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#slasher thoughts
sourgummibears · 6 months
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Late night thought
Thomas Hewitt wasn’t ugly
Not in the “cause the actor was hot” way but in the “he wasn’t unconventionally unattractive” way
Why?
Because I believe he had eczema
Lemme explain
Thomas Hewitt was born in rough conditions aka 1930s Texas in a dirty af slaughterhouse on the floor where his mother immediately died afterwards
In this time period, especially in Texas, they most likely haven’t seen many people with skin conditions other then in freak shows so obviously, to them, Tommy would be seen as a monster
Doesn’t help that he probably had tall genes in him plus all that farm work lead him to grow up really big which just makes him fit the image of a “monster” more
And having to grow up in a dry environment with barely any clean water and being told all the time by the people around him that he was a monster and a freak and should’ve died with his mother obviously fucked Tommy up
He most likely also picked at his sores, because in his mind he had to get ride of the parts of him that were monstrous and made him different
However, all this does is leave permanent scars that never healed right so now, even if he got treatment for his eczema, he would still be riddled with scars all over his body
I firmly believe that if Tommy had proper care for his eczema, he would’ve grown up to be a ladykiller (figuratively and literally)
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loveandmurders · 22 days
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🔪🍓Hey, I was wondering do u ever think bubba sawyer or perhaps Thomas Hewitt could bake or cook?🔪🍓
Thank you for this question :)
Bubba Sawyer is a little guy who needs someone to keep them focus. Cooking is way too much work for them, so they will probably just help with the cutting part of the meat, and that's pretty it.
However, if it's with their S/O, they will enjoy doing some baking. They have a sweet tooth, so they will keep "tasting" the preparation (be careful to make enough of it). They are very proud when the cake is all ready and happily eaten by the family 🥰
Thomas Hewitt is a docile boy who has been taught he needs to take care of his people. So it means that he knows how to cook pretty well. He kills, he gets the meat ready and he cooks it; so he knows that his family is well fed.
Thomas doesn't bake though, even though he enjoys little sweet snacks. If his S/O bakes him something, he will be over the moon because it means he is loved and cherished. Bake him something, please, the gentle giant deserves it! 🥺
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wolfish-nightmares · 2 years
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literally so addicted to the slutty slashers. yes, give jason a dump truck ass! asa with big tits and a bakery in the back, hell yeah! thomas with those beautiful double d mommy mikers, absolutely going feral! don't even get me started on pyramid head!
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I think Bo and Rusty would be very proud that I'm actually in bed before the time that I promised myself that I would go to bed.
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While we're on the topic of imagining things... Could you imagine if you were cornered by one of your favorite slashers, a hand to your throat before they delivered the hand of death.. And you accidentally moaned? In front of them? I think I would positively die.
PS. Creeper's chapter is up~
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chokech3rry · 1 year
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picking your way through a razor wire maze, or trying to find the combination to a safe out of hundreds of possibilities while naked and flammable, lighting your way with a candle barefoot on broken glass
the difference in difficulty level is ✨astronomical✨
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charliemwrites · 6 months
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Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.
Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)
(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)
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“Riiiiileyyyy.”
Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.
He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.
“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.
“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”
He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)
“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”
You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”
“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”
“Hey, I like bananas!”
He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”
You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.
“Don’t be icky, Riley.”
“Icky.”
“Gross nasty.”
“We’re name calling now?”
“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”
He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.
“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.
“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”
“Now who said you could go out?”
“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.
“I might.”
“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”
He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.
It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.
“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”
You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”
“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”
You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”
“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”
“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”
Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.
“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”
You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”
No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.
“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.
“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”
“Oh no.”
You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.
He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.
You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?
“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”
“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.
“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.
Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.
“Ah, it’s pretty late…”
“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”
Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.
“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”
Good girl.
“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”
“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”
There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.
“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.
“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”
“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”
And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.
That’s enough.
Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.
“Riley!”
Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.
“Did we wake you up?” you ask.
Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.
Very good girl.
“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.
You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.
“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”
“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.
Simon’s not playing along.
“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”
Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.
“I beg your pardon?!”
“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”
Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.
“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”
Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.
He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.
“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”
You audibly swallow, then nod.
“Thank you.”
“Good manners.”
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pathetichimbos · 8 months
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Thomas cries a lot.
He's always been sensitive, every since he was a kid. The names other kids and hell, even adults called him cut deep every time he heard them.
Idiot.
Monster.
Freak.
Tears pluck at his brown eyes harshly as the majority of the schoolyard torments him, the teachers turning blind eyes to the mistreatment, too busy making their own comments about his mother and family to intervene.
"S-Stop--!" He hiccups, hands desperately covering his face as he shakes against the metal fence, "G-Give it back!"
"Come get it, Freak!" The little boy taunts him, holding the mask Thomas' mother made for him high in the air, the group of children around him erupting in laughter.
"HEY! What the hell's goin' on over here!?" Hoyt hollers as he yanks the bully up by his wrist, the kids mocking laughter interrupted as they scatter, "What the hell's wrong with you, boy!? Did your Daddy raise you to take shit that ain't yours!?"
Hoyt plucks the mask from the kid's hand as he shakes his head, wide eyed and scared at being caught red handed.
"That's what I thought, so why don't you scatter before I give him a call and tell him what the hell you've been doin'."
"Yes, sir!" The kid darts as soon as Hoyt lets him go.
