#slasher x reader

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose V (lost Sinclair!daughter reader AU)

Hi everyone, this is the final part of my Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

You can find part I here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, killer!reader, mentions of guilt, violence, murders, blood, some sort of dark angst/comfort

You quite enjoyed your summer break in Ambrose. You loved to sculpt with Vincent, you loved to watch your dad work on a car and to have him show you things, you loved to wander around with Lester. You loved to play with Jonesy as well. Everything felt good. You never slept so well in years, because you were finally feeling safe enough to fully relax.

You hadn’t asked about the tourists anymore because you didn’t have enough strength for more drama for the moment. And whenever people were coming around, the brothers made sure you were busy somewhere else in the town or with Lester. You pretended you didn’t notice anything. You just wanted to be happy. 

And for the moment, your own desire to kill has quieted down. You were still feeling sick from the murder of your mother.

The brothers didn’t notice anything amiss; apart from the fact they still hadn’t heard the sound of your voice, you were once again their ray of sunshine. You were making them so full of joy. The twins were talking, late in the night, about the legacy once again. They hadn’t thought they could resume their plans on this matter. They were so relieved.

However they were a little bit concerned about your adoptive father. They were certain that even if the man wasn’t doing too well for the moment, at some point he would want to get “his daughter” back. The twins had no idea how to cut him out of your life without killing him. Bo would love to murder him - out of jealousy - but he knew that you would know it one day, and he didn’t want to upset you that way. Both your mothers already died after all…

You were having a snack in Bo’s garage while he was taking care of a new car. You were sucking on the chocolate that dripped on your fingers, as you were listening to the music your father put on. You were both enjoying each other's presence even if you weren’t interacting directly. Bo was always a lot more at ease when you were in the same room than him or at least in his line of vision. He was still traumatised; he lost you once, and he promised himself it would never happen again.

You slightly jumped when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. You grabbed it and frowned when you saw it was your adoptive father. Bo noticed the look on your face.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked you as he came closer to you. You put your phone on your lap so you could sign

“He is wondering where I am.” you replied, knowing Bo would understand who was the “he”. You father rolled his eyes and groaned

“Oh so he remembered he's supposed to look after ya?” he ironized and your crossed your arms on your chest “Don’t pout” he hummed and kissed the top of your head

“I’ll have to tell him I’m here. I can’t lie to him about that. Just be nice to him, okay? Things are difficult and… And he won’t be happy about the situation because…” you trailed off

“Because what?”

“Well before mom got sick, she discovered I was chatting with you and Vince and Les, and she was worried about me. She wanted to call the cops on you” you explained. Bo didn’t show any emotion but you read in his eyes that he was quite concerned about such news

“Luckily she got sick then” he commented out loud before realising it “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean it like that” he quickly added as you looked away. Luck had really nothing to do with it, you thought.

“Anyway, I will tell him I’m here. And he’ll probably come get me. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t call the police or anyone” you promised as you got up and left the garage

You needed to be alone to write to your adoptive father: “Hey dad, are you feeling better? I didn’t really have anywhere to go so I went back to Ambrose. Everyone is very nice to me and Bo is inviting you over (so please don’t call the police, they really didn’t do anything wrong!). Will you bring me back home?”

The answer was almost instantaneous: “Yes, I will. I won’t call the police because I shouldn’t have asked you to go away in the first place. Love you, I’m sorry for everything”

You were relieved, knowing he wouldn’t be lying to you, not after what happened, not when he had failed his mission of taking care of you.

You came back home and settled at the kitchen table, thinking about what to do next. You didn’t want to leave Ambrose but you wouldn’t be allowed to stay here. You tried to busy yourself on some silly games on your phone but soon enough you grew bored. You were feeling quite upset as well. For the first time in weeks, you wanted to kill someone. You needed to express yourself in another way than sculpting or drawing. You needed to take out your frustration on someone, but there was no one to kill here.

Vincent opened the basement door, in need of some water when he saw you. He quickly saw you weren’t your usual happy self. He put an hand on your shoulder for you to look up at him before signing:

“What’s wrong?”

“My adoptive father will come get me. I think he should be here tonight” you replied

“Do you want to go?” Vincent tilted his head to the head, you quickly shook your head

“No, but I can’t really do anything about it”

You could tell that Vincent wanted to say something but didn’t dare and he simply sadly nodded his head at you.

“How about we make something together? Would it cheer you up?” he offered, which made you smile

“I’d love to”

As you focused on the art you were making with Vincent, you forgot about your adoptive father and you forgot about the time. Your need to kill quietened down, but was still there, waiting for you to be on your own to eat you up alive once again.

You were about to finish a sculpture of Jonesy you intended to offer to Lester, when you heard two vehicles coming into Ambrose. You looked at the window, but didn’t recognise your adoptive father’s car. There were lost “tourists” who were following behind Lester’s truck. Vincent tensed and looked at the clock before asking you:

“When do you think your adoptive father will come here?”

“I’m not sure, soon I guess” you shrugged but you saw the panic rising into Vincent’s eye

“Alright. I let you finish the sculpture without me. We have work to do. Stay here, please.” Vincent replied

“What work?” you frowned

“Promise me you will stay here” Vincent asked, firmly signing each work. You understood he was pretty serious about it

“Of course, I promise you, uncle” you finally replied as you sat back down and watched Vincent leave the room and go back into the basement.

