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joelswritingmistress · 6 months

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Last Halloween: Chapter 4

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Angst, talks of violence

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

"I'm pissed off," you shouted, finally getting out of the sad funk you had been in the night before. When you slammed a cabinet a little too hard, Jessie's eyes lifted toward you from behind her coffee cup.

"Okay," she said in a way that reminded you of a therapist. "You can be pissed off. You have every right to be but, uh, what did that cabinet do to you?" The end part wasn't an actual lecture. She chuckled as she spoke the last few words.

"I just don't get it," you went on, shoving your own coffee mug beneath the Keurig and reaching for a pod beside it. A part of you feared Joel might actually remove himself fully from your life. You didn't want that.

"I'm not excusing the way he handled things with you, because he didn't have any right to be a jerk," Jessie began. "But I can't imagine being in his shoes. He was so on guard when we were there, like he was afraid to move. And then that asshole had to come in and ruin it when he finally started to relax. I mean, Joel was not charged with murder, or even manslaughter. I don't know why this town demonizes him so much."

"That's why I want to keep this a secret from Winnie and Chrissy. I love them but they won't even think about giving him a chance."

Jess zipped her lips. "I got you covered, girl."

You smiled. "Thank you."

"I didn't really know what he looked like, but he's hot at least." Your friend said, beginning to toy with an LL Bean catalogue that sat on the kitchen table.

"He is, isn't he?" You almost sighed when you said that, but remembered you were mad and your posture changed accordingly as you continued to prepare your coffee. "Nope, I'm still pissed."

Jessie licked her fingers and flipped to the next page. "Well, you go right ahead and be pissed." She looked back at you, pretending to scold you. "Just don't go slamming things."

You giggled and went to join her at the small kitchen table.

"Did you kiss him last night?"

You half-smiled and shook your head. "No."

"Not even in the photobooth?" Jessie wondered aloud. She glanced around. "Where's the picture strip?"

You glanced around. "I.. don't even know. Probably my purse or my car." You shook your head. "Things were going so well. We were having so much fun."

You both sipped on your coffee and from somewhere outside you heard the revving of a motorcycle. The noise grew louder and louder as it approached and the two of you exchanged a glance.

"Is this your boy, now?" Jessie jumped up out of her chair and practically raced you toward the front windows that overlooked the front yard.

"Jessie!"

"It's him." She turned to you and laughed.

"Shit." You put a hand on your forehead and turned to her. "What do I do? What do I say?"

"Want me to buffer so you can get your thoughts together?"

It was the best idea you could think of, and so you nodded and tried to come up with a plan of action in your mind. When the motorcycle's engine turned off, Jessie yanked open the front door and met Joel halfway on the front porch that lead into the house.

"Hi there." Jessie looked at him with accusatory eyes and Joel immediately put his tail between his legs.

"Hey. I'm sorry to just drop by like this. But is-"

"She's here," your friend cut him off, placing her hands on her hips.

"Would, uh, would it be alright if I talked to her? I'd like to apologize for the way I acted last night."

Jessie looked over her shoulder at you through the open front door and gave a subtle wink, though when she turned back to Joel turned her face back to stone and shrugged. "I'll see if she'll come talk to you."

You allowed Jessie back inside, exchanging a little smile before you took her place outside on the porch.

Joel immediately closed the gap between the two of you and you didn't attempt to move away. Being close to him again felt good, despite still being a bit mad.

"I just want to say I'm sorry," He went on, "For the way I acted last night. I took everything out on you and you're the only person, besides Ron at the garage, who's been nice to me in a really long time."

You shifted your eyes to meet his more directly and he went on.

"I really don't want to push you away. And as hard as things have been for me this year, it's no excuse to treat you that way." He concluded with. "I'm really sorry."

It was genuine. You knew that for certain. Joel experienced a trauma that he was forced to relive and be punished for day after day after day. You were his safety net, and so you felt as though he was allowed a little slip - especially after the incident with the man the night before.

"I'm sorry too," you began but Joel shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I pushed you to go out with me," you went on. "I didn't stop to think of how hard it might've been for you."

"I enjoyed yesterday," Joel told you, "Like you said to me on the street last night, that was the best time I've had in a very long time. I fucked it up."

"You didn't."

"I did." Joel nodded. "And I was hoping maybe you'd let me take you on another ride? I kind of want you to know.. everything."

You swallowed hard and then gave a little nod. "Let me just go get a light jacket."

When you turned to head back inside, you felt Joel pull you back with a light tug of your hand. You immediately saw the heightened vulnerability in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said. "For giving me a chance. Not just now, today, but in the coffee shop. You have no idea how much that means to me."

Okay, you officially weren't mad anymore. You wanted to cry for him. Not just Joel's words but the tone of his voice made your entire chest cavity feel heavy.

You leaned toward him and wrapped your arms around him, suspecting he hadn't had a real hug in awhile. For a long moment you just stood there, holding him against you with a hand on the back of his head.

Joel sighed and he allowed you to embrace him until you finally pulled back.

"I'll be right back."

"Okay." He answered.

You hurried inside and right away Jessie mouthed the words: did you kiss him? It eased some of the tension and made you laugh quietly as you shook your head and hurried toward the coat closet.

"I'll be back later on," you told her.

"Enjoy." She wiggled her eyebrows and bid you farewell before you joined Joel outside again.

You didn't ask him where you were going because, frankly, you didn't care. When you straddled the bike behind him, you felt content; at ease.

Joel started up the bike and you wrapped your arms around him and rested the side of your face against his back as you left the driveway. This time, you didn't look around like you had the night before. You closed your eyes, embraced the cool breeze and enjoyed the comfort of being so close to Joel. His scent was intoxicating.

You were sure you should have been a little bit afraid, but there wasn't even the smallest part of you that was. You felt completely free on the back of Joel's motorcycle.

He took a turn down a road that was leading up toward the the junkyard, but it wasn't quite that far. Joel slowed the bike down across the street from the lone structure on that end of the street - an old ice cream shop. Aside from the little brown and white building, there was nothing but trees that surrounded you.

A little neon sign on the window of the shop read, OPEN. A pumpkin sign hung in the window above it and the door was covered in fake spiderwebs.

"Why didn't you pull in?" You asked, suspecting Joel was planning on getting you ice cream.

He motioned up to the right corner of the shop beneath the roof. "You see that tiny camera right there?"

You squinted and gave a nod. "Yeah."

"That's the reason I'm not serving a life sentence."

Your eyebrows pressed together. "What?"

Joel turned his head partway around and you both got off the bike. When you were face to face you were able to give him your full attention.

"This is where it happened," he went on. "The incident. I had a flat tire on my truck after I left work one night. I broke down over here and I was changing it."

You had goosebumps already. You had wanted to hear what happened right from Joel's mouth but you would never have pressed the situation. Still, being here, right where it all happened, had you a bit shook.

"A car came rushing up behind me and I kind of thought they were going to offer to help at first," Joel explained. "But Johnny Watkins and Chase Hall hopped out, both drunk as hell, and started making demands. Everything from give me your wallet to, we're going to take your car."

"Holy shit, Joel."

"When I told them to get lost and they ended up ripping my spare tire off the car and Johnny hit me in the face." He ran a hand through his hair, "They beat the hell out of me and then demanded my keys but I threw the keys into the woods so they wouldn't get the satisfaction of it."

You wanted to hug him. How had this town branded *him* the monster?

"That pissed them off even more and at some point Johnny got his hands on a chain from the back of my pickup and started to strangle me with it while Chase recorded it on his phone. He tried to delete the footage later but the police were able to recover it. Between that and," he motioned to the building's camera again, "their security footage, they ruled I wasn't guilty of anything."

Joel went on. "When he had the chain around my neck I managed to back pedal and we fell down this little embankment over here." He motioned beyond the edge of the road to where the thick of the woods began to take shape. "Johnny broke his neck. Other than being a little banged up from them jumping me, I was fine."

"Joel, that's awful. All of it. I'm so, so sorry." You didn't have the correct words to say to him. You didn't know if there was such a thing.

"Even though they did all that to me, I've still had a hard time dealing with the fact that I was a factor in his death."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"It doesn't matter." Joel shook his head. "That night is on constant replay in my mind. And everyone in town hates me over it because he was a local celebrity around here. Everyone knew Johnny. And to them I'm just some schmuck who killed him."

Joel looked down the embankment and you carefully pulled him into a hug. When his arms wrapped around you, you held him tighter and spoke into his ear quietly.

"You're a great man, Joel," you told him. "And you deserve better than all of this."

"Yeah, well, you saw what happened at the bar last night."

"Well, the whole town could burn for all I care," you told him, glancing up at him now. "And I would light the match." You placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry the world has let you down so badly."

Joel swallowed hard. "I just wanted you to hear it directly from me."

"I never believed the bullshit stories."

His eyes danced across yours, roaming from the left to right and back again a few times. "Why did you offer me the free food that day in your shop? Why do you bother with me?"

"I just thought you looked like a man who needed a friend, or just somebody to talk to." Your eyes never left his. "There was a sadness in you that I couldn't ignore anymore - and I don't know how anyone could."

"I've had a hard time navigating life since that day." He sighed out loud again. "That's why I come in for coffee at night. I don't like to see a lot of people, and I don't think they like to see a lot of me."

"Well, sometimes all you need are a few good people," you told him. "And I don't plan on going anywhere so you better get used to me."

Joel gave half, closed-mouth grin and the mood grew just a tad lighter. "So, I didn't totally blow it last night?"

You shook your head. "You didn't blow it." You took the initiative and perched up onto your toes and kissed him on the cheek, letting your lips linger there just above his facial hair.

Joel's face often gave away the shock he was feeling. That was one thing you had begun to recognize about him. He swallowed hard again when you pulled away.

"I'm sorry," you said again.

"It's fine." He nodded toward the ice cream shop. "You want one since we're here?"

You didn't want to linger there any longer. Getting ice cream at that shop was too eerie of a thought. You were glad Joel had confided in you and told you all about what had happened, but the idea of having ice cream right there in that spot didn't feel right.

"How about if I treat you down at the Dairy Mart instead?" You offered.

Joel nodded again. "Thank you. I know this is a lot."

Staring up at him, you couldn't help it. You leaned in and felt relief when he reciprocated. Your lips met and it was like a release for both of you as your bodies relaxed against one another's.

Your stomach had that rush of excitement, the way it did you went on a rollercoaster. Joel's hand rested on your face and he kissed you a little harder before you parted, both breathing heavy.

He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. You let yours flicker open and closed them again when you pecked his lips once more.

Joel sighed contently and you pulled him back in for another hug. He held you tightly against him and let out a breath against your neck, sending goosebumps down your back.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"Yeah." He finally pulled back to face you and toyed with a strand of hair by your face. "You don't mind being seen in public with me? At the Dairy Mart or where ever."

"I want people to see me with you," you told him honestly. "I'm on your side."

Joel had that vulnerable look in his eyes again and he leaned back in to kiss you once more chastely on the lips.

You placed a hand on his cheek. "Come on. My treat."

"Only if you let me make you dinner."

