currently looking to make a playlist with a particular feeling, but it's just any music that talks about dreaming over living life/waiting all day to sleep type. does this make sense? I'll include the few I have so far, but I just know I've heard more songs like that.
Where'd all the time go? - Dr.Dog
Privately Owned spiral galaxy - crywank
and I've kind of put tired - beabadoobee but idk how I feel about it matching
Gelphie Part 2/3 Inspired by the music video "Casual" By Chapel Roan
Defying heterosexuality 💚
A little study on lighting, so yeah, u can still see the sketches..this is not also meant to be sexual!! It's more on doomed yuri whatever💔 its more worse💔 (Im also a minor, so no, I'm not going to draw suggestive art (YET)
Pairing: Stu Macher x gf!Reader
Word Count: 6.6k words
Warnings: NSFW, smut, knife play, blood kink, mentions of killing, cutting, switch!Reader, switch!Stu, marking, scratching, oral (f!receiving), they're constantly trying to kill each other, established relationship, kinktober...
A/N: Hello, everyone! Here I am posting for Stu Macher again for a holiday. I can't help it, he's an idiot. But I won't say he's the only Ghostface you should be looking forward to this month. Stay tuned. Enjoy and Happy Halloween!
You definitely should have reacted differently.
Stu always knew you were a little fucked up. He could just tell—in your jokes, your words, the way you smiled. Maybe it was a little harder for people to see sometimes, but it was easy for him. You're not right.
Of course, he doesn't mind. He's also a little fucked up (which is a vast understatement, but it's funnier that way).
But you definitely should have reacted differently.
He hadn't heard you coming up the steps. He hadn't heard you open the door. All he knew was that you climbed up the side of his house and into his bedroom through his window, like a fucking psychopath. (He taught you that.)
He hadn't even changed yet. His mask is sitting on the bed, covered in blood. He sits at the edge with a hand over his arm where he'd been nicked by the last screamer he slashed. The red is bright against the white of his skin. It's hard to miss.
Stu hesitates as he stares at you staring at him, your eyes wide but full of an emotion he can't place. He's quick to swipe his blade from the bed, gripping it tight as he stands.
“Wait!”
You hold your hands out, bracing for the pain but finding none. That was so quick. It's almost like he didn't even have to think about it.
Stu doesn't want to kill you. He thinks you're hot shit, and he thinks you're so beautiful, and he wants to eat you whole.
You don't want Stu to kill you. You think he's funny and weird and you want to eat him whole.
You look at him, your hands shaking as you keep them held out. You swallow thickly. Your mouth is suddenly dry. He stares at you, and it almost seems like he's begging you to give him a reason not to kill you.
“You're… You're the killer? You're Ghostface.”
Your voice is small, but the underlying fear is too underlied. Something is off.
He doesn't answer you. Instead, he watches the way your eyes look him up and down, dragging your gaze down from the knife to his face to the black robes adorning him.
He could kill you right now.
When you begin to move, he expects you to shrink out of the window and try to run away. But you don't. You climb the rest of the way through and close it quietly behind you, like you're afraid his parents (who aren't even home) will hear.
You clear your throat quietly, staring still. “You…killed all those people? Our friends?”
It's still for a moment. You almost don't react when he approaches you quickly. He shoves you into the wall, boxing you in with one hand pressed to the wall. You hit your head, closing your eyes and groaning lightly. When you open them again, he's inches away from your face with the sharp point of his knife barely touching the underside of your jaw.
He seems conflicted for a long moment before he speaks, his voice a little wobbly but otherwise the same chipper tone he's used to having.
“Killing you isn’t part of the plan,” he says, not quite confident enough to crack a grin. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”
You hold your breath, staring at the craze in his eyes and finding it hard to look away. His pupils are blown so wide that the light blue of his eyes appears almost like sapphire. You’re shaking, even as you reach a hand out and place it at his cheek.
His gaze doesn’t falter as the warmth of your palm brushes the cold of his face, though a light sigh passes through his lips.
You keep looking into his eyes. They’re wide with adrenaline, dark with his intent. When he presses the knife a little closer, you tilt your chin up higher and let out a shuddering breath. You know he’s pierced the skin. You can feel the slightest slip of blood pooling from the spot. “Tell me why I shouldn’t,” he says again, his voice a little weaker this time.
“Stu.” Your voice is almost a whisper. He’s confused. You’re not having the right reaction. You’ve got your hand on his cheek, your eyes are dry, and although you tremble, it’s not the pleading tremble he’s used to seeing in his victims. You look…calm.
