Slasher X Reader - Tumblr Posts

I love your blog! and I got a request if that's alright.

Where Preston tells reader that Jesse died in the accident (cuz he's in love with her and wants to have her for himself) and reader gets really depressed and can't stop crying and Preston tells Jesse that reader left. And when Jesse decides to go home again after months, he's suprised to see reader and reader is suprised to see Jesse.

Angst with a happy ending, my favourite!

Back in his arms (Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x Reader):

As soon as the words left Preston's mouth, your world crashed down around you. He hadn't even passed the threshold of the home you share, shared, with Jesse. He stood on your doorstep, informing you of the unfortunate events of Jesse's last trip. From the few details he gave you, to spare you the morbid parts, everything had gone wrong, Jesse was critically injured and didn't survive the operation once the Organisation got to him.

You didn't know Preston very well, you had met him many times because he worked closely with Jesse, but it wasn't like you were close. You knew that Jesse didn't trust him completely but he must have trusted him enough to keep him working so close. And not for a moment did you think that Preston could lie to you about such a thing.

After hearing the news, you just broke down. A sob tearing through your throat as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't even question it, didn't have the mind to question it, when Preston wrapped his arms around you and pulled you towards him. You couldn't do anything but sob into his chest.

The man had remained with you until it got dark, comforting you, attempting to take care of you. However, once it got dark you started to find his presence suffocating and insisted that you just need to be alone for a while. Preston had been...hesitant, telling you that you 'shouldn't be alone right now' but you insisted and he left, assuring you he would come by to check on you. After all, that's what Jesse would have wanted, right?

-

Searing pain was followed by darkness, then a bright light. Jesse squinted, his eyes hurting from the intense white light, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. Soon he could focus in on the voices, talking in medical terms. He relaxed slightly, figuring he had been picked up and was being treated by the organisation.

A few days passed since he first woke up from his surgeries and the medical team deemed that he was healing well and was beginning the long journey to recovery.

Once he was out of the haze the medication had him under, Preston came to visit him. As soon as Preston stepped into the room, Jesse grabbed his phone, beginning to type something in.

'Send for Y/n. Let them know what happened and that I'm alright' the robotic voice ordered.

Preston sighed, shifting slightly. "I'm sorry, sir. We sent for Y/n as soon as we had you in surgery...they left" he informed his boss.

'Left?'

"Apparently they weren't confident about your condition or your chances of recovery, the inevitable scarring was mentioned. We went back to bring them here but when we arrived at the house, they and their belonging were gone" Preston explained, knowing that his Boss wouldn't react well to the news.

'Out' the text to speech demanded.

With a nod, Preston left the room, flinching at the sound of something smashing inside the room.

-

Months passed but Jesse had recovered enough from his injuries to return home, though he wasn't sure if he could call it that anymore. The large house he lived in had just been a place to rest between trips, it was you that made it a home.

Still, he wanted to go home and collect somethings at least before leaving for...well, he wasn't sure yet.

Jesse knew he had been a nightmare of a boss, even more so than usual, since finding out about you leaving. He was bitter that you would leave him when things went bad, but after seeing the extent of his injuries, the scars that would never heal, he was almost thankful that you had left. At least you wouldn't have to see him like this.

Jesse walked up to the front door, unlocking it before stepping inside. Everything was how he remembered it, of course, except there was no you running into his arms to greet him.

-

You were taking part in your usual daily routine, wallowing in your self pity, mourning the loss of the man you love. It was the sound of the front door opening that brought you out of your daze, a sound you hadn't heard since Preston stopped coming around. He said that the Organisation was busy, planning what to do next, but he would visit when he could. Though, you truly didn't care if he came back again.

Maybe it was just Preston, maybe you had forgotten to lock the door, you had been out of sorts for the last few months. Quietly, you moved through the house, hearing another noise coming from the kitchen.

Peaking your head around the door way, you saw a familiarly large figure with his back to you. For a moment you thought you were hallucinating, the tall bald figure in a familiar black suit.

