#3 from hell foxy

[msookyspooky]

How the Slashers Apologize to their S/O

Something quick

Slashers Mentioned: Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Severen Van Sickle, Jesse Hooker, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Foxy Coltrane

Billy Loomis:

- "I'm sorry....😒...Sorry you're such a dramatic fucking-"

- An apology is just more petty jabs and arguing. He is a spoiled rich boy that only apologized to Sidney as an act; he is arrogant and petty as it gets otherwise

- WILL bring it back up like a lil bitch because he loves manipulating to play the victim

- You will have to be the bigger person or call a truce.

- Once a truce is called he surpringly may apologize in his awkward way or just never ever bring it up again

Stu Macher:

- Spoiled rich boy number 2

- If you say something like: *Say you're sorry!*

He has a shit eating smirk " Fine. You're sorry. I forgive you, babe 😇😏."

- Absolutely infuriating. Everything is a joke to him including your anger. Only if you deny him something is he giving a half assed apology but if he can fuck you or buy you something instead then he will.

- "Alright alright! I get it, you're just all in your emotions-" He would make a mocking face "Sorry baby, ya know I don't think and just say stuff!" Followed by him wanting whatever it was he wants.

Bo Sinclair:

- His face when you demand an apology because...What is that? He never got or gave one.

- Probably the most stubborn on here. Traumatized and prideful and stubborn af.

- Will intimidate in an argument, try to play the dom brat-tamer, seduce you thinking you're just 'testing him' like he thinks you always are. That he can just 'fuck' the attitude out of you. When those don't work bc you're GENUINELY upset? Silent treatment. Both out of defensive anger and uncomfortable feeling with being held responsible for your hurt/anger.

- "I ain't apologizin for SHIT, sweetheart." And he probably means that shit too.

- But he is more giving than Billy Loomis even if their responses are similar. Billy is more moody while Bo is more explosive yet action oriented. So, even if he won't apologize; EVENTUALLY if it means that damn much to you he'll do something for you as a silent apology. Best you're gonna get from him.

- Like expect something you wanted fixed or he keeps silently bringing you your favorite things like a dog

Vincent Sinclair:

- He is Bo's identical previously conjoined twin; his muteness don't mean nothing. They are both STUBBORN and controlling in different ways. Bo more than Vincent but I promise if you got on Vincent's way or accidentally broke a wax sculpture...Yep, you'll see it. They just express it differently. Bo is nagging and controlling with his relationships and town and Vincent is his work. It doesn't help they both were probably never apologized to a day in their lives and vice versa

- Silent treatment and avoiding you. If he's mad; He's slamming things like Bo just not mouthing off. If you're mad; Unlike Bo who pokes to get a reaction; he just avoids you.

- But...He's just as if not more indebted to a partner than his twin is so you may get an apology via handwritten note but he will not be anywhere near and would prefer you just act like you never saw it and it never happened.

Lester Sinclair:

- "Me?? But-...Baby, c'mon..."

- I hc he's either much older than the twins or much younger. Either way, he too was not taught how to properly say sorry...Ever.

- He pouts. He's got a fierceness about him too when he's mad but he's not nearly as stubborn as his brothers so once the arguing is over he's bummed out.

- Tries to make his sulking obvious hoping you'll be swayed and when that doesn't work he uncomfortably tells you, "Sunshine, I ain't good at this. None of us Sinclair's are so I'm so-...I'm sor-...Sorry." He cringes like you branded him.

- As awkward as it gets but gets you flowers to soften the blow

Severen Van Sickle:

- Absolutely teases you, "Aww are ya mad at me, sugarplum?" like it's cute that you're mad because to him it probably is. If you smirk even a little, even out of nervousness, he will not take any of this seriously.

- Will tease like it's cute. If that don't work? He's being like Bo and gonna seduce you to fuck that attitude out of you.

- Has to REALLY see you mad and then he gets a bit exasperated and defensive, "Hmph, yer serious? Oh c'mon! Ya can't actually be that damn mad!"

- Welp, you are.

- Is stubborn, not Sinclair 'doesn't even know that word' stubborn or Billy Loomis 'I'd rather die' stubborn but stubborn. Ignores you but let's everyone know like a petty boy; "Oh yeah, YN over there ain't talkin' to me tonight." Looks at one of them, "Well, go ask them! Since I'M IN THE FUCKIN' DOG HOUSE-" with a glare at you.

