This is a commission Iâve done for @iucifer666 !! Itâs Donnie Darko and their oc have wholesome halloween fun! If youâre interested in commissioning me, dm me!
rat chat: i used to have a format for this stuff, i forgot. anyways, more of me getting back into the swing of writing. i think this one is good. self indulgent smut at its finest. have fun!
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the scent of your perfume was like a weighted blanket wrapped around brahmsâ body. it smelled warm and cozy - it reminded him of when you went out to the garden to read, and heâd find a perfect spot near a window to lay under the sun beams and listen to you read aloud. you had such a smooth voice, and yet when he heard it, it made him hot and restless. he thought it was a bit like getting wax poured over you. it burned and dripped, and encased him in your being. if you were a candle, he thought, youâd be a deep purple. royal. untouchable. youâd smell floral, just like your perfume.
at first, he had found a sweater of yours. he liked it because it was your favourite to wear on cold, rainy nights. youâd sit by the window, staring out at the forest around the house, and talk quietly to brahms about your day, or your life, or your own childhood. heâd listen intently, usually falling asleep to the pitter patter against the windows and your own tired, husky voice. as much as he loved that sweater, it usually only smelt of rain, and one night when he caught you shivering without it, he couldnât help but return it to your bedside the next day.
next, it was a sundress. you only wore it on special occasions, youâd said. when days were sweltering, and wearing multiple layers was too much, youâd take out this thin, flowing dress that hugged your body just enough that he could see the wisps of your form when the fabric swayed against you. youâd walk around in it with no bra, your hair messy from humidity, and youâd complain about how the sun was being too hot on purpose. youâd even humour brahmsâ by changing his doll into just his button up and shorts, taking the shoes off and sitting it in the grass with you outside in the shade. when he touched the sundress, it reminded him of cool grass, and the humming of creeks nearby. he returned that one to you because you asked him nicely. one hot day in summer came around, and you were whining in his room about how you needed something comfortable. he wondered why you just didnât choose another piece of clothing, but he couldnât judge much. he had favourite clothes he couldnât part with. plus, you were so nice to him, and he could tell that under the whining was genuine upset.
he settled on something you wouldnât need or miss. one day, when brahmsâ had been scrounging around in your drawers while you occupied yourself with some light gardening, he had come across quite the little treasure. it was something he had never seen you wear, and it looked like there was a reason for it. it was out of your style completely. he pulled it out by the shoulder straps, hanging it in front of him so he could get a better look. it was a rich, deep colour, that he could imagine complimented your skin tone. it shone a bit, as if the fabric wasnât fabric at all, but some kind of⊠oil slick. he rubbed his thumbs against the chest of the dress, and it was smooth. it was quite short. he thought back to you and your own figure, and got lost in the idea of you actually wearing the dress. it would be tight, and would certainly ride up your bottom, and youâd be shining like the aurora borealis. he knew you would look stunning. itâs why it surprised him so much that you had never worn it.
he heard the front door of the house creak open and shut, and had stuffed it under his arm before scrambling back into the crawlspace. he had brought the treasure back to his hoard, and quickly found the perfect place for it among his collection. you never mentioned it, or even went looking for it. when youâd pull clothes from your drawer, you didnât hesitate or linger on a hint of something amiss. it was like you forgot you even had it. because of this, brahms didnât feel too guilty about keeping it for himself. heâd put it to better use anyways, instead of locking it away to never be admired.
now he was here, the doll and dress hugged tight to his body, imagining what situation youâd wear something like this in.
his mind wandered, distracted. it must be a dress for going out, he guessed. it looked like the sort of thing youâd use to attract someone - at least, he knew it would attract him. if he had ever seen you in it, he was sure he wouldnât be able to keep his hands off of you. youâre naughty, he thought, keeping such a skimpy outfit you knew would make people gawk and stare. maybe you didnât keep it for that, but kept it as a treat for a lover. it was a very scandalous piece of clothing, and you had hidden it, so it must be something you used on special occasions. brahmsâ managed to scrounge up a few dirty magazines, as every once in awhile they accidentally got sent to the house, and he kept a small box of them hidden away in his room. he knew a little about what partners did to make things âexcitingâ, but the idea of you doing it⊠it made him squirm. he fantasized about you looking for the dress, digging through your drawers with anticipation, knowing the second you slipped it on, youâd have your lover wrapped around your finger.
he pressed his face deeper into the fabric, taking a deep breath in, and refilling his lungs with your scent. it made him dizzy. his fingers danced along the seam, running up and down, and tracing each thread. he pulled the doll closer, wrapping his body around it as much as possible.
he wished youâd kept it for him. he knew that wasnât the case, you didnât even really know he was there, yet alone that he was a grown man, but he still wished. he closed his eyes tight, and imagined how you would surprise him.
heâd walk into the room after spending his whole day lost in music and reading. youâd be standing there, lights dim, but just high enough that the fabric sparkled like an ocean at night. youâd let him drag his eyes over you. he knew youâd like the attention. owning a dress like this meant you had to want to be stared at a little. he would tell you that, calling you a slut for wanting to be gawked at, before getting close to you and taking you into his arms. heâd kiss you - the way heâd seen people in the magazines do - and heâd push you down and climb on top of you. heâd take you, then and there, not bothering to remove the dress and instead just lifting it up.
the fantasy sent shivers down his spine, and he whimpered quietly into the plush of the doll. he shifted, making room for his hand to snake down into his pants and untuck his growing erection. he let out a small breath of relief when his aching cock hit the cool air of his room, and he quickly warmed it again by smothering it between the doll and his own body.
he resumed his day dreaming. he imagined shoving the skirt of your dress up, growling low as he wedged himself between your legs. he didnât want you shying away from him or closing them, he wanted to see everything. sometimes, youâd touch yourself in your room, but you always kept yourself hidden away with blankets and a hand covering your mouth. he wanted you to be loud, and writhe, and glisten for him.
