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#Jesse Cromeans
evilvvithin · 2 days
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LAID TO REST robert hall, 2009
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ladykitsunex · 8 months
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Me at 3am reading slasher fanfiction
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mixreality · 7 months
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ah...
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doomh3ad · 2 years
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i'm a whore for him (he is is deeply damaged and mentally unstable)
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ebonyslasher · 1 month
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Sleeping Time
A little something creepy for Valentine's Day. Hope you all enjoy!!
TW: A teeny mention of non-con thoughts in Billy's part
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Michael was the subject expert at watching people from afar. Although he was tall, he was easy to miss for those who weren't paying attention. Even when he was on the prowl, ready to kill a nearby target, they still wouldn’t feel his presence until it was too late. 
This was the same with you, as you soundly slept in your soft bed. Pillows surrounded you like a halo, the fan blowing right on your unconscious form. Michael stood off to the side of the bed, watching as you rested. You were none the wiser, not even feeling the aura of his presence in the room.
Michael tilted his head as he observed your relaxed face. You were unlike most he came across, your look was so beautifully unique. At first glance, he was immediately obsessed. His cold eyes took note of your position, on your back with one arm lifted over your head. The only sign that you were alive was the movement from your chest. Something that could be easily taken away, if Michael so chooses. 
But, he doesn’t. He viewed your eyebrows, nose, and ears first. His eyes traveled down towards your mouth, chin, and then your neck. He spent ample time observing, his eyes going back and forth between your features. However, he couldn’t help but gravitate his view towards your neck. Especially when you move your head from side to side. Your neck didn’t look fragile, but it didn’t look strong either. Your skin looked smooth. The appeal of your neck made him want to reach out and squeeze. To see your pretty eyes open in shock and pain as he drained your breath from you. 
But, he doesn’t.
 Maybe one day. 
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Danny Johnson was a born stalker. In elementary school, it was seen as a childish quirk that he had. Easily dismissable. In middle school, it started to become concerning, but fluctuating hormones were used as an excuse. With eyes on his behavior, he tried to break the habit. In high school, he tried his best but failed. By adulthood, he had practiced how to get away with it. Now, he was using those skills to watch you. 
Being a journalist had its perks. That meant he could carry a camera with him wherever he went. He had been stalking you for a while, taking notes on where you went and any routine(s) you had. He would often take pictures, usuallywhen you were looking off to the side or down. At first he was excited to have pictures of you so he could hang them in his room. However, he wanted a closer look, getting frustrated with just zooming as a temporary relief. Danny could only get so close to you in public without notice.
Danny planned to break into your house, once he was comfortable knowing the layout. He was already watching you from the window. You had knocked out on the couch with the TV still on. Bingo.
He carefully walked through the front door and silently made his way over to the couch. You didn’t stir at his presence, giving him plenty of time to watch you.
Finally, Danny could look at you closely. He peered at your face, eyes zooming in on your jawline and puffed cheeks. You looked so cute, so fragile. The desire to stab or pinch your cheeks made him smile wildly in glee. But…he didn’t want to ruin that pretty face. 
In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to entertain the image. Ghostface unsheathed his dagger and lightly traced the tip of it right above your jawline and cheek. The peach fuzz on your face raised, the tip of the hair touching the knife. But, your skin was none the wiser. The urge to cut down on your fantastic skin increased. He did not want to ruin the moment, so he retracted the blade from your face. 
He took a moment to look at you again. How peaceful. Danny gets out his phone, making sure the shutter from the camera app was silent. He took up close pictures of each individual part of your face. That cute nose. Beautiful eyelashes. Amazing shaped eyes. Soft, delectable lips. He sighed in pleasure at the view each time his camera focused. 
Once he was satisfied, he walked out of the house. As he made his way home, he began to plan your kidnapping. There was no way he’d let anyone else view your perfect face ever again.
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He had been stalking you for 3 weeks now. The first week was spent getting to know your routine, place of residence, car, and whatever else he could find. The second week, he went through the local building department archives, obtaining the blueprint to your house. The third week he solidified his plans, confident with your schedule and house layout. He had broken in a few times while you were away to practice.
However, one thing that he had trouble with was the dilemma of what he wanted to do with you. He needed to decide whether to have you in his collection or to keep for himself. Viewing you from a distance was not enough to make his decision. The pictures hanging in your house didn’t help him decide either. They were not enough, he had to get closer.
It was 2:03 am when he disabled your security system and snuck into your house. He goes straight to your bedroom, not wanting to waste any time. Thankfully, the door to your room was slightly open enough for him to slide through. He goes in, quietly walking up to your sleeping form.
You were sleeping on your side, hugging the pillow under your head. Your arm did not obscure the view from your face, thankfully. Asa focused on the curve of your nose that flowed nicely into wide nostrils. There was a shine against your skin, blessed moonlight rays hitting you from the window. Your eyebrows, which would scrunch intermittently, fanned out beautifully. As he took in more of your features, he wondered between the two options. While stalking you, he would watch your facial expressions often. They were quite alluring.
 If you were part of the collection, he would have to decide which facial expression would be best to accentuate your features. A hard decision, as so many suited you just right. 
But…..
If collected, he wouldn’t be able to see the full range of how you changed your face, especially when you’re being tormented and in pleasure. He pondered on the possibility of that face making delicious expressions. In that case…
It might be better to keep you to himself. 
