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sonicfanthenightfury5099 · 1 month

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Slashers with an S/O who has a Dragon Dido

Note: Had this idea brewing in my brain, so I decided to write about it.

Not sponsored by Bad Dragon

Synopsis: Reader asked Slashers if they wanted to experiment with their Sex toy

Minors DNI Reader is GN

Michael myers (both 78 and RZ), Jason Voorhees, The Sinclair Twins, Brahms Heelshire, Corey Cunningham

Michael Myers OG

When Michael found out you have a sex toy that's big and looks not human, he has questions about it

You explain what it is and how it works

It's a Dragon what now?

People make those and in the size you own?

When you ask if he can use it on you, he got a little offended

Why have that when you can have the real thing (even tho it's not that big like the toy)

With much convincing, he obligated to do some role play

You go down on your toy, your boyfriend has strap on to himself

He's enthusiastic about seeing how far you can deep thoat it before choking on it

He doesn't have to cum without holding, the toy can do that by his hand

Pounding into you seeing the bulge in your stomach produced by your dragon dildo is a site to behold

He's the Dragonoid, and you're his human mate of this role play

When it's decided you came enough, he makes your Toy cum. Pulling out your see his "seed" leave your engorged hole

Now he wants to do it again another day

Michael myers RZ

You sick minded person you are

How does that thing even fit??

You want me to do what?? Don't we do that normally?

Michael needs some time before he's ready to put it on for some fun

When the time comes, he's looking Ok with the strap-on.

🎶Big guy with a big Dragon Dick🎶 😂

Michael is going to be careful about this, still wondering if this whole toy is going to fit

But once it starts, it's going well. You're moaning from pleasure from the thrusting he's doing.

Once you start to asking for him to cum, he doesn't obligated cause he wants to go a bit little longer

Eventually, Michael simulates the dildo cumming pushing the syringe plunger, filling you up with the "Seed"

Pulling out afterwards, the cum lube flowed out of you, giving you a head tilted from the site. Pressing your stomach to watch more flow out

Definitely want to do it again rn

Jason Voorhees

Oh God Your Going to give Poor Boy a Heart Attack when you show him it

Jason has so many questions

How did you get it? Do people use these things? It can do what?

Jason is going to nearly a month or 2 before he puts on cockzilla

When the time comes when he's comfortable with the idea

Poor Boy is blushing from seeing the colorful dick fit on his big body

Being extremely careful with you

Putting it halfway in so he's not hurting you he starts out slow

Once the pace picks up, he pushes the whole Dildo in. Causing a bulge to form

Poor Boy came himself in his boxers from the friction

You comfort him from his accidentally mess he did. Afterwards, he went to clean up

Next time, he's going to be careful when role-playing

Bo Sinclair

What in God's green earth did he find in the bag in the shared closet?

When you came home, he had to ask about the Elephant or in case Dragon in the room

"A Dragon Cock? I didn't know you're that Twisted in the head, Darling."

This Cocky A-hole would definitely want to jump into this role play with the new toy

Trying to fully deep throat with it, nearly hurl from the gaging

Taking you behind with this bad boy

"That's right, take it, darling."

He makes you cum so much your overwhelmed

Releasing the "cum" from the syringe into you

He may want to get peg by that now to spicy up your relationship

Vincent Sinclair

Oh my God, what's in the Box??!!

Vincent is definitely a Dragon fan, and the fact you gotten a Dragon Dildo he's definitely red under his mask cause he wants to try it

Definitely work you up before pushing it in

Thursting the whole 8 inches of this Dragon Dick and going to town with you

Vincent was having fun watching you squirm around this big fake cock as he fucks you

Thinking it's enough for this, he released the "cum" into your hole before pulling out

Just watching the "seed" drip down from the expanded hole just makes him want to do it again

Could you do it to him another day?

Brahms Heelshire

What on earth are you using??

His eyes are wide behind that mask, seeing the large thing you're riding

Next time, his stinky wall ass comes out he's going to ask about what you have. First, he's going to be scolded for being a Pervert for watching you, then second, you're going to have to explain what it id

"Aren't Dragons supposed to be slayed, not something in the bedroom?"

You explain that people get these types of toys of different types for pleasure

You asked if he would like to use it on you if he's comfortable about it

The next night, he was lying on the bed strapped up, woty the big dicky pushing the plunger of the syringe some "cum" oozed out of the tip spooking him

You started out on giving some oral play on toy, giving your partner a subductive look while he just watched with red in his cheeks for the site

You started to ride on your dragon dildo while he watches you bounce on your toy.

After a while, he was pounding from behind before releasing the "cum" into you, it leaked from in between your hole and cock dripped onto the sheets

Brahms would like to do this again another time

Corey Cunningham (He's Adorable Fight Me! And this is a what if Corey became a Hero in Halloween Ends)

Oh poor baby saw the box on the counter and had a peek before turning away with an embarrassment on his face

You had to calm him down before explaining what you have and explain that people are getting to spice up. Corey was sheltered by his mother about the subject of Sex and toys

Corey would need a confidence boost before he decides to do the hanky panky with you

After becoming comfortable about having sex with you and about the "you know what" that's in your closet atm

Corey strapped up with the 9 inch Gradient Dragon Dick with the tube leading to a syringe full halfway of the "cum"

Start out slow, not putting it in fully being careful with you

Getting more into it and started to pick up the pace. Corey started to pound into you harder, having the bulge poking up from the dildo

Telling Corey to cum into you which he muched obligated, pushing all of the "cum" from the syringe into you

Would definitely want to it again another day

=======================

That's all

Again I'm Not Sponsored by Bad Dragon

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year

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❝ Take my soul (need control) ❞

slashers dating slasher reader | erratic!slasher!male!reader | fluff, smut | graphic description of violence, brief mention of animal cruelty in Brahms H. section, mentions of nsfw things |

as a preface, (Y/N) is implied to be erratic and unhinged as a slasher. their s/o's are the only ones who can calm them.

Amanda Young (Saw) -

You didn't fit in her future.

At least, that's what Amanda's initials thoughts are when you two stared down each other from across the parking lot, panting as you held your weapons.

She's heard of you through the news. The infamous (slasher name), the monster that lurks in the shadows and savagely crushes anyone who had the misfortune of wounding up as their victim.

Your methods were unlike hers. Not calculated, not planned, not meticulous - completely erratic, like a hurricane.