You raise a hand to the knife, which has become unsteady with his own slight shake. You wrap your fingers gently around his wrist and guide his hand away. He lets you. His hand swings at his side
You drop your hand down to his waist, and he just watches you, thoroughly confused and slowly losing his distress in the way you touch him. Your hand on his cheek shifts and wraps around the back of his neck. His eyes dart between your own, searching for your intent because he is genuinely so confused about the way you’re behaving.
You should be begging for your life, spewing incoherent ramblings about all the reasons he should spare you. Of course, none of them would work. You’ve seen him now. You know it’s him. If he lets you go, you could go run and tell the cops. You could ruin everything. Even if he does let you go, and you don’t say anything, Billy would be pissed. He would handle it himself.
Stu doesn’t want to let anybody else kill you. If you are going to die, he’s going to be the one to hold the knife.
He shakes his head, gripping his knife in hs fist as his nerves begin to fray. You keep staring at him, flicking your eyes from one side to the other. You look like you’re anticipating something. “What are you–?”
He can’t finish his sentence before you’re cutting him off with your lips on his. It’s an aggressive kiss. Your teeth clash, and you’re pretty sure you’ve cut his lip by the taste of blood on your tongue. You lick his lip, tasting the metal and sighing into his mouth. It’s hot and messy. Your mouths keep slipping off one another.
Stu has never been strong against stuff like this. When you’re kissing him like you’re trying to consume him, it gets cloudy in his head and he loses focus. The knife in his grip clatters to the floor, and he presses his body flush against yours, pushing you into the wall as he groans into your mouth.
You pull him down more, attacking his mouth with an intensity that should have been fear, not passion. One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly and pulling a moan from your lips.
You don't know what's wrong with you, but you know there's something wrong. You know the curling in your stomach is a feeling that is likely better left ignored, but you're already here.
Stu tastes like hard candy, the kind that will crack your teeth if you bite too hard (and you've been known to bite). His edge is like lava, and his kisses always cut like a knife. You're certain it's the reason you've wanted him for so long, the reason you were drawn in the first place. It was set in stone when he first kissed you, when he first fucked you.
The boys you've been with were warm bodies sticky with sweetness or bitter with their crass. You sucked on them too hard, and they lost their flavor in moments, dissolved by the acidity of your spit-slicked tongue.
Stu leaves you cuts and bruises, scorch marks and scars on the private parts that no one sees. You've always known you liked them, you just never realized why.
Maybe you're sick. You need to be taken and locked away so you can't hurt anybody, or lose yourself in twisted arousal when someone else gets hurt. You don't know. Whatever the case…Stu likes it, and it's nice to be liked.
You bite down hard on his lip, breaking the skin as he pulls away with it still stuck between your teeth. He laughs, raising his free hand to wag his finger at you. “You're fuckin’ sick.”
You smile, licking his blood from your lips. “So are you.”
You close the distance again, letting rough hands slide from his head to his neck to his chest as you begin to push him back with heavy steps.
You shove him onto the bed. He falls back without a protest, smirking devilishly at you. You stand there, watching him with a rising and falling chest as you bend down to pick the knife up from the floor.
Stu’s grin falls slightly, and he watches you like a hawk as you slowly walk toward him. You stand in front of him, looking down at the knife as it glints in the soft light of his bedside lamp.
“There's something wrong with me,” you say, running the blunt side of the blade over the pad of your thumb before twirling the end carefully at the point. It breaks skin, and a bead of blood pools at your thumb.
When you finally look back up at him, he's grinning. “I coulda told you that.”
You point the knife at him. Some of his amusement dies down, but not because he's threatened. If you try to kill him, he will kill you. He doesn't want to kill you.
“You killed our friends,” you accuse.
“Technically, I killed some of our friends,” he shrugs. “Billy killed the rest.”
You tilt your head. “You slashed them.”
“Like pigs.”
He has no shame. No remorse. You clench your tension slicked thighs.
“No,” you shake your head. “Pigs are slaughtered. Slaughter is systematic, it's unfeeling.” You walk closer, pressing your knee into the foot of the bed and leaning forward until you're looming over him with the knife pointed at his throat, just as he'd had you moments before. “You're not unfeeling. Whatever you did was sadistic. You enjoyed every bit of it.”
His eyes keep going between your own and your lips, parted and swollen with his biting hunger. “Guilty as charged.”
You shake your head. It's a little scary, the desire in you telling you to fuck him. It's the same desire telling you to maim him, to slit his throat or drive the knife through his heart.
You don't want to kill Stu. But there would be satisfaction in doing so.
You brush the tip of the knife along the underside of his jaw. “Then tell me why I’m so wet.”
He knew he loved you. You capture his lips again, careful not to nick him as you do. His hands grip your waist, keeping you where you are.