"Little shit." Hoyt mutters, kneeling down to help Thomas put his mask back on, "Now, I done told you, Tommy, you can't cry everytime one of those little bastards says some shit to you. Man up, you're too damn old for all that whinin'..."
Thomas nods, wiping the tears from his red eyes as Hoyt takes him back to the truck.
Man up...
Man up...
That's what Hoyt and Monty always told him, their words not much kinder and cutting even deeper as they picked at him everytime he cried.
Over the years the tears eventually turned to anger, and isolation. Hiding himself away from everyone and everything around him, protecting himself from from harsh world around him.
...And then there was you.
Sweet, excitable, gentle you.
"...Tommy...!" Your voice is tired and sweet, clearly having just woken up when Thomas came in the room.
He watches as you stretch, waking up a bit more as you look up at him, a small smile on your face.
He's tired. It's written on his face, eyes droopy and shoulders slumping, standing over the bed, looking down at you.
"C'mere." You reach for him, hands grasping as you gesture for him to climb in bed.
He does as he's told, climbing under the covers and into your arms, melting into your warmth as he lays on top of you.
"Mmm..." You hum, relaxing as your arms wrap around him, your hands running up and down his back, sending shivers up his spine, "...My Thomas..."
He sighs at your words, melting even further against you as your hands gain rhythm and begin rubbing his aching muscles, working up and down his shoulders and back as he buries his face in your neck.
You lean your head against his, the smell of the shampoo you bought for him filling your nose as you continue rubbing his back, "...I love you..."
The arms around your waist tighten as he presses further into you, completely engulfing you in his presence.
How?
How is it possible for you to love him so incredibly, and so deeply that he doesn't even need to hear those words to know their truth? How could you possibly break down every piece of him, every broken part and hideous truth and still make him feel like the only thing that matters in the world?
You can feel him start to shake. He's been working so hard, for so long. He's exhausted, and worn down. His body is scarred and calloused. His mind is weary and weak.
And every insult, every hit, every bad thing that he's ever gone through was worth it, if it means he can feel this loved for the rest of his life.
You feel his tears before you see them, the quiver in his shoulders, the hiccups in your ear as he tries to hold it back.
"Oh, Tommy..." You mutter, kissing his hair as you rub his back, "It's okay, sweetheart, you can cry, I've got you..."
And for the first time in a long time, he does.
He cries into your shoulder, a shaking and sobbing mess as you patiently hold him through it, running your hands through his hair and rubbing his back as you coax him.
"There we go..." You coo as he pulls back, holding his face in your hands while you kiss his tear stained cheeks, his mask long forgotten before he climbed into bed, "Do you feel better, love?"
He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he relaxes against you again, feeling more relief than he has in years.
"Good..."
...Thomas cries a lot. After years of believing he was never good enough to be loved, of believing his place was being locked away in the basement, forever shielding himself from the world that hated him, he was proven wrong by a single person who loves him more than every good thing put together.
And that thought alone brings tears to his eyes.
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justaaveragereader · 7 months
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Slashtober🔪||OT8
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Pairing: OT8 x Reader
Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: MeanDom!Ateez, Sub!Reader, Name Calling, Gang Bang, Ass Fucking, Unprotected Sex (Please Dont😀), Spanking, Spit, Tit Smacking, Breast Play, Bukkake, Dacryphilia, Oral, Cum Eating, Rough Sex, Degradation, CNC, Choking, Marking, If I Missed Anything🫣👀Lemme Know..
A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this done before 12am😵‍💫, I tried my best to get this done before midnight, bc I wanted to make sure I posted it on Halloween. I can’t believe it’s officially over now, thank you to everyone who supported me. Rather it was with a like, reblog, a comment, an ask, anything tbh. I received so much love this October and I’m grateful and appreciate to every single one of you😭💙. Also special thanks to @seonghwasbobaeyes for betaing the first half of this fic, you are muchly appreciated babes😚! This isn’t the end of the road for Slasher!Ateez👀, we will DEFINITELY be seeing them again! I’m already thinking about what I’m going to write for November tbh..😚. My asks will be opening due to October being over, so send in your requests!
Kinktober Masterlist
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Ever since your last visit with the two masked men, you had been itching, yearning for more. They left you with an undying last in your mouth. You craved them, how sinners crave sin. They were addicting, they were like a forbidden fruit.
You hadn’t heard a peep or even seen a peep of them in weeks. You had been on the lookout constantly, trying to find any trace of them. It's like your neighbors knew you were on the fence. Making sure to greet you everyday, going out of their way to make sure you were happy. They so easily picked up your emotions. It's like you bonded with every single one of them. Wanting to get into better spirits you decided to throw a small Halloween party inviting the guys from the neighborhood as a way to say thanks for all they do, and thanks for being there for you.
You were at home prepping the food when suddenly the lights went out in your home. Letting out an annoyed huff you make your way to your circuit breaker box. Walking past your bedroom you notice a figure in your room, hiding behind the wall, you try to steady your breath clearly worked up and scared by what you saw, you quietly try to creep down the hall when your lights cut back on. Wanting to see if it was your eyes playing tricks on you, or if there was someone actually in your home you slowly make your way to the bedroom. As soon as you cut the corner to your room you see one of the masked men in your bedroom, sitting on your bed, man spreading widely. Energy as heavy as stone, he sat like he owned not only your hole, he sat like he owned you, and every move you made. Getting up slowly, he walks towards you, slow long strides.