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In the moments that he doesn’t want to gruesomely kill randoms, he likes to watch people. He’s very attached (literally) to his camera and likes to document the small things in life. He would do this to victims he stalked. It makes the build-up to the climax so sweet when they were killed. He intensely set his eyes on you at first sight, making him double-take at your beauty as you crossed the street. You were a knockout. 
As he had his goons follow your every move, they noticed that you were a heavy sleeper. This was great news for Jesse, as he decided to take a closer look. You were knocked out, sleeping soundly in your messy bedroom. Jesse took his shoes off, as his heeled boots could make noise. He did not want to mess up this glorious opportunity. He tiptoed gracefully around everything to get close to you. 
He leaned over, looking at your angelic face. As he appreciated the view, he made sure to record the whole thing, excited to review the footage whenever he felt lonely. Although, he would never admit that. He wanted you to be his little piggy princess.
 But… he had to wait. It wouldn't be fun if he indulged now. 
He continued to gaze upon your sleeping face, excited when you started going through REM. Your eyes shifted quickly under your eyelids and your mouth started to slightly open. His eyes dart to them immediately. It was a moment before you whimpered, eyebrows cutely scrunching throughout your dream. Random body parts would jump and faintly spasm, enthralling Chromeskull each time. It was obvious that you had sleep paralysis. The fight in your body made him excited. Would you act the same under his control, if he tied you up or held you down?
It seemed like the fight was beginning to end. Your limbs were successfully fighting off the paralysis one by one. He took the final opportunity to enjoy a full-body view of you writhing underneath the covers. He knew you were going to wake up soon. He dips silently, walking out the door as you wake up disoriented.
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Billy loved to watch. Anything. He was a voyeur. Intimate moments were the forefront of their entertainment. Watching people shower, expel their waste, shave, cry, and masturbate were some of his favorites. It was his own reality tv show. But, the one habit he adored watching was people sleeping.
When Billy watched you sleep, it inspired his imagination to go wild. The thought of doing something to you, even around you, without you knowing made him feral. To imagine and know he could do whatever he wanted was so appetizing. It could be as innocent as caressing your soft hands. Or as devilish as wiping his cock lightly across your face.
The latter weighed heavily on his mind as he leered at you sleeping. You slept haphazardly but that did not hide the curve of your body. As you shift, he drooled at the way you twisted and moved under the covers. He wants to rip them off to see how you truly look. 
Any sounds you made, Billy mentally took note to mimic. But not only that, your whimpers and odd sounds excited him. He wondered what sounds you would make if he pleasured your unconscious body. How he would love to see your face as he did so, imagining your blissed expression in glee. It was his favorite to watch if you had a particularly wild dream or nightmare, to see you toss and turn turned him on further. 
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The voyuer that he was loved watching you sleep. He wished he’d forced his parent to buy him a camera. It would have been a favorite pastime  to take photos of your sleeping face. It would provide him ample jerk off material when he couldn’t observe you. Thankfully,  he had plenty fun of jerking off to you as you slept before him.
The curve and plumpness of your lips was a sight to behold. It was equally enthralling watching them slightly open as it was seeing you talk. It turned him on so, so much. His eyes would pop when the covers would hug your form nicely, showing off your luscious curves. In certain positions, your body would look downright divine, often sending him over the edge. 
The best parts would be when you tossed and turned to the point where the covers would start to fall off. The opportunity would give him a lovely view of whatever you had on (or not) to bed. If you were naked, he would go feral!
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psychotic-star-girl · 5 months
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Me when I see a mentally ill man that should have been locked up:
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issdisgrace · 5 months
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Slashers with a person who uses comedy to cope with stressful situations? Like cracking jokes when they literally just fell down the stairs or nearly just got mugged and makes a pun out of it. Specifically Asa or Jesse please I’m desperate for them. Please and thank you 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
SLASHERS WITH A S/O THAT USES HUMOR TO COPE
WARNINGS: None
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ASA
At first Asa was put off by the fact that you used humor to cope. But slowly over time it became a weird thing he loved about you. Also your way of coping rubbed off a little on him and on the rare occasion he will crack a joke or two about him being an orphan.
BO
Bo will forever give you the side eye when you use humor to cope. It doesn’t matter how long you are togeather. He will always think that you using humor to cope is weird. But his mindset is very why joke about when you can just not in-knowledge it and push it deep down inside.
JESSE
Jesse is very much of a toss up. At times he doesn’t care about the fact you use humor to cope. And can/will find your jokes about whatever situation funny. But then other times he is worried that you use humor to cope because it isn’t a all to health coping mechanism. And will ask you if your alright or to stop.
LESTER
Lester doesn’t mind that you use humor to cope. In fact Lester is right there with you using humor to cope. Lester really started using humor to cope when he realized that his parents hitting him and his brother was not normal. It helped him a lot to deal with the abuse and it still does to this day.
MICHAEL
Michael quite literally doesn’t pay any attention to the fact you use humor to cope. He met a couple of people when he was in the Smith’s Grove that used humor to cope with the fact they were in the sanitarium.
OTIS
Otis is no stranger to using humor to cope with things. When he was a child that was how he coped with a lot of things. But then as he got older he started using torturing and killing people as a way to cope with things. So he doesn’t mind at all about the fact you use humor to cope with things.
