Tumgik
birdlungg · 5 months
Text
Ok lads... she's back from the dead
I've had the worst time the last year or so and really needed the time, but I'm BACK
I will be getting to EVERY ask and request in my inbox and then will be open for further requests. Some of these are over a year old and I'm soso sorry about that but I'm gonna do it
7 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Braindead | 1992
1K notes · View notes
birdlungg · 10 months
Text
Hey everyone. Sorry I've been away for so long. I won't bore you with my sad life story but ive been having a rough go of things. I will be completely revamping this account a bit and trying to get back into writing. I appreciate you all.
3 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
My brain is plagued with Brahms Heelshire with a lactation kink. Have not been able to get this off my mind lately
I get the feeling he prefers to drink it straight from the source ( I'm like 90% sure he got a mommy kink ).
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Text
Well my babygirl man is older and more mentally ill than yours
21K notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Text
Masterlist
I will do my best to keep this updated!  You can also find some of this on my AO3 here.  
Michael Myers Don’t Fear the Reaper (MM x GN!Reader, multichapter fic, NSFW) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Smaller Than the Ocean, Bigger Than You (MM x GN!Reader, fluff & smut, NSFW) Needful Things (MM x GN!Reader, Michael’s POV, SFW) Needful Things II (same as above) Needful Things III (same as above) Spoils of War (MM x AFAB!Reader, smut all the way, NSFW) Spa Night (MM x GN!Reader, fluff & smut, NSFW) Love Me Mercilessly (MM x AFAB!Reader, smuuut NSFW) Covet (MM x AFAB!Reader, NSFW smut & angst) Song Sharing (RZ!MM x GN!Reader, fluff) Michael is Basically a Cat (MM x GN!Reader, SFW fluff blurbs) Doing Time (Peepaw Myers thinking thoughts, Michael’s POV) H-O-M-E (MM x GN!Reader, SFW fluff)
Crossover Two Boys in the Woods (Michael Myers & Jason Voorhees, SFW) Scare Me (College AU, Michael Myers/Jason Voorhees/Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Immortal Final Girl OC, SFW)
Sinclair Brothers A Gentleman and a Scoundrel Masterlist (Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader, multichapter NSFW smut, fluff, some angst) I Only Have Eyes for You (And You, and You) (Poly!Sinclairs x GN!Reader, SFW fluff) All You Have is Your Fire (Non-reader, angst, SFW but read the CWs) Sinclair Household HCs A Matching Set of Spoons (Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!GN!Reader, SFW fluff) The Sundress (Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!AFAB!Reader, NSFW fluff & smut) Never Again (Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!GN!Reader, SFW angst) Lester’s Nightmare (Lester Sinclair x GN!Reader, SFW comfort) Sleepy Sinclair HCs  Four’s Company (Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!AFAB!Reader, NSFW smut) Why Are You Here? (Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader, NSFW angst smut) The Devil Himself (Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader, NSFW smut w/ CWs!!) Part of the Family (Poly!Sinclairs x GN!Reader, SFW angst/comfort w/ CWs!) Workaholic (Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader, SFW comfort) Taking care of sick Sinclairs blurb (tiny SFW fluff thoughts) For Your Safety, I’ll Be Gentle (Vincent Sinclair x GN!Reader, NSFW smut) Dilf!Lester caught in the rain blurb Angsty twin thoughts (tiny SFW angst thoughts) Did You Touch Yourself While I Was Gone? (Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader, NSFW smut) Once I Start, I Can’t Stop (Lester Sinclair x GN!Reader, NSFW smut) College!Vincent blurb Tourniquet (Non-reader, angst, SFW with hefty CWs) Novelty Mugs (Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!GN!Reader, SFW fluff) College!Vincent w/ shy reader blurb The Dusty Shelf (Vincent Sinclair x GN!Reader, SFW fluff) These Violent Delights (Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader angst!!) Dawn (Vincent Sinclair x GN!Reader, SFW fluff) Carnival Games (Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader angst) Wet Dream (Vincent Sinclair x Hinge!GN!Reader x Bo Sinclair, NSFW smut) Date Night (Dark!Bo Sinclair x Victim!GN!Reader hurt/comfort/angst, slightly NSFW, CWs!!) His (Sequel to above, very NSFW smut/hurt/comfort) Breakfast Food (Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader, sexy fluff) Ambrose Ghosts (All three Sinclair brothers, horror angst) It Ain’t Georgia, But It’s Close Enough (Bo Sinclair, horror angst)
376 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Text
Adding Rusty Nail from Joy Ride to my list of approved murder husbands!