But she needs the man that one of you has knocked out in your scuffle. While you? You just saw him walking past you while he was making his way to his car and decided he'd die tonight. She stiffens and reaches back for the gun she brings for emergencies as you straighten up but finds herself bewildered as you begin laughing maniacally.

"Have 'im, Ms Piggy" She sees your grip loosen on your weapon and her fingers uncurl from the handle of the gun. "Ya' clearly need 'im more than I do" and just like that, you're gone. The only thing she hears is her own breathing and her racing heartbeat.

Amanda is feverish about finding you. She reads everything she can and scours wannabe psychos and sociopaths' blogs dedicated to your crimes. (slasher name) becomes an obsession.

When you meet again, you find 'Miss Piggy' eyeing the interiors of your home. She's unsure of what she feels as she imagines you moving about the space but she smiles when you begin chuckling like a hyena and reach for the knife you had on you.

"I need your help, (Y/N)"

"Will it be fun?"

Amanda's smiling under her mask. She's seen your research of her work. The newspaper clippings, paint (or blood) of your theories on the wall (among other 'deranged' scribbles) you were familiar with her.

"Wouldn't have asked if it wasn't".

Fun was an understatement. You were a wildcard, someone that could cost her this entire game but the carnage you spread was so beautiful...she wasn't sure if any device or game she sets up could compare.

You two end up working with each other more and more. Your unpredictability makes the FBI tear their hairs out - you were, ironically, the balance she needed in her scales.

When you two confess to each other, you're soaked in someone else's blood. She approaches you from behind, watching your shoulders and chest rise and fall.

You lick the blood from your lips, your smile stretching over your cheeks looking almost uncomfortable.

Her eyes flick to your lips then up to your eyes.

"Come 'ere, Miss Piggy" she leans in and you meet her halfway.

Most would argue that you would be the worst guy to be in a relationship with.

They're wrong.

Amanda knows the ins and outs of your twisted heart because you bare it to her as it beats for her in your palm.

She doesn't take advantage of it. Tests it? Sure, just to feel more secure, but never to the point where you doubt her love for her.

Amanda thinks your ingenuity and creative mind is her favourite part of you (among other things).

You've jokingly told her she could split your skull open to get those ideas fresh - she giggles and you gather her in your arms.

Amanda leaves the window of your bathroom unlocked. Just for you. She knows you need to 'hunt' sometimes and doesn't discourage it (though she makes sure you know her targets so you don't end up killing them). When you crawl back home, you make sure to shower first before you shuffle back into bed.

She tends to your wounds, scolding you only if she knows you could've avoided it in the first place. "More fun that way, 'Manda" she huffs "So you'd leave me forever just for more fun?"

She knows you're pretty screwed up in that brain box of yours, she's not above manipulating you to bend to her whims but she only ever does it out of love, (Y/N)!

She's highly protective of you. She'll ensure your identity is safe if there are any loose ends during your 'hunts'.

She can't lose you. You can't lose her. Both of you are monsters. Both of you belong together - can't live without the other.

If a victim manages to get an upper hand on either of you God help them.

The second one of you is in danger, the other only sees red.

You've literally taken several bullets for Amanda.

She was so gentle with you that night. Her kisses silent apologies. Seeing her cry as she looks down at you makes you move to sit - despite the pain and her protests. Her breath hitched as your tongue slithers in, Amanda's lips warmed by yours.

"You're hurt, (Y/N)" "Don't care, need you"

"You're hurt because of me!" her yell makes you tilt your head "I should've been more careful!" she continues.

"I want you, Amanda" you whine, cupping her weeping face in your hands. "I'll want you even if you hurt me, even if it kills me. Don't say no to me, Piggy?"

The nickname wins her over.

By the way, she calls you Froggy or Kermit (Kermy too!). It's cute.

(She buys green and pink items because they remind her of the two of you and you've gifted her two hearts that you'd cut in half, coloured pink and green and sowed together. She placed the gift on the desk she works on, it's displayed in a dome glass case and she fights back a smile every time she lays eyes on it)

The satisfaction she gets when victims scream as they spot you in the same room as them. Just so fucking proud of her killing machine.

When you go overboard, if the emotions get too overwhelming for you and you only think of how to get rid of the pain - Amanda grips the nape of your neck and pushes you onto your knees.

You bow because it's her. You breathe because it's her.

"(slasher name)" Your eye twitches, gaze still floating around the room but she knows she has your attention.

"You all there, Kermy?"

"I'm right here, Piggy".

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) -

Initially, you'd taken the babysitting job as a cover to lay low. Things were getting heated in (insert wherever you're from) and this secluded manor was perfect.

The sight of the doll didn't make you falter. Hey, you got a few screws loose yourself so you didn't judge the Heelshires for how they cope.

Brahms was intrigued by you from the second he laid his eyes on you. The way you instantly gathered the doll in your arms without an ounce of judgement makes butterflies flutter.

He is elated to know that there's a chance you won't freak out if you see him.

He quickly finds out you're not exactly the Average Joe.

You brought the rat traps inside, he inches closer to the hole in the wall when you suddenly froze. The rat squeaks furiously and your non-dominant hand idly reaches for the drawers. Brahms did not expect you to pull out a meat tenderizer.

There's a mix of emotions in the boy as he skitters to his room. He laid awake that night, a part of him wondering if you were just like him and the other feeling guilt at the excitement.

His parents tried their best to nurture him into a decent man. Even if it didn't work, their voices still linger in his head but when he sees the tender way you cradle the porcelain extension of himself the next morning? Your voice sickly sweet, lips pressing into the cold temple of the doll?

Brahms craves you.

Malcolm, poor, stupid, Malcolm.

Brahms wasn't the only one that wanted him gone. The only reason you reciprocated his advances was to fulfil a different type of lust.

(Malcolm wasn't your type anyways.)

Brahms's nails nearly break as he digs them in the wood of the walls, breath labouring as anger consumes him. Malcolm was on top of you, unworthy hands gripping at you like you were some common whore.

He's moved from behind the walls to the closet when you're on top of him. The grip of the 'missing' meat tenderizer was so tight his hand was trembling.

Malcolm yells in pain and Brahm pauses as he watches you laugh in pure delight as you dig your thumbs inside Malcolm's eye sockets.

You turn to him, smile still etched on your features and Brahms gulps as you bring your thumb to your mouth to suck the blood and gore clean.

"Cute mask"

The kitchen utensil drops with a comical 'THUD!' while you two stare at each other.

