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kiss-theggoat · 3 months

Note

How would the Slashers react to Their s/o hasn’t been getting sleep and randomly passed out as they were doing something 🤔

Slashers Reacting to a Sleepy S/O

Slashers included: Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhees, Asa Emory, Thomas Hewitt

Michael Meyers:

You hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. Most nights, you stayed awake with a book or the TV on, sitting anxiously on your bed, waiting for him. Whenever Michael went out late or disappeared for a few days, you could barely even relax, let alone catch a few hours of sleep. This week was particularly stressful for you. Michael had been gone for three days now, no where to be found.

Finally, the morning of day four, you were startled out of your novel to a bloodied and mud covered Michael slamming your front door, shoulders hunched and jumpsuit absolutely coated in filth.

A few hours later, you were scrubbing blood off of Michael’s shoulder, his entire body submerged in the bath you’d ran for him. Now that he was home, and you knew he was safe…you felt your entire body become tired, eyelids feeling like concrete. The warm water and smell of the eucalyptus body wash was lulling you to sleep, and before you know it, you’d fallen asleep, head resting against the wall and hands still on Michael’s shoulders.

He was confused at first, but he knew that you were stressed when he was gone. He stood from the bath, feeling clean and comfortable, and saw you, passed out against the wall with soap still dripping from your hands. He grabbed a towel, first drying your hands and then wrapping it around his waist, finally scooping you up off of the stool you sat on.

He carried you to the bed, laying beside you as he set you down on your pile of pillows and blankets.

Jason Voorhees:

You’d been helping Jason all day, cleaning the cabin, picking up garbage from the lake, taking the wood he chopped back to the shed. It was hard labor, and you had to admit, it was tough to keep up with your early rising, hard working boyfriend.

Jason was busy chopping wood. He swung the axe with ease, slicing through the wood like it was a hot knife through butter. The pile was stacking up, and his little helper hadn’t come to collect anything in a while. He set his axe down, scanning the trees for you. Nothing.

He began to walk down towards the cabin, where he hoped you were. It was hot today, sweat dripped down his neck as he walked. Finally, he made it to the cabin but still…no sign of you. He tilted his head, genuinely confused as to where you were.

But as he looked towards the shed, and there you were. Your skin was glistening, cheeks pink and head resting against the door of the shed. His chest swelled with warmth. You looked beautiful, and as he got closer, he saw that you’d fallen asleep.

He decided that even though there was plenty more work to be done, this was the perfect time to join you for a break. He plopped down beside you, resting his aching back against the shed. He leaned against your side, and when you rested your head on his shoulder, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to get up again.

Asa Emory:

Asa had been relentless lately. You two had just moved to a new city, and of course that meant it was time to start a new collection. He’d been keeping you up for days on end, rambling about his plans and showing you his drawings, collecting new species and documenting them in his journal, all with the lights on.

Usually you welcomed Asa’s rants and rambles but after the move, getting a new job, and taking care of your new puppy, you were absolutely exhausted.

Now, you were seated besides Asa at his desk. He was telling you about something or other about how he wanted to do a collection about something or something…you couldn’t do it anymore. You closed your eyes. You thought to yourself, I’ll just rest my eyes for a moment…

Asa’s head whipped around as he noticed yours fall to hit the desk, a tiny thud sounding as your forehead made contact with the wood. He stared at you for a moment, but knew that his project was important. He leaned back in his chair to grab a small throw blanket off of your shared bed.

He wrapped it around your shoulders, rubbing your back gently as he picked his pencil back up, continuing his detailed sketch.

Thomas Hewitt:

The humidity was killing you. Sweat was beading on your skin and rolling down your forehead, it felt like you might be suffocating down in Thomas’ basement. The smell was off putting, but you’d gotten used to it at this point.

He was sewing, and you couldn’t really focus on what he was making without feeling a tiny bit nauseous, but to be honest, even without looking, you were nauseous. You were overly tired, hot, sweaty, and had been trapped down in the basement for hours. Without warning, you stood up quickly, holding your stomach and taking a breath. “Tommy, I gotta go upstairs and lay down.”