Putting his hands up on the frame of the door. His muscular body takes up the whole door frame.
“And where are you running off to, pretty girl?”
Your eyes grow big, backing away slowly, your back bumps into a hard frame behind you. Looking up you see Mingi towering over you, staring down at your helpless frame.
“Don’t you look cute in your pajamas.” Mingi says with a large smirk on his face, running his fingers over the lace trim on the bottom of your sleep shorts. Jongho walks over to you, peeling his body off of the door frame. His large frame crushes you between him and Mingi. You can barely see his eyes through the mask, yet you can feel the intensity radiating from the person beneath it.
“Wh-what’s going on…” you whisper out through a shaky breath. Gripping your hips Mingi pulls your ass against him, grinding his hard on, onto you. Jongho moves closer, his chest completely crushing you. Gripping the front of your pajama shorts he plays with the lace on them, letting his hand slowly fall to the front of them, gradually untying the ribbon that keeps them up. Loosening the shorts, they fall dangerously low on your hips.
“What do you think is going on darling?” Seonghwa says, smooth voice floating out beneath his mask, making his way into your bedroom room. He seats himself on the bed. Man spreading his legs wide open, your eyes drift over the female plastic mask he’s wearing, down to the bricked cock beneath his skin tight pants. When Jongho squishes your body even further in between him and Mingi.
“I-I don’t kn-.” Your sentence gets cut off when the other two masked men enter, the largest one of the group takes up the whole door frame, while the shorter broader one stands in front of him. With his head cocked to the side. A shiver runs up your spine. Your brain can barely process what’s going on in front of you. All you want to do is flee but it feels like your feet are cemented to the ground.
“Look at her.” Yunho says, stepping forward into the room, clearing his large stature out of the door frame. San lets out a loud chuckle, making his way towards you.
“She looks like a deer caught in headlights.” San says through a laugh, walking on the other side of you while Yunho goes on the opposite. Caging your body in by all four men, while Seonghwa sits on the small bed watching you.
“I know you guys aren’t starting the game without us.” Wooyoung whines out, walking into the room, face paint smeared across his face yet with the lack of the red lights you can see clear as day that it’s Wooyoung. Trying to strain your neck between the men who are caging you in.
“Wooyoung, what’s going on?” You whisper shout, as if the men couldn’t hear you in the same confined room. Letting out a loud laugh, he walked over, looking at your poor helpless frame. Your body does a noticeable shiver.
“Do you want me to save you?” He says through a fake coo. Yeosang stands in the doorway, leaning his muscular form against it. Looking at you behind his mask he makes his way slowly over. Pushing through the cage the boys have you in.
“No…I think she wants all of us to help her out.” He says while he runs his gloved hand up your body. Starting from your chest, running it between your breasts, settling his covered hand around your throat. It's like deja vu, you start getting various flashbacks of each time one of these men have rearranged your guts, and practically broke your spine.
“Do you need saving darling?” Seonghwa says, standing up off the bed, making his way towards you with long slow strides, the men who caged your body slowly back away, making room for Seonghwa. His tall frame easily towers over yours. Soaking you in from head to toe.
“Of course not Seonghwa she doesn’t need saving, she needs to be fucked like the slut she is.” Hongjoong says, gripping your throat pulling your body against his invisible one. Manhandling you with ease, you swear you can see every person in the room, eyes darken instantaneously.
“Is that what it is dear? You need us to bend you over and rearrange your guts?” Seonghwa says, gripping your chin lightly while Hongjoongs hand continues to hold you tightly. Letting out a small whimper your eyes dart around to every man surrounding you in this room. Your lower belly grows hot with need. Hot with want, hot with flashbacks of every orgasm you’ve had with the individuals in this room. You open your mouth, just to close it once more, not exactly sure what words you are trying to speak. But you can tell by the way they are crowding you, and the way you are drinking them all in. You want nothing more than for them to break you.
~
Wrapping your hand around Yeosangs cock, you continue to pump his dick up and down. Fist tight to make sure he gets as much pleasure as possible. Gripping your chin in his hand, San turns your face towards him, cock deep down your throat, with his other hand on the back of your head, you gag with every powerful thrust he delivers to your throat. Eyes watering with unshed tears. San lets out a loud laugh, gripping the back of your head even tighter. Slamming his hips into your mouth..
“Look at this slut crying. Go on baby, cry on my cock.” San grits out, the pleasure that your warm mouth is giving him is becoming too much. Hongjoong lines himself up with your entrance, not even giving you time to prep, he slams his cock deep into your cunt. Body driving forward your nose bumps against Sans pelvic area. Letting out a loud sadistic laugh, he starts out at a rough pace, jack hammering your body forward. Causing a quick rhythm between him and San. Your hand starts to fall slack around Yeosangs cock. Gripping your head, Yeosang turns your face towards him.
“Do it right slut.” He grits out, squeezing your cheeks so tightly that he can feel Sans cock slide in and out of your mouth.
“Stretch her out.” Seonghwa says, the heaviest presence in the room. He stands up, hard cock in his hand, he slides under you. Your breast jiggling in his face, gripping your left breast, he runs his long cool tongue over your nipple. You squeeze your eyes shut, too immersed in the pleasure.
Mingi makes his way behind Hongjoong who is hammering away at you, collecting the drool that is hitting the floor from the way San is making you choke and gag on his cock. He wets his fingers, sliding them down to your puckered hole, you let out a moan so loud that all the boys can hear you. Sliding one finger in, your eyes grow huge, tears starting to run down your face by all the pleasure you are feeling.