- His hot headed, petty, stubbornness only last a night or two at best before he's wrapping his arms around you from behind

- "...Honey, I'm... Sorry." He says it softly, quietly against your skin for only you to hear but his voice doesn't waver. "Can ya go back to being friends, amigos, best pals; preferably with benefits? Pleassseee?" he'd lay on the charm thick trying to get you to crack a smile so he knows you're not mad anymore

Jesse Hooker:

- Glares coldly at you and paces like an animal in private when no one else is watching

- He's not use to any of you challenging him. He's a tough old bird but damn it you just have a way of getting under his skin. Probably over something dumb too.

- He's not making petty digs like Billy or Severen. Not Slamming things or avoiding you like the Sinclair Twins either.

- No he leads. Acts more gruff and short than usual but if he has to talk to you he will it's just very cold and quick and to the point.

- He COULD apologize...But damn he hates to. Even more than Severen.

- Probably won't; trying to see if you crack first. Only way he's cracking is if you outstubborn him. Bonus points if it's in a situation

- "...Fine. Sorry! Now can we get goin?" He'd grumble gruffly while loading his gun.

- Eventually in a few nights he's like, "YN...Let's talk." And sighs before trying to come to some type of truce here

Otis Driftwood: (Idc they should've kept him like this all 3 movies)

- Never in a million years even when something is entirely his fault. He could set you on fire and say it was your fault.

- In fact, out of everyone here, he is thee MOST unhinged and that is saying something.

- He will literally be like, "Sorry?" While mockingly laughing, "Bitch/Prick/Fucker, you outta be grateful yer ass is luckier than a goddamn two peckered fuckin billy goat I'm not gutting you like a fish as we speak!"

- ...He's not joking either. Unless you're as crazy as Baby and 'family' enough...He will. So you better drop it, sex him up or leave 😬

Baby Firefly:

- Again, never.

- In her family? Just bumping into each other is 'move outta the fuckin way' or spilling something is 'Goddamn it!-' followed by blaming someone somehow for the milk falling. They will blame a person 10 feet away like 'Look what you did!'

- Only way is if it wasn't THAT serious and she can pout and feel you up trying to use sex as a get out of jail free card very much like Severen all flirty and "Aww you mad? You're real cute when your mad, ya know that?"

- If it's serious? It would have to be life or death.

- Like, srsly life or death or she's just beyond done with your bs.

- and you're getting a "Sorry you're such a goddamn baby bitch about every fuckin thing! Now can we move the fuck on already!? Fuccckkkkk!"

Foxy Coltrane:

- Lol. Again, never.

- Most arguments end in a truce and him just groaning and being like, "Any-goddamn-way..."

- If he really fucked up his apologies are almost like Stu mixed with Severen like some snake oil salesman type charm

- "Aw sweet thang, c'mon...Look. I'm fuckin' sorry, alright!?...Goddamn-" Followed by him tsking and rubbing his beard before laying on that charm. "Ya want me to beg? I can't do that but I will lick that sexy ass body head to toe till you forget why yer mad then fuck you so long and hard in that mattress; ya forget yer own fuckin' name to boot."

- That's the best you're getting.

[cenomatic]

Foxy!

[miserablemisty]

[ivy475]

I love this photo

[httpsreaperbell1899]

Someone get him a curly hair routine

[jacobseed]

RICHARD BRAKE as Winslow Foxworth "Foxy" Coltrane in 3 FROM HELL

[projectlupara]

Clap for the Wolfman, you're gonna dig him till the day you die

[bl-00-dlvst]

i swear i can fix them </3

[thatweirdbitchjax]

Can I request a child reader with (whatever slasher you want)?

Muti slasher x child reader who has metal problems that hasn't been diagnosed with (whatever one you feel comfortable writing)

So, I'm gonna write for depression and or anxiety as I have both. I have no clue if these were what you meant, but here you go! Also, I apologize if I offend anyone, I am solely going off of my experience with them and what I do with mine. Sorry it started getting short at the end, I started running out of ideas :(.