You were about to go back to your sculpture when you heard people violently arguing. The “tourists” didn’t seem to be too happy with Bo. Lester was quick to intervene as well. You watched the scene of a man pushing Lester to the ground, and Bo hitting the said man. Your eyes widened at such a display of violence. You nibbled on your bottom lip. Were your family killers, or was it just bad people disrupting the peace of Ambrose?

You saw that things were getting pretty rough between the three tourists and your father and uncle. You wondered where Vincent was, and almost got into the basement to look for him… Until you saw your adoptive father’s car coming into view. He really couldn’t have arrived at the worst moment. He stopped in front of the garage and tried to put himself between Bo and the man, and to appease the situation. Bo asked him to go away, you guessed, according to his gestures. And your adoptive father refused.

You were too far away to see everything, and even more when they seemed to come more into Bo’s garage. You just knew that at some point someone screamed. Two tourists ran away, Lester ran after them with what seemed like a knife, and Bo was covered in blood. You had to stop yourself from leaving the house. You wanted to help, and you wanted to be the one covered in blood. However, you never broke a promise you made to your family before, so you had to be better, you had to stay inside. You didn’t know where your adoptive father was anymore and you grew worried. How could things go so badly after such happy weeks in Ambrose?

Bo grabbed a rifle and was about to go after the tourists when he received a massive hit on the head from behind and fell on the ground. You saw your adoptive father with some mechanic tool in his hands.

You couldn’t stop yourself this time. You took the gun Bo was hiding under his armchair and ran to the garage. You had to stop them, you had to do something about it. You couldn’t scream or you would have. Your legs brought you in front of the two men with such speed, as the adrenaline was pumping into your veins. Before you knew it, you aimed at them.

Your adoptive father who was ready to hit Bo stopped his movement as he noticed you and he brought his hands in front of him. Bo was still on the ground, pretty disoriented by the hit he received on the head. He looked up and saw you. You had never looked so much like a Sinclair before. He knew you were his daughter then; he wouldn’t even be disappointed if you decided to kill him.

You were perfect.

“What are you doing? Shoot him, shoot him! He killed the guy, and he wants to kill us all. Your mother was right, they are murderers!” you adoptive father yelled as you eyes moved between him and Bo

“I won’t hurt ya, baby” Bo whispered to you “Everythin’s alright” he continued, trying to sooth you. And one thing was certain, you wouldn’t stand to never hear him talking to you like that anymore.

You looked back at your adoptive father, tears in your eyes. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were about what you were going to do, about what you did to his wife, but with the gun in your hands, you couldn’t.

You shooted and closed your eyes. His body loudly fell to the ground and you shivered. You looked down at Bo and helped him to get up.

He quickly hugged you before gently rocking you, so you could calm down. You didn’t cry in his embrace, you felt at peace. You felt like everything was as it always should have been.

“Ya alright?” Bo whispered to you as he cupped your face into his bloody hands. You nodded and sniffed.

Screams resonated from the House of Wax and you moved from Bo. You were ready to help, you were ready to kill some more but Bo grabbed your wrist. He softly took the gun from you and kissed the palm of your hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. Les and Vince are taking care of the two others. Ya can rest now. Ya did amazin’. Ya saved me, ya saved the family” he hummed, pride shining into his eyes. “Told ya everythin’ was gonna be alright,” he added as he brought you back against him once again.

You couldn’t fully relax, not knowing if your uncles were doing alright. You kept your face towards the House of Wax, waiting for them. Soon enough, you saw them pulling two bodies out of the museum and you felt the adrenaline leaving you.

“I need to sit down” you signed to your dad who quickly nodded. He opened Lester’s truck and sat you down at the passenger seat, as it was the most comfy place he could offer for the moment. He didn’t want you to see the body of your adoptive father either.

“Stay here, I’ll be back soon” he murmured. He needed to let his brothers know about what happened. 

Soon enough, they were all around you. You quickly scanned them, to make sure they were unharmed. They didn’t really know what to tell you. They were happy, of course, but they weren’t too sure how you were feeling. You killed the man who raised you for years, after all.

Truth to be told, you used to feel guilty because of the death of his wife that was driving him crazy, but now they were back together. You felt free. You felt ready to kill again, to kill for the family business.

“Bo told us ya did the right thin’” Lester told you and you gave him a soft smile “Feelin’ all good?” he asked and you nodded.

“You don’t have to feel bad for having… killed him, you know. You protected your real father, you protected us. You did what you had to do” Vincent signed to you, even if Bo and Lester weren’t too sure that reminding you you killed him was a good idea. To their surprise, you relaxed into the seat and nodded again.

“I am a Sinclair” you said in a rough voice you hadn’t used in years.

--

Taglist : @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210 ; @slushi-chan

[torikengel]

Soo… it’s been a long time. And when I say a long time… eh 3 years. I wanna get back into writing, And I was thinking if there’s still anyone who would want another part of my Thomas Hewitt X reader fanfic “Make me Sway”.

If there’s still anyone interested I will be glad to get back to it, plus I was thinking of writing more x readers (specifically for Wrong Turn & Hannibal TV series).

[pathetichimbos]

hey guys not to be dramatic but if thomas hewitt doesnt walk into my house with our wedding rings right fucking now i am going to become violently ill

[how-serene]

Really wish I could send from my sideblog but could I request Brahms Heelshire with the prompt 'are you here to kill me?' please?

You can take that in any direction you want, I love him so much, he's my dirty wall-lurking ratboy and I love it when he's cute but also unhinged lmao when I saw him in the tags of your requests post my eyes lit up like the 4th of July and I knew I had to give this a shot~

Hold On Tight, Love

Pairing - Brahms Heelshire x Neutral!Reader

Summary - Tired of waiting, Brahms finally makes contact with you.

