Slasher X You - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐘 — masterlist
pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader
Summary: Patrick gives up control for one night. It doesn’t exactly go the way that you want it to.
— warnings: nsfw content, sub!patrick but he still has psychological control ofc, blowjobs, teasing, restraints, choking
"Are you trying to get me to beg?" Patrick asks, his brows knitting together as he watches your naked frame kneel before him, an uncomfortable throb shooting to the tent in his briefs as your tongue darts out to wet your lips. "Because if that's what you're doing, then I can assure you that I'm not going to plead to get you to touch me."
A soft coo slips past your lips as you stroke your fingers up Patrick's thigh, the muscle tensing involuntarily as your digits teasingly edge closer to the place where he wants you to touch him the most. You can tell that he's frustrated by the ticking of his jaw and the flaring of his nostrils, and you shoot him a loving smile as he glares down at you.
"You know how much I want you to beg," you murmur, your eyes glinting with mischief as you cup Patrick's hard cock through his briefs, a low groan drawing from the depth of his throat as you do so. "Please, Patrick? I want to hear how badly you want me."
"I'm not going to beg you to touch me.” His voice is emotionless, yet his throat grows dry when he watches your tongue comes out again, this time not to wet your lips but to lick at the outline of his cock through his briefs. "I'll get what I want eventually.” He tenses as you leave a wet stripe up his briefs, before he mockingly adds, “honey.”
You pout, your fingers careful as they slip under the band of his briefs, tugging at the Italian-made cotton softly. "At least pretend like I'm the one in control here," you huff, your hand curling around his cock, your lips quirking upwards as his pink tip leaks with precum. "Humour me a little, Patrick. Beg. Please?”
Patrick tries to ignore how comedic this situation actually is. He's the one tied up right now — his wrists are bound together with rope and he's tethered to the headboard, but somehow, he has all of the control. You're literally begging him to plead with you. If he was in your position and you were denying him of such sweetness, he'd bring out one of his knives and then you'd start blubbering and pleading like it's nobody's business.
He decides to humour you.
"Please suck my cock, honey. I need it so bad. I need it more than anything," he says flatly, the tip of his cock twitching against your cupid's bow as you beam up at him, "you have no idea what you do to me."
Surprisingly, it doesn't work.
"Don't mock me, Patrick. You're a little bit frustrated. I can see how tense you are." A low groan draws from his throat as you lick a delicate stripe up his length, careful to trace along his veins, your tongue sweetly swirling around his swollen head when you reach his tip. "If you don't comply with my orders, you're not getting what you want."
"Just put it in your mouth."
"I'll put it in my mouth when you ask me properly."
There it is — the tick in his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils, the intense, downcast gaze. You're pushing his boundaries, and you grin as he huffs, your lips carefully pressing gentle kisses against his length.
Your movements are incredibly gentle as you cup his balls in the palm of your hand, your tongue flicking out to toy with the needy head of his cock. His eyes crinkle shut and his nose scrunches as you lick a slow, deliberate stripe from the head of his cock down to his balls, your tongue flattening against his length as you bring your skilful muscle back up to his tip.
It's torture. Delicious torture. His nostrils flare when you pull away, a lewd string of spit trailing from his cock to your lips. You look up at him through lidded eyes, and your heart races in your chest as you see how black and blown his pupils are, his hazel irises sheathed from the dilation of his lust.
Pride resides in the depth of Patrick's chest. He didn't think you actual had it in you to tease him, but as you pepper sultry kisses to his cock, he realises that he's actually beginning to lose patience. His hips thrust against your face involuntarily, and an embarrassing whine catches in his throat as you tease him.
"I won't ask again," he says, and there's an edge to his tone that has your heart wrenching and fear prickling at your skin, "put it in your mouth. Please."
You smile.
It's the closest you're ever going to get to Patrick pleading with you. This small act of submission is enough — his bound wrists were his idea, not yours, meaning he was still in control even when he was complying with your demands to be domineering for once.
"Only because you asked so nicely," you tease, flinching under his warning gaze, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock carefully.
Your mouth is so warm and so wet, and Patrick's jaw clenches so hard that he wonders how he hasn't broken a tooth in the process. You feel so good as you roll your head up and down his cock lazily, your tongue trailing around his length as you force your head down, your nose pressing against his crotch as you take every inch of his cock inside of your mouth.
You gag. It's like heaven — the constriction of your throat tightens the grip your mouth has on his cock, and the warm, familiar feeling of arousal pools in your belly as Patrick hisses from above you, the muscles of his thighs flexing underneath your touch. There's something so intimate about how he's giving himself to you, how he's allowing you to have control, and you flush under his heavy gaze as you choke around his length, still not quite used to the uncomfortable girth of his cock.