Characters: o.driftwood, b.sawyer, b.firefly, capt.spaulding

Warnings: depression, anxiety, mental health issues

There are more than likely things that I forgot to mention in the warnings, so proceed with caution

Mental Child

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba picked up on how sad you had been

But it wasn't just sadness, he could see it in your eyes, it was something else

At first he just thought that someone had dropped by the gas station while you were there helping Drayton and said something mean about you, so he tried sitting with you

He slowly recognized that, that wasn't helping and quickly clocked when you started distancing yourself

Staying in your room more often then not, your eyes constantly being swollen, the fact that he couldn't bring a smile to your face like he used to

He began to worry, heavily

He tried to get Drayton to take you somewhere to get you fixed, but Drayton seen no issue with how you were acting

Eventually tho, Drayton breaks after even Nubbins began worrying about you

Nubbins noticed how little you smiled, how you seemed to look a little more dead everytime he saw you, and how little you were eating

Anyways, at this point, everyone is worrying about you

The breaking point is when Bubba walks up to your room to find you in the middle of an anxiety attack

He doesn't know that's what this is tho, so he picks you up and rushes you down stairs

Drayton takes you to the hospital and blah blah blah

Captain Spaulding

Baby was the first to notice how off you were acting

No longer willing to scalp people with her, let her do your hair, let her paint your nails or anything

She recognized that you were distancing yourself and told Mama, and then, somehow, word got out to Spaulding

He immediately came and picked you up and took you to live with him for a while

To say he was worried was an understatement

You weren't eating, you were barely sleeping, and he could hear your anxiety attacks

He couldn't do anything about it tho, cause he didn't know what to do

He noticed how slouchy you were and eventually asked you what was going on, telling you that he was beginning to get worried

If you deside to open up, he tries to find you a place to get you help after a while

At first he was like, "Oh, everyone gets a little depressed now and then," but then he started getting worried when you weren't seeming to get better

Otis Driftwood

You think this mf cares?

He tells you to suck it up

He will get kinda worried when you start violently shaking and start screaming about how you can't breathe

Only then does he try to do anything to help you tho

Baby Firefly

She cares! She really does, she just doesn't understand why you can't breathe

She tries getting you water and holding you

She doesn't really know anything about Anxiety, so Mama was the one to make the assumption that that was what you had

She tried to make herself a bit smarter on the subject so she can help her baby

@puppet200 @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @zeroisreallygood @im-a-simp898 @artsycrow46 @evry1h8s-me @aflairforthemelodramaticc @caretaleandotherstuff

[msjamesmarch]

It wasn’t Baby Firefly, she wouldn’t of missed

[bleachdemon03]

I may or may not have found the best matching pfp ever

[msookyspooky]

Smacking the Slashers on the 🍑

Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Severen Van Sickle, Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Foxy Coltrane

Bo Sinclair:

- "What in the goddamn hell?!-" He drew out after jolting under the hood of a car. He was bent over, his double cheeked up on a Tuesday ass on full display; how could you not? I hope you got one hell of a good smack too. He deserves it. Use one of the fanbelts on the wall. Make it count cause he's not gonna let you do that often without him getting payback. (Oh, but he smacks yours constantly and that's fine)

- If he hit his head on the hood so help you God you need to run and hide for awhile cause he's gonna rage.

- After the shock wears off that someone just smacked his ass... He gets a smirk on his lips and forgets whatever he's working on. "Oh, ya wanna play, do ya? C'mere." You just gave him incentive to hold you down and let his inner perverted sadist out on your ass. You ain't gonna sit right for the rest of the day. I hope you evade him or it turns to a sex thing...Yeah, it'll be a sex thing.

Vincent Sinclair

- He was so busy sculpting and had his Classical Music on high. You tried to get his attention and when that didn't work you swatted him on the butt. He jumped a foot in the air and you had to duck when he almost accidentally took your head off with whatever tool he was using. You startled the hell out of him!

- He's blushing under his mask but gives you a confused look...He's not mad he's just...Curious why you did that.

- He doesn't get revenge right away. Instead, he'll wait till your busy one day and do it back to you just to see your reaction and if it's a playful one then he's kind of happy about it. Not use to this type of dynamic with anyone

Lester Sinclair

- He was loading or unloading a carcass in the bed of his truck and it had been a boring day so you couldn't help it when you smacked him.