It couldn't be...you knew that, but still a small part of you hoped that what you were seeing was real.

"...Jesse?" your voice was quiet and unsure, hands trembling as you stepped out into the kitchen.

The figure turned around suddenly, hand touching the left side of his shoulder holster where you knew he kept his beloved knives. The two of you froze as you locked eyes.

It was Jesse...that much you could make out, but he looked very different. Thankfully, you had pried more information out of Preston about the accident that caused Jesse's death. You didn't know why but you just had to know. He had told you that somebody had tricked him, put something in his mask that caused it to stick to his face and act like acid. He said that the injuries were so severe that Jesse didn't survive, but now he was standing right in front of you. Apparently, only part of what Preston had told you was true, according to the scarring on his face.

He was honest about the injuries being severe as well. The acid like glue had eaten away at Jesse's face, pretty much leaving him unrecognisable, but you recognised him, you always would.

Jesse was stunned, not only to see you still in your shared home but also to see that state you were in. Preston had made it sound like you had coldly left when you thought Jesse might die or return disfigured, but here you were, seemingly devastated over something.

You were wearing a pair of his sweatpants and one of his dress shirts, both of which were comically large on you, as if you just needed something to feel closer to him. It looked like you hadn't been taking care of yourself, looking gaunt. Though, you still looked perfectly angelic compared to him.

"Jesse" you sounded more sure in your assumption despite the sob that left you.

Jesse wasn't sure how to react for the first time in his life, because he didn't know how you would react to seeing him and his new appearance. He definitely hadn't reacted well to it when he first got the chance to look in the mirror.

It was like some unseen force moved your feet, your mind barely able to keep up as you sprinted across the kitchen, throwing yourself in Jesse's chest, wrapping your arms around your waist. The unexpected impact caused Jesse to step back and regain his balance, but his arms natural came to wrap around your shaking frame.

"I thought you were dead" you sobbed, voice muffled by the material of his shirt. Tenderly, Jesse ran a hand over your hair, holding you tighter to his body, refusing to let you go again.

After allowing your brain the chance to catch up and understand what was going on, you began to calm down. Still, you didn't let go of him as you pulled away from his embrace.

"Oh Jesse..." you frowned, eyes full of sorrow and love, as you took in his appearance, "what happened to you?" Jesse pulled away from you, reluctantly tearing his hands away to sign that his mask had been tampered with. "So, that part of Preston's story was true" you muttered, hands coming up to rest gently on either side of his neck.

Jesse couldn't look away from you, you were complete opposite of what Preston's story had made you out to be. It seemed that you had both be lied too...

You gasped slightly but didn't complain as Jesse hoisted you off of the ground and sat you down on the kitchen counter. You sniffled softly as Jesse wiped the tears away from your cheeks.

It wasn't until you touched a hand to his own cheek that he looked away, as if suddenly ashamed of his new appearance. "Jesse, please don't look away from me. I just wanted you to be alive and you are" you confessed, gently turning his face back towards you. "Does it hurt?" you asked, he only shrugged, as if telling you 'a little'.

"I'm so sorry Jesse" you couldn't imagine the pain he was in and you just wished you could have been by his side as he recovered. "I love you so much" you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you buried your face into his shoulder.

He just held you for a while longer, both cherishing the feeling of having you back in his arms as well as putting the pieces together to figure out why Preston had told these lies. Of course, the answer wasn't a difficult one to figure out.

Once you had calmed down again, Jesse pulled away from you so that he was able to sign easier. 'Preston told me that you had left after you heard about the accident' in informed you, making your eyes widened.

"What? No. He told me that you were dead, I've barely even left the house in months...he's been visiting me to check on me..." you informed Jesse. "What would he do that?" you asked.

'He's envious. He thought I couldn't be Chromeskull anymore, he wanted to take my place. Either he's hoping I would die from my injuries or he would kill me. It seems that he wanted to take my place in more ways than one' Jesse explained, you watching his hands intently as you tried to understand the man's motives.