Your relationship falls into a steady, domestic, pace much quicker than both of you anticipated. How could they not? The secluded land was beautiful when the weather wasn't so dreary. Even if it was, the grand fireplaces were extremely nice to cosy up next to. It's hard NOT to fall deeper and deeper into each other when everything was so romantic.

Malcolm's death was covered up thanks to the wild animals on the land. Brahms watches from the window as you whistle, beckoning the scavengers as you spread a few of Malcolm's innards around.

You tell him everything about your kills. Effectively burying his parent's voice in his head as you sink him deeper and deeper into your hell.

"You're beautiful just like this, Brahmsy" he pants from beneath the mask and you place a kiss on those cold lips. "They won't understand like I do, we're meant to be like this so we can find each other" his pupils are so blown out as he stares up at you.

"You're my good boy, Brahms, forever and always. Okay?"

"Okay, (Y/N)". Your smile was sculpted by the king of hell himself and Brahm's eyes roll back as you move your hips.

Brahms feels vindicated and free. For once, guilt doesn't whisper accusingly in his shadow. Instead, there's you.

Your routines overlap his. Your hands pull him from the darkness. Your voice haunts him every second of every day.

The bodies pile up in the woods. The rats are scarce with the sudden spike of scavengers drawn to the Heelshire manor.

You love spoiling him with victims, love watching him release his creativity and curiosity. He's so good with his hands and all that raw strength? It's not an odd sight for you to make love in the showers after 'play time' was done.

He loves helping you freak the shit out of your victims, pretending to be the ghost in the walls and making them so paranoid they think they've gone crazy.

When they're dealt with, Brahms often makes snacks for the both of you.

Oh! He makes a mask for you. To show his love and for you to wear when you need it.

He doesn't like that you leave the manor. It causes BIG arguments. Vintage vases flying to the wall kind of arguments. But you were a bloodthirsty hound, you needed to stretch your legs.

He'll be sullen but he gets over it. This routine annoys the shit out of both of you though but over time, he learns you need it just as much as he needs his quiet times.

He welcomes you when you get home, lifting his mask to kiss you and you giggle as your hands slide up his wifebeater.

"Miss me, big boy?"

"Always" he pouts.

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) -

Corey knew before you did.

You were just like him. The darkness spills from your eyes as you tell him how the front of your car got wrecked.

"A deer scared you?" he wipes his hands on the front of his uniform, turning to you as you nod and stroke the large dents and scratches on your hood. "Swerved into the woods, didn't hit a tree head-on - Thank God, right?" Corey nods.

He pretends not to see the splatter of blood and hoses down the hair and chunks of flesh from your tires.

Guessed you missed a spot, hm?

He's good at being undetected. People...people avoid him nowadays.

You don't have to ask around much to learn about the cute, outcasted, mechanic's past. You find it all a bit pathetic. These people were really that terrified of him over what sounded like an honest mistake?

Corey wonders why you've gone to Allen's family's abandoned house during his nightly routine of stalking you.

He watches you from the windows, knife in hand though with no real intent of using it...on you anyways. Blood had already stained the blade.

You pause at the sight of dried blood and gaze up the spiralling staircase. Much to his chagrin, you lay down and place your head right on the bloodstain.

Your laughter makes blood pool under the skin of his cheeks. Your hands splay out to your side and you're laughing so hard your sides hurt, Corey finds himself pressing a hand to the window and wishes he was right beside you.

The next day, Corey's parked right out of the supermarket just as you come out. He grins boyishly and you ask if he needs anything. He holds himself back from saying "you" and instead asks if you're free tonight.

You don't expect him to be so forward but you're intrigued. So you ask if he'll be the one to pick you up (considering your car is still in his garage) and Corey pretends to be interested as you write down your address as he imprints the sight of your semi-focused expression. He already knows where you live but you don't have to worry about that, (Y/N).

The night was perfect from the get-go. Your warmth pressed against his back as he drove the two of you to a bar that was further away than usual but was the only one he could go to without people whispering — you don't mind.

Then drinks got involved and suddenly you're dancing with him, some shitty pop song playing over shitty speakers but neither of you cared.

Then reality came crashing in. Someone had loudly — drunkenly — mentioned Corey's past. Everyone gives him looks and although he could care less he pretends to by pulling you out of the bar.

"Corey, wait" he's too drunk to drive and his hands are itching to feel blood so he pauses as you chuckle the command out. "Stay here, baby" The nickname makes his heart flutter and he nods as he leans against his bike. When you disappear back into the bar — probably left something, he thought — he curses and tries his hardest not to storm in and strangle the life out of that asshole who ruined his date and the closest bar he could go to without reproachful glares.

He contemplates the thought of moving away from Haddonfield with you when his phone rings. It's you. For a second, he thinks you're in trouble but when he answers you're breathless pants of glee tells him otherwise.

"Come to the back, Corey".

The sight that greets him is the asshole with a bleeding mouth and a broken nose. The burst veins in his eyes and the wooden plank that you held loosely in your arm paint a clear picture.

"Night's still young, baby" you muse as you make a faux swing that makes the man whimper from where he was sprawled on the ground. "I know you wanna" Your purr makes Corey shudder.

The Cheshire grin on your face is absolutely maniacal as Corey sheds his jacket and pulls out the pocket knife he kept in his back pocket.

The same one you'd felt against your thighs when you were riding his bike.

Haddonfield was lucky the two of you decided to spread your chaos elsewhere because the two of you were insatiable.

The fact that neither of you stayed in one city for too long also didn't help. You were basically doing an American-wide murder spree.

And Corey would not have it any other way.

You were just like him — wilder, sure, but you understood him in ways no one else had ever done.

"Fuck, baby" Corey has you on the bed of some engineer whose blood was currently being used as lube. The man's body was somewhere in the room but Corey barely gave a shit when you're looking down at him with that toothy grin that makes your eyes twinkle with bloodlust. "Mm, you feel so fuckin' good, Corey".

Somehow you two decide to settle down in a quiet town. Corey going under a different name as he works at a garage. Everybody around you thinks you guys are the sweetest couple — cooing at how young you are and sighing about young love.

They don't know that your weekend trips are spent with blood, guts, and sex. Two maniacs completely enamoured with one another.

"Baby, look" Corey eyes the silver band on your finger. Then the other one is on your palm as you extend it to him. You drop the chopped-off hand of the man the both of you had just killed and inched closer and closer.

"Pretty, hm?" he nods "Till death do us part" At that, he scoffs and pulls you in closer.

"Not even Death can keep us apart, (Y/N) (L/N)" he brushes the tip of your noses together and plants a bloody kiss but your giggle cuts it short.