74 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Text
𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐢.
Tumblr media
kinktober masterlist
day thirty-one: consensual non consent
pairing: ghostface x fem!reader
warnings: smut {role play fantasy with aftercare}. dark themes — cnc, dubious consent, taunting, death threats, home invasion, knife play, object insertion, choking, slapping, and unprotected sex. smidge of daddy kink at the end. lines from the film are used because i’m a nerd and this is purely self indulgent
word count: 2.5k
from the writer: keeping with the tradition of me never posting on time, here’s this cheeky fic that was supposed to be up yesterday lol. i think it’s safe to say that my *cough* attraction to ghostface is quite well known but can you blame me? also this can be read with your favourite character in mind!
knife divider is by @firefly-graphics
eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.
please remember that you are responsible for your media consumption and should the warnings make you uncomfortable, do not continue reading.
Tumblr media
The scent of salty buttered popcorn pervades the air, and as the beginning to your favourite slasher played, you supposed there were worse ways to spend Halloween.
You’d triple checked the locks, making sure you were safe in the house since you knew your boyfriend wouldn’t be back from work until early morning — the downfalls of being a bartender.
With a resigned sigh, you relax back into the couch, making yourself comfortable as you tried to not make figures out of the shadows dancing on the walls.
“Why would you do that?” you muttered around a handful of food. “Don’t run up the stairs, go out the front door! Idiot.”
The brunette on screen runs for her bedroom, shouting for help as she attempted to use a landline to call the police — only to find it had been cut.
It goes quiet, the noise from the knife-wielding killer seemingly disappearing before a bang on her window has her shrieking in fear.
Unexpectedly, you hear a noise leave your own throat at the sound of your phone ringing in time with the scream.
Heart pounding in your ears, you shake your head, mumbling under your breath, “I’m the idiot.”
Answering the unknown call, you’re greeted with nothing but static. “Hello?” At the silence, you try once more. “Anyone there?”
Nothing.
Hanging up, you barely have the phone out of your hand before the ringtone sounds again.
“Yes?”
“Hello.” The voice is deep, with an edge of darkness to it that vibrates through the speaker, sending a shiver down your spine.
It wasn’t familiar, that much you knew — but it was Halloween, and you supposed there was no harm in entertaining another lonely soul.
“Uh, hi.” You keep your voice light, kind as you twirl a piece of frayed cotton on your sleep shorts.
“Who is this?” Their voice crackles over the line, and you can’t help but giggle.
“I think you might’ve dialled the wrong number.”
“Did I?”
You shrug as though they can see you. “It happens, take it easy.”
“Wait, wait,” you hear them call out to you. “Don’t hang up.”
“Is this one of those things where you call a random number hoping to get a date? Because I don’t know if anyone told you, but this isn’t the 90s.”
Their chuckle raises the hairs on the back of your neck. “No, nothing like that.”
“So why call a stranger?”
They don’t miss a beat. “Why keep talking to one?”
“Lack of judgement, perhaps.”
“That doesn’t sound very safe for someone like you.”
Brows furrowed you ask, “Someone like me?”
“A young woman, one whose all by herself.”
Red flashes in your mind, trepidation curling as you listen to their certainty.
“And how would you know I’m either of those things?”
“Just a guess.”
Swallowing, you reply, “It’s getting late. I should probably let you go.” The sound of rustling trees hitting your window has you looking outside. “Have a good night.”
Trying to take your mind off the strange feeling that’s settling in your stomach, you focus back on the film.
Only that doesn’t last too long before your phone lights up once more.
“Hello.”
An awkward laugh escapes you. “Hi, again.”
“Sorry,” their apology is anything but sincere. “Seems I called the wrong number.”
“You must be bored if you’re so intent on talking to someone you don’t know.”
They huff, almost amused, “What if I said I just like the sound of your voice?”
The compliment has you feeling warm, but you’re unsure of how to respond. “I think you’re just—”
A startled yelp escapes you, the loud bang coming from your television catching you off-guard.
“What was that?”
Feeling stupid, you explain, “Oh, just some scary movie.”
“Horror?”
You turn the noise down on the television. “Slasher.”