A smile finally formed on your face again and you gave a little nod. "Deal."

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 5

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum

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6lostgirl6 · 9 months

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A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital.

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table.

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed.

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him.

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it.

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

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amomentsescape · 24 days

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hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile

Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)

Freddy Krueger

He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you

You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed

He loves basking in your warmth

But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees

He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong

But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream

He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims

And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story

It's cute but also so foreign to him

He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be

Michael Myers

He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation

It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time

He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you

But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused

He is more than capable of protecting himself

He doesn't need you getting involved

But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way

He just doesn't like you stepping in too much

His victims are his, and he refuses to share

But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire

Well... then that's fine he guesses

Jason Voorhees

You two are practically different sides to the same coin

He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine

But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met

You're practically the opposite

You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public

But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you

Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull

He just froze up in shock at this realization

He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy

He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long

But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him

Thomas Hewitt

Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him

Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal

That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him

But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief

If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!

They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life

Now he knows there's nothing to worry about

Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side

You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times

Bubba Sawyer

The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee

You're just like him!

You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba

Just like he does for you

It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind

You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you

With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times

He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary

So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis

But he won't try and control you

As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content

Brahms Heelshire

Oh...

He's flattered, don't get him wrong

The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him

And he loves that

But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires

That person is going to die?

Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath

It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there

And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him

Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him

Not to let this darkness take over

You provide, he protects

That's all he asks for

Norman Bates

And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him

Quiet, sweet, affectionate

He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman

But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all

He likes feeling protected by you

It lets him know that you really care about him

And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him

In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things

But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out

It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought

He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person

Who is he to judge though?

Billy Loomis

Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy

But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies

He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side

But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor

When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile

Billy just about lost it

He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself

But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful

He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this

But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more

You're nothing but perfect for him

Stu Macher

He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you

Not in a bad way by any means

If anything, he thinks it's sexy

And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too

You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed

At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn

You two make the ultimate power couple

But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning

And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job

Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be

No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element

But to be fair, he's in the same boat

No one would ever suspect him of such behavior

And that's probably why you two make the perfect team

Vincent Sinclair

He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do

Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe

This must be some sort of dream

You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay

Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?

He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again

But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently

Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary

If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do

He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it

Bo Sinclair

What a precious little thing

It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity

You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him

He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships

And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued

He remembers the first time you saved his ass

He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest

All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual

Bo was at a complete loss for words

He loves this side to you

He still likes to feel all bad and tough

And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence

But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you

585 notes · View notes

spookychick78 · 5 months

Text

Wanna Be Yours

Peepaw Myers X GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,558

⚠️Warnings: NSFW (18+, MDNI), choking, dubious consent, rough sex Michael himself is a warning, proofread but I'm human⚠️

Figured it was time I take on the old man. There's not nearly enough fanfiction out there for Peepaw. Is it over 6k? Yes. Is it self indulgent? Probably. Is it smut? Eventually.(there's some serious plot leading up) Needlessly romantic? Absolutely.

You stretched your arms out while simultaneously releasing yet another yawn. This was night two of staying up far later than planned, but insomnia had an unrelenting hold on you. Finally, it seemed it was losing its battle. Your eyes were heavy, your body the same as your yawns followed one after the other. A glass of water was all you needed, then you'd call it a night. You enjoyed the soft thud your feet made on the wooden floors, the usual pitter pattering muffled by a pair of fluffy socks you'd dawned. However, you were regretting your decision in not throwing on that pair of sweatpants before you came downstairs, it was rigidly cold, even indoors that night. Your oversized hoodie did little to protect you from the chill in the air.

You opened a cabinet, grabbed the first cup your hand landed on and brought it over to the filter in the sink. A sigh escaped you as you watched the little stream take it's sweet time filling it. Your foot had just begun to tap impatiently, it was so close to being filled, when a loud thump on the side door startled you. You dropped the cup, thankful that it landed in the sink, saving you from any mess. From where you stood, you couldn't see any movement out the little window on the door. You briefly regretted your decision not to turn on any lights as you stared, frozen in place waiting for any indication that someone was there. After a few moment's silence, the tightness in your chest dissipated and you let out the breath you'd been holding. Probably just a cat, you thought to yourself before you turned, foregoing your drink to retreat to the comfort of your room sooner rather than later. You hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs when yet another thud stopped you, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Your breath hitched and without thinking, you turned to scurry back downstairs, completely defenseless. In the shadows, you could just barely make out a figure. The only thing that was clearly visible, due to the faint gleam of moonlight, was his masked face. It was white, or it had been at some point and the eyes were two pitch black voids that seemed to be focused on the floor underneath his boots. As your eyes adjusted, you could make out a few more details, some that explained why he simply just stood there; he was injured. His hand, which was missing a couple of fingers and poorly bandaged, rested on his abdomen, clutching a wound that was still bleeding. His other hand seemed to be in just as bad a state, he'd broke the glass window with it to open the door from inside, rendering it bloodied as well. As he shakily lifted his head, those dark voids refocused their attention on you. You drew an uneasy breath, fearful of what he might do now that he'd discovered your presence. It felt like an eternity under his black gaze with only the sound of his uneven and ragged breath to break the dense silence that had settled in your kitchen, but finally something gave. He collapsed, you however stayed put for a moment more, unsure of what exactly you should do. The fact that he had a mask on wasn't entirely strange, it was Halloween after all, but he did break into your house. Perhaps he needed help? You could only hope that was his intention and he hadn't moved a muscle since he'd fallen, so with immense hesitation, you approached him. 'Intimidating' described him perfectly, even as he lay unconscious and face first on the ground. He wasn't a small man, not in the slightest. He must have been well over six feet tall from what you surmised, which meant he wouldn't be easy to move, but if you wanted to inspect his wounds you'd have to find a way. You tentatively placed a hand on his back, because if you were being honest, you weren't quite sure if he was even alive. He was, the soft whistle of breath through that mask of his and the subtle way his back rose and fell which each weak one he took confirmed that much.

"Fuck," you whispered as you contemplated how exactly you were going to turn him over, "you're not gonna make this easy on me, are you?"

You put all your strength into it and, after dropping him a few times, you managed to flip him over, "Sorry," you muttered after he'd landed on his back harder than expected.

You resisted the urge to study the face hidden behind the mask and focused your attention on his injuries, which were worse than you'd previously thought. Blood had turned the blue cloth he wore blacker than the eyes of his mask. You carefully pulled some of the fabric back to discover it was bullets than had torn through him. You winced at the sight, it wasn't something you'd be able to help much with, but you intended to do your best after at least calling for an ambulance. With that thought in mind, you stood to retrieve the first aid kit you never thought you'd have a use for and your cellphone. You wondered if he'd disappear while you had your back turned, half hoping he was simply a figment of your tired imagination, but when you returned he was still there and real as ever. You quickly dialed the emergency line, deciding to leave out the part that painted him as an intruder. You were still intent on not assuming the worst and he needed help, or so you thought. Once you hung up, you knelt down beside him again and carefully unzipped the coveralls he wore. You cursed yourself for blushing at the sight of his bare chest. He was older, the small patch of gray hair made that clear, but he didn't lack for definition despite his age. He was unreasonably built, something you fought to ignore but ultimately failed, hence the heat that had risen to your face. You gently pressed the rag to his wound and heard his breath falter at the sudden pressure, but he remained still as you cleaned him. You couldn't quite tell if he was awake, it didn't seem to matter how intently you studied those black holes, you couldn't see anything behind them to determine consciousness. But he was conscious and beyond disturbed at the predicament he found himself in, so much so that he hadn't a clue of what to do other than observe.

After you set the rag down, that mask had your full attention. The more you studied it, the more intrigued you became. It looked familiar, but you couldn't quite figure out why. You searched silently for a reason to justify what you were about to do as your hand moved closer to its edge. It would be easier for him to breathe without it on, you thought to yourself as your fingers grazed the rubber, but the moment you started to pull on it, his hand flew up to grab yours. He sat up, but doubled over as soon as he did and his grip on your wrist tightened.

"No- I'm sorry. Don't move, okay? You're hurt," you said, stumbling over your words as he flinched away from your other hand that went to his shoulder to steady him, "I just thought it'd be easier to breathe without it."

Michael's consciousness was an effort to keep, but he was aware enough to have heard what you said and it left him more than confused. The house had been so dark, he assumed it was empty, a safe place for him to rest while he waited for his strength to return. He didn't expect to find you standing there and when he did he had every intention to slaughter you, but the bullets Laurie had put in him had stripped him of that opportunity. His head whipped around for his knife while you watched, assuming he was just confused and unaware of where exactly he'd passed out.

"An ambulance should be here soon. I got you cleaned up, but you're gonna need more help than I can offer," you said, forcing his attention back to you, "you should rest though, until they get here."

Without hesitation, he shot up, entirely ignoring your suggestion and the throbbing pain in his abdomen, "Whoa, hey, what are you doing?"

Your words had little effect on him, which you soon learned as you watched him stride towards the door he'd entered from. You quickly followed behind, baffling him further. Usually, it was him who did the chasing.

"You can wait here, you don't have to-"

Naive, he thought to himself. Naive and completely out of your depth is what he made of you, but perhaps that kindness you'd shown a monster like himself was exactly what had saved your life, for now at least. He had no choice but to leave you, he'd had more than enough run ins with the authorities for one Halloween night and he knew they'd arrive any minute. He found his knife by the door and bent down to retrieve it, which was what stopped any further words from leaving your mouth. Your abrupt silence gave him pause and he turned his head slightly to find the horror of realization painted on your face. Your eyes were focused on the blade in his hand that had been decorated in red. The moonlight allowed its gleam to inform you that it was no prop, it was as real as your own blood that had run cold in your veins. It was your breath that was shaky now.

"Who are you?" You whispered.