Gripping your face harshly San gathers all the spit in his mouth, letting it slowly drop down to his cock, hitting your lips, it aids in the drool on the floor. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of him. You can taste him in more ways than one, and it has your head clouded with nothing but hot lust.
“Such a whore who loves to be degraded.” San grits out, watching you suck him down your throat.
“Look at her crying again.” Yeosang says while your grip tightens and untightens on his cock. Mocking you through a fake coo. Letting his hand travel down, he grips the breast Seonghwa isn’t paying attention to, squeezing your nipple, just as he’s squeezing Mingi slips his second finger in your ass trying to stretch you out as much as possible. Tears are running down your face rapidly, your pussy clenches on Hongjoong, letting out a loud groan. He slams his hips up into you once more before pulling out, chest heaving up and down. Holding his orgasm back, wanting to save it to paint your body.
Wooyoung lets out a small laugh, clearly enjoying the view of you getting rag dolled all over the place, sliding into the place of Hongjoong, he taps his cock against your wet cunt, sliding his cock in between your wet pussy lips, making sure with every thrust up he nudges your clit. Pulling back San bites his lip, gripping your head even tighter trying to fight the urge to cum all over your face, he slides back letting Yunho in. Letting out a choked cough, you intake as much air as possible. Trying to catch your breath before Yunhos large frame towers over your small body.
“Look at this slut..” he says while hooking your bottom jaw with his thumb. Jongho stands behind Yunho, getting an eye full of you, tilting his head to the side almost like he’s studying you.
“Wanting to take us all..” Jongho says, continuing Yunhos sentence.
“She wants us in every way…” Mingi finishes after Jongho speaks.
Moving on the side of your body, Mingi pulls his fingers out, feeling like you’ve been stretched enough, he lets Seonghwa know that you are prepped and ready for whatever he is ready to give you. Sliding out from under you, Wooyoung and Seonghwa trade spots. With his wet fingers Mingi slowly strokes his cock while Seonghwa slides in between your wet cunt. Making sure that he soaks his cock with your juices that are practically pouring down, he lines himself up with your puckered hole. Sliding in slowly, inch my inch. Your eyes scrunch shut, the feeling of him sliding in your ass is unlike any other feeling you’ve ever felt. You grip Yunhos thighs for stability, just as you are about to let out the loudest moan, Yunho slides his cock into your mouth, instantly stuffing it. Wooyoung lines himself up with your sopping cunt that is dripping down onto his cock, your arousal just leaking all over him. Yeosang and Jongho stand on opposite sides of you, large bodies towering over your frame. Bunching your eyes shut, Wooyoung slides easily into your pussy. Shooting your eyes open you let out a loud, muffled moan. Placing your hands out, trying your best to find your balance while Seonghwa is fucking your ass, Wooyoung is deep in your cunt, while Yunhos large cock is deep down your throat.
Gripping Yeosangs and Jonghos cock in your hand, you slowly start to pump them, making sure to pay extra attention to the head of their cocks. With each stroke the members are giving you, you are seeing heaven behind your eyes, Seonghwa continuously slaps your ass cheeks while he strokes deep in your puckered hole, watching your ass cheek welt with each deep stroke he delivers to you. Wooyoungs balls are dripping with your arousal, inner thighs shining with your juices. While Yunho grips the sides of your face, making sure you take his cock as far as your small throat will let him.
San, Mingi, and Hongjoongs degradation fill your ears. Making you on the brink of the most powerful orgasm.
“Look at this hungry cock slut.” Hongjoong says, slowly stroking his cock, watching everyone have their turn with you.
“Look at her crying over how good all of our cocks are…” Mingi grits out, grabbing his balls while he beats his cock. Making sure to collect the drool that leaves your mouth on his hands so he can stroke himself with ease.
“Nothing but a cock sleeve for all of us.” San says with his head tilted back, stroking himself, matching the rhythm at which they all are fucking you.
Mingi makes his way over to Seonghwa, watching the way his cock slides in and out of your ass. Gripping one cheek so it’s easier for Seonghwa to get a feel of your warm wet hole. He gathers the spit in his mouth letting it drop onto your puckered hole. The cool sensation differs from the warmth of Seonghwas length sliding in and out of you. Hongjoong lets out a small chuckle at the way you whine every time someone spits on you, he makes his way towards Yunho, holding the sides of your throat, giving it a slight squeeze your breathing stutters, with his hands tightening around you throat he can feel Yunho slide in and out, the feeling is delicious, the lack of oxygen heats your body up.
Wooyoung reaches up, squeezing one of your tits in his hand while he strokes his cock in and out of your warm walls. Giving your nipple a pinch, you let out a muffled whine. Reeling his hand back he slaps your tit, the sudden feeling of the impact causes your jaw to drop, eyes fluttering in immense pleasure. He lets out a high pitched laugh, slapping your other tit, you feel the skin of your breast heat up with each heavy slap. The warmth that spreads through your body, has your toes clenching, you feel your orgasm charging its way through your body. Before you can get yours, Seonghwa is going to make sure all of them get theirs.
“You know what she’s only good for..” Seonghwa spits out through clenched teeth, pulling back swiftly, Wooyoung, and Yunho pull back as well. Urging you to sit on your knees with your mouth open. The members gather around you, stroking their cocks rapidly. With a loud groan, all of them cum almost in sync. Opening your mouth last minute you have drool running down your chest, with your tongue sticking out, trying to catch as much of their cum on your tongue as you can.