he began a slow and steady rhythm with his hips, pushing up and down against the smooth fabric of the dress. it felt wrong. he felt naughty. he knew he wasnât supposed to take things that werenât his, and he knew he definitely wasnât supposed to use your things this, but he just couldnât help it. it was your fault. if you didnât speak so nicely, and smell so good, and didnât leave your clothes in your drawer for anyone to take, he wouldnât be doing this. but you did, and so he had no choice but to jerk off to the thought of you.
he imagined what youâd say if you caught him like this. he knew youâd chastise him. youâd call him a bad boy, a naughty boy, and youâd peer down at him with disappointment. heâd feel so pathetic, covered in his own precum and rutting like a dog. but, he wouldnât stop. even as you called him a mutt, and pulled at his hair, and said he was disgusting for taking your things, heâd keep moving. the thought made his hips buck hard, and he growled low, before letting out a high whine again. he imagined your hands rough against his body, pressing down into his searing flesh and pinning him to the bed, forcing him to stop. youâd climb on top of him, saying you had to teach him a lesson. youâd punish him. brahms didnât like being punished usually, since it always involved taking away his music privileges or not reading to him before bed. but, the idea of you punishing him by embarrassing him and making him feel small and weak⊠it sent heavy shocks through his body.
he let out a gasp, burying his face deep into the fabric of the doll. a wet patch was developing on his own shirt and the front of your dress. youâd probably punish him for that to; for ruining such nice, pretty fabric with his sticky, dirty seed. youâd probably force him to lick up whatever he spilled on your clothing, and youâd shove his face into it like a bad dog owner. maybe, youâd lay him over your knee, and spank him, and heâd be trapped with his hard cock wedged between your thighs, desperate to be touched. he could imagine fucking between them, grunting and whimpering while you stood still, just watching with an amused gaze.
he flipped himself over, laying on his back. he caught his breath with heavy pants, before pulling the doll on top of him. if he really tried, he could believe it was you, and believe you had willingly climbed on top of him, just to show him what it was really like to touch you. he imagined you sliding the dress up, revealing your damp panties underneath, and telling him to touch them. he slid his hand down between the legs of the dummy, momentarily upset it wasnât actually wet, but he quickly spit onto his hand and shoved it back down, pretending it was your slick. he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow.
he could see it. he could see you dragging your panties aside, telling him that if he was so needy, he couldâve just asked nicely. youâd then lift up, hover over his cock, and take him down in one easy go. at the same time, brahms covered his hand in spit, before wrapping it around his cock and beginning to pump. he had little hesitation, not worrying about whether or not he should go slow or savour the moment. he didnât think youâd make him. he thought youâd let him fuck up into you, and chase after the high he so desperately craved.
he pulled the doll down, taking in another deep breath of your perfume. he thrusted up into his own hand, his balls slapping against his fingers, the dummy bouncing with every movement. he grit his teeth, letting out more whines and whimpers, his body unable to keep still. his legs moved against the sheets, his free hand clutched at different areas on the dress, and his head turned back and forth. it was intense. he squeezed tight around his shaft, letting out a long, low moan at the feeling. he wondered if your cunt was this tight, or if heâd be able to slip in without any struggle, and wear you like a blanket. he wanted you wrapped around him. he could see it - he could see you grabbing at his arms, and scratching down his back, and begging for him to slow down. but he couldnât. he needed to cum, he needed- he-
he released into his hand with a grunt and a slew of soft, weak whimpers. he pumped until he felt empty, and even then, he did slow strokes until the pricks of overstimulation were too much.
he relaxed into the bed, his breath ragged. he pushed the doll down beside him, positioning it so that it lay against his side. he looked at it for a moment, imagining what it would be like to see you spent and weak from being used. it made him smile. heâd seen you sleeping before, and you always looked so⊠peaceful? focused? sometimes heâd sit by your bed for hours, just watching.
he blinked away the thoughts from his head. he sat up, plucking a tissue from the box beside him. he wiped his hand, discarding it into a small bin beside his bed. he then rolled back over, cuddling close with your dummy, and nuzzling his face into the would-be neck. he took one last deep breath, covering his body in you yet again, before drifting off to sleep, satisfied.
so glad to hear youre back! i hope everything is going alright! đ€
itâs going, thatâs for sure! again, Iâm trying to get back into the swing of things. thereâs always the worry iâll be disliked for disappearing, especially without much saying? but, Iâm trying. also gonna try and look through my ask box and fill some things as practice. just going with the flow rn.
includes: grinding over the clothes, groping, lots of affection, and a very horny reader
this is literally just me writing something to get back into the swing of things so⊠have fun. hopefully it isnât dog water.
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the first thing you felt was the thrum of his heartbeat.
it was rapid, and impactful against your palm. it felt like jasonâs heart was trying to escape the confines of his rough skin, and nuzzle into your palm. it felt a bit like a panicked, jumpy dog, you supposed. you wondered if that made sense, or if the fog of your mind was just clouding your judgement, the same way it was fogging up your vision in that moment.
you blinked away the confusion, and peered down at the body underneath you. jasonâs hips shifted under your weight, before ultimately settling back into the cushions of the couch. his eyes were obediently trained on you. you didnât have to look at him to know that. you could tell by the way his hands hovered just above your legs, waiting idly for some kind of permission to settle onto you and find peace against your flesh. you slid one of your hands down his body, and raised it to rest against knuckles. he was so much bigger than you. it wasnât that you were small - any size against him would look comically short. even as you pushed his hands down to your body, letting them find their place over your outer thighs, they engulfed you. once again, you couldnât tell if he was actually massive, or if you just felt coddled and smothered by his warmth and presence.
