#chromeskull: laid to rest 2012

[thesightstoshowyou]

Permission

Part 6

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader x Jesse Cromeans (NSFW)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

Summary: Chromeskull joins the party.

Warnings: Implied Stockholm syndrome, blood, heavy gore, minor character death, violence, threats, use of “she,” nonconsensual face fucking, a little daddy kink, Asa and Jesse flirting.

A/N: Hohoho lookie here! Finally, a part 6 to my multi chapter Asa fic! I thought it would be fun to add Jesse into the mix and tie my little universe all together

*You can find more poly Reader/SkullCollector fics on my Masterlist*

~~

The untouched mug on the counter grows cold as you stand frozen in the kitchen. You stare, wide-eyed, at the calendar hanging on the wall. It��s Friday again.

Asa has been gone for an entire week. Seven whole days. This is the longest he’s ever left you alone with no explanation.

Something must be wrong.

You’re certain if the Collector had been stopped, the story would be endlessly broadcasted on every station. There has been nothing on the news about his capture. So, the question remains:

Is he dead?

Had a trap gone awry, a victim escaped, gained the upper hand?

The thought should fill you with glee, elation, relief. You could be going home any day now. Yet, all you feel is cold dread, fear so heavy in your gut it’s made you too sick to even finish your coffee.

What do you do?

Slowly, your gaze shifts until you’re eyeing Asa’s dogs. They’re both staring at you intently, ears perked, like they know what you’re thinking. You’ve seen first hand what they can do to a person. You were warned, and the Collector doesn’t make empty threats. They’ll tear you to shreds the moment you reach for the door handle.

But you can’t stay here until the groceries run out.

You exit the kitchen, deliberately ignoring the front door as you move. Paws click on hardwood as the hounds follow, only pausing their measured pursuit when you ascend the stairs.

It takes some fiddling with the weighty lock on the medicine cabinet, but you eventually manage to work it open. Mismatched eyes scan the bottles until you find what you’re looking for: Diphenhydramine.

Pills rattle as the bottle rests in your trembling hand. In your mind, a battle rages. Asa will kill you if you accidentally overdose his dogs. There’s no question about that. You’re fairly certain you know the dose to give them, confident even.

But, say you’re successful? He’ll most certainly kill you for leaving the house.

How will you get to the hotel? You know where it is, a fact you’ve kept hidden from the Collector. Once, in the days of your imprisonment, you’d found a tear in the peeling wallpaper, a hole in the rotting wall beyond. The terrain was familiar, a place you knew was close to the shooting range your uncle used to take you as a child.

Then, after you make it to the hotel? Asa will kill you for knowing where it’s located, for showing up unannounced. You’ll be too much of a liability.

All options lead to death. There is no outcome that will ensure your survival.

But you were dead the moment you fell into that trunk anyway.

~~

You spare one final look at the dogs sprawled out on the living room floor, furry chests rising and falling with slow, sedated breaths before you depart, front door clicking shut behind you. Silently, you cross the porch, descend the stairs, hurry into the moonless night.

~~

Sweating, panting, you deposit the e-bike you’d stolen behind a pile of scrap metal. Even with the help of the little electric motor, you’re exhausted. Sitting around Asa’s house all day isn’t doing your stamina any favors.

Quietly, you sneak around to the back of the dilapidated hotel. It stands silent, casting an ominous shadow. Any passerby would be oblivious to the house of horrors contained within. You’d never wanted to return as long as you lived.

Yet, here you are.

There’s a crack in one of the boards covering a set of windows. Carefully, you wedge your fingers into the break and pull, peeling away the plywood little by little. Every snap makes you jump and whip your head over your shoulder, but your noise alerts no one. You may very well be alone out here.

Once enough board has been peeled away, you reach in to lift the latch on the widow. It takes several long minutes of shoving and wiggling before the ancient frame gives and slides open. Hastily, you squeeze inside.

The smell hits you first; bleach, medical grade antiseptic, musty carpet, dust, all with an undercurrent of rancid decay. It’s like a punch in the gut, the scent bringing back the worst memories of your life. You clap a hand over your mouth and nose to silence your surprised cough.

From down the hall comes the rattling of chains, gurgling snarls. You hurry in the opposite direction.

Behind a stack of dusty, peeling books you find the hidden staircase. Hastily, you shove them to the side, heave open the creaky door, slip through. You are certain to close it tightly, lest any of those…people try to follow.

You’re careful on the stairs. Unsteady metal bars rattle under your hands as you ascend, one squeaky step at a time. You skip the top one—it is set to give way, something sharp undoubtably waiting below.

Now, you’ve reached the second level, the one with which you are most familiar. Still, you tread with extreme caution. Asa may have moved traps, changed things since you were last here. To come all this way just to be impaled would be less than ideal.

No sign of the Collector yet. You ponder where to search first. Raising your gaze, you make eye contact with the camera perched in the corner of the hallway. If he’s in the control room, he will know you’re here. The thought constricts your throat. Images of his cold, furious expression float to the forefront of your mind.

Stop it, stop thinking. Keep walking.

Carefully, you traverse the wide, main hallway leading to the display room. Ease over a trip wire, skirt around a loose floorboard. The huge wooden doors are ajar, just enough for you to slip past.

It’s quiet inside, eerily so. Icy blue light emanates from the display cases and makes the room feel colder than it actually is. Distantly, you hear mechanical whirring, but it’s further away, down the other hallway maybe���

Movement across the room, in your peripheral.

You startle, head snapping in the direction you saw something large and black slinking behind one of the glowing cases. For a one, hopeful moment, you think it’s Asa, but then….

A man emerges from behind a case, pale light glinting off the shiny, chrome skull mask he wears. He’s tall, incredibly so. He wears torn black nitrile gloves and a black button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tattoos littering his forearms. You notice one of the sleeves of his shirt is torn at the shoulder, dried blood visible on the skin underneath. He has more slashes on his neck, and he appears to be limping, though it’s difficult to tell with how he swaggers as he admires the macabre creations suspended within the displays.

Confidence. Recklessness. The man wears these characteristics as plain as the gleaming mask on his face

He pauses when he spots you trembling on the other side of the room and a moment of tense silence passes between the two of you. Slowly, curiously, his head tilts to the side and you can almost feel his eyes—hidden in the dark holes of the mask—tracing your figure.

A blinking red light catches your eye and you frown when you spot the camera mounted on his shoulder. Odd. What could that be for…?

From his pocket, the man in the mask produces a cell phone. Quickly, he types up a message and holds up the phone. You flinch when the phone screams at you, what sounds like various terrified women yelling his message:

‘Where did you come from, piggy?’

Unease twists your stomach in knots. You take one step backward. Slowly, the man withdraws his other hand from his pocket. Clutched in his palm is a massive, serrated blade. Your eyes grow wide as he nonchalantly swings it around a gloved finger.

You’ve seen enough.

Turning on your heel, you flee, hopping through the gap in the door and sprinting down the hall. Behind you, the door bangs open, smashing against the the wall, and you hear the click and whir of a trap. That should do it—

Spikes fly down from the ceiling, poised to skewer, but the man merely steps to the side, effortlessly dodging the trap. How did…?

Understanding hits, a missing puzzle piece snapping into place. This is why Asa has been gone for a week. This man. His injuries…these must have been inflicted by the Collector.

Is Asa hurt too?

Is he dead?

You don’t have time to linger and think. The man is already stalking toward you, knife at the ready, boots thunking on ancient hardwood.

You’re off in a blink, hurrying around the corner and down the next hall. You fly past rooms, duck under wires, hop over triggers. You turn left, then right.

Slowing, you listen. Silence greets you. Are you still being pursued?

Don’t wait around to find out.

Cautiously, you search around you for a set of stairs. You’re fairly certain there is a staircase around here….

A startled shriek rips from your throat when strong arms seize you around the waist, haul you off your feet, drag you into a nearby room. The door slams shut and you grunt when you’re smashed back against a crumbling wall. Glancing up, your eyes widen when find yourself face to face with an incredulous, unmasked Asa Emory.

His expression darkens and you feel him tense as he prepares to throttle you, but you’re the first to react.

“Asa!” you exclaim, leaping into his arms and wrapping your own around him. His familiar scent—musky cedar, cigarette smoke—fills your lungs and your racing heart calms, swells. Asa’s own arms hover next to you, half-outstretched as he stands frozen in place, like he’s unsure where to put them.

Coming back to himself, the Collector grips your shoulders tightly and pushes you back against the wall. “Why are you here?” he hisses, shaking you slightly for emphasis.

“I was…I thought…I thought you were dead!” you reply, tears welling up in your eyes. Asa’s brows raise, then furrow. He fixes you with a hard, calculating stare, like he’s looking for something.

You notice his eyes then. Dark purple circles sit underneath, darker than normal. He’s exhausted. Has he gotten any sleep all week? Next, a slash of red draws your gaze, your eyes falling to his chest. His sweater is torn, the skin beneath sliced open. His knuckles are bloody too, you notice, and there’s dried, flaking crimson caked on his left ear.