"That...kinda explains a lot...he's been kinda weird" you recalled, now realising he had been trying to worm himself into your life since the very beginning. "God, he's such a creep!" you cringed, disgusted by the man.

A look of determination took over your face as you cupped Jesse's in your hands, looking him in the eyes. "Preston could never take your place, not as Chromeskull, and not in my life. He just wishes he were you but he never can be. The fact that he thought I would ever be with him just proves how deluded he is" you ranted, disgust at Preston but adoration for Jesse both clear in your words.

You couldn't help but smile when you noticed Jesse's scarred mouth tugging into one of his own. Even now, you thought his smile was beautiful, that he was handsome. Preston had truly underestimated how devoted you are to Jesse, devoted in a way that nobody would ever be to him.

'I should have known better, that you wouldn't have left. I love you' his signs made you smile even brighter.

"I love you too, more than anything, and I always will" you promised, leaning up to press a tender kiss to his sensitive lips. "What will you do with Preston?" you asked quietly, knowing that Jesse would never let him live after this.

'I already have some ideas. You'll message him, tell him you're having a hard day and need somebody to talk too. I'll deal with him from there' Jesse told you, a sinister look flashing in his eyes before softening again, 'but that's for another day. We've missed each other for months...'

"You're right" you smiled softly, resting your forehead against his. "I just want to think about you right now...I can't believe I have you back" you sighed, feeling Jesse's arms wrap around your waist, holding you close again.

Jesse didn't have to say anything for you to know that he felt the same way. For months he had pictured you by his side, only making him more bitter during that time, but now you were here. Back in his arms, were you were made to be.

❛ damn, boy ! slow down ! ❜

PUSSYDRUNK THOMAS HEWITT DRABBLE black chubby reader , breeding , overstimulation , size kink , stamina kink , thomas ain't stoppin' for absolutely anybody

imagine crying to thomas that he’s so close to splitting you in half and for him to take it easy because he’s such an enormous stretch for your pink, sloppy cunt to take. he wants to do as you say, but your mewls are so pretty, you feel too good, and he simply wants nothing more than to have one final thrust within you until you've milked his balls completely tired of unloading his cream.

he has you perched on your hands and knees atop his bedsheets, merciless backshots that consisted of your ass bouncing back against his stomach and recoiling in beautiful chocolate ripples each time your pussy swallowed him whole. those large palms had a vice grip on your hips whose lush flesh melted into the curves of his knuckles and bulged through the gaps atween each finger, dominating all of your lower movements. the warmth dripping from his growl ignited a flame upon your sweat-glittered spine, one of his hands then shifting to grope the pudge of your tummy so lovingly firm when he proceeded to quicken the pace. no matter what position you two were bedded in, he couldn't get enough of watching your fupa dance every single moment his fat, mushroomed tip greedily kissed your cervix. out of everything, that sight hustled him to his limit the most.

“mm, fuck!” your lips rolled inside both sets of teeth, gripping the comforter so damn tightly so you didn’t slip off of the mattress with how feverishly he was pounding into you, your lips separating to pant like a bitch in heat. “fuck, fuck, fuck! t-tommy.. baby, please.. wait.. too much!” it wasn’t the first time either of you had cum; he was going onto his sixth round, and you? you lost count of how many times your abused pussy had forcefully pushed his cock out of you in order to release a slutty stream of juice that splattered all over him and wet up his happy trail. clearly, it didn't slow him down one bit, because he’d stuff his dick right back in when you were done being a quivering, sputtering mess.

get ready for a long, long night, mrs. hewitt.

©️ VAMPIREMILLK . do not plagiarize, distribute to other sites or translate any of my work without my permission .