"I'm glad that I made you bind me to the bed with these ropes," Patrick breathes from above you, his eyes starry as your tongue flicks over his tip, rolling over his slit carefully. "I want to hurt you so badly. If I wasn't restrained I think I'd ruin you completely."
The twitching head of his cock is a good enough signal that he's close. He grunts from above you, and it feels like he's been punched as his eyes lock onto yours, your mouth set upwards into a smile, your mouth glistening with salvia and precum.
Patrick's eyelids flutter shut, and you giggle as he groans again — usually he's not so vocal — using his moans as means of encouragement, forcing your head down, taking in all of his length, until you can no longer breathe breathe.
Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your lungs are burning by the time that he cums. You struggle against him, squeezing your eyes shut, taking in every inch of him, your tongue lewdly lapping at his balls in an attempt to shock him through his orgasm.
And it works. Patrick is so tense that you can feel every single indentation of muscle, and your fingers dart over his chiselled abs, your cunt pulsing with need as he spews incoherent insults from above you.
By the time your breathing has steadied and you've finished swallowing, Patrick is no longer tense. He's no longer twitching, but his cock is still hard and heavy, a small bead of cum dribbling down his length as he gazes at you such fire you feel like you're being set alight.
"Untie me," he says, his voice dripping with authority and warning, “now."
"Yes, Patrick." You scramble towards him, quick to loosen the knots in the rope, your heart thrashing wildly in your chest.
You realise that the only reason you were in control then is because Patrick let you be. Once the knots are untied, his hands scatter towards your throat, and your eyes are wide and frantic as he presses down on your trachea, cutting off your air supply, making you feel dumb and incredibly horny.
His eyes blaze wildly as he gazes down at you, and he smirks, his pearly white teeth glistening in the florescent lights of his bedrooms as he promises, "you're in for a long night, honey."
𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 | masterlist
pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader
— warnings: nsfw content ! bondage, rope, ptrick bateman, p in v, mentions of murderous urges
summary: There's a thin line between pleasure and pain. Patrick lets you walk that line — if anyone else did, it would snap.
"Do you like it?”
Patrick’s voice is sultry, calm; a lewd illusion of the man he is, the desire which consumes him. Being bound to his bed with rope is surreal - you squirm under his cool touch, trying to hide the discomfort which pulsates through you.
“It’s different.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re honest, and Patrick grins in response. “It feels too tight.”
“I could’ve made it tighter.” Patrick's breath fans your neck, and you’re suddenly more aware of how out-of-place he looks. Whilst you’re naked, splayed in front of him ready to be devoured, he’s fully dressed in a Valentino, classic charcoal, pinstriped double-breasted suit. His suited arms reach up towards your bound wrists, and your eyes flitter shut as you imagine what he would look like naked - how his arms would flex as he loosens the rope slightly. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Patrick.”
His hum of approval vibrates through you, as his fingers dart over your thighs, before slowly trailing toward your cunt. “I want to do terrible things to you. Do you know that? I want to—“ Patrick’s fingers shake slightly and his voice wavers, his digits darting over your slits and finding a home in your cunt. “—I want to ruin you.”
“But you won’t.” Your eyes squeeze shut as his fingers curl inside you, his hand growing slick with your wetness. Satisfied squelches echo across his bedroom, and your stomach tightens with each come hither motion of his fingers.
“But I won’t.” Patrick agrees, letting out a shaky breath that jitters against your neck. “Because when I start ruining you, I’m not going to be able to stop. I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead and maybe at the end of it all, you would be.”
“So I’m spared,” you breathe, a broken mewl slipping past your lips as Patrick’s fingers effortlessly flicker you closer and closer to an orgasm. There is an imaginary coil inside of you, and it feels as though it is going to snap - the ever-growing pressure on the special spot inside of your cunt is constant, and his motions are consistent, specialized. “You’ll spare me?”
“I’ll do more than spare you. I’m going to fuck you like I love you and maybe I do, but then again, maybe I don’t.”
The crassness of his voice, the harshness of his words, and the overwhelming stimulant of his fingers fucking you so good is what sends you over the edge. The coil snaps - breaks in half, sending shockwaves of electricity pulsing through you, your legs shaking as Patrick continues to toy with your cunt, a bored expression on his face.
“My suit is drenched in your cum.” Patrick comments, slathering your wet against your thighs and stomach, crinkling his nose as he gently begins to undress himself. “Remind me to take this to the dry-cleaners, later.”
The conversation is so… nonchalant, so familiar. He talks to you like he’d talk to a lover - but are you his partner or just his plaything? Cold engulfs you and you shiver, but Patrick tuts, his cock hard and red as he nestles himself between your thighs.