“You’re hurt,” you whisper, pressing your fingers to his chest. He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter.

“You saw him,” he states. It’s not a question but you nod. “Is he close?”

“I don’t know. Who—

Asa doesn’t let you finish. He grips your wrist, throws open the door, peeks outside before dragging you out and around another turn, past a hidden doorway, down a flight of stairs. You pass that room—the one filled with bloody instruments, stainless steel gurneys, vials of evil smelling liquids, terrariums, and empty, torn trunks—and enter another.

He closes and locks this door as you survey the various monitors mounted on the walls, the costumes and weapons hanging on hooks. The control room. On a nearby table sits a huge, serrated knife, the twin to the one the masked man wields. The Collector must have gotten it away from him during a skirmish.

You turn to face Asa, timid, terrified he’s going to hurt you for showing up here, but you find his weary gaze elsewhere. He’s watching the screens, dark eyes scanning, searching for the intruder.

You both spot him at the same time, strolling along one of the second floor hallways. He peers inside rooms, swinging that heinous blade around a finger like he has all the time in the world. Is he still looking for you, or for the Collector?

Asa sighs and slumps into a chair. Finally, he glances in your direction. The annoyance in his eyes makes you bite your lip and flinch and, on reflex, you drop to your knees.

The Collector blinks wearily and exhales sharply through his nose. “Watch him.” he orders, pointing at the screen. Earnestly, you nod, jumping to your feet once more and gluing your eyes to the screen.

Rustling behind you tempts you to look, but fear of disobeying more orders keeps you still. Tearing of paper, clinking of something metallic—easy to ignore—but it’s the hiss of pain that makes you twist around.

Asa’s shirt is gone and he fumbles with the antiseptic, the strange angle of the laceration on his chest difficult to see on his own. You hesitate for a moment, but the shaking of his hands prompts you to act.

Watching the man in the chrome skull mask out of the corner of your eye, you take the antiseptic-soaked gauze from the Collector’s fingers and gently dab along his wound. You wager his pure exhaustion is the only thing keeping him from gutting you on the spot, but if the tense look on his face is anything to go by, you’re in for it later.

If there is a later.

Asa hands you the liquid bandage and, as you carefully apply it along injured flesh, the deep vibration of his chest heralds his voice.

“There have been a series of murders in the south. You’ve seen it on the news, I assume.” You nod, vaguely recalling the story: Videotapes sent to police showing the brutal murders of various women.

Wait. Videotapes? You glance at the monitors again.

The camera on his shoulder.

“Him?” you exclaim, looking back to Asa in shock.

The Collector nods. “He fits the description.” You don’t question how he knows this. Instead, you wonder why the man is here. Your question must show on your face because he murmurs, “I’m not entirely sure why he’s here, but I suspect it’s something to do with me.”

He can read your damn mind.

You reach for more gauze to take care of his split knuckles, but find the first aid kit empty. He’s used it all up.

You know where to find more though….

“No,” Asa snaps, shaking his head when you raise your gaze to his face. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you glance at the monitors. The man is all the way on the other end of the floor above. You could make it back with more gauze before he noticed….

Asa’s hand darts out, grips your jaw, squeezes hard as he forces you to meet his frigid gaze. “No.” It’s sharp, final, the look on his face sending a thrill of icy fear down your spine. He’s had more than enough of your disobedience.

“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, eyes lowering submissively. A strained beat passes, your jaw beginning to ache under Asa’s rough grip. Worse pain is finally coming, you’re sure of it—

Calloused digits ghost along your upper arm and you flinch in surprise, eyes flying back up to his face. Heat instantly curls in your belly, a conditioned response to the way his hungry gaze assesses your frightened expression. It only takes the pressure of his thumb tugging down your bottom lip for a whimper to sneak past your teeth.

The Collector seems to remember himself then. There’s a quick inhale as he sits back, eyes snapping to the monitors, hands releasing you, pushing you away. Your own hand flies to your chest to feel your heart hammering under your palm. Thickly, you swallow, steadying yourself. On screen, the intruder still stalks through the halls, nearer than he was last time you looked.

Leaning his head back against the wall, Asa’s eyes close. Your own flit between his face and the cameras, the masked man closer now. He’s directly above you both, near the secret staircase. Back to Asa, his arms are lax, his breathing steady…. Asleep. How exhausted he must be to allow himself to sleep while you’re here, awake.

Back to the monitor, the man now picks at something on the wall, head tilted to the side, inquisitive, searching. He’s going to find it, the little divot in the wall revealing the hidden entrance.

You look to the door lock—will it hold—then back to Asa’s sleeping figure—should you wake him—long fingers sneak under the hook, pull, loud creaking of wood, it’s open, he’s on the stairs—

“Asa,” you hiss, hands wringing in front of you. The Collector doesn’t respond, doesn’t move, too fatigued to be pulled from his slumber. Thump, thump, thump, you hear the measured steps as the intruder descends the hidden staircase.

Do something! Distraction. You need to make some kind of distraction, something to draw his attention away from the both of you.

There’s no thought in your head as you move to the door, tug it open, slip outside, close it again. Going right will take you down to the basement, to the pen of the Collector’s drugged once-humans. To your left, the room of empty trunks and medical supplies, the staircase just beyond.

Left it is.

You reach the medical room just as the man rounds the corner. Spotting you, he doesn’t hesitate this time and instead sprints directly toward you with a surprising burst of speed. Heart leaping into your throat, you dive through the doorway, slam the door shut, twist the heavy lock.

The man rams into the door and you yelp, stumbling back into an empty gurney, sending it clattering and crashing into a closed trunk. A desperate, muffled scream from within pulls another shriek from you, your hands flying up to your mouth.

There’s someone else in here!

WHAM, WHAM!

He kicks the door, metal thudding noisily under his boot. Next to you, the trunk wails and shudders.

Shit, now what? You had not intended to endanger another person, even if their fate has already been sealed. But, if you linger too long, the man will move on down the hall, finding the control room and a helpless, dozing Asa….

Your sweaty palm closes around a scalpel. Swearing internally at your poor excuse for a plan, you twist the lock then jump back, scurrying across the room as far away from the door as you can get.

Silence.

Then, the handle rattles as it’s twisted, hinges squealing as the door swings open. In saunters your pursuer, his frame filling up the entire doorway, fluorescents gleaming off the chrome skull mask.

You stare at one another, your hands trembling, his reaching in his pocket for his knife and his phone. Keys click and you wonder what shouted message awaits. You brace, muscles tense, ready to fight or flee.

‘Pretty piggy, aren’t you? Are you his little house pet—

Screaming startles you both. “HELP, OH GOD, PLEASE!” shrieks the contents of the wobbling trunk. The man glances from the trunk back to you, like he’s waiting for an explanation. Shouldn’t he know what they’re for by now?

You say nothing, shuddering breath the only sound leaving your lips. The man shrugs, stalks over to the trunk, kicks it over. It hits the floor with a clunk, a stifled groan sounding within. Locks click and the lid swings open.

With a cry, a young man claws his way out of the trunk, arms flailing, blood and sweat and dirt staining his clothes and splashed across his skin. You can only watch, trepidation turning to nausea in your gut as the man in the mask grabs him by the hair, twists him around so he’s facing you.

The man from the trunk is weak from dehydration and exhaustion, his fingers uselessly tugging at his captor’s arm. A pathetic wail leaves his chapped lips when the serrated blade passes before his wild eyes.

There’s no chance for him, you realize, terror gripping your chest when the point of the knife sets against the victim’s ear. The man in the mask looks directly at you then and you can almost see the smile through chrome.

Your gasped, “Wait!” is interrupted by a sickening crunch as steel is forced into the ear canal and the skull beyond. The young man’s shocked expression freezes, goes slack, twists as the blade saws through flesh and bone. The cracking, snapping, squelching of sinew, the splatter of gore onto concrete makes you gag, stumble back, slap a palm over your mouth.

He doesn’t bother to look away from you, seemingly more intrigued by your reaction than what’s happening to the seizing body in his clutches. You so desperately want to tear your gaze away, but you don’t dare, not when you’re next. Not with the way he’s eyeing your quivering form like a hungry predator.

Your heart skips a beat when he glances down to grab hold of the mangled jaw bone. It’s the only chance he’s going to give you.

Go.

You sprint toward the open door.

Thud, thud, CRASH.

He smashes into you so hard it sends you careening into the wall, your skull cracking against its hard surface. Your vision blurs, darkens. Your knees buckle. The scalpel clatters to the floor, forgotten.

You would have crumpled to the ground if not for the hand gripping you around the throat, holding you up, torn, black nitrile squeaking against the skin of your throat.

Asa?

You blink. Blink again. Blurred vision clears. No. No, not Asa.

You must squint your eyes when a bright phone screen is shoved in your face. Dizzy, you read the typed message before it’s shouted at you:

‘Gotcha.’