REQUESTS

my requests are open anon and non anon

i will write nsfw content for 18+

i’ll write for ANY SLASHER

but i’ll also wrote for non slashers just ask i’ll do them all 🙃

i also do character mood boards x zodiacs and stuff

me: *a whole 21 yo writing gross ass slasher fics*

my mom: wyd in there?

me: *giggles like a toddler* lol nothiiin

Hi!! Do you have something for thigh riding for the slashers?! If not could you do Jason, Michael, Bubba, Brahms and whoever else you want! :) thank you!!

first time doing thigh riding e v e r and like okay s o i apologize if u h8

THIGH RIDING FOR THE STABBY MEN

NSFW

Jason

I always feel like Jasons asexual but I GOT U

He grabbed you by the hips with his large hands and pulled you into his lap. You gasped at the pressure he was putting into your waist with his firm grip. You looked down at the masked man sitting in the wooden chair in front of you and placed your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. You wanted this more than he did, but he was always willing to negotiate for you. He placed one unsteady hand at your heat, you were wearing lace panties and a short summer dress. You could feel the cold temperature of his skin through the very thin fabric of your panties as he tried to carefully rub circles into your clit through them. You bucked your hips into his grip smoothly and placed one of your smaller hands onto his cock through his thick pants. Flustered, he removed his hand from you and gripped at your hips, digging into them. You moaned, and placed yourself on his thick thigh feeling the rough fabric against your warm cunt. Your moans earned you a low grunt from the tall man beneath your grip. You ground your hips back and forth, feeling his cock throb through his pants, in your hand. “Mm, Jason baby. You’re so big.” You moan as you slowly ride his lap as he digs his hands deeper into your hips, surely leaving bruises you’d admire later on. Moans escaping your lips as you pushed your cunt against him faster with every grunt your tall boy gave you. You could feel it in your stomach as your head snapped back and your legs twitched and you screamed his name as you reached your high, riding it out against him. Collapsing against his heavy, heaving chest he released the grasp on your waist and held your face in his hands pressing his mask to your cheek.

Bubba

This sweet, tall, big boy would do anything to make you happy. You were pouty and frustrated all day and he kept trying to come up with ways to cheer you up. Little did he know you were just sexually frustrated. But, being stubborn you wouldn’t relay that information to him. He laid on the bed next to you flustered, and a little irritated. Bubba pulled you into his body, making you roll over. He peered into your eyes with his large pleading ones, melting your entire existence. You sighed and went to kiss his cheek, but instead he attached his lips to yours, in his last attempt to cheer you up. You sighed and smiled into his plump lips. He took that as a sign to try and please you in the quickest way possible. He pulled you on top of him placing your legs on either side of one of his own thick legs. He held you firmly at the wrist placing his other hand on your cheek. You looked down at the man beneath you, kissing him roughly, and getting heated with every deep breath he took. You were grinding your body against his feeling yourself inching closer to the edge as his large hands tangled themselves in your hair. He pulled hard at the nape of your neck causing you to let out a loud moan and you felt a little burn in the pit of your stomach as your head snapped forward and your clit throbbed against the fabric of your jeans and you came undone with his hands grasping at your breasts. You smiled and kissed him, laying flat against his chest.

Michael

This would only be used as a form of foreplay for Michael. What he wants, he gets. Michael wasn’t around much lately. Busy, you supposed. You turned the hot water off in the shower and stepped out into the steam filled bathroom, the cold tile pressed against the souls of your feet gave you chills. You reached through the fog and snatched your towel from the sink and ruffled it through your hair before wrapping it around your wet body. You pulled the bathroom door open to reveal your bedroom and the masked man sitting on your bed,hands on his legs. Waiting. You leaned against the door frame and cocked your head to the side. He mimicked you. You knew why he was here, he’s always here for the same thing in the fall. Stress relief. You bit your lip and started toward him slowly. He patted one of his thighs lightly. Your eyes met with his, almost as if asking for permission. You knew how he liked to be in control at all times. He moved his hand, silently giving you his answer. You gripped his shoulder with one hand to steady yourself as you straddled his thigh. He gripped your wrist on his shoulder, firmly and bounced his leg a few times, “Fuck, Michael.” You groaned, feeling your bare skin against the rough fabric of his jumpsuit. You jerked forward, and his hands went for your towel, ripping it away from your body leaving you exposed. Your nipples were already erect from the cold air after your shower which drove him even crazier. His large hands gripped your breasts and you threw your head back, bucking your hips into him again slowly and repeatedly. Probably too slow for his liking, He gripped your hips hard, surely leaving bruises by morning. He held you in his grip firmly, bouncing his leg again but more violently this time, moving you with his own arms faster and harder into him. You grew closer to the edge, and you gripped his shoulders tight, letting out a loud shaky moan. You screamed , “Fuck Michael!” and is you crumbled and rode out your orgasm you fell into his chest gripping it tight. You whispered, “Thank yo-” You felt him quickly and roughly lift you off of him, dropping you onto the bed. He hovered over you, you knew he’d want more. He always does.