- He let's out the funniest noise, blushing like crazy clutching his rear and asks: "Youch! What was that for?"

- If you let him know it was you being flirty or cheeky; he's just standing there smiling a goofy smile and has an extra pip in his step while he works. He probably won't get revenge (At least not right away) but he will be tickled pink that you liked his ass enough to smack it.

Billy Loomis

- He gets so damn serious and overdramatic with certain things that when he was rummaging for something and irritated he couldn't find it; you decided to make him shut up in the best way you knew how.

- *SMACK* He flinched, his back stiffened and a glare instantly crept onto his face. "...You are so dead."

- You better run. He gets this shit enough from Stu, now you? He secretly enjoys it but he's a lil edgelord that can't let you know that.

- Que him chasing you around the house, jumping over and tripping over furniture to either smack your ass ten times harder or punch you in the arm or hold you down and tickle you till you can't breathe.

Stu Macher

- He is CONSTANTLY smacking your ass. CONSTANTLY. You walk sideways and backwards around him! So when he's sitting on his bed in a weird way on his stomach or something with his ass up? Hell yes you're getting him!

- He either releases a genuine gasp because you took him by surprise or the fakest turned 'aauuugh!' moan to be a smart ass cause he knew what you were gonna do (He liked it. He wanted it. He's a whore like that.)

- He giggled and gave you a sadistic smile. "Oh, that ass is mine!" and the chase is on.

- If he catches you; he is holding you down and goosing and feeling you up just as much as smacking you. He is a giant perv and holding you down while squeezing and spanking your ass is definitely on his cumbucket list im js

- Unlike Billy who knows when enough is enough; Stu does not. Just warning that if he catches you he's turning it into something very fucking horny. He is feeling you up one way or another.

Severen Van Sickle

- He was almost always playful and he would just give you a pat on the ass out of excitement on the regular not even thinking about it. So when you finally returned the favor his whole body stiffened a bit and a smirk formed on his face.

- "Oh?...Ya like what ya see, babydoll?" He'd tease you. Not getting revenge but not letting you run away either. He'd fold his arms in that leather jacket and smirk down at you with a twinkle to his blue eyes. Getting closer, cornering you into the wall with one hand bracing it as he leaned over you.

- "Wanna try that again?" He asked. Hell you weren't sure if it was a warning or genuine glee. Eitherway he wasn't mad he just loved seeing you get flustered.

- He definitely teased the hell out of you the rest of the night. Even telling his family and loving seeing you blush. He secretly wants you to do it again and purposely bends over near you not only to be a teasing ass but because it got him excited. He actually is curious if you have the balls to do it again because if you do that's just fun! He'll make it a big sexy flirty game from here on out...Definitely doing it more in private too.

Baby Firefly

- I would not...That's a level of sadistic crazy you cannot contain but if you did? It's 50/50 how she'd react. Most likely, she'd play it up after you spanked her while she was getting something.

- "The flying fuck was that for?!" She glared and when you get sheepish like she wanted then a grin would appear. "Hey...Are you flirtin' with me, honey? You wanna smack my ass again? C'mon. I know you like it." She will literally expose her ass for you and you aren't sure what to do because she LOVED to manipulate and play mind games to get you submissive with her so...Was this a trap?

- If you do smack her ass again, she's definitely going to make it a 'My turn!' and smack you twice as hard before whispering something sexy in your ear...May or may not lead to a game of ass slap where she's winning and you're running away from her because she hurts!

Otis B. Driftwood

- Grouchest Motherfucker to ever exist unless he really is in a good mood. When he was working on an 'art piece' and was ignoring you on purpose you took the chance of smacking his ass.

- He dropped his needle and thread and glared at you. "...Are you fuckin' serious right now? I ain't got time for this ya lil shit!"

- However. He's full of shit himself saying it because whether you get solemn, bratty, playful, annoyed. Does not matter. He's giving you a 10 seconds headstart and telling you "Run lil rabbit run." With a smirk. Especially as he gets older. Prison made him appreciate the little things including having an S/O that wanted to get frisky.

