#f1nalboys writing

[f1nalboys]

Gotcha Something - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!GN!Reader

something short and sweet! happy valentines day guys! enjoy this thing ive been cooking up for a bit and failed at the execution <3

WORD COUNT: 1513

WARNINGS: nice gift gone sexual fr, bo is a perv but hes OUR perv, photos of reader in sexual situations, brief descriptions of wounds and past abuse from bo, stockholm syndrome is our readers defualt setting now, reader has the same scars as bo, bo calls reader his 'girl' but no genitals are mentioned. some nsfw photos and a hint of recorded sex but nothing actually graphic. slight somno mention in one photo. mostly proofread but hey im just a guy

“Happy Valentine's Day, darlin.” Bo places the package onto your lap, sinking down onto the couch beside you. You glance at him with a cocked eyebrow and he grins, something sinister hidden underneath the charming exterior. “What? You ain’t expect me to getcha something?” He asks, placing a large hand over his heart, tsking at you. “You’re my girl, remember?”

He purrs into your ear, the springs of the couch creaking with his shifting weight. He taps the package with his fingers and sits back, waiting. You pick the gift up carefully, letting out a hum at the weight of it. “You wrapped it in newspaper?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your voice, and he snorts, shrugging. “Did a pretty good job, honestly.”

He watches you with an amused expression as you carefully untape the package, pulling the leatherbound photo album out with an awe-filled gasp. “I do good?” He asks you smugly as you fawn over the barely-decorated cover, fingers brushing over the black sharpie. ‘You and I through pictures’ was written in his familiar scrawl, all capital. “Fixed up that old camera I had, been taking photos. Figured I should put it to use.”

“I love it already.” You say and you mean it, you do. You can’t quite remember the time before him, before Ambrose and the suffocating walls of the garage and his house. Leaning over and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you look back down at the photobook with a small smile. Flipping it open to the first page you gasp, the smile falling as you stare down at the first photo.

It was a polaroid of you. Taken from behind in the garage, you look at yourself looking at the wall of fan belts, one hand down by your thigh, the other reaching upwards to grab one of them. Whoever had taken this photo, Bo you assume, had been hiding from you, the camera taken at a lower angle, the corner of the counter in the bottom left of the frame. Your eyes drag down to the scrawled message just below the photo. 

“July 17 ‘20. First Time Meeting.” 

“You looked so fuckin’ sexy that day.” Bo whispers, his arm sliding across your shoulder to bring you a little closer to him. You keep looking at the photo. “Knew I had to have you. You remember that?”

You nod your head slightly. “Mostly. It’s hard to remember anything before the garage.” You admit, looking at him. His smile falters, his jaw setting, and you’re quick to continue talking, a flash of panic in your chest. “But I remember meeting you! Your smile, your charm, you know?” You say, forcing a smile, eyes searching his. “I thought you were so cute, I just needed your help to make a move, right?”

“That’s right.” He says, and your shoulders dip as you breathe out in relief. You look back at the photo album, letting your finger trail down your frame in the photo. “Glad you broke when you did,” he purrs into your ear, his hand on your upper arm squeezing tightly for a moment. “That way I got to keep ‘ya. Would’ve been such a waste otherwise.” You hum, agreeing with him. Of course you agreed. Before Bo, you had too many opinions, too many thoughts in your head. He helped you realize your place wasn’t out there in the world, dealing with the headaches of everyday bullshit, it wasn’t here by Bo’s side, helping him get through the day and letting him put up with you. “Keep goin’.” 

He sounds excited, leaning forwards to grab his pack of cigs and lighter from the coffee table, lighting one and taking a puff as he watches you flip to the next page. This photo is dated a day later, but the photo makes you wince. You were strapped to the chair in the garage, your face cut to hell, duct tape over your mouth, your eyes filled with tears and fear. You can barely make out the red and raw skin on your wrists and ankles due to the grain and you let out a shaky breath when Bo’s fingers lovingly run along your wrists, the warped skin warm to his touch. 

You glance up at him and see his eyes transfixed onto your wrists, a pleased smile on his lips. “You used to cry for so long,” He whispers, pressing his thumb against the scar, the cigarette dangling from his lip. “In the beginning. Used to piss me off, kinda like a dog whinin’.” He chuckles, finally letting go of your wrist. “Kinda turned me on, though. Hearin’ you beggin’ me to let you go, to undo your wrists…” 

“Yeah, I know it turned you on,” you say with a slight laugh, tapping the next photo, dated a month and a half later. “See? You even wrote ‘Our First Time’ on it.” This photo does bring a smile to your face. Your face is covered by your hands, dried blood on your wrists, your legs spread wide for him. Your shirt hung off your shoulders and if you think hard enough you can hear the sound of his knife cutting through the fabric. Bo’s jean clad legs could be seen in the bottom of the frame where he was positioned in between your legs. They were unbuttoned and showed off his freckled stomach and the thick line of hair that disappeared under his boxers. 

He had been surprisingly gentle that night, lighting the melted down candles and playing jazz on the stereo upstairs. Bo had laid you down on the dirty mattress, his eyes taking in every single inch of your body, his grip only tightening when you attempted to cover yourself. It had been the turning point for you in some strange way, seeing that side of him. It made you realize that he had been telling the truth; you did love him. 

“Still just as tight,” he says, his attempt at a compliment as he takes control of flipping through the album. Each photo causes you to blush harder, squirm in your seat. A photo of his cock inside you, bruise marks on your thighs. Another showed you on your stomach, wrists held back by his belt, hand prints on your ass. You strapped to the chair with a smile on your face and a fresh cut on your cheek. You looking up at the camera through your eyelashes and a pleading look. A photo of you sleeping and his cock pressed between your lips.

And those were just the photos where you were mostly aware of the camera. 

The end of the photo album had three photos to a page, a quickly scrawled date and word next to each one. The photo of you in the kitchen wearing Bo’s button up shirt at the stove was captioned ‘10/13/21. Cooking.’ The one of you asleep in Bo’s bed was captioned ‘11/08/21. Sleeping.’  You fixing up Bo’s mechanics uniform, 12/23/21. Sewing. You reading a book on the couch, 1/02/22. Relaxing. You with Vincent and Lester at the kitchen playing a boardgame surrounded with pizza and beer, 5/28/22. Game Night. You hunched over a cake with your tongue poking out and a piping bag in hand taken from the hallway, 9/18/22. My Birthday.

“You really took all these?” You ask, glancing at him. He seems a little bashful now, his cigarette smoked down to a stub for once. He shrugs, putting the cigarette out onto the ashtray and settling back against the couch. “I love it, Bo.” You say, your voice cracking slightly. “This was sweet.”

“Yeah, well… figured you deserved it.” He says with a roll of his eyes, eyeing you carefully. Sure, some of the photos were perverted, and it chronicled exactly what he put you through in the very beginning, but it showed that he had planned to keep you from the very beginning. You give him a quick kiss, deepening it by placing your hand on his chest. “Really loved it, huh?” Bo teases, kissing you back. He gives you a sideways smirk when you move to straddle him, his hands instantly resting on your hips.

You fiddle with the top button of his shirt, biting back your own pleased grin. “For your gift, I was thinking…” Bo cocks an eyebrow at you as you trail off before you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Maybe you can get that camcorder from Vinny and use it tonight? Whatever you want?”

“Whatever I want?” He asks, amused, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. His eyes are dark. “Guess I need to do sappy shit for ‘ya more often then if it gets ‘ya like this for me.” He grabs your hand, bringing your wrist to his lips quickly before he’s gently pushing you off of him. “Get on to the bedroom. Don’t think about takin’ those clothes off; I want the camera to see it all, darlin’.”

#f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys works #bo sinclair #house of wax #slashers #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #valentines day fic #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher x y/n #house of wax 2005

[castieltrash1]

soft domming officer K WHO SAID THAT????? i did. sorry.

switch!officer k x gn human!reader; smut, established relationship, handjob, slight orgasm denial/edging, me adding too many world-building details ♡

It’s always cold -- perpetually raining, in fact -- and the makeshift Moebius complex heaters are notoriously shoddy, but it’s the warmth of your touch, its stark contrast to the biting chill of K’s apartment, that makes him shiver. He can feel something hot brewing inside him as your fingers bypass the hem of his shirt, intent on taking it off even though he’s just put it on. Most of the time he doesn’t bother redressing at all after his shower, but work had been tiring and he knew he didn’t have the energy to take care of you the way he normally enjoyed doing. 

“Sweetheart,” K murmurs, his calloused hand grabbing your wrist. Your eyes flicker to meet his, and where he expects disappointment, he finds gentle understanding instead. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, jaw tensing a bit as a wave of guilt washes over him.

“Can I help you relax?” you ask, not moving but not pulling away either. “I was just gonna focus on you, that’s all.” It’s an odd statement, one K has to replay in his head a few times before it makes sense. He’s not entirely sure what being on this side of the equation entails. He, and all the other replicants, were built to service in one way or another, and the idea of a human actively pleasing him feels wrong. Suspicion gnaws at his gut and he almost tears himself away from you entirely.

“Please, K?” Your soft words are paired with a gentle kiss to the scruffy part under his ear, and he remembers the first time you told him he was more to you than just a Nexus-9 model. He was real, in all the ways that mattered. To you, at least. 

He finally nods, swallowing heavily when, instead of resuming your path up his stomach, your fingertips breach the waistband of his pants. Your other hand busies itself undoing the button and zipper at the front, and K can feel your smile against him when you notice he’s already half hard. It never takes long for him to get aroused, and by the time you wrap your fingers around him, he’s pulsing against your palm. 

Part of a moan escapes his mouth before K bites down on his bottom lip, stifling the unexpected sound. He only lets go when you lean in, his eyes fluttering shut as you draw your tongue over the fresh indents in his rosy skin. For a split second, K’s glad you can’t see the flush steadily spreading across his cheeks, but the thought becomes a distant memory when the sweet taste of you hits him, and he reaches up to grab your jaw and move you closer. At first, you eagerly match his movements, tilting your head to ease the glide of your lips against his, but then you’re pulling back, and K’s groan of disappointment is far from quiet.

“Shh.” His brows furrow and all he can do is stare at the swollen and glossy state of your mouth, which he imagines somewhat mirrors his own. He faintly wonders if the disheveled sight of him pleases you the way yours does him. It must, since soon you’re lowering your head and letting a line of spit drip until it connects to his cock, gathering on the tip before gravity pulls it down the rest of his shaft. K’s breath hitches at the sensation, body stilling as your hand resumes its earlier motion with half the friction. “Better?” you murmur, making sure to twist your wrist a little with each stroke.

Besides a shuddering exhale, K remains quiet, immediately pulling you back into a kiss. You’d planned on talking him through this with some reassuring praise, but he doesn’t let you inch away for anything more than a quick inhale, barely remembering your need to breathe with the eagerness he has to feel your mouth on his. You do your best to blindly please him, squeezing the base of his cock and rolling your palm against the tip with every few strokes, but the rest of your touches are languid and met with slow rocks of K’s hips. 

He knows sex doesn’t have to mean anything, not every time, at least, but in moments like these, he understands why some call it a connection. A fusing of bodies and souls. For once, he’s not sure where imitation ends and real begins.

Your rhythm steadies and you increase your pace little by little, working K closer to the edge. You’ve watched and felt him cum enough times to recognize when he’s close and, with his fingertips digging into the back of your neck and his cock twitching in your hand, it’s no surprise when he pulls away to shakily tell you. “Gonna cum,” K grunts, and you brush his nose with yours, slowing your movements until they halt completely.

“Hold it,” you breathe, fingers wrapped around the thickest part of him. While you expect a verbal objection or groan of disapproval, K doesn’t speak or move, with silent obedience underlying both. He waits for what feels like minutes but is only seconds before your fingers drag back up his spit-slick skin. “There you go, baby,” you soothe, feeling him immediately thrust needily into your open palm. “Let it out, it’s okay.”

You barely reach the head of his cock before he cums with a soft moan, dripping over the back of your palm in thick white pulses. His orgasm sears over his body and he clings even more desperately to you as you ease him through it, kissing the side of his face and slowing the motion of your hand until it ceases entirely. Even then, you don’t pull back just yet, humming softly to yourself as K catches his breath, the splotchy color in his face evening out.

“Better?” you repeat, and K doesn’t need to open his eyes to see the smug smile on your face.

“Much.”

gosling sleepover sunday

#officer k x reader #blade runner 2049 smut #officer k smut #officer k #ryan gosling #blade runner 2049 #t: writing #mutuals: f1nalboys #answered

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Bex. Bex, Bex, Bex!!!!! When I saw your requests were open I nearly lost my mind <3

So, Buddy and Sam; we all know 'em, we all love 'em. I'm in desperate need for Mean!Poly!Camping Boys over here. Like, mean. Besides that I don't really have anything specific in mind besides a little bit of knife play (because it's me we're talking about) and possibly some predator/prey dynamics >:) You'd destroy me in the best way if Sam was the meaner one out of the pair too!