“You’re cold.” He notes.
“I am.” You reply.
Patrick is odd - weird, a loser, but he consumes you. All you can think of day and night is Patrick, his slender fingers and skillful tongue, his angry and red cock which stuffs you perfectly and leaves you forever wanting. “What are you doing?”
Patrick’s fingers toy with the rope on your wrists. “Are they still too tight?”
“No. You fixed them earlier.” It makes your face flush when his cock presses against your slits, somehow perfectly aligned with your clit as he reaches further forward to loosen the restraints a tiny bit more. “Patrick-“
“I think you’re the only person I could ever love,” Patrick interrupts randomly with a mumble, repositioning himself and opening your thighs slightly wider. “If I tried. I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?”
Is he talking to you or himself? You don’t know anymore, letting him ramble on as he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. And it’s amazing - of course - it’s instant ecstasy because you were made for him, and he for you. You sheath him perfectly - and a broken moan bubbles up your throat as he snaps his hips slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in thought and his fingers digging into your thighs, his grip so tight it’s going to leave behind bruises.
“I will never hurt you.” Patrick tells himself - reassures himself, because you know it’s a lie as he’s hurting you right now. All he does is hurt you, leaves you insecure and violated, feeling guilty for the marks you’ve let him leave behind, feeling anguish as he leaves you for his skanky fiancé, night after night. “I will never hurt you. I can’t. I won’t. Do you hear me?”
Quiet gasps leave you as Patrick peppers gentle kisses against your chest. He groans into your skin as he fucks you, his balls heavy and sore as they smack into your ass. The rhythm he has is perfect - hard and slow, and the curve of his cock hits the special spot inside of you and it just feels so, so good. Everything feels amazing - feels perfect. You’re engulfed in him, the scent of his cologne and the nestling of his cock inside of you, and what have you done to deserve this?
“Do you hear me?” Patrick is slightly breathless, his eyes somewhat starry, and he looks down at you with something that could resemble adoration. And you gaze back, lovingly, because you love him, and you nod your head, but you don’t hear him - not really, because you’re too focused on feeling him.
And he feels good. It’s like you’re milking his cock - so tight and clenched down around him as the imaginary coil begins to wither away, your belly growing warm with each snap of his hips. “I want that, Patrick.”
“I won’t hurt you,” he tells himself as he tugs on the rope, leaving your skin burning in its wake. “I won’t.”
You can hear him. It’s a battle with himself. There is a thin line between pleasure and pain with Patrick, and he lets you walk that line. And he will continue to let you do so. Because you walk it prim and proper. You’re so focused on his words; "I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?" that you don’t care when he grips your face so hard it feels like your cheekbones are going to smash and your skull is going to turn into putty.
“Patrick," you gasp, incoherent as you feel his cum begin to fill you. "I want all of you.”
taglist: @makeyoumine69
half body comm for @lost-in-interwebs !! had fun with this :0) thanks for commissioning! <33
“Nice to meet you, Thomas” - Leatherface x Female! Reader
Author’s Note: I guess you could consider this some sort of Au for the Hewitts. Nevertheless, please enjoy the little fluff with Thomas. He deserves all the love!
〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣
It was a hot summer’s day in Puller, Travis County, Texas. The black cement that made up the road sizzled with intensity, almost like it was an illusion put on by a magician. The (L/N)’s took the time to admire the old farmland that sweeps across the hills of the abandoned town. The baby blue 1961 Chevrolet Impala that (F/N) (L/N) joyously owned sputters and spits as it tracks down the old roads.
An audible sigh escapes from (F/N)’s lips as the check coolant light blinks on, flickering expeditiously from the dash panel. Fortunately, a small convenient store comes into view through a mass of trees. It seems rundown, with a few bikes huddled in the front. Rusted machines and old tires collect around the outside of the building. The paint was chipping off and the A/C system looked old as can be.
Nevertheless, they turn into the driveway, parking on the other side of the gas pumps from the scraggly group smoking pot from their vehicles. “You girls go inside and get coolant for the car. I’ll stay out here,” (F/N) says, eyeing the batch as they pointed towards the little family with envious smiles.
“Come on sweetness,” (M/N) coaxes to her daughter, stepping out of the passenger side door. She was a thing of beauty, growing with grace as old age overtakes her. Her (M/E/C) eyes shimmer in radiance as the blazing sun catches sight of her. Petite hands brush past her short (M/H/C) locks, curling them behind her ear. (Y/N) wishes to grow old just like her.