PATRICK
Patrick doesn’t notice at all. He is in his own little world. He probably won’t even catch on to you using humor to cope unless someone directly says something about. And even then he kinda just shrugs it off and is like eh everyone copes differently.
THOMAS
This poor baby doesn’t understand at all. He has never been exposed to people using humor cope with stressful/difficult situations. So he is really really concerned for you. He sits you down is like why are you joking about this, this isn’t funny. You need to stop.
VINCENT
Vincent doesn’t bat an eye at you using humor to cope at first. But then you continuously use humor to cope with stressful and/or difficult situations. And he becomes concerned to the point he sits you down is like please stop baby it’s not healthy way to deal with your emotions all the time.
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the-faceless-bride · 6 months
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Pretty piggy in a cage...
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Summary➡ Being Asa's newest and precious little butterfly, he feels the need to show his good friend Jesse... Only things quickly backfire as Jesse takes interest in his friend's little piggy...
Tags: @gothmothsiren @frostbitefae @wallywaffle @brwnicons
Warnings: Dark Content, sexual implications, Objectification, infantilization, marking, forced touching, forced kissing, body horror, some violence to reader, kidnapping, name calling, mentions of cannibalism, attempts of escape, Starvation, reader is described as having long hair at least shoulder length
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You put yourself in his box. You had nothing left, nothing but the money you had saved, the clothes on your back, and those sweet eyes the strange Masked man seemed to enjoy so much.
You have never seen his face, and you honestly didn't care. All you knew was when he saw you he held your face in such a gentle manner, his gloved hand was gentle and held you softer than anyone ever had. His blacked-out eyes just stared into yours with such an enamored and curious look like you were the only thing in this world he wanted.
So when he picked you up and tried to lower you into the red box you didn't struggle, you tucked yourself into the box curling into yourself as much as you could to fit as comfortably as you could.
He seemed to enjoy that, he patted your head before stroking down to your cheek before slowly closing the box.
And once the box reopened, he held your shoulder moving you around the broken-down building that looked like it used to be a hotel.
The art around the building was... Interesting, the more you looked at it the more the stranger rubbed your shoulder. And once he lead you through a hall full of pounding locked doors, yelling, and people in cages the stranger held you to his chest.
He brought you into a bathroom and sat you on the plush pink stool. He picked up a soft-bristled brush and carefully brushed your hair, you sat there for a long time before he stopped and moved to open a wooden box painted with butterflies and lined with gems, pulling out pink and blue ribbons, sectioning your hair before trying the ribbons, looking at you in the mirror before reaching back into the wooden box and pulling out a gloss; squishing your cheeks making your lips pucker before smearing the glittery pink gloss across your lips.
He admired you for a moment before pulling a knife from a holder on his waist and using it to slice down your clothes, your shirt was first; he pulled the shirt off your shoulders from your front your best exposed to the cold air, you closed your eyes feeling the strangers gloved hands felt below your chest and felt around your ribs before moving to your hips and ripping your pants.
The strange man put you in a soft white dress, it fell to your knees in layers, a silk ribbon in the middle of your chest, soft long puffed sleeves felt smooth along your arms.
You hang your head as he presses what you think is a kiss you the side of your temple, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back and leading you through the building, he had to guide you around to not step in a trap or get glass stuck in your bare foot.
He picked you up, carrying you up the long flights of stairs before opening a heavily bolted metal door that had hanging flowers around the door; some were dead, and others seemed fake.
Upon entering the room, a large bed covered in ruffled sheets and fluffy pillows, a sheer curtain of some kind hung around the tall wooden frames around the bed. A pink fluffy carpet was placed on the oddly clean floor, the vanity mirror had a single crack running through it, and the large dresser doors were open exposing the hanging frilly dresses similar to the one you were currently wearing.
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You're his butterfly; the pretty little thing he likes to observe and touches with such soft hands, showed off to the others who could only wish not to be in chains like you, to be able to wander around, to be able to speak without being beaten.
One day he seemed extra touchy with you, he put in extra effort to make you look the way he wanted perfect you didn't know what you had done to deserve the extra treatment but it was better than what anyone else was getting in this depressing hotel.
He braided your hair; intricately placing flowers in it, he put you in a bodysuit made of silk that showed more of your chest, around your waist he tied a wispy skirt that reached the floor; it was slightly sheer and also had flowers embroidered giving it a very whimsical look, finally, he actually put you in shoes; they seemed like warn down ballerina shoes, elegant and gold the flowers were delicate.
After giving you one last look before running a hand down your neck moving in close and pressing his masked nose to your hair taking a long breath.
He placed you back in your room, sitting you down on the fluffy rug and making a 'stay' motion before leaving the room; you didn't know how long he was gone for, but when he came back he wasn't alone...
A man walked in with him, he was tall very tall...strong and wore a sharp black suit, and a chrome skull mask.
The chrome stranger looked to the man who kept you in this room, getting a single nod from your kidnapper and he started moving towards you; you whimpered and slightly moved back, but when the black-masked man hushed you and the chrome stranger reached out to you, his hand ghosting over your braided hair moving to brush a finger under your eyelids and moving to your neck giving a small squeeze before continuing his journey, gloved hand moving down your chest across your stomach to your legs squeezing your inner thigh.