his gaze continued to bathe you, and your thumb rubbed over his knuckles. you felt him shift again. you could tell the affection sent shocks through his spine. it was a surge; it started at his brain, rushed down the nerves in his arms and legs, and shot back to the centre to settle lower at his⊠oh.
a smug smile couldnât help but pull at your lips. you really did try to hold it back, but it forced its way in. jason groaned, soft and breathy, whining at your expression, and you giggled. âsorry, sorry, youâre just so⊠so reactive today, big guy.â he turned his head away, feigning annoyance, but you saw the way he gazed at you from the corner of his eyes. his hands firmed against your legs. âhey, donât get all pouty, Iâm not being mean! itâs cute. you know i love it when youâre all shyyyyyâŠâ your voice was wound with mischief as your fingers wiggled their way under jasonâs shirt. his head whipped back around to you, and his hands began to raise, but you shook your head and tutted. âhands back where they were. if you be good, youâll get a treat.â
jason took a deep breath. you could feel his skin pushing further up against your palms, and the rivers of blood that ran underneath, all boiling with⊠embarrassment? arousal? you were sure it was both.
you waited patiently, observing jason to see if he really did want out from under you. he saw your hesitation, and sat up a bit, forcing your fingertips to press down into his flesh. his own hands planted back firmly on your thighs, sliding up until they grasped at your hips. he pulled you closer, your bottom halves now practically fused together through your clothes. you couldnât help but let out a yelp, then a chuckle at your own surprise and his eagerness.
âsettle down, Iâm not going anywhere,â you cooed, teasing. you glided your touch over his stomach, and up to the middle of his chest, pushing up the fabric of his top as you went. you made sure to trace over every scar and divot, mapping out the landscape of his being. as your hands went higher, the patch of fuzz that grew over his chest got a bit thicker, and you could feel the layer of sweat covering his body. it had been a hot day, so most of it was from the heat, but you knew some of it was your fault. it made you even more confident.
you spread out your hands, gathering as much of his pecs as you could, and squeezing them. he bucked against you, the movement only further alerting you of his size and strength. if steam could leave your ears, youâd be whistling.
you slipped your hands out from under his shirt, and he let out another groan, this one more desperate and pleading. you shook your head, bunching up the bottom of his top in your grasp. âcalm down, donât worry⊠Iâm right hereâŠâ you shushed him, one hand now holding up his shirt, the other groping at his chest with not a hint of shame.
the second you grabbed at him again, you could hear a gasp leave underneath the plastic of his mask. he turned his head, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes, still perfectly focused on you. they raked over you, settling at where your body met his. his gaze darted back to yours, before he did a small, testing roll of his hips. you hummed, continuing your work of his chest, now with the added movement of your lower half in rhythm with his. you could hear a thankful grunt leave his throat. it was like wrestling a bear, but with less violent mauling and a lot more man boob than youâd expect. so, really, it wasnât much like wrestling an actual bear at all, you thought.
you blinked back into reality when you felt his cock throb hard against the seam of his pants. you glanced down, examining the outline of his member pressing flush against the fabric of his bottoms. despite how cocky you had been, the sight of something so lewd made your cheeks hot. he was just so⊠needy. the way he bucked frantically into you, the way he pulled you as close to him as possible, the way he panted and growled and whined; it was all so pornographic.
you leaned down. jason took this chance to maneuver you subtly. he slid his hands back a bit further from your hips to your ass. he sat up a bit, causing you to fall forward into his chest. the position kept you snug against him, your head nestled into the crook of his neck. he grinded against you, and you let him, sitting and allowing him to move you how he wanted. he deserved this, you thought, heâd been such a good boy. you pressed your lips to his throat, listening to the hitch of his breath. heat flooded out of his mask and onto your face.
âyouâre close,â you observed. you felt him throb once again against you, and he grumbled in a validating way. you breathed him in deep, then wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. he squeezed you back, huffing and pushing his mask against your cheek. you nodded, and he didnât need you to speak to know what it meant. as he chased after his high, you pushed just the bottom of his mask up, enough that you could kiss his bottom lip. he gasped, dipping his head down and catching your mouth against his, kissing you frantic and weak while he shuddered and spasmed through an orgasm. you smiled against his lips.
jason rode out his climax, his shaking and rutting turning into deep breaths and twitching hips. you pushed him down gently and slid your lower half off of his and further up his stomach, working to prevent any overstimulation (youâd save it for another day). he sunk into the couch, and you chuckled, spreading over him like a blanket. his hands came to rest on your back. he looked so at peace, finally having let his eyes close.
âsomeone looks relaxed,â you hummed. he nodded, and raised his head so he could look down at you. his fingertips moved to the hem of your pants, and he tilted his head to the side inquisitively. you shook your head, smiling. âdonât worry, Iâm just happy you had fun. you chill out. weâll deal with me later, okay?â
he nodded, laying back down and pulling you up his body. he rolled onto his side, hugging you close to his chest and curling around you. you whined loudly, wiggling against him. ânooooo! itâs too hot! jason, Iâm gonna melt, especially after all that!â you laughed, stretching your arms out in front of you and grasping at some imaginary force you hoped would pull you to freedom. he fought you for a moment, before huffing and pulling you flush against him yet again. you felt a familiar twitching against your back, and you rolled your eyes.
âround two already, huh? welp. time to get back to work, i guess.â you rolled over, your knee going between your legs. you flipped his mask up and kissed him, feeling his heart beat thumping yet again. you wondered if this would be the time it finally escaped.
iâve been gone for a very very long time now - life has been kicking my little rat butt - but recently iâve been getting back into horror movies and my love of all things slasher. i think now that my life has stabilized and Iâm not so feral (in a not fun way) iâll be able to come back to writing. probably sooner than i think. i want to be consistent this time too, since itâs a very freeing hobby, even if it is shameless horny ramblings about beefy weirdos.
anyways, all that to say, i hope everyone whoâs been following me and reading my stuff is willing to have me back. i apologize for my disappearance, and i hope thereâs still a place for my flavour of freak.