He stared at you, a little bit concerned, but he knew you didn’t really like it down here. He gave you a nod and went back to his project. You quickly began to walk up the stairs, excited to finally lay down in your own bed that didn’t smell like rotting meat. The moment the door opened, you felt better, fresh air hitting your skin.

Your body felt fatigued, and you sat down on the top step, taking a deep breath. When the nausea faded, you were overtaken by the sleepiness, eyes sliding shut. Thomas didn’t hear the door shut, and he knew you would’ve if you’d left the basement. He stood, walking towards the stairs and seeing you…asleep on the top two steps, head leaning against the wall.

He let out a little laugh, walking up the stairs while wiping his hands off on the apron he wore. He slid one hand beneath your knees and one around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. He couldn’t stop smiling as he carried you towards your room.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #michael meyers #jason voorhees x you #jason voorhes x reader #asa emory #asa emory x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you

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lace-coffin · 4 months

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hello! Could you do something about Asa after he spends like, a good your looking for his newest member of the collection, and when he finds them, their just, surrounded by diff bugs?

Theres like, crickets in their hair, moths and butterfly all over their arms a few spiders crawling around their legs and their holding a praying mantis in their hands and staring at in awe. Their also babying talking it and cooing at it, when they look up and realize Asa is staring at them, they raise their cupped hands a show him the giant mantis resting their, saying with a cherry yet soft voice and smile "I named her Apple!"

I would appreciate it very much if you wrote something about this :)

But you don't have to, for any reason really.

Have a lovely night/day! Be sure to drink water and eat 💕

How would Asa Emory react to finding his new pet coddling his bugs?

Asa Emory/gn!Reader

Tw for bugs and power dynamics

Requests are open!

Asa moved through the halls of the hotel with efficiency, he knew them like the back of his hand, however that apparently wasn’t helping since he’d managed to...misplace his new pet.

You were supposed to be in your room, you were lucky you had even been granted the luxury of not just being crumpled into one of the boxes, but here Asa is, speeding down the halls and jumping/swerving around his traps like some kind of sick ballet in order to find you. You absolutely won’t be getting out of this without some serious punishment.

Asa curses at himself under his breath for making his place of operations so huge, it seemed like a good idea when he set up here and it was but damn if it wasn’t his Achilles heel in this situation.

Fifteen minutes of searching later his heart is picking up in an unfamiliar way, usually he’s not one to care about others or a stray victim but something in him can’t help but worry about loosing his newest subject already. Whether it’s because he cares for you or because he hates not being in control is anyone’s guess. (He’s soft for you and won’t admit it)

Finally as he’s cracking open a door at the end of the hallway he hears a sweet laugh echoing from further along. Bingo. You’re so dead when he finds you. As he’s about to slam the door open he realises this is infact where he keeps his enclosures for his specimens, he sighs and opts to open the door slowly and quietly as not to startle the bugs.

You don’t even notice Asa enter the room, currently too enthralled in cooing sweet words to the giant mantis in your hands.

Before Asa can demand to know where you’ve been and why, his breath hitches in his throat. There you are, sat on your knees next to the enclosure cases, covered from head to toe in his beloved bugs. The calm careful way you handle them and talk to them like they can understand tugs at his heart, his face softens at the sight, anger long forgotten and replaced by a feeling of fondness, the same one he felt when he was originally scouting you to join his collection.

The crickets cling to your stands of hair, a little messy since you had left your room before Asa got to around to brushing it but he’ll fix that later, sitting contently like they’d never been disturbed in the first place.

Moths and butterflies tap their tiny feet along your arms, fluttering their delicate wings, taking off and landing back with you when they please.

Asa takes in the scene breathlessly, if he hadn’t already been weak for you then he definitely is now. As he approaches by a few steps some thick hairy legs come into view, creeping slowly over your thighs and onto your lap. Tarantulas, two of them, using you as a lap cushion without a care in the world. You really are something special. In the back of his mind Asa makes another note to keep approaching slowly, despite you needing a punishment he’s not exactly wanting his eight legged pets to kick hairs at you in fright.