He was inspecting you...
He caught you by surprise when he lifted his finger to your nose and gave it a little flick before teasingly pitching your cheek.
What a pretty little piggy. What a Fine Catch Asa Found; Jesse thought. Looking up at him with those sweet pretty eyes of yours. Almost tempted to think of you as less of a piggy and more of a doe... A sweet fawn. Jesse stopped squeezing your cheek and moved behind you leaning to push his mask against your soft hair. What a sweet thing.
Asa and Jesse both take one of your hands and take you out into a separate area you've never been to before. The room had two comfy-looking chairs, plane walls, and a small fluffy 'rug' just to the right of one of the chairs, the room also had something you found interesting. It had camera monitors, and you really wish you could just look away.
The horrors of what you saw.
You knew to some degree that there were poor souls in this place and that something terrible was happening to them. But you couldn't imagine what was on the screens. Rows and rows of people that... Weren't even people anymore... Monsters. Real-life horror movie monsters. Body's mutilated some with multiple limbs, some blind, some with jaws broken and modified to be long and odd-shaped, some of them seemed to be in a room with other monsters and they were... Eating each other.. God. What is this place? Why? Why was this something that never crossed your mind before.? Was... Was this going to happen to you?... Was this his plan? Will this happen to you when he gets bored of you?!
You slowly sat on the small rug where you were told, your eyes never leaving the monsters on the screen.
The two masked men were signing at each other, communicating about something. You couldn't understand them, but you truly couldn't care.
And you felt an itch. An itch to run. An itch to get away. Not wanting to be the next monster...
You would've been fine... You could've ignored the itch... If it wasn't for that one moment. Where one of the monsters that was cannibalizing the other turned. And look right into the camera.... Right.
At.
You.
And you ran. And you seemed to catch both men off guard. As they had yet to catch you.
That monster... That thing...
The blood fell from its odd crooked mouth. It's red bloodshot eyes staring at you.
And it only got worse.
Along the walls of the hotel, bodies ripped open. Displayed like art. No. No. No. Please. You don't want this. You just wanted to be taken away from the mean world. And now you were stuck in an even crueler one.
Loud footsteps could be heard down the halls, you look and your eyes meet the ones of the masked man. The one who took you... The Master...
You started hyperventilating as you tripped over your own feet. One of your feet getting locked in a trap. You let out a yelp of pain. Almost sounding like a kicked puppy, as you fell to the hard cold ground.
You try and yank your foot out, but that only makes the trap worse. Making you cry out. The skull masked on being the tallest and taking the longest strides gets to you first. Shaking his head and wagging his finger at you in a moving way, before giving you a little tap, bad.
You shink in on yourself. "please. Don't let the monsters get me. Don't let me be one of them..." You whimper into his shoulder. he brushes your hair from your face. And uses his loose hand to unlock the trap.
Asa truly was a lucky man. A lucky man indeed... He wouldn't mind if he... Borrowed you... For a while would he? Of course not. What else are friends for? Right?
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k1swass · 4 months
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Sorry……..
but it's literally me.
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Slasher NSFW headcanons
Requested: No
Characters: Asa Emory, Bo Sinclair, Jesse Cromeans
Warnings: NSFW, Dub-Con
Asa Emory
Favorite Nicknames to call you:
Bug
Junebug
Butterfly
Pet
Favorite Sex Position:
Butterfly
Something a little simple with a twist. Your legs over his shoulders gives him a perfect vantage point to fuck into you just the way he likes. Gripping your thighs and ass, digging his nails into your flesh so hard that it feels like he’ll break the skin. Sometimes he does, and he laves over the cuts with his tongue later.
On his lap
Asa likes the power of having you in his lap, facing him so he can see the mess he makes of you as he moves you up and down on his cock. Likes giving you the illusion of power at first, letting you think you can take the lead, move your own pace, only to rip the rug out from under you as he takes hold of your hips so he can brutalize your insides the way he always enjoys.
Prone
The prone position is a nice one to Asa, the angle allowing him to fuck you with an extra tight squeeze around himself. Might not be so pleasurable for you though if he feels like you’re too squirmy, as he’ll shove your face into a pillow to get you to stay still, not caring if you’re having a difficult time breathing as he fucks into you for his pleasure only.
Kinks:
Voyeurism
There’s something about watching someone else play with what’s his that just gets to Asa. Something about watching their fingers touch you, their mouth, licking you, watching them indulge in your body as you cry from pleasure, writhing beneath their body, your one night stand (and maybe you as well) oblivious to his presence as he strokes his cock to the sight of you both.
Blood Play
Everything about blood arouses Asa. The smell, the feel, the taste. The metallic zing of it sends a shiver down his spine as he licks at the cuts he made all over you, more than a few of them sure to scar, and he’d run his tongue over those pretty marks just as eagerly as if they still dropped the beautiful red liquid. That sign of life and pain that never failed to make his cock hard and his balls ache with need.
Somnophilia
I’ve already talked about Asa liking you pliant and easy to control, and the best way to do that is with you asleep. The ease at which he can slip into you, the softer noises that leave your mouth, the slow movements he makes so as not to wake you. God, it drives him up a wall and sometimes he can’t resist waking you up by forcing himself in a little too soon just to hear you wake up with a scream and feel you tighten up around him.