“This whore is only good for catching cum.” Seonghwa pants out. As they watch their cum drip down your body, it pools right between your legs, creating a small puddle. Letting out a low growl, Seonghwa moves forward first. Gripping the back of your throat he shoves you face down into the floor.
Running his hands down your back, he hikes your hips up into the air, your sticky chest comes in contact with the floor, creating a tacky feeling on your skin.
Cock already brick hard again, he taps it against your puckered hole, slipping in with ease once again. You let out a loud cry, throat sore from all the throat fucking you still let out loud moans with each buck of Seonghwas hips. Making his way over swiftly Mingi grabs your shoulders, lifting you up so your back is flush against Seonghwas chest, he lays down cock standing straight up, maneuvering you Mingi brings you down on his cock with the aid of Seonghwa. Letting out a loud cry once more your body falls forward, becoming chest to chest with Mingi. Gripping your neck Seonghwa pulls you back up, fingers tightly wrapping around your throat, destined to leave marks.
Wooyoung and Yeosang stand on opposite sides of your body, gripping your breast, before giving your chest a firm slap. Your body jolts forward, yet with Seonghwas tight grip on your throat you go nowhere. All the other members make their way towards you with their heavy, cum dripping cocks in their hands.
“You are going to be a good girl, and take all of our cum.” Seonghwa grunts into your ear before hiking his hips forward, biting your lip, you nod your head. Chest heaving with want. Mingi lets out a deep groan..
“Fuckkkkk…she’s dripping down my cock. Are you going to make a mess on our cocks, princess?” Adjusting his hips slightly, Mingi hikes his hips up into yours. Gripping your ass cheeks so you are spread even further for Seonghwa. The members step closer to you both.
“You are going to swallow all of their cum, then you are going to take our cum in this tight ass, and wet cunt of yours.” Seonghwa says knowingly, letting out a loud whimper by the authority in Seonghwas voice you nod as much as you can with his fingers still tightly wrapped around your throat.
Giving your ass a hard slap, Mingi jiggles the cheeks of your ass.
“Alright princess, who do you want to swallow first?”
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Dividers and GIF @justaaveragereader
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blueberryarchive · 1 month
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i want reader to call him again...please
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𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙧!𝙟𝙠
previously on steph's house // later at the game...
tw: mentions of non-con
You've always heard men talk about having called at least once in their life to have sex on the phone. They usually called in groups, mutual support or stupidity, you didn't know which it was.
You knew you always wanted to know how those women could have such rich, soft and daring voices. Even when they laughed it seemed like a well-rehearsed choreography and at the end they said your name as if they knew you down to your bones. You wanted that gift, you would pay for that gift.
Now much more than ever. Or maybe you would like to know how to make another decision as daring as taking the phone from the living room again and hiding it in the bathroom at Steph's house. The girls sleeping upstairs. You should probably go back to bed.
How dare you? You have a boyfriend, for God's sake. And not only that, but with this idiot? You could feel Steph's gaze on the back of your neck, judging your finger to make the final turn.
555-5662
The buzzing is the same, the heavy lump in your throat is not. You knew what awaited you on the other side of the line, it was cruel and disgusting; but you were lying if you said you didn't need to listen a little more.
In the silent night, in the darkness of the chick-yellow bathroom, shame haunts you, warming your ears, your hands on the phone when the soft click was heard on the other side.
"Mm." Was his response, silence was yours. What the hell had you done, were you crazy?
"Fuck," he laughed lowly, "not you again."
"Do you really play?"
"I'm on the team, if that's what you want to know. But I don't think you're adding numbers to your phone bill to ask so much shit, am I wrong?"
You let your forehead cool on the tiles on the wall, is he wrong?
"God, if I had you in front of me…” Jungkook sighed and your heart skipped a beat.
"What?"
"I would force your mouth open to see if you learn to answer people when they talk to you."
"Do you always have music on when you sleep?"
"Are you always such an annoying cunt?"
Your chest burns, your eyes sting.
"You probably have a boyfriend, you all have a lapdog behind you so you don't get bored."
"Please. My boyfriend can kick your ass." You responded quickly, letting the burning spread like burning garbage.
"Are you, then?"
"What?"
"Are you so bored that you have to call the weirdo from college."
"I don't even know why they consider you weird."
This time the laughter was genuine, stupid popular girl, didn't know what she was getting into.
"You would have noticed a while ago if you were in front of me."
"Are you missing teeth or something?" You laughed, chewing on your nails.
"I'd have you bend over with your head on the ground while I split that pussy in two. You'll probably be crying and your little pussy bleeding from the dryness."
"What if I don't want to?" And you cursed yourself for having hesitated, your callgirl career looked even further away.
"Who said anything about wanting?"
And there it was, the heavy knot tied lower, down your stomach to your legs.
"That's illegal."
"Shut up and put your hand between your legs." He interrupted. The smell of detergent was so strong all of a sudden, you looked at your pathetic reflection in the sink mirror.
"You're sick."
"And you're an insignificant whore who calls me at 4 in the morning to listen to my voice and touch herself. Wanting me to tell her exactly what she wants." The stranger growled under his breath. "You're all so spoiled and pathetic, you disgust me."
"Fuck you." Your wet cheeks started to bother you.