It should come as no surprise, the cliche that that they use. “Do you like scary movies?”
“How utterly original of you.”
Their tone is sharp as they rasp, “You didn’t answer my question.”
You don’t know what it is — maybe it’s the unfamiliar voice, or the fact that you’re alone — but the anxiety in your stomach has you feeling nauseous.
“Look, it really is late and this was fun but, I think it’s better if we end it here.” You’re nervous as you try to stick with your assertion. “See ya’.”
“Don’t hang up on me.”
You missed their warning.
Tumblr media
Be home soon, we’re closing early xx
You read the text from your boyfriend with a tender smile. It’d been an hour since the strange phone calls, but you were still on edge.
Maybe it was crazy to assume, but ever since you’d hung up, you swore it felt like you were being watched. And with that paranoia growing, you’d decided it was probably time for bed.
Turning everything off, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, making sure the curtains were shut before prying back your covers.
The sound of ringing distracts you for a moment, but thinking it to be your boyfriend, you don’t check the Caller ID as you answer. “Hey, baby.”
“Expecting someone?”
It’s as though ice water it thrown over you, dread clawing it’s way at your chest as you hear that voice.
“Why are you calling?”
“Wrong number.”
You scoff, “Hilarious.”
“It doesn’t look like you’re laughing.”
Goosebumps kiss your skin as you repeat their words over in your head.
“What did you say?”
“I said it doesn’t sound like you’re laughing.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“What do you think I said?”
Your frustration gets the better of you. “Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing at but whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
“Why?” They ask, “Are you getting scared?”
“No, I’m bored.”
They call you back immediately.
“Listen Asshole—”
“No, you listen you little bitch. Hang up on me again, and your boyfriend will find you hanging from the ceiling, you understand?”
Tears prick at your eyes as fear overcomes you. “Why are you doing this?”
“You answered.”
A heavy crash is heard from the floor below you, glass smashing, and it takes you a moment to realise that there was nothing coming from the other end of your phone.
“Shit,” you curse as you realise it’d gone dead.
There was nowhere for you to go — if you left the room, then you only had ten seconds between you and the front door.
But if you stayed, well, you didn’t want to know.
Quietly, you tip-toe to the door, peaking outside for any sight of the intruder but there was nothing, hardly a slither of light shining as you walked outside and peered over the railing.
You’d never been more grateful for your boyfriend’s terrible taste in carpet.
Slowly, you made your way down the stairs. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline you could feel pumping through your veins, the noises coming from the living room would’ve induced you to a sobbing mess.
Holding your breath, you reach the final step before exhaling. As quickly as you can manage, you find your way down the darkened hallway.
Only when you reach the front door do you realise you’d mess up.
It was locked — dead bolted, with no way out. You’d have to get your keys, only problem? They were in the kitchen.
You were fucked. Absolutely and completely fucked.
Heavy footsteps approach, and you’re grateful for your fight or flight response as your body carries you toward a closet, hiding in it as you wait for them to pass by.
Just outside the door, you can hear the intruder’s grunts — obviously frustrated that they hadn’t found you.
It seems like hours have passed by the time they retreat, stalking off to another room and you make the decision to go outside.
At least you had an advantage — this was your home. You knew the layout better than the person who had broken in, so, you keep a vigilant watch as you press your back to the wall and slide across.
Luckily, the kitchen wasn’t too far and you could see your keys sitting in the tray.
You’re just in reach before you hear scuffling, ducking down behind the island, you wait.
One, two, three, four…
Standing up, and ready to leave — you flinch at the sight of the person that stands opposite you.
They’re large; standing over six foot with a bulky frame, but what terrifies you the most is the costume that adorns their frame.
A black hooded robe covers the entirety of their figure, with tattered edgers that look like they move swiftly, all leading up to the white Ghostface mask that conceals their identity.
Within a split second, they’re barrelling towards you and you hardly make it out of their grip before you’re bolting.
Empty handed, you make the only decision that comes to mind — running for the stairs and hoping you can make it to your room and lock the door.
Huffs come from behind you, they’re close — too close, and you grab the closest item to you before throwing it back.
It helps, giving you an extra step ahead as you round the corner and make it into your room.
It’s not enough.
Large hands reach for you, wrapping their arms around your middle as they press you back into their chest.
“No!” A sob wretches from the back of your throat. “Please, don’t do this!”