Word Count - 1k+

Warnings - no use of y/n, brahms being a creep, non-con touching, he technically holds reader hostage

A/N - AGHH thank you for requesting him dear anon! I've been wanting to write for him for a while but wasn't sure on an idea. It's such a shame the actual actor had such little screentime. I hope I did your idea justice, enjoy <3.

Brahms balled his fists, steeling his nerves as he quietly approached your sleeping form. Even in the dark, he could still make out the faint outline of the comforter hugging your body. The floorboards were cold beneath his bare feet, as he continued to shuffle forwards. Outside, the wind howled, harshly blowing through the towering pine trees that surrounded the house. Their long branches clustered around the bedroom window, shielding a view of the stars splattered against a jet black sky.

The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his weight, yet they did not disturb you. Brahms' could feel his heart rattling within his ribcage, as he carefully kneeled beside the bed. Soft snores fell from your plush lips, as a heavy arm was slung over the porcelain doll. His viridescent eyes raked over your dozing form, watching as your chest slowly rose and fell. 

Somehow, over the length of your short stay, this had become a nightly ritual for him. Watching as dreams danced through your head, masked behind your resting eyelids. You were at peace, the day’s tension temporarily falling away for the night

He sighed, leaning his cheek against the edge of the mattress. 

You nuzzled further into the pillow, hand sliding forward to hang over the edge of the mattress. His breath hitched from the movement, wide eyes wandering over your outstretched arm. Your flesh was so tantalizing close to him now, almost as if your body had subconsciously reached out to him. His hand trembled, as his fingers creeped over the covers to hover over your curled fist. The urge to reach out and grasp onto your hand was nauseating. He had painfully waited, stayed hidden and out of sight for so long. Peering at you through cracks in the walls, and keyholes. Watching glimpses of your presence float through the house, unaware of his looming existence. If it weren’t for the echoes of your footfalls walking through the halls, he would have believed you to be a ghost. A fragment of imagination the house (and him) had conjured up out of loneliness. What if touching you revealed your existence to be nothing more than a dream, a phantasm he so desperately wanted to believe in? 

A faint whisper left your lips, ineligible and gone before he could begin to decipher it. The longer he stared at you, he could feel the simmering ache, buried beneath years of solitude, bubble up to the surface. 

‘What if…’ he pondered, hand timidly creeping over the cover. The pad of his index finger grazed over the skin, trailing up the bridge of your pinky. He shuddered, a wistful sigh escaping through his teeth. The edge of his nail dragged over the bumps of your knuckles, memorizing the interwoven lines embedded in the skin. He hummed quietly to himself, warmth pooling in his stomach from the sensation of your soft skin against his. Brahms absentmindedly watched as his fingertips danced and drifted over your hand, tracing faint shapes. His heart threatened to leap out of his throat, and present its pulsing, grotesque body onto the bed for you. 

Brahms palm gently swept up your bare forearm, like a sculpture tracing the curves of its creation. Although, he never could have created you. You were radiance itself, something bright and warm in the otherwise desolate house. The stain of your shadow now forever resided in the halls and corridors. How could you expect him to keep his distance? 

He must have been so caught up in his head, for the next thing he knew his hand was flung back. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You demanded, distancing yourself from him. Brahms slowly rose from his position on the floor, watching your movements behind strands of disheveled brown curls that hung over his eyes. You leapt to the other side of the bed, arming yourself with a lamp that sat on your bedside table. 

“It’s alright.” He assured, cautiously stepping around the bed. His voice cracked, the high pitched tone he dawned nearly slipping. “Please, everything’s alright.” 

You pointed the lamp at him, a pathetic attempt to guard yourself. He cooed, false words of reassurance dripping from his lips like honey. Brahms sounded like a lover, uttering words of comfort to his lover after waking from a nightmare. 

Even through your haze filled head, the adrenaline pumping through your veins was enough to alert you that you were far from safe. 

“Put that down.” He ordered, voice dropping a few octaves. The veil was thinning, and becoming harder to wear the more you shied away from him. 

You swung the lamp, throwing the shade off in the process. “Stay away from me.” 

Brahms frantically shook his head. “Please, don’t ask me to do that.” 

The lamp was hastily thrown at him, as you dodged his arms trying to swing around your frame. You climbed onto the bed, feet coming tangled with the disordered sheets in the dark room. He groaned, kicking the now broken object to the side.

Brahms wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You thrashed around in his secured hold, digging your elbow into his ribs. He groaned in discomfort, the pain only encouraging him to hold onto you tighter. 

“Let me go!”

He maneuvered to sit on the bed, bringing you down with him to sit on his lap. His burly arms entrapped you, cradling your struggling figure against his chest. 

“Dammit, who are you?” You asked again, eyes glancing up to meet his gaze. Your eyes swept over the porcelain like mask he wore, now being able to see it more properly up close. All movement ceased from you, as recognition flickered in your pupils. You peeked over at the undisturbed doll, peacefully resting against your pillow. The smooth, pale ceramic face eerily resembled the mask belonging to the strange man. 

He swallowed, the sweet fruity scent of your shampoo blurring his surroundings. The tip of his nose bumped against your cheek, cool porcelain causing goosebumps to form on your skin. He inhaled, letting out a deep guttural groan as the citrusy aroma of oranges wafted into his nose. You grimaced, and pulled back from him. 

“Are you…” You licked your lips, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the answer. “Are you Brahms?” 

He nodded, cheek rubbing against the back of your hair. A beat of silence passed between you two. 