- Once he catches you, and he will in time, he puts you over his knee whether you're at. Outside in the barn, in the woods, in the damn living room in front of everyone. Does not matter. He will give your ass a few swats from his hand till your squirming while taunting you "Ain't this fun? Ain't this what you wanted?" all before doing it a few more times. He ain't done till your teary eyed and squirming and your ass is blood red. Then he's dipping his hand down. Rubbing soothing circles while whispering naughty praise in your ear. "That's a good lil girl/boy/bunny for me...How about we take this back to my room and you can show Daddy how much ya want his attention?"

Winslow Foxworth 'Foxy' Coltrane

- He was a bit hungover. Groaning like the oldman he is and bent over to get another beer from the mini fridge in the room when you took a towel because you showered and you aren't nasty like him and Otis and just...Rolled it up and smacked his ass.

- He yelped and jolted a bit before giving you the most unamused glare. "Really?...Really, you lil fuck- Ow!" You definitely smacked him again the second he got close enough. Something about that second smack has a smirk on his face. A husky chuckle escapinging him because you just made this a thing. "Ohohoo, you're fuckin' in trouble now. Come the fuck over here, asscakes. I think you could use a few lickin's yourself."

- He has good reflexes and a high tolerance for pain so he just jerks that towel out of your hand when you go to smack him and loops it around your waist. Pulling you flush against him where you can't get free.

- He uses his large hands to grope your ass and give it a good smack while you're up against him and he's smirking down at you. "Ya like that, baby? You must really want to give me an excuse to feel up this fine ass of yours."

- It is most definitely 100% leading to the most nastiest raunchy dirty but fun sex. The type of sex that you aren't keen on sharing details about. He smacked your ass the entire time while talking dirty to you.

[venus-haze]

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? (Foxy Coltrane x Reader)

Summary: It’s Halloween, 1985, and your Little Red Riding Hood costume catches the attention of the Midnight Wolfman himself.

Note: Female (incredibly unhinged) reader. Foxy calls the reader “Red” because of the Halloween costume, not due to any physical descriptors. I've literally been working on this since February🫠 Anyway, this is for all the old man fuckers out there🖤 Except if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Discussions of canon typical violence. Sexually explicit content involving semi-public play, oral sex (m. receiving) and light roleplaying elements.

October 31, 1985

As soon as you walked into the bar up the road from your place, you immediately wanted to walk out. Having no other plans for Halloween night, you figured you could make the best of going solo. Wore a cute little costume to see where the night led you. Somehow you ended up in a bar where no one else was dressed up for the holiday that called for it. At least, not to the extent you were. Sure, it was a mass-produced Little Red Riding Hood costume you bought on your way home from work, but you made it your own with some makeup and cute heels you dug out of your closet.

You trudged over to the bar, soon nursing your drink and your hurt feelings. With your lip pouted in a slight sulk, you looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a man approached. Dark eyes locked on you. Sly grin on his face. Older, handsome in a scruffy way that your friends always teased you for being into.

You craned your neck to look up at him from your barstool. He sure as hell had that going for him too.

“I dig your costume, Little Red.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Seems like I’m the only one here who got the memo that it’s Halloween.”

“Hell, Halloween is everyday for me,” he said.

“You got a name?”

“You can call me the Midnight Wolfman.” He threw his head back and bellowed out a howl.

Your eyes widened. Heart might’ve skipped a beat. 

Shouts and cheers punctuated the sound, a few of the bar patrons following his lead with weak howls of their own. 

He was probably crazy. Or drunk. Likely both. But fuck, why else would you have gone out on Halloween?

“Buy me a drink, Wolfman?” 

“Glad to, Red.” 

He sat down at the stool next to you, long legs splayed out as one of his boots rested between your heels on your footrest. He claimed your space so easily, you nearly forgot you’d only just met him.

Two shared shots of whiskey later, your face was warm as he leaned in to talk. His easy drawl lured you closer, knees touching, close enough that you could see yourself in his steel blue gaze. You nearly suggested finding a booth to squeeze into. 

Your mind raced with visions of him pulling you onto his lap, his big hands all over you, lips attached to your neck while the other bar patrons were none the wiser.

“Most people call me Foxy, though,” he said.

You furrowed your brows, hoping you hadn’t been fantasizing through too much of the conversation. “Foxy?”

“That’s my name. Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.”

“I like it. Sounds like an F. Scott Fitzgerald character or something.”

“Who’s that?”