Your lips stray from his mouth in favor of sliding down his neck, biting and sucking on his throat as he leans his head back and grunts. “So do you normally wear dresses while I'm not looking?”
His hands rub up and down your side, slipping underneath the waist of your jeans. “Not a dress,” he says. A smile curls his lips, “And you like it.”
His long middle finger strokes the seam of your cunt, smearing the arousal that's gathered there over his finger, over your folds. You hum lightly, “Maybe I do.”
You wrap a hand around his neck, forcing his chin up to bare his full throat to you. He grunts as you sink your teeth into it, letting your nails dig into his skin as you go. You chuckle in his ear. “But you're not much better.”
He laughs, cut off by your mouth attacking his again. “Why don't you take it off me, if you hate it so much?” he suggests, biting your bottom lip.
“Never said I hated it,” you shrug. “In fact…I don't think I will take it off.”
His hands squeeze your hips, tilting his head as he looks up at you. “Well, what if I make you?”
You slide the edge of the knife down his cheek. His eyes are hooded, darkened partially with lust and partially with sadism. He doesn't want to kill you, but he would love to hurt you. Just enough to see how you bleed.
“You won't be making me do anything tonight.”
He raises an amused brow. “And why is that, sweetheart?”
“You said to give you a reason not to kill me. I'm giving you one.” You smile, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you chuckle. “But that means I’m in charge tonight.”
He leans forward. You pull back. He's so close, you could kiss right now. But you don't want to give him the satisfaction.
“What if I don't like that?”
You lean in. Just as he goes to meet you, you pull back again. This makes him laugh, because you seem to already think you're in charge. He goes to kiss you again, but you don't let him.
You smile. “What if I don't care?”
“I could kill you right now.” His hands tighten on your waist as if to emphasize his point.
“And I have a knife to your throat,” you state plainly. “It's mutually assured destruction.”
Stu doesn't think so. He knows there's something wrong with you—it's evident in the way you kiss him with his blood on your lips, a knife at his throat, his mask covered in blood right next to your heads. But he's not fully convinced that you'd be strong enough to kill him.
You would hesitate. Stu wouldn't have that problem.
“If you say so.”
You shush him, letting your lips brush as you do. “Reason number one,” you whisper. “I taste good.” You close the distance, latching onto his mouth as you slide one hand beneath his head. He bites you and grunts into your kiss. Your nails dig into his scalp and his hands slide under your shirt to dig into your waist.
You love the way he kisses you. He doesn’t care about gentleness, he doesn’t care about being sweet. He kisses you like his full intention is to break you. He wants to cut your slips and crack your teeth down to the nerve. He wants to split your tongue in two and suck on it.
You pull away with your hand around his throat. He laughs drunkenly. “I’d like to taste something else.” He licks his lips as if to demonstrate.
A light chuckle bubbles in your chest. “Well, I’m not gonna leave you hanging.” You shrug a shoulder, pulling on an innocent expression as you shift off of him. “Especially not with my life on the line.”
Stu moves to sit up, but you pull the knife on him quicker than he anticipates. He stops, slowly leaning back down as you guide him away with the tip of his blade. “No,” you tut gently. “You stay right there.”
Stu watches you lean back, moving off his body to stand on your feet. As you bring your hands to the hem of your shirt, he smiles and watches you lift it over your head just to toss it to the ground. And he's definitely happy to watch you dig your thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and push them down your legs. Your bra doesn't match your underwear. It's pink and blue, and it looks good on you either way.
You place your hand on his chest to balance, pushing your panties down to the floor before straddling his hips again. The fabric of his robes are soft against your skin, and his hands on your thighs are burning hot. You bend down to kiss him once, moving up the length of his body until your spread legs are hovering over his head.
“Be a good boy?” you tilt your head, bracing your hands on the headboard of his bed. Stu scoffs like the notion is ridiculous, but when you lower yourself on him, his mouth attacks your cunt with a vicious hunger.
He’s in no way gentle or soft. He has no care for it. His hands clasp around your thighs so tightly that you think you may lose blood flow. His mouth sucks and his tongue laps at your folds, which are soaked with your immoral arousal. You’re glad no one is home. It just means you don’t have to be quiet as you let your head fall back and ride his face.
When one hand reaches up to squeeze your breasts, you sigh as you pull your shirt over your head. You thrust up and down the length of his mouth, enjoying every slide and suck and smack as his tongue circles your clit. You curse, the undeniable pleasure of his mouth an undeniable thing. As you let your head shift to the side and see the bloodied mask, the face of a ghost that almost seems as though it weeps with tears of joy at the indiscretions it commits.