Brahms

Brahms, a switch if there ever was one.

You and Brahms were playing a game of hide and seek to pass the time. You were it, and having a hell of a time finding him. You heard a light childish giggle from what you knew was the other side of the wall. “Brahms, we said no cheating!” You called out to him. There was shuffling inside the wall and then you turned around to find him standing behind you,”I did not cheat, (y/n).” He spoke in his soft childish voice. “Brahms, were you in the walls?” You questioned crossing your arms over each other. The tall man looked down, “Yes, (y/n).” He answered. “Right, and that’s cheating.” You spoke sternly. He took fast, large strides toward you, as he got closer he backed you into the wall behind you. You placed a hand on his chest. “(y/n), I cheated.” He huffed, his breath flowing through the mask brushing over your hair as he towered over you. “So, you’re it then. You cheated. Those are the rules, Brahms.” You told him in a strong, strict tone. He shuffled to count and you hid in the closet in your room. You heard him walk passed you so you took that as an opportunity to run to a new spot. You were blindsided midway down the hall, by Brahms tackling you. You went straight to the floor his large hands keeping your head from hitting the wood. “I found you, I win.” He spoke. “Brahms, you aren’t supposed to tackle me. And you cheated before.” You told him. Brahms, being the brat he was huffed like a child and flipped you guys over so you were straddling his lap, instead. You reached up slowly, not wanting to startle the man under you. You gripped the bottom of the mask and lifted it slightly, just above his mouth, so you could attach your lips to his. He gripped your hips softly to adjust you slightly, so you were straddling mostly one thigh. The dress you had on, hiking up even farther, exposing the white lace panties you were wearing. They were one of the only pairs you had left. Brahms raked his hands up your thighs and up your dress and up to the skin of your sides. You let out a shaky breath grinding your hips down onto his thigh. His hands gripped you firmly under you dress causing you to repeat the action of bucking your hips. You moaned into his lips and he pulled you in closer. You gripped his hands from over your dress, steadying yourself with your weight on his arms as he played with your breasts. You let your hands fall to the floor and his hands clawed down to your hips holding you harshly on top of him. A low growl left his mouth as your hand slid up over his cock and up to his sternum as you quickly reached your high, feeling your cunt throb against the fabric of his jeans. “(y/n).” His normally childlike voice replaced with a low raspy one, saying your name made you fall apart on top of him. You collapsed completely on top of him. He flipped you two over so he hovered over you. “I want a reward too.” He spoke.

hey, do u write abt mental health ilnesses and conditions? (not romanticized ofc!!!) just asking before i submit a request :)

i will yes of course as long as it’s not romanticized or mocked (i know you stated it wasn’t just for future reference for others)

Can I request some Stu Macher domestic Headcanons :D

HAH D U H

pls i hope u like this i don’t think i’m good at headcanons lmao

•Big oof!

•You know how goofy Stu is.

•Could you imagine you guys trying to cook together???

•Food fights and a big mess resulting in ordering out to your favorite place instead.

•Movie nights that could last forever in a big cuddle of blankets,

•Sometimes on the couch.