May I add you to my slasher writers list and would you ever write about Charles lee ray, Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair,or hannable from movie or series?
i dunno what a writerâs list is! if itâs just a list of peeps that write for slashers, that seems cool?
uh also, i have. iâve written brahms and vincent sinclair content. multiple of each, actually. iâd maybe suggest reading through my blog a bit more. everything should be tagged properly.
well. slashers, i feel like, is an obvious yes. thatâs my whole blog. also, itâs in my nameâŠ? i donât know much about dead by daylight. i know there are some classic guys in there, but when it comes to the killers that are specific to the game, i donât know much about them.
huh. i havenât really thought about it. i guess kinda the usual? donât interact if youâre under 18, donât spam my inbox, know that i wonât always get to asks, etc, etc. i donât think Iâm on enough to have set rules other than that.
rat chat : wrote this as a warm up, thought yâall might like it. definitely an acquired taste. but if you wanna see billy get jealous of a stuffie and then fuck it, your prayers have been answered. i hope you enjoy!
billy didnât know how he had gotten into a rivalry with stuffed animals of all things, but, to be fair, he didnât know a lot of things. what he did know was that it all started with his animosity towards that one stupid, fluffy, sickly sweet pink thing.
truly, he blamed you. you had brought it home one day from a night out with your friends, excited to show off the prize you had won from a crane game at the arcade. you had to spend a bit of time explaining to him why it was such a feat, and at first, he was very proud. using a fake arm to get a treat out of a box? seemed difficult. he knew with his shaky fingers and twitchy muscles he wouldâve wasted every penny trying to even brush against it. but you? you had grabbed one of the biggest stuffed animals there; it was a large, bubblegum coloured elephant, just over half the size of your torso. apparently it was a big deal for everyone involved. you boasted that the managers looked mighty angry when you pulled it from the slot of the machine, and you bragged that there was even a bit of dust on it from how long it had probably sat untouched. he just sat and listened, fiddling with the fluff of its fur (he was pretty sure elephants didnât even have that), and watching the way you cradled it close to your chest.
the first night you had it home, you insisted on washing it. âi gotta make sure itâs clean, i donât really know where itâs been,â you explained, placing it in the wash with care. he stood near you, watching closely. the laundry was something he took interest in. after all, thatâs where the smell of your clothes came from, and he liked that. sometimes, when you would be gone at work, heâd sit in front of the dryer and wait for the little tune to play, and then pull out the warm clothes and lay in them, imagining it was you he was rolling around in. often times, it would end with him having to slip some of the clothes back into the hamper, having made them sticky with his âactivitiesâ.
billy had slept in his usual place that night. he nuzzled his way into your arms, and you wrapped around him tight, stroking his hair and letting him ramble as you drifted off. bedtime was his favourite part of the day. thatâs when he got you all to himself, no interruptions. he was a selfish man; he didnât like that you had to give other things attention. during these moments, when you were stuck to him, heâd take every chance heâd get to indulge himself in you. his hands would slide up and down your hips and the back of your thighs, and his fingers would dip under your shirt and press into that warm, soft flesh just above your butt. his lips always found somewhere to latch onto. drool would dribble out and down your skin, and youâd giggle every time heâd graze his teeth over the sensitive, tickly spots on your neck and collarbone. heâd tangle his legs in yours, making sure he was as close as possible. he didnât care if it was summer, he couldnât sleep without trying to merge your two bodies together like some funky little homunculi.
during this time, heâd usually be whispering all the things he had been thinking about that day. âm-missed you⊠missed my pretty girl⊠missed your body- missed you against meâŠâ that soft, pathetic little tone would leak out between wet, sloppy sucks of your flesh, and youâd pat his head gently and reassure him that you missed him too. he knew you werenât lying. heâd feel that heat between your legs, the kind that made you squeeze them tighter around him and press even closer to his thigh, and it would make his head spin. âpiggy wants me? tell me. tell me my piggy wants me- tell me. i w-want it, tell me- billy wants to hear you squeeeaaaaal~â there was something about that uneven grin and big eyes that heâd stare up at you with that would melt you, and you two would end up staying up a bit later to have quality time together.
that was the routine. it was perfect. why did it have to change just because of some stupid elephant?
the next day, you had woken up early to go to work. you peeled off of him, and padded your way to the bathroom, careful to be quiet. billy would usually still be asleep, sprawled out in the sheets. he found that when he had a proper bed, and not just some dingy mattress and blankets in an attic, he was quite the squirmy sleeper. you once theorized it was because he finally had the space to actually be comfortable, but he didnât really care why, he was just happy to not feel sore in his bones like he used to.
on the way back from the bathroom, you threw your stuffie into the dryer. you got dressed, kissed your messy man on the forehead, and left for your shift.
the day had been uneventful. billy had woken up an hour or so later, and did the routine you had showed him to do. he took a shower, rinsed his hair out, and made sure to wash in all the important spots. after the night before, he couldnât help but lean his back against the cold tile of the shower, and let the warm water burn him up while he pressed his nose against your bottle of soap. he couldnât help but inch his hand down around his shaft, feeling it ache at the smell of you. he had learned from past mistakes that holding the bottle against his face was enough. no licking, no tasting- just breathing in your scent and rubbing over himself was enough to make him spill down the drain in minutes. after that, heâd step out of the shower, wrap himself up in a towel, and brush his teeth in front of the mirror. this was something you insisted upon him doing. for a long time, his face was something he didnât recognize. heâd stare at his own reflection, and wonder who that stranger was, and why they kept frowning at him. but now, after a year or so of normality (or, the closest he could get to it), the face he saw felt like more of an old friend than anything.