"Don't you mean, (Y/N) Cunningham-(L/N)?" Corey's grin is nothing short of loving and he claims your lips again.

OG!Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) -

To be completely honest, the way you two met was a blur. Before you met Michael Myers your life had little to no meaning.

When he decided to break into your family home one night, he jump-starts everything. He had you pinned on the dining table, his mask already coated with the blood of your kin. Your feeble attempts at escaping his inhumanely strong grip leave you gasping for breath and you're sure that the building pressure in your head isn't a good sign.

But when you stare into Michael's eyes a sudden force tugs your lips apart into a bloody smile. Your laughter is nothing but strained gasps and squeaks and it makes Michael's grip falter enough for you to finally grasp the make-shift stake beside you (from the chair he'd thrown your way) and drive it into his shoulder.

Michael staggers and without missing a beat, you're lunging at him again. No fear, no hesitation, and frankly, no thoughts behind such a brash action.

The force of your body slamming into him throws his momentum off but he feels something in his chest suddenly beat as your shrill laughter fills his ears.

You, with your wild hair and wilder eyes...

Michael craved you.

He knocks you out.

Then, he watches you. From your recovery in the hospital to the 'safehouse' you were placed in. The detectives thought this could be their chance — to finally catch Michael Myers as he 'finishes you off'.

Michael knows you're done with your kill just from the shift in the air. He enters the safehouse and stares at the splatters of blood and bullet holes in the drywall. He follows the sounds of your laughter and finds you in the dining room in a familiar pose.

You have the detective pinned under you, fingers crushing his larynx as he weakly fights back against you. Michael waits politely, when you're done he moves to the back door and you wordlessly follow.

Eating rats was new but strangely enough the act of catching them was a great bonding activity. Your jokes about meeting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles — and eating them — fly over Michael's head but his amused silence tells you he doesn't mind your babbles.

He learns fairly quickly that, unlike his silent, effortlessly, intimidating self, you're erratic, loud and pumped with energy when you're hunting.

He doesn't dislike it but it takes some getting used to.

You don't always go on hunts together but when you do he appreciates your gore-y creativity.

The Shape of Haddonfield now has Hellhound by his side — isn't that a cute nickname for yourself, (Y/N)?

While victims shit themselves at the sight of Michael, his stony demeanour is what makes him all the more Boogeyman-worthy. He feels inhuman. That both terrifies and comforts some — but you?

You're entirely too human. Your glee, your rambles as you stab your victims, you're laughter full of excitement.

"Mikey" he glances your way as your fingers stroke up the neck of his mask. Here you were, sprawled all over Michael Myer's lap like a goddamn kitten. You lean up and kiss his rubbery lips, he hums as your tongue licks his mask and pushes you back just enough to lift his mask above his nose.

"Thank you, Mikey" you chuckle, letting him taste the romantic spaghetti dinner you two had helped yourselves to after murdering the old couple.

Their home was isolated enough, that both of you could enjoy living above ground for a few days.

"You taste so good, Mikey" The grip on your waist makes that addictively sweet laughter bubble in your throat.

RZ!Michael Myers (Halloween (2007 - 2009))-

You were the only good thing in his god-forsaken life.

The mental institution had made a big mistake in housing two monsters — especially when those monsters were always so drawn towards each other.

No matter what punishments they inflicted on either of you for sharing glances. It did little to stop this undeniable, instinctual, need to be close to one another.

Initially, the doctors had thought Michael's curiosity was a good sign. A sign that he was showing interest in making friends. Even if you were less than ideal in terms of 'fixing' him considering your own streak of homicide (that landed you in this shithole in the first place) but they were desperate.

So, they allowed controlled meetings. Michael's stare terrified others but you seemed to thrive under his attention.

Guards had reached out to pull you back as you climbed the table and got right up in Michael's face but he is as still as a statue as you carefully brush his long locks of blonde hair back.

"There you are, pretty boy" and with those words and your eyes that reflect back his darkened soul right back at him — Michael is smitten.

When he escapes, he finds you.

When he enacts his revenge, you're the shadow that devours any sacrificial lambs that managed to stray from his grasp.

Oh, he's all yours.

Michael swears that if you're not near him the air feels thinner.

He relishes in the way you mercilessly slaughter anyone in your way — he doesn't ask why you kill but knows that whatever the answer he'll support his batshit insane boyfriend.

"Is this for me?" he nods, showing you the new mask he'd created. You smile warmly, sitting across from him as you carefully place the mask on your face.

"How do I look, pretty boy?"

He places his large hand on your thighs and begins tapping. You encourage him with careful strokes to his bicep.

.--. .-. . - - -.--

Your grin makes his heart flutter. "Thank you, baby" and you reward your darling lover with a kiss which makes him grunt at the mask that blocks him from properly kissing you.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) -

They had an inkling you were just like them.

Billy says it's the way your eyes become devoid of any light when you're angry. While Stu tells you it's the way you lick the blood from your split lip and smile as you lunge at the opposing team's captain.

(Y/N) (L/N), an athlete of their school.

Meanwhile, to his boyfriends, he's an absolutely merciless murderer.

Everyone sort of avoids you. Even your coach rarely gets in your face to yell at you the way he does at everyone else. It baffles people that Billy and Stu are your lovers.

For them though? It's the perfect match.

You're not Ghostface, however, (slasher name) is always spotted with Ghostface.

A maniac with brute strength that takes hits and stabs and even bullets without going down.

Those who did live to tell the tale of an encounter with (slasher name) and Ghostface mutter that hurting Ghostface? Was a big fucking mistake if (slasher name) is there to witness it.

You're the kind of guy to body slam someone out a second-storey window and just walk it off while the victim who cushioned your fall is wheezing their last breath.

Billy reprimands your unnecessary displays of brutality while Stu simply gushes about how cool it was. They both tend to your wounds, kissing and massaging anything that hurts.

Ghostface is equally as protective of you, make no mistake, even if they're not throwing a chair at a victim they will ensure you don't actually get yourself killed in your bloodlust.

Stu has pulled a gun and shot someone in the face when they threatened to do the same to you.

Billy rushes to the two of you upon hearing gunshots but groans in relief as he sees you making out with Stu mere inches away from the body.

"Hey! Earth to perverts! Time to scram!" Billy is pulled into the make-out session by you and he all but melts under your hold.

"Want you. Now" Stu laughs at your huffy tone but eagerly circles his hands around your waist while you pull Billy closer to your front.