•(mostly on the floor)

•Do you guys ever sleep in an actual bed?

•HAH no

•Stu is absolutely your biggest supporter

•Always no matter what it is

•While a complete numbnuts

•He’s still the most down to earth and sweetest boy

•When it comes down to you especially

•Will he attempt to cook for you?

•Absolutely

•Will it end well?

•Ask the fire department L O L

•Seriously, he seems like the clumsy type to me

•BUT that’s why he’s the best

•You gotta love all the smartass comments

•The dumb jokes

•His big bear hugs

•Oh, you’re not hungry?

•Too bad

•He’s a feeder especially if you’re in a sad boi shmood

•He thinks food fixes it all

•Piggy back rides and tickle fights

•Hide and seek in the mall

•This man likes to have fun and istg if you’re not having fun

•The day is cancelled until you are

Requests are open once again!

send those requests for the slasher men in your lives!

i write for everyone! any scenario i do smut and i do soft stuff whateva ya want!

edit: i do crossovers and poly

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.

KINKTOBER/GORETOBER 2021 MASTERLIST

the three goretober prompts will end with ** 

1. Face-Sitting ; Sidney Prescott

2. Vanilla ; Carrie White

3. Hair-Pulling ; Billy Loomis

4. Disembowelment ; Billy Loomis and Stu Macher **

5. Uniforms ; Lester Sinclair

6. Cock Worship ; Vincent Sinclair

7. Role Play ; Randy Meeks

9. Forced Orgasm ; Asa Emory

10. Praise Kink ; Keiji ‘Red’ Devlin

11. Recorded Sex ; Carrie White

12. Body Worship ; Randy Meeks

13. Face Fucking ; Dewey Riley

14. Orgasm Control/Edging ; Nancy Downs

15. Melting ; HoW **

16. Massage ; Ian McKinley

17. Pegging ; Bo Sinclair

18. Sex Work ; Randy Meeks

19. Glove Kink ; David TLB

20. Video Call Sex ; Poly!Ghostface

21. Wax Play ; Vincent Sinclair

22. Thigh Riding ; Tatum Riley

23. Squirting ; Randy Meeks and Mickey Altieri

24. Predator/Prey Dynamics ; Buddy Swanson and Sam Wescott

25. Titty Fucking ; Bo Sinclair (Masc!Reader)

25. Titty Fucking ; Bo Sinclair (Fem!Reader)

26. Strap ; Sidney Prescott

27. Dumbificition ; Poly! The Lost Boys

28. Corruption ; Tiffany Valentine

29. Period Sex ; Stu Macher

30. Bodies ; Asa Emory **

31. Degradation ; Sidney and Tatum

OG Michael Myers general relationship headcanons

info I can't really imagine any relationship with og Michael being healthy so a trigger warning here for : toxic relationship, mental abuse and emotional/ physical(??) abuse and Stockholm syndrome

🎃 If you have read my lgbtq+ headcanons you know I believe he is aromantic, so him being in a relationship is only because it benefits him

🎃 the beginning of it all he is very, VERY cold he just kinda exist now in your live and you know that if you even think of calling the police you'd be dead in an instance

🎃 it's very much parasitic in nature, it might not come of like that at first glance because he is bairly is there, the only thing that always stays, is his intimidating aura

🎃 if you want to survive you better be really good at cleaning blood splotches, sharpening knifes, cooking, knowing to shut your mouth and being an obedient, submissive "partner"

🎃 he sees you as an object a tool to mess around and play with, if he gets bored or you annoy him you'd be dead where you stand

🎃 it's been 3 months and your still alive?? Congratulations either youre really good at your job or he findes you interesting, probably both, let's hope it stays that way

🎃 after some time has passed Michael will be more present in your live for better or worse, you will see him hanging around the house, inspecting every nook and cranny

🎃 when he memorized the whole house then the real fun begins (for him)

