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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N.

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day. You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror. He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock. You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry.

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie. You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted. You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone. Your phone is still on silent from the theater.

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you.

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie."

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight. "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively.

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . . Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion.

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply.

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue.

“How was your date?"

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.”

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze.

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.”

You scoff.

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.” His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special. “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”

You look out your window, which faces the woods. "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains. You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you.

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?”

Are you that predictable?

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly. His breathing becomes audible. “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . . . .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on.

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.”

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You lie there clenching your thighs together.

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together. “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on.

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast.

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock.

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.”

He’s right about that. You close your eyes as you touch yourself. You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.”

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.”

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core.

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?”

You turn up the intensity of your vibe.

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl. Swallowed it right up.”

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops.

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close. “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting. You need a shower.

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears. There’s nothing you can do. You squat down, hugging your knees. There’s no good option.

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby." The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment. Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked. He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see.

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you. One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife. He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.”

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower. He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak.

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle. “Coulda had it how ya wanted.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen.

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.” He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down. “You’ve put me behind you after all.” He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick. He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds.

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh. You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it.

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now. He pants as he thrusts into you harder. “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel.

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly. “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.”

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.” He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you. You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own. Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load. He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core. You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants.

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on. He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.”

“The cops have it.”

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe. You look behind him toward the toilet.

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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Please engage (reblog/comment) if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️#dark fic

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impeakcharacterdesign · 10 months

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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.

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pedzs · 8 months

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Two panel Brahms and Greta F•A•N•A•R•T 🥹

I don’t have anything to add, please enjoy✨

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24kvlaks · 2 months

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Slashers and sex

How big do you guys think slashers dicks are? And how hard would it be to take it.

Thomas Hewitt.

Thomas being a big boy, he has really good girth, and he’s more of a grower than a shower, when he soft it isn’t the biggest thing on average 5.8 inches, when hard it’s a decent 7.2 inches, and his girth is between 4-5 inches wide.

It’s pretty hard to take, it starts off rough and painful but the longer you fuck the more you ease towards it. In the end it’s very pleasurable and he’s very careful with you! <3

Thomas is very found of bondage. He loves seeing you tied up, especially with a strawberry in your mouth.

—

RZ Michael Myers.

Michael from rob zombie is a really big boy. He’s 6’9 and more muscle than he is anything else. He’s a grower and a shower. He starts at 6 inches soft snd 9.1 inches hard. Likely 6 or 5inches wide.

It hurts so much when you two have sex, Michael isn’t careful, he’s rough. And if he didn’t cum the first 5 minutes he won’t stop.

You have a bruised cervix. The first time you two had sex you bled! You quickly warmed up to his girth but you could never come to terms with the length of his.

Michael loves bruising! He doesn’t even know that he does but he goes nuts internally when he marks you.

Very very hard to take. Bruises you, and a couple of hospital visits.

—

Jason Voorhees

Jasons a big guy, more on the lean yet chubby side. Very bulky. And you can bet your ass that his dick is exactly the same.

Jason has a girth of 4.8!

He’s very thick. He has a length of 6.9.

The length is pretty average yet he stretches you so far every time.

Jason is very very careful, if you say you’re done, you’re done. Even when you tell him to go rough, he’ll go harder and faster but he’ll never go his full strength.

You seem to forget the fact that he can actually hurt you if he goes to his full potential during sex. Breaking your spine or actually doing some damage to your cervix. Nevertheless potentially killing you.

Jason’s a very very careful boy. Psst he also has a very secretive mommy kink.

He’s a grower.

Hard to take because he doesn’t really know what he’s doing and sometimes it hurts. Yet if you’re patience enough he’ll catch on and it’ll feel amazing.

—

Gabriel may

Now having sex with Gabriel is very difficult. Even though he doesn’t have a penis I didn’t want to not include our special boy :(

Gabriel gets very mad and insecure during sex because he doesn’t have his own body.

He always fantasizes about having his own body his own parts. Instead of having to use dildos or toys.

Though you make up for it, Gabriel hates receiving because he doesn’t like the thought of you pleasuring his sister even if he can feel it too.

Sometimes he’ll allow it but mainly seeing you enjoy yourself is enough to get him off.

I’d like to say if Gabriel had a penis it’d be 4.0 inches soft and 5.8 inches hard. With 4.0 inches in girth.