After a few minutes of blissfully observing one of the tarantulas unhurriedly totters off your leg and begins to move across the room. “Oh, where are you off to little guy? I need you over here with me, I’m already probably in big trouble with sir” you sigh. “I don’t want to loose you and make it worse, besides, I don’t think I could forgive myself if something happened to you under my watch”

In a strange way you suppose you understood Asa’s need to keep you under wraps right now, not wanting this beautiful specimen to disappear from your sight, much like Asa with you.

You swivel on your knees to coax the spider back into your palms, nudging its abdomen for encouragement and letting it waddle back into your hands. From your new position you catch a glimpse of heavy black boots in your peripheral. Oh.

You turn your attention fully to the man above you, heart racing at the idea of what’s about to come, however as you reach his eyes they aren’t filled with the rage or disappointment you were expecting. The black orbs are filled with softness, fondness, almost something sweet you can’t decipher.

Without thinking you present the giant mantis to Asa, still on your knees. “I named her apple!” A beat passes and an array of emotions flutter through Asa’s steely heart, his blank face still giving nothing away. After what feels like an eternity he crouches down in front of you, cupping his hands under your own, assisting in holding the mantis. “A fine name for her, pet. Do you know what species Apple is by chance?” He says in his firm but calm, leading voice, slipping into the tone he uses when teaching his lectures without even realising it.

“Uh-no, no I don’t sir…tell me?” You say, wincing a little at the stumble at the beginning, hoping asking him to tell you didn’t come off as rude or undermining his authority. Asa smiles, not letting anything on.

“She is a Giant Asian Mantis, or Hierodula membranacea, If you want to get technical. These are the most commonly kept mantis as house pets and come in an array of colours, but as you can see, apple is mostly light green. I think your name fits her nicely.” Asa explains matter of factly, hands still cupped under yours for Apple to totter onto.

“Woah” you say without thinking, watching Apple move to Asa’s palms and taking in the information. Asa exhales from his nose in a small chuckle. “Woah indeed, however I think it’s time we get you and Apple back to your respective rooms” Asa says with a quirked eyebrow, giving away that your not going to get away with this unpunished just because he finds you endearing.

Asa helps you round up the specimens and places them back in their individual tanks. After making sure you both wash your hands thoroughly he takes your now clean hand and walks you back to your room, letting you ask him more bug questions as you walk.

Despite how lovely this has been you’ll still be given a stern talking to once you return, Asa can’t bring himself to punish you for your little adventure and entomology lesson but isn’t one to let you off the hook without some kind of consequence, after all he expects your complete submission and obedience and won’t settle for any less. But for now that convocation can wait, and Asa can get you comfy on your knees infront of him, manoeuvring your head via the ring on your collar and finally working the comb through the snags in your hair with care.

I hope you enjoy this! Your rq was super fun to do and the idea was really cool! Thank you so much and feel free to send me more < 3

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collection #the collector #the collector x reader #writing #my writing

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dyns33 · 3 months

Text

Firefly

I can't explain why but I like The Collector movies a lot, Asa Emory was a weird character, and so I needed to write something about him at least once

Y/N had met Asa Emory in college.

He already had this strange look and this fascination for insects, which explained his choice of studies. She had never met anyone who wanted to become an entomologist.

The other students were a little afraid of him, when they noticed him, because Asa was very discreet.

Y/N had noticed him, and she hadn’t been afraid of him. She had sat next to him in the library while he read a book about spiders. Her questions had initially seemed to irritate him, he was obviously not used to being spoken to, then he had been intrigued.

For a time, Asa had looked at her as if she were one of the insects he collected, but also as if she were trying to make fun of him. Yet he answered all her questions, adding more and more details and information.

He had no one in his life. No one to share your passion with. He didn't tell her all the details, but he had lost his parents and siblings when he was young.

This loneliness didn't seem to be a problem for him, but over time he got used to Y/N's presence, he looked forward to her questions, and he eventually grew attached.

“My firefly.” He greeted her as soon as he saw her, with a shy smile.

“Why a firefly ?” she asked, laughing softly.

“Because you are a light in my life.”

Y/N might have taken offense saying that a firefly was a tiny, fragile light that would die quickly, but knowing Asa's love of insects, she knew he wasn't going to compare her to a sun or stars. It was even a nice compliment on his part that he deigned to compare her to a Lampyris noctiluca.