🎃 he follows you around, now being able to watch you up close is very fascinating to him. Most of the time you don't even know that he is studying you, but after a while his cold glare is burned inside of your brain and you kinda develop a sixth sense, alarming you every time Michael stares at you for longer then comfortable

🎃 he likes seeing you struggle but he doesn't outright hurt you (yet), no, your far to useful for that, but just because every time he exists within your space and shows mercy it doesn't mean his sadistic ways stop

🎃 small things are put on high places, low enough to touch it, but too high up to grab it

🎃 he will sharpen dull things and keep the blade up, you thinking it's still dull enough to straight up grab it end up having a relatively deep cut, it goes through your hand like warm butter and making you yelp and curse under your breath as you feel the sudden pain

🎃 while you're far to occupied on cleaning the wound and mess, Michael watches you

🎃 those "incidence" happen often, you end up scared around your hands and arms

🎃Michael LOVES looking at them, it's the only more intimate moments you have, it all depends on you if you try to shut down emotionaly, take them in like a soft love confession or be scared for your live

🎃 his rough fingers touch every scare strangely lovingly

🎃 after another while Michael got a small taste of fucking you up mentally, swinging back and forth between sadistic and sweet

🎃 either you have a strong personality and don't fall for it, and try to somehow get out of this relationship or you succumb to Stockholm syndrome

🎃 no matter what you choose either way you can end up dead

Taking headcanon and oneshot requests now!

Decided that I wanted to write a little so the requests are open until the end of February!

Here are the rules:

💮what I don't write💮

Incest

Pedophilia

Rape (consesual noncon is okay under sertain situations but even then I might decline)

Anything to do with sexual harassment/assault, it's on thin ice I probably still write it if requested but please be aware that I might still decline

Anything that has to do with pregnancy

💮Characters I write for💮

Jason vorhees

Michael Myers OG and RZ

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Bubba Sawyer

Brahms Heelshire

Billy Lenz (OG and 06 remake)

Leslie Vernon

Nsfw requests are encouraged!

Also any other characters will get added if I watched at least one of their respective movies

If there are any questions please ask!

Edit: oh yea I forgot, I will use gender neutral terms for s/o unless the requests specifically says otherwise

Brahms x reader: soft days (??? Idk how to title)

Just some random rambelings because my head won't shut up about it and I have the attention span of a goldfish so I can't finish the art works I have

(ノ｀⌒´)ノ┫：・┻┻. ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽

Your soapy hands were softly massaging Brahms scalp, who is at the moment sheepishly splashing around the water scattering the toys in the bathtub. It was a slow and lazy day, the sun slowly going down and decorating the sky with a beautiful mixture of red, yellow and pink.

You were taking care of the real Brahms for almost 5 months and even tho so much time has passed, those soft and quiet moments were still rare. No temper tantrum, no sexual advances or jealousy because the grocery boy talked one minute longer then normally to you.

Just peace and quiet.

You carefully washed out the shampoo out of his wild and soft locks and gave him a tender kiss on his forehead making him giggle in his child voice.

Closing your tierd eyes as a hand carefully kneaded his shoulder, listening to the rain tapping on the roof.

"(Y/N), the water is getting cold"

A familiar voice sayd, you looked down, seeing your partner already gathering the toys and put them out of the tub. You hummed lightly, pulling the plug and watching the water slowly drain out.

You stepped aside making room for your boyfriend as his lanky and well build form clumsy dragged himself out, his eyes already fixated to the porcelain mask laying on the sink and reaching out.

While he was occupied with drying himself, you wrapped the colorful toys in a towel and putting them in a plastic box.

Brahms refused to take a bath if there weren't any of his favorite play things around and you definitely didn't have the nerve to walk up and down the stairs to get all his toys, so instead you organized a box and gave Brahms the option to put a few in there for bath time.

Being so lost in thought you didn't realize that your lover had already dressed himself in his pajamas, only coming back into reality when your he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and he gave you a gentle kiss on the neck.

He handed you the already plugged in blow dryer.