Your dazed reflection stares back at you as the man bends, chrome mask level with your face. He glances down to type and you’re frozen in place when you realize he’s holding the knife, blade bathed in crimson. Across the room, the young man lays motionless, empty trunk at his side.

‘Who is he? What’s with the trunks?’ shrieks the phone. He wants you to tell him about Asa. You glance into the dark eye holes of the mask and shake your head.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

‘C’mon, doll. You don’t want to ruin his pretty toy, do you? How long has he had this place?’ As you read the text, the bloody knife is pushed between your shivering legs, flat of the blade coming to a rest at the apex of your thighs. A squeak leaves you, your body tensing, blood rushing furiously in your ears. Again, recklessly, you shake your head.

A huff sounds from behind the mask. The man shrugs as if to say, ‘Suit yourself.’ Reaching up to his shoulder, he presses a button on his shoulder camera. Red light flashes. He’s recording. There’s pressure against your groin—oh god you’re really about to die this time—

Everything disappears all at once—the hand around your throat, solid chest against your arm, steel on your crotch—seconds before a knife whooshes past your face, so close the air disturbs your hair as it passes. Following its path, you see Asa poised in the doorway, hand extended. He stares daggers at you and the masked man who has backed away across the room.

A shivering breath leaves you and you scurry to the Collector’s side, heedless of the ire radiating off him in waves. You’re in so much trouble, you’re dead, he’s going to cut you into little tiny pieces and feed you to his bugs….

‘Loyal doggy you have there. Where do I get me one of those?’

The man nods toward you when his phone speaks for him. You glance up at Asa. His face is unreadable, cold expression firmly in place. The mask tilts back down as another message is typed. You hold your breath. The Collector waits. Above you, fluorescent lights buzz.

‘Nice set up you got here. How much you charging for rent?’

You frown. The man’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. He’s…making jokes?

Asa is silent, still. You wonder what he’s planning. More keyboard clicking heralds another message:

‘Tough crowd. Alright, this has been fun, but I need a steak and something to fuck before I lose my shit.’

Before you can even react, there’s a wheezing exhale to your left. You must do a double take, your jaw dropping when you discover the sound came from Asa. He’d…he laughed.

Your eyes dart from one man to the other. They exchange something, some look you can’t read, some feeling you can’t place. There’s a shift in the tension, like a wave receding. Asa’s chin lifts slightly as the other man’s head tips minutely to the left. Are they…communicating?

The cell is back out, quick taps, and then, ‘Unless you’ll let me borrow that one’s mouth.’ He points to you as the words are screamed from the speaker.

Incredulous, you can’t suppress the scoff. You wait for Asa’s quick retort—

“Go ahead.”

Your eyes bug out of your head, “W-What—

But, the man in the mask crosses the room before you can finish. He twists a hand in your hair, drags you away, shoves you to your knees. You cry out when they crack against concrete, then hiss and squirm as he works his pants open.

“Behave,” Asa commands and you freeze, staring pleadingly at him out of the corner of your eye. He stands as still as a statue. When he meets your gaze, your stomach plummets, horrible understanding settling there instead. He’s going to let this happen because this is your punishment. This is your punishment for leaving the house, for coming here, for leaving the control room.

You earned this.

The man grips your jaw, squeezes until your lips pop open. Instantly, warm, hard flesh pushes past your teeth, fills your mouth, forces its way into your throat until your gagging, choking on cock and musky scent.

He releases a slow exhale and peers down at you. The hand in your hair twists tighter, holds your nose firmly against his pelvis as your poor throat spasms to accompany his girth. Tears well up, spill over, streak down your cheeks. The thumb of his free hand comes up to smear them across your face before he retrieves his phone once again.

‘That’s good. Cry for Daddy.’

You barely have time to suck in a breath when he pulls back before he’s shoving you down his length again. Thrust after vicious thrust assaults your throat, strangled, wet whines doing their best to escape. Drool spills down your chin, wets your chest, drips onto your pants.

‘Chirps, doesn’t she?’ shrieks the phone.

“Like a cricket,” Asa comments.

Through tears, you stare up at the black eyeholes of the mask. You don’t have to see his eyes to know they’re intently focused on your wrecked expression. He doesn’t make a sound, but you can tell by the way his thighs shake under your palms he’s affected. Close too, you hope.

With one final buck of his hips, your nose is pulled flush against him once more, copious warmth spilling down your battered throat. Only a long sigh escapes him, the muscles of his thighs relaxing with his release. Finally, your hair slips free of his fingers so you can scoot away.

Gasping, coughing, dripping, you move to slump backward, but your back hits something solid. Black boots, black pants…. Tipping your head back, you find Asa looming over you.

He seizes you under the arms, hauls you to your feet, grips your jaw so you look straight into the chrome mask.

“What do you say?” the Collector demands. You fight the grimace that threatens to sour your features, something that would surely mean more discomfort. Instead, you speak through shuddering inhales:

“T-Thank…thank y-you…Daddy.”

The man in the mask saunters forward until he’s standing inches from you and Asa. For a moment, you panic, realizing you’ll be skewered first should this strange truce be broken.

Instead, the man snaps off his bloody gloves and tosses them over a shoulder. He reaches out, hooks his fingers in the waistband of your jeans, runs his knuckles along the skin of your belly.

He’s not looking at you, though. Even with the mask on, you can tell he’s staring straight at Asa. The Collector stares back, his own hands releasing your jaw, sliding down your body to grip the fingers teasing your skin. Asa guides the other’s hands to the button of your pants.

Permission.

The man pauses. Finally, he looks at you. Phone in hand, he types one more message.

“Well, sweetheart. I’m Jesse.” You’re stunned to silence, baffled beyond words. Asa helps.

“Manners.”

“…Nice to meet you…Jesse.”

[haveyouseenthishorrormovie]

Stats from Movies 501-600

Top 10 Movies - Highest Number of Votes

Drag Me To Hell (2009) had the most votes with 1,156 votes. The Sudbury Devil (2023) had the least votes with 363 votes.

The 10 Most Watched Films by Percentage

Aliens (1989) was the most watched film with 59.5% of voters out of 785 saying they had seen it. Roadkill (2011) had the least "Yes" votes with 1.0% of voters out of 597.

The 10 Least Watched Films by Percentage

The Purge: Anarchy (2014) was the least watched film with 71.8% of voters out of 570 saying they hadn’t seen it. Awoken (2020) had the least "No" votes with13.4% of voters out of 677.

The 10 Most Known Films by Percentage

Aliens (1989) was the best known film, only 1.1% of voters out of 785 saying they’d never heard of it.

The 10 Least Known Films by Percentage

The Sudbury Devil (2023) was the least known film, 86,2% of voters out of 368 saying they’d never heard of it.

The movies part of the statistic count and their polls below the cut.

Wrong Turn 2: Dead End (2007) Wrong Turn 3: Left for Dead (2009) Wrong Turn 4: Bloody Beginnings (2011) Wrong Turn 5: Bloodlines (2012) Wrong Turn 6: Last Resort (2014) Leatherface: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre III (1990) Texas Chainsaw 3D (2013) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006) Ghostwatch (1992) Nekromantik (1988)

Hostel: Part II (2007) Hostel: Part III (2011) Antiviral (2012) Dead Ringers (1988) Drag Me to Hell (2009) Becky (2020) Stepfather 3 (1992) Roadkill (2011) Black Sheep (2006) Awoken (2019)

Exeter (2015) Excision (2012) Psycho Goreman (2020) V/H/S/94 (2021) The Lair of the White Worm (1988) Mad God (2021) Dash (2022) Don't Open Till Christmas (1984) C.H.U.D. (1984) Satan's Slave (1976)

Bad Taste (1987) The Deadly Spawn (1983) Let's Scare Jessica to Death (1971) Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981) Laid to Rest (2009) Chromeskull: Laid to Rest 2 (2011) Rosemary's Baby (1968) The Midnight Meat Train (2008) Underworld (2003) The Last House on the Left (1972)

Little Shop of Horrors (1960) The Hills Have Eyes (1977) Aliens (1986) Wrong Turn (2021) A Haunting in Venice (2023) Old (2021) Cloverfield (2008) 10 Cloverfield Lane (2016) Cloverfield Paradox (2018) The Invitation (2022)

Saw II (2005) Saw III (2006) Saw IV (2007) Saw V (2008) Saw VI (2009) The Curse of La Llorona (2019) Saltburn (2023) Saw 3D (2010) Jigsaw (2017) Spiral (2021)

Child's Play 2 (1990) Child's Play 3 (1991) Bride of Chucky (1998) Seed of Chucky (2004) Curse of Chucky (2013) Cult of Chucky (2017) Paranormal Activity 2 (2010) Paranormal Activity 3 (2011) Paranormal Activity 4 (2012) Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones (2014)

Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension (2015) Paranormal Activity: Next of Kin (2021) The Purge: Anarchy (2014) The Purge: Election Year (2016) The First Purge (2018) The Forever Purge (2021) Don't Breathe (2016) Don't Breathe 2 (2021) American Psycho 2 (2002) Dawn of the Dead (1978)