When Stu sucks hard on your clit, you brace your teeth into the flesh of your arm, biting down hard as you allow a muffled moan to make its way up your throat.
This is wrong. You shouldn’t be letting him do this. He’s a murderer. He’s killed people—people you knew, people you were close with—and he’s done it with no remorse. You should be running and screaming, begging on your knees for him to spare your life. But instead, you ride his face under the pretense of self-preservation.
And, on some level, it is. He needs you to prove to him why he should spare you (though you’re sure he’s convinced by now that you won’t tell anybody).
You grip a fistful of his hair in your fist, rolling your hips over his face as your pleasure begins to rise in your belly. Your legs begin to tremble so slightly as his tongue flicks and sucks on your clit, coaxing it from you with a cruel sort of need.
Your hips jerk when his teeth lightly scrape your folds, startling more than hurting you. “Stu,” you sigh heavily. “Right there. Almost there.”
You feel him try to pull away, make you suffer for his amusement. But you don't let him. You lock your hands around his head and roll your hips over his mouth, a strenuous back and forth that brings you closer and closer until you're shaking.
You curse in the middle of your gasp. It's this backwards sound that outlines your lust, craven and enthused with no regard to any moral or some kind of calamity. Your orgasm rises in your belly and scours the rest of your body. You yank his hair and listen to him moan.
Once the high runs down, you lift up from his face to pull him off of you, shifting back to straddle his waist as you slouch over his body with unsteady breath. “You like me on top,” you comment, smirking slyly at him as he laves his tongue over his pink lips.
You press your hands to his chest, bending down to kiss him and sink your teeth into his bottom lip in the process. He winces, returning the favor with his own biting Jaws.
You gasp into his mouth when he wraps an arm around you and flips you onto your back. You're disoriented as you catch your bearings, looking back at him to see the knife held at your throat.
You stare at him, your eyes wide with shock. Bring your leg up his side, you lean in slowly. His lip quirks, following your movements with a tightened grip on his blade.
The pain shoots up his arm when you sink your teeth into the meat of his palm, just as your lips had begun to brush. The knife slips from his hand, and you wrap your legs around him to toss him off of you. He falls to the ground with a thump. You snatch the blade, moving to join him as you straddle his waist again.
But Stu is already anticipating this. You're smaller than him, so the only real advantage you have is to be on top. He rolls you both a second time until he's caging you in underneath him, snatching the knife and holding at your throat once more as his other hand pins your wrists above your head.
You're entirely vulnerable and completely naked. He's got the upper hand.
Stu watches you, the knife braced against your skin as he teases you with the freezing metal. You stare at him with wide eyes, and he has trouble deciding what he sees in them. You're like a deer in headlights, not afraid of the danger hurling towards you, but so mesmerized that you cannot find it in you to save yourself.
Stu bends down to capture your lips in his teeth, joining you in a biting kiss as he keeps the knife steady at your chest. You arch your back and hiss when the blade cuts into your skin, reveling the dizzying feeling in your brain.
Stu pulls back to see you, looking down at where a trickle of blood is staining your skin. You look up at him, your eyes unfocused as he examines your cut. It's shallow, but he's sure it'll scar.
He looks at your face, and your eyes are hooded with what he thinks is lust. And he thinks you're crazy for it.
His opinion worsens as you arch your back into his knife again and wince loudly when you're cut again. The blood falls a little easier down the side of your chest, two crossed lines forming an X between your breasts that he admires.
He's got a wicked smile on his face as he watches your chest heave with the feeling of the sting in your skin. When his mouth closes around your nipple, you writhe like crazy as he sucks.
“Stu,” you breathe, fighting against his hand, but not enough to actually escape. You probably could if you tried hard enough.
Stu rolls you onto your stomach, pulling you up onto your knees as he forces your head down against the floor. The sting of your cuts hurt, but it continues to haze your mind with a strange mixture of your lust.
“You're fuckin’ messed up, you know that?” he questions, laughing giddily as he does.
You laugh meekly, keeping your position even after he's let you go. “I need you, Stu,” you breathe, running a hand through your wet folds as you do.
“Good. Because I got another reason for you.” You hear a ton of rustling, and then a zipper. Stu lines himself up with the seam of your pussy, moaning when he's buried to the hilt inside of you. You purse your lips and let your voice muffle in your arm. “You feel amazing.”
Stu’s long, he sits deep inside of you. A startled moan comes out of you when he pulls all the way back and drives himself back in so hard that it hurts. You bury your face in your arm and whimper in your skin as he fucks into you with no regard to your pleasure.