They say nothing, holding you tight against them before you feel something cool touch your neck.
Shushes are whispered into your ear, the press of the knife digging in far enough to not draw blood. Not yet.
Water trails down your cheeks, and you can taste the salty tears on your tongue as you beg them to let you go.
They push you forward in response, straight toward your bed.
Falling to your hands and knees, you lean your forehead against the bed as you feel the metal trail up your exposed legs, shivering as you try to stay still.
“Why are you doing this?” The words are small, exactly how you feel as the knife goes underneath your clothing.
A tearing sound causes you to wince. They were strong too, being able to destroy the fabric to shreds with very little exertion.
Cold air hits your bare thighs, and it’s only then when you realise the warmth coming from your centre.
Was it wrong to be turned on? To feel yourself grow wet from being at the total mercy of a stranger — of a person who is about to use you in whatever way they want.
Your control was gone, completely given up.
The handle of the knife glides through your puffy folds, accumulating slick as it nudges your swollen clit.
A moan leaves you, the rough sensation making your cunt even messier as they spread your arousal around.
Tip prodding your entrance, you gasp as it steadily sinks in, thrusting shallowly.
Pent up from all of the emotions, your release finds you sooner than expected — clenching down on the object, your body trembles as an orgasm rips through you, riding it out before you feel empty.
They shuffle behind you, cloth fluttering over your skin.
“W-wait!” You reach back, pushing at their thigh. “Please, no!”
A gloved hand reaches around your throat, squeezing harshly in warning. You whimper, feeling their hard, leaking cock hang heavy as they soak themselves in your juices.
They don’t give you time to adjust, sliding their cock into your cunt with one, fluid motion before they start thrusting.
“Fuck,” you squeal at the size of them.
There was no kindness — their cock was thick, filling you in a way that you’d never experienced. You swore that every time their tip caught on the ring of muscles, that you were going to split open.
They forced your little hole to take it, pounding brutally as they cut off your oxygen supply, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
It was mean, rough — borderline feral in the way their hips drove into you, their balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.
Your skin was glossy with sweat, and when they finally let go of your throat, you let yourself fall forward. Head down in the sheets, you could feel their bruising grip stake claim on your hips, silent in their rough ministrations.
Suddenly, you’re upright — crying out at the new angle. Their cock was brushing your cervix with each hit, and your head was back on their shoulder as you worked yourself up and down on their length.
Being this close, you could hear the deep growls and grunts coming from your assailant. You let your eyes wander, turning yourself slightly and the sight of the ominous Ghostface mask was enough to have you squeezing — ready to come again.
“Please, oh fuck, ‘m gonna come.” Your voice is whiny, breathless as you continue to take their fucking.
A sharp slap across your face has you crying, meeting his thrusts more vigorously.
“C’mon, Ghost,” the nickname slips from your mouth. “You can come inside, fuck, it’s okay, I want it.”
You don’t think they care too much for your consent at this point, but the lust had overtaken your common sense — too content with receiving the best sex you’d ever had.
It has the desired affect as they shudder, and their actions intensify — if that was even possible. Each thrust felt like it was kissing your throat, and you knew it wouldn’t take much longer.
Reaching down, you take one of their hands in yours before bringing it back to your neck.
They take the bait, pinching the skin at the same time their other hand comes to slap your sensitive bud, sending you hurling over the edge as your climax hits you full-force.
A long, high-pitched shriek fills the room as you release all over their cock. Ghostface’s hips stutter, and you play your own sick little game as you milk their cock. An animalistic sound tears through their throat, and you feel his hot cum sear against your inner walls.
They pump themselves in and out of your weeping cunt a few times before pulling out, pushing your spent body forward as you assume them to be admiring their work.
Taking deep breaths, you wait for the next move — relief soaring as you hear their footsteps descend.
You don’t realise you’ve dozed off until a soft touch is felt against your hair. “Darlin’, c’mon I gotta know you’re alright.”
A dopey smile takes over your face, and you open your eyes to meet those of your boyfriend’s. “‘M perfect, baby. ‘Sgood, fucked me dumb.”
He laughs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against your lips and you savour the taste of him. His hands gently take hold of your body, turning you around so that your back is on the bed. “Y’look so pretty like this, little one.”
“Yeah, daddy?”
“Mhm.” His face and body now on display, much to your preference, he snakes his way down your body before settling between your legs.