Anyways, I love you and hope you're doing well!!!!

Oh B! Now this is a fucking amazing prompt! It’s been a while since I have written the boys and a while since I have treated you so I feel like this is necessary and important! So I decided to elect to do something we have been sorely missing thus far! Poly!Camping Boys! Killer edition! That is right! Metal Kill and the Wood Carver at once babe! Also yes I am doing well and I love you too so much for suggesting this so! Let’s fucking GO!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.9K. Metal Killer/Buddy Swanson And The Wood Carver/Sam Wescott X GN! AFAB! Reader! Poly!Camping KILLER Boys! Warnings! Murder. Blood. Gore. Canon Violence. Chase. Fear Play. Predator/Prey. Knife Play. Hitting. Spanking. Man Handling. Rough Treatment. Rough Sex. Vaginal Sex. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Threesome. Spit Roast. A-Frame. Throat Fucking. Gagging. Swallowing. Vaginal Fingering. Messy. Blood Play. Outdoor Sex. Forced Orgasm. Multiple Orgasms. Overstimulation. Taunting. Teasing. Pet Names. Bastard Boys. Groping. Dub Con. Threat Of Death.

—

Run Rabbit, Run.

—

You were completely terrified.

How long have you been running for?

It felt like hours of sprinting and hiding and hunkering but you weren’t out of the woods yet, literally, you were in the forest around Camp Clear Vista right now, trying to lay low and be quiet. You were excited for camp, had attended camps in your youth and as soon as you were old enough to start giving back as a counsellor you did so, this was going to be your first year at Camp Clear Vista since your old one closed down. The guy who interviewed you, whose family owned the camp, Sam, was seemingly a really nice guy, if not a little nervous. 

It started great, your fellow counsellors were nice, a good eclectic group of young adults all around your age, all interested and invested in giving the kids a good summer and having a lot of fun while you did it. The first day was spent working on clean up and maintenance, when night fell you all had dinner and ended up around the fire, spooky stories were told and you didn’t pay the tale of the Wood Carver any mind. People wanted to go hunt down the mask and you tagged along because it was better than being alone but that was all hours ago.

Hours before you discovered the first body.

Apparently the Wood Carver was in fact very fucking real. 

More than that there was someone else running around too, white and black mask, long black trench coat and big combat boots and what was one crazed killer not enough?!

That is what led to you hiding like this in the woods from them. You had gotten separated from the few counsellors you were with and so you figured if you were smart, stayed low and hidden and made it to morning, just to sunrise, you would be okay. At least that is what you kept telling yourself, you had to believe it, because what choice did you have otherwise?

They had been pursuing you earlier, you had to fight hard to lose them, there were some close calls, moments where you felt finger tips skim your arms or legs they were so close to getting you but you managed to wriggle away, somehow. All that fight and want to live probably has something to do with it. 

You hadn’t heard or seen from them in a while and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The nerves refused to leave, you were totally on edge, even after all the hard work you did today, you would normally be totally beat but you were so wired there was no way you could sleep now.

Or so you thought. 

You had been sitting in between some bushes, back leaning against a tree so you only had to be concerned with whatever came at you from in front, which would have worked great if you hadn’t dozed off. 

You were woken up rudely, roughly, two sets of hands on you and you had barely registered what was happening as you were hauled up and out from your hiding spot. 

It happens so fast, you can barely register it, eyes struggle to focus as you are tugged forward, pulled through the treeline, exposed knees dragged along sticks and rocks and dirt. You come through the trees, and can see the cabins in the distance, the shorter grass, the air more open, more light from the camp ground and the moon above. The sound of heavy footsteps and breathing filling your ears, you are shoved to the ground, on your back and you feel those strong hands holding you to him, your back to a broad chest. 

Sharp and cold steel is pressed to your throat, your eyes snap up, it was like you were wide awake, immediately and startlingly sober. Your heart was pounding as you looked up into the black and white mask, couldn’t make out the eyes clearly staring you down, a black leather glove clad hand was fisted in your shirt, keeping you in place, as if you could move with the hands holding you down. 

You had been caught and not just by one of them, no it seems by both of them. 

“Finally caught the bad little bunny rabbit. You give surprisingly good chase, you know that?” The man in front of you taunted and you tensed further, as if that was possible. “Wasn’t expecting you to be so speedy but we still got you.”

That knife dragged slowly, allowed you to feel how sharp it was without breaking the skin and you shivered even though the summer heat was so strong it made your clothes stick to you with sweat. “Must have tired yourself out, I couldn’t believe when we found you asleep like that, almost made it too easy.” 

Fuck, You were in such trouble, how would you get out of this with your life?

A stupid and quiet question leaves your too dry lips, “What are you going to do with me?”

The one brandishing the blade laughs, too hard and too long, you squirm and that knife is pressed closer as his laughter dies. “Awe come on. You’re smart.” 

That knife moves, it catches the strap of your tank top and is cut in one swift motion and at that same moment the hands on your shoulders drag down your hips. They hold firm and move your ass so you feel how undeniably hard your captor was now that you were in his lap, a hard grind against you. The one before you leaned in and said in that low voice, “Figure it out.”

You got the hint real fucking quick. 

Sex outside was something that was on your bucket list for camp this summer. This wasn’t how you expected it to happen. You weren’t expecting your clothing to be cut and ripped off, to be shoved onto your hands and knees, split from both ends. A threesome wasn’t something you had been ever actively planning on but you wouldn’t be closed off to it, it happening now was a lot to handle, especially when they were both so rough, so forceful.

The one in the black and white mask, with the leather gloves, who’d been holding the knife was the much more talkative one. The other one behind you, stronger, wearing that wooden mask you had heard from the campfire story, apparently true by the way, that was still something you were contending with, was almost silent. You could hear faint and weird whispers, harsh breathing and grunts of effort, two hands on your waist, locked tight, bruises being surely marked into your skin as he fucked into you. There was barely a courtesy spit, a cursory plunge of his fingers a few times before he was shoving inside and bottoming out. 

Gloved hand in your hair, knife to your cheek and the other was in your mouth and the brutal pace and rhythm was set. While the one currently balls deep inside of you didn’t seem to be one for words, he didn’t need to speak to destroy you. He held no weapon but was more violent than his theatrical counterpart. Pawed and pulled you back with such force, had no care for the sounds of protest you made, minimal because of the dick in your mouth, gagging you, seemed you trying to squirm away or the pain you showed fuels him and pushed him further. 

And the worst part of all of this.

Worse than the pain, than your knees getting scuffed up, than you nearly choking and barely able to breathe as your mouth is fucked?

You were loving this.

All of it. 

You always thought the people you fucked treated you too delicately but you always held back voicing what you really wanted for fear of scaring them off or seeming pushy or too much. But now? You were getting every filthy fucking itch scratched perfectly. The blade had cut your cheek, warm scarlet sliding down soft skin and it makes the man above you hiss and push harder into you, quicker, clearly getting close, the sight of your blood drawn by him exciting him that much more. 

You swallow around the head of his cock and his pace falters and with a curse and a few more short thrusts he is cumming, painting your tongue and you eagerly drink him back just as fast as the mess spills out. He lingers in your mouth for a moment before pulling out, his hand leaves your hair and he sits back on his knees, “Fuck, I knew you’d take it like a dream.”

He was out of breath, panting, you could see the makeup and paint that covered his skin not shielded by the mask was a mess, running a little from the sweat and exertion.

You weren’t done however. The killer behind you only slowed slightly when his cohort was cumming, didn’t stop, but slowed, however now he picked up the pace. His hand meets the back of your head and he pushes you, face down in the dirt and ass up he pounded you harder and you moan incoherently into the dirt. His hand is on the side of your face, fingers press into the fresh wound, more blood weeps and you hiss out in pain and clench around him tighter, agony and bliss mix and become near indistinguishable. You feel sore, you feel elated, you feel tired, you feel better than ever, you want to sleep for a year, you never want it to stop. 

“God he is really giving it to you. Guy has a lot of pent up aggression, clearly.” Taunted the man kneeling before you and almost as if to drive the point home a firm smack on your ass makes you yelp. 

Bloody and dirty fingers move down, shove into your mouth, confront you with the taste, assault your senses further as he has you. How your legs are still managing to hold you up is a mystery, you should be totally collapsing but nothing about this night or this made sense, you just held on. 

More groping, rough pinches of your nipples, nails scratch down your sides, more firm hits to your ass and thighs and pulls of your hair and you have lost track of the orgasms he has forced out of you during this. His companion keeps talking as he watches, more dirty talk and taunting and you can barely focus on his words over all the pure feeling you are going through. He was so harsh it made his friend seem almost tender and gentle in compairson as you are overstimulated near your limit.

You swear he hadn’t even been inside you that long but you had been craving this treatment for so long it didn’t take long for the orgasms to start and not stop. 

When he cums it is deep inside, holding to the hilt and when he does pull out, you do fall fully into the dirt. You are totally out of breath and have no fight when he fingers your abused hole and rubs the mess of blood and dirt and him and you on your messy cheeks, making you fully confront what the pair had subjected you to. 

Just when you thought you might have done it and saved yourself, had satisfied them as well as yourself, you hear the sound of metal being unsheathed and you knew you had no strength left to run.

You close your eyes and wait for penetration of a different kind than what you had just experienced. 

#OH BITCH #ITS HERE #Poly!Camping Boys x reader #Metal Killer X reader #The Wood Carver x reader #BHF writing #BHF asks #f1nalboys #MAN #SO #I gotta do more of this #Obviously

[msookyspooky]

OMG YOU WATCHED LISA FRANKENSTIEN AND LOVED IT?! <33

I've been waiting for that especially since you've posted Gomez and Morticia (The goal of all goals) on your blog! It's an odd request but I still read and love your Set Up series so can we get a crossover with YN as Lisa Swallow's and the boys as The Creature? ( Cole Sprouse lowkey reminds me of young Skeet Ulrich which considering Riverdale it's no wonder)

Wait cause no this is such a good idea I cannot pass it up I got so much work to do but I REALLY wanna write for this! (I got so many request I'm trying to do in my inbox but uh...This is my current hyperfixation srry)

I wish I could draw better to make zombies of them fhjaafg ♡♡♡ If anyone wants to add onto this or request other characters please do (And anyone seeing this; watch Lisa Frankenstein I loved it)

🔪 Scream / Lisa Frankenstein Crossover 🧟‍♂️

Iⁿᶜˡᵘᵈᵉᵈ﹕ ʳᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵉᵉᵏˢ, ˢᵗᵘ ᵐᵃᶜʰᵉʳ, ᵇⁱˡˡʸ ˡᵒᵒᵐⁱˢ, ᵐⁱᶜᵏᵉʸ ᵃˡᵗᵉʳⁱ

(Everyone is buried in this despite canon and set in the present. Fem!Reader TW: Corpse/Dead Body, Talk of Rot and Decay, Zombie BF)

🪦 Randy Meeks: Died 1998

♡ You loved his character in Stab. After you did some deep diving studying who the actual Randy was outside of the movie; you found his tombstone. (who would do this? Me and @f1nalboys Might do what Lisa did and write your name over his etched name *Meeks* on a piece of paper. Bc of course YN Meeks just has a nice ring to it)

♡ Heard you venting about life and fell in love in his restless but lucid slumber 6ft underground. Someone actually likes his character for more than comic relief? Someone understood him? They didn't think he was just the geek?

♡ After a terrible lightning storm...Guess who fumbled and broke through your window drenched in mud and decay?

♡ Is a little hurt you aren't head over heels for him in his current state. He accidentally cried even if his pride hates that he quite literally cried his own eyes out. He's used to not getting who he wants and...Well, he may not smell himself with his nostrils rotted out but considering his eye popped out; still attached to the retina and had to be pushed back in while you're covering your nose gagging; he understands even if it hurts.

♡ Takes a shower (I'd use Dawn. Bar soap or Dove ain't gonna cut it.) and wears your clothes or robe. He still smells like a dead body and has worms but he's trying. He's got a LOT of old stab wounds from dying in that van at Windsor...Holes...Things seep out so you might wanna get tape or something idk.

♡ Do not stress this undead man out if you mischaracterize a film; he cannot talk with a missing tongue to argue; it decayed decades ago.

♡ His dead, dull eyes actually have some spark of life to them when he sees streaming for the first time. So many movies he's missed out on! Give him the remote and you never gotta worry about him leaving your room while you're gone.