The backseat door opens quickly after, and two youthful (S/T) legs jump out in modest Mary Jane shoes. (Y/N) (L/N) was the spitting image of her mother, though the soft delicate skin gave her away. The young girl follows along after her mother, mindlessly toying with the buttons of her overalls.
The door creaks as her mother enters. The strong smell of liquor and cigarettes instantly burn at (Y/N)’s nose, but she tries her best not to cringe as they walk up to the front counter where the shopkeeper sits. It was an old woman, with frizzled grey hair done up in a bun. Her blue gaze watches the two ladies with a dourly look. A release of smoke pours from her mouth as she takes another hit from her cancer stick. “What can I help you with?” She responds bluntly.
“Yes ma’am, we were wondering where your car coolant is,” (Y/N)’s mother replies kindly. “We just ran short.”
“Middle aisle, probably at the bottom…” the older woman replies.
“(Y/N), would you be a dear and go fetch that for me,” (M/N) asks with a grin.
The inside, the girl realizes, was dark and dreary. The shelves were crammed with items in no particular order or form. As she examines the contents of the third rack, she notices a couple sitting at a table near the bathroom. They both sported leather jackets and glowering stares. She quickly notes in her head not to even look in their direction.
“Did you get lost in there, sweetheart,” the older woman calls from the front counter.
“No ma’am…” (Y/N) responds politely. She finds the blue bottle stuck in between two funnels before rushing up to the front, where her mother was having chit-chat with the owner of the store.
“There you are!” (Y/N)’s mother says, gesturing for her daughter to come closer. “Apparently this is our neighbor! She lives a mile up the road from where we built our house!”
“Oh… Nice to meet you then, Miss…” (Y/N) questions softly.
“Luda Mae,” The older woman remarks. “You know, I have a son around your age. He’s on the shy side though…”
“You here that, (Y/N)? Perhaps you can make a friend after all,” (M/N) exclaims with excitement as she digs out a wad of money from her pants pocket. “We will definitely come visit sometime after we get settled! How much for the coolant?”
“If you wouldn’t mind coming for dinner Wednesday evening, it’s on the house. I would love for Thomas to meet (Y/N).”
“I see no problem in that at all. Until next time, miss Luda Mae!”
〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣
The tires skid across the gravel of their newly done driveway that travels to a lovely white plantation house. Big trees settle lowly around the property, providing shelter from the hazardous sun. (F/N) and (M/N) talk amongst themselves as (Y/N) daydreams in the back seat.
“Oh, look! Our strawberries are growing!” Her mother grins. She quickly picks up the paper grocery bag that was settled in between her legs and ventures over to marvel at the fruit saplings. “Do you see, my sweet!”
“They are beautiful, mother.” (Y/N) says with a gentle smile.
“Oh girls!” (R/N) bellows from the front porch steps. “I hate to ruin your sight- seeing, but aren’t we supposed to be going over to the Hewitt’s home tonight?”
“It’s Wednesday already?” (M/N) gasps, “Where did the time go… I guess we better get freshened up.”
Luda Mae was standing in front of her kitchen door as the (L/N) family pulls up. Her wrinkled face invited them with a friendly grin as she waves. All of them are ushered inside, where white porcelain cups and biscuit appetizers were set on the small dining table. It had a long dining cover with brightly colored flowers printed on them. An artificial bouquet is the center piece. Luda went busy at work making sure all of them are accustomed to, pouring tea into each of the glasses in front of them.
“Charlie- he’s the sheriff- will be a little late for supper. His patrol is going longer than he anticipated… though he would love to be here to meet you, I’m sure.” Luda explains with affliction. “But Tommy should be done some time soon, no worries miss (Y/N).”
She starts to attend to her crockpot on the stove, stirring the red soup with broad strides. (M/N) insists to help her cook, but Luda rejected the idea immediately. “Are you sure, miss Luda-”
“Please, just call me Luda Mae. No need to be so formal,” the older woman sighs. “And no, that’s alright dearie. What kind of host would I be if I made you cook? You just sit there; your company will be enough.”
Suddenly, the screen door slams shut. The deep breathing of a man stops the chattering of the room, and everyone stills. A man in an overused leather apron and a sweat-stained yellow striped shirt stands tall in the doorway, frozen like a deer who was spotted by a predator. His thick hair was caked in grease, his curls kinking into knots. The air stunk of meat.
“Tommy, welcome home!” Luda Mae welcomes him in with a kiss on the cheek. “These are the (L/N)’s; they are our guests. Now don’t be rude! You’ll be sitting by (Y/N) right there, she’s very nice.”
Thomas’s body slowly pulls out the chair, sitting in it as he was told. His whole body was tense, and (Y/N) could feel the heated shaking of his hands. He adjusts his mask, looking down at his lap.