“Are you here to kill me?” You quietly asked, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. He could feel you trembling, despite being pressed up against his warm, sweaty skin. 

“No, no.” He soothed, beginning to rock you in his arms. “I could never do that.” 

His fingertips dug into your skin, trying to comfort you. 

The rest of the night was spent in Brahms iron steel hold, waiting anxiously for dawn to break through the line of branches covering the bedroom window. The doll, quiet and still as ever, watched as the night dragged on and on. 

Endlessly.

[issdisgrace]

Asa with a s/o that is equally obsessed with bugs like he is. I imagine them being like little kids showing each other their new toys but like with bugs instead. They would have dates where they go to museums and zoos to look at bugs. They would get each other taxidermy bug or maybe lives ones who now’s for present. As well as stuff with bug patterns on them. It would be so fucking cute.

[small-sinclair]

Vincent lifting your chin and gazing into your eyes just because he can…

…sigh…

[mauswyx]

give thomas glasses

Sloan wore them so bad eyes could be genetic or is just something that happens overtime with age or circumstances

Him working in that dark basement is definitely putting a strain on his eyes so that’s not helping

And sewing in the dark! Oml yeah he needs ‘em

Would be in denial 100% it’s going to take a lot of convincing that it’ll improve his way of life and work (that’s what gets him)

Not leaving to go to an optometrist so having to scavenge through victims’ belongings until you find a pair that isn’t broken and the closest prescription (lvl: hard mode)

Doesn’t fuss over the design of the frame so that’s helpful

Is amazed at how much clearer the world is

extremely grateful that you went through all that trouble to help him

~•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•~

“Mornin’!” You called cheerfully rounding the kitchen corner “Did you- Tommy where are your glasses?”

The large man stopped his descent down the stairs and shuffled awkwardly in his place, embarrassed to have been caught. They had been lost or better flung off in the last round up. It's not like he hadn't tried to look for them! But searching without them. . .proved difficult.

Averting his eyes from your quizzical gaze, he lamely waved his hand around in a general motion with a gruff huff.

“They’re . .around?” You raised an eyebrow “Thomas Brown Hewitt did you lose the glasses I slaved to find?”

He would’ve paled at the sound of his full name being used had it not been for the upturned quirk in your lip. You were just teasing him. Thank god. His shoulders relaxed. Losing the glasses you personally searched for him was one thing. Losing them and having you mad at him was another. He could die somewhat at peace with the former.

Reassured that you did not hate him for his transgression, he gave a small nod

“Well. . .that’s on me,” you sighed making your way up the stairs “I knew I should’ve put one of those chains on it!”

You squeezed past him on the landing, grabbing his hand as you passed and pulling it with you—forcing him to follow back up the stairs. Thomas hung his head and obediently followed without complaint. No longer able to feel embarrassed with his new focus being your hand on his. Leading him past a handful of doors, you stopped in front of your own bedroom.

“Now, we’re not going to make this a habit.” you smiled playfully waving a mock-accusatory finger at him before pushing your way into the room.

Not make coming into your room a habit or not losing his glasses a habit?

He hoped you meant the latter.

Dropping his hand, to his dismay, you made your way to kneel next to the bookshelf that sat snuggly between your bed and adjoined bathroom. Glancing up and noticing he was still in the doorway, you raised your arm to give your bed a pat.

“Come on I don’t bite.”

Thomas hesitated but decided it was probably best to do as you say. He quietly shuffled across your room, watching as you moved objects out of the way attempting to reach something hidden. He tried to sit down as gently as he could but the bed still creaked angrily.

“Yeah she’s a bit noisy, right?” You huffed pulling yourself onto the bed next to him having seemingly found what you were looking for on the bottom shelf. In your lap sat a moderately sized jewelry box. He shot you a questioning glance.

“I didn’t want Jedidiah to come scavenge the frames.” you explained with a shy smile.

You flipped the lid and exposed the gutted interior of the box. Instead of compartments for rings or earrings and such sat a heap of a dozen or so glasses. Thomas leaned over slightly to examine more closely what you had done only to realize you two were sitting shoulder to shoulder, he quickly pulled back and tried to scoot away but the bed, being too small, only gave a small grace of an inch or two between you.

“I figured it might be a good idea to keep whatever intact pairs I could find,” you continued, not seeming to notice his retreat, “just in case something like this happened.”

Thomas stared blankly, not only were you keeping spares for his sake but you were protecting them...for him? You’d secretly done him an act of service that most likely would have gone unnoticed had it not been for this exact scenario. The thought of you keeping him in your thoughts while he wasn't around made his stomach churn and his face flush.

You let out a breathy laugh and picked out a pair, “Well let’s get to work, we don’t have all morning!”

Thomas remembered the previous time you had helped him find a relatively useful pair so the process was not unfamiliar at least. You’d hand him a pair to put on, he’d shake his head if it wasn’t any good, you’d hand him a different pair in response while moving the duds into a pile for Jedediah to make his crafts with, and so on and so forth. Though the process was tedious and repetitive, he could never get used to your hand gently brushing against his or the way you peered up to him eagerly waiting for his response. That was something he was remorseful for, without his glasses he couldn’t see your face as clearly.

“Well this is going exceptionally better than the first time.” you hummed recalling how he had slapped a pair out of your hands at your first attempt to put them on his face or how he accidentally snapped a pair’s temples having forgotten to be gentle with them.