And it hurts, but God does it feel so good. You want to tell him to slow down, to go easy on you, but you want him to hurt you. You want to quietly exclaim “Ow!” into your arm when he drives in just a little too deep. You want him to mangle you, and you want to be able to blame your pain on him.
And he's happy to let you.
Stu fucks you from behind. He does it roughly, and he does it regardlessly. You grasp uselessly for the floor to hold onto something.
Each thrust is met with a strangled moan, and when Stu’s hands press against your back, you seethe as he runs his dull nails into the skin. It’s all very disarming, the pleasure, the pain, the bite of his nails and the sting of the cuts in your chest. You let it swirl in your head and render you useless.
“I thought you were in charge, huh? You were gonna tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” He punches hard inside of you, and for a second, you can’t breathe. “But you’re taking it like a little bitch.”
You get your bearings then, bouncing forward just when he’s pulling back. He slips out of you, and a little hiss falls off his tongue. Stu reaches for your hips to put himself back inside, but you’re already on your side. You throw a leg out and jab your foot into his side.
Stu groans loudly at the pain, clasping his hand at his side where you kicked him. A flare of anger rises within him, and he uses it to grab your leg. You use your free leg to push him back by his chest, and he falls back against the floor with a grunt.
You climb on top of him once more, grabbing the knife just as you had done before and bracing it at his stomach instead. “If you move, I’ll gut you,” you threaten just as he’s realizing where you’ve got him. He smiles like you’d just told him the sweetest thing.
Stu lays back. You watch his muscles relax as he sighs. “Whatcha gonna do, huh?” he hums. “Are you gonna hurt me now?” The way he beams at you is nothing but insanity. You slip your hands beneath his robe, which he had pulled up to his waist while he was fucking you. You pull it over his head and make his shirt go with it until he’s half naked beneath you.
You look down at him, your breath steady. He tries to see what you’re thinking, but your face is unreadable. With a gentle smile, you tighten your grip on the knife before pulling it away from his belly. You tease his chest just as he had done to you, and your grip is surprisingly steady.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” you smile. “Not too much, at least.”
He tilts his head, only for it to shoot back with grinding teeth as you dig the long end of the blade into the skin below his pec. You watch a line of blood trickle down from the wound, keeping your hand as steady as you can as you begin to carve your initials into his flesh.
You go slow, drawing out every little knick just to see him struggle not to squirm underneath you and ruin your work. You’re already cutting him. Who’s to say you won’t kill him?
You like the way the blade glistens in the lamp light. It’s just a small little gleam, but it makes you feel something. As you look up at Stu, his jaw clenched and his eyes shut. He doesn’t look too much like he’s suffering, but he definitely isn’t comfortable. The blade clatters to the floor by his head.
You pull back to admire your handiwork, wiping uncaringly at the wound with his robe as the blood continues to pool. “Reason number three,” you smile, brushing your thumb over the cuts and admiring the way his stomach tenses. It looks so nice, a mark he’ll bear forever. A tingling feeling nests in your gut, eats away at your fingertips and the very tips of your ears. You lean down to brush your lips against his, your voice a smooth whisper against his mouth as he watches you with hooded eyes. “You’re mine now.”
“Am I?” he asks, his lip twitching with his smirk. You reach up onto the bed, never breaking eye contact as you blindly reach for the mask on his bed. You swipe it up, pulling it over his head as he huffs. The black pits of his Ghostface eyes bore into you. You bend down and kiss the open void of his mouth. If you’d been actually kissing him, he may not have realized you pulling his pants down the rest of the way.
“All mine.” You raise yourself up over his lap, reaching down to line his cock with your pussy as you stare at him. “And I’m gonna show you.”
You sink down on him. You moan at the feeling. It sits in your throat as you slowly guide your hips forward and back, feeling the length of his cock pressing all the way inside. You relish in the feeling for just a moment, but you don’t waste time on it. You brace your hands on his chest, pressing down hard so you can hear his breath strain in his lungs as you begin to ride him.
You ride him fast and hard, with deep strokes and clenching fists. His hands grasp at your waist with a tightness that hurts, and you throw your head back as you continue to ride him with all that you’ve got. Your tits bounce as you do, an up and down motion that his gaze is glued to. You can feel it even through the mask keeping you from watching the way his eyes shut and his mouth hangs open.
“You like when I ride you, Stu,” you breathe, bouncing your ass up and down as you slam yourself on his cock. “You like when I’m on top, fucking myself on you, holding you down and using you how I want.” Your smile is toxic as you chuckle. “You can’t admit how much you like me in charge.”
His voice is muffled through the mask, but you hear every word he says with a clarity that rattles your bones. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you cry.”