You hiss as you feel him spread the lips of your abused cunt, letting him play with the mixes of your come.
“Now be my good girl and keep still, daddy’s gonna clean you up.”
1K notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
Hi hi! The HC for Harry really got me thinking about the under the bed scene from the 2009 version. Is it possible to request something along those lines, but with a little more "wall-pinned-choking-roughly-and mercilessly-fucked" type action to it instead of being slaughtered? 😫🤞
THHIS IS SO GOOD I LOVE HIM
Tweaked the plot a liiiiittle bit
Angst then smutty
Let me know if you want a part two!
Tumblr media
Your relationship with Harry was beautiful. He was the most wonderful man you’d ever met. And then the explosion happened. Harry was in a coma and they said that he killed the other survivors to preserve his own air, but you didn’t believe it. Your Harry could never do something like that. Your Harry would bring you flowers to make up for the fact that he tracked soot into the house every time he came home from work. Your Harry would always remember special dates. Your Harry had an engagement ring hidden in his bedside drawer, that you only found after he was in his coma and have worn ever since.
You didn’t care that people whispered and glared whenever you were in town or when you went to visit him. He was still your Harry. You went to see him everyday, telling him about current events and how much you missed him. You had already been to see him that morning, so you weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary when you arrived home that night.
You didn’t realize that the door was already open when you got in, too exhausted from the visit and the attitude you got from the townsfolk while you ran your errands. The house is dark, aside the the kitchen light you just turned on ou set your groceries down with a sigh. Staring longingly at your engagement ring, you start to put the groceries away, humming softly to yourself. You don’t notice the dark figure watching you from the living room as you go about your business, too far in your own head to be aware of your surroundings.
Once the groceries are put away, you make your way down the hallway to the bedroom, turning the light on as you go. When the light flicks on, it illuminates the figure standing at the end of the hallway, dressed in a miner’s uniform. You scream, backing up into the wall as he stalks toward you. You bolt into the bedroom, shutting and locking the door before he gets to it. He slams against it as you start to panic, trying to find anywhere to hide. A pickaxe pierces through the flimsy wood door and you scream again, looking around frantically for a place to hide. Your eyes settle on the bed as he keeps hacking away at the door, and you slide underneath it quickly, covering your mouth with a shaking hand.
He breaks through the door not a moment later. You watch through tear filled eyes as he slowly steps closer and closer to your hiding place. Suddenly, the bed is ripped up from the floor and thrown across the room and you scream again, trying to crawl away as he reaches for you. He grabs your shirt and pulls you up, dragging you to the wall and pushing you up against it.
“Please don’t hurt me,” you sob at the figure. He says nothing, but instead releases his hold on your shirt to rest his hand against the side of your face. You instinctively bring your hands up in a protective position, making your ring glint off of the moonlight coming through the window. He freezes, then steps away from you, bringing his free hand up taking off his mask in one smooth motion. It’s Harry, your Harry.
You gasp, staring at him in disbelief. You saw him just this morning in a coma, and now he’s standing here before you in the home you shared.
“Is.. is this real?” You whisper, not sure if to him or yourself. You reach out with shaking hands and touch his face, cupping his cheeks like you would after he had a long work day. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his face further into your hands. Dream or not, this was your Harry. You slam your lips to his and he’s quick to respond, dropping the mask and pickaxe and wrapping his hands around your hips to pull you to him. His kisses have always been passionate, but this kiss is different. he’s more forceful than he once was, kissing you like he needs you to breathe.
You pull away to gasp for air and he follows, notching his head into the nook of your shoulder and lifting you. He presses you against the wall again, wrapping your legs around his hips. It doesn’t even cross. Your mind how he can still be so strong after a year of no activity. You arch against him, finally feeling the closeness of another person after a year. You rock against each other for a bit as he bites and licks at your neck, making his way to the skin exposed by your top. He holds you up with one hand, using the other to free himself from his clothes and push your panties aside under your short skirt. You don’t need any preparation, already wet from dry humping him and he slides home easily.
“Harry,” you sob, crying for a completely different reason than before. He pumps into you roughly, taking what he wants from you and making you take what he gives. You move his face from your cleavage to kiss him again and he obliges. You teeth clack together as his tongue swirls with yours. You reach your end quickly, after a year of not being touched you stand no chance of lasting. He’s right behind you, coming deep inside you as you sigh against his mouth. You rest there for a few moments catching your breath against him before he pulls his face from yours. The activity tired you out even more than before, and you can feel your eyes fighting to stay open as you smile sadly at your Harry.