♡ He accidentally kills someone you definitely did not want killed after they smelled something awful in your room, went up there, screamed, Randy went to knock them out in a panic and accidentally kills them

♡ He feels awful about it and you both decide to hide the body and use their hand to replace his missing one (Fell off lol just dead things) and shock him back to circulation somehow

♡ If you do what Lisa did and let him do...Other things with a 'back massager'. He's so madly in love and yearning for you it's insane. But if you got a crush you're yearning for; he is rolling his eyes with a grunt at this being Sid and Billy or Sid and Derek allllll over again.

♡ Less corpsey he gets with each shock session; more he can't help his feelings for you. YOU have to be the one to admit your feelings to him though because what would you want with an undead geek like him? At least in his mind.

♡ Would cry his eyes out (Not literally this time) if you were killed and 100% would resurrect your body and take care of you like you did him

♡ Is as loyal as they come. Will worship you accepting him at his geekiest, dead, grossest versions of himself and you're still here

🪦 Stu Macher: Died 1996

♡ You found his tombstone as a dare to 'bring him back' like bloody mary....No duh, it didn't work. But Stu was still aware of it in a dream like state sorta way. You didn't believe in that stuff rolling your eyes at people badgering you on where you lived.

♡ A car hits a power line and the line of electricity zaps his grave and he goes home just to see...Holy shit, you own his house!

♡ He thinks he's still the playboy man slut he was in life that can get anyone he wants so he's really offended you aren't wanting him to kiss you. Why!? Cause he has worms and his lips are a little dry from sinking into rot, he's a little bit dirty with body fluid stained clothes and he smells like a dead body? Picky!

♡ Is even more offended you're gagging and covering your nose demanding he bathe. Begrudgingly takes your dumb shower and your entire tub smells like dead bird and covered in dirt.

♡ When he comes out you see his face is very scarred under all that mud he had on him. Maybe the rumor he died via a tv crashing on his head and shocking him was true?

♡ If you piss him off...Well he can't kill you cause he needs you. But he WILL hack up a worm like a hairball just to gross you out out of pure pettiness.

♡ Just steals your clothes without asking. Lounging in your best clothes that can fit while he's leaking fluids. If not, he's stealing some guys clothes in your home. Catch him lounging in your Dad/Step Dad/Brothers/Friends best fit.

♡ Tries to steal your bed till you yell at him to get in the closet before someone sees. He guards your clothes and forces you to wear the sluttiest sexiest clothes you have...What? He's helping!

♡ He is soooooooo elated they made Stab! A whole movie with him portrayed in it by a good looking actor? He is over the moon watching it on repeat.

♡ Gets lonely easily...And bored! He's sighing to himself when you're gone and thinking how Billy is dead now and all the people he once knew, knew him as a murderer and were in their 40's. In fact, don't leave him alone long; its disastrous.

♡ Not able to yap HURTS HIM. Expect a lot of hand gestures and getting him a note pad to write on because he can't handle this

♡ Kills someone after you have an issue with them not even second guessing it. What? Problem solved! AND he gets a new body part to replace the one that rotted. Win win.

♡ He is very aware and depressed his manhood rotted off decades ago and that's probably the first body part he's going for. Especially a crush/boyfriend of yours. He can handle no ear or hand or even a tongue but his dick!? No.

♡ Sits in bed painting your nails while you rant about boys. He nods at everything when it comes to guys having their mind on one thing because well...Yeah. Especially in his case

♡ HE is the one smirking if he finds any massager and even if you want a back rub that thing is going lower. Just cause he doesn't have a peen rn doesn't mean his mind isn't in the gutter still

♡ He thinks your a girlfriend of his right away so casually without even asking you so; of course any guy coming near you is dead. Of course he's resurrecting you if you die because...Well he's starting to realize you're the only girl that doesn't scream when you see him so he's gonna hang up his player towel.

♡ Even fully restored he still has scars on his face and feels indebted to you that you don't care about his murderous ways or his face now. He takes care of you if you're dead and the roles reverse...Hell, he finds it hot you need him now.

Billy Loomis: Died 1996

♡ You were a bit odd yourself and found yourself studying the murders. Feeling conflicted about Billy because yeah he was an awful incel but researching his background you felt a bit bad he felt so alone and abandoned even with people around him. You clean off vandalism on his grave and talk to him for hours.

♡ A storm occurs after you have an awful day and cry to his grave 'I wish I was with you'...You meant dead. But well...

♡ That night lightning hits the grave and you wake up in bed to the god awful smell and his dead dirty face looking down at you. You go to scream and he covers your mouth with a cold clammy hand. Going to talk to you and a centipede falls out his mouth making you scream even louder.

♡ You almost knock his head off before he points to a picture on your desk you took of his grave surrounded by newspaper articles of his death.

♡ He thinks he finally has a person that's not a 'whore, bitch, or poser' in his eyes. A bit in love with you and is bitter you don't exactly want an ex serial killer from the 90's like that...

♡ He almost wants to kill you thinking of the betrayal till he sees his reflection and is completely defeated. Sunken dead eyes, matted dirty hair missing in places, longer haggered dirty nails, skin looking ready to fall off.

♡ He sits in your bathroom and you try to comfort him till you smell what smells like...Sewage and death and embalming fluid and your trying not to throw up.

♡ He takes a shower without being told to. Disgusted by his own rot and grime. His gun shot wound in the middle of his forehead a reminder of his failure almost 3 decades ago...Might have scrambled his brain a bit.

♡ He's a manipulator and user but he's not as...Tactless and spoiled as Stu. He feels grateful you offered him to stay despite the smell and the misunderstanding even if he's not happy sleeping on the floor or closet.

♡ He feels even more defeated when you tell him his Mom died in 1998 at Windsor College trying to avenge his death. He's beside himself over it and honestly just wants to crawl back in his icky coffin and die again.

♡ He wanders your home despite being told not to. Goes through all of your things. The lack of speaking doesn't bother him. Especially when it means he can hear you spill your guts more. He wants to observe everything.

♡ Like Randy he's pleased by the movies on streaming but not as obsessed as he was. Whether that bullet was like a lobotomy or just laying in the ground so long to 'think' in the afterlife; he's not the same guy he was in 96...Not completely. Is annoyed at his portrayal in Stab. His hair never looked like that! (Yes it did)

♡ He does kill someone when they bully or mistreat you. He feels possessive of you already and he just doesn't like assholes. He's the one that decides to steal a body part while you're staring in horror.

♡ He gets shocked and you see him a little less dead and a working body part now. So it becomes a thing for you both but you tell him 'Only those that deserve it' and he shrugs. He ain't following that but okay.

♡ Is pinning over you but hides it well. Enjoying just listening to you or watching you. HATES with a passion when you talk about guys but hides it with grunts and subtle glares.

♡ Is your ride or die when he hears police are investigating you for murder after he was the one killing them. I mean...What will they do? Re-kill him? He will do anything he can especially the more 'alive' he becomes to protect you.

♡ Once he's...Fully equipped he actually refuses to sleep with you. Still thinking 'virgins live, sluts die' like he use to. You have to tell him 'You know Sidney is still alive, right? That rule is dumb and not true.' he may get over it and sleep with you or it might still take time.

♡ He wants to go after Sid but also what's the point now? He's not exactly in tip top shape...Don't even tell him about Sam being rumored to possibly being his daughter by mega Stab fans. His undead brain will stop working.

♡ If you die he will resurrect you not out of convenience and want like Stu or devotion like Randy but more possessive ownership. You're his. Whether that's love or to control you (Both). Not even death will seperate you from him.

♡ Once he's fully recovered he has a migraine till that bullet eventually is pushed out by that one last shock and his body starts bleeding again.

♡ More than happy to be together away from everyone just you and him.

Mickey Alteri: Died 1998

♡ Everyone knows Mickey as the freak that was so obsessed with Stab and the original killers he imitated them. But what they don't realize is he killed even before Nancy found him. He was just wired different and it made him feel alive...How ironic now.

♡ You accidentally stumbled upon his grave after trying to find a different one. And...Why is it empty? Well, you had nothing to do with his resurrection just wrong place wrong time as a corpse is lumbering towards you from behind a tombstone with bullet wounds all over him.

♡ He wanted to snap your neck just to fell something again till his own leg fell off and he face planted on the ground.

♡ You of course didn't know he was trying to kill you. You still tried to get away before you saw him just sitting there and...Sighing? It wasn't a mindless zombie after you? Even worse; he grabbed your keys when you ran.

♡ Ask for them back and like a damn child he shakes his head with grunts. You swear to God you heard 'nuh uh' in his grunt. (Keep his leg away give me the keys or I'm yeeting your leg)

♡ Takes a shower at your house and like Randy all those holes are leaking...Icky stuff. He had more muscle before he died so his body mass shockingly is thinner but not as much as it should be? You're talking to a corpse it doesn't have to make sense. All you know is he just walked around naked and you saw disgusting things on the human body you never wanna know after death. You gotta make him wear clothes!

♡ You're in this awkward situation where...The dead guy has feelings and thoughts and is urging he wants to go home with you. Whether you say yes or no he knows your car and will find you.

♡ Sew his leg back on or give him a funny replacement like a peg leg and tell him deal with it. What are you? A surgeon?

♡ Little did you know the second you came for your keys and talked to him he claimed you as his just for being different than most victims. More eager than Stu, falling even faster than Randy, more obsessive than Billy and POSSIBLY crazier than the og Ghostface's...You're having a corpse that is already planning to make you his (Might even kill you so you have to be with him when he resurrects you like he was.)

♡ Other than killing and movies you're the first thing to make him feel something and he is not letting that go.

♡ Wears your clothes, watches your tv, listens to you talk, plans to kill anyone that fucks with you, watches you when you sleep, dresses you up.

♡ The first kill is a guy interested in you. You are his now! He doesn't hesitate to take a few body parts to have you sew on him. Finds the whole process endearing. He's nuts guys idk. You just gotta drill it in his head not to kill a family member, close friend or pet or you won't forgive him because he cannot have that. He wants your affection and attention so he'll be good when it comes to that.

♡ With each shock he gets more lively and bolder. Dancing with you and ignoring the worm that you don't know where it fell out of. Trying to cuddle you even if you gotta start smearing vicks under your nose. Won't hesitate to kiss all over you once he's not as rotten and tries to think of your pleasure before his.

♡ He never hides his obsession and will let you know with a hand on your throat not to talk about guys around him before lovingly caressing your cheek afterwards as an apology.

♡ If you die, not by him, he is furious and will kill anyone in his path before resurrecting you. He'll take care of you in the most yanadere way. You're his forever now.

#scream 2 #scream #scream imagines #scream imagine #stu macher #billy loomis #randy meeks #mickey alteri

[dumbfuck-mojave]

Stills of Our Lives (Willow’s Wonderful 10K Celebration)

Prompt: Byers!Reader-  “Y/N and Johnathan started a photography club. Y/N goes into the woods to take some nature pics and finds Eddie there. He’s his usual self and says “let me be your muse” and poses dramatically. He’s surprised when Y/N laughs and actually starts taking pictures of him.”

Franchise: Stranger Things

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Also Featured: Jonathan Byers my beloved

Warnings: None :DDD

A/N: My obsession with butterflies lately? IDK they’re just cool. Anyways, this is a fic for the follower celebration @loveronlineee​ is holding!! Everyone go check out Willow’s blog, it really is a treat!! The Byer’s reader prompt just called to me, especially since I’ve been wanting to write a Byers!Reader for awhile. I know siblings fics can be a bit specific in terms of who can relate but, like all my other fics, this is written as vague in regards to the reader as possible!! So you can absolutely picture this as an adopted or found family scenario, Jonathan is referred to as “your brother” but aside from that yeah! I hope you enjoy, and if this isn’t your thing I hope you come back for the next one! Have fun!!

Word Count: 1,3333

@kaylawritesfics @skeletonsinthebasement @horrorstolemyheart @loveronlineee @f1nalboys @frogus <33

Support a disabled, queer creator here!

The fall leaves crackle and crunch under your feet as you make the treacherous journey into the woods that half-circle the schools of Hawkins. 

Well, treacherous in the way of you forgetting your coat in Jonathan’s car, only to realize it was locked once you were already outside, and then almost getting hit by some idiot sophomore as you turned to go back into the school. That was enough for you to decide you could survive without it, a little cold wouldn’t hurt you, right? Now it was a decision you were starting to regret as the wicked breeze picked up, cutting into the skin exposed by your t-shirt like a thousand microscopic needles. 

