few strokes. 

"F-fuck..." Bateman pumped his length rhythmically, recoiling at the memories of today, the way you put your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on the back of his neck. And what would it feel like if you had placed your hand on his chest, or run it over his abdomen and then down? 

"Uh, a-ahhh," the man moaned louder, shaking uncontrollably from the orgasm building at the base of his spine. "(Y/n), your hands feel so good on me, oh-shit…" Patrick had to lean against the shower wall as his legs buckled from the intense waves of ecstasy as he cummed with your name on his trembling lips, the water still running down his sculpted body, washing his cum off, but he was still so hard. 

"Reading books on psychology," Bateman chuckled, tilting his head. "What an idiot." His nervous giggle bounced across the shower, but soon the laughter turned to a low wail. "Pathetic…” 

Time flowed like sand through your fingers, and you couldn't even remember how many days had passed since your visit to Bateman's office, but since then something had changed between the two of you, but you both couldn't understand what exactly had changed, or maybe you didn't want to try to understand. To be fair, it was so fucking annoying that when you found out that Tim, David, Craig and Patrick were going to the Tunnel, you saw it as your chance to dot the T's, no matter how the evening would end.

When you arrived at the club, it was so crowded that it took you a while to find the group of yuppies sitting on the plush couches next to the dance floor, jamming to the music and drinking their cocktails. 

As you approached, Craig was the first to spot you. "Woah, woah, look who it is!" His cheeky remark caused everyone to look at you, including Bateman, whose teeth were visibly clenched around his cigar at that moment. 

"Hey, guys! Enjoying the music I see?" You smiled, fixing your hair briefly from the sudden rush of panic.  ‘Damn it, stay calm! Why am I so nervous?’

Timothy winked at you and raised his glass. "Did you come alone or..." he stopped abruptly when he noticed someone behind your back. "Hey, is that Paul Allen?"

‘Shit, shit, shit. That was so much easier in my head than it is in reality.’ You chewed on your cheek, and while the men were guessing whether they really saw Paul Allen or not, a sudden idea came to your mind, but you hated it before you even started to bring it to life. "Do you have a gram?" You asked without thinking, hoping they would say no.

"I do," Bateman's voice came out of nowhere and you almost screamed in your head, but you had to keep your composure. "But you will owe me." As he said this, you came closer to where he was sitting with a playful smile on your face and took a seat next to him. "Wait, we are not going to do coke here."

"Hey, why not?" David chuckled and took out his business card holder. "What's wrong with it?

"Oh God, look at that cheeky bastard," Craig pressed a palm to his face. "Van Patten decided to be a bad boy today."

The men laughed and high-fived each other before Bateman whispered in your ear, making you almost jump. "Follow me." Those two simple words made you obey like you were under a spell. 

As the two of you made your way to the bathroom where people in the Tunnel usually did coke, your heart pounded to the heavy beat of the music, or even faster. Patrick went first, his elegant silhouette like a shining star in the midnight sky — so eye-catching and mesmerizing that it wasn't surprising that a lot of people turned around to look at him, but you didn't care as soon you would be alone with him. ‘Just you and me, Bateman.’

The bathroom was surprisingly empty today. The last time you were there, you had to wait almost half an hour to get into the free stall, but now luck seemed to be on your side. As you stepped into one, Patrick pulled out his business card holder and rolled the $100 bill; you did the same, watching as Bateman made lines of coke with his platinum AmEx card.

"I have to say, you look much better." You commented briefly.

The man was about to lean over to snort the white powder, but your words made him freeze. "Huh," he chuckled abruptly and brushed away a stray lock of hair. "I was just reading some books about... relationships," Patrick grimaced, drawing out the last word with a cocky grin. "It changed my mind." Before you could say anything, Patrick was snorting the coke, holding the rolled-up bill to his nostril while holding another down with his thumb.

"Very funny," you mumbled, tapping the rolled note against the inside of your palm. "Where was your wit when I walked into your office a week ago?"

Bateman coughed quietly and threw his head back for a moment to clean his nose. "What does this have to do with anything?"