Silence, his laughter was lethal, hoarse from hours of interrupted sleep.
"Don't let me find out who you are, callgirl. You gonna' regret it."
Your eyes opened, the darkness and silence were no longer your allies, they now seemed to engulf you. Click, the unbearable tone torturing your ear.
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colacherry1999 · 22 days
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꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱
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me with billy, stu, ethan and roman
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sourgummibears · 1 year
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Normalize calling slashers losers
Not in the “poor little meow meow” way but in the elementary school playground bully
Point and laugh as a mob at slashers doing anything to remind them that they’re lame and a virgin and have no bitches
Imagine being a slasher? Crinnnge
Imagine killing people? Crinnnnnnnge
Omg you torture people and turn them into drugged up zombies? Laaaaaame also you look like a warm wet sock so fuck you
Omg you basically don’t die no matter how many times you’ve been shot? LMAO WHAT A PUSSY
School yard bullying: Giving slashers self esteem issues since forever <3
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loveandmurders · 9 months
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I can't stop thinking about the song What could have been by Sting.
It happens to perfectly describe Trudy and Bo's relationship.
I am the monster you created
You ripped out all my parts
And worst of all, for me to live
I gotta kill the part of me that saw
That I needed you more
I can't imagine the trauma behind the way Vincent and Bo got physically seperated by Victor. But in a way, Bo is the one who suffered the less, compared to what happened to Vincent's face.
I can't imagine the guilt Bo feels every day though, even if it is not his fault. Deep down, he knows it. Trudy knew it too, but she still never loved him.
She couldn't, even if she would have tried.
She made him angry, she broke him physically and emotionally over and over again, until there was nothing left but a sadistic and violent man.
Even if Bo would have tried to get away from the murders, he couldn't. It was too late, it was his fate, it was what his mother made of him.
And even if he was aware Trudy never loved him, he still safely kept her body inside the church and replayed her funeral over and over again. It may be an attempt to get free from her, to finally let her go and to not desire her love anymore. Or it may be just like when you scratch an old wound and you make it bleed again. He knows he needs her, but he lost her forever and even if she was still alive, even if she could see everything he is doing for her and for her project, she couldn't love him.
Because she didn't have it in her.
And he knows it.
I hope you know we had everything
When you broke me and left these pieces
I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and
I want you to lose like I lose when I play what could have been
Oh, what could have been
They could have been a happy family despite everything.
Vincent was the little artist, Bo could have been the responsible big brother and he could have helped the family. Lester could have brought so much light and joy in the family too.
But Victor and Trudy didn't have it in them to be good, even less to be good parents. Their love was toxic and selfish. Maybe they loved each other, but Trudy certainly only loved her art.
More than once Bo cursed his parents, his mother. He just wanted to be loved, he just wanted to be part of something. He was jealous of Vincent, of course. But at the same time, he loved his twin too much and Vincent had always been there for him.
Bo's anger was directed toward his mother. The pain was (and still is) unbearable. He could imagine how life could have been. When she died, he wondered if it wasn't his own hatred and violence who killed her. Maybe everything he felt turned into a disease and destroyed her body like she destroyed him.
Maybe it was her own hatred and violence who killed herself, but Bo never thought about it, because things were always his fault.
In the end, she died and Bo killed Victor.
No one won, and everyone lost.
Why don’t you love who I am?
What we could have been
He used to scream at her, to threaten her, to try and beat her. When he grew up things went worst and even Victor had issues fighting him off. Truth to be told, Bo would have never hurt Trudy. He just needed her to see how hurt he was.
But she didn't care.
Now, every day, he goes seeing her at the church, asking her why she couldn't love him. Everything could have been so much happier, if she had at least been able to pretend. He could have even been a better person. Truth to be told, he didn't particularly enjoy the killing, he just didn't believe he deserved a better life.
His mother told him too many times he was a monster, so it had to be true.
And he loved her so much.
I am your ghost, a fallen angel
You ripped out all my parts
I couldn’t care what invention you made me
'Cause I, I was meant to be yours
And because the boys loved her, worshipped her, they couldn't let go of her work. Vincent didn't want to leave because of his face and because he had to keep going her art. Bo didn't want to leave because he couldn't let go of Vincent and because he wanted his mamma to be proud of him, wherever she was (probably in Hell). Lester left but came back everyday for his big brothers. Trudy never loved Lester either, but she never hurt him, because she didn't care about him at all.
She hated Bo because he was a monster just like her, because she could see her own sins in him, because she could see herself in him. And she hated herself and she hated this stupid and pathetic life she had. She had always wanted more, she wanted to be famous and that was why she forced Vincent to promise him he would keep going her legacy.
She hated her life, but she was scared to die.
And she died painfully.
Vincent cried, Bo didn't but shattered even more, Lester was lost.
Victor went even more insane.
Funny how a woman who had no love was adored by the four men in her life. Such a waste.
I hope you know we had everything
When you broke me and left these pieces
I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and
I want you to lose like I lose when I play
In the very end, Bo and Vincent die in the House of Wax. Vincent hugs Bo and puts his face where it used to be in their mother's womb. It could have been the metaphor of a new beginning in a better life, but it is just Vincent looking for comfort as he loses everything.
They die because they spent their life wanting to please a woman who broke them; they even die inside of Trudy's legacy. All her creations are gone now, even her boys.
Lester is left alone once again, as if even death forgot about him. He may be lost, but he is the only one who has the chance to get free from this past.