“This is the best dream I’ve had in awhile, all things considered.” You whisper to him. The last thing you see if his face before your eyes close.
A pounding on your front door startles you from sleep. You bolt upright in bed, glancing around your room. Your bed is put together how it always is and you sigh, upset at yourself for having another hopeful dream. Your heart stops as you see the door, smashed to smithereens. So then- you turn to the mirror on your vanity opposite the bed. Your neck and chest are full of hickies and your skirt is pulled up, exposing cum filled panties.
It wasn’t a dream after all! Then where is he? The pounding on your front door continues, and you scramble out of bed, pulling your skirt down and rushing to the front door. You open it to see a bunch of police lights and cops outside, all staring at your house with hands on their guns.
Just what the hell happened?
590 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Text
The Request
Bo Sinclair x Reader
You have a dirty request for Bo
AN: this is fucking FILTHY. BE WARNED. I’ll add a read more later. Let me know what you think!
Tumblr media
It’s been on your mind for while. You do it on your own, but had never asked him in the time you had been together. Would he think it was gross? Would he break up with you? You finally decide to bring it up to him, but maybe you could have chosen a better time.
You’re sitting in on of the chairs in the Ambrose garage, doodling on a piece of scrap paper while Bo works underneath the car nearby, his feet sticking out from beneath.
“Hey, Bo?” You start hesitantly. He grunts from beneath the car, letting you know he’s listening.
“I wanna try anal.” Bo drops the wrench he’s working with and jerks his head up in surprise, slamming his forehead into the bottom of the car with a loud ‘fuck!’.
“Jesus, Bo!” You jump to your feet as he rolls out from beneath the car and stands shakily. He’s already developing quite the bump on his forehead and groans as you prod at it gently.
“Are you ok?” You ask, instantly regretting it as you receive a glare from him.
“No, I’m not fucking ok! My girl just asked me for fucking anal while I’m underneath a 2 ton vehicle!” You roll your eyes and push him away from you gently.
“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna try to knock yourself out! A simple no would have been fine.” You grumble the last bit to yourself and turn to leave, but he isn’t gonna let you go so quick, grabbing your arm and pulling you to his chest.
“No, you don’t get to leave so quick after that. You serious? You really want me to fuck your asshole, baby?” He smirks down at you as you try to avoid eye contact, looking at his grease covered overalls instead. Bo is having none of it, gripping your hair firmly and tilting your head up until you’re looking at him with a gasp.
“Use your words, baby.” You swallow hard, before nodding.
“Yes. I want you to fuck me in the ass.” He groans low in his throat, tilting your head to the side so he can nose at your throat.
“Mmm baby, you better know what you’re asking for. Don’t want you to regret it later.” You roll your eyes again, knowing that’s as close as he’ll get to showing you his ‘soft side’ (as Bo likes to tell you, none of him is soft.).
You brush his hand to the side and step backwards away from him, making your way to the workbench you were at before. You make sure he’s watching and bend yourself over, breasts pressed flat against the cluttered countertop and ass in the air. You shake it gently, watching Bo’s coveralls get tighter as his eyes darken.
“Do I look like I’m gonna regret it, Beauregard?” He’s on you in seconds, wrenching your head to the side to pull you into a bruising kiss. He pulls away for a moment, removing your clothes quickly until you’re naked before him. He knows you really like being naked while he’s mostly clothed, so he keeps his cover alls on, unzipping them and slipping his arms out so he’s only in his white undershirt and the bottoms. He bends you over again, spreading your shaking legs with a booted foot. He wolf whistles when he sees how wet you already are, the thought of doing this in the garage in the middle of the day making you drip.
“Mmm, thought I was gonna have to grab some lube for you baby, but I think I’ll just use some of this pussy juice.” He drags his thumb across your opening and circles your clit as you gasp. He works you for a moment, making you impossibly wetter as you push yourself back into him. He brings his thumb to his mouth and closes his eyes as he savors your taste. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would spend forever tasting you if he could.