Jonathan and you had started the photography club the school year prior, his junior year and your “should-have-been” senior year. There had been a photography club previous to yours, but at some point during your freshman year, it fizzled out; most of the members were juniors and seniors, who had long since graduated at this point, and what remained of the club slowly morphed into part of the yearbook committee. It made you a bit sad when it happened, you knew Jonathan would have adored the whole thing and the unique way it was being run, but he hadn’t seemed too bothered by it. You felt that was the introvert in him peeking through. 

What was now referred to as “Photography Club 2.0” came to be half out of you wanting to do something big for your senior year, and half Jonathan's own yearn to create a space that his interests could truly thrive in. He had really come out of his shell the past year or two, and while it was wonderful to see your brother blossom into a more confident individual, it also made you feel a bit stuck in time.

 During Will’s disappearance, your grades may have…slipped a bit, causing some lost credits as a result. Something the school did not think to inform you of until a few months before you were scheduled to graduate. So while Jonathan was growing into the best version of himself, you were a 19-year-old being forced to repeat senior year when you should have been in college, making questionable choices or stressing out over college level homework, not highschool level. 

Yeah, you were still a little pissed off. 

But it did give you an excuse to longingly stare at the other highschool holdback, so it may not have been so bad. 

The sunlight became spotty as you entered a particularly thick patch of trees, stopping occasionally to play around with the shadows and get a few diverse shots. You had been following a butterfly for awhile, having been able to get a few photos as it glided through the air, but you were really just passing time while you waited for it to land. Finally, your wish came true. With a new pep in your step, you slowly inched your way towards the rotting stump the insect had chosen to rest on, coppery wings fluttering to a stop. You just had to raise your camera and…. 

“Byers, fancy seeing you here!”

You whip around to face the voice behind you with a scowl. 

“Edward, I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“Aw c’mon now, none of that.” Eddie laughed, plopping down beside you without much tact. 

“Listen, I will happily talk to you in a minute but right now I really need to get this shot.”

Eddie held up his hands in surrender as you turned back to the stump, ecstatic your precious muse hadn’t been scared away by the loud boy next to you. A few quiet shots later, you were sated with the quality of your photographs and straightened back up, holding a hand out to Eddie, who had taken to lying fully on the ground. You almost fell forward, having miscalculated his dead weight, but Eddie had jumped up to steady you and led you over to a different area, where tiny wildflowers dotted the ground, forming a ring around a pile of rocks. 

“Sorry about almost scaring away your bug, thought this would make up for it.”

“It’s alright, but I’ll play along if it means we get to stay here longer.” You smiled at him, readying your camera once more to capture the new scenery. 

Eddie kicked at the ground behind you, spraying up dust and staining the tips of his sneakers brown. 

“So, why that one?” He asked in a flat tone.

You raised an eyebrow, looking over your shoulder, “Why what one?”

“That butterfly, why did you like it so much?”

“It was a Swamp Metalmark, you don’t really see them around here, especially not this late in the year.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew that much about butterflies.”

“I like to know about the things I’m shooting.” Your brows furrowed, hands pulling away from the small plants as you turned to fully face him, “Dude, are you okay? You’re acting really weird.” 

Eddie seemed to panic for a moment before quickly regaining himself, striding towards you.

“Well, the real reason is…I want to be your muse!” His voice boomed as he leapt up onto the largest rock, a joking grin on his face as he struck a pose reminiscent of Hercules. You couldn’t control your laughter as you squinted up at him, a bright beam of sun casting down around him like a gift from Helios himself. You tilt your head, with the right composition-

“Alright, show me what you’ve got then, yeah?” You raise the camera up to your eye, the frayed strap rubbing against your skin as Eddie looked at you owlishly.

“Really?”

“Of course!” You replied, giggling, “You should really turn a bit though, so I can get you clearly.”

Eddie took a moment, still wide-eyed and seemingly frozen, but his mobility returned and he did as you asked, smiling with flushed cheeks. 

You didn’t bother keeping track of time after that, too caught up laughing and snapping Eddie as he came up with increasingly absurd poses. Back against the rock as he lolls his head back, acting like he’s dead with his tongue poking out, carefully crouching amongst the flowers and holding up the sign of the horns (that was your personal favorite), all the way up to where you are now, watching him jump out of a tree and land with a thud beside you. 

“That was fun!” He stated, huffing a little as he tried to catch his breath. You felt heat in your own cheeks as you looked at him, messy mop of hair and white pullover dirtied with leaves and small twigs. 

He looked lovely.

“Agreed, we should do it again sometime.” You responded, holding a hand out to him and wiggling your fingers as you backed up towards the entrance of the woods. Eddie’s eyes lit up as he took it, tightly holding on as he all but skipped ahead. 

By the time you had made it out of the woods, the sun was plunged deep into the sky, painting it with oranges and yellows. Jonathan sat against his car, looking down at his feet. 

“Shit.” You hiss out, having finally decided to check your watch. 2 hours. 2 hours since you were supposed to be back to get a ride home from Jonathan.

Eddie glanced over at you nervously until he deciphered what you were upset about, and then he laughed.

“I wouldn’t be too upset.”

“Why?” You ask as you start walking faster towards the car, Eddie struggling to keep up with you.

“It was his idea for me to follow you out here.”

You stopped immediately.

“It was what?”

“I mean, I was the one who asked him how to spend time with you, but the idea of suggesting ~wood photography~? That was all him, sunshine.”

Eddie beamed at you as you sighed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

“You’re a menace, Eddie Munson.”

“Your menace?”

“Yeah.”

#My writing #original writing #willowswonderful10celebration #willow's wonderful 10K celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #byers reader #byers!reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #sibling fic #gn fic #gender neutral y/n #prompt challenge #celebration

[the-anxious-youth]

Slasher Blog Masterlist

Hey y’all! If you’re on my page you’re probably into slashers so I figured I’d do a list of other blogs in this fandom that I visit frequently. Keep in mind that most of these are 18+ so please respect that! Also this is super fucking long but if you’re on this list I love you and your blog. <3

Writing:

@slasherhaven - one of the ogs and the most writing I’ve seen on any slasher blog so far; I check their page daily lmao

@brandnewhuman - super nice and writes awesome stuff, I’m a big fan

@pass-me-the-knife - writing and memes 10/10

@suicidalslasher - mainly writes scream but has some really good poly! Ghost face smut

@lovelyhalloween - I love their writing style so you should def check them out

@slasherlouvre - has some top tier nsfw for you horny little freaks

@etherealbimbo - their poly!ghost face nsfw makes me blush, another 10/10

@smashin-the-slashers -another awesome slasher x reader blog

@joelsgeetar - their blog is so chaotic and I fucking love it 10/10

@horrorstories123 - they make some really sweet stuff that makes my heart go awooooo

@slasherrrz - another really good blog with some angst that I re-read over and over again

@slasher-lovers-blog - this person writes and draws and they’re so talented

@mehidktbh - this one’s for you bo Sinclair lovers (aka me) v v good

@slashersins - mostly nsfw but it’s all so well written, another 10/10

@mistertiberius - tons of top notch Sinclair stuff, I’ve read every single one of their works and would def recommend

@sunkendreams - THE BEST SMUT ON THIS APP PERIOD; seriously go check them out

@ffanciulla - another stupendous slasher writer, their bo Sinclair stuff has me 🥵🤤

@f1nalboys - also does lost boys for you vampire lovers (and slashers too)

@bloodybrahms - another OG with some classic writings

@slasherwife - unfortunately inactive but their account is still up so please go read the old works, I’ve read them all more than once

@early20sfailingplenty - A+ house of wax blog, which is my favorite slasher film if you can’t tell

@angelisoffline - some real good headcanons here, once again I’ve read them all

@fernweh-writes - I love this blog v much and their headcanons make me so soft <3

@sinfulwrites - 10/10 smut, gimme them dirty slasher bois

@lebenspurpur - they write for a TON of people and I’m here for it

@multifandomwritings - this blog has a ton of content for slasher as well as other fandoms if you’re looking for a multi blog

@stay-outta-my-blood-circle - this blog has a bunch of complete stories rather than just headcanons and one shots. I’d recommend “90 days” personally!

@slasherfucker - you can probably tell by the name but this blog is full of the 18+ goods if you know what I mean ;)

@the-slasher-files - awesome writing and they commissioned the coolest art piece (it’s their icon)

@friendly-alien-fucker - this is a yautja (predator) blog but it’s also very good

@frenziedslashers - I literally discovered them cause of this post and I’m about to read the whole damn Masterlist (esp the bo stuff👀)

Art:

@masks-n-steel - so fucking talented; feeds my jason loving soul

@osirisisv - please check them out their art is so good, 10/10

@irregularsweater - I go to this page when I need to smile because they have the funniest shit on there

@roachcult - one of the best artists on here, no cap, I’ve commissioned them and it was so worth it

@the-thot-clown - another very gifted artist who’s art I adore

@cursed-buffet-29 - this one is a monsterfucker blog but if you like slashers imma assume you’re a monsterfucker too, even if you haven’t admitted it yet lmao

@vertropolis - best yautja art I’ve ever seen fr

#slashers #masterlist #I love each and every one of you <3

[visceravalentines]

hi!! i love your writing so much. i couldn’t find a list of characters you write for, but would you consider writing for nick? i love him so much and no one writes for him it seems 🥲

thank you so much anon!! unfortunately he has not captured my heart, but you are right, i don't know that i've seen many fics for him. i know my darling angel bubble bee @f1nalboys has written/does write for him!!

#asks #anon asks #drop recs maybe friends?? if u got em???

[applesontheground]

don’t want me around 🕯️

this one goes out to @f1nalboys for reminding me i needed to write for this bitch. ♡

NSFW | Word Count: 2,893 | Nick Jones x GN Reader

contains teasing, fingering, hickeys, brief alcohol/smoking mentions

🎼: x, x

He didn’t seem like the type to be at a block party. It was dawning on you that his sister and friends had probably dragged him to it, seeing them give him looks from behind them that insisted he was about to have a good time. He had entered the scene dawdling behind the rest with his hood up, giving anyone that approached him a dry glance up and down before they even opened their mouth.

If they were lucky, he’d even say something just low enough for the two of them to hear. They were never nice things, judging by the way people seemed to avert him as he made his disposition known.

When the hood came down, you could see his buzzed blonde hair and the uncomfortable scowl in full view. Under the cheap tiki lights someone had strung up, he found his designated corner alongside a couple friends he came in with, nursing a beer that he had torn the label off in a bored move, occasionally seeing someone he knew across the way and flipping them the bird. Those at least seemed somewhat fun in nature, but you couldn’t be sure.

You caught yourself spacing, eyes turning back down towards the rum and coke that you were making and seeing that it was now at least sixty percent rum. Why were you zeroing in on all these things about some jerk-off from class in the first place?

“Saw that. You checking out Nick, [Y/N]?” The dawdling voice from over your shoulder, the same one that you heard two days a week in a frigid lecture hall at an hour you loathed to be awake at, made you instinctively scrunch your nose. Dalton Chapman – same grade as you, different volume control level. Despite that, he wasn’t the worst guy to be stuck with in your remedial math course. He at least kept you awake.

“No, dickmunch.” You playfully muttered, pouring yourself the rest of your drink, “Just surprised he turned up to this. Nick doesn’t even show up to my ragers.” Dalton laughed, clapping your shoulder a little too hard as he eased, “Aw, don’t be like that. Nick’s great…” You watched him from across the lawn again, seeing him pull a face at another man and flicking his eyebrows as he cursed at him and promptly walked away. Your tongue dug into your cheek as you squinted back at Dalton, and he then added with one less level of certainty, “When you get to know him?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll get to know him some time. I bet he’d love that.” You rolled your eyes, and Dalton scoffed, “Really, [Y/N]. Once he stops punching your leg and all that, he’s a great guy.” You laughed again, and it finally seemed to catch Nick’s attention, his eyes set on the two of you for a beat. It was like you could see the shitty remark building in his head, a smirk willing back as he squared his jaw. You took a half-sway, half-step back as he cut across the lawn to you two, and in that flat tone he muttered to his friend, “So, where’d you find [him/her/them]?”

“It’s [Y/N] from math.” Dalton replied, and you added, “The one you’ve maybe shown up to twice?”

“Got no reason to be there. Teacher’s already fuckin’ failing me anyways.” Nick scoffed, and you bit your tongue to tell him it was probably because he was never there. You had no idea why he was even in college when you saw him drag his feet everywhere. For a moment, your eyes danced back over to where his sister was standing, laughing with another couple of girls and shining in a bright yellow blouse.

Your eyes trickled back over as you shrugged at him, but he had seen your expression and you weren’t fooling him. “What?” The word came out bitter, and he finally let the ugly smile full of some sort of misplaced hatred spill onto you, “You think that that’s my fault. Right?” You looked over the brim of your glass, slowly lowering it and fighting the bite of the alcohol as you replied, “Never said that. Just think it’d help.”