He left you without an answer and that was weeks ago. Wondering was exactly what Michael wanted you to do and unbeknownst to you, you played along so nicely. He hadn't gone far, in fact he'd returned several times to catch you immersing yourself in his story. The night he met you, you never slept. You sat in bed with a blanked wrapped tightly around you as you listened to the details of what the man who'd broken into your home had done, of what he was. The answers you received from headlines only raised more confusion within yourself, because your name wasn't on his long list of victims. He spared you and that fact had you torn. Part of you wanted to let it go, be grateful that the shadow of death had so kindly passed over you, but there was another part that desperately wanted to know why. That part of you brought on more questions, but ones about yourself, more specifically, your own self preservation, because you wanted him to return. Sure, maybe it was simply time that was to blame, you'd called the authorities and he was a killer. He had to flee to avoid capture, but they still hadn't gotten him, he was still loose and he hadn't come back to finish you off. From what you'd learned, no one crossed Michael Myers' path and lived to tell the tale, you were alone in that. You were the first he'd left completely unscathed and unattended to, or so you thought. But Michael hadn't left you alone, not at all. He kept quite a close eye on you and with questions of his own, because in leaving you alive to wonder, he'd confused himself. The more he studied you, the worse it got. At first, it was a game, the same one he always played. The kill was always more satisfying when he had a bit of history on the subject at hand, but learning about you had become problematic. He never waited this long to strike, but you had made him hesitate. Somehow, you'd gotten to him and he couldn't seem to rid himself of the memory of you touching him. Perhaps it was because no one had before, not so gently. They'd certainly never apologized for hurting him as you had when you tended to his wounds. You cared about his well-being, it mattered to you that night. Enough so that you went out of your way to save him. He would have survived without your assistance, but it was the thought that counted, you thought about him in a way that no one ever had before. Now, you searched for him, unabashedly. He knew you weren't just gazing out of your window for the sake of it, you wanted to find him. He wondered if you a had a sixth sense, because he was always there, hidden in the shadows your eyes wandered to after the street lights turned on. You'd even begun to leave it open once you'd gone to bed, something that really piqued his curiosity. What would you do if he found his way in, what would you do if he gave you what you wanted and showed himself? Would you run or would he find himself in a situation in which he was the one who was out of his depth? Michael had gone his entire adult life without worrying about such things and he hated that finally, he'd been caught in such a trap. He wanted to hate you for it, but when you appeared in your window again and locked eyes with him in the darkness without even knowing it, he couldn't. He wanted to find one, just one single flaw that he could latch onto, but he couldn't and it ate at him. You were perfect, infuriatingly so. The way you moved haunted him in the most unexpected of ways and you were so young, so full of life that he should have wanted to drain, but death was so far removed from what he wanted to give you. His brow furrowed underneath his tattered mask as he contemplated it, because in truth, he hadn't a clue what exactly it was he wanted from you, he just knew it was you that he wanted and it was driving him to madness, to discomfort he'd never felt in all his life.

You disappeared from his view, retreating into shadows yourself once you decided he wasn't there. That was when he began to move unconsciously towards the door he'd entered through before. His heart pounded within his chest as he drew closer, unsure of what he would do once he was face to face with you again, but he needed to be, there was no question about that any longer. More than that, he needed to know what you would do, if you were different from the rest and if you could give him rest from the turmoil you'd caused within his mind, body and if he had one, soul. The house was dark, just as it had been the first time he arrived, only now, the door was unlocked. An invitation, he thought to himself with further intrigue. You did want him there, you must have, because who in their right mind left their house open for entry with a killer on the loose? He ought to teach you a lesson, but then again, no one was more of a threat than he was and he didn't intend to leave you unattended. If you wanted to leave your doors unlocked, so be it, but he would be your only visitor if he got his way and really, didn't he always?

His hand glided along the kitchen counter as he steadily made his way to the stairs, pausing at the bottom to study the stream of light that bathed the blackened hallway above in an eerie orange glow. His head tilted when it went out, leaving you entrapped in darkness. The sixth sense he suspected you had only became more prominent, he breathed easier without light to touch him and you had turned it off. Further invitation, of course, so he took the first step, then another. The faint creak of the wooden boards didn't seem to alert you to his presence, the light stayed absent and he appeared in your doorway to find you settled in bed. Sleep hadn't found you yet, but he had and you stirred when you felt the unease brought about by an unknown gaze lingering on your body. At first, the shadows all but consumed him, then his figure became clearly visible. Just an outline, tall and broad, but you recognized him.

Slowly, you propped yourself up with eyes that were wide open. You wanted this, but now he was here and you hadn't a clue of what to do, or what he would do. Words escaped you, but you didn't fear his silence this time nor the deafening hum that sat heavily between the two of you. It was energy, an unspoken desire to be near to each other was what it was, you knew that now without a doubt in your mind. He'd come back, just as you hoped he would, but for what purpose and why was it you had wanted him to?

Your legs slid off the side of the bed until your bare toes met the cold wooden floor below. He'd yet to move, so you tested the limits of what he would allow. His eyes, unseen, studied those carefully made movements closely. There was no distance to dull your actions anymore and he soaked each one in as he watched you stand, fascinated. He didn't have to hear it to know your heart was racing within your much smaller frame, you were prey approaching a predator, but it wasn't fear he found in your curious eyes, it was awe. As if he was just as unreal to you as you were him. His head lowered with his gaze, because now you truly were face to face. Your neck in turn craned up as you listened to that familiar whistle of breath through his mask.

"Michael," you whispered up at him.

He rushed forward so abruptly you didn't even have time to scream. He backed you against the wall, but didn't touch you, not right away. He simply stood there, shoulders heaving, head down in front of you. His breath was uneven and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides as if it was an arduous struggle to withhold himself.

But from what? You thought as you stood there silently searching for the answer you'd clearly die to retrieve. He didn't have his knife, at least not within his grasp or reach. His hands were his only weapons and he hadn't even used those on you, not in the way you had expected. Your hands remained at your side, unmoving and his gaze dipped to one. His breath evened as he studied it contemplatively, his shoulders stilled and he seemed puzzled, or so you assumed. Hesitantly, he reached for one. His fingers grazed your skin, slowly grappling for more purchase. Finally, he hooked one of them with yours and brought it to the other. He brought it up and you watched, confused as he traced the lines on your palm that were visible to him in the moonlight. The cool glow even allowed you to catch a glimpse of those eyes you'd searched for the last time he was in your home. One was an eerie, milky white, left without sight from one of the many wounds he'd gathered throughout the years. The other was the lightest of blue, icy in color, but there was warmth hidden somewhere inside that fought through as he allowed himself to fall prey to your touch once more. It was his choice this time, he was very aware as he pressed his palm to yours. Delicate and dangerous were the only two words that came to Michael's mind, because though you couldn't overpower him physically, he felt weakened in ways more damning than bodily wounds.

"Why are you here?"

Your whispered words did little to distract him from the dilemma he held in his hands. If anything, he should have been asking you that question. Why were you stillhere, allowing him to dive further into obsession, destroying everything he knew to be true about himself with just the tips of your fingers? It was cruel and unjust that someone like yourself, someone so small and seemingly insignificant held such power over him. It was infuriating, maddening and he wondered if you knew as his eyes met yours only to melt further. You didn't look away, no, instead you matched his intensity with brows that were furrowed in curiosity. That uncomfortable pounding in his chest returned and what he could only assume was rage forced his breath to quicken again, but then you intertwined your fingers with his, which made everything stop all at once.

"Are you going to kill me?"

The answer to that question was what frightened him most. Without warning, he ripped his hand from yours along with his gaze and turned to disappear down the hallway. It was an unforgivable mistake on his part to return to you, that much was certain, because no, he wasn't going to kill you. In fact, the encounter hadn't given him a single answer as to what he wanted with you, it only worsened his confusion and brought about doubt of himself. Perhaps he did have a weakness, a living, breathing one. He needed to escape it, kill whatever it was inside of him that betrayed him so wickedly. Your footsteps behind him made him grit his teeth as he strode through the door he'd left open to leave you to the night, but your hand found his wrist before he could vanish.

"Wait," you demanded.

The sudden and unwelcome contact forced his instinct back to the surface and before you could blink, you were forced back into your kitchen with a hand around your neck. The wind was knocked out of you when your back hit the counter and you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid that perhaps you'd finally crossed that thin line you'd been treading on since the moment you met him, but his grip didn't tighten. He watched you brace yourself and in turn, crumbled at the sight. Prey, he thought to himself, you were supposed to look just as you were with his hand around your throat. You were supposed to be frightened, you were supposed to beg for your life and yet, when your trembling hands met his wrist, it was the last thing he wanted you to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you beg, he did, but he wasn't quite sure what for as he had you pinned with his own body pressed against you. He'd seen this dance before, but it wasn't one he ever bothered to learn. Human touch such as this for Michael only ended death, he'd never been forced to consider any other use for his hands. He thought back to his own worries earlier that night and realized he was indeed out of his depth, just as he was afraid he would be. He had you exactly where he wanted you, but what now? His head canted to the side as he watched your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Your eyes were still glued shut, anticipating death, but death had a different idea. The safety of darkness still surrounded the two of you and with your eyes refusing to open, Michael lifted his mask up. You felt his fingers brush your jaw and inch their way into your hair to hold the back of you head, then you felt something else. A kiss was what he gave you, gentle and inexperienced, but in his softness you received the answer you'd searched so diligently for. He lingered there for a moment, stunned by his own actions and more so when you returned them. You kept your hands on his wrist and kept them still, aware that this was his limit, this was all he could handle for the time being, but you guided him in your wordless response. Your lips pressed firmer against him, you moved slowly, but deepened it with each press. His hand began to tangle in your locks, clenching as his mind screamed for release, for violence. It was an effort to fight off those instincts, but he did so valiantly just for a few more moments of this, of softness, of you. You carefully lifted your hand to place it over his, which still rested at the back of your head, fingers knitted tightly in your hair. He relented, just slightly, but when you let out that soft sigh, it was too much. It was too intimate and just like that, his lips left you as did his hand. When you opened your eyes you were alone, as if his touch had simply been a dream all along. The only evidence of reality was the door, which he'd left ajar to leave you with nothing but the sound of wind to fill his absence.

Questions were what he'd left the first time, but now, it was frustration that consumed you in his wake. You'd gotten an answer, in a sense. He didn't want to kill you, he wanted you and you kept it safely hidden within the walls of your pericardium that he wasn't alone in his desire. He left you wanting, wishing and waiting for a killer to return and finish what he'd started, for him to claim you as his own. The mere thought had you unraveling, because what on earth was wrong with you? Why had you allowed such a thing to happen in the first place? Why did you kiss him? More importantly, why did you love every second of it? His lack of experience hadn't dulled the sensations he forced upon you, if anything it enhanced them. Haddonfield's reaper had chosen you and spared you the scythe for a kiss, one you couldn't seem to stop from popping into your mind at the most inconvenient times. It haunted you and it stripped you of each and every one of the morals you thought you'd had, based on one simple fact; you wanted more. However, this time months passed and you were forced to find ways to pluck him from your mind, which meant when a coworker called you up to ask if you'd like to go to dinner, you said yes. Of course, putting an end to the fantasy of Michael wasn't quite as simple as it sounded. Dinner was spent with your head on a swivel, half paranoid he'd find you and be less than pleased, half hoping he would and save you from the drab conversation you'd allowed yourself to endure for the sake of distraction. You were right to think he'd be watching and safe to say 'less than pleased' was an understatement. Jealousy was something Michael wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. In fact, he was convinced he really was starting to hate you for bringing so many emotions he didn't understand to the surface. Torture was clearly what you intended to put him through, but that was something he was well versed in and as he watched you kiss your date goodnight, he made a decision. You were indeed going to learn your lesson and if it ended in death, well, that would be your price for causing him such agony, because he didn't expect to behave gently after watching someone else's hands, someone else's lips touch what was his.