Gabriel has a phone sex link. Since he can control radios, lights and phones, he loves watching you pleasure yourself over the phone. Drives him crazy.

And he never goes easy on you.

Not hard to take because you’re not really taking anything. But mentally it’s a hassle, he’s always edging you.

—

Bo Sinclair

Bo fucking Sinclair. Bo is big on sex, crying sex, arguing sex, mad sex, sad sex, romantic sex. Anything you want you can have it.

Though Bo doesn’t like to experiment he doesn’t like stepping out of what he doesn’t know.

He likes the normal thing smoke regular missionary and doggystyle. Average shit.

And don’t think because it’s average he can’t fuck good because you would be wrong.

Soft 5.7. hard 8.2, Girth 4.5. Boy takes pride of his dick. If you’re arguing and say anything that involves you calling his dick small he will whip it out and fuck you.

Sometimes he’d just stare at you and whip it out letting out a scoff before putting it back in his pants.

If you say it in public he’ll laugh in your face before giving you a painful fucking after.

He’ll never ever go easy on you in bed. Sometimes you have to fuck in his gas station because his brothers were tired of hearing you yell.

Bo has a huge smacking kink. Loves seeing your skin turn a tad red when he smacks you. The shock on your face yet you’re being too fucked out to be mad.

Very hard to take. End of story.

—

Vincent Sinclair

He takes after his brother. A big dick boy.

Though Vincent’s shy about it, sometimes he wonders if it’s big enough. Which it is. It’s perfectly fine.

5.2 soft 7.4 hard.

Vincent was a virgin though he enjoyed the thought of sex. He thought of it as an art.

During sex with Vincent he’d be very careful. Scared he’d mess up or he’d read about it to prepare and rock your world.

Having sex with him was pleasurable. Soft and romantic there was never a time where sex between you two wasn’t romantic.

He was always so soft and gentle.

He thought you’d find it weird that he had nude mini sculptures of you, or paintings of you having sex. Though you oddly found it attractive.

You guessed it! Vincent has a wax kink. He loves poring it off your body. Though he thinks real wax is too dangerous so he uses lotion wax.

Rubbing it into your skin whilst pounding into you. He admired you, his favorite muse. And his favorite wax to create art. By fucking you.

Mediocre when it comes down to taking him, you don’t have sex often because he’s always busy. So usually when you do you have to get used to his size again!

And even when you do he still has length that bruises you.

—

Lester Sinclair

Straight to the check. He’s 4.0 soft 5.4 hard. Don’t think just because he isn’t as big as the others he doesn’t know what to do.

He’s a little sex geek. He has millions of magazines.

And he’s a little switch, he enjoys being a bottom most of the time. He’ll brush his teeth to eat you out.

Will literally scrub his teeth and drink mouthwash just to eat pussy and then go back to his day.

He loves the way you taste. He always compliments you by saying you taste better than his chocolate.

Saying you are his favorite chocolate. He’d call you white chocolate, cream chocolate, dark chocolate, cream chocolate or just his sugar brown baby.

He’s crazy with nicknames! He doesn’t mind experimenting, whatever involves him having sex with his girl, or boy. He doesn’t really care.

He’ll dress up for you, go out of his way to pay for expensive dates that he doesn’t have the financials for.

He’s very steady during sex, he doesn’t really do anything unless you tell him too.

Your wish is his command.

He loves sitophilia! If you don’t know what that is he likes food play. He’ll dump chocolate on you, he’ll use peanut butter.

Anything!

He’ll put candy in between your ass and go nuts! Sometimes he’d just eat the candy and leave.

You didn’t mind, as long as he was happy. And he always was. A mouth full of candy and a face full of ass who could complain?

Never hard to take Lester. You fuck so much you’ve gotten used to his penis. Though that doesn’t make sex less pleasurable for either of you.

Especially with his erratic ideas.

—

Hannibal lector

Hannibal is an average guy. 6.2 soft, hard 7.0

Mind you, he knows how to use every inch of his body. And he loves fingering. He will use his hands and finish you off.

Especially if he’s busy, he’ll fuck you to smithereens with one hand whilst he’s writing with the other.

Hannibal knows what’s best during sex. If he decides to go Fast one night and slow the other it must be what’s best.

Hannibal loves dress up. Any cute outfit on you would drive him mad. It’s not just dress up like cosplay, he loves any kind of dress up. You wear a silky dress he’d tear it in half.

And fuck you that night.

Sometimes he’d leave it on and just hump you through it. Just because he can, Hannibal knows best.