Thomas smiled behind his mask in agreement. Moving to take the current pair off, he froze. You had placed your hand on his masked cheek and slowly turned him to face you so you could place a new pair on him yourself. You let your hand linger on his cheek as you gazed into his eyes. Thomas swore you were bearing your eyes into his very soul and branding his skin, through the mask, with your touch.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, the hand that didn’t hold his cheek in place absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair behind his ear and caused his breath to hitch. If you hadn’t noticed how red he was before, you certainly noticed his heavy breathing and beet red face now.

“Um how’s that?” you coughed out, quickly shoving your hands into your lap and looking everywhere but at him.

Snapping back to the task on hand, Thomas gave a small jump trying to discern whether or not the pair was working. And wait a minute. He could see clearly! Much more clearly than the last pair at that too!

Thomas hummed happily and nodded his head at you.

“Wait really!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands together “Wow what luck you look so handsome in this pair too!”

He let out a choked wheeze and quickly stood to avoid your beaming gaze. Thomas didn't care what anyone else said—you certainly knew how to go in for the kill.

“Ah wait! Let me look for a chain!”

[slxsherwriter]

Pay for Past Sins

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x single mother female reader

Word count: 2,529

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, blood, injuries, threats to a child character

Author's note: I wanted to play with the idea of allowing Rusty to show off that more violent and aggressive side of him since I've written him more softly. In the end, I actually struggled a bit with the way that he would handle things, so I think I found a way to go about it that suited everything. As always, not beta read. Mistakes are my own. Enjoy! Likes are always appreciated, but reblogs keep the creative muse fed.

Tagging: @tinalbion @umnitsa

Stickiness on the side of your face. A deep, pulsing throb in your head. You made a move to reach up and touch where the pain seemed to be radiating from, only to not be able to move your arms. A quick jerk confirmed the fact and panic welled in your chest. What the hell? The tightness around your wrists registered as well as the stretch in your shoulders. Your hands were restrained behind your back.

The last thing that you remembered was having dinner with Rusty and Michael. Michael. You tried to push yourself up. It took a little more effort than expected and only made your head feel worse, the pain sharpening briefly as you righted yourself. It took a moment, some slow breathing with your eyes squeezed shut, to let the worsening pain pass. Once it felt like your head wasn't about to pop like a grape, you opened your eyes. The room around you wasn't all that impressive. Dark, dingy. A dirt floor beneath you meant any movement caused little clouds of dirt dust to whirl in the air. It was quiet. Eerily and uncomfortably quiet. Panic curled in your gut and your chest, for a moment, leaving you feeling breathless. You had to get free. Where was Rusty? Where was Michael? Were you the only one who was tied up in this? There were a lot of questions and no answers. As you shifted your wrists, causing the material to bite further into your skin, you looked around for any sign of your son first.

“Look who's awake.” A voice off to your right spoke. There wasn't a body that you could see, just shadow movements. Blinking, you tried to clear your eyes more and find the shape of the individual that was speaking. “You aren't going to get yourself free. Might as well stop now.” The voice wasn't one that you knew, unrecognizable. But still, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

“Who are you? What do you want?” In case he didn't have Michael, you didn't want to say anything right away. As much as you wanted to know where he was, protective instincts demanded that you didn't put him in any more danger.

“You know, you must be really sick in the fucking head, being with him.” Nothing about the statement made sense. Him? Who the hell was he referring to? Did this have something to do with your ex? The two of you had been separated for nearly a year now, the divorce done and over. He was the one who initiated it. Despite the warning, as you thought about what could have brought you here, you continued to wriggle your wrists to try and get free. Footsteps sounded out, moving closer by the second. “That the case? You get off on the shit that he does?” Without warning, your hair was yanked back, forcing your head back, and pain to worsen again. A cry slipped from you before you could stop it. That's when you tasted blood in your mouth. The stickiness on the side of your head had to be blood.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Bullshit!” He used the hold that he had on your hair to force you to your feet, no other choice in the matter to avoid any additional pain. “That fuck killed my friends, tried to kill me. Too bad for him that I survived. Me and my girl. So, now is time for some payback. We came prepared and you are the key to that.” He kept talking like what he was saying was supposed to make sense to you.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you pleaded, hoping the man would either believe you or at least give you a little more context as to what was going on. If you knew what he was referring to, maybe you could talk your way out of it. Maybe. But if he had kidnapped you and had hurt you, it was likely not something that you could talk your way out of, but you would give it a try.

“You don't know what I'm talking about, huh? Maybe if you see his work then you'll remember. This is your home after all since you're his bitch, isn't it?” He pulled you forward before forcing you to sit down at a table. To your horror, your son was tied up to a seat across from you. Michael seemed to be knocked out, or sleeping. There wasn't any markings that you could see but it still didn't stop the rush of emotions that came over you.

“Listen, you can do whatever you want to me. I don't care. Just….leave him out of it. He's an innocent boy.” You struggled against the hold and the restraints with a renewed vigor. That only pissed the man off further, and the next thing that you knew, you were slammed face down. There was an audible crunch, and blood filled filled your mouth as it poured down from your broken nose. The pain caused your eyes to water and a small sob to escape.

“You think I care about any of that? You're both connected to him, so you both get the same treatment. He needs to know what it's like to lose.” Your heart just about stopped in your chest, despite the dizziness that caused the room to spin around you as your head was yanked back once more. “Now, I think you need a little taste of what my friends and I experienced.” You had no clue what that actually meant, but you knew it wasn't any good. Ears ringing still from the blow to your head, you missed the fact that he stepped away. There was rummaging behind you and then metal hitting metal that made you flinch.

Michael began to stir and your heart leapt into your throat. No. If he saw any of this….