You kept your smile in place as you politely waved goodbye, but once the taillights disappeared you allowed it to fall with a groan and quickly wiped your mouth. Your date's enthusiasm for you was beyond unreciprocated, but you'd play the part well, perhaps too well. Hopefully he wouldn't call, you thought to yourself as you strolled up the walkway to your front door. You let out a sigh when you realized you'd forgotten to leave the porch light on and you had about a million keys to sift through in total darkness, of course. To make an already annoying night worse, you tripped. You managed to catch yourself, but the keys hadn't been so lucky. You bent down to retrieve them, cursing under your breath as you stood back up. You fumbled with them a moment more before finally pushing the key into the lock, but that was about as far as you got. You hadn't even heard footsteps to alert you to his presence, but suddenly, you found yourself pushed face first against the door and before you could let out a scream, a hand covered your mouth. It was familiar, the missing fingers were a dead give away. His other went to yours and forced you to turn the key. Why he'd even bothered unlocking it was a mystery, because he promptly turned you around and threw you over his shoulder before he broke the door open with brute force. Struggling was no use, he had a vice grip on your hips as he strode through the threshold with purposeful steps only to drop you on the counter.

"What the hell is your deal with me?" You spat out before you could stop yourself.

But before you even had time to regret your choice in tone, his hand was around your neck. That gentle grip he once had was lost and replaced with a menacing one that took your breath away. Your hands wrapped around his wrist with rage of your own at this cat and mouse game he was playing with you.

"M-Michael," you stuttered out with a pained expression, "whatever you're gonna do, just do it already."

You worried you'd come to regret that statement when he pushed you back on the cool marble with such force it made your head spin. His hand momentarily abandoned it's hold on you and you pushed yourself up just slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The blue you'd once seen in his left one had turned dark, his pupil was overblown to erase any color, but it wasn't death you saw in that eerie gleam. Far from it. A different instinct had taken over and he knew exactly what he wanted to do to you. He quickly reached behind you and brandished a knife from the block on your counter. His movement's were hurried, frantic even as he tugged you forward by your hips so his waist rested between your legs. Then, he raised the knife up and you braced yourself. You must have mistaken that darkness in his eyes, it must have been bloodlust, you thought to yourself, but when he plunged it down it wasn't your flesh that tore. He'd taken it to your jeans, cutting them just enough so that when he tossed the knife behind you and grabbed each side of the fabric with his hands, he was able to rip them clean off of you. He didn't need the blade to remove the rest and now you were almost entirely exposed to him, save the top you silently resented him for destroying next. It looked expensive, Michael thought with a smirk behind his mask, but it looked much better torn to pieces. He was almost as unkind to his own clothes, he tugged the zipper of his coveralls down with such force the metal came loose and fell to the floor, leaving him free of any further confinement. You didn't even have time to glance down before he tossed on of your legs over his shoulder, pushed the other one to the side and plunged into you so deeply you feared you'd be ripped in two, just like your jeans. He allowed you no time to adjust, or catch your breath before he set an inhuman pace, one arm wrapped tightly around the leg over his shoulder and the other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to draw blood with his fingernails. He was silent, frighteningly so, while you failed to do the same. In fact, it seemed he was hell bent on making you scream, because once he found one particular spot that made your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open, he never left it. He managed to hit it each and every time he pushed into you and he relished in those gasps that quickly turned to wanton cries. Pain mingled with pleasure in a dizzying manner and you tried desperately to reach for him, to find anything to steady yourself on, but it was useless. He wanted to see you struggle and you were doing it perfectly, but if you wanted stability, he'd allow some. He stopped abruptly, bottoming out and drawing a pitiful whine from your open mouth so he could hook his fingers over your bottom teeth. With his thumb under your chin and his index and middle lodged in your mouth, he pulled you up by your jaw, the pain dulled by the overwhelming pleasure he'd pummeled your nearly limp body with. He brought you close, your half lidded eyes struggled to stay open as he lifted the bottom half of his mask up with his other hand and pressed his lips to your ear.

"Mine," he growled, low and harshly.

His breath fell hot over your bare neck, causing the ache between your legs to peak, begging for him to continue, but instead of giving you what you wanted right away, he pulled back and left you empty to readjust his mask. You whined, reaching for him before he grabbed your shoulders and turned you. He bent you over the counter and forced himself back inside of you while his hand snaked around your throat. He lifted you back up so that your back was pressed hard against his chest and the mouth of his mask was back at your ear.

"Say it," he breathed as he thrusted forward, slow but forceful.

You'd barely registered that he'd spoken the first time and now, with him buried so deeply inside of you, your cognizance was long gone. Each time he moved he seemed to go deeper, fully aware of the torture he was delivering in forcing you to hang on the edge of your orgasm. He could feel your body tensing around him, he knew you were dangerously close. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you struggled to form the response he desired.

"Yours," you whispered, but that didn't seem to satisfy him.

He thrusted harder, driving your body upwards. When your hand went to steady yourself on the counter, he grabbed it and held it tightly behind your back while the other squeezed your neck until you felt light as air. He grit his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm for the sake of punishing you further.

"Say it," he repeated with malice.

You were right there, so close to release that your mouth simply couldn't stay shut, but it wasn't breath you were so desperate for. You held it, brows furrowed in a mix of pain and pleasure so brutal you weren't entirely sure you'd survive another thrust. You felt his teeth at your neck, biting down as he let out a groan. It appeared he was in torment too, desperate in his own right to find release inside of you. His voice had driven you to madness, but those breathy moans he couldn't seem to hold in any longer were what sent you over the edge and that only made his struggle to maintain control harder. Your body pulsed so deliciously around him. You were tight enough to begin with, but now? It was too much and his head dipped lower in the crook of your neck to nip at your shoulder as his hips began to tremble from the exerted effort to keep his pace controlled. Not yet, not until he heard you say it.

"Michael," you gasped with your eyes wide open, though between the lack of oxygen and the intensity of pleasure, all you saw was white, "I'm yours, all yours. I'm yours."

Your whispered promises never stopped, they fell from your lips like little prayers and they had him spiraling. His ragged breath and the way each of his hands gripped you tighter and tighter should have broken you, but you clung to what little air he allowed for more of him. He'd long abandoned that slow, meticulous pace to chase his own high with a vengeance. His hand left your wrist and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against him when he found release. He bent forward, panting underneath his mask as he pressed you against the marble countertop.

"Yours," he heard you continue whispering and he loosened his grip on your neck.

He stayed like that for awhile, still buried deep within you and baffled by the entire ordeal, but you were so warm. No part of him wanted to separate from you or leave those little whispers behind. You felt his thumb absentmindedly brushing circles over your jaw and you supposed that must have been what brought you back to total consciousness, but you stayed still, afraid that if you moved he'd leave. His sudden softness was unexpected given the brutality he'd just displayed, but you found yourself melting into it. Between the exhaustion that had settled into your bones and the delirium that filled your head, those rough, calloused hands of his were exactly what you needed to bring you back down to earth with grace. He too was warm and you couldn't help but press your cheek into his palm, which caused his brow to furrow behind his mask. When his head withdrew from the crook of your neck, you let out a weak moan in protest, but he continued his departure from you in silence.

"Michael," he heard you mutter softly as he struggled through his own haze to gather himself.

He paused to observe your wrecked state. You still hadn't moved a muscle and he wasn't entirely sure you could even if you wanted to. He'd annihilated you, had you for his own and he should leave now. Right?

"Please don't leave me," you whispered.

You didn't expect him to oblige your simple request, you knew he'd already far surpassed his limits. You were killing him, he thought to himself and in such a strange way. It was instinct you'd stolen along with something else he supposed he did have after all, because as he watched you try and fail to push yourself up, it skipped a beat. He was aware he could blame it on age or his usual pent up fury, but he knew that would be a lie. It was you. You were both a curse and a cure to the quietus that possessed him, a plague upon the heart he once thought had lost it's rhythm to violence. It was mercy you'd infected him with when you touched him, when you healed him and mercy was something so foreign to Michael, but for you, he supposed he could try to give you his own version. You hadn't the energy to even feel surprise when he took you into his arms, but you had just enough left to smile as you rested your cheek against his chest. Perhaps he'd be gone when you woke or maybe he'd stay. Either way, you were Michael's. Or was it the other way around?

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tomriddleslovergirl · 1 year

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What Stops Slashers From Hurting/Killing You

Pairings: Platonic!Michael Myers x reader, romantic!Billy and Stu, romantic!Carrie White

Michael Myers:

The only thing that can stop Michael from killing someone is them being crazy. Looking into your eyes and seeing just that is what’ll stop him.

Your relationship will probably be like Michael and Corey’s. Helping him find people to kill and him protecting you from danger.

He’d probably take the fucked up father figure route.

Ghostface (Billy and Stu):

The first thing they noticed about you was your looks and Stu was instantly hooked. He’d try to flirt with you, but that backfires because you keep bringing up his girlfriend. Cue Tatum getting murdered. (rip☠️)

Billy didn’t care all that much about the fact that you were hot. He just wanted to get revenge for his mom. Then, Stu brought up making a sequel. Letting you live this time, and then killing you in the second movie. That may have gotten him interested.

They try to find more info on you to make sure you’re final girl material. (If you’re a virgin and all that stuff).

Soon, the fucked up shit starts to happen not only to Sidney, but you too. You’ll be their perfect final girl.

Carrie White:

You not bullying her and actually giving her respect is what draws her to you at first. Every girl and boy at this school bullied her, and you standing up for her even though you could be bullied just makes her heart beat so fast.

So many light bulbs have shattered just from her thinking about you.

She’d try to tell you not to hang around her, and you don’t, respecting her wishes. Yet, you still stand up for her when she gets bullied.

Soon she finds herself following you around.

During the prom, Carrie tries looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found.

When her date dies, she mentally breaks, killing everyone in the school and then her mom.

She goes to your house crying, just wanting to be held by you.

Ignoring all the blood, you take care of her. Letting her use the washroom to get cleaned up, lending her some of your clothes, and just doing whatever you can to help her.

She has another breakdown realizing she would’ve killed you if you hadn’t decided to skip out on prom, her mom’s words about her being a monster repeating in her head.

Yet, you’re there for her, just like you always have been.

#carrie white x reader #Carrie 1976 #Carrie 1976 x reader #Stu matcher x reader #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #scream 1996 #scream 1996 x reader #michael myers x reader #Michael Myers #Michael Myers x reader #Halloween x reader #fem reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader

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im-his-druidess · 17 days

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Hi! I just read your fic with the reader being an omega and michael is an alpha, and i just wanted to say I LOVED THAT CONCEPT!!! Is there anyway you could make more of omega!reader x alpha!rz!michael 🙏😭 or like some head cannons? Anything really. I just need more of him being an alpha🙏🥹

Omg thank you so much! And absolutely! The A/B/O AU is one of my favorites so I'm always happy to talk about it 🥰

You also can't really go on normal dates or show him off to your few friends. Although you do sometimes spot him amidst the trees when you are at work, watching him disappear into the shadows in a way that you knew you only saw him because he wanted you to, and can feel eyes on you the entire way home.

Being the Omega to The Shape is both a blessing and a curse. For one he is a notorious killer and he also views the world completely different than what's considered "normal".

Most of the time, especially the beginning of your relationship, you had to explain what his instincts are making him do and how to deal with his Alpha impulses.

Michael Myers always keeps an eye out for his Omega. No matter if it's at the grocery store, work, a restaurant, or even something as mundane as washing your car. He is always watching. It's his own way of protecting you.