shower done, teeth brushed, heâd get dressed and make breakfast. after breakfast, it was getting his chores done, and after chores, he would sit in the garden in the backyard and look at all the bugs and odd weeds. heâd draw the ones he wanted you to see. he had learned quickly that bringing them into the house wasnât something you were always super excited for, especially the bugs, but you always made sure to keep his drawings.
in the afternoon, you came home, and he ran to the door to greet you as he always did. he followed you around as you unpacked your things. he wouldnât talk much, just listening to you as you set your work clothes aside, and talked about your day, and all the things you had to deal with. this time, as you went to the bedroom to change out of your uniform, you stopped by the dryer and pulled out that pink beast again. billy watched you cradle it close to your chest, and for just a moment, he felt a twinge of something in his stomach. at that moment, he couldnât tell what it was, but hindsight made it very clear that it was the bubblings of jealousy.
you set it down on your bed, and began switching into your pyjamas. he sat down beside it, stealing glances at it while he watched you free yourself from the confines of your bra. he even pushed it over so it wouldnât get a look. this was his, after all. he didnât plan on sharing the show with anyone.
he had gotten better at keeping his hands to himself, at least while you were trying to get things done. but the second you bent over to pull your pants up, his hands shot out and grabbed at your thighs, pulling you back into his lap. you let out a small shriek, landing on top of him, and laughing. âhey, not in front of pinky!â you exclaimed, batting at the hands running up your shirt.
billy paused, tilting his head to the side. âp-pinkyâŠ?â his voice was light and raspy, curious, as he looked around the room.
âyeah, i thought it would be a cute name for our new friend,â you explained, patting the head of that abomination next to you. billy looked over, feeling that same bubbling from before rising again in his stomach. he glared at the elephant, before shoving it off the bed, and pushing you down onto the spot where it once was. you giggled, wriggling around as he climbed on top of you, sliding between your legs like he had many times before, and pressing his erection flush up against your warmth. his head dipped down, burying into your chest, and he took a deep breath. you burned up his senses. he let his tongue lull out, cooling the quickly heating flesh with his saliva. it felt like licking an element. he hoped it would leave a burn, so that youâd have to care for him, and stay with him, and pamper him.
your hands slid up his back, stopping so your palm could massage his shoulder blades, before continuing on to weave your fingers into his hair. he groaned softly, pulling his head up so he could glance at you. you were giving him that soft smile, the one that showed contentedness and comfort. it made him feel like melting wax, and he settled down against your body, resting his cheek against one of your breasts so he could listen to the gentle thump of your heart beat.
âyou just wanna cuddle for a bit?â you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow. he nodded, his arms wrapping around your torso.
âwarm⊠piggy feels warm and i-i wanna⊠wanna use you like a heater,â he grumbled. âb-burn billy.â
you hummed, twirling a strand around your finger. âi donât think i can burn you with just my skin, unfortunately.â
ây-you can try.â his voice was deep and determined, and it brought back the fire that had been building in his stomach. he wiggled his way back up your body, boxing you in with his arms so he could press his weight down on top of you. he tried to cover you with as much of him as possible, wanting to mix with your own being and melt into you.
you two stayed like that for awhile; billy pressing his hips into you every once in awhile and rutting against you. youâd feel his erection prodding against your pussy through your underwear, and youâd push it up into him to provide him some extra relief. heâd take this willingly, and hump you like you were nothing more than a pillow. but you knew he didnât see you as just an object. you were so much more.
after the fun, a shower was had and dinner was made, and the cool air of summer rolled in through the windows. you settled into bed with a book, and that pink thing was off the floor and on the pillow beside you. billy couldnât keep his eyes off of it. it felt like it was looking right back at him, and he didnât like it. he pulled his own pyjamas on, and climbed into bed.
âyou ready to turn out the lights?â you asked, closing up the novel with a satisfying snap. he nodded, and as he wiggled under the blanket, and turned towards you to take up his usual place, he noticed you werenât facing towards him.
this made him immediately worried. he leaned over you, investigating your change in position, and immediately found the culprit. that stupid, ugly thing was taking up his place in your arms. you were nuzzling your face against its head, squeezing it close to you. you looked comfortable, and while he was always happy to see you happy, he couldnât help but frown.
âp-piggy?â he pushed you gently with his hand, and you wiggled a bit.
âmhm? you gonna come cuddle?â you purred, as if what you were doing wasnât abnormal.
âb-billy⊠billy canât, youâre not-â he paused, trying to find the words, but they were getting clogged up with frustration. how dare that thing take his spot? it shouldâve known its place. he almost had half the mind to rip it out of your hands and tear the stuffing out with his teeth.
âof course you can, whatâre you talking about? just be big spoon tonight, silly.â you wiggled your butt a bit, as if inviting him to slide up against you. you couldnât see it, but his brows were furrowing, and he was wringing his fingers out. somehow, it felt like he was losing. it seemed silly to feel that way. he knew it was just a stuffed animal, he knew it had no intention of taking his place, and yetâŠ
he shook the thoughts from his head. he cozied up behind you, wrapping his arms as tightly around you as possible, and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
this position felt different. it felt⊠wrong. he couldnât see you. he couldnât kiss your face, or bite at your collarbone, or suck on that ticklish flesh on your throat. he couldnât smother his face with your breasts. the way you had bunched yourself up against this doll made it so that he really couldnât reach much of you at all. every time he went to dip his hands into your shirt and up towards your chest, he was met with the feeling of that plush stopping his passage, like a tunnel that had a cave in. what was even worse was that you didnât see the problem. you just laid there, falling asleep quickly, without the usual before bedtime play.
billy couldnât sleep, though. he stayed up for awhile, festering, and mumbling into the back of your neck. he knew it wouldnât wake you, you had become quite used to his rants during the night, but he almost wished you would hear him. he was grumpy. how could something like that take his place? how could you let it? the only reassurance he had was that it wouldnât last. it would just be tonight, and then by tomorrow youâd have lost interest, and it would be discarded to the pile of the other stuffed animals you decorated the room with.