Day of the Dead (1985) Night of the Living Dead (1990) Diary of the Dead (2007) Survival of the Dead (2009) Happy Birthday to Me (1981) Bloody New Year (1987) Saw X (2023) Pieces (1982) The Sudbury Devil (2023) Demon (2015)

Butterfly Kisses (2018) 12 Hour Shift (2020) Bloody Birthday (1981) Def by Temptation (1990) The Hunt (2020) Godzilla (1954) The Babysitter (2017) The Babysitter: Killer Queen (2020) The Silenced (2015)

[loser4loserswhok1ll]

CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

🗝Brahms Heelshire (The Boy 2016)

🔪Michael Myers (Rob Zombie's Halloween Remakes)

📞Billy Loomis (Scream 1996)

🥩Stu Macher (Scream 1996)

🔧Bo Sinclair (House of Wax 2005)

🕯Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax 2005)

🛻Lester Sinclair (House of Wax 2005)

💋Jennifer Check (Jennifers Body 2009)

🪚Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 03-6)

🍖Bubba Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 74-86)

🦨 Nubbins Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 1974)

🪩 ChopTop Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, 1986)

⛺️Jason Voorhees (Friday The 13th Film Series)

🕷The Collector / Asa Emory (The Collector 2009, The Collection 2012)

☎️Billy Lenz (Black Christmas 1974)

💉Martin Matthias (Martin 1977)

📱Kurt Kunkle (Spree 2020)

🛎Norman Bates (Psycho 1960)

💄Tiffany Valentine (Chucky Film Series)

💀 Jesse Cromeans 'ChromeSkull' (Laid to Rest 2009-2011)

📞 Albert Shaw 'The Grabber' (The Black Phone 2021)

🎃 Patrick 'Trick' Weaver (Trick 2019)

📚Joe Goldberg (You Netflix Series)

i do any requested characters as long as i know them! so dont be afraid to get niche with it, i might be able to surprise you :]

these are just the ones i can think up rn lolsies

To Be Updated....

[riphimopen]

i love this so far. you guys really live this way?

[slasherkisss]

Housewife type s/o with Chromeskull, Jason Voorhees, The Collector and Harry Warden? I can only imagine how funny it would be.

Slashers With A Housewife/Stay-At-Home S/O

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

He really enjoys a stay at housewifely type of s/o, honestly!

The type of guy to come home and sweep them into a giant hug and spin them around

Having an s/o like that is good for his reputation outside of being a killer and he more or less uses them a lot to keep up that ‘image’ (if you’ve seen the end of laid to rest 2 you get the vibe i’m talking about)

If he comes home covered in blood and all his s/o does is fuss over him and clean him up? thats the best thing he could ask for

Dresses them up and makes them look super fancy. They’ll be the most doted on trophy spouse in their side of town

Jason Voorhees

Thinks his s/o is SUPER DUPER CUTE and is always filled with the urge to protect them

Nothing makes him more flustered than coming home to his cute s/o smiling and greeting him with a kiss and some fresh food

It makes his heart swell with emotion to be cared for. His mama would love them so much and be so proud of him for finding someone like this!

Marries his s/o on the spot and is so happy to have them in his life

Expect lots of kisses and gifts and cute date nights out because he is a gentleman and will do his best to show you his appreciation!

Asa Emory/The Collector

Enjoys having an s/o who is more homely

He relies on them to keep their shared home tidy and immaculate while he’s out -ahem- ‘working’

Asa is a clean freak so being able to come home daily to a clean space and a smiling s/o who has dinner ready for him is kind of his dream

Showers his s/o in praise and appreciation with kisses and words

Will sometimes bring them home a really nice gift (read: something he wants them to wear and knows they will)

Generally just values his s/o to no  end and if anything happens to them he’ll kill everyone in this room and then himself

Harry Warden

Doesn’t have any particular opinion on a more ‘homey’ s/o if he’s being honest

He doesn’t exactly live in the most homey of places, nor is he used to any sort of care or sight of someone waiting at home for him

Will constantly be surprised when his s/o is home, smiling and having things ready for him

Appreciates it even if it catches him off guard and shows his appreciation best he can

That’s usually through just hugs and pats on the head, a small gift or two if he’s feeling generous/his last victim had something he thought they’d like

[slash-em-up]

A Quiet Evening In: The Collector x Chromeskull

This is all smut. Rough, rowdy, bloody smut. One person in particular is to blame for this. You know who you are...

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

Asa could not have been unconscious for more than a few minutes; but that was apparently all the time Jesse needed to do his work.

The smaller man groaned as his obsidian eyes fluttered dazedly open, swallowing painfully around the bruise on his neck. A huff of breath met his bare skin as his companion observed his confusion.

Asa jerked forward, intent on returning the crushing choke-hold he’d been held in several minutes prior, only to find his arms and legs immobilized by thin lines of chord. He snarled as he struggled, unwilling to admit defeat this quickly in the game - but Jesse was having none of it.

A palm swung out quickly and caught the side of Asa’s face in a blow that would have brought a lesser man to his knees - thankfully, Asa was already sitting, splayed out on the mattress, completely exposed, and didn’t have far to fall.

His teeth snapped at the retreating hand, and Jesse broke away from sucking a deep bruise into his collar bone to reach for the phone he kept placed on his side of the bed.

‘Ah-ah old man, you’re mine tonight. I won fair and square.’

The electronic voice echoed through the cavernous room, and the bound man heaved again, attempting to buck his partner from his seat between his spread legs; but only succeeded in pressing his cock against the muscular thigh planted casually between his own.

The bastard had gotten re-dressed while he’d been… indisposed, and the expensive black fabric caressed his length in a maddening sensation.

Jesse rose just enough to smirk at Asa, the thrill of getting the better of the other man obviously doing wonders for his ego - and his arousal, if the bulge beneath his leather belt was anything to go by. The thigh was back in an instant, rubbing against his naked dick in a way that was clearly deliberate as Jesse pressed against Asa’s shoulders just enough to allow the taller man to bend him and access his chest once more.

His head dipped and Asa pursed his lips hard to keep from crying out as Jesse’s teeth sunk into the meat of his pectoral; roughly sucking but never coming quite close enough to the spot he knew would drive the bound-man mad.

It was only by Asa’s nearly super-human self-control that he was able to keep his hips from humping desperately into Jesse’s grinding thigh as the tall man switched sides, viciously attacking his sensitive nipple with teeth and lips.

His teeth bared and an involuntary keening growl left him as Jesse made his way slowly down his abdomen. Tracing each scar and mark with a playful tongue - nipping anywhere that made Asa flinch; but not truly biting until he was face-to-face with Asa’s now fully-aroused cock.

Abruptly, Jesse sat up - snapping his fingers as if he’d just remembered something important - leaving Asa to heave and writhe against his ropes in an effort to escape before the man returned.

Jesse nearly skipped back to the bed, holding aloft a silver ring.

It took Asa a moment to recognize the toy for what it was; but when he did his struggles increased ten-fold.

“Fuck you, fuck - you’re not putting that on me - fuck!”

Sadly; Jesse was a master at his work, and the ropes held - allowing the taller man to use his considerable strength to press Asa down before he slipped the chrome cock-ring over his dripping arousal.

He could only growl incoherently as Jesse lay in-between his spread and bound legs - looking for all the world like the cat that caught the canary - before beginning to mouth mercilessly at the sensitive skin along the crease of Asa’s thigh.

The first sharp bite wasn’t unexpected; but it did make him jolt. The second was even closer to his red, weeping cock, and if Asa was a lesser man he’d have been begging by now.

One of Jesse’s hands rose to play with his nipples as his mouth continued to suckle and tease Asa’s thighs.

The other slid like a serpent into the space he’d created between the bed and Asa’s body to fondle the other man’s weighty balls.

Asa did buck at this - though whether this was to knock the hand away or present the man with more skin to mark was unknown even to him.

His head tossed back and forth as Jesse switched to his other thigh, giving it the same treatment before his hand moved from his swollen sac to wet two long fingers briefly in his mouth.

“… The fuck… are you…?”

But Asa’s question was answered before it was even asked as Jesse pulled the broad man down by his hips, gripping his skin and keeping his legs spread as his fingers circled Asa’s thick cock, his balls, then down to his hole - pressing inside without pause.

Groaning at the stretch, Asa jerked his legs attempting to trap Jesse between them; but the slack on the ropes holding him spread were still too tight - all he accomplished was giving Jesse a good laugh as he began to thrust his hand roughly into the quivering hole of his partner.

Every breath exited Asa’s heaving chest in a breathy snarl as Jesse located and began to pound against his prostate, while his clever fingers wrapped teasingly around Asa’s cock and slid up and down in time with his thrusts.

The entrapped man collapsed back on the bed as Jesse’s hands abruptly left his body, only to reach and quickly undo the ropes holding his legs to the bed.

Asa sprang.