It’s never really hard to take Hannibal, he always makes sure it’s easy and pleasurable.

—

Hi guys! That’s all :) lmk if I should do part two! If you have any slashers I missed just comment them <3

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milkteahood · 6 months

Text

texas heat

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: basically a smut with a plot

Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?

You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.

***

“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.

“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.

“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.

At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.

You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.

“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.

“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”

A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.

Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

***

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.

Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.

***

“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.

“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.

“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.

“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”

Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”

The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.

***

The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.

“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.

***

“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.

As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.

“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.

“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.

And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.

***

The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.

You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.

What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.

Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.

You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?

Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.

In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.

“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.

“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.

You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.

This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.

You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.

Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.

“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.

“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.

Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.

You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.

Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.

“Tommy?”

He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“I really like you, Thomas”

His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.

He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.

After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.

“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”

He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.

“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.

He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.

“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.

Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.

“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.

He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.

You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.

As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.

Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.

“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.

Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.

You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.

He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x reader smut #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt image #thomas hewitt x you #slasher x y/n #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher x you #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #thomas hewitt fanfic

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imaslutforwritingshit · 1 year

Text

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o- charismatic killer trope.

1. SUNRISE SCARE

Ethan: Wake up, baby. I can see you sleeping in.

Y/n: i am awake. im already brushing my teeth.

Ethan: no, you aren’t. I’m watching you right now.

Y/n: how

Ethan: The window. You’re so vulnerable when you’re asleep.

Y/n: I can’t see you.

Ethan: But that’s the point, love.

Ethan: please get out of that nightgown, before I take it off for you.

Y/n: why? what is it doing to you?

Ethan: I’ll show you later.

Y/n: oh ?

Ethan: good morning by the way ❤️

2. TEASER

Y/n: hey. you get the answer for #12?

Ethan: Oh, dear. My girlfriend is cheating on the math homework.

Y/n: im not cheating, dummy. im asking an educational question.

Ethan: If you can cheat so easily on calculus, how do I know you’re loyal to me?

Y/n: because we both know what would happen to me if I would cheat on you, ethan.

Ethan: and what’s that?

Y/n: …

Ethan: you think I would kill you?

Y/n: don’t lie to me. we both know you can’t control yourself around me. i know you touched yourself while stalking me when we weren’t dating.

Ethan: such disgusting thoughts. I might need to fuck your brains out to get rid of them, don’t you think?

Y/n: in what way would you take my brains out? With a knife? Or with your cock?

Ethan: we’re in class

Y/n: are you hard right now?

Y/n: hello? it’s just a question.

Y/n: if you don’t answer me, i’ll ask Chad to fuck me instead. i’ll enjoy letting him bend me over.

Ethan: I can’t wait to see his blood on my hands. what day should I do it? today? kill him tonight?

Y/n: it was a joke. i just didn’t realize i turned you on that fast, ethan.

Ethan: don’t act dumb with me. you know what you’re fucking doing.

Y/n: no, i don’t. you should really answer my question.

Ethan: don’t act like you aren’t aware that I’m throbbing in my jeans

Ethan: stop acting like this

Ethan: i’m gonna fucking punish you so hard tonight

Y/n: lol because of giving you an erection?

Ethan: i can’t wait to see how much you’ll laughing when I’ll have a knife to your throat.

Ethan: making you scream with my dick.

Ethan: you want that?

Y/n: yes

Ethan: fucking whore.

Y/n: you love it.

Ethan: I do.

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nackrosor · 8 months

Text

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..."

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you.

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house."

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder…

He couldn't wait any longer.

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again.

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria.

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!”

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?"

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look.

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…"

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command.

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction.

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…"

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more.

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms."

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you.

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good...

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short.

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more.

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him.

At last, you had become one.

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you.

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he!

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes.

He will be such a good boy for you.