Beauregard 'Bo' Sinclair (House of Wax) -

A new victim of Ambrose? That's what you are, right?

Wrong.

You'd been a solo traveller that coincidentally got grouped up with another group of travellers. You seemed normal enough, Bo thinks as he spots you making your way to his garage.

Cute and handsome, a darn shame you'd have to die but at least Vincent will immortalize your beauty.

He notices that you're not close with the others. When he asks, you explain your vehicles had broken down near each other so Lester rounded up all of you together.

You lean on the hood of the car he was clearly working on, jutting your hips and looking impressed. He shamelessly takes in the curve of your butt before putting on a charming Southern smile when you glance back at him.

"Good with your hands, hm?" Bo feels blood travel south but he just chuckles. The conversation is cut short by the others clearing their throats.

When he kills the group one by one, he immediately notices that you seem excited at the violence he spreads. You don't scream or yelp but you're helping him.

At first, he thinks you're just saving your ass from getting sliced down when you push someone in front of you. But while the others run, you're moaning as he's thrusting the blade repeatedly into the man's body.

He pants as you two make eye contact, gulping he pulls the blade out and offers it to you.

"Fuckin' finally" you coo, pressing a bloody kiss on his cheek before you slip to hunt the others down.

His brothers are definitely confused by his decision to let you stay as a real residence of Ambrose but after another group rolls in you prove your worth to them.

Between heated moments under the sheets and lip-locking with Bo, you confess that the reason you ended up at Ambrose was that the police were hot on your tail.

"It's fate," you say as you trace circles on his chest. "We were meant to meet, to be family" he would usually scoff at such a notion but the way you fit into his deranged life so easily...

"It's something", he gruffs out, watching as you take the lighter from his hand to light the cigarette between his lips. "Whatever it is, it brought you to me so"

"Aww, Bo, you gettin' sappy on me?" your teasing makes him threaten to shove the cigarette in your mouth but you just laugh it off.

"Love ya', Bo" he averts his eyes but mumbles.

"Love you too..."

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) -

Instead of catching Bo's eyes, it's Vincent's heart that you grasp.

A solo traveller that somehow got roped in with another group, a victim of circumstance is what Vincent would have called you.

But instead, you've ruthlessly wormed your way inside his heart.

While the others ran like headless chickens when Bo started killing, you were dragged by another girl to hide in the Sinclairs' house. Stupid move on her end really, but you were curious about their headquarters of sorts. So you follow, breathing raggedly to sell this whole 'helpless victim' façade.

You find the basement. Despite the chills that run down your spine from the scent of death (and wax) you convince her it'd be a good place to hide.

Vincent hears her as she shakily steps into his lair. He thinks she's the only one but finds it odd that she looks desperately over his shoulder as he slices her head off with a pair of garden shears.

Until he feels a blade pressed right at the base of his spine.

"You're pretty strong" Your eyes twinkle from the corner of his and he goes rigid as you dig the tip of the blade deeper. You reach to brush locks of his hair behind his ear, a growl raises from his throat but you shush him.

Your lips brush on the shell of his ear.

"I'll bring more of them here, I want to watch while you turn them into pieces of art".

Bo is feeling an inkling of worry at the sudden lack of victims. He rushes to see if they've decided to overwhelm Vincent and finds you swinging your feet while Vincent is organizing the bodies of the group.

Bo is distrustful. He thinks you've seduced his twin and while that is true, you've no bad intentions like he thinks you do.

Vincent is painfully awkward compared to your nonchalant energy. But it works, the two of you just work.

He scolds you when you get new wounds from the victims fighting back but it's a bit hypocritical when he does the same.

Though he prefers wax figures, he did dabble in oil paints again as he attempts to recreate the scene he sees of you demolishing victims.

A watcher, a stalker; an artist.

Vincent usually stays in the basement but ever since you came? When the hunt is on, he's watching you. Imprinting the image of your body shaking with muffled laughter as you pull your jaws away from the bleeding neck of a victim, spitting out their vocal cords with a satisfied hum.

"Vinnie" your coo makes him flinch but he walks out from the shadows as you beckon him with your hand. Your boyfriend stands in front of you, reaching to wipe some blood away from your cheek but really the only thing he does is move it around.

"Was that pretty, Vinnie?" he huffs through his nose and lifts your chin up so you stain his waxy lips with warm blood.

He pulls away to sign, 'Always beautifull'.

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) -

You rode with him on the way to Ambrose.

He's taken by your looks and feels a sense of pity and regrets that you'd be dead soon. Especially since you were the only one among the others that weren't a complete asshole to him.

"Ambrose, huh" he nods, tapping his steering wheel as his eyes flit between the road and you. "Must be pretty secluded, haven't even heard of it", he laughs and tells you it's because you aren't from around here.

"See ya'" he waves at you but you scan him from head to toe in a way that's not scrutinizing but lustful. He feels his cheeks warm, you nod to him as a goodbye before you turn to walk into the death trap that is Ambrose.

He's surprised to find you covered in blood and right outside his shack later that night. Jonesy growls near his heel but you were just sitting there on his porch, casually testing the weight of the hilt of a hatchet in your hands.

"Your brothers should use you more than a glorified Ferryman" he is confused but tense. His muscles are rigid like a snake coiling to bite.

Blood drips from the ends of your hair and nose, you place the hatchet down and crouch, beckoning Jonesy' with a sweet baby voice that has the poor pup confused between staying by Lester's side or sniffing you.

"I like Ambrose," you tell him, your eyes squished into an adorable crescent shape.

"Can I stay, Lester?"

His brothers aren't aware of you until at least a week. They were extremely distrustful of you, their baby brother was someone that they did not want to be harmed. Hence why he stays out of the nitty-gritty of it all.

When you show that you're just as protective of Lester, they approve of your relationship. Not that you would let their approval get in the way of your love for him anyways.

Your boyfriend has to get used to your sudden disappearances and reappearances.

And he has to learn how to stitch you up as well. He doesn't scold you though reminds you to be more careful but drinks up your stories of the victims being crushed under your foot.

Whoever manages to stray far enough from Ambrose to find Lester's shack will find themselves in an entirely different but just as torturous hell.

Jonesy enjoys the raw feed though.

"I gotta go" Lester laughs as you whine and drag him back to your side. "I gotta check if anyone's 'lost'" he reminds but you stubbornly shake your head.

"Can't leave me, I'm hurt and defenceless"

Yeah, Lester's seen you shove the end of a rake down someone's throat with a broken arm and a concussion all while laughing. You could protect yourself with the scrapes and boo-boos from the night before just fine.