But Jesse was too quick, and ready for his attack.

A hard fist met his face like a sledge-hammer, and though he writhed and fought he still ended up tossed roughly to the floor on his knees - arms tightly bound behind him.

The blood dripped from his nose down into his mouth - giving him a feral look as he snarled and tried to whirl on Jesse; but once more the tall man had him beat.

His bruised neck was gripped tightly from behind, leaving him bent on his knees, forehead touching the cool granite floor of Jesse’s bedroom.

A flurry of colorful exclamations ran through the scientist’s head as a hand came down on the meat of his ass.

He was getting fucking spanked!

His head tossed back and forth against the floor as the painful blows rained down.

Jesse had always appreciated his ass… and he better enjoy this, because once Asa was out he was going to flay him alive.

Once the strikes ceased Asa could barely move - only peripherally taking in the sound of a zipper being undone, before Jesse’s hands were on him once more - this time taking large handfuls of his hips - pulling him up until his heated skin was met by Jesse’s own hard cock.

Asa could have cried at the sensations assaulting his body - the bruises, the bites, the blood, the god damn cock-ring - and if Jesse didn’t fuck him right now he might actually explode.

“Get inside of me Cromeans…” he snarled lowly into the silent room.

Jesse obliged.

The pair had a running bet that Jesse could always get Asa to scream for him when they fucked and he was feeling very, very close to winning that wager as his long cock sunk into the stretched hole before him.

Asa’s mouth dropped open with a loud “Ungh!” as Jesse hilted and began a punishing pace.

It was times like these that he bemoaned his lack of voice the most, because the litany of filthy praise that ran like a soundtrack in his mind every time he was able to get Asa under him would have been enough to make a piggy squirm. And he longed to see the blush he was sure would rise on the other man’s face. Still shy and unwilling to be complimented, even after all they’d done together.

This thought more than anything caused Jesse to throw his full weight into his motions, gripping the thick handfuls of skin and muscle that made up Asa’s hips like a life-line as he aimed for his prostate.

He could tell he hit it dead-on when Asa tried to bury his face in his own shoulder - muffling the rasping cry that left his bruised throat.

Each cry was hard-won and thoroughly enjoyed.

What little he could see of the man’s face was a mess of blood and sweat. His beautiful onyx eyes glazed in pleasure; but occasionally sharpening just enough in anger for Jesse to know that the cock-ring was holding Asa back from that final edge and he knew it.

He’d enjoy making the stubborn man beg for release.

Speaking of which…

Jesse pulled himself away from Asa’s body - taking a moment to appreciate how his hole fluttered in emptiness, small trickles of him pre-cum gliding down the bruised skin as Asa’s hip chased his own - before walking to face his partner.

Asa’s hair was thick and soft under his palm as he grasped it, forcing the other up from his sprawl.

There’s that look - the cold -ire promise that the second the tables turn and Jesse’s the one in Asa’s place… Jesse better cancel his plans for the day after.

But for the moment all Jesse can do is grin down at the bloody, bruised face of his lover.

He taps Asa’s lips.

They remain stubbornly shut.

Asa glares up at him defiantly.

Jesse sneers down before grabbing his face in a crushing grip.

Open or I break your jaw.

There’s a 50/50 chance he might have to anyway.

Asa contemplates for a moment before casually opening his mouth - long tongue lolling out like it’d been his idea all along, and would Jesse just get on with it?

The glint in his obsidian eyes betrays his pleasure as Jesse works himself to orgasm, spilling his cum across Asa’s face.

No sooner had Jesse stopped the final movements of his hands when his pleasure-filled fog is broken by the sound of ropes snapping.

Asa is on him like a tiger before he’s even fully aware of it - shredding Jesse’s clothes and yanking his slacks down his long legs.

A bright tinkling sound signals the removal of the cock-ring as Asa tosses it across the room; and Jesse can’t help but smirk as he’s man-handled back to the bed.

Fair’s fair, after all, and Jesse’s never been one to deny his partner a chance at pay-back.

As he feels a pair of handcuffs snap roughly around his wrists Jesse knows he’s in for a long night.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Correction

Jesse Cromeans x F Reader x Asa Emory (NSFW)

Part 1, Part 2

This is just porn, folks. No plot to be found.

Warnings: DADDY KINK, fingering, blood, edging/orgasm denial, squirting

Was this whole thing an excuse to write Asa wearing reading glasses? Perhaps.

~~

The B horror movie playing out on screen throws light and shadows across you and Jesse as you lay, intertwined, on the sofa. Across the room, Asa sits in a chair, reading glasses resting on his nose, lamp throwing soft light across the papers in his lap. Occasionally, you hear the scratch of a pen as he makes corrections to his students’ work.

Jesse’s fingers send goosebumps down your arms as they trace your skin. They trail up your shoulder, across your collarbone, skitter down your sternum before coming to rest on the bit of exposed skin on your abdomen. You shudder when he teases the waistband of your skirt, your eyes flicking nervously to Asa across the room.

Jesse must feel you tense because he brings both hands in front of your face to sign, ‘Ask Sir if I can play with your pussy.’ His words go straight between your legs, burrowing there until your skin burns and you’re leaking. Pushing to your feet, you hastily cross the room and kneel next to Asa.

“What is it, Cricket?”

“Sir, can Daddy please play with me?”

“If you can keep it down.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Instantly, you’re on your feet, hurrying back across the room to Jesse. Eagerly, he pulls you into his lap so your back rests against his chest. He hikes your skirt up to your hips and spreads your thighs wide, fingers reverently grazing the four, thick scars curling around your inner thighs.

Biting your lip, excitement jumping in your belly, you reach behind you to wrap your arms around Jesse’s neck, fingers brushing against his nape until he’s shivering.

‘No panties? Naughty Princess,’ he signs before slipping two fingers into your mouth. Coyly, you grin before sucking and licking the digits until they’re dripping. His other hand sneaks under your shirt to tease your nipples through your bra.

“Daddy, please touch me,” you whisper, twisting your head to place soft kisses to his exposed lower teeth. Jesse, happy to oblige, slips his tongue in your mouth before delicately running his fingers along your drooling slit.

He inhales sharply when he feels the extent of your desire and you smile again before sucking on his tongue. A quiet, warbly moan climbs up out of your throat when he slowly begins circling your clit. You stiffen in his lap in an effort to fight back any whiny sounds when he harshly twists a nipple, lest you disturb Sir.

But Jesse seems intent on pulling his favorite noises from your lips, despite what has been ordered. Two fingers bury themselves in your cunt and thrust, hard. The action grinds Jesse’s palm against your sensitive clit until you’re writhing, muffled mewls and whimpers barely contained behind your teeth.

“Daddy, daddydaddydaddydaddy, please, please, fuck, I’mgonnecum—

“No,” Asa commands sternly from across the room. You suck in a breath, arch your back, and glance across the room to find Asa still intent on his work. You wonder, for a moment, if you imagined it, but the irritable way he taps his pen on his notebook says otherwise.

Jesse’s shoulders shake in laughter. His fingers, paused mid stroke, slowly slide from your slick cunt to leisurely circle your clit until you whine. The hot coil in your gut trembles, poised to snap at any moment, any touch. You can feel his smirk when he reaches between you to unfasten his pants, freeing the thick cock that is sure to be your undoing.

“Oh, god,” you whisper as he hooks his arms under your knees and lifts, raising you off his lap enough to line up with your soaked entrance. The slow slide down his hot length, the delicious stretch, the wet squelch that reaches your ears is almost enough to make you cum. You curl your toes and clench your eyes shut with the effort of holding it back.

But Jesse, the sadist, shows no mercy. With vigor, he bucks his hips, slamming up into you until you’re tipping your head back and digging your nails into his neck hard enough to draw blood. The wet slap is so loud as it echoes around the spacious room; you’re certain Sir will be perturbed.

You sob, “Daddy, p-please-fuck-please slow down, you’re gonna-pleasepleaseohgod—

You tremble, your panting breaths making your chest heave as sweat beads along your brow. You burn from the inside, your quivering cunt begging to contract around the girth battering it so wonderfully, so perfectly. Tears prick at your eyes, your teeth digging into your bottom lip until you taste copper.

Warm, calloused fingers on your throat make you jerk in surprise. Your eyes fly open and you watch as Asa seats himself on the sofa next to you. He leans down, his lips hovering above yours until you can feel his even breaths washing across your panting mouth. Jesse slows his pace slightly, his thrusts growing softer so you don’t jostle and smash into Asa’s face.

Sir kisses you then, crushing his lips to yours, swallowing your frantic moan, dragging his tongue through the blood coating your bottom lip. Against your mouth he orders, “Beg, Cricket.”

“Sir, please, oh god please, I want to cum so bad, please let me cum on Daddy’s cock, please, I need-need—

Your words cut off in a shriek as Asa’s fingers find your clit, circling purposefully until you’re screaming, “Sir, Sir, Sir, I’m gonna-gonnacum, please, PLEASE, PLEASE!” Jesse redoubles his efforts, hips slamming into yours so hard you see explosions behind your eyes.