MORE STORIES 🥀

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sl4sh3rsub · 1 year

Text

rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)

rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum

a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting

if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection

he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft

so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf

mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace

he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<

if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie

if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste

he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back

michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you

he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support

you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you

he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length

mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him

he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily

he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them

mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly

michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard

when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls

oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night

in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it

mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you

his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation

he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(

michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started

mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3

initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction

his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability

will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over

for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately

he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily

if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out

michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3

he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust

he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy

while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)

michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length

when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???

michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)

he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down

mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time

he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold

he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen

when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him

his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds

he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you

he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin

mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death

the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(

on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock

myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips

if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<

michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure

michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out

he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while

if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils

he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks

if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions

he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3

occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace

his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<

his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs

michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets

he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace

after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours

if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well

whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could

he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)

if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you

the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin

cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work

if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over

of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole

whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him

he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)

his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants

michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back

he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress

once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat

his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets

leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy

his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs

he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)

teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth

once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears

sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you

his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him

due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery

loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside

sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access

the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you

he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin

he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one

when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction

he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'

mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)

as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman

_ _ _ _ _

sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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slasher-fxcker · 11 days

Text

Slashers S/O falling asleep on them

A/N: Just a quick little drabble of me fantasizing about our favourite slashers. I am still working through requests so please don't think I am ignoring you guys! They are coming :)

Billy Loomis

· Billy isn’t sure how to react at first, if you are around people sorry but he’s not going to tarnish his reputation with these soft moments. But if you're alone he will be conflicted.

· He’s not used to soft moments and he likes to be in control of any affection. He tries to keep it light like hand holding or sexual to try and keep you at a distance. So, this makes him sort of short circuit.

· Once he decides to allow it, it takes him a while but he does eventually relax into the embrace. He hates to admit that it is comforting, you make him feel secure and that worries him.

· He probably won’t sit for too long and may move eventually, he won’t disturb you but will leave you on the couch to rest.

Bo Sinclair

· Bo will never ever admit to this but he loves your soft affection, even if it’s only when you're asleep that he embraces it. He will pull you closer to him and wrap his arm around you. It’s the time he will let his guard down and let himself truly feel.

· If his brothers walk in he’s going to act like it’s a hassle, but even they know he doesn’t really mean it. Will also probably whine at you about it later.

· Bo loves you but he won’t admit that yet, even if you question it sometimes just know that you don’t get to see the way he looks at you like you're his world, or how your cute sleepy expression grips his heart. It’s these times where he thinks maybe he should be nicer to you, it’s now when he realises that he needs you even if he’s not ready to admit that.

Jason Voorhees

· Jason will not move a muscle if you fall asleep on him, you may as well be leaning on a comfier version of a statue. He wouldn’t do anything to wake you up.

· Barely breathes in fear or disturbing you. This man adores you and if you need sleep you're going to get it.

· If there are any trespassers he is going to be even more brutal than usual, how dare they disturb this intimate moment with his loved one. He lays you down as gently as he can, lucky you're a heavy sleeper.

· Jason will make quick work of the trespassers so he can get back to you, sure you may wake up with some leftover blood on you but it’s all worth it in the end to be in Jason’s arms.

Jesse Cromeans

· Jesse gets a small smirk on his face when he realises you’ve fallen asleep in his lap while he’s completing some paperwork. He will hold you while he works, occasionally stroking your hair and placing his chin on your head.

· You seem so small buried into his chest, it reminds Jesse how delicate you are and how protective he is of you to keep you here with him.

· Jesse is a busy man so its highly likely that he will end up having some sort of work that pulls him away from this intimate moment. He will carry you with ease to your bed and cover you in blankets to keep you warm until he can return.

· Won’t leave without placing the gentlest of kisses to your forehead and watching you snuggle in.

Lester Sinclair

· Lester is a busy man, he loves your affections but try to catch him when it won’t interfere with his day or piss Bo off. He will put your affections first and that can often get him in trouble with his brother.

· This man is the cutest cuddle bug, he will hold you for as long as you want. Will wrap you up in his arms and put a movie on, he is definitely the most chill out of the slashers when it comes to this kind of affection.

· Expect him to occasionally cover your face in soft kisses, the small smile it puts on your face gives him the cheesiest grin. Part of him wants you to hurry up and wake up so he can give you more affection, but don’t worry he wouldn’t dream of waking you.

· Lester cherishes you and when you wake up still in his arms expect to give him all of your attention for a while.

Michael Myers

· Do you like sleeping on the floor? Because that’s where you will end up if you fall asleep on Michael when he’s not in a very good mood. He’s an asshole. He does love you, but you don’t get to be affectionate without his approval when he’s in this kind of mood.

· If you catch him on a good day he will simply let you rest against him, most likely sitting still and watching you sleep.

· He thinks you're naïve to trust him when you're in such a vulnerable state, how he could hurt you at any moment. He likes to pretend that he could but you both know he would never do anything to hurt you. Not now that he had let you in.