Something rumbled in the distance. The man behind you laughed.

“Right on time.” He cut the restraints on your wrists and yanked one of your hands forward. You struggled against his hold but couldn't break out of it, even as you nearly fell out of the seat. A metal spike was driving through the top of your hand into the table. The pain was jarring. Hot, intense, and overwhelming, causing your vision to blacken at the edges. The scream that came from you was reactionary, a response that couldn't have been controlled and enough to wake up Michael.

“Mommy!” Shit. The nerves were on fire, and it radiated up your arm. Muscles spasmed, causing your fingers to twitch uncontrollably. The man moved towards Michael.

“No, no! Don't touch him!” The words choked through your pained sobs, tearing a raw spot in your throat. Shaky legs held your weight against all odds as you stood up. There was no chance there you could reach across the table and stop whatever was about to happen. Even as you tried, despite the way that it caused sheer agony to yourself. You couldn't let the man touch your son. Even seeing the fingers trail through your son's hair was enough to make your blood boil. “Mike, it's going to be okay, baby.” He was already crying, and you knew that there was only so much you could do to reassure him in the moment. The room wobbled around you, blackness creeping further into the edges of your vision.

He had mentioned something about another person, and the thought came to your attention. Where were they? Potentially others. As in more than one. A scream came from behind you, somewhere in the depths of the barn looking thing that you were in, and it caught his attention. It was a minor miracle that his hands came away from Michael. Though, that relief was short-lived when he produced a pistol from the back of his pants. His attention had been fully pulled away from the two of you. As he moved from the table, you tried to watch him, confirming that he wouldn't look. More screams before he was hollering out names. Ones you didn't care about.

“Michael, baby, I need you to close your eyes, okay? Please, just listen to Mommy. I promise everything is going to be okay.” You needed him not to watch what was about to happen. He nodded, sniffling, but ended up listening to you. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed at the metal spike that was keeping your hand pinned to the table. There was enough, just enough, for you to grab. Biting in the inside of your cheek and on your tongue in an effort to muffle the pained noises, you tried to yank it out. Getting free from the table was imperative to your health. More voices began to sound out, causing your hand to slip. “Shit…”

“Easy there, darling.” You jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, tugging at the wound and causing another cry to slip. “Shit, don’t move.” The warm familiar touch pressed into your lower back, and a low hiss came from the man as he inspected the wound on your hand. He murmured a soft apology and did what you had just attempted to do. His large hand, already covered in blood, dwarfed your own. He made it seem like the spike was nothing. It hurt just as badly as it came out as it had when it had been rammed into your hand. He pulled a rag from a pocket and quickly wrapped it around your hand. If you didn't focus on the movement of his hands, there was a significant risk that you would fall to the floor, feeling the way that your legs shook. His touch was gentle, seemingly going through familiar actions as they never faltered as he wrapped the rag tightly around your hand.

“Need you to listen, okay? Get Michael out of that seat.. Can you do that for me?” You gave a shaky nod, knowing that if you didn't get your son out of the seat, it wouldn't be good for either of you. “Good. Get him out of the seat and then find a spot to hide. I don't want them getting to you again. I'll find you soon, and we'll get you patched up.” His hands cupped your cheeks gently, taking in the bloody mess your face had become. There was something else he wanted to say, the familiar hesitant look coming over his face. Thumbs brushed softly over your cheeks. He had always been gentle with you. They dropped away, and he let you do what was needed.

Rusty watched her shift towards a darkened corner, behind some junk that remained inside the barn. The one place that she should have never been. With her and Michael safe for the time being, he could turn his attention back to the few that remained inside with them. None of them would survive the night. That much was certain. They touched what was his, harmed her, and risked harm to the boy. He had to shift gears quickly once more and go back to the anger that had been present from the moment he had found them missing at the restaurant. He had no doubt that she would have just disappeared on him, and that instinct had been right.

There would be explaining that needed to get done later, but it was hardly a worry. She couldn't go anywhere. There were two of the group already dead. He didn't know how many were left. At least another three, judging by the cars out back and the walkie system that they had set up. He grabbed the spike that had been shoved through her hand and pocketed it before shifting back through the quiet of the old barn. Their downfall? They didn't know every inch of wood like the back of their hand. It was different from anything he had dealt with before since he was worried about the two bodies in the corner rather than focused on wiping out everything that moved. He didn't have time to plan, time to use to his advantage. But it hardly mattered. Improvisation would have to work for now.

Silently, he slipped through the space, fingers curling around an old rusty metal pipe flecked with the blood of previous victims. Rusty paused, careful with the sounds around him. One was close.

Under normal circumstances, there was a sense of enjoyment in the actions. The swinging of fists, the gurgling cries and pleas, the warmth of blood as it soaked his hands and clothes. A sense of poetic justice that he delved out for discretions committed by those that just wouldn't learn otherwise. But this? This was entirely different. The movements were almost autopilot. His focus was getting through the entire ordeal as quickly as possible. He wanted to get back to far more important matters, which were huddled hidden in a corner. Crimson slowly coated hands further, violence unleashed in the brutal manner that left no question of what the outcome would be.

When the last one fell, Rusty let out a huff and glanced down at the body before him. Fucking asshole. He hadn't gotten away this time. The thought brought the realization that he had brought this upon both of the people that mattered the most in his life. Guilt and worry churned in his gut now that the job had been done. The barn could be cleaned up later. He had others to take care of and that would require a hospital given the extent of injuries he had seen.