“You have pretty hair,” (Y/N) says to him, surprising herself with the sudden complement. “I always wished my hair had coils like yours.”
Thomas’s salt blue eyes widen slightly as he makes eye contact with (Y/N). Never in his life has someone complimented his hair. He was not used to such nice comments to be thrown in his direction, especially not from a pretty girl he was just introduced to.
(Y/N) giggles a little at his reaction, but nonetheless finds the innocent behavior cute. “Good to meet you, Thomas. I’m sure we’ll become the best of friends.”
★Billy Loomis & Stu Macher headcanons★
𖦹Warnings: afab reader, mentions of panty stealing, nothing else really this is incredibly tame
⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡
Billy ⁀➷
୨୧―You honestly thought he hated you for a bit, whenever you'd hang out as a group he seemed to almost avoid you
୨୧― Little did you know he was just so infatuated with you that he didn't think he'd be able to compose himself if you guys did talk
୨୧― Absolutely asks Stu for tips on you because he has negative rizz
୨୧― Slowly warmed up to each other over time
୨୧― Gets jealous very easily and it almost feels suffocating
୨୧― If he notices guys staring at you he'd hold you a bit closer and harder while staring back at them
୨୧― Pretends not to like PDA but secretly loves it
୨୧― Would (quite literally) kill anyone that hurt you in any kind of way
୨୧― Is incredibly protective, follows you from afar anywhere you go, "just to make sure she's safe."
୨୧― Sneaks in through your window at night just to watch you sleep
୨୧― When you aren't there, he snoops around and takes a pair of panties if he's feeling extra brave
୨୧― Loves you too much to ever tell you he's ghostface
୨୧―But is also obsessed with the idea of corrupting you and making you his final girl
Stu ⁀➷
୨୧― Immediately warmed up to you as soon as you were introduced to the group
୨୧― Openly flirts with you in front of anyone and everyone
୨୧― You secretly love his morbid humor
୨୧― Passes you silly notes in class like, "Do you have a crush on me yes or no"
୨୧― His love language is absolutely physical touch and gift giving
୨୧― Genuinely cannot keep his hands off you no matter where you are
୨୧― (Not so playfully) Threatens people that even just give you a dirty glance
୨୧― Would kill anyone for you the second you said the word
୨୧― Talks about you to anyone he can the second he gets the chance to
୨୧― Loves letting people know you're his
୨୧― To the point it annoys Billy
୨୧― Talks to your stuffed animals when you aren't paying attention to him
୨୧― Loves just staring at you in adoration while you read or do homework
୨୧― Tries everything he can to convince Billy to let you in on the plan
★Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Bimbo!Reader headcanons★
𖦹Warnings: slightly suggestive if you squint
⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡
Billy ⁀➷
୨୧― You aren't really his usual type but when he met you he just couldn't get you of his mind
୨୧― Loves how different both of your aesthetics are and how they clash (but would never admit it)
୨୧― Gets slightly possessive whenever guys stare but also loves it
୨୧― He gets so touchy when someone's staring a little too hard
୨୧― (Somewhat) Playfully asks you to cover up a little more
୨୧― But also says things like, "Wear whatever you want, you know I can fight."
୨୧― Adores how clueless you are on so many things
୨୧― Loves the way he sticks out like a sore thumb in your room; completely covered in pink decorations and plushies
୨୧― Pays you random visits through your window just to see you in your skimpy night gowns
Stu ⁀➷
୨୧― Instantly fell in love with the way you carried yourself and didn't seem to care what others thought of the way you dressed
୨୧― Loves helping you pick out your outfits
୨୧― Buys you things he'd think you'll like whenever he's out
୨୧― Does not care how revealing you dress, if anything he encourages it and lives for it
୨୧― Begs you to let him pick out your next nail design
୨୧― Keeps an eye on you at gatherings and parties just to make sure no one gets handsy
୨୧― Loves gossiping with you, always comes up to you with something like, "You will not guess what I overheard in class today" in such a dramatic tone
୨୧― Defends you like his life depends on it whenever someone says something negative about the way you dress
So if I were to, say, work up the nut to start writing on Tumblr-
Would anyone be interested in material for Ethan Hawke's character from Black Phone? I'll probably take some level of requests for him. No specifics yet, just trying to see what interest would look like.
I'm absolutely obsessed with him and I've only seen two trailers for the film. Creepy man just might be a muse for me lol.
Thanks in advance!
Y'all, it's done. 👀
This is the first thing I've written in a long time and I feel so good about it.