“Cum, Cricket.” Your response is immediate. Every muscle in your body contracts as hot prickles of pleasure course across your flesh. Your slippery muscles clamp down around Jesse’s cock so forcefully his hips stutter and he cums on the spot with a sharp exhale, filling your cunt as you gush onto his legs, the sofa, the floor. You shake, gasp, curse, writhe as Sir’s fingers pull every last shock of pleasure from your spent form.

With a haggard sigh, you collapse, boneless, back on Jesse’s heaving chest. His hands leave your legs, move to your face, twist your head until he’s slipping an appreciative tongue into your mouth once more. You whimper when you feel him twitch within you. Christ, you need at least twenty minutes to recover from that—

Asa grips you around the waist and tugs you off Jesse’s cock before laying you back on the sofa. He settles between your legs and you pale when moves to unfasten his belt.

“Let’s see if you can do that again.”

[oldunreliable]

Collector x Chromeskull x Reader

I’ve never written a fanfic before but new year, new me. It’s stupid long. I did not intend for it be a fucking book but it is. It’s got porn and what I personally consider to be humor. The reader is described as a college student with (brace yourselves) black features. Be the change you want to see, yeah?  It’s a work in progress so like, expect updates at some points. Enjoy or don’t. I’m having fun writing it. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22325761/chapters/53329435

[thesightstoshowyou]

Might I direct you to my Masterlist? I write lots of Chromeskull smut 😁

the amount of chromeskull smut on this site is heart breaking

[smexy-slashers]

Hello My loves🕸

This is an updated list of who I write for and my rules for requests ect. Have a good time on my page, any hate, racism, homophobia or sexism will not be tolerated.

Who I write for Confidently:

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy- 2016)

Billy Lenz (Black Christmas- 1974)

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (Texas Chainsaw Massacre- 1974)

Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre- 2003 & 2006)

Vincent Sinclair (House Of Wax- 2005)

Bo Sinclair (House of Wax-2006)

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax-2005)

Micheal Myers (Halloween- OG, Rob Zombie, Peepaw Myers)

Jason Voorhees (Friday The Thirteenth-1981-2009)

Asa Emory/Collector (The Collection Series-2010-2012)

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull (Laid To Rest-2009)

Pennywise (IT-2017)

Tiffany Valentine (Bride Of Chucky- 1998)

Poly!Ghostface (Scream-1996)

Hannibal lecter (Hannibal-NBC)

Rusty Nail (Joyride-?)

I will do female, Male and G/n Readers for each character except Tiffany Valentine, as at the moment, I can only confidently write her with a female or G/n Reader. Please specify the gender you want the reader to be when you request so there isn't a mix up!

What I Will Do✔:

Oneshots

Headcanons

NSFW Alphabets

Any NSFW scenarios, or smut.

Fluff

Angst

What I Won't Do❌:

Pedophilia

Incest

Graphic Rape/Non-con

Anything particularly gross (I'm sorry my loves but I won't write about a piss kink or a foot fetish, to each their own, I just find it yucky)

Your request will take between 1-3 days to complete, as although I love you all,I am a human being and cannot write and get inspiration like the speed of light. You are all wonderful people and are deserving of love and respect, so I hope you have a nice time reading my stuff and requesting whatever you want. There are no limits to requests, just please be respectful if yours takes longer to complete or if I don't feel comfortable with writing your request. Ps, if you request headcanons for characters, your limit is 4, as it is pretty exhausting writing for every character on my list at once 😭

Farewell my loves<3

-lizzie ;)

🍁~🍁~🍁~🍁~🍁

[sexycraisinthanos]

We need to stop making “good movies” with billion dollar budgets and end up being remakes or just shitty cash grabs or just plain boring to watch and go back to bad movies with the budget of $7, but are fun to watch and you can tell that everyone involved had a great time making them

Like, the most popular example, Endgame. Budget of $350 million. Mediocre at best. (I personally enjoyed the 2012 segment but the rest of it was a letdown) It was the finale of one of the most popular franchises in modern media. And it ended with: Killing off Iron Man in the WORST POSSIBLE WAY (AFTER he had already had a family and settled down), retiring Captain America, entirely out of character, killed off the only female Avenger in the same way that they killed off the only female Guardian in the previous movie, before her movie could even get made. The ending was so hyped that the Russos were worried that people would share the ending, which if the entire movie can be ruined by spoiling the ending, then it’s a shitty ending. They don’t care about the characters they were given. It’s just hot trash. Sure, the effects were nice and I’m in love with Big Lebowski Thor (WHICH they refused to advertise in ANY of the promos. Either because they were afraid of spoilers or because they’re fatphobic and even after the movie was released, we still don’t have SHIT for him besides three Funko Pops and I’m going to die on this hill mad about it), and we got to see some nice banter between the characters. But if you asked me, who saw it THREE TIMES, anything that happened in it, I wouldn’t be able to tell you off the top of my head. Nothing was memorable about it. Maybe Steve holding Mjolnir. And everything Thor did in the movie. But plotwise? Nothing. It’s just a fart in the wind. 

On the other hand, I recently watched the Chromeskull movies (called Laid to Rest, but the second one is called Chromeskull: Laid to Rest 2) They were obviously low budget and the movie had such a limited run that I can’t even find out what the budget was. But the movie was FUN. You cared about every character. They weren’t really realistic characters, but they were fun. They were GOOD characters. They were competent. The villain (Chromeskull) wasn’t some supernatural killer like Jason. He wasn’t a behemoth like Michael. (Even though he’s 6′7″). He went down easily. He got hurt. A lot. It was nice to see a slasher villain get hurt and STILL end up being scary. Even in the sequel you find out that he’s got everyone wrapped around his fingers. He has his own private cult of people. And the practical effects were SO GOOD. Like it was brutal. But it wasn’t over the top, which is rare for a slasher. The cherry on top of it all? The movie is fucking INSANE. The basis is this guy in a skull mask is trying to hunt this girl down who woke up in a funeral home with amnesia. He spends all the movie chasing her down and killing all the people she was with. Just to get to her. AND THEN THE MOVIE ENDS WITH HER BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. The movie had its flaws, as all movies do. I can’t think of a movie that didn’t have any flaws. Like the weapons he had for killing didn’t exactly match up to the kind of damage he actually DID. Also the reveal of the girl’s true identity was kind of a letdown. I was hoping she was like his partner in crime or something and he was just trying to get her back. And that’s just the FIRST movie. The second one is EVEN MORE BATSHIT. 

just give us more movies that are fun

[thenewsmag]

Πορνοστάρ που έχουν παίξει σε ταινίες του Hollywood - Cineramen

Πορνοστάρ που έχουν παίξει σε ταινίες του Hollywood – Cineramen

Abigail Clayton[4] Bye Bye Monkey (1978)[4] Maniac (1980)[4] So Fine (1981) 1978 Aino Kishi[5] Samurai Princess (2009) 2009 Alexis Texas Bikini Frankenstein (2010) Bloodlust Zombies (2011) 2010 Amber Lynn 52 Pick-Up (1986)[10] 1986 Andy San Dimas Drive (2011) 2011 Angelina Armani Bucky Larson: Born to Be a Star (2011) ChromeSkull: Laid to Rest 2 (2011) Creep Van (2012) Fear…

[divasfantasticasdohorror]

Danielle Harris (Danielle Andrea Harris) — ( 01/06/1977 -  ) Local de Nascimento: Plainview, New York (EUA)

Atriz, diretora e produtora associada.

Filmes como atriz:

Halloween 4: O Retorno de Michael Myers (Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers/1988)

Halloween 5: A Vingaça de Michael Myers (Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers/1989)

Lenda Urbana (Urban Legend/1998)

Halloween: O Início (Halloween/2007)

Left for Dead (2007)

Prank (2008)

H2: Halloween 2 (Halloween II/2009)

Blood Night: The Legend of Mary Hatchet (2009)

The Black Waters of Echo's Pond (2009)

Cyrus (2010)

Terror no Pântano 2 (Hatchet II/2010)

Stake Land - Anoitecer Violento (Stake Land /2010)

The Victim (2011)

Chromeskull 2: Não Descanse em Paz (Chromeskull: Laid to Rest 2/2011)

Shiver (2012)

Among Friends (2012)

Terror no Pântano 3 (Hatchet III/2013)

Hallows' Eve (2013)

Tom Holland's Twisted Tales (2014)

Camp Dread (2014)

A Maldição de Goodnight Lane (Ghost of Goodnight Lane/2014)

Assassino Invisível (The Town That Dreaded Sundown/2014)

Noite do Terror 2 (See No Evil 2/2014)

Havenhurst (2016)

Terror no Pântano 4 (Victor Crowley/2017)

Inoperable (2017)

Camp Cold Brook (2018)

Between the Darkness (2019)

Redwood Massacre: Annihilation (2020)

Natty Knocks (2023)

Project Dorothy (2024)

Curta-metragem:

Postpartum (2016) Fade Into You (2012) Burying the Ex (2008)

TV:

Twisted Tales (2013) - To Hell with You

Fear Clinic (2009)

Jovens Bruxas (Charmed/1998) - The Fourth Sister

Creepshow (2021)

Filmes dirigidos por Danielle:

Among Friends (2012)

Prank (2008)

Produtora Associada:

Blood Night: The Legend of Mary Hatchet (2009)

[slash-em-up]

I Was (Not) Born To Be A Cowboy Pt. 3

Ok, so since this seems to be turning into an actual story, I’ve pulled it out of the one-shot series ‘Meeting of the Minds’ and renamed it as its own piece. Apologies if this is confusing to anyone!