You shook as you clutched your son to you, trying to cover his ears and shield him from whatever horrors were happening beyond the darkness that concealed the both of you. Adrenaline was wearing off, and the blood loss combined with head trauma had left you feeling woozy. All you could really do was rock your son gently and try to assure him everything was going to be okay through the quiet crying he was doing. Even when it wasn't. There was no way things could be okay. Heavy footsteps came closer to your hiding spot, and you scooted backward, pressed tightly into the tiny corner. It was instinctual that your torso shifted, protecting Michael as much as possible from whatever was about to come.

It was Rusty. The large frame of the man appeared and unconsciously, even though you didn't want to, your body relaxed. He was at the end of the junk pile that you had taken refuge behind.

“It's okay now, darling. Come on. Need you to come on out for me. Okay? Gotta get you, and Michael looked at.” Looked at? The room spun around you, the words sounding further away and more fuzzy by the second. “Sweetheart I…” The rest of the words couldn't be made out, hell, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. There was wriggling and the weight against your chest and in your lap vanished. All before the blackness at the corners of your vision seeped inward and overtook everything.

[valluvslana]

:3

[illusioninfnty]

day 15 ; keeping quiet

↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher

fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.

Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.

“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.

You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress. 

You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.

No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.

A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.

A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.

It was one of the ghostface masks. 

You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.

It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.

Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.

The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.

In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face. 

“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.

But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”

You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.

Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”

He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.

You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.

He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.

You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear. 

And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.

“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.

Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.

You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.

If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.

You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.

Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.

He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.

“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.

“She knows, man.”

Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.

Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?” 

The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.

He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.

You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.

He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.

“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!

But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.

“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”

Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”

Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”

As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.

“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat. 

You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later. 

Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”

“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.

Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.

“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”

He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.

“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.

“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”

Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect. 

“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.

You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.” 

“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.

Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”

“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”

He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.” 

“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.

A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.

You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.

“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself. 

Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s. 

“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”

His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.

“Good. Now stay quiet.”

Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions. 

Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”

Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.

The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”

Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.

“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.

He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.

As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.

Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.

His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.

Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.

Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.

You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.

“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.

“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.

You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.

Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.

But Stu is nowhere near stopping.

With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.

“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.

You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.

You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.

Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.

“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.

Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.

When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.

“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.

You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.

You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.

“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.

Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.

Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.

“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”

[loveandmurders]

You are the final girl. You have been fighting off your slasher for years, decades, even. You are never safe, and the slasher is completely obsessed with you. No matter how many times you believe they are dead, no matter how many times they end up in prison, they always find their way back to you.

One night, everything seems lost.

You are covered in your own blood, mixed with theirs, on your knees. You are going to die this time, there is no way out of this mess anymore. You are shared between disappointmenet and relief.

And yet, your slasher is standing in front of you, watching you with something like sadness.

Slasher : It doesn't have to be like that, it doesn't have to end like that.

You : How then?

Slasher : Join me, be mine, I could be all yours. And together, nothing could stop us. We could burn this whole world down to the fucking ground.

You look back at them, wondering if they are toying with you. But they kneel in front of you and cup your face, hopefull.

The choice is yours : becoming a villain or dying as a not so final girl anymore.

[whorrorfix]

if i survived a slasher it’s because i fucked him

[pathetichimbos]

[amisunderstoodgoddess]

Hunt - final

(part one here)

Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?

Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)

Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.

I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.

You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.

It's then that the memories come rushing back.

Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.

How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?

When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.

------

The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.

You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.

It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.

The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.

Nothing is familiar.

You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.

The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?

Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.

Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.

He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.

The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.

You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.

He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.

You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.

The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.

The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"

Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.

“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"

The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”

He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.

"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.

He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.

"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.

"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.

The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.

"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."

You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.

“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."

The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.

You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”

“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"

You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.

Even if you have difficulty accepting it.

Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.

“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.

“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”

He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.

“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."

Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."

That word, again.

Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.

Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.

You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.

A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.

“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."

You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.

“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."

As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.

His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.

And it makes the heat spread between your legs.

There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.

That purr again.

A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.

As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.

The invisible thread of a scent.

The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.

It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.

Suddenly you can't speak.

The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.

“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.

You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.

The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.

What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.

You're not squirming to get away.

The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.

You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.

He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.

You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.

In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.

Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.

Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-

Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.

You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.

What is this, anyway?

You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.

It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.

You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.

He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.

Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.

Two things become clear to you then:

1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.

2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.

His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.

But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.

The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.

It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.

The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.

His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.

It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.

It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.

“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.

Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.

A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.

He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.

His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.

“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".

A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.

He looks between your legs. Really look.

Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.

Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.

You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.

His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.

Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.

The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.

The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.

The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.

“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”

His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.

"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.

You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.

"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.

A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.

You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.

He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.

Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.

It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.

Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.

You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.

He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.

"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.

Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.

...

That's it.

There is no slow entry or split stretch.

He just pushes and goes in.

You scream.

It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.

Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.

Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.

The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.

"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.

And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.

“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”

“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.

Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”

God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.

“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.

“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.

There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.

Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.

“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.

The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.

"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.

He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.

His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.

"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.

"What--"

"Say my name."

Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.

"D-Doh'kein."

He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.

Only then does he say. "Beg."

His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.

“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.

He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.

He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.

He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.

You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.

“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”

“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.

You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.

Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.

You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.

Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.

You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”

This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.

You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.

“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.

He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.

He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.

You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.

You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.

You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.

Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.

"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.

The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.