Also he's just naturally curious about you and he's making up for lost time from when he was locked away. Using his new freedom to stalk his lovely little Omega and find out all he can.

He'll constantly scent you. Dragging you to his body and forcing you to stand still as he sniffs at you, growling lightly at all the lingering "other" smells before placing his scent all over you again.

Will often lead to him dragging you to the nearest flat surface to fuck you, his possessiveness rearing it's head, and you have to make sure to stay submissive just so you won't agitate him further.

He makes nests when, on the rare occasion, you are away and he doesn't follow you. Will tear apart your house to make one to his liking and you end up buying an ungodly amount of spare blankets and pillows for those times.

Leaves plenty of marks on you, that you desperately try to cover up in case someone starts asking questions, and he will be immediately turned on if you try to mark him up as well.

Of course, he'll also assume that this is you trying to dominate him. Leads to him pinning you down and forcing you to submit.

Will let out a raspy quiet purr of approval when you lay with him in his nest.

#Michael Myers #Halloween #halloween franchise #rz!michael myers #rz!halloween #michael myers x reader #halloween headcanons #Halloween 2007 #halloween 2007 x reader #rz michael myers x reader #Tyler Mane #tyler mane x reader #slashers #slashers x reader #slasher headcanons #the cryptid answers

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odocoiileus · 2 months

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Hiii! Can I ask for general headcanons about relationship with RZ Michael? And what the reader should do for him to not kill them in the first place?

pairings: rz! michael myers x gn! reader

warnings: mentions of murder, blood/gore, reader develops Stockholm syndrome if you squint, reader has nightmares (fueled by michael), michaels kind of an ass

a/n: sure! thanks for the ask🫶

let's start off in the beginning - you running from from this huge goliath of a man, fighting for your life.

rz michael is huge and extremely strong, obviously brutal, too. so rightfully, you're terrified.

I think the best ways to survive would be : A. fight until you can't anymore, prove your strength in a way - or B. try your best to empathize with him.

either way, if you survive, you're extremely lucky. sort of. michael won't simply let you go after surviving him, you're stuck with him now.

obviously it will take you a very long time to get the slightest bit comfortable around him, and vice versa. deep down, you know what he's capable of, and you never feel truly 100% safe.

Michael has never had a good example of what love should be like. let's not sugarcoat it, he's far from perfect as a romantic partner.

I can see him being very demanding (silently), and he has no care for your belongings or surroundings. so don't be surprised if he breaks stuff or ruins your shiny wooden floors or white carpet with blood. he'll just stare at you.

you can try to show him some humanity by cooking him meals, forcing him to shower showering with him, washing his clothes. it's foreign to him - a feral animal being forced into domesticity.

it'll be a verrryy long process, and it isn't linear.

even when he softens a bit, when he's just a bit more considerate — when he's laying in bed beside you, knife discarded on your bedside table and he's shown a sense of protectiveness over you --

you still have nightmares. who wouldn't? michael may show that he's protective (or possessive..you can't tell at this point) over you, but he's still a murderer. you know you're still at risk.

by no means will your relationship with him be perfect, but you relish in the soft moments you have with him.

braiding his hair, showering with him, laying with him (or on him, I mean, you could use him as a pillow), and cuddling.

you'll even put on some music you think he'll like: kiss, iron maiden, megadeth, etc.

it makes you feel like you're in a regular relationship, for just a moment.

despite your fears of being stabbed in your sleep or something wild like that, you soon find yourself not wanting to leave.

michael's a wild animal, and you're the one that's decided to put your life at risk by trying to domesticate him and show him love.

I do imagine he'd murder someone for you if you were ever in a situation where someone tried to hurt you,,,or tried to steal your attention away from him - maybe they were being just a bit too nosy, too curious about the stains in your floor, wondering why you never left the house.

you'll soon forget what loneliness is, anyway. you have Michael — a huge, silent giant who proves to be gentle with only you.

#odocoiileus #odofics #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher community #rz michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #michael myers #michael myers x reader

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scarofthewind · 6 months

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Slashers x Reader || Stuck (NSFW)

A/N: HOwdy bitch! This is a cheesy, scenario prompt where the reader (or slasher) gets stuck and then fuck.

Warnings: Dub!con, teasing, fingering, oral, non!protection, female pronouns, blah blah blah

Michael Myers: Under the bed

"Damnitt," you hissed as one of the beams from under the bed came down on your lower back, keeping you pinned in your spot. All you were trying to do was grab a bag of winter clothes that was squished towards the back under your bed and now you were stuck, left to fight off dust bunnies alone. "Michael?" You called, heaving a sigh as you tried moving again but to no avail. You couldn't reach the bar with your arms due to the tight space; you were stuck.

"Michael!" You shouted, finally hearing his loud footsteps ascending the stairs.

"What do you w-" Michael snapped his mouth shut, eyes growing wide as he watched your lower half squirm as you tried to get out form under the bed.

"The bar is stuck and I can't get out. Lift the bed." You said, watching his feet cross the floor until he was behind you out of sight. For a moment, nothing happened and you grew irritated but silently reminded yourself who you were dealing with and took a deep breath. "Don't rip them please." With those simple words, you felt large hands cup your ass, reaching to the hem of your pants and pulling them down with your panties as well.

You felt his fingers trace over your skin, creating goosbumps in their wake. His hands spread your thighs apart and you heard him groan, your face heating up at the noise. Michael was practically foaming at the mouth by the time he slipped a finger into your cunt. His eyes never left your lower lips and he added another finger just a few seconds later, feeling the way your walls tightened around his digits. "Did you plan this?" He asked, his thumb moving down to circle your clit.

"You think I want to be under here?" You snapped, biting back a moan as he rocked his fingers into you. Michael chuckled at your attitude and curled his fingers, grinding them against your g-spot and watching your thighs begin to tremble.

"Hurry up and cum so I can rescue you and claim my reward," Michael grunted, his cock straining against his jeans and the smell of your excitement making his mind go numb. Maybe he would just fuck you like this.

William Schenk/Emmerson: Under the car

"Will?" You called, setting your bag down and taking your shoes off. Your house was quiet other than the loud banging from in the garage, a sign you knew would lead you to your fiancé. "How long have you been out here?" You asked as you found him under the old car you said would be better used as scrap metal than trying to fix.

"Hey babe," he replied, his hand coming out to grab a wrench of some kind before he went back to clanking away. "About two hours or so. I'll be done in a minute." William was so focused on fixing a stubborn part of the vehicle that he didn't even realize how the car jack had fallen. Five minutes later when he finally decided to call it quits, he realized the situation. "Shit," he grunted, yelling out for you.

"Are you okay?" You called as you came back into the garage, watching as he was trying to get out from under the car.

"I'm fine, the fucking jack fell again," he sighed.

"I told you to get a new one last week!" You nagged at him before you made your way closer to him. You weren't sure if it was the way he was sweaty and covered in grease or the bubbling arousal in your system but you had an evil idea. With light fingers, you traced your fiancés cock through his jeans, watching him twitch at the feeling.

"What are you doing?" William asked, curious to see where your mind was at, although he had a feeling he already knew.

"I like you like this," you cooed, watching his cock harden in his jeans at your constant petting. You gently undid the button and zipper before reaching past his boxers and pulling his erection out. You heard him suck in a breath as the cold air hit his shaft.

"Dirty fucking girl," he groaned, wishing he could watch you in this moment. The moment your lips and tongue met the tip of his cock, he was a mess. William had to grip the wrench in his hands in order not to grab pieces of the car that were already falling apart. He closed his dark eyes and just felt your mouth around him; warm and wet like your perfect cunt that he loves so much.

When he felt you pull off his cock completely he was frozen in waiting. He could hear a zipper and a thud of clothes before he felt your hand circling his base. "Let me out baby," he warned, his patience growing thinner by the moment.

With a soft laugh, you pressed the tip of his cock to your cunt and slowly sank down with a 'no', on your lips.

#horror x reader #slasher imagines #horror imagines #michael myers #william schenk x reader #william emmerson x reader #michael myers x reader

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slasherstories123 · 1 year

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I was wondering if you could do Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and Michael Myers with a s/o who always knows when and where someone is stalking them or around them, like they can pinpoint exactly where they are. sorry if that's weird but I kind of have the same thing and if you could I'd be very happy 😁

Slashers with a S/O who can predict who’s around them

Paring: Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and Michael Myers x GN! Reader

Tagslist: Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @bunnysenpai31 @sadskies @slasherscrybaby @bl-rrryface @l0sercat @cherry-lovr @emychan @anim3l0v3r

Jason Voorhees

At first he wondered how you could locate where he was at before you two met

Each time you looked in his direction he’d have to change into a new hiding spot since you can spot him quickly

But once you two got together he realized that it could be a good thing since he can’t catch all of the victims before they catch you

I mean he’ll try but since you can pinpoint where people are he knows that you can handle yourself if it came to danger.

Now if it came to someone stalking them he’s quick to hunt them down since stalking isn’t allowed in the forested

Whenever you tell him that someone’s in the camp he’s happy on the inside knowing that he dosen’t have to search the whole camp to see if there’s more than one person

Thomas Hewitt

The friends that you had didn’t believe the fact that you can know when someone’s close but they didn’t believe you, now look at them dead🧍🏾‍♀️

It would be a relief for the whole Hewitt family to know that you can pinpoint when someone’s in the house, especially an intruder. Now if it’s Hoyt secretly watching you all you gotta do is tell Thomas or Luda Mae and they’ll just put him straight 🤷🏾‍♀️

Thomas would question you more about it since he finds it interesting himself. He’s a curious guy, so he’ll ask questions here and there and would want to see it from your perspective

Once you tell him that someone’s close to the house or is hiding inside the house he’s going protective mode

Thomas won’t rest until any trespassers are out of the Hewitts house considering the fact that he practically has to do all the work

Besides Hoyt but he dosen’t count

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba’s more confused than ever, how can you pinpoint someone so fast?

Unlike the other victims, you knew that either him or his brothers were close.

Just like Thomas, he’d ask questions about it too out of curiosity.

This would be also good when his brothers are being loud, even though they’re so loud it’s still best to let him know that they’re nearby or are coming to where you two are

When it comes to victims sometimes they rely on you to tell them where they’re at if bubba accidentally let them escape since he does a lot of work too.

Michael Myers

Will be more shocked out of all of them but won’t show it, normally people wouldn’t know that he’s there, sure they may get the feeling that someone is stalking them but not actually pinpoint where they are.

This caused him to follow you more to see if it’s just him or you can really see that he’s following you.

It’s a great surprise to him, he’s not sued to people pointing him out since he’s practically the god at stealth and stalking

Didn’t really want to kill you anymore which was weird so he spared your life.

When it comes to someone else stalking you there’s no stopping him even though he stalks you himself

Only he gets to do that not some random dude or person that can get away with it.

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yourbestprincess · 6 months

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The Shape being the bestest

SMUT, Michael Myers X Fem!reader, Breeding kink, p I v, sum cute fluff, Mikey opening up more, sweet Michael, (they both want eachother) SLIGHT hair pulling if you squint, size difference, basically smut and some cute shit. kinda proof read???