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Bo Sinclair
Favorite Nicknames to call you:
Darlin
Honey
Baby
Sweetheart
Favorite Sex Positions:
Missionary
I think this might be a bit of an unpopular opinion because it’s seen as a very vanilla position but I think that that’s what makes it so appealing to Bo. Something so soft and domestic seeming turned into an act of depravity, spitting on your face as he rams you so hard on his cock that it feels like you’ll break apart.
Doggy
Feel like people will agree with me more on this one. Bo loves taking you from behind, choking you with one hand as the other smacks your thighs and ass, maybe your belly and sides if he’s feeling a bit cruel or just having a bad day. Says you’re acting like a bitch in heat so he’s gonna fuck you like one.
Tabletop
Bo LOVES to fuck you on top of furniture. Pretty much every surface of the house has been sullied by both of your fluids. But his favorite place has to be on the tabletop, your legs around his waist with food burning on the stove, but you can’t even bring yourself to care when he’s pounding away in your hole, gripping his cock like a vice as he growls above you. The ruined food is so worth the price to him.
Favorite Kinks:
Bondage
Something something venting his trauma through sex something something. Watching him tape down that girl was hot. Anyways, Bo loves to have his partner tied down. Completely at his will. What are you going to do if he does something you don’t like? Run away? He’ll spit on your face and just grin when you call him nasty.
Degradation
Praise with Bo is something to be earned, something fought for. Insults however? Oh, those come free of charge. Especially during sex. You’ll lose count of the number of times he’s called you a dumb whore or said you’re no use to anyone but being a tight hole to fuck. Probably can’t even hear it with how hard and deep he’s fucking you.
Oral (Receiving)
Something that requires little to no effort on his part and gives him all the pleasure? You can bet your bottom dollar that Bo’s a real fan. Any relationship with him will probably be about 75% giving him head, and he likes it that way. Likes having you waiting at the door for him on your knees with your mouth already open. Loves you looking up at him with those teary eyes when he chokes you on his dick.
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Jesse Cromeans
Favorite Nicknames to call you:
Love
Dear
Pet
Mi Corazon
Favorite Sex Position:
Mating Press
Hmmmm, making press….Jesse likes the closeness of it but not for the reason of intimacy. No, he likes it because being so close to you gives him the perfection view of your tears, the white of your eyes turned red, the back of your throat all swollen and sore from when he had fucked it earlier. And it’s such easy access to you, he loves it.
Face down ass up
A simple but good position, and it encourages his breeding kink. He’ll make you hold your hips up long after he’s done using you and make you tell him how much you want his baby, whether you have the parts for it or not. Maybe plug you up (with a plug that has a curly pig tail attached, I refuse to apologize for my sins)
Spooning
This feels like a more intimate choice for Jesse but I really feel like he enjoys that. In particular, he enjoys the forced intimacy. Slowing his pace, breathing heavy at the back of your neck, fingers sliding sweetly down your sides. He’s only like this when he’s tired or very early in the morning, and only if you’re someone he at least likes.
Favorite Kinks:
Knife Play
Feel like it’s pretty obvious for his character. The knives he uses won’t be play knives, never dulled. In fact they’re the exact knives that he kills with. The same steel that cuts through throats and faces runs along your side, down your chest, leaving just the faintest scratches that he aches to run his tongue over and dig into your flesh just to taste it better.
Breeding Kink
I couldn’t tell you what exactly screams breeding kink about this man….but something is screaming it. He cums in you unprotected and just holds himself inside you, rubs your belly harshly and thinks about it swelling. Doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. Just know that it’s almost always on his mind when he fucks you (internally jokes about breeding you like a prized piggy)
Oral (Giving)
(That one scene in the second movie does unspeakable things to me) Yeah, Jesse really likes to use his tongue. To kiss you and to lick you. Buries his tongue as far into you as it’ll go, licks all along your body sometimes just because of how much he enjoys the feel of using his tongue on you til you’re soaked in his spit.
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evilvvithin · 28 days
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LAID TO REST robert hall, 2009
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ladykitsunex · 8 months
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Can you blame me though
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mixreality · 1 year
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me when...
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frracturedjaw · 1 year
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Good day/night, author!
I love the details you put in your writing, those tiny details make me foldd
I wanted to request something cause I love your writing, and I wanted to see how you'd write this prompt <3
Slashers with a fem! s/o who sends them suggestive pictures of themselves (referring to the s/o). Could be sliding polaroids under their door/ leaving polaroids for them to see, sending them virtually, etc etc.
Thank you! Have a wonderful day/night, and Happy Holidays!
warnings(s): 🍋, description of s.x acts, reference to female anatomy, blood (only with asa)
a/n: thank god, finally an excuse to be thirsty,, also tysm for the very kind words!! it means a lot to hear from yall :) some of these go further than others, so just drop an ask if you want any of them expanded on.
🔞i check the notes. minors don’t read & don’t interact.
thomas hewitt
* it’s risky business trying to get him the photos without somebody else getting to them first, so you stick them right in the pocket of his apron.
* almost the whole day goes by without so much as a glance from him. he doesn’t check his pockets until the day’s work is finished. but when he does…
* he almost shouts. it catches him entirely off guard. not that he hasn’t thought of you that way, but… taking stuff out of the bedroom is new to him. he’s checking over his shoulders even though nobody really comes into the basement but him.