I just need to edit and, barring anything unforseen, will post tomorrow. Fair warning in advance, it's a lil 🥵. So get ready to thirst for this big spooky man with me, hoes. And of course- MINORS DNI. It's not exactly explicit, but enough that I'm not comfy sharing my writing w/anyone not 18+. So please be respectful. 😊
Get ready to answer the call. But remember-
Don't talk to strangers.
"Tag, You're It"
The Grabber x Reader (18+ - non explicit)
TW- swearing, choking, mild hand kink, kidnapper vibes
A/N - It's here! I just want to start by thanking all of you for encouraging me to write again. The feedback was overwhelming and I'm so grateful and happy to put this out.
I wanna lay down a couple of ground rules before we get into the story. Yes, I know that The Grabber is probably gonna be ooc in this. But I just wanna get a feel for him (😏) before the movie comes out- and hopefully this will tide us all over until the 24th.
At this time I'm not accepting any criticism on my writing. This is practice for me to get back into writing again, and I'm comfortable where I'm at right now.
If anyone has any requests for The Grabber that aren't too specific (since I don't know his character 100% yet), I will accept them. No guarantees on timeliness since I work full time, but I promise to try my best!
Song: "Tag, You're It" - Melanie Martinez
https://youtu.be/RLYlMq6MU2s
And on to the story! Enjoy, and let me know if you'd like to see more!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Looking at me through your window
Boy, you had your eye out for a little
"I'll cut you up and make you dinner
You've reached the end, you are the winner"
Work had run over, again. And of all days to get out of work later than usual, it just had to be today.
You squinted your eyes until they hurt- a futile attempt to keep the burning heat of the setting sun out of your vision. For seven thirty in the evening, it sure was bright out. You knew this wouldn't last, though. Before you would arrive home, the sun would have long set, and the world around you would slowly be dipped into a coating of cool darkness. This realization made your heart rate and footsteps quicken in unison. You didn't want to be out after dark, but what option did you have when walking was your only way to get home on this muggy July evening? Your car was out of commission, and your ride had flaked again. Home was halfway across town, tucked in one of the many corners of an outlying city suburb- quiet and calm for the most part, but not altogether.
You didn't often watch the news, but when something happened in your back yard, you took notice. There had been rumblings, hushed whispers of a lone black van patrolling through various neighborhoods in the area. No one knew what to make of it exactly. Not a soul had seen the vehicle's driver, and not a soul knew what the entity behind the wheel wanted. This was enough to tie knots in the stomachs of already stressed single mothers, and local public schools had communicated that something was amiss. You couldn't help but wonder yourself what was going on. You had yet to see this mysterious locomotive or it's operator, and you couldn't deny your doubts about the story's legitimacy. A big scary man in a big scary van sounded like a stereotype used to scare children away from talking to strangers. What, did he have free candy too?
Rolling down your tinted window
Driving next to me real slow, he said
"Let me take you for a joyride
I've got some candy for you inside"
Your sneakers slapped quietly against the hot pavement. You had made it out of the city, but that was only about half of your journey. The cool evening air brushed against the back of your neck, sending a chill down your spine. You had been lost inside your own head for the majority of your walk home. Was that the safest idea? Probably not, but you would much rather fill your head with thoughts of the comforts of home than the anxiety your commute was bringing you this evening.
The low, smooth rumble of a large vehicle pulled you out of your thinking. You looked up to the road ahead, but didn't see any cars traveling down the street towards you. You swallowed the smallest lump in your throat, not daring to look behind you. A sinking feeling came over you. If the vehicle behind you was going past you down the road, it would've done so by now. This one was keeping pace with you.
You took a quick glance to your left and instantly felt time around you come to a screeching halt. Darkness itself had come upon you. The large, blacked out van came to a halt next to you the very second you noticed it. You hesitated, half curious half terrified. You had no control over your legs at this point- they felt heavy, like you were sinking into the very concrete beneath your feet. Taking a deep breath and letting it out shakily, you steeled yourself for what what to come. After what felt like an eternity, the tinted window of the vans passenger side rolled down. Piercing blue eyes, thinly veiled by large-frame sunglasses, immediately locked into contact with your own, sending a shockwave throughout your body. Though partially hidden by shadow, the man inside was clearly dangerous. He eyed you like a hungry wolf looking at it's next meal.
You both held each other's gaze for what felt like an eternity before the strange man in the van spoke. "Say bunny, you believe in magic?" His voice was low and gravely, and you didn't have to see his face fully to know he was grinning. You opened your mouth to speak, but it was as if your voice had been stolen, as not a sound would to leave your throat.