but, obviously, that didnât happen.
the next night rolled around, and he was met with your back again. and the night after. and the night after that. this continued for a week, with the disgust he felt towards that bubblegum catastrophe mounting. there were times where he almost told you, and confessed that he despised that eyesore, but heâd see the way you held it close, and smiled so sweetly when you slept with it, that he couldnât bring himself to.
it all came to a head when one day, in the early morning, as you were getting ready for work and doing your usual routine, you walked over to the bed thinking billy was asleep. truthfully, he thought he was asleep too. he was in and out of a dream state, going between watching you through hooded eyes, to imagining all the fun youâd get up to later when you got home. you grabbed your phone off the bedside table, gave a quick kiss to billyâs forehead, and then⊠you gave one to the stuffed animal.
it nearly made billy jump out of bed. you hadnât seen, turning around and walking out the door without a second thought, but his eyes had widened in what felt like betrayal. that was his kiss. that was his special treat, that was his promise that you would be home soon, that was his- you were his. he refused to share, even with some stuffed abomination.
he waited until he heard the front door close, and then sat up. before he knew it, he had wrapped his hand around the things neck, and held it out in front of him in inspection. it mustâve been playing mind tricks. how else had it made you fall in love with it so fast? it wasnât that cute, it wasnât that interesting- in billyâs opinion, it was quite hard to even look at. the bright colours made his eyes ache, and the stupid expression it wore looked shifty and untrustworthy. what did you see in this thing?
his fingers squeezed the fur of the plushie, his nails digging into it and against the fabric underneath. he didnât like it. he didnât want you to like it. he needed it gone. he needed it ruined. he needed to ruin it. this was revenge. it shouldâve known better. today was the day he got rid of that thing.
billy did what he did best. he pushed the stuffed animal up into his face, opening his mouth wide and biting down hard on the fluffy âfleshâ of the doll, before beginning to pull at it with his teeth. the fabric began to tear, releasing little hairs and fluff into his mouth. it made him sputter and spit, and he pulled away, wiping his tongue off on his arm. it was fighting back now? how dare it? he squeezed it again in his hands, bringing it up for another bite, sinking his teeth into the torso and ripping some of the seams undone. he listened to the sound, satisfied. it made him feel good, like he was succeeding over it somehow. sure it was inanimate, but it shouldâve known better than to get in between him and his precious piggy.
the thought of you made his veins run warm. he couldnât put the blame on you. this thing mustâve put you under a spell, you just needed to be released from it. you needed to be reminded that it was billy you wanted. billy was the best cuddle, he was the one you should hold and snuggle, and he was surely the only one you should be kissing.
as the thoughts of you swam through his head, he breathed in deep. his eyes widened a bit when he realized how much this thing smelled of you. part of him was immediately soothed. any reminder of you made him feel safe, and took away those pesky, buzzing thoughts. but, another, larger part of him felt enraged. how dare this thing steal your scent? how dare it flaunt the fact itâs been so close to you that it even smells like you? the audacity.
he pressed it closer, feeling a damp spot forming on part of the fabric. he was beginning to drool. he couldnât help it. every time he thought of you, and thought of burying his face in you, and holding you, he salivated. if he could keep you on his tongue like a mint he would. he wanted to taste you. it had been days since youâd played with him. youâd say you were busy, or youâd have your nose in your new book, or youâd be curled up with this stuffie. he had gotten better about not prying, and not insisting that you let him use you- but, he was sure you mustâve noticed the way he pawed at your thighs and rutted himself against your ass. rightâŠ?
he pulled his face away, panting softly. he had nearly smothered himself. he wanted to suck all of your smell off of this thing. it didnât deserve it. he deserved it.
he stared down at the plushie, this thing you adored so much. two large holes were now in its body, with stuffing spilling out. it looked almost gorey. he glanced towards the door of the bedroom, almost expecting you to come back in and chastise him, like some dog that ripped up the carpet. but you didnât come. it was just him and this thingâŠ
before billy even realized, he was peeling the comforter off of his body and yanking down his pyjamas pants. he sat up on his knees, pushing the stuffie down in front of him. he shifted from leg to leg, feeling something fluttering in his stomach. he shouldnât be doing this. this was something you had been proud to bring home. this is something you had held so carefully. this is something that had taken his spot. as that thought flew by his head, the rest of his consciousness pushed aside to make way for his skewed logic. if this thing had the gaul to take his spot in your arms, it obviously didnât know its place. it was just a dumb toy, and billy loved dumb toys.
billy reached his hand down, squeezing it around his shaft. he let out a soft breath through his nose, biting down on his bottom lip while he stroked himself to an erection. the knowledge that what he was doing was wrong only fuelled the ache in his cock. he could imagine your face when youâd seen what heâd done. youâd thank him for freeing you from the throes of whatever curse this thing had put on you. youâd throw it in the trash immediately, and hold billy again like he was your favourite doll. he was. he knew he was, this thing had just tricked you.
once he was hard, he pressed his dick up against the surface of the plushie. the fluff of the fur rubbed smoothly up against him. if he wasnât so angry, he mightâve admitted that it felt nice. but, instead, he just glared down at the thing, squeezing his hands around its head. he began rutting his hips, pushing himself up and down the torso of the stuffie. he bit down hard on his lip, focused on his task of ruining this rival of his.
with every movement of his hips, he let out a small grunt of pleasure. that fluttering feeling had turned into a tornado. it tore up his stomach, and created such a satisfying ache in his balls. this felt so dirty. he felt like a stupid mutt tearing up its masterâs slippers, but even then it was so much more than that. he was a gallant knight, protecting his princess from falling under an evil spell. this was chivalrous. he repeated this in his head while he humped the toy, reassuring himself that he was being considerate, not selfish. he was doing this for you. you needed to see how ugly this thing really was.