* he likes it though. he’s a possessive guy. hoyt is always giving him shit, saying he’ll give you what Tommy’s too frigid to provide. this makes his chest thunder.
* you can tell he’s checked the pocket when he next enters the room. his eyes are dark from how huge his pupils have gotten.
* “like them?” you ask allusively, a grin tugging at your features. if you listen close, you can hear the click of the door locking before he’s upon you.
* despite his size, he works smoothly. you’ve reassured him enough by now that he’s confident around you. especially when you’ve shown him vulnerability like that, he can certainly return the favor.
* his shirt and belt go on the floor, and your fingers slide across his scalp when he lays forward between your legs.
* it’s become sort of a ritual for the both of you. he undresses both of you, but you get to take off the mask.
* even in the dimness of the room, you can imagine his blush easily. his cheeks are radiant with heat.
* although he’s usually all about taking his sweet time, this go around, he takes you like a starving man.
* he can’t even be bothered to take your clothes off all the way. two thick fingers, quickly dipped into his mouth, slip past your panties and right into your pussy. his other hand presses you down at the waist, steadying your body against his.
* his hand is large and calloused and scarred, but it works so deftly on your body. in any other case he’d feel guilty for being so greedy, but he needs you too badly right now.
* one heavy hand on your breast, he sucks dark, tender marks into your inner thigh while the pads of his fingers skim teasingly against that one spot that makes your legs go rigid.
* he does that until you’re half sobbing, chest bouncing with each choked breath. he doesn’t tease you like this often, either — he prefers indulging you — but the way you sound crying his name makes him hard as steel.
* “tommy… Tommy, please…” it’s only him that makes you breathy and rushed like this, and he knows it. he relishes in it.
* but he doesn’t keep you waiting forever, don’t worry.
brahms heelshire
* bold of you to assume he doesn’t already have a collection of pictures of you in his attic hideout.
* he might have shown you a few before, just to tease you. there’s a few of you getting dressed/undressed, one or two of you asleep without a top on, and a particularly blurry one that appears to be you with your hand between your legs…
* but he’s absolutely not complaining that you’re contributing. he’s overjoyed, in fact. he takes a particular interest in perverted stuff like this
* he doesn’t spend a ton of time up in the attic since you got together with him, but when he pops up to get something, he notices the addition almost immediately (living in one room for over a decade will do that to you).
* it’s taken in the master bathroom, one of the only rooms he doesn’t have much surveillance on. the tiled walls make it nearly impossible to poke a hole in without taking chunks out that get noticed and repaired immediately.
* he can see a big claw foot tub and a nice wide sink, and one wall with a floor length mirror nearly the size of a door.
* most importantly, is you. naked as dawn, with one leg stretched up on the mirror, and one hand between your legs, revealing your perfect cunt.
* of course, he pulls his dick out immediately. he doesn’t even bother shutting the door to the attic room. just drops to his knees and starts stroking.
* brahms is breathing hard under the mask, barely blinking as he gazes at your glistening pussy and slides one hand up and down his cock, thrusting into his fist.
* he’s loud, too. by the time he’s finished, no matter where you are in the manor, you definitely know. you can’t help but admit, you’re starting to get the appeal in listening to someone else moan your name.
* you’d better get up to the bedroom, though, since he’s ready for a round two with the real thing now.
billy lenz
* similar deal as above, he’s already got some of his own. his selection is much more lewd, though. he’s a little more dedicated to seeing your private moments than Brahms.
* and he’s definitely whipped them out for you, before, too, so you know where he keeps them.
* you’d set the camera on a timer and gotten to work with your favorite toy. in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to choose a favorite, so you picked a few.
* the first is from behind, and shows the perfect ‘pretty stretch’ he always talks so much about.
* the next is up closer, two of your fingers stringing a trail of lube away from your pussy; you’re confident he’ll like this one.
* the last is of your face, and probably your favorite. tears are hanging from your eyelashes and glittering in the flash, the toy pressed firmly into your mouth. drool dribbles from the corner of your lips and slides deliciously down your chest. you’ve written ‘piggy’ and a heart on the edge of the photo in pink pen.
* the pictures stand out, piled in a neat stack on top of the messy stash in his drawer.
* (there’s also a suspiciously stained pair of your panties in the drawer. you’d been looking for them for ages. you take them back and drop them in the laundry.)
* and just like brahms, you know the moment he finds them. although, he doesn’t bother to even try taking care of his erection by himself. he goes right to you.
* “i’msofuckin’LOVEYOU, sweet-t-t pigGY! sosweetsogoodfor billy, billy l-lovesyouSOmuch, good-d girl, soOOO fuckin’goodforbilly—” his mouth is going a mile a minute up until you kiss him. he can’t help but giggle into it, hands all over you, grabbing, squeezing, pinching. he doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s grinding his dick against your hip.
* “—mh, please, pl-l-lease,” he breaks away from you, gripping your arms hard and blushing even harder.
* “use your words, billy.” you smirk, pressing against him. you can feel him throbbing.
* “nngh,” he whines, but does so anyways. “s-suckmeOFF! ple-ease, please…” he can hardly get the words out, he’s so excited. he throws his head back, giggling, only to smash his mouth against yours again.