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to his business card holder to inhale the white line of powder that had been left there, your mood was already off, and at some point you even began to regret coming to Tunnel tonight. Though it wasn't your first time doing coke, you felt so dizzy as the drug began to intoxicate your system that you almost fell to the floor if you hadn't bumped into Bateman's chest, leaving a white stain on the lapel of his Valentino suit.

"Hey! What the fuck!" Patrick blurted out, ready to push you off, but the way you grabbed his shoulders stirred something strange inside him, something he was fighting all the time. "Have you ever done coke?"

You coughed several times, blinked nervously, and only then did you let him go. "Sorry..." you gasped and leaned against the wall of the stall behind your back. "It's been a while."

"You stained my jacket."

"God! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No," Bateman replied, brushing off. "Not okay."

"What do you mean?" You asked confusedly, batting your eyelashes and breathing heavily.

Patrick dropped his head for a second before looking at you again, your faces dangerously close. "I'm not okay."

You licked your lips nervously. "Why?"

Instead of saying anything, the man pulled you against his massive frame, giving you no time to react as his hot mouth covered yours; it was difficult to call it a kiss, it was more like the act of claiming — his strong arms trapping you between the wall and his muscular body while yours hovered motionlessly like whips. When Bateman released you, he tugged at your lower lip and licked it with a wet, obscene sound. "Because...because of this."

Panting, you stood in shock for a moment before nodding and touching your wet lips. "Yes," you put both hands on his chest, exploring it slowly but boldly, causing him to close his eyes for a second. "I don't think I'm okay either." After whispering it in his ear, you slid your tongue down his bare neck, right over the mole, and when you heard him grunting, you lowered your hand to his belt, playing teasingly with the buckle.

"Lower," Bateman husked, and when you didn't listen, he grabbed your hand and lowered it himself — the outline of his fully erected cock eliciting a muffled moan to break out of your cramped throat. "Ahhh-fuck."

"God, you're so needy," you murmured against his neck, busy undoing his belt. "So touchy."

It only took a few seconds for you to undo his pants and let his taut dick pop out of his underwear. ‘Mmhhm, his cock is so perfect, just as I expected,’ you smiled to yourself, and in the next moment you were stroking his throbbing length, smearing his slick pre-cum around his swollen tip without any shame or fear of getting caught.

"(Y/n)," Patrick hissed as he pressed you against the wall with his weight, his hands sneaking down your back to grope your ass. "Be quiet," the man ordered when he heard your soft moans. "Keep quiet and undo this." Bateman pointed to your bottom and just the thought of what he was about to do to you almost made you cum.

"Why?" You gave him a foxy grin and tightened your grip on his dick, forcing Patrick to hold his breath.

"Just...just do what I say..."

"Okay, honey."

"Don't call me that!" He uttered and squeezed your ass painfully, your bodies grinding against each other, making you hot and sweaty.

"Patrick..." You attempted to kiss him, but he turned away.

In one swift motion, the man reached your neck and aggressively nipped at the throbbing artery. "Shut up! Just shut up and undo this fucking..."

You didn't let him finish his tantrum as you caught his lips with yours, increasing the tempo of the jacking, and you could feel he was so damn close. But since he was so insistent, you undid the lower part of your garment, and everything that happened next was like one of your recent dreams. Bateman, flushed and panting, crouched down, his cock slipping out of your grasp, but the next second his fierce mouth found its way between your legs as he began to suck on your sensitive flesh with sheer greed and passion, not forgetting to pump his dick and growl softly against your skin.

"Ohh, Pat-Patrick," you gasped, tugging at his brown hair, dishevelling it, but neither of you cared. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop..."

"Mmm-fuck, you taste so sweet," Patrick pressed his face closer to your core, his free hand nailing you to the wall to hold you in place. "You're shaking like a fucking whore."

Chucking, you yanked at his hair a little harder. "And you're devouring me like a starved man, are you starved, Bateman? How long have you been... so fucking s-starved?" You hiccupped as he redoubled his efforts, lapping at your crotch and jerking himself off. "F-fuck, I'm... I'm gonna..."

The loud footsteps made you both stop in your tracks, and when you heard people coming into the bathroom, you stalled completely, only to quickly fix your clothes and then pretend nothing had happened as you left the stall. Later, as you were washing your hands, Patrick stood behind you and you met his eyes in the mirror. "Are you leaving or..." You asked briefly as he handed you your twisted bill.