He scoffed, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at your nose. “I don’t need your help. Got that?” You rolled your neck at him, Dalton mumbling something in a hopeless attempt to try and ease the tension as you retorted, “Wasn’t offering it.”

Dalton suddenly stepped in between the two of you. “What was that!?” He called out, a few nearby heads turning as he called, “Huh? Oh!” He slapped Nick on the chest, making him break his heavy glare into your eyes. “Dude, I think Wade’s calling us. Come on.” He paced off, stumbling on his own feet slightly. You turned away, leaving Nick to linger only for a moment more before sighing and following him.

Throughout the night, you stayed away from the sourpuss for his peace of mind. Parties like these weren’t the worst things for you, but you often found yourself weaving from group to group. Head spinning from your strong drink wasn’t helping anything, but by the time you could realize you had overdone it you were already too drunk and too blissed out to care.

You only gave a brief wave at a few idling classmates as you saw yourself out, even thanking the host who was holding himself up on the sofa and referred to you by the wrong name as you stepped out into the dark street. You could’ve sworn someone had said your name as you slipped under the string lights again, and finally found yourself on the suburban street, lit windows few in between along the sharp rows of dark houses as you trotted along.

“Dude, do you know where you’re going?” A familiar voice called from the lawn you were walking away from, and you almost had to double take when you glanced over your shoulder.

Nick Jones was walking into the dark with you. The hood was up again, eyes shining in the single streetlight up ahead as he merely stared after you. You laughed at the thought of him wanting anything to do with you. “No. No!” You sang out at him, but he only fell in stride beside you and muttered, “Shut up, I’m walking you home. Paige and Blake told me to, even though they’re the ones who don’t want you to go off alone.”

“And you listened to them?” You turned back around, looming houses on either side of the street swimming in your half-drunk peripherals and your feet barely adjusting to the uneven pavement beneath your feet. Nick was beside you in seconds, lighting a cigarette as he shot you another scornful glance.

“Like I have a choice.”

You had sobered up a decent amount by the time you made it back to the little two-story that you were renting out with some high school friends, and when you stepped in to hear nothing going on in -- even upstairs -- you breathed a sigh of relief: you were alone.

“So, this is your place?” Nick prodded, and you turned to look at him giving a glance around the living room. “Mm hm.” You hummed in reply, and couldn’t help but keep eyeing him for a beat, waiting for some rude comment or for him to abruptly turn tail. He looked back at you, and you finally suggested, “You probably want to go back to your friends, right?”

“Actually,” Nick held to the open doorway, halfway in and halfway out, “I was gonna ask if I could stay here for a little bit. Like, maybe ten minutes.” He winced, “I’ll be cool if you say no. That party wasn’t really my sorta thing. Needed to get out one way or another.”

After a pause, you rocked on your heels. Ten minutes could be ten minutes, or it could be an hour. You weren’t sure you were so mellow with the idea of just sitting around with some dude from your math class, but when you looked back at him you found yourself fixated on the way his expression wasn’t glowering as he traced the room over again you were agreeing before your rational thought could let him down easy. “Sure, actually. Roommates aren’t home, so-” You had been looking out the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room, seeing a neighbor turn their lights on and hoping they wouldn’t be looking over. When you looked back at Nick, he was closing the door behind him and pulling a couple beers out of an inner pocket in his jacket.

“Dude.” Your lips quirked into a baffled smile, eyes wide and trained into his, “Did you...?”

“It’s a frat house, [Y/N].” Nick scoffed, a grouchy squint forming on his face as he held one out to you, the chrome silver ring on his middle finger twinkling under the overhead light, “They had more than enough.”

You fell down on the couch with a soft slap against the worn fabric, watching him take a much more careful seat next to you. “So, you’d really rather sit in an empty house with a kid you don’t even know from remedial math?” You questioned, and he stopped staring at the floor to look at you again. “Uh, yeah.” He pretended to think on it, but then shrugged as he spoke, popping the bottle’s cap.

“What, you aren’t gonna at least try to steal something before sitting down?” You teased, feeling the blood rushing in your head again as you opened your own drink. It still had a remnant of warmth and had some dawning condensation from being in his jacket. Nick snorted, “Wow, way to make me feel welcome.”

A twinge of pity spurred in your chest, but you swallowed it down with a weak retort, “You were the one coming up to me asking where Dalton found me and being a dickhead when I tried to talk to you, dude. Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it back.” He ignored the way you smirked, and replied, “Wanna talk about something else, smartass?”

“To what? How you’re failing math and don’t need anyone to remind you?” You muttered, and before you could smile to show it was an ill-mannered joke he snapped his head to look at you. In a quick dive, the texture of his lips were grinding against yours and his breath was sliding over your face. You had to hold the bottle in your lap with two hands, leaning back at the force of him pushing into you. He finally caught you with a hand on the back of your neck, working even deeper and scratching his facial hair against your mouth as he lazily pulled off you with a huff into your eyes.

When you looked back, mouth still half open and eyes wide with a waning confusion, he replied, “I’m gonna get you to shut up for a few fucking seconds. You can do that for me, right?”

It was in those infinite few seconds that you realized you didn’t know why you had let this bastard stay in the first place, and you didn’t know why you only nodded when he spoke to you with such a fucking brash tone. Still, it got his mouth back on yours, so you didn’t have much room to complain.

The two of you started to sprawl out, him not able to get close enough and you unable to fall back any further. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with him on top of you, pushing his thigh between your legs as his hands held your sides. A gentle suck on his tongue made him murmur into your mouth, brow folding as he turned his head to keep in line with you. When your hand held his jaw to help, he seemed to relax against you, hands now on your neck.

“Where is this coming from?” You gasped, Nick letting you breathe as he pushed himself up and off from the sound of your winded voice. You admitted as you stared up, mouth twitching in another buffering attempt to smile, “Thought you hated my guts.”

“Well, I don’t.” He mumbled, and then looked towards the stairs in a pointed manner. “Can we?”

“Jesus, even now you can’t shut up.”

Nick murmured in your ear, breath close enough and hot to the point where you responded to the sensation with another strained hum. He was only fingering you, middle and ring fingers idly sliding in and out of your [hole/cunt] with a sweltering amusement glowing in his eyes. When you only gave him a dazed flutter of your eyelids, he began kissing under your ear, “Pretty cute,” He teased, “You thought you were so tough down there, talking to me like I’m fucking stupid.”

“I d-don’t think-” You groaned again as he hit your core with another long digited pump, “Y-you’re stupid. Nick, ple-”

“Hey. I’m fucking with you. You’re learning your lesson, that’s all I want right now.” He chided, and when he gently licked against the bruising spot that he had sucked into your tender skin, you felt an intense wave reach its tipping point and scatter as it fell to the depths with a single flinch of your body. Your knees began pulling together, stopped by his arm in between, and he only moved quicker as you came with a sharp cry, breathing audibly and grabbing the pillow under your head. You fell apart in the span of seconds, writhing beside him and letting him laugh without a snide remark to send him back into a shitty attitude.

He held your thigh as you stopped whining, swallowing hard as your eyes sealed shut and you grimaced at your own weak will. He had only been working on you for about ten minutes, and managed to pull you to the orgasm like he was trained to do it. He pulled out his hand, rubbing the remnants on the bed as he pushed off to find his shirt that had gotten lost between coming up the stairs with you and where you two had tumbled onto the the bed.

“How about when I get back from this stupid trip I’m taking next week, we can go out for drinks some time? Bars are more my scene, you know.” You stretched, glancing at the clock as he stumbled around in the dark to find his clothes. It was now well past three, but there wasn’t much on the agenda for the next day anyways. No remedial math, unfortunately.

There was also no more anger and tension in the air that seemed to come and go before. An easy warmth was wading between the two of you as you hummed, “Didn’t you mention you were on parole?” Nick turned to look back at you, and you sat up to press against your bent legs, tangled in the sea of your own duvet and giving a tilt of your head. He shrugged. “...We’ll get beers and hang out here, or even my place if Carly isn’t around.”

“Wait, trip? Where are you going?” You then asked, smile quirking up slightly. Nick stood straight, his shoulders coming together in a stretch as he started to hook his belt. “Uhh, some football game in Baton Rouge. Blake wants to go. I wasn’t crazy about the idea, but…Dalton wants me to. Carly and her dumb boyfriend are gonna go, so it’s good for me to stick around. Make sure they stay out of shit.”

You nodded with a shit-eating smile on your face. “Uh huh, for sure. I bet you’d set a stellar example for that.” He gave you a dirty look, but when you only continued to laugh, he let the tough expression go and turned back to face you again. Your eyes caught on his body, something often swallowed in that huge jacket, before he closed the distance again and pressed another cold-lipped kiss onto your mouth.

“Really, though. I don’t want to sound like some kind of softie, but we should hang out more.” He insisted, and you finally gave him a genuine smirk. He stole another kiss, this time under your ear to make you shudder at how close he got to the hickey he had left. He then looked into your eyes, and meekly added, “Oh, trust me. Don’t you dare tell my friends about this yet. Alright?”

You sneered, but took it in jest. “Why, is crashing that car less embarrassing than fucking some [guy/girl] from your math class?” Nick’s expression tumbled into something you had seen earlier that night, but his voice didn’t get hard. It instead fell to a hollow murmur. “…Long story about that.”

He looked forlorn at the mention of it, some vague incident that you had heard through the whispers of his sister and his friends, and you were about to assure you were kidding before he looked back with a timid fold of his brow and a smirk that tried to play it all off. “Really, [Y/N]. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.”

You grinned at him again, and finally felt all the resistance cave as you murmured, “Sure.”

#nick jones #nick jones x reader #nick jones x y/n #final boy x reader #final boy x y/n #notsfw #✏️ #🕯️ #i tried to squeeze in the friendgroup (dalton specifically) alongside the smut so lmk how i did okkk? :)c #yes this takes place before the events in the movie. because i'm evil

[f1nalboys]

Did You Mean It? - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!AFAB!Reader

WORD COUNT: 819

WARNINGS: nsfw, breeding, dubcon, daddy kink (bo refers to himself as daddy multiple times), mommy kink (bo refers to reader as mommy once but not sexually, just in reference to becoming a mom), talk about getting pregnant (bc duhhh), some teasing from bo. kinda proofread. lmk if i missed any tags!

Bo’s tongue runs along the warm flesh of your neck as he pumps his cock inside you. Your body was beginning to ache, your leg muscles cramping from the position he’s held you in for the last half an hour. “F-fuck,” Bo grunts, his breath warm. His voice cracks as he speaks, his hips sputtering. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, gonna cum nice and deep inside you.”

You wince at a particularly deep thrust, your hole clenching tightly around him, and he mistakes it for affection. He always did. You did too sometimes. You feel the hot breath of his laughter before you feel it rumble from his chest, your legs thrown over his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’. Daddys got you, he’s gonna fill you up nice and full, let you carry around his seed. You want that, right?” He asks and you cry out, the stretch of his cock almost too much. You’re not sure why it still hurts after all this time, but a part of you wonders if you like the pain a little too much to accommodate it. “You wanna carry my baby, darlin’?”

Your eyes widen as he asks, feeling his cock twitch inside you. He never spoke like this. In the entire time of you being here in Ambrose - was it weeks or months? Maybe a year? - Bo avoided the topic of family like the plague. You remember asking him once if he ever wanted children, and you remember how hard it was to sit afterwards. His thrusts speed up and you cry out in pain, his cock ramming into you with renewed fervor. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly and he grunts, the noise low in his throat. A growl. A sharp reminder of who he is. 

“Yeah? You fuckin’ want it too, don’t you? Right, Y/N?” He asks, grunting in between each word. He moves his head from the crook of your neck, a flash of appreciation in his eyes as he takes in the hickies and bite marks he had littered across your skin. His blue eyes are dark when he looks at you, sweat glistening off his forehead. “Say it. Say you want my baby and I’ll fuckin’ give it to ya’.” He says and you know he’s close.

You realize you are, too. It was so much easier to feel your own pleasure when you knew Bo was feeling it too. 

“I… I want your baby, Bo. Please.” You stammer out, panting. It felt like the pleasure had hit you out of nowhere, knocking the wind out of you, making you feel all of it at once. There was no growing pit in your stomach and no warning. “Holy shit,” you say, eyes widening as you look up at him. He smiles and you wonder briefly if you’ve ever told him how handsome he was. “I-I’m gonna cum.”