* you have to pull his fly down and grip his dick hard to get him to pull away again. his speech devolves into mindless whining and giggling as you drop to your knees.
* he’s not awfully thick, but he is long. it takes a good minute of him thrusting into your throat and you jerking away from him, gagging, before you can get him all the way down.
* you know exactly which buttons to press — he doesn’t waste time making you guess.
* he likes it when you press your nose against his belly and swallow, feeling your throat constrict around him.
* he likes it when you maintain eye contact and flutter your eyelashes at him when he says something you like.
* he especially likes it when you drop your tits out and squeeze them. so much so, in fact, that he finishes down your throat without warning.
* it sends you coughing, but he holds you down until he’s finished, keening and chattering praise in your name.
* when you finally lean back, you’re a mess. you’re teary-eyed, chin and neck coated in slobber.
* he’s still twitching and pulsing even though he’s already gone soft.
* better clean up before he gets any more ideas…
billy loomis + stu macher
* they’ve both had wet dreams about this kind of thing. they’ve probably floated the idea to you once or twice and received coy-but-promising responses.
* they both have phones, but they’re both also suckers for physical media; see also their extensive vhs and disk collections.
* Billy finds them first, and immediately drags stu into the bedroom to look.
* stu’s giggling like a schoolgirl as if you didn’t take them yourself. he sobers up when billy points out that you’ve written their initials on your inner thighs in what seems to be sharpie.
* depending on if you’re home or not, they might just jerk off then and there. they’re impatient like that.
* if you are home, however, they slide up next to you on the couch with these shit-eating grins on their faces.
* “didn’t know you had a side gig doing mags.” billy teases.
* “now i can tell everyone i’m dating a pornstar.” stu snickers.
* “except tatum.” you remind him, which only makes him laugh more.
* “c’mon, sweet cheeks,” billy leans you over into stu’s lap, skimming his fingers under your shirt. “give us a private dance.”
asa emory
* the camera had been a gift from him. you can’t be sure if he bought it or stole it off a body, but you’re grateful nonetheless. (who knows what would happen if you weren’t)
* usually you only take photos of things around the hotel. his exhibits, interesting bugs you found crawling around, maybe a shot or two of the sky through a window. he always takes the pictures away. you’re confident he keeps them all somewhere. a small part of you hopes the somewhere is his home.
* at one point — after a particularly long night with your fingers inside yourself, wishing they were his — you decide to take photos of something else. the lighting is dismal and you don’t have anything terribly flattering to wear, but you make it work.
* you’re rather pleased with what you end up with. some five or so photos of you on your knees, eyes wide and doe-like, gazing up as if looking to a master.
* you decide to leave them out for him to find.
* when you next hear the door unbolt, your heart leaps into your chest. you hold statue-still as he locks it behind him, glances around the room, sees the photos. you see something in his expression change as he leafs through them. it’s impossible to read his expression with the mask on, but you’d like to imagine it’s admiration. maybe disgust. maybe want. maybe all of it.
* he sets the photos down where he found them and crosses the room towards you. he’s entirely unhurried. doubt writhes in your gut. your eyes dart to his belt, the knife hooked into it.
* you twitch when he grips your jaw and tilts your head back to look at the ceiling, but don’t flinch away.
* he leans close. you don’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t ever get this close. you’re sure he can hear your blood thumping in your veins. heat and pressure rise in your skull.
* he breathes in deeply. his lips part. his teeth scrape lightly against the skin of your jugular — you didn’t think he would be able to, with the mask on — then press in. his jaw eases down on the soft flesh of your throat slowly, all the way until you feel his teeth grind against something solid. you think you might be suffocating. you think he might break your trachea.
* a strangled cry slips out of you. you tense even tighter, ready for him to do it.
* instead, he releases with a self-satisfied hum. it might be closer to a growl. you aren’t sure, being preoccupied with the blood rising in the little ring of indentations where his teeth split your skin.
* it stings when he sucks the blood from the wound, but the pain startles you less than his body appearing atop yours. he’s gripping your arms hard like you might try to run. instead, you find yourself clinging to him, legs hooking around his hips; which earns you a chuckle that sounds nearly genuine.
* he’s coaxing out weak sobs and tears for so long, you begin to wonder if he intends to do anything else. slowly, though, he’s bunching up your clothes and peeling away layers. he alternates between biting and lavishing attention on your skin, splitting and bruising the skin with his incisors before smoothing his cool hands across each plane and curve of your body to disperse the sharp pain.
* when he reaches for your panties, your fear spikes again. the sensation of his teeth skimming over the tender flesh of your inner thighs makes you tense up. the reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.
* he curls his arms around your thighs, not breaking eye contact. you inhale sharply when he captures your clit between his teeth. he hasn’t even bitten down, and yet your body’s already prickling in expectation.
* then his tongue slithers out. it takes every ounce of your self control not to lock your legs around his head. you can feel the hot, wet muscle pressing against your hole. your insides burn with lust as he pushes it inside you, tasting you. it drags inside you, writhing and contorting deliciously.
* each reaction earns you an approving hum. to you, it’s praise. to him, it’s positive reinforcement. habit building. another exercise to shape you.
* he wouldn’t admit it, but he craves you the same way. his love is grotesque and cruel, but something about him enjoys pleasuring you, too.
jesse cromeans
* cute, that you think he doesn’t already have his own series of homemade pornos featuring you and him.