"Yeah," Bateman straightened his jacket and wiped his mouth with a paper towel before opening the door. "You better forget about it. Believe me."

‘And now I feel like I need a memory reboot.’

Chapter 2 is here! 💗✌

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[2kiran]

❛ 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦, 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢ó𝐧 ❜ ➖ drb.

pairing: ghostface x reader content: bottom ghostf, top male reader, unspecified m!character, held at knifepoint genre: smut | series masterlist

“Fucking—!” Ghostface sucks in a gasp, the metallic blade gleaming under the narrowed light over your forms. “With something as big as this,” On quivering knees and one gloved hand planted on your abdomen, he lifts. “y’sure know how t–to, oh fuck me—” He drops himself down, his walls clinging to the base of your dick. “—hide it. Bet you like how a killer feels, don’t you? Yeah, you do.”

You huff, your skin adorned with a thick sheen of sweat. Pleasure rolls down the length of your spine, the muscles of your thighs trembling with the effort to not buck up into his warming heat. He leans down, grinding his hips forward as he holds up the pointed end of the knife to the center of your throat. “You like your victim.” You deflect, and he clenches around you to punch out a sharp intake of breath from you. He isn’t doing greatly himself, the bursts of a peeking orgasm building in the pit of his belly setting his mind to a blur.

There’s an itch he’s unable to scratch—one that the head of your cock can only graze and prod. But it isn’t enough. You’re not touching him, disregarding the fact that he was the one who commanded you not to. He needed your hands on him, on his leaky, aching dick, and on his neck, even. “Haah, fuuuuuck, shut it.” He pants, his tip throbbing with slickness. The weapon is dangerously close to your sensitive skin, ready to delve into your sickly blood and drown within it.

And you knew he’d take horrifying amusement in seeing you wounded. Wounded with a brand-like marking, giving you a reminder that you’re his. Ghostface’s man, whether you want the title or not. You’ll be haunted with the glimpse of his dark, tainted robe and that long-lasting expression of screaming.

“That’s right...” he mumbles under his breath, burying his obscured face to the crook of your neck and shoulder. He doesn’t realize he’s already speaking his fantasies, his need for you. He rides you harder, his walls spasming as he’s hit by a familiar warning of a climax approaching. “You’re mine, oohhh shit, this s’all mine.”

Your mind is swimming, your hands balled into fists. Your cock pulses inside of him, a numbing tightness coiling in your gut. His speech is hushed, meant to keep it to himself, but your ears manage to pick up on the soft syllables. You can’t deny it, not with your mouth running dry, and certainly not with your cock nestled to the hilt. He feels you jab at his sweet spot, sending the bundle of nerves aflame. Ghostface whines, eyes squeezing shut while his pace stutters.

His brain runs static. His body shudders, legs quaking almost violently. It lasts relatively long, his subconscious setting the knife beside your head to avoid accidentally cutting your jaw. Ghostface wanted you. He needed you; and when you paint his hole white, he begins to think about how badly he needs you to feel the same way.

[cece693]

Clean and Tidy (Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader)

Since it's October, I want to provide at least a fic for some of my like (not love) slashers. First in line is Brahams from the movie The Boy (2016.) Beware it's short and not my best work.

Summary: The Heelshire's never posted that nanny ad. After all, you were perfect for the job. Not only were you Brahms's nanny, but you were also the caretaker of the house when the Heelshire's were away.

tags: neat/clean freak reader, Malcolm gets killed, never liked him tbh, Brahms is a kitten with claws

The house stood still and silent, a heavy darkness pressing against the tall windows. Outside, the mist clung to the forest like a second skin, thick and immovable, drowning the world in a damp chill. The Heelshires were away again, leaving me to keep the sprawling estate in order. It was a duty I took seriously—order and cleanliness were my sanctuary against the madness that sometimes threatened to swallow this house whole.

And, of course, there was Brahms.

"Come on, Brahms," I said, crouching to examine the muddy footprints he'd left in the kitchen. "You know the rules. No mud in the house."

There was a rustle, a shift in the shadows, and he emerged from behind the pantry door. His face, obscured by his mask, tilted downward like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "I’m sorry," he said, voice muffled and low. "It was raining."