After a long day of being at home, missing Michael the entire time, you finally hear the door knob wiggle open. You’d missed him all day. You knew he wasn’t super physically affectionate sometimes, but recently he had been.

You hear him taking his shoes off by the front door, so you wait upstairs in you shared room and lie on the bed. You’re wearing one of his giant white t-shirts, black socks, and a pair of his boxers that were also way too big on you. You hear his weight on the old floor boards as he walks up the stairs, feeling ecstatic to greet him with a giant hug. Michaels hugs were always the best.

He was quite bulky and definitely huge compared to you. He creeps in the doorway, still wearing his mask and coveralls. He silently walks over to you, placing his warm hands on you, cupping your face. He lets out a sigh of relief, any noises he made would make you happy.

He never talked much at all, he could go days without talking. He only talked if he was demanding something or if he really needed your attention. But at most, it would be one or two words. He never minded you talking, knowing that was how you communicated.

He walks closer until he’s inches away from you. He makes you close your eyes by placing his hands over your eyes and gently pulling your lids down. Initially, you were confused by this, he never wanted your eyes off of him. “Michael, what’re you doing?” You ask curiously with a gently smirk. “Shhh” he whispers back. You immediately stay quiet, obeying him.

You hear his coveralls unzip and some rattling of the closet doors. What’s he doing?! You feel confused but you just let whatever’s happening to happen. After this rattling is over, you feel him tap at your shoulder, knowing that he wanted you to open your eyes now. As you flutter your eyes open, you see him in all of his glory. His pretty face, unmasked, his messy curly hair framing his face, and he’s wearing loose grey sweatpants with a wife beater.

You can tell that he’s nervous to be so vulnerable in front of you like this. Not having any of his protection to hide himself. “You’re so handsome.” You say, keeping eye contact with a soft gaze. He smirks gently and leans in to kiss you on your forehead, but he can’t help himself from indulging in a kiss with you. You both could never pass it up. He pulls away from the kiss, and tucks your hair behind your ear, making you blush and smile. You twist his curls around your finger. he’s still trying to understand how you love him even though he is such a bad person.

He picks you up, gently throwing you over his shoulder. You just accept it, because you know it isn’t going to be bad.

He takes you to his room where he works on his masks and lets you sit down on his lap as he works on them. He put down whatever tool that he was working with, to see that you fell asleep on his lap, your head resting in then crook of his neck, and your arms wrapped around his neck.

He pets your hair and hums to you as he slowly gets up in his best attempt to not wake you. When you wake up, you’re in the same position that you fell asleep in, on his lap, just now on your guys couch. You grunt as you stretch your arms out.

Michael pulls you back, gently holding a fistful of your hair, he looks at your deep in your eyes, sending chills down your spine, also making you blush. “I am yours, and you are mine.” you say, nuzzling up to him. Michael points to himself and tilts his head to the left, his soft gaze locked on you. “That’s right.” You spoke, kissing him on the cheek. “Y’know I love you Mikey?” You look at him with your puppy eyes, realizing that this is the most communicative he’s ever been with you. You hear him grunt a bit, not knowing if you pushed him too much. He nods and kisses your forehead.

You just hug him back since you’re so proud of him. He brings his lips down to you and presses kisses into your neck.

He knows that you love when he talks, he doesn’t know why, but he feels compelled to do it today.

When you first met Michael, he would never speak a word, but since you’ve known him for years now, he’s just now starting to try to form words. You know not to push him though.

He presses his lips against yours to continue the kiss. He isn’t the best at kissing, but he really does try, he loves how it feels when your soft lips touch his. You didn’t expect him to kiss you as hard as he was right now. You moan into the kiss, noticing his growing bulge beneath you.

“Mmm,” you mew into his ear. “Can feel you getting hard for me.” You continue. He lets out an almost silent “mhm”.

You lightly grind into his growing erection, hearing all the quiet whimpers he’s making. You make eye contact with each other, knowing that you both want it.

You crawl off of his lap and get down on your knees as he manspreads for you on the edge of the couch. You look up at him, eyebrows turnt upwards. He nods, letting you know that you can do what you want. You look down to see his length and girth through his grey sweatpants. (He’s 8’ long and 3 1/2’ wide) You gently tug on his waistband, slipping your fingers on the inside. You get ahold both the waistband of his sweats and boxers. As you pull down, you watch as his cock aggressively springs out of his boxers, twitching and leaking pre-cum. You gently grab his full balls out of his boxers, revealing everything.

You looked up at him and could tell that he was a little embarrassed, even though you two had done this before. You shake it off as you take your small hand and slowly pump his cock. You watch his face as he goes down and reaches for your hair. He grabs ahold of your locks and basically uses you as his personal fleshlight.

Obscene noises come out of him as you gag on his cock. You make the most lewd noises as you take him down your throat.

He slowly lets you get up from having his dick all the way in the back of your throat. He pats his lap, inviting you to sit on him. You slide off your his pre-soaked boxers and toss them aside. You crawl back onto his lap and line yourself up with his throbbing tip, already wet from your saliva.

“Ready for me?” You ask, your slick practicality dripping onto his cock at this point. He nods and places his hands firmly onto your hips, forcing you to take his girth and length in his one push.

You scream and moan but he doesn’t budge. He hums in your ear, kissing your neck while he lets you get adjusted to his size. You place your small hands on his wide shoulders and slowly rise up from his length. He grunts as he feels your slick going down his cock, dripping onto his balls.

He throws his neck back, showing you how vulnerable he allows himself to be around you. He grunts and says your name so quietly that it’s basically him mouthing it.

“Michael-,” your whimpers are cut off by him smashing his lips against yours. Both of you are moaning into each others mouths at this point.

Michael notices that your legs are starting to give out and shake, so he signals you to wrap them around him and he doesn’t have to ask you twice. Once you’re wrapped around him, he thrusts into you at an inhuman pace, bruising your cervix.

“Mikey,” you rush out. “M’ close!” Your words slur from the pure pleasure you’re getting from him.

He looks at you, staring deep into your eyes. His mouth open ever-so slightly, showing the slightest bit of emotion. Times like these make you remember how much he trusts you for him to be this vulnerable around you.

He nods his head, letting you know that he isn’t far behind you.

The room is filled with moans from you and Michael. You, screaming his name and whining as you cum all over his length. Him, grunting loudly with his raspy low voice. He shoots his hot thick cum into your cunt, filling you up as much as he physically can. He always loved the thought of breeding you.

He holds you while you’re still in his lap, his open hand goes to hold your head as you rest it against his collarbone. His other hand, already on the small of your back. He pets your hair gently as both of you bring your breathing back to its normal pace. He lifts you high enough to be able to slip his cock out of you and put it back into his sweats that are now stained because of you.

After you two come down from the adrenaline, he just lays there and holds you. He knows how tired you get after he fucks you like that. He used to just rail you and then walk out. That was when he wouldn’t take his mask off, wear anything different than his coveralls, or communicate. It took him years to be able to do any of that. But, now, he’s holding you as you fall asleep on him as you both lay down on your bed.

He carried you all the way from the couch to the bed because you couldn’t walk and he knew he needed to take care of his girl.

He presses gentle kisses onto your head every couple minutes, and eventually you stopped reacting to them. Now, knowing that you’re asleep, Michael gives you one more kiss and whispers, “I love you.” Just before falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.

#michael myers smut #michael myers #michael myers x reader #slasher smut #slasher x reader #halloween #Michael Myers is so hot #slashers #horror #horror smut

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calmcoldevening · 3 months

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Can you pls do slashers x reader who is very girly❤❤

It's ok if you don't want to do it!❤

Hey, of course I'll write it. Well, I didn't know which slashers you want, so I chose these four. If you want another slashers, just let me know, kitten ♡

I'm sorry it turned out so little, I'm just not good at 'girly' things

Slashers x girly!reader

Characters: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers

• He doesn't care. Michael absolutely does not care what you look like or what you wear, his affection is much deeper than external indicators.

• Although he doesn't particularly like it when you wear dresses or skirts that are too revealing. Michael sees people staring at you in the streets with hungry eyes. Because of this, he becomes very possessive. He will keep an eye on you on the streets with special care so that nothing happens to you.

• He likes your hips in dresses. After a long day, he just likes to put his hands under the fabric of your dress and squeeze your hips, his head resting on your stomach. You are his place of comfort.

• You are the only person whose feelings are even a little important to him. He'll be able to listen to you, but don't expect an extremely vivid reaction. If you're crying and you need comfort, the most he'll do is pull you onto his lap and hold you close, grumbling through his mask into your hair.

• He absolutely loves your shampoos and floral perfume. Amidst all the vulgarity of the modern world, you were his personal delicate flower.

• In general, such dynamics would be very much to Michael's liking. He is such a strong and big man and you are his little thing. He would be quite attentive, protective and dominant. If possible (if I remembered) Michael would bring you some trinkets, maybe even flowers.

Jason Voorhees

• Jason would be absolutely happy to be your partner. He would be as gentle, caring and attentive as possible. Jason is basically quite lonely, he lacks love and attention, and you are all so gentle and beautiful, like a young spring flower, he will love you with all his heart and protect you.

• Gives you flowers, teddy bears, all sorts of nonsense for no particular reason. He especially likes to collect flowers for you in the forest in a neat bouquet and tie it with a generic ribbon. Yes, it may not be a bouquet from the store, but it is made with all the love.

• He can listen for hours as you tell him about your makeup or some cute girly stuff. He will be very attentive. And although Jason doesn't understand everything about it, he will try to remember what you like. He really cares about your interests and tastes.

• If you make new nails, he will have a very violent reaction. Jason knows how important attention is to you, so when you come home with a new manicure, he will almost faint from such beauty. A man will gently take your smooth hands and gently kiss your beautiful fingers in turn. You are his treasure.

• Jason absolutely accepts and supports you, regardless of how you like to behave or dress. It will support all your new hobbies and help you if necessary.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba will squeal with joy when he finds out about your interests. In principle, he just liked to see you, so fragile and sweet against his background, in dresses, and now he finds out that you are interested in many different things... He loves you with all his heart.

• Bubba was fond of makeup and all that even before he met you, so now he will shyly ask you to teach him how to make up as beautifully as you do. His ears are red, and his gaze is fixed on the floor, he is a little ashamed to ask for such a thing. After all, he's such a big, tough man, but he trusts you.

• Very protective, especially from his brothers. He won't let anyone touch you.

• If you love cooking, he will be even more crazy about you. He's a pretty big boy, so he likes to eat delicious food. Hugs you tightly every time you cook your next incredibly wonderful dish. You have to eat, he has to do the dishes, he doesn't want you to ruin your delicate hands.

• Loves carrying you in her arms. He basically likes your size difference, it makes him feel like your protector. Madly in love with you and your personality, he won't let anyone hurt you.

Thomas Hewitt

• Thomas has wanted to have a sweet little wife and start a family with her all his life, but he didn't think anyone would really love him. And then you showed up. So sweet, beautiful, small and innocent. He's crazy about you.