billy gasped, pulling away from the fur of the doll and looking down at the mess heâd made so far. there were small, sticky beads of precum caught within the fluff. he reached down, rubbing it into the fabric. he wrapped a hand around his cock, squeezing out another few beads of precum, before wiping it onto the beady eyes of the doll as well. he didnât want it seeing him. it didnât deserve to see what was rightfully yours, and the fact it even thought it could get away with it reminded billy of his goal.
he found the hole he had made in the torso, using his fingers to pull the rip apart. the doll had been tightly packed, the stuffing bursting out. he pressed his fingers into it, feeling how tight it was inside. he could make it work. this would teach it.
he held the stuffie up to his face, gathering all the saliva that had pooled in his mouth and spitting it into the open hole. he once again stuck his digits inside, making sure to spread the fluid around onto the nearby stuffing, before pushing it back down onto the bed. he lifted himself up, positioning the head of his dick right at the opening. for a moment, he hesitated. did he really want to destroy something of yours like this? did he really think this would make you happy, or was he doing it for himself? he shook the thoughts from his head. this thing was even beginning to play mind tricks on him, the bastard.
he pushed his cock into the tear. he breathed heavy out of his nose, feeling the tightness of the stuffing around him. it was wet, but not wet enough that it didnât tickle him a little to move. it felt silly. he wondered what youâd think if you saw him like this. would you be disappointed? youâd walked in on him humping your pillow before. you had looked at him with a flame in your eyes, and that night you had made him ride it until he spilled all over himself, and then made him lick up the mess. he had to do the laundry after, as well, but that was a fine price to pay for the fun he had. maybe youâd do the same here. youâd be proud of him for taking initiative, and destroying such an ugly thing. maybe it was all a test. maybe you were watching him now, so happy that he was so loyal that heâd destroy something that even dared be near you, whether alive or not.
he groaned thinking about it. the idea of you peeking through the door, watching him defile this innocent little plush- he throbbed. he didnât dare ruin his fantasy, keeping his eyes away from the bedroom door while he began thrusting into the doll. he used his hands to squeeze the torso around him, making it tight to his shaft. a moan slipped passed his lips, and his head fell forward so he could stare down at his enemy. he watched how with every push of his cock inside of it, stuffing fell out, further ruining this eyesore. precum leaked inside of it, making the inner fluff sticky and slick. it became easier and easier to move. soon, he barely remembered that this was some ugly plush elephant, and he was imagining it was you. he thought about the way youâd squirm under him, and squeeze your legs around his waist, and pull him deeper into you. youâd moan his name like it was a chant to god. he wasnât much of a religious man, but he worshipped you like you were his creator. sometimes he thought that the only reason he was alive was to fuck you.
he let out another deep moan, shifting his weight so he could fuck harder into the plushie. it felt so warm, so soft⊠he was starting to shake. he trembled with the intensity of a nearing orgasm. he couldnât believe he was going to cum from this. he felt dirty, but it felt so good.
he pulled himself out of the doll, wrapping his hand around his cock quickly and beginning to stroke. he didnât want to grace this abomination with his cum inside of it. you wouldnât see it then. he wanted you to see the mess he made, he wanted you to know how much he despised it.
with every pump of his hand, he moaned your name. this was for you. it was all for you. he reached down, quickly ripping an arm from the doll, and pushing it into his face. it smelled of you and him now. it made him shudder, and he breathed deep, before releasing thick, sticky ropes over the body and face of the plushie. he relaxed, his head lolling forward.
he admired his work. the stuffed animal was torn to pieces, with bits of fluff spilling out over the sheets, and a mess of cum drying into the fabric. he felt proud of himself. he stood up, leaving the remnants of the doll on the bed, before going to start his own daily routine.
he had nearly forgotten about it.
that was, until you got home, and he followed you around as he usually did. you had been talking about your boss, and how they were throwing your team a little party at the arcade for how well you all had been doing. as you walked into the bedroom to get changed into your comfy clothes, you saw the crime scene on the bed. billy stopped in his tracks, nearly turning around to run.
he watched you walk over to it, and run your hands over the fuzz, feeling the dried mess he had left. he didnât expect you to laugh, looking back at him with a smile. âdid you fuck pinky?â you asked, amazed. he shook his head at first, but then you raised an eyebrow, and it made him hesitate. âso, someone just broke in and fucked my stuffed animal? thatâs what youâre saying?â he looked away from you, biting his lip. this was the moment he had been waiting for. why wasnât he taking credit for his workâŠ?
âi-i⊠maybe⊠b-billy couldnât help it-â
you looked back at the stuffie and chuckled. âwow! i didnât think you liked it THAT much. you really tore this thing up.â
billyâs eyes widened. âw-what?â
âwell, you did a number on pinky. but donât worry, iâll get you a new one when i head back to the arcade. this time, itâll be even bigger! and hopefully not so easy to tear up.â you picked up the remnants, and walked passed billy into the hallway, kissing him on the way out.
this was the beginning of a long running war. billy was sure that somehow, somewhere, that elephant knew it had won.
rat chat : alright letâs see if i still got it. this is just a little thing about you and vince having a tender, sweet moment. hope you enjoy!!
vincentâs fingers curled tighter around the pen, a slight tremble to his hand. his skin felt tingly; the sensation of soft static running up and down his spine, and along his arms. it made him uncomfortable, it made him squirm and twist in his seat, but it also created electric surges in his tendons. he liked the way it made his pen jolt across the page as he sketched out the wax figures strewn across his desk. he liked the way it made his muscles twitch.
it was all because of you.
every little shock to his system was a reminder that someone was watching, looking over his shoulder and gazing down at him as he worked. your eyes traced up and down his skin, shooting those little beams of electricity into his nerves and making him overheat. it was your fault he was like this, so full of energy, so alive. with every scrape of his pen across the page, and every new bit of ink smudged to create shadow, he was reminded of you - his muse and his audience.
a hand landed down on his shoulder, and it made him jump. you had been standing over him for a bit, watching him draw in a comfortable but thick silence. he never complained when you did so. he wouldnât shoo you away or hide his work, at least not anymore. he liked to feel you linger. but, you tended to keep a bit of space. this was a bold move.
he straightened up a bit under your touch, his hand stopping to hover over the paper. you leaned closer, your gaze still trained on the sketches littering the page.