Feeling yourself lose this battle, you press a kiss to the nape of his neck as he sits and it makes his breath hitch.

Your hands circle his waist and his head hangs low as you slip your fingers down the band of his underwear.

"Stay" you plead.

"Jesus H. Christ" he turns and you grin triumphantly as he kisses you.

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dragonfirerogue-writes · 3 months

Text

Black Light

Wednesday x Parasite!Reader

Part One | Part Two |

"What'd you get?"

"Pilgrim World! Bet! You?"

"Weathervane! Free coffee all day, yo!"

You flick open your envelope to see where you were going to be for the 'honored' Outreach Day. It seems like most people were getting placed into Pilgrim World. Aaaaand you were also one of them. A heavy sigh escapes as you shove the paper into your pocket.

Normies would avoid you out of fear because of your outcast status. Outcasts avoid you out of fear of your known powers. Even then, outside of your chosen few, you didn't bother putting yourself out there. Outreach Day was a farce in your opinion and it masks underlying issues. But, whatever helps morale, you guess.

Feeling a presence, you turn to see both Enid and Wednesday appear by your side. Though the wolf flinches slightly at your attention, she gives you a smile.

"What'd you get, Y/N?" She asks. You could tell her enthusiasm masking her fear of you, but it felt nice to know she was trying.

"Pilgrim World. How 'bout you two?"

"Samesies," Enid replies almost immediately. "I have natural people skills and a love of performing, so it's kind of the obvi choice." You just nod. She was definitely the complete opposite of you. You turn to Wednesday next, awaiting her answer.

"Uriah's Heap, whatever that is."

"Ew. It's a weird, creepy antique store." When Enid feels both yours and Wednesday's eyes boring into her, she backtracks slightly.

"You'll love it though." You just roll your eyes in reply.

"I'd rather be at Uriah's than at Pilgrim World. Less people to stare at me."

"Maybe you'll get better with your social skills." Enid quips, only to squeak and stride away due to your glare.

"She's lucky she's cute..." You grumble. Wednesday raises an eyebrow at the statement.

"Didn't expect loud blondes to be your type, Y/N." You snort in response.

"Hardly but I'm not blind. People like her and Bianca are conventionally attractive," you start. "Just not my type. Not like I'm swimming in options. Not many want a monster as a partner."

A soft scoff sounds from Wednesday. "Not many have any semblance of taste."

You don't get a chance to ruminate on the words as Weems makes her appearance then, her attention on the small goth.

"Wednesday. Don't worry about your cello. I'll have it brought to the town square this afternoon."

The girl eyes the tall woman with suspicion. "My cello?"

The principal explains that she volunteered Wednesday to join the Jericho High marching band after she heard the goth play the other night. As she walks away with a near smug look on her face, Wednesday turns to you.

"Promise you'll hang me as a witch afterwards," she deadpans.

"Good thing I perfected my noose technique."

Wednesday couldn't help but smirk.

-----+++++-----

You're lingering behind the group of outcasts making their way to Pilgrim World. You weren't looking forward to being in those stupid costumes and having to deal with the myriad of tourists flooding the park. The gaggle of students partaking in the photo areas were already grating on your nerves and you're sure that being crushed like Giles Corey would be more pleasant than this torture.

"Why anyone would come here is a mystery..." You mutter. A sudden voice from your side surprises you.

"Pretty sure it's only for the fudge."

Wednesday's appearance confuses you. A few stunned blinks pulls you from the surprise, but only just.

"What are you doing here?"

"Switched with Enid so I could find out more about this Joseph Crackstone. He seems to be a clue into my investigations." A groan from your throat makes the girl furrow her brows.

"Why Enid though?" You whine pathetically. "I would've switched in a heartbeat to be free of all of this." You point to the raving pilgrim talking about witch trials as if to prove your point. Wednesday only shakes her head.

"The thought did cross my mind, but I figure you'll be more useful to me here," she states. "Whether I'd like to admit it or not."

You let out a resigned sigh while inwardly preeninh at the compliment. "At least I won't suffer alone..."

-----+++++-----

Being on the PW Outreach team was made more tolerable with the fact that Wednesday had done things to undermine the weird theme park. Being near the girl made you want to kill less. That's why you now found yourself outside of the closed meeting house alongside her and Eugene, having rescued him from a few normie bullies.

"And what are we looking to find here, Wednesday?" you ask while keeping an eye out. You were no stranger to sneaking around. The goth just rolled her eyes in reply.

"There has to be a clue about who Crackstone is here. I'll find it and be ever closer to finding out why he and I are entwined." She then turns to you with a sharp look. "Come now. We haven't all day. Locks don't pick themselves."

The things you do for this girl. With a exasperated huff, you step towards the meeting house door and place your hand by the lock. A few tendrils pop from your arm and make their way into the opening. After a few seconds, you all hear a soft click and the door opens.

"You'd think they'd install a better lock at least." You flex your fingers as if you had shoved them in the keyhole. "What would you have used if I wasn't here?"

"Eugene's retainer."

Both you and Eugene just stare at Wednesday in disbelief. There's a moment before she shoves you aside and steps into the building.

"Keep watch. If that Mistress Arlene shows her face, deny everything."

"I'm not good at lying..." mutters Eugene. You just pat him on the shoulder.

"Just let me do the talking."

Talking didn't help as the woman bulldozed her way through a moment later, dragging both you and Eugene by the ears as she confronts Wednesday. It was obvious that the woman had dealt with hooligans before, whether during this job or her previous one. At the very least, you learned some things about this place. Mainly that it was fake and the original meeting house was elsewhere. That and the book Wednesday was looking for had gone missing. At least now her investigation would take place away from this place. But that's for another time. You had to deal with fudge churning duties now.

Joy.

-----+++++-----

As soon as you could, you ripped the damned frock uniform off your body and donned your school uniform and hoodie. The sheer relief to have your normal clothing on almost made you sag into the nearest chair. You had used your powers to churn as much fudge as you were assigned and took the first moment to make your exit. You didn't know where Wednesday was, but you definitely need coffee. Pulling your hood up, you make your way to the Weathervane.

Whether it was coincidence or fate, you find Wednesday at the coffee shop, speaking to Xavier.

"I thought you were suppose to be at Pilgrim World?" he asks.

"I deserted it while my sanity was still intact."

"Leaving me to churn all that fudge on my own, mind you." you said, making your presence known. Wednesday just turns to you and shrugs.