Tag list: @stunkbiggu @jasminedragoon @dij-ology @sophiaj650 @lem-hhn yangmaeum @chanchirajan1998 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @bfences @regianenascimentooficial @simplyxwwww @notquitehero @1mawh0re @takeabreathdeath @henrysimp @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @serendipitous-fernweh @queenkassradite @misscaller06 @two-pounds-of-crab-legs @skeletonea @paninibit @sunflowersunlight7-blog @ghostslillady @imhungry675 @eddiewym69 @mortuaconjuga @jolynesposts @jacobelordiswifeee @aphroditeslips @sanidrift @ambergluskin @noname2246

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[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[missjellyhead]

HEADCANON | slashers favorite sex positions | fem!reader

Inclui Brahms Heelshire, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Otis Diftwood, RZ!Michael Myers

note: uh... hey? I got excited about this one. And thank you for 100 followers! :D

Warnings: nsfw.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Cowgirl.

Brahms is spoiled.

He doesn't want to take the slightest effort.

He just likes to lie back against the pillows, hold your thighs tightly, and let you move as you please. As long as he comes, everything is fine.

Brahms whimpers so needily, eyes closed as you ride on his cock.

When he's close to coming, he thrusts his hips up desperately, seeking his own pleasure.

If you allow him to take control, he'll moan loudly and fuck you until you can barely support your own weight and fall onto his furry chest.

But if you stop him, just wanting to tease him a little, he will whimper and stubbornly try to move.

You can punish him for being such a naughty and greedy boy, and Brahms will be begging for your touch like a puppy.

BILLY LENZ

Accepts anything. He just wants to fuck you senseless. But when you turn 69--

Hearing and feeling you gagging against his cock as he just devours your pussy is perfect.

And Billy is definitely addicted to his pussy.

Could eat you for hours and hours like a starving man. He never gets tired.

Billy also loves doggy style.

He'll throw you onto the bed as soon as he gets a chance to come out of the attic, and he'll fuck you hard and sloppy from behind until he comes.

In fact, after he cums, he keeps moving.

He super stimulates you without even realizing it, focusing only on himself.

He's noisy. Very noisy.

And it doesn't care if the sorority house is full or empty. As long as it's just the two of you in the room, he's in for some fun.

But it usually comes out of the attic during the night.

Good luck explaining to the other sorority girls what those late-night sounds were.

Speaking of the attic, he loves to fuck you in there too.

It's dusty and musty smelling, but Billy feels safe there.

He has you up against the wall, chest pressed against your back, and makes you practically scream with pleasure.

Anyway, he really loves many positions and it's hard to choose a favorite.

BUBBA SAWYER

I believe Bubba is a little shy about sex, although he is quite excited.

But he's afraid he can't satisfy you, and he's afraid you won't find his body attractive.

So it takes him a while to feel comfortable having sex with you.

And when that happens, you have to guide Bubba and teach him what to do.

If you are as inexperienced as he is, you will learn together and it will be nice and fun.

And when he has enough knowledge, has experienced enough positions, one of his favorites will be cowgirl.

He likes you to have control over him and do what gives you the most pleasure. It's also amazing that he has such a beautiful girl jumping on his dick. Bubba almost can't believe it's real.

And he loves to see your breasts bouncing. If he gets the chance, he'll have your nipples trapped between his lips as you ride his fat cock.

If he's not holding the sheets between his fingers, then he'll have his hands on your hips.

It will leave fingerprints because he squeezed you so hard.

It wasn't on purpose, honestly. He'll apologize later, fearing you'll get angry.

And if you tie his wrists to the headboard and sit on his face, he'll freak out.

Do it. He loves to please you.

Is kinda sloppy about eating pussy but so excited. Hope you don't mind the amount of saliva.

(And if you want to return the favor, pegging this man. He'll moan so needy~).

OTIS DRIFTWOOD

I honestly think Otis is a disgusting man. With a lot of fetishes, and a lot of boner, and a lot of time left to fuck you to exhaustion.

And speaking of fetishes, Otis has foot fetishes. Your foot, specifically.

It's not like he's going to masturbate looking at your feet or anything.

He just likes to pay special attention to his feet as he pushes against her sensitive, wet pussy.

And honestly, he doesn't even care if it makes you uncomfortable or not. Just take his dick and let him play with your body as he wants and as much as he wants.

So he likes to have you lying in bed, legs up, shins over his shoulders. That way he can just pull his legs forward and play with his feet. It will kiss and lick them while looking into your eyes.

Also likes to have you on all fours.

Shake your ass and Otis will be inside you in a few milliseconds.

Will spank your ass and pull your hair, pushing your face into the sheets.

(If you let him fuck your ass, he'll get you in every possible position. He gets wild).

And it will degrade you badly, all the time. (Does this outside of sex too).

RZ!MICHAEL MYERS

He'll make you lie face down on the bed, then he'll lean over you, put an arm around your neck and fuck you deep.

He's not really choking you unless you ask him to.

He likes how he looks bigger on top of you. Even if you are close to his height, he definitely has more muscles than you.

Michael isn't very vocal, but he lets out little grunts and his breathing becomes ragged as he rolls his hips against your ass.

He also likes to have you leaning over any surface that may be: kitchen table, countertops, coffee table in the living room.

That's because he likes to watch your cock disappear into your pussy, feel your legs shake as you try to get used to the size.

If he is particularly lazy that day, spoon position. It's still deep and strong, but slow.

The important thing is that he makes you come deliciously and he comes deep inside you.

(Loves to fuck you against the wall. Put one leg on his shoulder and let him stick his tongue in you. He'll hold your hips, not letting you dominate the situation. Michael likes to be in power, especially when he's making you feel squirm).

Sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language