Even when insulting people, he never used insect names. That would be an insult to the insects and he couldn't do that.

As with everything else in their relationship, it was Y/N who invited him on their first date. He accepted without seeming to understand what that meant.

The poor man seemed lost when she kissed him. But not necessarily disgusted.

“My firefly, you are the only human being who matters.” he admitted when she asked him if he ever thought about marriage, after more than two years together. "There are only a few insects that practice monogamy, but most die quickly, sometimes during the act of reproduction. But you know how much I hate anthropomorphism. I will be happy to spend my life with you."

Life with Asa was calm. Perfectly organized, structured, like its classification of all arthropod species.

After obtaining his diploma, he had no difficulty in being hired in the largest natural science museum in the city. His name quickly became known in his field.

His frequent nighttime outings and other prolonged outings could have been frightening for Y/N, but he always warned her in advance, preparing his schedule according to the pace of life of the insects he was looking for.

"Rumors are circulating about an unknown species of grasshoppers in a forest. I will probably be gone all weekend."

"Oh. You won't be here for my cousin's birthday ?"

"I forgot. Forgive me, my firefly."

“It doesn’t matter… It’s for your work, it’s important.”

He promised to better note the dates that were important to her, because even though he was very diligent in his work, Asa was a good husband. He didn't care at all about other humans, and therefore her family, but he always tried to please her when he could.

Even though he had a true admiration for spiders, Y/N saw him more as an ant. He worked hard, he never seemed tired, and he often brought home gifts to make up for when he missed an appointment, or simply because he wanted to see her smile.

"Ants don't bring back gifts for the queen, they do this to feed the colony. Plus they work in groups, I work alone."

“I didn’t compare myself to a queen.”

"You could, it was you who worked to create our home. There is no colony without a queen, and there would not be our home without you."

Their house was perfect, but empty. They didn't talk about having children. The subject didn't seem to appeal to Asa. After all this time, he did not talk about his family, visibly traumatized by their disappearance, and his aversion to others, in addition to his complicated schedule, were not compatible with the role of father.

There were his dogs. Perfectly trained hunting dogs, who were only adorable with their master and his wife. But especially with Y/N, who loved to cuddle them.

“My firefly, they have already eaten and they are not allowed to be inside.”

"Oh, Asa, please ! It's cold outside, and they were very good !"

“You mustn’t get them used to it or they will become fat and lazy.”

“Only for tonight, please !”

His colleagues said he was tough. A cold, distant, almost mean man. It was quickly decided that he would no longer participate in school visits, because he did not know how to talk to children or teachers.

But with Y/N, he was gentle. He refused her nothing. The dogs stayed inside, and not just that evening.

The times Asa told her no, it wasn't his fault. The excuses he found always contained the words 'I would like to, but the museum, my colleagues, the insects…'.

No, she couldn't accompany him on his hunts. She wouldn't like it anyway. It was cold, there was almost no time to sleep, and she might be bored.

“I’ll be with you, that’s the most important thing.”

".. .It's always a joy to be with you. That's also why it's better if you don't come. Then I have a reason to come home."

And he always came home, tired, but satisfied with his work, placing a kiss on Y/N's forehead like a ritual, before caressing her cheek while looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, his eyes wide blacks seeming to devour her entirely.

Then came the night when he came home late, very late, with strange injuries and terribly angry. Growling like an animal, he slammed the door so hard that it woke his wife. She found him trying to stitch himself up, mumbling and shaking.

She had never seen him like this. Asa was always calm.

Hesitantly, Y/N asked him if he was okay, and when he looked at her, she was scared for the first time since they met. For a moment, he looked like he didn't recognize her, and was ready to jump on her. Then he took on the features of her husband.

"… My firefly." he sighed, getting up with difficulty to kiss her. "I woke you up. I scared you. Forgive me. There was an incident. I lost several very precious, unique species. But it's my fault, you don't have to suffer my bad mood."

“Shouldn’t you go to the hospital ?”

"It's okay, I promise. Scratches, nothing I can't fix myself. Go back to bed, I'll be with you right away."