Bo moans, his hands grabbing ahold of your face to keep you looking at him. “Good. Fuck, fuck yeah, cum around my cock, sweetheart, milk me.” He shudders, his eyes squeezing shut. “A-Always heard that it sticks better when you cum too.” He says before he groans loudly, pushing the entire length of his cock inside you as he cums. You feel him spill inside you, gasping at the sheer amount, before your own orgasm rips through you. He whimpers, a noise you rarely got from him, as your pussy clenches around him, making sure you got every drop. “Fuck, you’re so god damn tight.”

Bo catches his breath as you ride out your high, grinning down at you in a way that makes you close your eyes, embarrassed at the intensity. You grunt when he moves your legs off of his shoulders, your muscles tense as they flop back against the bed, his cock still stuffed inside you. “Did you mean it?” You ask quietly, your voice unsure in the dark room. You don’t need to open your eyes to see Bo tilt his head to the side, humming. “About… about giving me your baby?”

His laugh makes you shiver. His finger runs down your cheek as he tsks, mocking. “Aww, are you worried I was lying, darlin’? Worried daddy wasn’t gonna make you a mommy, that I wasn’t gonna give you a baby?” He asks, his voice cruel and low. Your eyes open to look up at him and they widen slightly; you had expected a cruel and teasing grin, but the look on his face was far softer than you had come to know. His usual frown lines were smoothed over, a small smile on his face. He leans down, kissing gently along your cheek and jaw before he settles them right next to your ear. “I meant it, sweetheart. And I’m not done just yet.”

His hips rock forwards slightly and you whimper from overstimulation, your cunt pulsing.

“I’m gonna make sure it takes.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #how 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

[f1nalboys]

Night-Time Worship ; Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!AFAB!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1959

WARNINGS: nsfw, dub/non-con just to be sure and because its bo, somnophilia, oral (fem recieving), fingering (fem recieving), pussy worship, softish bo, the slightest bit of daddy kink at the end (bo calls himself daddy), bo cant be nice to you when youre awake, bo mocks reader, bo knows the reader isn't really in love with him, possessiveness, kinda sorta proofread but i suck so...

Bo keeps his blue eyes trained on you as he slides down the length of the bed, pulling the cover off of you as he does so. Everything he does is deliberate, careful, trying not to wake you from your peaceful sleep, though he can't help but drag his fingers along your bare skin, your body warm under his unsettlingly gentle touch. Last night had been rough, a common occurrence with him, but you had fallen asleep in bed before he had gotten out of the shower. He tried sleeping beside you but something was stirring under his ribcage, a rat burrowing its way through his organs away from the heat of his heart, and he couldn’t stop glancing over at you. And now here he was. 

Bo can still taste the remnants of last night on his tongue, the cigarettes and the liquor and your sweetness all mixing together to make him dizzy as he settles in between your legs. You were in just a t-shirt and underwear, laid out on your side, sound asleep. You’re pliable under his touch, his rough and calloused hands grazing across the flesh of your hips as he turns you on your back. You stir slightly but settle back down, your legs closed together. 

He wets his bottom lip as he pushes your knees apart, his thick fingers hooking around the cotton underwear you wore, pulling it to the side. He leans forwards, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathes in your scent, a shudder going through his body, letting himself get lost in you. It was rare for Bo to pay attention like this, his mind and hands focused solely on you and not his own cock. The quiet and darkness that surrounded him gave him the confidence to take his time with you. His movements were slow, gentle, a grace you were never granted when you were awake. 

In the dead of the night, when you were too tired or fucked up to pay him any mind, Bo allowed himself to treat you the way he wished he could in the morning light. 

He slips the fabric down your legs, leaving it hanging from one of your ankles as he settles onto his stomach, his lower half hanging off of the bed, his face level with your cunt. Reaching his hand towards you, he uses two fingers to spread your lips for him, revealing your already wet core. “Fuck, darlin’,” he whispers, mostly to himself, his eyes trained on your pussy. “All wet for me still, huh? In your dreams, thinking of me down here like this…” He trails off as he carefully blows against your core, watching your body squirm at the coldness of his breath.

“Bo?” You murmur, stirring in your sleep, but he shushes you gently, quieting you down with a press of his fingers against your thigh.

“Go on back to sleep. M’not doing nothing, baby.” He grins when he sees your hole clench and he stays there like this, his face mere inches from your cunt, his fingers keeping your lips spread wide for him, until your breathing evens back out. “Gonna make you feel good, promise,” he whispers, brushing his nose along your inner thigh, his eyes closing. “Just give me a minute, baby.” 

He presses a gentle kiss against your thigh where a few bruises were beginning to form. He knew they were his fingerprints and he grins at the thought of his mark being on you for a few days later, the pain of brushing against them reminding you of the time you two shared. Bo’s eyes open and he shifts his focus back to your pussy, his other hand coming down to lightly press against your clit. Your body reacts as it does when you are awake, your hips twitching, your legs attempting to close. You were still asleep, your head back on the pillow, and Bo brings his fingertips to his mouth, coating them in a generous amount of spit before returning them to your clit.

With him positioned between your legs, it was impossible for them to close, your knees pressing against his shoulders as he begins to rub deliberately slow circles. “How’s that feel, darlin’?” He whispers, not expecting an answer. He doesn’t want one, either; he was in his own head now, imagining a day long from now where the two of you were in love, not whatever it was you felt for him now. A day where you craved his touch instead of allowing it to happen. A day where the first flicker of emotion in your eyes when you saw him was affection and not fear. Bo would never admit that to you, to anyone, not even himself, but he felt it.

His very bones craved to be loved, cracking under the pressure of his own inability to give it. 

Your pussy reacts to his fingers exactly how he hopes, your hole clenching pathetically around nothing, begging him to fill you. He chuckles lowly as your hips squirm against him, not away from his touch, but into it. You let out a small whimper and Bo decides it’s time to reward your body for its patience. He shushes you as he pushes in two fingers, letting out a satisfied groan when he gets to the third knuckle with ease.

“So much easier when you ain’t fightin’ it,” he says, his eyes flicking up to your face displayed in moonlight. Your eyes are still closed and, besides the crease in between your eyebrows, there’s no sign of you waking up just yet. He remembers how much you had drank with him, laughing and telling him you could easily keep up with him and becoming a sloppy mess after a few beers. You had held onto him, your nails digging into his arms, as he fucked you, and despite the fog in your mind, it felt like the first time you had allowed him to see the real you. The one desperate for his touch, for his cock, his cum, his pain and pleasure, in whatever way he’d give it to you. “Still so tight for me, Y/N. I gotta fuck you more, don’t I? Yeah, I do. Gotta stretch my girl out.”

The lack of degradation from himself isn’t lost on Bo, but he buries that down deep, focusing on the task at hand. His fingers begin to pump inside you, curling with each thrust, hitting the part inside you that, when you were awake, had you crying out in pleasure. For now, though, Bo was satisfied with the small squeaks and sighs you were letting out; you couldn’t hide how you felt now. When you were awake you could try to; turning your face away from his never-ending stare and biting your lip until it bled, but here? Now? All you could do was listen to your body.

“Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen, you know that, sweetheart?” He croons, swallowing back a moan. His hips had begun to move on their own, grinding his cock, which was held back only by his underwear, against the mattress. He hisses at the friction, the sound of your wetness filling the room as he fucks the length of his fingers inside you. “So tight, suckin’ my fuckin’ fingers in, can barely pull out. Greedy little pussy, ain’t it?” He laughs at his own comment, drunk off of the feeling of you. 

Bo adds another finger, speeding up, and he leans forwards to lick at your clit. The added pleasure makes your entire body jolt, a low moan pouring from your throat like a wound. He grins, lapping at your cunt as his fingers pump inside your tight pussy. “Fuck,” he grunts against you, closing his eyes and losing himself in the taste and feel of you. “Your pussy tastes so good, baby, come on.” He wraps his pink lips around your clit, sucking gently, humming around it. You tasted better than any liquor he could find and you fucked him up just as much.

“Cum for me, baby, show me you love me.”

You do. You wake up as you cum, half asleep and delirious as the rug is pulled out from under you, your body convulsing, hand reaching out to tangle into his hair. “Holy shit!” You pant, your hips grinding down against his fingers and tongue, prolonging the pleasure. Bo lets you ride out your orgasm, pulling away with a satisfied and smug smile, pulling his fingers out of your cunt before popping them into his mouth. “Bo? Did… did you just…?” You look down at him, your face hot, blinking away your grogginess.

“Make you cum? Yeah,” he says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He sits up on the bed, towering over your frame. “Your poor little pussy was soaked before I even started touching you, darlin’. Clenching, calling out to be, begging for my tongue and my fingers.” His grin turns a touch darker, the shadows of the room casting an eerie appearance on his handsome face. “And you let me. Stayed asleep and let me make you feel real good.”

You swallow thickly, your brain still foggy from the alcohol of last night and the sleep you had just been in. He grins, seeing how confused you look, and he leans forward, his hand resting beside you, his body in between your legs. His fingers press against your lips, gently at first. ”Open up. See how sweet you taste when you don’t hold back for me.” When your lips don’t part you see his jaw clench before his fingers press down harder. “C’mon now. Don’t be fuckin’ difficult.” Anger simmers behind his eyes. “Oh, I get it. Maybe you liked that you were asleep. Liked that you didn’t have to pretend to hate it this time ‘round.”

“Bo-” You say, gagging when he shoves his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. He smirks, staring down at you as you hesitantly wrap your lips around his thick fingers, your eyes flicking up to meet his gaze.

“Bo.” He mocks, a wave of shame washing over you as you squirm underneath him. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and wipes the spit onto your cheek, grabbing your chin roughly. Any restraint or gentleness he had shown you while you were asleep was gone now, not that you had a clue. “No, please don’t eat my pussy while I sleep, Bo. Don’t make me cum, don’t make me feel good, don’t give me what I fuckin’ want when I’m too fuckin’ bitchy to ask.” His voice is higher pitched now, making fun of you. His voice returns to its gruff and angry tone as he leans in, his face inches from yours. “You’re mine, Y/N. When you’re awake, when you’re asleep, when you’re fucking dreaming; you are fucking mine. Forever. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

Bo tilts his head at you as he asks, letting out a satisfied hum when you give him a slow nod. “Good. Now, thank me for making you cum without you havin’ to fuckin’ beg for it.”

Swallowing back your shame, your rage, you force a smile up at him, the wetness and heat between your thighs evident. “Thank you, Bo. That was… thank you. I don’t deserve you.” You say, forcing the words out, feeling yourself clench as he pulls his underwear down enough to pull his cock out, swiping it through your folds. You hate to admit it, but you knew it was the truth. You were his, forever.

“You’re welcome sweetheart. Now just lay still, alright? Let daddy cum and we can go back to bed.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys works #f1nalboys writing #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

[f1nalboys]

Takin' It - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x GN!AFAB!Reader

wrote this based off this one singular textpost i made when i was also high. enjoy

WORD COUNT: 695

WARNINGS: nsfw, pegging, bottom!bo, top!reader, reader uses a strap but does refer to it as a cock at one point, doggy style, making bo beg, face down ass up, degradation sorta, reader ended up way meaner than originally planned so enjoy that, vauge hints at bo being a dickhead outside of sex, like a vauge primal urge to fuck bo, both reader and bo are called a bitch, bo calls reader sweetheart/baby/bitch lol, proofread but im currently high and wrote this in an hour so.... take with that what you will <3

“F-fuck you!”

It never failed to make you laugh at just how often Bo ran his mouth. Whether it was in the morning when he decided the breakfast you cooked was too cold, or the afternoon when you had dropped the flashlight you were holding for him in the sweltering garage and he had berated you for an hour, or earlier in the night when he had made some snide comment. Or, like right now, when he was bent over the bed with the blankets gripped tight in his fingers and his face squished into the mattress. His mouth just never seemed to stop running.

“Shut the fuck up, wouldja?” You grunt, hips snapping forwards harshly, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room followed by a sharp hiss from Bo, though it was slightly muffled, just like everything else he said. “How’s it feel, Bo, huh? I can feel you shaking under me.”

For once, Bo doesn’t answer you. You can just barely make out the stitched brow, the open mouth, the few tears that had slipped down his cheek mixing with the sheen of sweat that covered him in the darkness of the room. Your hand, which had been holding onto his hips for the last thirty minutes, dig into the plump flesh, eliciting another hiss and you can’t help but grin down at him when you feel the resistance as you push back inside him. 

“Aw, look at that, fuck. You love it, don’t you? Feeling my cock inside you like this, making you take it,” you grunt, your thrusts speeding up, getting harder. Briefly, you wonder if this is why Bo acted the way he did; being on top and feeling, seeing, smelling every change in your body and being overcome with an urge so interwoven with your body that you act without thinking? Wanting to get more from you and knowing you could give it if he just did it a bit harder, a bit faster, for a bit longer? “You better tell me or I’ll stop.”