· If you wake up to his head resting against yours as you both find comfort in the slight affection he will jump up and storm off as soon as he notices you're awake. Don’t bring it up unless you want him to pout for a while or threateningly glare at you from across the room. He will pretend it never happened.

Stu Macher

· Stu had always been a night owl, and it didn’t help he spent a lot of his nights out with Billy.

· You would wait up for him a lot at his place, flicking through the channels of the tv and waiting for that familiar click of the front door. He would instantly come and join you, arms open and waiting. He always missed touching and holding you.

· Would probably ramble on and not realise you were sleeping until he notices you aren’t answering him anymore. The cheesy smile this boy gets when he realises you're asleep.

· He will probably just watch you for a while, moving the hair out of your face.

· Stu is the type of guy to draw on people’s faces while they sleep, but with you he will just gently trace your features or draw small love hearts with his finger, laughing quietly to himself as your nose crinkles at the feeling.

· He wouldn’t move you, he loves holding you in his arms, keeping you close to him. Will for sure tease you about it later though.

Thomas Hewitt

· Thomas just melts when he feels your head rest against him. He knows how tiring it can be working in the heat, so he will let you rest for as long as you need to.

· He will blush if anyone else sees the two of you, but he’s still not moving.

· Thomas could hold you like this forever, but he worries that the couch isn’t the comfiest place to spend the night so he will carry you upstairs to your room, this man just wants what is best for you. He tries his best to be as gentle as possible when he lays you down, not wanting to wake you.

· He stands up to leave but notices you clinging to his shirt, the crinkle in your brow showing you're clearly not happy with the loss of contact. He lets out a husky huff before climbing into bed next to you, he melts under your touch and the thought that even in your sleep you need his touch.

Vincent Sinclair

· He stills immediately when he feels the contact. Vincent loves you so much but he’s not sure he will ever get used to the physical affections.

· When he realises you’ve fallen asleep on him his heart swells. You better believe this boy will not move an inch, your comfort is his entire priority. He will be dead still until you wake up, would not dream of disturbing you.

· Will definitely watch you sleep, he feels like he needs to commit every single line of your face to memory. Not only will he want to sketch you later on but the fear of you leaving still weighs heavily on him and he needs to make sure he would remember every detail of you.

· It’s like you can feel him staring when you shuffle closer to him and mumble his name, he instantly melts. He pulls you closer, reassuring you that he’s still there. He’s not going anywhere, he will always be there.

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slasherstories123 · 4 months

Note

Hii this is the first time I make a request. Can you make slashers(your choices hehe) react to S/O making a plushie that look just like them? Thank you :)

Slashers reaction to their S/O making a plushie of them

Paring: Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Vincent Sinclair,Lester Sinclair, and Brahms Heelshire x reader

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @l0sercat

A/N: When you said dolls it made me think of crochet dolls, but if not then I’m sorry😭💗

Jason Voorhees

Very curious. He's curious about the process of you making the plushie once tibeas given to him.

Jason loves the plushie, even carrying it around like it’s his own child and will even sleep with it besides his teddy bear that was given by his mother.

He’ll hug you to no end as his way of saying thank you

If you were to make another plushie he’d want to watch you make it so he could make one of you, it was terribly made but it was his first time… and it’s the thought that counts

He’ll be forever grateful because it’s the fact that you wanted to make the plushie and haven’t had any sort of gift in years ever since his mother was killed, it’ll possibly even make him emotional just the thought of him receiving any gifts after being called a monster or freak.

Michael Myers

He’s giving you so many head tilts of confusion

All he can think about is why? Why are you making it, he knows you love him, but that far to make a plushie?

He’ll keep it of course but you won’t see him around with it, he probably has it put up on your dresser.

Will he stare? Yea. He’ll stare at you through the whole process of making it. Once it’s done he’ll definitely see something missing. Going in the kitchen to get the largest knife and give it to you.

You’d have to stifle a laugh and make a large knife that will fit the doll to fit his liking, handing it up to up for his own approval.

He’d take the doll and hold it by its head. Placing it on his shoulder.

He’d walk around the house with it on his shoulder, surprisingly, it doesn’t fall off.

Vincent Sinclair

Loves it.