BTW, NSFW below!!

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

You would never admit this to a Jesse but you were actually having a pretty good time on the ranch.

If you discounted the freezing weather and the hands-on farm work, it was almost like a camping trip.

And you were getting pretty good at most of the daily tasks, if you did say so yourself.

Not by any merit of your own – Asa had kept his promise and taught you enough to keep you mounted on your horse;  and Brody, along with the other ranch-hands, were nice enough to not make fun when you dropped the lead on one of the cows and had to chase her around the paddock – but you could definitely tell there was no love lost between Jesse and the cowboys.

It started at breakfast.

Once you’d arrived at the mess, you’d been introduced to the five other hands that worked the ranch. Mr. Ephriam was nowhere to be found, which you thought was a little odd; but hey.

The men all seemed like friendly enough guys until Jesse came huffing through the door.

“Hey there Stretch, where’s your horse at?” one of the men queried.

Reaching angrily into his pocket, Jesse pulled out his phone and typed out his answer, letting the electronic reader give out a monotone ‘Dr. Emory stole it’

The man chuckled at that, giving Asa an appraising look.

“How are ya, Doc. I’m Henry, I run this place when Mr. Ephriam ain’t here. You know your way around horses?”

Asa turned from his place in the food line and faced the man, raising an eyebrow behind his glasses at being dubbed ‘Doc’.

“Enough to get by.”

Henry gave an approving nod.

“It’ll be nice to have one of ya around that can keep his seat. Ever worked with cattle before?”

Asa shook his head.

“Well, you’ll catch on quick. Or ya won’t. Be interesting to watch…”

Henry turned to look at you momentarily before grunting and returning to his eggs.

You didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

You joined Jesse, who’d seated himself in the corner as far away from the others as possible, and was currently moving what looked like beans around his tray with a spoon.

“Proper cowboy breakfast, huh?”

‘I miss coffee…’

“You literally have a full mug of it sitting in front of you.”

Jesse looked affronted.

‘THIS is not coffee, this is what comes out when you clean a gutter.’

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh please, like you’ve ever cleaned a gutter in your life…”

Jesse’s retort was cut off as Asa sat beside you, taking a long sip from his own mug.

“At least the coffee is decent.”

You choked on your potatoes and Jesse glared.

Asa looked confused (for Asa) and went straight on to befuddled as Jesse lobbed a biscuit at his head.

‘Keep it in your pants ‘Doc’.’

Asa sneered.

“Easy enough, ‘Stretch’.”

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

“I can’t do this, I’m going back to Illinois.”

You could almost read the ‘take me with you’ in Jesse’s eye as he leaned against the wooden fence, watching you try your hardest to lasso a very slippery calf.

It has all started out so well too. You were sure nothing as cute as the baby cow before you could give you too much trouble; but boy oh boy had you been wrong.

You turned to watch Asa and Spann ride by – herding the grown heifers as if they’d been doing it for years – while Jesse and you were stuck chasing these adorable little monsters.

“Show-offs…” you muttered.

Jesse nodded in agreement, sending a glare at the two riders.

Twin looks of disapproval met his, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Asa and Spann were usually on the same wave-length when it came to handling Jesse’s childish behavior and you found it hilarious.

The length of rope making up your lasso flew once more through the air, coming pitifully short of the tiny brown calf.

“Dammit!”

Before you could reel the loop back in a dark-sweatered form passed you with a ZOOM. A tiny yelp left your mouth as you watched Jesse charge towards the calf - who immediately took off, prey instincts telling it to GET AWAY as fast as it could.

You couldn’t help but flinch a little as you watched Jesse run - while he was extremely fast and almost graceful when he was chasing a piggy, he had a tendency to be… less so when he wasn’t in a hunting mind-set. 

And the mud in the pen looked pretty damn slippery…

Jesse overtook the tiny cow quickly and hoisted it up and over his shoulder like he would any other body, looking incredibly proud of himself as he walked back to you, keeping the tiny cow held tight as it wriggled.

“Well that’s one way to do it.”

A jerk of Jesse’s head indicated that you should open the pen you’d been trying to lead the calf into and soon the baby was locked in safe and sound with its friends.

Smirking, the two of you passed by Asa and Spann - heading back to the cabin now that your task for the afternoon was finally finished.

You’d nearly cleared the fenceline when the mud got the better of Jesse’s footing and he plummeted into the freezing muck with a loud squelching noise.

Unfortunately, on his way down he’d grabbed your shoulder in an attempt to steady himself and his much larger form was more than happy to take you right down with him.

“FUCK!”

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

You’d discovered that the saving-grace of the overall chilly ranch was that it had hot water, and lots of it. It had become your habit over the last couple of days to end your evening with a boiling shower before curling up in front of the fire between Asa and Jesse.

Having been thoroughly dipped and dunked in some icy dirt made you even more grateful for this as Jesse and you trudged together towards the bath-house.

It reminded you of your gym’s locker-rooms, honestly. 

It split into two sections, one for men, the other for women and as you entered there were several rows of lockers and benches for people to stow their goods in before getting undressed and occupying a shower stall.

You grasped Jesse by the hand before he could turn into the men’s side.

“Nuh-uh, you got me dirty, you’re cleaning me up.”

Any fatigue he’d been showing left Jesse immediately, perking him right back up as he offered you a grin.

His brown eye twinkled seeming to make no promise that you wouldn’t leave the shower dirtier than when you’d arrived.

You let out a squeak of surprise as Jesse lifted you effortlessly into his arms, pausing for a moment so you could wrap your legs around his hips before pressing a deep kiss to your lips.

The three of you hadn’t had the energy or privacy to be intimate like you usually would, and you were starving for this.

Your hands gripped Jesse’s shoulders as he deepened the kiss, walking you both through the lockers and into a stall.

Gasping, you pulled away to catch your breath and turn one of the dials, starting the shower.

Jesse’s hands were everywhere, feeling you up and pulling at your clothes as you did the same to him.

He preened as you rid him of his sweater and ran your hands admiringly across his tattooed skin.

Once you were both naked, you found yourself pressed tightly against the wall as Jesse sucked and kissed your neck.

“Oh god, Jesse, yes…”

His large hands nearly encircled your ribcage as he lifted you once more, letting you rest between his body and the wall - the cool tile creating an intense contrast with his water-warmed skin.

You could feel his cock pressing insistently against your entrance and you grasped Jesse’s shoulders tightly in an effort to fill yourself with his erection.

He glanced up at your face - eye’s glinting in a devilish way as he moved his hips just out of your reach, then back - small thrusting motions against your skin that were driving you wild with need.

“Fuck, please, get inside me… stop teasing you bastard!”

Jesse stepped away from the wall, causing you to cling even tighter to his wet skin as he brought you both back under the heated spray.

He grinned with satisfaction as he lowered you inch by inch onto his cock, lifting you and pulling you down slowly until you were fully seated.

Your head lolled back in ecstacy at the feeling of being so full. Jesse was large enough that just by filling you he hit nearly every sensitive nerve inside your body, and it was all you could do to keep from cumming right then and there.

Jesse shivered at the feeling of your inner muscles clamping down on him as you tried desperately to stave off your orgasm.

He’d never let you or Asa hear the end of it if you came from just his cock entering you.

When he finally began to move, his pace was still torturously slow - you could feel the desire to cry out with every thrust increase as he drew out your pleasure, pausing his movements over any place he found that made you writhe in sensitivity.

He was a god damn evil man and you were ready to tell that him just that as soon as he moved his cockhead away from your g-spot.

You were panting and whimpering as he finally decided to take pity on you and began thrusting at a rapid pace, bouncing you on his cock like you weighed less than a feather.

Supporting your back with one arm, he brought his free hand down to rub roughly at your clit, causing you to scream to the ceiling and jerk your hips up into his grip.

You came like an atom bomb and tightened like a vice around Jesse.

He nearly lost his grip and leaned back into the rough tile wall to support your bodies as he threw his head back and came inside of you.

Releasing you slowly, he gently lowered you to the floor, letting you lean against him in the shower spray until you’d caught your breath.

“I missed that.” You said, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

Jesse grinned down at you before signing ‘It hasn’t even been two weeks yet. Miss my cock that much?’