* he’d never refuse submissions, though. he has a secret fondness for watching the security footage of his penthouse from when you’re alone in the bedroom, anyways.
* you’ll have left them on his pillow, the glove box in his car, maybe even at his work desk. you’re not worried about anyone else seeing them, since if they did, they’d have a day to live, maybe two, tops.
* he’ll tuck them into his wallet for later and go about his business, maybe send you a sly text, something along the lines of what you should be wearing when he gets home.
* you’re checking your hair and kicking your legs when his car pulls in. you’re up against the window, waving and looking down at him as he gets out. when he looks up at you, you receive only a signed ‘naughty’ in greeting.
* he takes his time at the front door, tucking his shoes into the closet and hanging his coat as if you’re not wearing his favorite pair of silvery-gray lingerie, kneeled right in front of him.
* “my knees are going to bruise at this rate, you know.” you admonish, and the look you receive could turn you to stone.
* “good.”
* “guess i’ve learned my lesson: never sending nudes to you again,” you say playfully. that’s all it takes for him to yank you off the ground and press you against the wall.
* you hook your legs around his hips on instinct and can immediately feel his hard cock through his slacks.
* it takes a moment for him to relocate his tie from his neck to your eyes, but it’s worth it when you hear the mask clatter to the floor.
* “is this a punishment, or a treat?” you wonder aloud, grinding yourself against his crotch as he slides off your panties. his teeth sink into your shoulder at the same moment his fingers find your clit. both, you decide.
bo sinclair
* he is definitely 100% a fan. he’s standing in your doorway grinning the moment he finds them.
* “these are something special, sweetpea.” he drawls, smirking at you. even though it was your idea in the first place, you can’t help but blush. there’s something about his complete and utter assuredness in himself right now that makes you feel especially small.
* “i can’t help but want to recreate a few of these.” of course he’s going to rail you then and there. what else could the photos be but an invitation?
* hardly even takes the time to get your clothes off. there’ll be plenty of time for that later. just tugs your pants down off your hips and spits between your legs, sliding his fingers through your folds only once or twice before pulling down his fly and pressing his cock against you.
* you must have a dumb look on your face — you hadn’t even realized your mouth is open — because he feels the need to pause and lave his thumb across your tongue. “hungry for somethin’?” you can muster only a graceless ‘uh-huh,’ the weeping head of his cock still pulsing against you.
* “good.” then there’s that stretch. every single time, you have a moment where it feels like he won’t fit. you can feel exactly how tight you are around him. every thick, winding vein along the length of him. you only come back to yourself upon feeling his body press flush against yours.
* he fucks like an animal. his breath is ragged and hot across your skin, occasionally broken to bite and suck at your breasts. your ass and thighs have already gone numb from his skin clapping against yours. you can only press your forehead against him and scream for him.
* oh, he’s keeping the photos, too. he’ll even ask for more. he’s sticking them up around the garage, his room, the rear view of his truck. teases you if you complain about it.
vincent sinclair
* nearly creams his pants. i mean it.
* it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, but this is really something else. with pictures, he’s less embarrassed about staring. he doesn’t need to worry about accidentally making you uncomfortable.
* with vincent, you know he appreciates every detail. every curve and plane of your body, the way you’ve got one of his sweaters pulled up just far enough to reveal your slit. he’s nearly drooling.
* “hey,” you’re stepping languidly down the basement stairs — still in his sweater — catching him right as he finds them. he yanks down his shirt over his crotch as if it would hide anything
* you can’t help but grin at him and nudge his hands away so you can straddle his lap, stretching your arms past his shoulders and pushing your chest up to his face.
* he’s kind of frozen in shock, but it’s not hard to tell he’s losing his mind for you, either.
* eventually his eyes raise to meet yours and he tips back the mask to kiss you.
* “i like it when you wear that.”
og myers
* he’s perfectly aware of what you’re trying to do. he knows you want to get him worked up so he’ll fuck you to pieces. and being the person he is, he does the exact opposite.
* sticks the photos in the breast pocket of his coveralls and goes on his merry way.
* days pass. you wonder if he’s even found the photos you left.
* (in the meantime, you’re resisting the urge to touch yourself by just thiiis much. it’s torturous. you’re not sure you want to wait for him to make the first move, anymore.)
* you test the waters by finding reasons to get into his personal space. first it’s just your hand against his. then, you’re up against his shoulder. eventually, you’re perched up on his lap and he’s barely acknowledged that you’re even here.
* “michael,” you hum, face hidden against his neck. he only grunts in response.
* you can’t help but suspect he’s doing this on purpose.
* “i missed you today.” grunt.
* “i’ve been thinking about you.” hmm.
* “michael, i want you.” mhm.
* finally, you flatten your hands against his cheeks and force him to meet your eyes.
* “mikey,” you whine. you don’t mind begging, but this is just excessive. “please, fuck me.”
* silence. you’re about to give up and stomp out of the room to go find your hitachi wand or something when his hand shoots up to your throat.
* in one quick motion, he forces you underneath him on the bed.
* it’s his turn to tease, now.
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doomh3ad · 2 years
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reminder that you're sexy and cool and your fav character wants you so bad. they're literally simping over you rn. they write fanfic about you, it's 100% true they told me.
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