“He wrote The Great Gatsby.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that one, had Redford in it. Kind of a snoozefest if you ask me. I mean, hard to follow up Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” he said. “What kind of movies are you into, Red?”

“I love horror, especially the gory shit,” you said before you could think twice. 

He grinned, giving you a nod of approval. “Right on.”

“My favorite is probably The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Have you seen that one?”

“Yeah, it was great. Reminds me of my family.”

You laughed. “No kidding.”

His smile wavered, and for the first time all night it felt like you two weren’t on the same wavelength. Had you missed something in your half-drunk stupor? Was there something he mentioned that you fantasized through?

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to salvage the connection. “Westerns?”

“I’m into the classics, like those old monster movies.”

“Well, you’re way more handsome than Lon Chaney, Wolfman.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m the real deal, baby.”

“I believe it.”

“Yeah?”

You licked your lips. “With a howl like yours? Makes a girl think you could eat her alive.”

“C’mere,” he growled, pulling you to him. 

His lips were on yours, wild and passionate that would keep you up the rest of the night even if nothing else happened. The way he had his hands on you, though, bringing you closer to him, deepening the kiss so you could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the very same he bought you, made you certain he wanted the night to end exactly the same way you did.

He pawed at your ass, his hands pushing up your short, red, satin skirt until your panties peaked out. You moaned when his fingers brushed the wet spot on the fabric, pushing against your clit. Fuck the notion of a getting busy in a back booth, you were ready to let him take you up against the bar if you weren’t so rudely interrupted.

“Hey, c’mon,” the bartender said, looking equally disturbed and exasperated. “You guys can’t—”

Foxy slammed his palm onto the bar, nearby glasses rattling on impact. “Motherfucker, if you don’t get out of my girl’s face I’ll crack your skull open.”

A smile twitched across your lips.

“Get out before I call the cops. Both of you.”

Foxy stood up. “Think I’m scared of some fuckin’ pigs?” Grabbed a nearby beer bottle and smashed it against the bar. Before you could blink, the jagged edge was pressed against the bartender’s throat. If anyone noticed what was going on, they sure as hell weren’t trying to intervene. “By the time they get here I could gut you like a fish.” 

A delirious thrill rolled down your spine at the gleam in Foxy’s eyes. 

“Look man, you—you don’t even have to pay for the drinks. Just go, alright?”

Deathly silence fell over the altercation, the bartender glancing between Foxy’s wild face and the broken bottle.

Do it, a dark, repressed part of you, ravenous for blood, hissed.

Foxy laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, man.” He threw his arm around you, letting the broken bottle shatter on the floor as he led you out.

“Don’t come back!”

“I wouldn’t shit here if I ate a gas station hot dog, asshole,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You pulled your polyester cloak a little tighter when you walked outside. Damn, you and Foxy probably looked like one hell of a pair to the people just getting to the bar.

The two of you stood in the middle of the parking lot while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t eat gas station hot dogs if I can help it. Give me indigestion. My ol’ man—well, adopted ol’ man—he used to make a mean fried chicken at his gas station,” he said, taking a drag. “Get a hankering for the stuff sometimes, and KFC sure as hell doesn’t cut it. Guess Colonel Sanders’ get-up is better than dressing like a clown, though.”

You interjected his rambling, “You would’ve done it, wouldn’t you? The bartender—”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.” He stared you down, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He took a long drag, smoke rolling from his lips and circling above his head as he asked, “You afraid of the big bad Wolfman, Red?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then show me.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine. Yours. I don’t know—I need you, Foxy.” Your voice neared a whine. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Say that again.”

“I need you.” You tugged on his shirt. “Foxy, c’mon.”

“Yours. I can’t drive at night for shit.”

You grabbed him by the arm, practically pulling him over to your car. 

Jamming the key into the lock, you couldn’t open the driver’s side door fast enough, quickly unlocking the passenger door for him. Your hands would’ve been shaking if you weren’t gripping the steering wheel within an inch of your life as you peeled out of the parking lot the moment he finished adjusting the seat, moving it as far back as it could go to accommodate his long legs. 

“Mind if I turn on the radio?” Foxy asked.

“Sure. I don’t live far, though. Should only be ten minutes.”

He fiddled with the stations until a late night news broadcast mentioned the name Otis Driftwood. He paused before sitting back.