Vincent keeps anything you give him, even if it’s a a half head flower you saw outside he’ll keep it even if it’s shriveled up into nothing

At first he’s curious since he never knows you could make things like he could. Once you show him how you do it, just know he’ll also make you one as well so you both can have plushies of each other

He’s rather good at it for the first time but often cuts his fingers so you’d have to stop him just to patch them up or to make sure he isn’t bleeding

He’ll often watch you make them since it’s satisfying in his opinion to watch. Just have music play in the background while you work he could stare for hours and not get bored at all.

Lester Sinclair

Lester literally laughs at the sight of it

It’s more of a surprise laugh since he didn’t expect you to make a doll that’s exactly like him, he loves it and will give you the tightest hug known to mankind

Even press kissed all over your face happily, mustache sloppy but they’re still kisses 🤷🏾‍♀️

He’ll even call the doll “Lester Jr” and will have it in his truck… or will carry it everywhere but will also have it in his truck since it reminds him of you

He’ll hug it to no end, even in his sleep, or he’ll have you hold onto it while he curls up besides you to sleep

Brahms Heelshire

It would be hard for you to even make it since he’ll sometimes take the tools away just so he can get your attention.

Once he settled down… hopefully. He’ll watch while having the porcelain doll of himself in his lap. Holding onto it until you finished with the doll you were currently making yourself.

Just like with the porcelain doll, he expects you to be careful even though it isn’t as fragile as the one he has

It’s a doll, and it was made by you. He wants it to be taken care of of since it resembles him.

As his way of a thank you, he’ll give you one perfectly made as well, and it has more details of your features that you don’t even pay attention to.

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUELS | Slasher masterlist

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist). You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up. It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car. He smells faintly of weed and sweat. You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand. You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure.

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried. It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare?

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you. Your heart pounds in your chest. You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body closer and your heart nearly stops as your inner thigh softly nudges his hand. But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it. Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches. He’s only somewhat hard, but obviously packing. He still doesn’t move. His chest is rising and falling with his breaths. You know he’s alive. Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more. You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately. It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear. You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you. Stabbing is penetrative after all. Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him? After all, he’s only a man. Why not, you think. This could be your best chance to find out. This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation. You’re turned on thinking about it. If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose. Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush. The tables have turned. You’re on top of him now. You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer. You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is. Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you. Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself.

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up. But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought. You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react. You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing. You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap. Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves. He seems to look at you. Then a soft, low sigh. You lower your crotch again and he’s harder. You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder. A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.

You’re going to have to have him. This is your chance and you can’t resist it. Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again. You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient. You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband. His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock. You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs. Your core aches to be filled.

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch. He moans but doesn’t move. Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt. His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full. It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time. You wonder if you could just fuck from now on. If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness. You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly. You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms, unable to free them from the headrest. He’s groggy and weak. You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming. You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race. “Knew it.” Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard. Always wanted this cock. Knew it. He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger. Nasty Girl.

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips. Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him. You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls. You decide to jerk him off as a power move. You kneel into the open door frame of the car. You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist. “All ya had to do was ask,” he says. All you had to do was ask. You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street. Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade. He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly. His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants. Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe. You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #slasher smut #slasher fanfiction #cw noncon #tw noncon #cw somnophilia #night walks #ghostface #slasher fucker #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #dark fic #ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️

13K notes · View notes

sunkendreams · 9 months

Text

kickstart my heart.

REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid

“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!

A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.

You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.

Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.

The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.

Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.

A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.

“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”

Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.

With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.

Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”

“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.

“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.

A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.

“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.

To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.

His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.

“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.

“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.

Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.

You belonged to him.

With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.

“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.

“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”

Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.

Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.

“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.

“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.

“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.

Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.

By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.

Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.

“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.

“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.

“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.

Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.

Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.

Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.

“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.

You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.

He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.

As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.

Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.

“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.

When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.

“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”

Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.

That’s what this was about?

“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.

For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.

Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.

You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.

Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.

“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.

“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.

A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.

“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.

This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”

“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.

Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.

That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.

“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.

Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.

A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.

Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.

“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”

“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.

“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.

With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.

He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.

Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.

You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.

“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”

It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.

He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.

Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.

There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.

Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.

“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.

You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.

Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.

The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.

As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.

With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.

Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.

Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.

He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.

“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”

“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.

He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.

“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.

“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.

Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.

You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.

A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.

There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.

He moaned.

Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.

“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.

“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”

Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.

Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.

With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”

The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.

Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.

“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.

Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.

An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.

“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.

You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.

“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.

“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.

It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”

Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.

Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.

He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.

You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.

It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.

“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.

“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.

You would have to thank Marko later.

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