“One more taste before the main course,” he grins wickedly to himself. Before you can ask what he means, he drops to his knees and buries his face in your cunt. You screech in surprise, trying to move away when he attacks your clit with his lips only to have him dig his fingers into your hips to keep you from moving. You shake and moan as he slurps at you, getting so close to the edge, but than he’s pulling away.
You whine as he licks his lips, arching your back even further to chase him. He laughs meanly at you, standing and rearranging his clothes so he can pull his thick cock out.
“Poor baby,” he coos, rubbing his cock head against your clit. You turn to say something snarky to him but before you can, he moves his cock to your pussy and bottoms out in one thrust. Your breath is punched out of you and he starts thrusting slowly, just trying to get your juices on his cock. He stays in you balls deep for a moment, as he wipes some of the slick dripping down your legs with his thumb before bringing it up to your unoccupied hole.
“Remember to breathe, baby,” he tells you, rubbing around the ring of muscle with his wet finger. You breath deeply as he pushes it into you, moaning loudly once it’s all the way in. You hear a low ‘fuck’ from Bo as he works his thumb in and out of you. He fuck you open with his thumb, before taking it out and spreading your cheeks.
“You ready, baby girl?” You nod vigorously, just wanting his to fuck you already and he chuckles again at your expense, slowly pulling his cock from your dripping pussy and finally, finally you have him where you want him. He pushes in as slow as he can, wanting to make it easy for you even though every bone in his body says to do otherwise.
You knees give out, and you’re thankful for the table underneath you and Bo’s grip on your ass, otherwise you know you;d have fallen. You fee like you can’t breathe as he bottoms out, gasping for breath as he groans loudly. Then he starts thrusting, and you swear you can feel tears come to your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, fucking you faster. “Not gonna last long.” His hips hit yours with every thrust, the sound echoing throughout the garage. You come suddenly, tears streaming down your face as you squirt for the first time. The sensation of your twitching hole causes Bo to reach his end, and he comes deep inside you with a grunt. He pulls his softening cock out slowly, admiring both of your dripping holes with a sleazy grin. He releases your ass to run his hands lovingly down your sides, feeling you shiver as the cool air of the garage hits your sweaty body.
“Well,” he starts wolfishly, caressing you gently. “I learned two new things about you today.”
442 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
Hey idk if your gonna see this but, is it ok if your stick doing the huntress, like the reader telling anna she’s pregnant? If possible if not it’s okay, I was just wondering bc I’ve seen none so far and it’s broken my heart.
This has been in my drafts for SO LONG I’m sorry I’m only getting to it now
���———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
It finally happened! After trying for so long, the stick in your hands has a little plus sign. You had your suspicions. Your breast were more tender than usual and you were extra tired lately. You hadn’t said anything to Anna, not wanting to get her hopes up. How do you tell her? You have the feeling that she would appreciate you being upfront about it, so that’s what you’ll do.
You wait on the couch of your little shared cabin for her, nervously playing with your fingers. What if she’d changed her mind now that it’s happened? No, you think. She would have told you. You’ve both been looking forward to this.
Anna comes come before long, interrupting your thoughts. You stand immediately to greet her, already tearing up. She seems to sense that something is up, approaching you carefully before before pulling you into her arms.
“Anna,” you start, tears running down your face already. You’re so overwhelmed with emotion that you can’t find the rest of your words and opt to instead hand her the pregnancy test. She takes it slowly, hands shaking as she looks down at the symbol. A choked sound comes from behind her mask and you lift your hands and take it off, dropping it to the floor when you see her tear stained face.
“You did it,” she whispers huskily, dropping to her knees to bury her face gently into your midriff. You card your fingers through her hair with one hand, wiping away your tears with the other.
“No, we did it,” you correct gently.
43 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
bonus +
Tumblr media
Jason Voorhees | Friday the 13th (2009)
1K notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
So i was doing my daily slasher fantasizing and uh
Would you be interested in writing a drabble where reader goes outside to a big, hulking, shirtless jason chopping firewood?
I just-- my brain is m e l t i n g
Jason: minding his business and chopping wood for his lady
Us: I have never been more aroused
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
The weather has gotten steadily colder over the last few weeks, causing you to scramble to make sure you have everything ready for the impending snowfall. You’ve stocked upon food and fuzzy socks and Jason repaired every hole in your little cabin. Looks like things are finally in order!