âdonât stop. i just wanted to get a better look.â your breath puffed softly against his neck. it was nothing, just little breaths slipping out between vowels, and yet a surge ran through his back. he gripped his pen tight, pressing it down to the paper firmly but unmoving. he felt embarrassed. it was just breathing, everyone breathed. why did you have to do it so close to his skin, though? why did you have to watch him so intently, and speak so softly, and press so closelyâŠ
âyâknow, the way you draw is mesmerizingâŠâ your voice was so hushed, so soft, with so much admiration. it pulled him down from his thoughts, grounding him to you. he could barely feel your hand running down his arm, tracing along his veins, then stopping to rest at the back of his own. you opened your hand, palm up, as if expecting something. he had learned how to read you, at least a bit, and so he discarded his pen and placed his hand over top of yours. you hummed a sound of agreement, as if he had chosen the correct option. you opened up your fingers, splaying them apart, and he did the same. you chuckled. your fingers barely reached his third knuckle, your palm three quarters the size of his own. it disappeared underneath him. you disappeared underneath him.
âyou have such a gentle touch. youâre so skilled with your fingers. youâre so talented,â you praised. he felt his insides turning to liquid. his cheeks were starting to burn, and he wondered if his mask would start to slip from melting away. you slipped your palm from underneath his own, flipping it so you could run your fingertips along his fortune lines. he wondered, if in all your wisdom and light, you could see what his future held.
vincent let out a heavy breath through his nose. he tried to look at you through the side of his maskâs eyeholess, but all he could make out was a tuft of hair and a bit of skin. he didnât dare turn his head. if he moved, he might frighten you, and youâd run away like a scared deer. he was sure of it. why wouldnât you run from him?
as you continued to inspect him, you tilted your head to the side inquisitively, bumping your head into his temple. such a gentle touch, paired with being so charged from being so close, made him twitch slightly in reaction. you, in turn, jumped, and straightened up a bit, hand pulling quick back up to his shoulder.
âsorry, i didnât mean to distract you. i just thought you deserved a compliment,â you said sheepishly. âcontinue. iâll just watch.â
he could feel your touch lightening, and it frightened him. without thought, he reached back, grabbing your wrist and planting it back on his body. your breath hitched, he could feel the small puff of air against the top of his head. he wondered if you looked surprised. he wondered if you looked scared. worry bubbled in the pit of his stomach, and he released his now trembling grasp. he instead moved to rest his hand gently over yours, almost chaste with how light he touched you. you had an option to go. you could take it.
âvincentâŠ?â his name was so soft on your lips. as he turned towards the sound, his world was becoming a blur. one moment he was facing forward in the desk, staring down one of his smaller figures, and the next he was facing you, his hands sliding up the sides of your legs and over your hips. he wasnât thinking. his brain was foggy, his eyes clouded over with an odd, hungry look. it wasnât a strong look, more of a weakened, starved, pleading sort of gaze. âvincent, your handsâŠâ he glanced down, surprised to find that he had slipped his digits under your shirt, smoothing them over the static tickling between each of your skins. It made him purr, or the equivalent to it.
you smoothed a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face so you could study his face. he seemed so desperate to take, and yet so hesitant to move. he just rubbed circles into the side of your stomach, never taking his gaze away from your middle.
âhey, you okay? i feel like youâre short-circuiting here.â you softly chuckled, finally relaxing underneath his touch. he could feel your muscles loosen under his grip. he felt his own shoulders slump just a little. he hadnât even realized how on edge he must have looked.
to your question, he nodded, pulling you closer so that he could wrap his arms gently around your waist. you leaned into him, allowing him to embrace you. he engulfed you. he held you tight, cocooning you against his body. there was nothing to protect you from, and yet he felt the need to protect.
he rubbed his cheek against the middle of your chest, once again letting out his deep rumble of a purr. he sounded content. you were quite enjoying the situation too. usually, vince was towering over you, looking at you through his dark, messy hair and that maskâs dim eyeholes. but, like this, with him peering up at you so adoringly, you could see the details of the wax, and his dilated pupils filled with admiration. it sent heat through your body. no one had ever looked at you like this. it was so warm, so precious. and the way he leaned against you was so tender, and yet between the both of you, it felt like you were melting together.
you brushed some of his locks from his face, making him turn his gaze completely up towards you, instead of peeking out from your skin. you smiled, and it felt like a ray of sun to vincent. he leaned up, reaching out to cup your face and pull you down towards him. you couldnât help but cut the tension with a tender giggle, pressing soft kisses to the lips and cheeks of his mask. he sighed softly, continuing to hold your chin in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks as if sculpting your face itself.
âyouâre so sweet, yâknow that?â you cooed, finally ending your small borage with a kiss on his nose. âtalented and tender, a real package.â you patted his shoulders gently, and he lightened up his grip from your face. you were so soothing. he sunk back in his chair a bit, and you slipped to stand between his legs. âsoâŠ? you wanna keep drawingâŠ? maybe this time i can sit in your lapâŠ?â you asked, almost coy in the way you spoke.
his eyes widened a little, and he nodded. he was lucky he had the mask on. the smile he wore was almost embarrassingly big.
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