Bo makes a choked noise, a sob, and you moan under your breath, sweat rolling down the back of your neck. “Fuckin’ bitch!” Bo spits and you start to pull out, both hands resting on his hips to push him off of you, only another inch or two of the silicon left inside of him, and his hand reaches behind him to blindly grab at your hip. “D-Don’t! Dontchu fuckin’ dare!”

“You better get to begging then, bitch.” You say, leaning over and grabbing him by the hair like he has done to you time and time again, yanking him up. The toy is forced back inside him, deeper than it’s ever been, and you can feel the vibrations of a moan as your other hand rests against his throat. His head, being held back in the angle it was, reveals to you the perfect view of his fucked out face. 

Tanned and lightly freckled skin, weathered from days outside, covered in sweat and a redness that went from his nose to the tips of his ears. His eyes are half-lidded, eyes rolling into the back of his head every few seconds. You laugh at the drool that had collected in the corner of his mouth. A tug on the brown locks threaded between your fingers brings him back to the surface just enough to break his resolve.

“Fuckin’ shit! M’sorry, baby, keep going, alright? I do love it, shit, I do, Y/N! God, j-just like that, sweetheart, don’t you stop, alright? Christ, when’d you get this fucking strong, huh?” He asks, accent so much thicker when he’s not thinking about it. A brief squeeze on his throat and now that shit-eating grin is back on his face and he’s rocking his hips back, fucking himself on the toy as you catch your breath behind him. “You like given’ it to me, darlin’?”

You grin, leaning in and nipping at his neck. “I get the appeal.” You whisper, jerking your hips forwards and taking back over for him. “Now hurry the fuck up and cum or you don’t get to tonight.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #house of wax #bo sinclair #slashers #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher #slasher x y/n #HOW 2005

[f1nalboys]

BROOK! (💕) I've got a 'Lost Boys' belated Friday The 13th HC request!

I've had this thought rattling around in my brain for a while now, so let's see what you can make of it!

In their lair, I imagine there's plenty of dark, shadowy crevices in the ceiling in which to hide, and, perverted hedonists that they are, I can easily see any one of them unfairly using it to their advantage...

So, how do you think each of 'The Boys' would react if, after they hide up there when you *think* they've gone out hunting, they get to not only watch you finger yourself to orgasm...but hear you moan their name when you cum?

KELLLYYYYY!!! this was such a good ask, ive honestly missed these losers so much JSGDBSJ!!! i hope this is good and thanks for sending in an ask!! :3 below the cut is marko, paul, and david !!

DWAYNE: Dwayne will literally stay there and watch the ENTIRE time. This guy has the best self restraint out of any of the others, ANDDD he's the biggest voyeur, so he’s going to (at most) move so he can see you better!!! Dwayne will stay up there for hours, his eyes fixated on your hand and how it moves, how your fingers pump inside you and what speed. And yes, don't you worry, he is keeping track of it all to use against you at a later date. When you moan his name when you cum his resolve FINALLY breaks and i’m so dead serious when I say he instantly drops to the floor and gets his fingers on you!!

Dwayne swallows heavily, watching you as your fingers pump in and out of you at a steady pace. “Fuck,” you murmur, and though he’s far from you he swears he can feel your breath against his skin. His tongue swipes across his swollen bottom lip as he imagines it’s his fingers inside you, making you squirm and pant and curse. “Dwayne!” His eyes flash yellow as you cum, your back arching off of the bed, and he drops to the floor. He’s silent and you don’t notice him until you feel his calloused fingertips press down on your clit. Your eyes pop open, your gasp muffled by his hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to understand that he saw it all, that he bided his time, and that now he was going to make you forget everything but his name. 

MARKO: Marko is second to last in the self-restraint department so I really don't think he could stay away while you touch yourself, like the man who get a WHIFF of it and he's in your face like “hi hello did u need help i'm going to help, move your hand-” like relax?? But if by some grace of god he’s able to hold back (whether that be on the ceiling or standing near you but you don't notice type thing), everything is out the window when you say his name. Like he's ripping your fingers out of you (ruining your orgasm because he SUCKS) and he’s shoving his own inside (and he's an asshole so he’s scissoring them inside you and going way harder than you’d expect him too) all while grinning in your face 

You moan Markos name, your eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm you’ve been slowly building up to finally comes to the surface. Just as the pleasure begins to wash over you, you feel someone grab your wrist, nails digging into your flesh as they rip your fingers out of you. Your orgasm is ruined in an instant and your eyes fly open, face hot in both anger and arousal, but when you see the sinister smile on Markos face, a flash of fear crosses your features. He tsks, bringing your fingers up to his mouth and sucking them, his eyes narrowing at the taste of you. “I’m sorry,” he says in mock apology as he pulls them from his lips, his teeth grazing along the flesh as he does so. “Did I interrupt you, baby?” He smiles again but it's far from kind. His fingers dip inside your hole roughly and you whine at the intrusion. He hushes you as he sets a steady and rough pace, fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Just let me make it up to you then, alright? Take it like we both know you can.”

PAUL: Like Marko, Paul has zero self restraint when it comes to you LMFAO. I don't think he’d even care to wait for you to cum before he’s suddenly at your side, cooing in your ear about what a needy slut you are. He feels like the only one to ask if you were mad at him and if thats why you waited until you thought he was gone to touch yourself and regardless of what you say he’s gonna give you a pretty smile and get on his knees to apologize. You’ll be moaning his name when he cums but he’s going to be the one to do it to you

Paul’s breath on your neck has your eyes popping open, your fingers stalling inside yourself. He laughs and then he’s right there, slipping into the bed beside you and pressing close. “Hi, sweetheart,” he whispers against your neck, placing a few kisses along your pulse. “Missed me?” You don’t have to see him to know he has a shit eating grin on his face. “Poor baby, your hole was just aching, right?” You whine when you feel his hand teasingly ghost along your skin, his fingers running across your thighs. “You mad at me or something sweetheart? That why you waited to fuck yourself until you thought I was gone?” It’s useless, but you shake your head, lips parting to tell him that of course you weren’t mad, but then he’s sliding down the length of the bed and positioning himself in between your legs, a hungry look in his eyes. “Let me make it up to you and your needy little hole, alright?” His mouth opens and he gives you one last grin before he lets his tongue swipe over your hole, his hands holding your thighs apart.

DAVID: Ah, David, David, David. My annoying little guy. He has a little less patience than Dwayne, so he’d reveal himself before you came but he’s not touching you. No, you wanted to cum from your own fingers, that’s what you’re going to do! He’ll perch on the edge of the bed or, his favorite thing to do, sit in a chair in front of you and make you spread your legs wider so he can see every single pump of your fingers. He might occasionally order you to slow down, speed up, do it harder, etc but for the most part he’s going to stare you down and let you pleasure yourself because he knows no matter how good you feel right then, it’s nothing compared to what he makes you feel. In all honesty, David would probably make you keep going; you wanted to cum so badly you can keep going until he’s satisfied!

“Don’t stop now,” he says, his voice level as he takes a drag of his cigarette. You swallow heavily, staring at him from the edge of the bed where he sat in his chair, his legs spread, an almost bored expression on his face. If it weren’t for the obvious bulge in his pants, you might think he was annoyed with you. “You wanted to cum without me, that’s what you’re going to do.” You whine but relent, beginning to pump your fingers inside yourself. His gaze helps ignite the fire inside your gut once more, the occasional order he gives you makes your head spin as you’d listen, and soon enough you’re cumming, crying out his name. He watches with a disinterested expression, his hand slowly palming himself over his pants. “Why are you stopping?” His voice is gruff as he asks and when your head tilts in confusion, he smiles at you, baring his teeth like an animal, a puff of smoke spilling from his mouth. “You think you’re done because you came?” He leans forwards in his seat, shadows dancing across his face. “You’re not done until I tell you you’re done, slut.”

#b does ft13 #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys works #f1nalboys writing #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #paul tlb #david tlb #dwayne tlb #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #slashers #slasher x reader #poly!tlb #poly!tlb x reader #paul tlb x reader #david tlb x reader #marko tlb x reader #dwayne tlb x reader

[f1nalboys]

Watching Part 2 ; Stu Macher and Billy Loomis

Stu Macher x Fem!AFAB!Reader x Billy Loomis

haiiii :3 heres a short part 2 / continuation of Watching that i posted last year! this one is more so billy and stu but youre there youre watching and youre loving what youre seeing fr >:) maybe expect a part 3 but idk when thatll be, peace and love! this is another multi-may fic created and ran by @bisexual-horror-fan so <3 hehe

WORD COUNT: 960

WARNINGS: nsfw, handjob, dom!stu and sub!billy but theyre both switches, dirty talk, voyeuristic reader, i just love them yall <3. stu calls billy a good boy and i think he should be rewarded for that, not proofread sorry i am so lazy, technically pre!poly!ghostface but the end is basically the agreement you know?

“You think I’m mad you kissed my girlfriend?” Stu asks, grinning. Billy and you look between each other and then Stu is reaching over and wrapping his hand around Billy’s cock, giving it a tug. “You ate her out, ate my cum, and think I’d be mad about a kiss?” Billy stutters, taken off guard by the feeling of Stu’s hand slowly pumping him and the sight of your hand sneaking in between your legs. “C’mere. Let me show you that I’m not mad.”

Stu leans in, kissing Billy, his hand tightening around his cock. Billy’s head feels like it’s swimming, heavy with lust, and he’s letting Stu take the lead with him, moaning when his tongue slips inside his mouth. You watch the both of them, your boyfriend and his best friend, kiss with increasing fervor, Stu’s hand never stopping. Your own hand had slid back in between your own legs and you sigh at the feeling of your fingers brushing against your sensitive bud.

You had thought about this a lot, Billy joining the two of you. It had been a long-term fantasy, way before you and Stu had gotten together, when you were at home late at night with your hand down your pajama pants. After Stu had asked you out you had thought that was the end of it, a fantasy that would remain just that. That doesn’t mean you ever stopped thinking about it, though. When you were away from Stu for whatever reason you'd find your thoughts drifting to another set of hands, another tongue, but Stu was never far off. 

And now here you were, spread out on the couch, touching yourself as they kissed, face covered in Billy’s cum and Stu’s leaking out of your cunt. You whimper, eyes drifting down to where Stu was jerking Billy off. You had never thought he could be submissive but Billy was letting Stu do whatever he wanted, moaning into the kiss with sounds so pornographic that it rivaled your own.”Fu-uck,” He grunts, hips bucking as Stu’s thumb runs over the leaking head of his cock. He was so hard already and it was almost too much for him. Almost.

“Feels good?” Stu asks, pulling away from Billy’s lips to stare at him, eyes searching his own. Billy nods and Stu grins, eyes flicking over to your frame. “Fuck, look at her, dude,” he grabs Billys chin roughly, turning him to face you, his hand on Billy’s cock speeding up. “She’s loving this. Bet she wants you to cum again. Isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes, fuck, please?” You ask, your own hand speeding up in tangent with Stu’s. This was so fucking hot, seeing Billy all whiney, his breathes quick and pathetic, voice cracking each time he tried to speak. “Billy, please.” Billy’s head falls onto Stu’s shoulder with a whine and you swear he was crying with the way his shoulders were moving. The thought of him crying from pleasure shouldn’t be so fucking good but it was.

Billy cums just a few seconds later with a cry, cum covering Stu’s hand. Stu laughs, staring at you while he drains Billy, a devious smile on his face, the flashing of the TV behind him making him look far more sinister than you thought he ever could. “Good boy, Billy. Right baby? Didn’t he do so good for us?”

You nod, humming out your agreement, head fuzzy from the scene in front of you. “So good,” You get out and Billy’s body twitches at the praise. His head remained in the crook of Stu’s neck and Stu can feel the heat radiating off of him, can feel the embarrassment sweeping over his body and you can too. “We have to do this more.”

“Wha-what?” Billy asks, finally lifting his head to look at you. His forehead was damp with sweat, his cheeks red. “You… you two would want…really?”

“Course man,” Stu says easily, running a hand through Billy’s sweaty hair. You grin at the gentleness of it; you had always known that there was something between those two, a love and respect that went further than just friends. “If you want to, obviously. But I’m pretty sure she,” Stu nods his head in your direction and you grin. “Would love to get fucked by you.”

You can see a flash of… something cross Billy’s face as he looks at you, thinking about sinking his cock inside your cunt while Stu watches and eggs him on. He wonders how tight you are, how you’d feel pulsing and squeezing around him. He wonders how pretty you’d sound begging for him to fill you up instead. 