Nothing forced her to obey. Y/N could have insisted, asked questions, called an ambulance, but she returned to the room, staring at the wall unable to sleep. She didn't move when Asa came to her, holding her close, his face against her neck, whispering that he loved her.

They talked about the incident in the neighboring town the next day on television. An abandoned factory was ravaged by flames. But that wasn't the worst. It was the lair of a serial killer, whom they called the Collector.

The survivors spoke of horrible things. Of torture, of strange experiences. According to police, the man had died in the fire along with his guard dogs and most of the evidence there was nothing left to fear.

Y/N didn’t ask Asa where the dogs were. She tried not to think about it.

If he was waiting for her to ask him about it, he didn't show it. He didn't talk about what happened during the night, behaving as if everything was perfectly fine, and going to work like every day. He would come home, he would kiss her, and he would do it again. The difference was only that he went out less often.

According to him, the season was not good for hunting. And with the problem at his office, he needed a little time, to rest, to repair the place.

This excuse could have worked forever. Of course, Y/N could have called the museum and they would have confirmed that there had never been any serious incidents, but she didn't want to. She continued to lie next to her husband, letting him embrace her tenderly.

Then there was the man's visit. He seemed surprised to see Y/N, as he placed a large red trunk in the kitchen. Almost sad too. He was holding a gun.

"I imagine you don't know anything about it. I can let you go, if you promise not to warn him, and to let me do what I have to do."

"… I don't understand what to talk to you about."

"Your dear husband. The man who kidnapped and tortured me for weeks. You're lucky you didn't see his little collection. He's a monster. He needs to die."

No doubt the man was right. There had always been something strange about Asa, everyone had always known it and Y/N had been the only one to refuse to see it. She had built her life with him, her home. They had to share everything.

So even if he was right, she without thinking grabbed a knife when he turned, convinced that she had understood and she stuck it in his back, at the level of his heart.

When she realized what she had just done, it was too late. The man was lying in his blood in the middle of the room, his gun fallen next to him. Y/N touched nothing, unable to do anything but cry while trying to remember how to breathe.

Asa found her like this, sitting against a wall, when he returned from the office. He looked at his wife, then at the scene in the kitchen, before putting his things down to crouch down next to her.

Like every times, he held her face so that she could look at him and he could kiss her on the forehead. Then with one hand he wiped the blood from her cheek, massaging her neck with the other to calm her down.

"Tell me what happened. Are you hurt, my firefly ?"

"No… He… He wanted to kill you. He said… Oh, my god. He had a gun, I… I was scared… He said you… Asa …"

"Shh. I'll take care of everything. Come on."

Holding her close, he took her to the bathroom where he helped her undress and get into the shower, which he adjusted so that the water was perfect. Taking a bath would have done her good, but he had to leave her alone to clean up, and he didn't want her to fall asleep.

"I'll be back, my firefly. Just sit here, it's okay."

Y/N didn't know how long she stayed under the water, shaking and crying. Not as long as she thought. Her husband quickly returned to help her get up, dry off and put on pajamas.

Although she was not hungry, he insisted that she have tea and biscuits, as it was not good to keep an empty stomach after such a shock, before putting her to bed. He certainly put something in the tea for her to sleep.

The kitchen was immaculate the next morning, as if nothing had happened. The man, the weapon, the red trunk, everything had disappeared.

Unusually, Asa had prepared breakfast. He was always up before her, but he only had coffee, and he often left for work while she was still asleep, coming to place a kiss on her forehead to warn her.

His dark eyes didn't leave her for a second as Y/N chewed her pancakes with difficulty, one hand on the glass of orange juice that she couldn't drink. She looked everywhere except her husband.

Before the intruder spoke, she had already started to have doubts. Questions. Now everything was quite clear, and all that remained was to decide what she was going to do. Asa was also obviously waiting, sitting near her.

The options were vast. Run away, call the police, risk getting killed… Y/N finally managed to lift the glass of orange juice, while thinking of their meeting.

"… Aren't you going to be late for work ?"

"No. I took some time off to stay with you."

“But your collection… I understood that it would take a long time to rebuild everything.”

"It's not as important as you, my firefly. My mantis religiosa. My black widow." he purred, running a hand through her hair, his lips on her neck.