Running through the parking lot
He chased me and he wouldn't stop
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it
Grabbed my hand, pushed me down
Took the words right out my mouth
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it
Can anybody hear me I'm hidden under ground
Can anybody hear me am I talking to myself
Saying, "tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it"
He's saying, "tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it"
The man took your silence as enough an answer and rolled the darkened window back up before popping the driver's side door open and climbing out of the van. You mistook the sound of his footsteps against the pavement as that of your own heart hammering in your chest. The man didn't stop until he was mere inches away from you, finally granting you the ability to see his features fully. He made you feel much like a bunny- a nervous little rabbit with a fluttering little heart. You were his prey. His form towered over your own, making you feel smaller by the second. His features were distinguished- curly, reddish brown locks framed a strong, lightly stubbled jaw. Your gaze slowly crept upward. You drank in his features, taking in every little detail until you met his eyes again. His eyes were the most unsettling part of his face. They displayed the potential for so much feeling, yet they remained totally unreadable. You couldn't tell what he was thinking and that scared you most of all.
"Magic supplies, huh?" Your voice finally came back to you, although quiet, as you quickly glanced to the bright blue writing imprinted on the side of the imposing man's vehicle. "What's a magician doing out at this hour? Pretty sure all the birthday parties are done for the day." You quirked a brow upward slightly. Where your sudden boldness came from, you didn't know. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was Maybeline. Or maybe it was the fact that you'd had a long day and your capacity for fucks given had been maxed out. Regardless, the man found humor in your attitude change, and your voice seemed to mesmerize him. His toothy grin spread from ear to ear and a melodic chuckle escaped him. "I like your spunk, bunny. But I think you've got me all wrong. Im not exactly the party goin' type." He rolled his shoulders. "But you never answered my question." He stepped closer to you, now a hair's breadth away from you. It was almost a challenge, like he'd hoped you'd back away if he entered your space. You stood firm, and not just because you still felt like your knees would buckle if you tried to take even the smallest step. "Do you believe in magic?" He asked again. Any hint of playfulness left his tone and his voice dropped an octave. If you weren't in this situation, you'd almost find his voice sexy- but that was a train of thought for another time.
Little bit of poison in me
I can taste your skin in my teeth
"I love it when I hear you breathing
I hope to god you're never leaving"
"I guess I might." You replied as cooly as possible. "Why?" As soon as it had left, the raggedy male's smile returned. You could've sworn he was actually excited with your response. "I am oh so glad you asked, my little lamb." He clapped his hands together and motioned you toward the back of his van. "I've got a little magic trick for ya!" For the first time in your little encounter, he reached out and touched you. His calloused hand grasped your shoulder and guided you to turn around. His grip wasn't painful. It was firm, but oddly careful- like he didn't want to scre you off just yet. You shivered, moving amicably with his direction. You had no idea why you were still here. You should've run the moment you saw... him. But there was just something about him that had pulled you in. Like a beautiful, unfamiliar snake found in the woods- you don't know if it's poisonous yet, but it'll sure hurt like hell either way when it bites.
As if in slow motion, you moved around to the back of the magician's van. He lightly squeezed your shoulder, as if encouraging you to keep walking. Or perhaps it was a reminder of potential consequences if you didn't. When you reached your destination, the man removed his hand from your shoulder and reached out to open the large back doors of the vehicle. You inched backwards the slightest bit. It was almost as if yoou could feel the aura coming from inside the van. It was dark and almost... malevolent. Your stomach lurched with the sudden groan made by the doors as they were yanked open by the magician. Another step back, but this time... he noticed.
Running through the parking lot
He chased me and he wouldn't stop
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it
Grabbed my hand, pushed me down
Took the words right out my mouth
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it
Can anybody hear me I'm hidden under ground
Can anybody hear me am I talking to myself
Saying, "tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it"
He's saying, "tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it"
"Hey now. Where are ya goin, bunny?" You could hear the twinge of frustration in his voice as he looked back to you. His eyes were stern as they met with yours, but you could swear to god you almost saw the slightest glimmer of disappointment in his baby blue hues. Did he really just not want you to go? Conflict began to simmer in the pit of your gut. On one hand, your morbid curiosity was pulling you in more and more by the second. That and, something else... something that sent a heat creeping up from the pit of your stomach, fluttering into your chest, and rising up your throat to your cheeks that flushed with this new warmth. Fuck.
Were you stupid? Probably. Were you gonna die because you were stupid? Hopefully not. There was also something so intoxicatingly fascinating about the man. You knew you weren't supposed to feel this way about something so dangerous, but here you were- going against your better judgement and ignoring your knee jerk reaction to turn tail and run like the little "bunny" he kept referring to you as.