He nods his head, pushing at Stu’s chest to get the other man to finally stop stroking him. “Alright, alright,” he says with a slight laugh, trying to bury the worry and embarrassment of how quickly Stu had been able to make him cum down. He pulls at his sweatpants, standing and tucking himself away. “We missed the movie.”

You all turn towards the movie and you laugh. “Blame that one, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” You bring your fingers to your mouth and suck on them, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of you and Stu mixed together. For a second, you wonder what the three of you together would taste like, what it would feel like, and you can feel heat rise to your face. “Next time I’m sitting next to Billy.”

“Who said I’d keep my hands to myself?” 

“I think she’s counting on that, Billy.” Stu says, leaning over and placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. You give him a grin, shrugging your shoulders. You were counting on it. “Let’s clean you up, baby.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #poly!ghostface #billy x reader x stu #billy loomis x stu macher #slasher #ghostface #ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #multi may

[f1nalboys]

Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.” 

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?” 

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much. 

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.” 

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod. 

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog. 

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind. 

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.” 

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad. 

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over. 

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.” 

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop. 

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it. 

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop. 

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you. 

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you. 

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more. 

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him. 

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you. 

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside. 

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did. 

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.” 

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt. 

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours. 

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again. 

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock. 

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care. 

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #slashers #slasher fic #scream fic

[f1nalboys]

Movie Night ; Randy Meeks

Randy Meeks x Fem!AFAB!Reader

haiiii guys :3 sorry ive been away for so long. im still not totally back, i had inspo for this after a convo me and tati had and i needed it OUT of my brain tbh!!! pls be gentle with me this is legit the first thing ive written in months JSGJBSGB anyways!!! i hope u all enjoy it take this as a silly kinktober kinda thing? idk <3 peace and love babies ily all

WORD COUNT: 1083

WARNINGS: smut, dark!randy and if you squint, ghostface!randy, handjob, implied fingering, slight dom!reader but it's switchy, randy gets jerked off to a slasher film, just kinda fucked up if you look at the implications of everything... not proofread bc im so lazy please be kind to me <3

The apartment was dark. Everything had been flicked off, even the overhead light of the oven that Randy always kept on so he could see in the middle of the night, leaving the TV as the only source of light in the entire apartment. On the slightly out of focus screen was a generic slasher from the late 80’s, one Randy had rented and seen a million times before, but he wasn’t focused on the screen. No, he was sitting there with his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his lips pink and swollen, your hand wrapped around his cock.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You purr into his ear, your other hand running through his hair. Your movements are slow, calculated, and Randy is barely able to swallow back a moan as he nods his head, his eyes still squeezed shut. He can feel the vibration of your chest and he flushes, knowing you were laughing at him. “Your favorite scene’s coming up, Ray,” you say, your hand stalling its movements at the base of his cock as you squeeze gently, drawing a sharp hiss from him. “Don’t wanna miss that, now do you?”

Randy shakes his head, swallowing heavily as he forces himself to open his eyes. His pants were shoved down his thighs just enough to pull his cock out and yet you were still fully clothed. He glances over at you and the large smile on your face and he squirms, breathing a little harder as he tries to talk to you. “You sure you don’t wanna ride me, baby?” He asks, giving you a small smile when you shake your head. “You’re such a tease.” He murmurs, moaning when your hand moves up slowly, your grip still tight.

“How am I a tease if I’m letting you cum?”

“Beacuse, fuck,” his head tips forwards before he swallows, looking back up. You were still curled into his side, pressed tight against him, and the movie had gotten to Randy’s favorite chase scene in the entire movie. He glances at you. “Because you’re using your hand.” 

“You seem to be enjoying my hand.”

“Oh, I am, don’t worry. I just know, mmf, fuck, I know that your tight pussy would feel so much better.”

You laugh, shaking your head as your movements speed up a little bit. You squeeze tighter around his tip, drawing a long moan from him. “You’re such a charmer, but you asked for this, remember?” You say, your lips just by his ear as you whisper. “Now, keep your fucking eyes on the screen or I stop completely, okay?”

Randy nods as he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes searching your face and, after deciding you were actually serious, turning to look at the TV. The final girls best friend was being chased all through her large house, the masked killer wielding his knife chasing after her. Randy swallows heavily as your hand begins to move faster, just a little bit, his heart beating in tune with it. 

“Fuck,” he moans as the killer slices at the girl who’s name he can’t even remember, her shirt getting cut off. It was cheesy and stupid, something Randy would normally roll his eyes at, but he knew what came next. His cock throbs under your palm, slick with your spit and his pre-cum, and he whimpers as you begin to swipe your thumb over the head of his cock with each pass of your hand. “Ke-keep going, please?”

His question is closer to a beg, but not quite there. His eyes roll into the back of his head for a second but he keeps them focused hazily on the screen. The girl was running slower, the house dark. Randy’s breathing picks up and his hand, which had been on your thigh, squeezes you tightly, his nails digging into your flesh. The girl was cornered now, the killer standing above her as she begs for him to stop, to leave her alone, to go away. She slinks down the wall, the killer looming tall, his mask and the knife the only discernible thing about him.

Randy’s hips twitch ever so slightly as the killer drags the blade down the girl's tear-streaked cheek, a thin line of blood bubbling up in its wake. He can���t help but replace the girl with you, imagining the fear in your eyes as he, masked and unknown to you just yet, hunts you down like an animal. “Holy shit, baby, fuck!” He grunts as the killer raises his knife and your hand speeds up, jerking him off as quick as you can. Randy’s hips thrust up into your hand as the knife is plunged into the screaming girl's chest.

He grunts, an almost animalistic sound, thrusting his cock into your hand in tune with the knife. He lets the pleasure overtake him, his cock the knife, your hand your body, and he cums, the only other sound besides his moans being the gurgle of life leaving the poor girl’s throat one final time before she slumps over. Randy lets his head tip backwards as he finishes cumming, your hand and his cock covered in cum. His hips stop moving and he sits there beside you, staring at the dark ceiling as he catches his breath.

“How was that?” You murmur. “Everything you thought it would be?” Tilting your head, you bring your hand to your mouth and lick away the cum that has covered your skin, a smug smile on your face. He looks over at you, his cheeks flushed pink, and he gives you a toothy grin, leaning in to kiss you. It’s a sweet kiss, one you always expected from Randy, with just a bit of heat underneath it.  “It was fucking amazing, Y/N.” He says against your lips, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. The kiss deepens for just a second before the noises of the movie draw his attention; it was the final chase scene, the bloody battle against good and evil.

When he pulls back his hand slides down your shoulder and arm down to your waist, his large hand tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Get this off,” His voice is gruffer as his hand slides down again, this time to your pants, your breath hitching in your throat at the feeling of his calloused fingertips dipping past your waistband. “And these. Let me repay the favor, final girl.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #randy meeks #scream 1996 #scream 2 #scream 1997 #randy meeks x reader #randy meeks x y/n #ghostface!randy meeks

[f1nalboys]

In Video - Randy Meeks

Randy Meeks

WORD COUNT: 1250

WARNINGS: nsfw, randy eats out his pocket pussy, randy watches porn and imagines its you, randy cums untouched, switch randy, no reader present but they're mentioned, thats it thats the warnings...maybe distracted driving at the very beginning? idk man, not proofread

Randy couldn’t wait to get home. The VHS tape he had once again renewed was burning a hole in the brown paper bag it was inside and all Randy wanted was to go home, settle down into his bed, and cum to the sight of the contents. He was alone in the car, a mere 5 minutes out from his house, and he lets his mind wander, only a little bit.

One hand drops to his lap, rubbing himself over his jeans ever so slightly, and Randy sighs at the friction. “Only five more minutes,” He mutters to himself, head tilting back slightly as he palms himself harder. He was already aching, the video - which was practically burned into his mind - playing in his head.

The video starts with two people kissing, the girl's hands dragging down the man's already-bare torso until she reaches his lap. He was only wearing underwear and she palmed him carefully, laughing against his lips when he moans at her touch. Randy can see the way she fishes his cock out of his underwear, tugging at it quickly without so much as a blink. She was in control.

She looked like you.

A car horn brings Randy back to reality and he gulps, shaking the thoughts from his head and focusing back on the road. He was three minutes away from home now and he could focus, had to focus, on the road and not the ache in his cock.

By the time Randy pulls into his driveway he’s sweating, desperate to touch himself. He keeps his bookbag in front of his lap as he gets out, rushing upstairs into the apartment building, barely able to force a smile to his neighbor. “Finally,” He huffs as he slams his front door shut, unzipping his bag and pulling the VHS out and heading to his bedroom.

He didn’t even need the sound on, he realizes as he puts the tape in, slipping his jacket off, pulling his jeans down and kicking them off before crawling into bed. He had watched this particular tape so many times before that if he closes his eyes and thinks, really thinks, he can hear and see everything. He can hear the whimpers and moans the girl let out when the man took control, flipping her onto her back and forcing her legs open. He can see the way she rocked her hips against the man, fucking herself onto him. But most of all, the part that made his cock twitch whenever he thought about it being you, was when she rode his face, fingers tangled in his hair as she used his mouth. That’s what he remembers.

The video starts as it always does and Randy lets his eyes flutter shut, his hand rubbing against his cock over his boxers. The friction was intense and he let out a soft whine, bordering on a whimper, as he grinds his palm down harder. If you were there, you’d be taking care of him. Randy lets the sounds flowing from his TV envelope himself completely as his mind drifts from the two on the tape to you and him. 

He’s been too nervous to ask you out. When he saw you in his film class that first day, he was hooked. He listened to every word you said, watched each syllable curl around your tongue, and pass your lips. He watches your hands, how you hold your pencil and pick at your nails and how you flatten your clothes before you sit down. He notices everything about you; He could pick you out of a crowd in an instant just by the way your perfume smelled as you walked past. 

Randy opens his eyes, blinking away the fog he was beginning to develop. He was hard, his cock aching and leaking inside his boxers, and he had to let out a shaky breath as he removed his hand, leaning over in bed and grabbing his toy from his bedside table. It was his pocket pussy and, without thinking, he brings it down and grinds it against his cock. 

“F-fuck!” He moans, hips bucking into the toy. Randy pulls it away but his hips flex again, grinding against the air. He could cum just from that, from the feeling of grinding against nothing, but only if he did this. He closes his eyes shut and places the toy above his lips.

He had matched his movements perfectly. The second his tongue swipes through the silicone folds, the girl, the one who he pretended was you, moans as she sinks down onto the mans face. Randy continues to move his tongue, slowly, up and down, taking care to flick his tongue on the clit.

Keeping his hand balled into a fist at his side, Randy thinks about you. He imagines it’s you hovering over his mouth, too shy to fully sit, and when he pushes the toy down against his mouth he thinks about how he’d wrap his arms around your thighs and force you to sit on his face. 

He thinks about you; would you moan as loud as the girl in the video? Would you grind your cunt down on his face and tangle your hands in his hair to hold his face still? Would you laugh at the sight of him below you, humping the air with a leaking cock, knowing that he loved the taste of you so much he could cum just from you covering his tongue? Would your body twitch when you came, forcing you to roll your hips even when the pleasure became almost too much?

Randy can feel himself getting close. With each thrust of his hips, the swollen head of his cock would rub against the fabric of his underwear, sending a shockwave of pleasure down his spine. “Y/N,” He moans, lips still against the toy. He was sloppy, saliva trailing down his neck, his mouth filling the room with wet sounds. The more he thought of you, how wet you would be, how sweet you’d taste, the more desperate he got. “Use me.”

His free hand, which had remained at his side, nails splitting open his palm, moves quickly to his head, fingers gripping his hair, and he tugs hard. The action hurts and he winces but then he’s imagining your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling harshly, using him for your pleasure without thinking about his, and he cums, tears springing up into his eyes.

He cries out your name, hips lifting from the mattress, lips sucking at the toys clit, his hand tugging harder. He cums hard, voice breaking into a sobbed moan, covering his underwear in cum, and then he’s finished, body collapsing back against the mattress. The hand holding the toy falls to the side and the one tangled in his hair falls to the other. There was a dull thud in his head and his chest was heaving from exhaustion, a sheen of sweat covering his entire body.

Randy sighs, head tilting back to the side and seeing the porn still playing. He gulps, cock twitching, as the man grabs the girl's legs, pushing them towards her chest, and pushing back inside without warning. Seeing her go from having total control and using him as her own fuck toy to a whimpering and wet mess was enough to drive him crazy, hand wrapping around his cock. He’d get to have you like that one day. 

He knew it.

#randy meeks #f1nalboys works #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #scream #scream 1996 #scream 1997 #scream 2 #randy meeks x reader #randy meeks x y/n