With a bit of luck, Bo and Vincent will never find Trudy in Hell.
Despite everything, they still deserve better.
I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and
I want you to lose like I lose when I play
What could have been
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y3strr · 6 months
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Me, fully convinced that the slashers wouldn’t kill me bc I’m basically Y/N
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whorrorfix · 27 days
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what i’d give to see stu jerk off while billy holds a knife to his throat. both covered in blood. billy talking him through it, degrading and praising him. telling him he’s such a good boy through his teeth and pressing the knife harder onto his skin. calling him a pathetic slut as stu’s breath gets heavier, brain getting fuzzier as he’s begging billy not to stop <33
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Part 9 of Charmed Slasher Simon
(CW: this is all basically noncon. Like, yeah they had a “deal” but it’s not like it was agreed on in good faith ya know? Stay safe while reading, please, and let me know if this warning needs to be more descriptive)
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You shake as Simon trails his fingers absently along your tummy, amused by the way it twitches, tickling and frightened in equal measures. So much he wants to do to you, but only so much you’ll be able to take for this first little triste.
Besides, though not long for this world, there’s only so much he wants that little worm to see of you.
“You ever spend so long fantasizing about something that when the moment finally comes, you’re just spoiled for options?” he muses aloud, pinching your nipples through your thin shirt. He can hear the high pitched noises trapped in the back of your throat, tsks at the denial.
“I’m usually a decisive man, you know that, sunshine. But all the things I want to do to you…”
You squirm when he pinches a bit harder, adding a little twist. He shuffles his knee between your thighs and pulls you back, making you grind against his thigh with every involuntary twitch and shudder.
“Could bruise this pretty ass for running out into the snow like that, reckless thing.” You jolt when he palms the plush fat of one cheek. “Or I could just torture your tight little hole. Leave that pretty pussy aching…”
You make a noise like a sob as his thumb rubs through the layers of your pants and underwear. You try to lean away but he’s got such a tight grip on your wrists that all it does is arch your back.
He inches his fingers over the crest of your hip again, dips back to your swollen clit and soaked cunt. Hell, you’re even wetter than before, a sticky line running down your thigh, fabric clinging to overheated skin. He groans against your throat, has to see it for himself.
You try to protest as he yanks your waistbands down to mid thigh, but he quiets you with those same two fingers stuff in your mouth, teeth scraping his knuckles. You nearly gag as he pets the back of your tongue, imagines how it’ll feel against the fat head of his cock.
In the firelight, you’re gleaming, something out of a fever dream. He leans you back farther and forces your legs wider with his own, lets the heat caress at the insides of your thighs, the creamy slick webbing between your lips.
“Fuck, maybe I should just play with this, huh?” He rasps. “Watched you do it so many times. You don’t know how to edge yourself properly, luv. Always let yourself give in too soon.”
You make a startled noise, huge, watery eyes finding his. He chuckles at the mortified question in them, teases his fingertips over your slit.
“Yeah, sunshine. I watched you fuck this pretty pussy, cryin’ ‘n pleadin’ for me,” he purrs in your ear. “Took everythin’ in me to let you have your fun, to keep from showin’ you how it’s done…”
He circles a finger over your clit, a barely-there brush that makes your pretty wet lashes flutter. Over and over, watches that flush bloom steadily over your face, down your neck. The haze glossing over your eyes.
“How about that, hm? We’ll start from the beginning and work our way through my list.”
He slips his fingers from your mouth, watches you lick unconsciously at the taste of him lingering on your lips.
“Y-you’re not gonna…?”
He tilts his head, narrows his eyes. Fills in the blanks and can’t help growling.
“Oh, you want me to hurt you, is that it?” he asks. “You want - no, you need an excuse to hate me. You’re hoping I tear you up so that you have an easy out for all these confusing feelings.”
You try to babble out a denial but the shock in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs. He tamps down his anger by dragging his teeth along your neck, working a dark mark into the skin.
You don’t know any better, he reminds himself. But you will.
“Don’t you worry, luv, there will be plenty of punishment for you,” he rumbles. “But you’re going to beg me for it.”
You open your mouth, maybe to deny it, but he pinches your sensitive little clit between two fingers and revels in the way you squeal.
He instantly soothes the ache with gentle circles, trailing kisses along your jaw. Tastes fresh salt on your skin.
“Best save your tears, precious,” he warns, smirking. “You’ll need them.”
He parts your lips with two fingers, leaving you open and exposed, groaning through his teeth at the sight of you. Wet and swollen, so needy for him. You try to buck away when he rubs a finger over your clit, firm strokes up and down.
“If you don’t stay still and take it like a good girl, I’ll tie you down and make you be a good girl.”
You duck your chin, eyes squeezed miserably shut as you try to lock down your body. It’s ridiculously endearing, how you wiggle and then catch yourself, breath hitching as you wait for him to lose patience. He hums whenever you start getting to squirmy, delights in the way you shiver and sink your teeth into your lip. Settle down only for him to change the tempo or the pattern and ruin all your self control.
He amuses himself drawing patterns all over your pulsing clit - circles and stars. Hearts that make your eyes roll back in your head. Zig zags from your weeping hole up to the very top of your slit.
It takes a while for you to truly approach your orgasm with the way he denies you a proper rhythm to build on. But he notices the moment you finally start to reach that peak, not even his reminder to hold still can keep you from twitching and rocking, helpless little jolts of your hips.