"Nowhere-" You replied in a breathy whisper. He was pulling the air from your lungs without even trying, and oh he knew it. "Good. Trust me, I'll make it worth you while." He stepped towards you and reached a hand out to you, forcing you to shut your eyes- half in anticipation, half bracing for impact. You were surprised by the gentleness he used as his large, calloused hand grasped your chin. He tilted your face upward, beckoning you to open your eyes and look at him once again. He looked ever so enticing as he gazed upon you. His body language oozed confidence and swagger. He knew he was in control. His thumb brushed your lower lip, ghosting over the lightly chapped flesh for a fleeting moment. "Say, what's that behind your ear?" His fingers danced across the skin of your cheek towards the shell of your ear. He deftly tucked your soft hair behind your ear before materializing a black rose before your very eyes. "Where were you hiding this?" He questioned with a deep, rumbling chuckle. You were almost baffled, almost. But then again, you were far too focused on his hand to pay any attention to, well, anything else.
Eenie meenie miny mo
Get your lady by her toes
If she screams, don't let her go
Eenie meenie miny mo
Your mother said to pick the very best girl
And I am
He noticed your hesitation and nudged the clearly artificial flower towards you, encouraging you to take it. "For my lovely assistant." He remarked with a wink. You took the rose with shaking hands. This clearly pleased the man, as he almost seemed to swell with some sort of twisted pride. "See bunny? I ain't so bad." He cocked his hip to the side and waved his hands outward defensively, showing you his empty... large palms. You half nodded, switching your gaze between him and the rose. "And that's not all-" He lunged forward. His fingers wrapped around your throat. He squeezed, digging into the delicate skin of your neck as he ripped the air out of your lungs. He lifted you off the ground like you weighed nothing at all. You choked and struggled to fight against him, but it made no difference. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear and his hot breath fanning over your neck. "Didn't anyone teach you not to talk to strangers?"
Running through the parking lot
He chased me and he wouldn't stop
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it
Grabbed my hand, pushed me down
Took the words right out my mouth
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it
Running through the parking lot
He chased me and he wouldn't stop
Tag, you're it, tag, you're it
Grabbed my hand, pushed me down
Took the words right out my mouth
Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it.
As soon as he grabbed you, he dropped you to the hot concrete below. You landed in a fit of gasps and coughs. The world seemed to spin and swirl around you in a frenzy of muted colors. The heated evening air burned your throat as your lungs drank it in. Once you gained your bearings again, you looked around and saw the magician was gone. He had disappeared like black smoke in the night, leaving you alone once again. You had no clue how you were still alive in the moment, but you decided not to question your fate. Thinking to any great depth hurt far too much. Your bloodshot eyes shot down to the black artificial rose that remained clutched in your grip. You slowly opened your palm to see a small tag attached to the plastic stem. You grasped it with trembling fingers and pulled it from your fuzzy periphery and into focus for further inspection. The tag was blank, aside from a sloppily written digits that, when put together, made a phone number. Your vision was fading. You grew increasingly dizzy by the second, but you fumbled in your pocket for your phone. Dialing the number, you brought the device to your ear with little hesitation, seemingly pushed onward by an unseen force. It rang once- you felt increasingly lightheaded. Twice- your vision began to fade. By the third ring, your back hit the pavement. As consciousness began to fade, you heard the distinct words that pushed you over the brink and plunged you into darkness.
"Tag, you're it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@lxdyred @always-morning-person @queenstilinskis
Thank you. Thank you so much. I seriously did not think my first fic on here would do this well. I haven't written in so long, and to be able to do so again makes me immeasurably happy. So thank you, to each and every single one of you. Your support means more than I can say, and I am truly grateful for you all.
I'm working on another fic now, and should hopefully have it posted in the next couple of days. And don't worry, it's gonna be fully spicy. I promise. 🥵😈
Going to see the movie again tonight for the 3rd time, and I'm taking my writing notebook with me. You know, for ideas. 😉
Thank you again! I love you all sm! 💜
Beware The Tiny Killer~
pov: you’re in a horror movie
1. create your own look here
2. find out what role you are here
I kind of love the result I got :)
no pressure tags: @foodiewithdahoodie @queereldritch @elhaspowers @gothbower @ohfallingdisco @josephandjamie @josephfakingquinn @johnsimms @cuethemulti @can-of-pringles @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @nebulousfishgills @mimisempai @thelostsisters @lokisgoodgirl @cultofsheep @onesmainbitch @jcbbby @whumpzone @catboysienna @lussiane333 @erdarielthewhumper @abitofboth @galactic-magick @llywenn @chaos-monkeyy @highwarlockofphilly (only if you feel like playing, no pressure or anything 🥰)
if I didn’t tag you and you’d love to join, please don’t hesitate to do so. I’d love to see the results you got. everybody is welcome!