• On the one hand, he is a strong, courageous and caring man who will try to do whatever you want for you, he always tries to make you happy. But on the other hand, in your gentle embrace, he turns into a stupid little boy who only wants attention from his beautiful wife.

• Thomas is very protective of you. He would not allow any of the victims to lay a finger on his fragile sweet lover. If they dare to look at you lasciviously, Thomas will rip out their eyes without a twinge of conscience. You made him change for the better with your bright and pure soul, but he still remains a violent maniac, so he won't let anyone offend you.

• Now he treats female victims a little more carefully. He tries not to spoil their jewelry or things, in case you want to take some of it for yourself. In addition, he takes special care to take the victims' suitcases out of their cars and checks for any trinkets that you might like.

• Can't stand the looks of Hoyt and Monty on you. When you walk around the house in a skirt or dress, Thomas tries to be close to you and hug you around the waist, covering your hips with his big hand. You are only his treasure.

#slashers x reader #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader

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ghostfacesvalentine · 7 months

Text

HALLOWEEN DAY 2: Too scary - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of scary movies, trauma, blood, gore, etc. Nothing too graphic

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Turns out the movie was too terrifying for little Y/N to handle, therefore it’s their job to comfort you.

Notes: Let’s see how long I can keep this up.

Jason Voorhees: At first he wouldn’t notice, mostly focused on the movie and the candy he’s stuffing his face with. When you’d shuffle around, when he’d notice the constant movement, then he’d take a look at you only to find you with your knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It’d take a moment for him to register that your stomach was turning at the imagery. Once he would, Jason would instantly coop you up into his arms and keep you in a tiny ball, doing his best to protect you from your thoughts.

Michael Myers: He can smell fear, he’s always been exposed to fear all around him, it’s like second nature to him. When he realizes you’re afraid of the movie, he turns over to stare at you for a moment, which makes you even more uneasy. Thinking Michael looks at you like you’re a big baby, you decide to just cross your arms and brave through the rest of the film. Of course, failing miserably. Michael would force you into his arms, letting you kind of flop into his arms and situate yourself however you wanted.

Tiffany Valentine: She loves horror movies, it’s one of the things that could keep her occupied. While your stomach twists at the imagery and blood splatter on the screen, Tiffany seems mesmerized by it, not paying much attention to your squeamish reaction. Once you’re both done with the movie, she’d turn to you asking “So, how’d you like it?” Only to see you near traumatized. “Y/N!” Tiffany would wrap her arms around your face and bring you into her chest, pressing you into a hug. “Was that too scary? Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Of course she’d make it up to you, with much affection and endearment.

Billy Loomis: Doesn’t even notice at first how uncomfortable you are, no matter how much you nuzzle into him. A few flinches in, he’d look down to you to make sure you were awake, but to see you near in tears would cause him to stop the movie. “Y/N? You okay? We can stop watching this, I just thought you’d like to see it with me.” He knew better than to keep it playing when you’d tell him you were fine. “No, I mean, it’s kinda lame anyway, here’s the remote, find something better. I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Then he’d come back, lay into the arm rest and bring you down with him, making sure you were cuddled into the blanket on the couch.

Stu Macher: What a dumbass, he wouldn’t really notice at all if you were crying or looking away from the screen too much. He’s “in the moment” with the gory scenes. After the movie, Stu would ask you how you’d like it only to see hot tears streaming down your cheeks. He’d laugh a little bit at how scared you looked, but then would give you the tightest hug. Stu would hold you tightly enough to give you some troubles breathing regularly, letting you put on some cartoons to forget the imagery. Will this happen again? Absolutely.

Patrick Bateman: Ok, he’s probably the worst of them all. Patrick watches snuff films and all kinds of gruesome films for fun. When you brought it up to his attention, he was more than happy to show you what he liked and explain to you the different methods of torture and what part inflicted the most pain. Even if you’d throw up, Patrick would keep the film going, mesmerized by the screams telling you “It’s actually not that bad.” But he’d let you hide into his arm, clenching onto it as you did so, but there was no way to hide from the terrorizing screams and Patrick's chuckle throughout it.

Leatherface: Honestly always checking up on you through every scene. Bubba doesn’t even want you to watch the scary films, he would think you were too pure for them, ironically. If you insisted though, he’d let you, holding you close to him and giving you space to hide if you needed to look away, which seemed to be often. Bubba would be ready to turn off the screen at any moment, one arm wrapped around you and the other one with the finger on the off button. He too would let you watch cartoons with him after. Bubba would offer you your favorite junk food or candy and let you snuggle into him while you laugh at the new pictures on the screen.

Harley Quinn: Is SUPER into horror. Laughs at the screams and blood splatter “Y/N! Y/N! Did ya see that? Did ya see it?! Let me rewind it.” Harleys a bit clueless when it comes to seeing your discomfort at first, but then when she notices you keep flinching or looking away, her expression immediately changes. “Oh my god Y/N? Are you afraid of this? You shoulda said something pumpkin’!” Immediately cuddles you and keeps you close to her chest, changing the channel to a Disney movie. Harley would be THE best at comforting you, squeezing the near life out of you to keep you comfortable and your mind off of things. Lots of comfort food, honestly.

Poison Ivy: Isn’t necessarily obsessed with horror movies and gore, not very interested in it either but she doesn’t mind playing the exorcist for background noise. If you’re not obviously telling her that you’re scared or you want to play something else, she would pick up on how you would react. Flinching at certain moments in the movie, looking away from the screen constantly, all things Pamela would notice, putting two and two together, she’d turn off the TV, telling you simply “What a trashy movie, let’s go play.” And would lead you into the bedroom for some TLC. Pamela’s love language would be physical touch and she would make sure you would get enough of it to fall asleep to. She’d make a mental note to stay away from horror movies with you.

Bruce Wayne: Never was really big with horror movies to begin with. Bruce grew up with musicals and operas, he was cultured in filmmaking, but horror never really made a mark in his interests, mainly because of the real life horrors he had to face already. Of course Bruce picks up on everything, noticing your reluctance in watching any more of this movie, he decides to nuzzle you into him, not saying a word and changing the channel, or taking your hand to lead you out of the theater. After all, Bruce knew what it felt like to be afraid. Expect a ton of tender touches and soft kisses.

Jason Todd: Sweetest energy tbh. Whether your watching a scary movie as a group or together, his reaction would be similar in both scenarios. As soon as he’d feel your palm in a cold sweat he’d look for your reaction, even if you try to brave through it, Jason would pull your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. ‘What a bullshit ass movie.” He’d mumble while subconsciously caressing the back of your head. “You’re being brave dollface, but you don’t have to be.” He’d whisper to you and give you a squeeze. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Billy Hargrove: Notices instantly, but wouldn’t want to call you out on it. Instead he would also pull a stunt like Pamela. Telling you “This is kinda tacky, let’s leave.” And would lead you out of the movie theater, turn off the TV or leave whatever house party you were at. He’d make sure to never let you go, holding your hand, keeping his arm around your waist as usual, always being protective of you. Billy would make you feel safe enough to tell him what happened and what was wrong and why. He’d actually listen to you, being quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, then comfort you by telling you “That’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, I had a few movies that scared the daylights out of me, but you know I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

Steve Harrington: Knows from the start that you don’t like horror movies, he doesn’t either but he can stomach a lot more than you can. Steve was kind of taken a back when you insisted that it would be fine to have a movie night with your friends even though they planned a horror marathon. When the kill scenes would get severely worse as the movie progresses, you’d get more uncomfortable and at this point it seemed like an unspoken competition to see who could stomach more gore, you or Steve. Still, when you’d take a nap, shifting and shuffling around in the blankets, he’d know the movie maybe actually got to you. Steve would hug you tightly, caress your face when you’d drift in and out of sleep.

Steve Rogers: Would be such a big time caregiver energy. When you’d hide your face away in certain scenes, Steve would notice instantly, hugging you closely through the scene. If you kept showing discomfort, Steve would take you from the room, not offering an explanation to anyone. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go do something else” He never really understood the concept or horror movies, nor the appeal, so it wasn’t like he was missing out on anything. Steve would pick you up, letting you hide into his chest or his neck. He’d kiss your head, cheek and neck constantly, slow and full of love. “Come on angel, let’s watch something else.” He’d turn on the TV letting you chose any cartoon movie you’d be in the mood to watch.

Bucky Barnes: Also with Steve energy, he’d let you hide into him. He kind of understood the concept of the horror movies, even liked a couple but not to the extent those around you both would like. His heart melts when he sees you pout and avoiding looking at the screen. Closing your eyes waiting for the screaming to stop, Bucky would want nothing more than to reach over and pull you onto him, letting you hide into him and tell you everything was okay and it was only a movie. When the movie would be over, he’d check up on you, making sure you weren’t still thinking of it, which more than likely you were and he wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you, letting you curl into his body, being three times your size and keeping you safe from whatever horror you saw today.

Wanda Maximoff: She would notice it the second scene in, the minute you hesitated to agree on a horror marathon with the team, she knew maybe you were a little bit more of a baby than she initially thought. She’d play it off with you as well, telling the team the movie seemed boring and that she just wanted to go to bed, she was tired. When the others would dismiss her, not paying much attention, she would look at you, who stayed sitting in silence. “Y/N? Are you okay? You keep nodding off, come join me, let’s get you to bed.” Wanda would be your saving grace and of course she would let you sleep in her bed, keeping you comfortable and safe in her pillow fortress and arms.

Loki Laufeyson: He’d always notice any sort of discomfort in you, knowing that you weren’t able to stomach much of the gory scenes but a part of him wanted to see how much you were able to handle. Loki would sit where he was able to look at you with just a flicker of his eyelids in your direction. When you’d all have a movie night, Loki would be the one to agree to watch something gruesome just to see you squirm in your seat. When it would be too much to handle for you and you’d have to excuse yourself, Loki would come to your aid when he would pass by your room to see you sitting on the corner, hugging yourself trying to erase the imagery out of your head by watching your favorite comfort films. “Y/N? How are you doing?”

Cloud Strife: He’s not very fazed by horror movies or anything of that sort, but if he feels you hide against him again throughout the movie, he would let you. He’d hesitate to put his arm around you, but if you snuggle into it, he’d squeeze you in. Because this seemed to be very unlike Cloud, snuggling into his torso would be the most comforting thing. Cloud would let you sleep with him if you admitted you were scared, letting you snuggle in under the covers with him, he’d drape an arm over you and keep you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Aerith Gainsborough: Not terribly interested in horror movies, but would watch a few just to spend some time. Aerith has quite the strong stomach compared to you and the rest of your friends. She could sit there and watch a full marathon with you guys no problem, but if you couldn’t handle it, she’d understand and take a walk with you, picking flowers for you on the sidewalk as she would try to distract you from the imagery from before. Her smile surely would help, Aerith would be the perfect person to comfort you for something that seems as silly as a horror movie.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’d seen it all, fear is not something he was very familiar in feeling, but he knew it came as second nature to the human species. If you were afraid of a movie or show, he’d find it amusing to see you worked up over false imagery when he had seen much worse, all real as well. Sebastian would still excel in his duty to comfort you, assuring you there was nothing to fear, since he would never let anything hurt you. Being cared for by him in this way did help, you knew he meant it and it was silly for you to worry about anything that was plastered across a screen.