“‘Free the Three’ demonstrations in support of the notorious Devil’s Rejects death cult continue well into the night.”

The reporter detailed the Fireflys’ crimes, as if anyone could have missed them. Hundreds of gruesome murders to their names. You, just like everyone else in America, had been glued to the story when it broke. All work practically came to a halt when their trials were going on, obvious guilty verdicts amidst a media circus.

“What do you think of ‘em?” Foxy asked, breaking the silence.

“The Fireflys?”

“Yeah.”

You glanced at him, tearing your eyes off the road for a moment to gauge how he’d react to your answer. “I guess what they did is fucked up, but the police and military have done way worse. Like, Otis Driftwood never dropped nukes on entire cities,” you said. “Why?”

“That’s my family.”

“Really?”

“Well, Otis is my half-brother. The rest of ‘em are all adopted.”

You looked at him again. Then the road. Then him in disbelief. “Then you—“

“Told you I was the real deal, sweetheart.”

“Why didn’t you get caught?”

“I was already in the can. Crazy how that shit happens, huh?”

You hit the gas, accelerating from 50 to 85 in a flash. No cops. Didn’t matter. Foxy could handle them if there were. You pressed your thighs together. Almost considered pulling over and just fucking in the backseat. But where was the fun in that? The excitement? The vulnerability of letting a killer into your home, where you’re supposed to be safe, and hoping to god he wouldn’t see your kitchen knives and get some bright ideas? You moaned. Oh god. You moaned.

“Red?”

“I know, Foxy. I’m going as fast as I can.” Your voice was whiny, high-pitched, desperate. “Piece of shit car—”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Is that a turn off?”

“Hell no.”

——

You nearly dropped your keys by the time you unlocked the door to your apartment, Foxy feeling you up from behind while you fumbled with them, obviously amused by your racing pulse and trembling hands.

“Cool place,” he said when he walked inside. “You got any roommates or—”

You pushed him against the front door, your mouth on his, desperate, hungry for anything he’d give you. Slipping your hand between your bodies, you cupped the bulge in his jeans. He groaned into your mouth, and you squeezed gently, feeling his cock strain against the rough denim.

“Don’t tease,” he growled.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through.” You kneeled in front of him, moving to untie your cloak while he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, “leave the costume on.”

“Whatever you want, Wolfman.”

He pulled his cock from his boxers, big enough to be intimidating at first glance. But he was a killer, part of the Firefly clan, for god's sake, you wouldn't falter, instead mustering up the courage you had to even invite him home in the first place.

“My, what a big cock you have,” you teased, taking it in your hand, spreading the precum at his tip with your thumb while slowly pumping his length.

“All the better to fuck that pretty mouth with, Red.”

You licked your lips, holding eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth. Something primal about him, inherently dangerous. He’d killed people before, probably done far worse. Could change his mind at any time and cause you a world of hell. You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache in your core for hopes he’d take care of it if you did a good enough job. With the way he dug his fingers into your scalp, loud curses and praises falling from his mouth, you weren’t doing half bad.

“Midnight Wolfman’s got you right where he wants you, huh, Red? Turned you into his little bitch?” he taunted. “C’mon, gimme a howl.”

You whined around his cock, choking a bit when he thrust in your mouth. You liked this version of the story a hell of a lot better. No one to save you. Just you, in your Little Red Riding Hood costume, and the wolf, his crooked teeth bared as he hissed through them, grinning down at you. And you brought him there. Invited him into your home knowing he could tear you apart if he wanted to—maybe you wanted him to.

“You’re a good slut, ain’t you?” He groaned. His cock twitched in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of him on your tongue as he came with a howl. “Take it all, Red—fuck, take it.” As if you had much of a choice but to swallow, but his praise went to your head, to your pussy. “Fuck, you’re like a dream come true.”

Pulling back, sitting on your heels, you looked up at him with a newfound predatory gleam in your eye as he caught his breath.

“By the way,” you said, acutely aware of the wet ache between your thighs, “I live alone, if you wanna return the favor.”

[somedaytakethetime]

Girl, they're the cutest oh my god 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ivy475]

Time to do fucked up shit!

[hauntingblue]

making a collection

making another collection with a threatening aura