"You had Eugene to assist."

"And you think he was any actual help?"

The two of you stare at each other, both with an eyebrow raised. A silent debate happening between you two until Xavier interrupts.

"Uh, you two want coffee? It's one of the many perks of this wonderful assignment..."

"I'm actually here for Tyler."

Both you and Xavier slump at the mention of the boy awkwardly standing away from you three, watching yet not wanting to intrude.

"I told you he was bad news," the psychic retorts. You couldn't help but agree, though for you it was more of a gut feeling than anything.

"Who I speak to is my business."

Wednesday's words had a tone of finality in it causing Xavier to just let out a sigh and ring the bell that was next to him. Tyler meanders up cautiously.

"You rang?"

With that, you check out of the conversation. Finding a seat nearby, you wait for any indication that Wednesday was leaving. Snippets of voices registered in your brain, but none was important enough for you to really react to. At least not until Tyler attempts to offer his help.

"Look, the ruins are kind of tricky to find," he starts. "I could take you this afternoon. My shift ends at 2:00."

Before you could even pipe up and offer a retort, Wednesday beats you to it.

"Principal Weems would hang, draw and quarter me if I miss the big statue dedication." You could see the girl grimace at the thought of the event. "And as enticing as it sounds, I'd prefer to keep a low profile."

"For now..." you murmur, only to have the goth backhand you in retaliation.

"If you're going to pester me you better make yourself useful. Come."

Wednesday immediately stands and exits the café. You could only glance at the two boys before scurrying after her.

-----+++++-----

When you followed Wednesday to the meeting house ruins, you weren't expecting to sit in the rain, waiting for the girl to wake up. You and Thing were impatiently waiting for her to wake up after she keeled over after attempting to leave. You had an umbrella made to keep all of you dry.

"If she doesn't wake up soon, I'm just gonna carry her back to campus."

Thing taps in response.

"I carried her to this spot. It shouldn't be any different."

More taps.

"Yeah, yeah, I know this is the general vicinity but we've been here for like half an hour."

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Wednesday shoots up with a gasp.

"Thing! Y/N! I saw her! The girl from my vision." She leans into your arms, woozy from sitting up too quickly, but her eyes are still focused. "Her name is Goody Addams and I believe she's my ancestor from 400 years ago."

-----+++++-----

It was really hard not to hate Wednesday's potential suitors. The normie was trying too hard and Xavier was too condescending. How he didn't believe two personal accounts was absurd. Even more absurd than the statue unveiling event you were stuck in right now.

At least you know it was going to get lit. Literally.

You wait through speeches, eyes almost glazed over from utter boredom. The sudden swell of music jerks you into attention and your eyes immediately find Wednesday. With the barest of nods, you get your cue.

Tendrils emerge from your body and creep through the bleachers. Within its grasp, a small fuse makes its way towards the fountain. Hidden away from the view of the spectators, gas-soaked fabric hanging from a pool of gasoline in the fountain stuck out. You attach the fuse and pull back your tendrils. Once you pull away, you hear the strike of a match and a faint sizzle hidden by the band.

Oh this is going to be good.

Your eyes meet Wednesday's as Crackstone's statue bursts into flames and chaos erupts around you. The cellist changes the tune she was playing, allowing the music to reflect the terror around her. Your wide grin almost makes her smile wider.

#a dragon tries to write #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday (netflix)

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district9and3starkids · 1 year

Text

Little detail in NPMD that’s living rent free in my mind (spoilers ahead!)

I know the fandom has been obsessing over figuring out the lyrics to everyone’s favorite chaotic™️ scene but I wanna acknowledge something in the choreography that caught my attention💃🏻

Okay so first off MASSIVE PROPS to Lauren for choreographing this so amazingly. If you pay close attention you’ll notice that each of the Lords in Black has their own cute little 8 count dance related to their character (some more clear than others).

Pokey💙

switching back and forth between his hand and the mask (I’m assuming representing him wanting to block out every voice that’s not his own).

Nibbly💗

need I explain???

Wiggly💚

I’m assuming the arm motions are supposed to represent his tentacles

Blinky💜

also self-explanatory

Tinky💛

… okay honestly this one tripped me up but it fits the vibe

Okay so this alone was a cool discovery, but THEN I noticed that the Lords in Black cycled through each other’s choreography throughout the scene. After a million watches that I absolutely don’t regret I’m pretty sure I figured out the pattern to be: Wiggly➡️Tinky➡️Nibbly➡️Blinky➡️Pokey🔁 in a looping order. There were a few discrepancies in this pattern (I think possibly either due to choreography mistakes or maybe it was just to make the choreography look more symmetrical?) but this was the order that most commonly persisted:

Anything in parenthesis is what I think they were supposed to do because it’s a simple switch that fits the pattern (Corey never did Tinky’s dance but did Nibbly’s for 2 cycles, Lauren had Nibbly and Tinky’s reversed).

Anyway this may already be a thing because I definitely need to get caught up on Hatchetfield lore but I’m wondering if there’s any significance to this order?

It almost matches the order that we were introduced to the Lords in Black in (Blinky being the one out of place):

Wiggly (Black Friday)

Blinky (Watcherworld. NMT Season 1, episode 1 part 2)

Tinky (Time Bastard. NMT Season 1, episode 2 part 2)

Nibbly (Honey Queen. NMT Season 2, episode 1)

Pokey (Yellow Jacket. NMT Season 2, episode 4).

It almost matches reverse order to when we were first introduced to all of the dolls in The Witch in the Web: Pokey➡️Blinky➡️Tinky➡️Nibbly➡️Wiggly. Nibbly and Tinky are reversed, which could maybe be connected to Lauren reversing their dances in the order but I feel like that’s too far of a reach:

It also almost matches the order that the names are read from in the black book (again reverse order and Nibbly and Tinky are switched):

^creds to whoever typed out the script cause my digital ticket expired by the time I realized I wanted to double check this

It makes sense that invoking the names ends with Wiggly since it’s been implied at multiple times that he is the most powerful and terrible of the Lords in Black but other than that I’m clueless.

One moment that perfectly matches the pattern in the dance if you reverse it is the one real picture we have of the dolls from Nick’s Twitter:

If you start with any of them and go backwards it matches the (most consistent) pattern from the dance perfectly: Nibbly⬅️Tinky⬅️Wiggly⬅️Pokey⬅️Blinky

There’s more stuff that shows up in the choreography throughout the dance that intrigued me but this post is already way too long and I’m guessing with my luck there’s probably 0 significance to the order that the dances were done in buuuut yeah I’m driving myself insane on this so if anyone has any insight let me know!