You roll your hips in just the right angle to hear him moan. When you laugh, your walls tighten around him, and he hisses. “Promise?” you whisper, straightening your back and burying your hands in your hair. When you bounce, your own eyes flutter shut and your mouth drops down to moan freely. “Fuck, Stu, you always reach so—mmh!—so deep.”
You hear him pick up the knife, but you do nothing to stop him. You wince and whine when he braces it at your stomach, letting little paper cuts clip your skin as the shallow cuts send pleasure rushing up your spine. “You gonna mark me now? Like I marked you?” You smile, your head reeling with everything rushing to it. “Then you really can’t kill me, ‘cause everyone will know who did it.”
The knife trails down to your thigh, and you open your eyes to watch him. The look on your face is sultry. You remind him of a demon, and he wants to taste you. You hold him by his shoulders as you continue to bounce on him. The new angle makes him whimper.
“Just like that?” you mutter. “You want more?” You grind your hips, and he’s a goner as his grip loosens once more. You set your hands on his chest and dig your nails into his skin, scraping your nails down the flesh as angry red lines follow in their wake. You wish you could see the way the muscles in his neck flex, but you settle for his arms straining in his skin, his hands grabbing you so hard, you think you’ll lose circulation.
It’s all a lot to take in. Your clit is aching with need, and it’s becoming harder to taunt him with the tightness of your own need. You slip your hand between your thighs and toy with your clit, a deep sigh escaping you just as you do.
Stu hasn’t done much but moan and wince. He usually talks so much that sometimes you have to tell him to shut up, but when he’s on the bottom and you’re staring down at him without those fucked up eyes, he can’t find words to drown you in.
Your shallow breaths are loud, pitchy when you roll your hips just right. You stare at the bleeding cuts under his pec, and that gratifying feeling you’d gotten when you made it fills you again.
“Did it feel good?” You’re not as taunting anymore. There’s a lilt to your voice that makes Stu want to pin you down and cut you open. He tilts his head, and you think for a moment that you’ll cum right then. It shouldn’t be as arousing as it is—his mask is, by no means, terrifying. It’s comical, to say the least.
But, oh, does he look good covered in blood…
“Killing them?” you clarify, losing your gravitas as you brace yourself on his chest and swivel your hips at a spot that makes your brain numb. Stifled moans come out as whimpers as you work that deep, spongey stop inside of you that makes you want to explode. “Did it feel good?”
Stu’s hand reaches up and grabs the back of your neck, pulling down as the other braces at the very top of your thigh to help you move. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear his unsteady breaths hurling toward the barrier blocking you. You think you’ll cum soon.
But it doesn’t happen. Stu turns you again, pushing you underneath him once more. He hikes your legs up his waist and gathers your wrists in his hand as his other keeps your hips steady. You’re in the middle of licking your lip when he thrusts into you so deep that you cry out.
“How good do you feel right now?” he asks, his voice husky and low with lust. “You like when I thrust into you so deep, your eyes roll?” You nod, your sounds utterly useless otherwise. “You like when I fuck you so hard, it hurts a little and you need me to stop?”
You nod again, feeling just that right as he says it. You embrace the pain. It makes your head dizzy and your legs spasm. “Yes, Stu,” you whimper.
“You like when I pin you down and fuck you like I want?” His voice is frayed at the ends, spent with excitement. “You like dripping for me? And then watching me drip out of you when I cum inside of this pretty little pussy?”
You nod once more, your fingers toying away at your clit and stopping just before you tip off the edge. “Please, Stu.”
He bends down so his mouth is at your ear, the black fabric of his mask caressing your skin. He never stops moving as his body moves with yours. “Killing is like fucking,” he rasps. “It’s raw and it’s hot. Your heart races, your body gets all tingly. The fuckin’ power is enough to drive you crazy.”
You want to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close, but every time you move them, his grasp tightens around your wrists. “When I stab someone, it feels like I’m shoving my dick inside of you. When I choke someone out, I feel like my hands around your throat. When I gutted Casey from side to side and hung her from that tree while her guts spilled out, it felt like I was gutting you. And fuck, did that feel good, baby.”
You’re inconsolable, your breaths shaky and your muscles tensing with every quiver of a faltering release. “D’you wanna kill me, Stu?”
It takes him a moment to respond, caught up in the way your cunt hugs him so tight when the sound of your hips meeting fills the air with wet slaps. “Honest?” You nod. “I don’t know.” Your moan shudders out of you with an “oh” sound, ending with an F that drives out until it’s no longer forming a word. “Killing you would feel fuckin’ amazing…but I can fuck you again and again and again and get the same high. I can only kill you once.”
You smile, and it’s the sickest thing he’s ever seen. He gets drunk off the sight. “Then I guess you’ll have to keep me, huh?”