"Well, it’s still no excuse. Upstairs, now," I ordered, pointing toward the staircase. "Shower, and I’ll clean this up."

He hesitated only momentarily before nodding and slipping away. I watched him go, a mixture of fondness and exasperation warming my chest. He could be dangerous, I knew that. But with me, Brahms was different. Gentle. Almost eager to please.

Everything had been routine, until that night.

Malcolm had come by with the groceries. He was the delivery boy from town, bright-eyed and persistent, always lingering longer than necessary. I’d noticed the way his gaze lingered on me, the way his smiles grew bolder over time, but I’d never encouraged him. Yet, that night, as I was wiping down the kitchen counters, he cornered me, his hand slipping over mine.

"You know," he said, voice low, "you don’t have to stay cooped up here all the time. I could take you out—just the two of us. No one would have to know."

I pulled my hand away, disgust churning in my stomach. "I’m fine where I am, Malcolm. You should go." He didn’t listen. He moved closer, his hand reaching for my waist. I froze, my mind whirling, caught between indignation and the sudden sense of danger that flared hot in my chest. Then I heard it—a soft rustling, a creak from behind the pantry.

"Malcolm, I’m serious." I warned, my voice sharp. "Leave."

But before he could say another word, Brahms was there, stepping out from the darkness. He moved with a speed and ferocity I had never seen before, slamming Malcolm against the wall. There was a flash of panic in Malcolm’s eyes, a gasp—cut off too soon. It was over in seconds. Brahms was breathing hard, his body trembling, and Malcolm lay crumpled on the floor, his eyes wide and unseeing. Blood stained Brahms' crisp white shirt, bright and stark against the fabric. I should have felt something—fear, horror, anything—but all I felt was a strange calm.

"Brahms." I whispered. He turned to me, the mask hiding his face but not the hunch in his posture. He was waiting for a reprimand, for anger, for anything that would push him back into the shadows. Instead, I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing as I took in the crimson staining his shirt. "Look at you," I said, my voice almost a sigh, "you've ruined your shirt. How many times have I told you to be careful?"

His head tilted, confusion and a flicker of relief warring in his eyes. "I’m sorry." he whispered. I didn’t answer. I turned away, stepping around the body without a second glance, moving to the kitchen sink to wet a rag. Behind me, Brahms watched, still as a statue, his gaze never leaving me as I crossed the floor to him. I began wiping the blood from his hands, my touch brisk and efficient.

"I'll have to dispose of that shirt and the body, which is on the verge of staining the carpet—"

"I’ll clean it." Brahms offered quickly, his voice hoarse. He was eager to please again, desperate for approval.

"Good." I met his eyes, my expression stern but gentle. "But next time, Brahms, be more careful. Bloodstains are a nightmare to get out."

He nodded, something like a smile hidden beneath the mask. There was a glimmer of gratitude, of understanding that I wouldn’t send him away, that I wouldn’t abandon him like the rest. I didn’t say another word as I watched him slip off to dispose of the evidence, like a cat slinking off with its prize. The house was mine to care for, and that meant caring for Brahms—the strange, broken boy who, for reasons I couldn’t quite name, trusted me to stay.

[pastelclovds]

for the made-up fic title thingy, here's a fic title i had for an old work of mine but changed: "can't sleep love"

*cracks neck* okay so—

for this title, i can’t explain it, but it gives off obsessive energy.

cw: somnophilia

brahms is having trouble sleeping because no matter how hard he tries: HE CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU. he adores you both on the outside and the inside. he’s so happy that you’ve decided to stay despite finding out about him. every second he spends with you fills him with warmth in his heart (and loins). it doesn’t take long until his thoughts become explicit and his cock hard and straining against his boxers. he first tries to deal with it on his own by fingering his twitching hole how you would, but quickly gives up when he realizes he could never do it like you.

he sneaks inside your room like the sneaky pervert he is. he stands there above you for a few minutes just admiring your face before the throbbing of his dick reminds him of what he’s there for. he slides the sheets off your body and carefully pulls down your sleeping pants just enough to where your soft cock can pop out. he wastes no time to put his mouth into work, cautiously watching over your resting expressions as his tongue slides over your veins and head. your face twists into bliss as you get hard in his mouth. he’s taken your lessons on how to pleasure you to heart. now he can play you like a fiddle. he slides you out of his mouth, stroking the base of your cock as he does it.