He coos. “So desperate to finish. Is it because you think I’ll be done with you once you do?”
You don’t answer, too busy trying to get more friction, more pressure. He lets you rush right up to the edge and then stops, skipping down to circle your hole. Luxuriates in the fresh flood of wetness coating your thighs. It yanks you back like a dog on a leash, your orgasm right there but just out of reach.
You don’t even seem to realize what’s happened for a second, mouth hanging open and a cute little furrow between your brow. When he chuckles, teasing up to that sensitive bundle of nerves again, it seems to click. You shoot him a dismayed look, the most precious hint of betrayal lurking in your glassy irises.
“N-no…” you nearly beg.
He smirks, nips at your puffy bottom lip. “You can say no if you like. Or even stop. We had a deal, though, didn’t we?”
“R-Riley…”
You scream when he spanks your pussy. Not nearly as hard as he craves, but it sends pretty streamers of tears down your hot cheeks. Another, two fingers directly to your clit. You nearly crumple, only his hold on your wrists keeping you upright.
“My real name, sunshine, or I’ll give you a reason to say no,” he warns.
“S-Simon,” you whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
He shushes you, petting apologetically at your throbbing core.
“I know, luv, I know. But you’ll never learn if I don’t teach you right.”
The tears don’t stop as he drags you right up to the edge again, bullying through the lingering sting of getting spanked with overwhelming pleasure. When he pulls back a second time, you start up the “no’s” again, voice shattered into pathetic little pieces.
“That’s alright,” he murmurs, “say whatever you need to get you through, I won’t be mad.”
He gets you so so close once again, cock twitching against your ass as it grinds back against him. But he lightens his touch, not stopping but not letting you fall, easing the pressure up and up and up until even the slightest graze would break you.
Instead, he pulls away entirely to squeeze at the plush of your thighs and hips, cooing over the way they shake for him.
“Simon,” you sob, tucking into his chest. He slows his touches, watching you try to curl into him, chest burning with something bloodier than love. “Simon, please. It hurts.”
He hums, sliding his hand back up to your pussy, massaging your labia. Careful not to touch your needy clit.
“It hurts, hm?” he croons, unable to keep the mean pleasure from his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to. Where does it hurt?”
You hiccup, sniffle. “M-my… my…”
“Tell me, sunshine, or I can’t make it better.”
You fold a bit, bounce, almost like a tantrum. So out of control on sensation and emotion that you can’t keep it together as you form the words.
“M-my pussy. It — I need…”
He hums again, fingers trailing down to your hole. Teases his finger at your entrance and feels it spasming around nothing.
“So empty,” he breathes. “Is that it, luv? Your little cunt is aching to be filled?”
You shudder on a cry but nod, face hidden against his neck. He lets you, far too endeared by your attempts to find comfort from the man torturing you in the first place.
“Hurts,” you repeat.
“Do you hate me yet?” he mocks.
You keen softly. “Y-yes.”
A tap to your clit again. If you weren’t so strung out you’d probably even find it pleasurable but right now it makes you writhe and beg him to stop.
“Dont lie,” he warns, voice low, “where are my good girl’s manners?”
“‘M sorry,” you whine.
“One more time now - do you hate me yet?”
Your words seem to get caught up in your throat so you shake your head. Hes tempted - so, so tempted - to make you admit it aloud. But he doesn’t want to be too mean, not yet.
“Good girl,” he whispers, “that’s my girl. You want me to make you feel better now?”
You sniffle again, lean back into him a bit more. “Please.”
“There we go,” he praises, “nice and polite. I’ll take care of you, luv.”
Your body is so ready that it’s nothing for him to slide a finger into you, slick already running down his palm.
“N-no no,” you mumble.
“No what? I’m making you feel better.”
“‘S not — need more. Please, please, Simon.”
It’s hearing his real name in your small, reedy voice that finally appeals to what little mercy he has. He fits two fingers into your cunt and curves them to rub your silky walls.
“Fuck, you’re tight, sunshine,” he groans through his teeth. “You’re gonna choke my cock.”
You squeal as he starts rocking his hand, fucking you at an easy pace, getting you accustomed to the new stimulation. Starts building up your orgasm again, piece by moaning piece, finding every spot that makes your back bow with pleasure.
“Please, please, lemme cum this time Simon, I’ll be good, I promise.”
He huffs in amusement, caressing his thumb over your crossed wrists.
“Oh baby, you don’t have a choice.”
He flattens his palm against your core and pumps his fingers faster, harder. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit with each twitch of his wrist. You get tighter and tighter, voice pitching up and up, until your entire body goes taut, walls clamping down almost painfully.
He strokes you through it, brutal and relentless until you’re screaming at him to stop. That it’s too much. He releases your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat, obsessed with how delicate it feels in his palm. Just the slightest squeeze of his fingers and your eyes roll back. The second orgasm gushes from your abused cunt, all over his wrist and your thighs, dripping puddles onto the carpet.
He loosens his hold slowly, work you over through it, feeling you squeeze and pulse with aftershocks.
When he glances at your pretty, flushed, and tear-stained face, your eyes are shut. Out cold.
He chuckles and gently lays you out closer to the fire, grabs a pillow from a nearby chair to set under your head. Lingers for a moment, rubbing over your back, massaging gently at your shoulders. Your wrists are already bruising.
Then a muffled noise calls his attention.
Brandon.
“Now the second half of the deal.”
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