He doesn’t answer. He laughs, and then he keeps fucking you like he plans for it to be the last time he ever will. He keeps fucking you like he will kill you after. The thought of it should not make you shudder, but you do and you grip him tighter as you beg for a release.
He’s getting close, you can hear it in the way he moans. Beneath the mask, you know his brows are creasing together with that little curve. It makes him look like he’ll cry. You love when he makes that face.
Your release catches you by surprise. You meant to wane off again, but the pleasure was too great. Your back arches and you clench down on him tightly as you let the waves of relief crash down around you violently. It’s like you’re being dunked under water again and again, unable to catch your breath as the water floods your lungs and makes you cough so much, there’s no way you’ll be able to breathe again.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps, and you tremble as the pleasure makes its way through your body. You cry his name, even beg him to do things to you that you probably shouldn’t while he’s so susceptible to killing you.
His thrusts are unsteady now, especially when you suck him in like you’re trying to milk him. Your mind is frayed with the pleasure lingering in every crevice, and you sink into the rhythm of his thrusts with all the excitement of a first orgasm.
“Gonna fuckin’–!” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The way you clench around him is sinister, and his whole body is shaking with his release when he spills inside of you. You grunts and whimpers fall freely as he fucks you to his own need, just as he had been before.
His last thrusts are done in quick succession, deep and spurred by dull aftershocks. His breath is so heavy, you can only assume it’s hot and humid underneath that mask. Stu’s muscles twitch as he lets go of your wrists to attack your sides with gripping hands. He lets out a loud huff as he reaches for his mask, pulling it over his head.
He hadn’t seen you pick up the knife again. He’s met with it at his throat, the tip of it grazing his earlobe as you threaten his jugular. You’re smiling the prettiest smile, and Stu thinks he’s a goner. He’d let you spill his blood in a crimson shower all over your face if it meant seeing you smile like that would be the last thing he saw. He doesn’t realize just how much he loves you sometimes. Not until he’s willing to die for you just as much as he’s willing to kill you.
He smiles, and you know that he’s perfect. You’re so happy that you’re just as fucked up as him, your fingers itching to go the extra step and just…sink in.
“Reason number four,” you whisper in the space between you, “I won’t hesitate.” Keeping the blade steady, you wrap your legs around his waist and make him sit up. You lower your voice to the softest thing he’s ever heard. “Killing you would bring me just as much as joy as fucking you.”
You understand him. It feels so nice for someone to understand him. How sad it would be if you were normal…or if he was the one who was normal. What a shame it would be.
“God, I love you.” He smiles, and then he laughs in the way that compels him to stick his tongue out to his chin.
Your nose scrunches with your grin, it worsens when you feel the warmth of his blood sticking to your chest because of how close you are now. “Good,” you say. “Because you belong to me now, Mr. Ghostface.”
He laughs again. “My crazy woman.” He pulls you into a kiss, and finds himself happy that he’s deciding not to kill you. For now, at least.
Stu Macher taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess @queermaxwooo @mamaemoemu @snailss @bubbledtee @anotherblackreader @motopoppp @a-person-in-many-fandoms @laniirackssss @stealthyadversary @electraphyng
Tag yourself here...
"I dare you to kiss my Tatum" (Stu x Tatum x Reader) 18+ content
Warnings: 3 some (FFM,) reader is afab (she/her,) making out, blow job, eating out, smoking (weed,) first person pov, pørn link at the bottom, unedited
Word count: 1k (It's a shorty but a saucy one 😭)
Note: Based on poll results.
-
"You can stay over with us! Stu's parents will be gone the whole week so he has the house to himself." Tatum said and I smiled at her, nodding and agreeing to her offer.
"Thanks Tate, I don't wanna be a bother but I just can't be home alone tonight." -- "You're always welcome here! I love having company!" Stu said from behind us, startling with his sudden appearance.
With the ghost face killings it wasn't easy to be alone at my house, and tonight after movie night with our friend group I told Tate everything about how scared I'd been feeling, so I quickly accepted her offer to join her and Stu's "slumber party."
•
A few hours went by and we ended up in Stu's room to smoke weed and gossip with Tate. Apparently Stu loved to know about all the tea going on at campus so he was surprisingly attentive.
"And I heard she made out with a girl in the locker room!" -- "That's hot- Ow!" Tatum immediately smacked Stu's arm. "Don't be an asshole!"
I laughed at their interaction. "I mean, I don't blame the girl, Sam is pretty cute so." I replied and Tate gave me an amused look. "You've kissed a girl before too?" she asked me, amusement written all over her face. "Yeah, a few times. I'm bisexual so it's bound to happen." I said and laughed at my own words, the weed starting to make me act goofy.