It didn't took long until his bird nest that he calls hair dryd. Brahms already shuffleing to the bedroom.

But he had to wait, the bathroom needed to be cleaned up first, it didn't even took a minute when you heard Brahms whining and calling your name wanting to be tucked into bed and getting his goodnight kiss.

A small giggle escaped your lips, it was kind of endearing and cute how this grown man wanted to be taken care of, yearning your tender touches and words of love.

Finally finished with your task you quickly walked into the bedroom, Brahms was siting on the edge of the bed holding his doll tight to his chest.

He gave a quite hum of approval when you finally tuck him in, his dark brown eyes looking at you lovingly, memorizing every inch of your face and the soft, warm smile it holds.

He maeby rarely says how much he appreciates your presence but there is no need for that. The way he looks at you, making small hand made gifts and those wonderful moments when he wisphers those wonderful words that make your heart skip a beat is prove enough.

You gave him his good night kiss and went out of the door, or at least that was your plan. His rough hands held your wrist, his thumb massaging circles into your skin.

"Stay"

The child voices asked, his real voice cracking cracking into the word at the end.

You nodded and placed yourself next to him under the cover.

Brahms snuggled himself next to you.

Slowly drifting of into dream world you still managed to pick up a few words

"I-I love you (Y/N)"

(This will have a bunch of spaces for those who struggle to read long/big paragraphs)

This right here is why some writers are just ready to quit, and the lack of interaction from readers, but that’s a topic for another day!

I write stories all the time but never post them because I know how rude people are. And I’m not in the right mental state to deal with that.

Writers have a life outside of writing. Let me say it again.

Creators have a life outside of creating.

They all do; writers, painters, sculptors, knitters, etc.

They do not eat, sleep, and breathe ink or clay or yarn! They have families; mothers, fathers, dogs, cats, fishes, children, husbands, girlfriends, significant others, etc.

Or maybe they just need a break for their mental health. It’s like breaking a bone.

You break your bone, go to the doctors and they tell you to rest, take medication, no physical activities, etc etc.

I’d rather that person take a break and heal instead of pushing their limits and ending up in worse condition than before.

If the creator takes the time to tell you they won’t have an update, or a project will be delayed. You can either stand by their side and give them sympathy, not pity, but sympathy.

You don’t even have to say anything, you’ve acknowledged it and moved on. You’re fine with them needing a break or having plans.

OR, you can leave. You especially do not have to say anything and can call it a day. Leave and never come back. Or leave and just randomly check in on the progress.

But never take the time to say something rude. If you do not want it said to you, do not say it to others.

If you do not want it said to you, do not say it to others.

I know some people can’t help it, but please, try to reread things. Think before you speak, type, write, sign, whatever. Just think!

(Thank you @widowbitessting for letting me use this as an example.)

Why the fuck are you not updating this weekend??? You’ve kept us waiting long enough and now you’re gonna make us wait an extra week?? Is this a joke?

Um, okay, wow. Watch your tone please?

I’m not updating this week as I’m away at a family function and I like to be around when the next part drops in case there’s any issues (like with part 3…)

Apologies you’re having to wait a little longer for the next part.

Wow.

Oh

SOMEONE NEEDS TO DRAW OR WRITE ABOUT THE SLASHERS OR CREEPYPASTA REACTING TO THE NAIR VIDEO 😭😭

Me: I watch house of wax for the plot!

The plot:

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

Dammit, I demand ask for more slasher parental headcannons bc 1. I am a mentally ill aroace spec child that wants leather face to be my adoptive father, 2. I tired of scrolling thru 'slasher x reader' tags to see a fuck ton of smut T_T. (I understand that the majority of the slasher fandom are adults that have every right to write a fuck ton of smut but I will bitch about it anyway)

Or just fluffy platonic stuff, that too. Yea make that, please... Authors, make it, please? *insert awkward coughing here*

Have a wilt gif (gif is not mine btw)

✨ The way I wish that was me on his shoulder ✨