Nerdy prudes must die🤪

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jimsbeetroot · 1 year

Text

heated ♱ joey jordison

♱ i just don’t know if i can wait any longer ♱

smut

Joey pulled his mask off as soon as he entered the backstage locker room where he and his bandmates were taking a five-minute break before returning to the stage.

Y/N had been chatting with Scarlett by the side of the stage while they watched Joey and the band rock their guts out to fifty-thousand people.

It was Y/N’s third time going on tour with Joey. She’d pretty much been by his side since the start of Slipknot. Touring with Slipknot was great, but it sure as hell was not easy. Impractical was the best word to describe it.

First of all, Y/N and Joey had to share a bunk bed, which at first didn't seem like much of a problem considering they’d been a couple for over four years. But every now and again, one of them would accidentally elbow one another in the face, or worse.

There wasn't much of an opportunity for the two to spend some quality time together either. Usually, a quickie in the bunk would have to do.

Other than that, the tour had been going great. Y/N had been having fun with Scarlett, Corey’s wife while the boys were performing, and honestly, she was just enjoying the fact, that she got to spend everyday with Joey.

Joey sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, his legs wide spread open as he panted away from the exertion. Y/N made her way towards Joey and watched how his face lit up at the sight of her.

"Were we any good?" Joey asked, reaching down beside his chair to grab a bottle of water.

"Fuckin' killer," Y/N responded, and Joey winked at her response.

Y/N couldn’t deny it; Joey looked fucking hot.

His black hair stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed a faint red colour.

Y/N looked around the room. Everyone was too busy either talking or playing around to even pay attention to the two of them.

Smirking, she walked closer to Joey and sat down on his lap, her face facing his.

"Tonight, after you're done, I want you to fuck me," she whispered to Joey, who nearly choked on his water.

"What?" He asked, wiping his mouth and looking at Y/N.

She leaned closer to his ear, and her hand went down to his black jeans, straddling him just below the waistband.

"I said; I want you to fuck me after the show. So hard,"

Joey let out a shaky breath while one hand went to rub Y/N’s back and the other went to remove her straddling hand from his pants.

"All right! Time to get back on stage, guys!"

Joey's head shot up in the direction of the bands' manager.

"Congratulations. Now I have to go on stage with a boner," Joey said, genuinely sounding irritated as he pulled his mask on again and lifted Y/N off his lap.

She tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly swatted it away.

“No touching right now, Y/N,” Joey pointed at her and took a deep breath. “You’re fucking in for it,” Joey said through gritted teeth. She could see his eyes practically boring into her soul as he exited the room to go back on stage.

"He seemed a bit upset," Scarlett said, and Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I can't imagine why," she said, a naughty smile plastered upon her lips.

Throughout the whole show, Joey watched Y/N carefully, once in a while shaking his head in annoyance. She’d, in return, wave flirtatiously at him, blow kisses, and run her hands up and down her legs, carefully lifting her skirt up, making sure that only he would see her actions.

The band had waved their goodbyes to the hyper crowd, and before Y/N knew it, the boys were already backstage again. They all looked exhausted and drained from the concert, but not Joey. As soon as he'd entered backstage, he'd dragged Y/N by the wrist to his dressing room, the only place where there was a lock on the door.

"Forty-five minutes. For forty-fucking-five minutes, I had to perform with a boner. Do you even know how fucking frustrating that is?" Joey asked Y/N as he locked the door to his locker room and rested his forehead head against it.

"I can imagine," Y/N grinned, but Joey turned around swiftly, and Y/N noticed something about his eyes. They were...well, a bit scary.

He hadn't even had time to take off his mask before he'd rushed towards Y/N, pushed her against the wall and ripped her blouse open. She shrieked and watched as the buttons flew everywhere.

"That was my favourite shirt, Joey!" Y/N pouted.

"I'll buy you a new one," Joey shrugged and breathed against her neck. Y/N’s body jolted against his touch as his fingers made their way down her body, shivers running down her spine.

"I'm going to do exactly what you wished for," Joey whispered. Y/N gulped at his voice, her knees weak from excitement. Her hands went to the back of Joey’s head and pulled off his mask, throwing it across the room.

Her lips pouted for a kiss, and Joey happily obliged, pressing his lips against hers.

“How bad do you want it?” Joey asked against Y/N’s lips. She moaned in response, “really bad.”

The pair stumbled over to a table and Joey lifted Y/N onto it. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

His hands went to pull her shirt over her head, and he threw it away, his lips immediately attaching themselves to hers as soon as possible.

Y/N was quick to undo Joey’s belt. She didn’t care about foreplay, or the sweet romantic things they used to do. She wanted him, and it really couldn’t wait.

“Fuck me,” Y/N moaned into Joey’s ear. “Baby, I-I don’t have a condom,” he said and sighed, but nothing could retract Y/N from the state of lust she was in, not even that.

“I don’t care. You’ll figure it out,” she said and Joey chuckled nervously.

He pulled Y/N’s underwear to the side and ran his finger up and down her slit, checking to see if she was wet enough.

He slowly, but deeply pushed his way into her wet cunt and began thrusting quickly. Both parts knew, that they were short on time and they wasted no time.

Joey's face rested in the crook of Y/N’s neck and he moaned against her skin, while Y/N let her eyes roll into the back of her head, too overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Three minutes left!”

A roadie yelled from the outside and Y/N panicked, worried that there was not enough time for the both of them to finish.

“Joey, I-“

“Shhh, don’t worry about that, baby. Look at me,” Joey moaned and retracted his face from Y/N neck, looking deeply into her eyes.

An overwhelming sensation hit Y/N’s gut and she could barely focus on anything, except the pace of Joey’s thrusts, and how the paces kept switching.

“Joey, I-I think I’m gonna-“

Barely able to word out a sentence, Y/N was cut off by an orgasm so powerful, it went beyond the description of words.

When Y/N had come down from her high, Joey was quick to pull out and finish.

“Don’t ever give me a hard on right before a show again,” he warned and pointed his finger at Y/N, who put her hands up in defence.

“I’ll try!” She yelled as Joey excited the room to go and play the rest of the show.

#chris fehn #corey taylor #craig jones #james root #jim root #joey jordison imagines #slipknotimagines #slipknot x reader #slipknot fanfic #slipknot #joey jordison #mick mars #paul gray #sid wilson

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