"Would you kiss a girl?" I asked Tatum, bold as ever. I've been attracted to both her and Stu for a while so I didn't really care at that point, given the substance I was under.
"That would be hot as fuck." Stu replied to my question.
"Oh yeah, I bet you'd love to see that. Anyways, I think I would, just to try it out." Tatum replied, rolling her eyes at Stu first then smiling at me before responding.
"How about you Stu? Would you kiss a boy? Hm?" I asked him next, teasing him and expecting a rejecting response. "Honesty? I'd be down to kiss Billy. Y'know, since we have trust."
Me and Tatum gasped at his admission. " Oh my gosh! You're insane for admitting that!" -- "It's the weed, I can't lie okay!?" The boy said and we all laughed hysterically.
"I'd kiss Billy too" I admitted and Stu faked being shocked. He knew I had a thing for Billy so he wasn't shocked at what I said.
"Would you kiss my Tatum over here?" Stu asked me while pulling his girlfriend to sit on his lap. The girl looked at me, curiosity written all over her face.
I smirked at both of them before biting my bottom lip. "I would." I admitted and the vibes got tense quickly. I saw Stu's pupils dilating and Tatum shifting in his lap.
"I dare you to do it." Stu said from behind his girlfriend, smirking at me.
I looked at Tatum, searching for any signs of discomfort but she was smirking at me too. Slowly, she crawled towards me, giving her boyfriend a perfect view of her ass before kneeling in front of me, since we were sitting on the floor. I did the same and we slowly leaned in until our lips met.
The kiss was soft at first but it got heated quickly. Our high pitched moans and audible kissing noises were driving Stu crazy. I started to play with Tatum's tits, squeezing and pinching her nipples. She held my waist and pulled me towards her, our tits squishing against each other. Our tongues touched and we softly moved them in unison. Stu was rock hard at the sight of his girlfriend making out with another girl in front of him so he started to rub himself over his jeans and groan every time one of us whimpered in need.
•
I don't know how we ended up in this position so quickly, with Stu at the edge of his bed, his pants half down while me and Tatum made out with his dick in-between our lips. I sucked on the head of his member occasionally then continued kissing Tatum and she'd do the same a while after me.
"Fuck... You guys look so fucking good." Stu moaned and we giggled against his cock. The vibration coursing through his body sent him closer to the edge and the sight of us kissing his dick sloppily was about to do it for him.
"Mm, yes, keep going... Fuck" Stu moaned while grabbing a fist full of our hair in each hand. He thrust his hips up involuntarily until his moans got louder, and he blew his load on our faces. Me and Tatum licked and kissed his cum clean off each other.
"Get on the bed, both of you." Stu commanded and we did so. We positioned ourselves one on top of the other, facing up, our pussies on display for Stu to devour at the same time.
He licked up my slit and swirled his tongue on my clit softly while he rubbed Tatum, giving her some much needed attention between her legs. Then, he'd change his movements and rub my clit instead while eating Tatum out.
The two feelings of stimulation changing constantly was the perfect combination to get me and Tatum close nearly at the same time. Stu was skilled, knew exactly how to use his tongue and his fingers. Fuck.
I moaned louder by the second, signaling that I was getting close. Tatum did the same moments later, and when I came against Stu's tongue his girlfriend came just by the stimulation of his fingers against her clit.
Once we all caught our breaths we looked at each other silently, amusement and shock combined.
"You guys wanna shower?" Stu asked. Me and Tatum looked at each other seeking approval, which we did by smirking at the same time.
"Sure, babe."
-
Here's a little video of the position Tatum and the reader were in (💖)
tfw you have to call your girlfriend's house to talk to her girlfriend (who is also your boyfriends girlfriend) so you can get your boyfriend released from jail...
(click for better quality PLEASE I beg you)
under the tab are other versions of the drawing so click if you wanna see him with no shirt on .....wait what who said that.....
yall i don't even know how to explain this one i was possessed and controlled by the urge to draw stu macher all pretty and posed like this,,,, so i like when men are pretty SUE ME
credits to @atitanbitch for the idea to include Sid and Tatum in the little bubble and @powderedbleach for reminding me about THE ROBEEEE OH and ofc @harleykeenervarient for sending me the photo reference I used in the first place yall rock <3
included below are alternate versions of this drawing that I was having some fun with mwuahaha that includes no shirt, no shirt plus some ~shweed~ and also ofc trans version bc cmon
alright thats all for now.... thats my cue to slink back into the void until I return with another art drop BYEEEEEE
dededos
stormborns
annaxmalina
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