brahms let out a whimper as the head of your cock enters him, his hole stretches to fit you in as he continues to slide down until you are balls deep and sitting snuggly against his prostate. he rests his hands beside your neck as he steadily raises his hips until your head kisses the rim of his ass and slams down. he couldn’t contain his moans and whine for ‘more’ even if he was in a death match. you finally snap awake when brahms cried out your name as his cum stained your chest and belly. he slumps against your chest as he pants heavily beside your neck. you didn’t think it was possible to grow more horny than you already have, but your darling losing himself on your dick proved you wrong.

brahms gasped when your palms found themselves on the fat of his ass as you bucked up into his tight hole. you grin as you whispered into his ear, “i’m not satisfied, love.”

[marksbear2]

Daddyyy!! I have an idea, and Jason Voorhees & Michael Myers spilt roasting an bottom reader! Ik u dislike writing bottom reader so you could just write an small scenario.

JASON VOORHEES & MICHAEL MYERS X MALE READER

⚠️Warnings!! Could be G/N READER. Rough and hard sex, spilt roasting, mean Michael, blowjob, deep throat, pulling, 3some, same time. Pure smut!!⚠️

You lost track of time and how this all started, one moment you were running away from literally the two most slashers alive.

It started off with Michael seeing you fall and hurt your ankle. He stood up watching you scream in pain but also fear. Alongside with Michael, Jason approached looking down at you as well.

Then almost in sync they slowly look up form your body and they exchange an look before cornering you.

At first you resisted but as their large and rough gloved hands grabbed and touched your body you felt yourself getting more and more horny. Your body couldn’t hide the arousal you felt.

Now currently Heavy breathing could be heard above you. You were on all fours gagging around Michael’s cock while Jason was behind you thrusting his cock deep inside of you. Jason put one of his legs next to your thigh thrusting in and out of you in a deep and fast pace.

Which each thrust Jason thrusted your body up forcing your mouth to go down Michael’s cock.

As for Michael he thrusted his cock right back forcing his cock deep inside your throat.

They were toying with your body, treating you as if you were some fuck toy for them to share. You gagged and chocked around Michael’s cock while your moans and screams from pleasure were muffled.

Jason hands massaged your ass spreading them and gripping them. He was much more gentle then Michael that was gripping your hair down on his cock.

Jason thrust got faster and faster before abruptly pulling out and pulling your waist down to him pulling you off of Michael’s cock.

Jason flipped your body so you laid on your back. The two slashers switch spots now Michael is in between your legs. He held your legs apart and high putting your legs agaisnt his shoulders and once your legs were settled he put his hands on your hips before immediately thrusting his full cock inside of you showing no mercy or compassion.

The other slasher was watching slightly in Awww but mostly in arousal.

He noticed you were having a hard time keeping your legs on Michael’s shoulders so he reached over taking both of your ankles and holding your legs apart and high for Michael.

Jason looked down at you before swaying his large much thicker cock above your face. Eventually you wrap your lips around his cock. Jason was much more patient then Michael letting you suck his cock at your own pace. Jason’s hands ran through your hair just petting you.

While Michael on the other hand was thrusting fast and deep inside your whole. He was fucking your walls as of you were nothing to him.

His large cock abusing your hole. Michael looked up from your face, since he was just staring watching you sick Jason’s cock. As Michael looked up him and Jason made eye contact. Michael slowly lowered himself on you pressing his body against yours with his full body weight. Eventually Jason let go of your legs, as you immediately wrap them around Michael’s waist.

Michael put his hand on the base of Jason’s cock guiding him out of your mouth, Michael used his free hand to lift up his mask a bit so his mouth and nose was only visible. Michael pumped Jason’s cock before wrapping his lips around his cock bobbing his head down on the full thick shaft. You look and watch in awe as your shock gets cut off short by Michael hips pulling away and slamming himself back inside your hole.

Maybe if you keep up with them for the rest of the night they’ll let you live, or not…

THE END