Asa loved spiders. It was a nice compliment, even if she received it because she had killed a man and agreed not to report him to the authorities. He didn't seem to notice her fear, one of the reasons she remained silent.

Only the other reason mattered. And by giving her all these names, like a transformation, he was telling her that he would not harm her, that he did not see her as prey, and that even if she decided to do so, she could devour him.

#the collector #the collection #asa emory #asa emory x reader #asa emory fanfiction #slashers

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frracturedjaw · 1 year

Note

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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sunshine-and-moonshine · 10 months

Text

Baby Matching Outfits

Requested: Yes [Since request are open.........I HAVE ONE.... CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE 141, KÖNIG, ALE, KEEGAN. WERE THEY MATCH THERE OUTFIT WITH THEY'RE KIDS, BUT YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT IT AND THEY COME TO YOU AND SHOW (YOU KEEP THEM ASKING WHERE IS YOURS)🤭💞 PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE 🥹🫶]

Warnings: Sweet enough to rot your teeth

A/N: Trimmed off Price to make this six characters (the limit).

Gaz

Gaz grinned proudly at you as he held your daughter in his arms, the little one grabbing at the controller design on his t-shirt, probably recognizing it as the same thing that she’d see her Daddy holding when she was snuggled up next to him or in his lap as he played. A favorite activity of his, he liked to pretend that she was playing with him.

“I think this is the best purchase I’ve ever made before.” He tells you, bouncing Sunshine in his arms when she started to get a bit fussy. “I think she likes it! It’s a sign that she’ll like playing video games just as much as me.”

Ghost

Ghost does it unintentionally. It’s likely something that you bought because why wouldn’t you? It’s cute, references him, and it was just overall wholesome. But Ghost never really wears the shirt, and even more rarely puts the onesie on Asa. He just doesn’t understand the point. But he’s in a rush one morning to surprise you at work so he throws on the first shirt he sees and dresses your daughter in the onesie at the top of the pile.

Which leads to him holding Asa, surrounded by a group of your coworkers cooing about how cute it is that he’s matching his daughter. It’s very uncomfortable for him to say the least and he’s forever grateful when you finally meet him in the middle, shyly fiddling with Asa’s little hands.

Soap

It was a spur of the moment decision for Soap. He’d already been on his way to meet you, Bombi in his arms, when he saw the matching set in the window of a store. Ever the impulse shopper, Soap hadn’t even thought twice about whipping out his wallet and changing out his shirt and Bombi’s onesie in the bathroom before continuing on his way.

And of course he basked in the attention he got from you, even if 99% of it went to Bombi instead of him. He was proud that you liked it! “Maybe next time all of us can match, yeah?” He says, already coming up with a million and one ideas on how to do just that.

Alejandro

The matching outfits were given to him by his Mama, a late Father’s Day gift! She didn’t read English very well so she really only saw the cowboy hats and went “Perfect!!!!!” And Alejandro couldn’t help but agree. Which would be why he changed them both into the matching outfits right away and swiftly started making his way to your work, a grin on his face at every compliment he received along the way.

And then he was standing in front of you, practically glowing with pride as you cooed over him and your daughter, tickling her chubby tummy before giving him a kiss on the cheek. He definitely wouldn’t mind matching with your little one again.

Keegan

Keegan is really not one for dressing up. Barely owns a decent pair of jeans and a single shirt or two without holes all over. To say he doesn’t really care about his appearance when he’s not deployed is an understatement. Life Ghost, he probably matched with Skully unintentionally. Threw on the first shirt he saw and went with it.

So he was definitely confused when you kept giggling to yourself, looking between him and Skully, tickling the boy’s tummy as you complimented Keegan on his fashion sense. That was when he finally noticed and couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching over to hold one of Skully’s little hands in his. Maybe he could dress up a little better, as long as he matched the little one.

König

König loves to match with Princess! He has several matching shirts and onesies for him and her and he likes to wear them whenever possible. Today is one such day, your tiny baby in his arms, whining all the way to the park where he would be meeting you for lunch.

And oh he just melted when you cooked over them both, praising him for finding such cute clothes as you gently readjust the crocheted cap on Princess’ head, amused by the floppy green ears that were attached.

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