Jason wasn’t in bed this morning when you woke up, the bed already cold. You sigh and roll into your side, trying to find the motivation to get out of bed. It only takes you ten minutes this morning, and before long you’re up and dressed warmly, armed with a thermos of hot chocolate for your husband. He never acquired the taste for coffee like you had, so you always kept a big container in your home for him.
You hum to yourself as you walk through the camp, wrapping Jason’s flannel that you tossed on tighter around your body with one hand. When you do find him, you stop cold in your tracks.
He’s chopping firewood in the dense thicket near the kitchens. He’s shirtless, wearing just his mask, jeans and boots with sweat dripping down his thick body. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but the sight of your muscular husband slick with sweat makes you gape and fumble with the thermos, dropping it onto the ground. Jason freezes mid swing at the sound and snaps his head over to you. He visibly relaxes when he realizes it’s you, but cocks his head to to the side when he notices that you’re staring at his slack jawed.
You snap back to reality, clearing your throat, embarrassed at being caught ogling your own husband and retrieve the hot chocolate from it’s bed of leaves.
“I brought you some coco!” You tell him, looking everywhere but directly at him. He grins behind his mask, both happy to see you and realizing what’s going on.
Jason swings the axe into the standing log and leaves it there, stalking his way toward you as he lifts his mask to the top of his head. You finally make eye contact with him, grinning wide as you see his handsome face. He bends his much larger figure down and kisses you soundly, wrapping his large hands around your hips. You kiss him back, trailing your hands up his damp torso until they find his shoulders.
Maybe you should start bringing him hot chocolate more often.
207 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
Hey there! May I have a request for slashers (please let there be Tommy and the Sinclair Bros) where they have a fem chubby s/o who dresses up in a wholesome vintage fashion and has the most soothingly deep singing voice
(Just got inspired by listening to the singer November Ultra. Her songs legit are therapeutically beautiful especially the one called "Come Into My Arms")
THIS IS SO CUTE AAAAAAAA
Headcanons!
Tommy:
- LOVESLOVESLOVES YOUR FASHION SENSE
- think you are the cutest and most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth and he WILL tell anyone that will listen
- PLEASE in this boy to sleep it’s all he wants from you
- the rest of the family will just have to deal with you singing every time you’re around Tommy because he won’t let you stop
Vincent:
- ADORES YOUR STYLE
- he looks at you like a work of art, even more precious than his own creations
- starts dressing up his figures in styles close to yours since he loves it so much
- LOVES when you sing to him while he’s working. Bo acts irritated with it whenever he hears you sing to Vincent but he wouldn’t dare ask you to stop
Bo
- honestly, this man could not care less what style you wear as long as you look good (you do, and he will tell you that)
- because he’s a Big Tough Man, he’ll act all nonchalant but you’ll sometimes find new articles of clothing in your wardrobe. Of course, he has no idea what you’re talking about when you ask about it
- acts like he can’t stand you singing but WILL listen in when you don’t know he’s there. Likes seeing you happy but won’t tell you as that
Lester
- I think of him as in between the Vincent and Bo spectrum,as long as you’re happy, do what you want
- likes to look at you like a creeper. But you love him so it’s fine
- 100000% would ask to record you singing so he can listen to it in the truck
91 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Text
Starting a new wip moodboard
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
409 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
You write the hottest, most exciting Pyramid Head stuff, I swear. If you have the time and disposition, could you pretty please write his reaction to getting his first BJ from his SO? Thanks.
Thank you! I appreciate you <3
Tumblr media
OK SO FIRST OFF, there's no way you're fitting that whole cock in your throat so jot that down. It's more of a double handjob with some tongue action.
He would say no at first because he's so much bigger than you, but he eventually gives in after a few dirty tricks.
He would make all sorts of noises, growls, hisses, and grunts, you're almost worried that another monster is going to come across you but you know that they wouldn't dare.
When he finally comes, you better be ready because there's a lot of it. It does not taste pleasant but he could not care less that you spit.
235 notes · View notes
birdlungg · 1 year
Note
I forgot to mention too I finally got to watch The Boy and my god Brahms has me on my KNEES. BEGGIN. PLEADIN. it fits in so well with my mommy kink, its like a puzzle piece i never knew was missing 🙏
YOU GET IT
Like holy shit this man would have the biggest mommy kink out of any one, except maybe Jason
I JUST WANT HIM TO CALL ME MOMMY AND DO NAUGHTY THINGS GOODBYE
2 notes · View notes