You were feeling far too languid from an excellent orgasm to tell him off, so you simply reached around and pinched his ass instead.

“Among other things, asshole.”

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

Warm and clean, you returned to the cabin wrapped tightly under Jesses arm.

To both of your surprise, there was a suspicious lack of Asa in the cabin and a note pinned to the door.

It was in Spanns writing

‘Mr. Cromeans,

Please bring Y/N and join Asa and I in the mess-hall. I think you’ll enjoy this.

-Spann’

“What the hell? What does that mean?”

Jesse shrugged, looking perplexed by his second’s cryptic note.

“Up for another ride?”

You could tell Jesse wanted to make a joke; but one glance over at Sugar soured his mood immediately.

‘Not particularly...’

You hummed in amusement, tucking yourself back under his arm.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to end up in the dirt again.”

Jesse scowled; but pulled you closer anyway. His distaste for the cold overcoming his annoyance at your cheeky comments.

Giggling, you both headed towards the mess-hall.

To Be Continued...

[thesightstoshowyou]

I don't think you understand how happy I get when you post things. I would just like to let you know that your blog is my happy place

Oh my goodness 😭😭😭😭 Bless you for leaving this comment.

Here, have this as a ‘thank you:’

~~

‘He doesn’t like chocolate.’

“Yes he does! Stop arguing with me, I know what I’m doing.”

‘Babe, in the entire three years I’ve known him, he has never, once, eaten chocolate.’

“He’s really sneaky about it. I found his stash at the hotel once. I promise you, he loves chocolate.”

‘How do you even know it’s his birthday? He never talks about it.’

“I saw his birth cirtificate. He gets really grumpy when you bring it up but I’m hoping the cake will distract him.”

‘It’s your funeral.’

As if on cue, the elevator dings, signaling Asa’s arrival to the penthouse. Quickly, you whip your apron off your head, dry your hands, and move the cake to the end of the counter. Jesse stuffs his hands in his pockets and slinks behind you. You can feel his skepticism so you hastily smack him in the arm and hiss at him to, “Smile.”

‘I’m wearing a mask—

“Happy birthday!” you interrupt, grinning and clasping your hands before you as Asa rounds the corner. He freezes and fixes you with his trademark frown, mail clutched in his palm, work bag half off his shoulder.

You don’t back down, “I made a cake—chocolate—and we have dinner coming from that place you like.” Still, Asa says nothing. He tabs through the mail before tossing it on the entryway table. Carefully, he sets his bag on the ground before gradually crossing the room to you and Jesse.

Your smile doesn’t falter, no matter how much you want to balk and flee to another room. Asa holds your earnest gaze for a moment before slowly bending down and pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. Silently, he turns and heads to his office.

Grinning triumphantly, you turn to Jesse and stick out your tongue. He shakes his head and smacks your ass so hard you yelp.

[thesightstoshowyou]

White Wedding

Jesse Cromeans x F Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Cheating, knife play, blood play, daddy kink, degradation, breeding kink, possessiveness

~~

Carefully, you ease through the double doors leading out onto the veranda. When you gently push them closed, the cacophony of laughter, clinking glasses, and cheesy wedding music drops to a tolerable level. You sigh in relief, the tulle along the bottom of your elegant dress scratching against hardwood as you pace to the balcony.

You move to rest your chin in your hands, but stop and cross them instead when you remember how much makeup you’re wearing. A genuine blushing bride. Too much blush, in your opinion, but who are you to question your new mother-in-law?

I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m happy.... Maybe if you say it enough, you’ll start to believe it.

In your purse, your phone chimes. The tune tells you it’s a text. Retrieving your phone, you pale at the name that flashes across the screen. Of course he’d text you now.

‘Did you wear that just for me?’

The words make you glance wildly around you. A glint catches your eye and you swallow nervously before meeting the darkened eyeholes of the skull mask. He waits at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, gloved fingers tapping along to the beat of the muffled song spilling from the ballroom.

‘Come here, pretty bunny,’ Jesse’s phone screams at you. You automatically take a step forward before remembering yourself.

“Jess, you shouldn’t...you shouldn’t be here. I’m...this...is my wedding.” Undeterred, Chromeskull uncrosses his arms and and crooks a finger at you, beckoning you closer. You bite your lip, glancing anxiously over your shoulder.

This is so stupid, so, so, so incredibly stupid, someone could come out here any second....

You can’t keep from shuffling forward; it’s as though he’s a damn siren luring you to your demise. Your heels click on the veranda as you make your way to the stairs. Jesse extends a hand and, hesitantly, you accept. Breathtakingly fast, he pulls you to his chest and effortlessly scoops you into his arms. You grip him around the neck as he carries you, bridal style, to the parking lot.

You wish you could go back in time, wish you could skip the party that led you into Jesse’s arms. Ironically enough, your fiancé—husband, now—had been the one to introduce you. A work colleague, he’d explained. You’d been captivated, completely charmed by the strange, silent man in the chrome skull mask. He’d had you bent over his desk before the end of the night.

You were so easy for him.

The setting sun glints off the sleek black car parked at the back of the parking lot. “Jesse,” you protest weakly as he sets you on the hood and pushes you back with a hand on your chest. The vehicle is still warm under your bare back.

‘I want to see that pretty white dress turn red.’

Your heart leaps into your throat when you read the words on his phone screen. Jesse produces one of those horrible knives from his pocket and drags the flat of the blade down your chest. Your shallow, panting breaths push cold steel into your cleavage and you whimper when Jesse slices you, twice, one cut above each breast.

Black, gloved fingers drag through the crimson that trickles down your skin, smearing it across your flesh and your crisp, white bodice. Your pathetic whine turns into a gasp when Jesse fists the fabric and rips, tearing open your bodice enough to reveal your breasts. Bloody fingers circle your nipples, tugging and twisting until you cry out and flinch away.

‘Oh, poor puppy. Does that hurt?’

“Y-Yes,” you stammer when he shoves the phone in your face. Jesse pauses, tilts his head, puts his hand to his ear like he can’t hear you. You bite your lip and murmur, “Yes, Daddy.”

Leaning back, Jesse grasps a handful of your dress and saws through the tulle until he reaches the apex of your thighs. You only have a moment to lament over the distruction of such an expensive gown before he’s shoving your legs apart. He grips your hips and grinds his hard, clothed cock against your panties until your breath hitches.

‘These are new,’ he teases, tugging at the waistband of your white, lacy underwear. He pauses again when he catches sight of the garter encircling your thigh. You can almost feel his grin when he slides the knife under the garter and tugs, pulling the little secret off and tossing it unceremoniously over his shoulder. Your underwear meet a similar fate.

Your racing heart stutters in your chest when Jesse presses the cool handle of the bloody knife against your clit. Your fingers scrabble on the hood of the car when he rolls the end over the sensitive bud. A tremulous moan spills from your lips, a sound that tapers into a whine when he stills.

Tap, tap, tap, he types, then, ‘Use your words, kitten.’

“Please, Daddy, I-I need you. Please...please fuck me.” Shame and guilt twist in your chest when you speak, but the burning need between your legs won’t let you stay silent. He’s like a drug, one to which you are hopelessly addicted.

Chromeskull pockets his knife, then his phone before ripping open his dress pants and freeing his other weapon. You scoot forward eagerly, nearly drooling at the sight of the hard cock he holds in his fist.

All it takes is one, swift thrust and he’s buried in your dripping cunt, so deep you wonder if you’ll break. Jesse claps a hand over your mouth when you scream, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He only has to rock into you one, two, three more times before tears prick at the corners of your eyes, the deep stretch too painful and too good all at once.

You moan against his hand, wrap your legs around his hips, fist your hands in the lapels of his jacket. Jesse bucks hard, rutting into your cunt like he’s trying to hurt you. Like he’s trying to ruin you for anyone else.

Your moans turn to shrieks and you’re glad for the palm muffling the noise lest the entire wedding party hear your infidelity. More tapping reaches your ears and you open your eyes in time to see the wall of text Jesse holds before your face:

‘You’re going to cum, slut, and then I’m going to fuck a baby into you. You’re mine, bunny. Every part of you is. Mine. Being married isn’t going to change that.’

For a second, you panic. No, no, he can’t. But then, the idea of being connected to Jesse in such a way, knowing you’ll have a part of him no one else will ever know about takes root and you let your eyes close in euphoria. You gasp, arch as wanton pleasure explodes in your belly. Desperately, you buck your hips, tug on his jacket to pull him closer. He moves his hand so you can latch onto his neck, squealing into his flesh as he exhales sharply and paints your slippery cunt with his seed.

You tremble in Jesse’s grip, panting feverishly across his neck as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm together. You whimper when Jesse shifts. He prods at the corners of your mouth until you’re smiling, then holds his phone at arms length to snap a photo. You groan when he shows it to you. You’re a wreck; hair disheveled, mascara running, lipstick smeared across your face, bloody tits on display.

‘Mine. Got it?’ he signs, standing and straightening his clothes.

“Yes, Daddy.”