Spencer Reid: Would be so wholesome, he had seen so much gruesome scenes, often inspiring many of the plots of movies you two were watching, but he knew to spare you the details. When Spencer heard you wanted to see a horror movie with him, he was surprised, letting you decide which one, but when it was too much for you, he knew right when to stop it and ask you if you were okay, not wanting to have you get nightmares for the next week straight. Spencer would soothe you, holding you close to him, letting you lay down onto him and snuggle under a blanket. He’d play something more wholesome, maybe a Disney classic in the background or some sort of comedy to keep your mind off the previous imagery.

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amomentsescape · 3 months

Note

can I also request to yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a pregnant reader that gets kidnapped if thats ok? Thank you hope im not requesting too much, no pressure to make it 😅

Yandere! Slashers with Pregnant Reader That Gets Kidnapped

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of pregnancy, typical Slasher behavior

A/N: No worries! Thank you for requesting :) I also apologize if my last couple of Slasher fics have been a bit short. I've been stuck in a brain fog this past week.

Freddy Krueger

The moment Freddy sees you gone, he just laughs

You couldn't be that stupid to just leave, could you?

You can't escape him when he can show up at any point no matter where you are

However, him popping up and seeing you being held hostage by someone else...

Freddy's smile fades

Of course you wouldn't leave him

But who dares to have put you and his child at risk?

The moment he sees them, he doesn't even care

He immediately slashes their throat and picks you up, not wasting any time taking you back to where you belong

Michael Myers

The kidnapper was careless

Don't they know that Michael would walk to the ends of the earth for you and his child?

His abilities know no bounds

He finds your location within a single night

All you can hear at first are screams and splatters, not sure what is going on outside your little room

But the moment you see Michael, you immediately relax

You weren't sure he would come for you

But here he was

And without a word, he has you lifted in his bloody arms as he walks you back home

Just know he won't be letting you out of his sight at all now

Jason Voorhees

He can hear your screams echo throughout the woods

He knows this area like the back of his hand anyways, so it doesn't take long to locate you

The way you're holding onto your stomach, trying to protect the child from any harm, has Jason seeing nothing but red

He doesn't even want to fool around with the assailant

His machete is plunged into the top of their head before they can even let out a scream

His mood does a complete 180 when he looks back to you, gently taking you in his arms to make sure you weren't hurt

He just sits with you on the ground for a while, rocking you in his arms

He's attempting to comfort you, but there's a part of him that's also trying to comfort himself

Thomas Hewitt

When he comes home to the door wide open, he immediately panics

You didn't leave him... did you?

He thought you were finally happy

Teary eyed and angered, Thomas storms out into the night to look for you

He had wandered pretty far into the area when he heard your screams

Some crazy family seemed to have taken you from your home

Your screams were immediately cut off by the sound of a chainsaw, cutting right into the door

Your kidnappers jumped up and attempted to flee, but Thomas was quick to catch up

You had your ears covered and your eyes tightly shut when he came back in

He gently pulled your hands down and lifted you up

He carried you home without any hesitation

Bubba Sawyer

The screams of devastation he lets out can literally be heard from miles around

Doesn't even want to consider that you left him

You've been so good the last few months

There's no way you would have just left like this

After an hour of him frantically searching around the area, he can finally hear your voice

You were talking to the stranger, asking them to please let you go

The fact that they just kept ignoring you made Bubba even more angry

They only finally looked up when they heard the revving of his chainsaw

They didn't even have time to flee before they were cut in half

He runs over to you quickly, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on the side of your face

He was blubbering, promising you he'll do better next time

Brahms Heelshire

Well this was an incredibly stupid decision on their part

Don't they know that Brahms doesn't ever leave the house?

And wherever you are, he will be too

The kidnapper doesn't even make it out the door with you

The moment Brahms hears your screams, it's over

He emerges from the wall and grabs the kidnapper

You watch as Brahms slams the person's head into the wall, over and over again until they're just a bloody pulp

He storms over to you and grabs you roughly, looking your body over to make sure you and the baby weren't hurt

He traps you in bed with him for the rest of the night

His arms act as a cage, not letting you up for anything

Norman Bates

Everything is a bit of a blur

He comes home to the place ransacked, you nowhere in sight

You weren't reckless

He knows you wouldn't have done this

He turns to go search for you, and that's when things go black

He finally comes to with you crying in his arms on a dirty floor

An unrecognizable body lays beside him, blood pooling everywhere

But you and his child are safe

That's all that matters now

And he'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again

Billy Loomis

Billy is immediately in a rage when he sees you're gone

There is no way you're going to leave him

Never

He'll break into every house in this town if he has to

And that's just what he does

It's only after the 7th house that he finds you tied up to a chair

Oh you poor thing

Of course you didn't leave him

The scene before you quickly becomes bloody

A few bodies lie splattered on the floor, Billy tending to the rope around you

He apologizes for letting this happen and kisses you deeply

It's only later that night you hear of 7 families that had been found slashed in their own homes

There really is no limit when it comes to Billy

Stu Macher

He has a mental breakdown when he sees that you're gone

Goes into a fit of hysterical laughter as he reaches for his knife

He doesn't want to hurt you, but he will if he must

When he hears a scream echo not too far from where he was searching, he sprints to it

And when he sees you being held by some random person, Stu's crazed smile finally drops

He lunges, and things go out of control

Stu is left with a few cuts and bruises, but he doesn't care

He immediately looks you over and makes sure you're not hurt

When he's content, he takes you home and cuddles up with you on the couch, bloody clothes and all

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent doesn't like to venture too far from home, but he'll do it for you

Seeing that you're gone makes him assume the worse

He marches outside the home, already searching every nook and cranny of this desolate place

And it works out in his favor once he sees you in an old building, knocked unconscious

He smashed his way through the window immediately

The attackers come running towards him, but he was quick to act

You awoke to a bloody mess beside you and a worried Vincent knelt in front of you

He rests his hands on your stomach and you nod, letting him know you and the baby are okay

He's content with this and wraps you in his arms to take you back home

Bo Sinclair

If he can't have you, no one can

When he's sees you're gone, he assumes you left just like he knew you were going to try

He hunts you down immediately, ready to do what needed to be done, only to see you scared and tied up

Oh, now Bo can't help the growing smile on his face

You didn't want to leave him, and now he can have fun with whoever was stupid enough to do this

Will knock them unconscious and take you both home

He'll make their death a long and painful one

But it's another addition to the wax museum

One that he is most proud of

Lester Sinclair

He instantly tears up at the idea that you left him

He almost doesn't even want to go after you, but you're also carrying his child

He can't just let you go that easily

He of course checks Ambrose first, and he considers himself lucky to have found you as soon as he did

But seeing you being held by some random person was not what he had planned

Lester's self pity quickly evolves to pure anger

He jumps in and immediately attacks, not even thinking of finding a weapon first

His adrenaline kicks in and it doesn't take long before he kills the kidnapper, suffocating them to death

He then wraps himself up with you, holding you close and apologizing over and over again

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slashersidewhore · 1 year

Text

Slashers! S/O hurt by a victim

Slashers x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: Beefy murder boyfriends, hurt/comfort, minor angst, injuries, blood, fluffy shit

Michael Myers

Michael doesn’t want you involved in his crimes, he’d rather you keep your pretty self out of harms way. Whether that be at home, or somewhere else in general, just anywhere but with him when he’s busy killing. That being said, accidents happen.

You can’t help the curiosity that runs through you when a harsh bang comes from the backyard of the Myers house. It was sudden really, opening the back door when you were knocked backwards, head careening into the wall with a dull thud.

The minute you let out a yelp from the pain and being caught off guard, the shadow of a tall, looming figure isn’t far behind

There was only one word to describe the feeling bubbling in the killers chest and that would be absolute rage

Now, Michael isn’t one to worry himself when someone gets themself hurt, he could care less quite honestly. But seeing you holding the back of your head, blood covering your hands and forehead, eyes squeezed shut with unshed tears, the little bit of sanity left in him just snaps. The horrific screams of the victim who pushed you over are all that fill the house, quieting into watery gurgles and then just silence

Heavy footsteps stop before your slumped over form, rough, unpracticed movements that pull at your body drag a hiss from your lips. Although Michael isn’t one to stop, he’s focused on getting you to open your eyes, see you looking back at him, let him know you’re okay

A calloused palm soothes over the crown of your head, pulling another whine as his fingers hover at the wound. It’s nothing too serious, probably a concussion, some gauze and pain killers will fix you right up. But the usual silence from Michael isn’t comforting, especially considering the way he seems to have doubled in size, shoulders squared, fingers twitching to curl into fists, working eye squinted behind the cut in his mask. The man is clearly agitated, heavy breathing more ragged, rushed

He’s unable to stab his way through this problem, he can’t fix it by spilling more blood. That worries him immensely. He’s not used to taking care of anyone in such a manner, or at all. His body is acting as a shield from the outside world, not holding you close yet not letting you go. To the right, the mangled, haphazardly tossed body of the victim lies, their cruel death far more brutal than you’d even known Michael to be

He won’t say anything, as usual, but the manner in his body language is different, not soft but protective, cautious. He’s not sure what to do with these feelings, not sure how to process the sight of you bleeding, the one person he’d rather never even encounter a simple scrape

He promises himself right then and there nothing of this sort will ever occur again. Not if he can prevent it. He would watch the world burn before you so much as felt an ounce of pain again

Jason Voorhees

Same as Michael in the regards that he doesn’t want you anywhere near any of his potential or current victims. The idea that you could possibly get injured runs through is mind the daily, even without the threat of others. So if he’s dealing with naughty campers, you better be safe in the cabin, doors locked and windows sealed

Although Jason seems to underestimate the lengths some would go to survive, especially the rage that follows when their friends are slaughtered

Imagine his surprise when he’s hunting down one of the people that got away, heart beginning to race as he realizes their tracks lead back to the cabin, the exact cabin you’re supposed to be safe in. “Safe”, is a word that completely leaves his mind upon seeing what he does when he enters the ajar door. Your face is bloodied, bruised and swollen, collar of your shirt clutched by the victim he dared to allow escape. The sight is enough to send the poor man into cardiac arrest, heart beating so fast it feels to him as if his chest will rip open, but that can wait

The way he carves into the unsuspecting back of the offender above you is feral, machete driving down again and again until you’re left with a bloody heap rather than a person, a heap that is quickly tossed carelessly to the side, relieving the pressure from your weakened body

Even through the swell, pain and red, your eyes can see his swimming with extreme pain

He did this, he caused you to be hurt, it was his fault you were ever put in harms way. His racing pulse doesn’t subside even when you attempt a bloody smile, too overtaken with grief to calm his nerves. In Jason’s mind, he doesn’t deserve someone like you, no matter what you’ve done, what you’ve been through, you’re perfection to him. The fact that you’d chose to be by his side astonishes him, so to let you be injured in this way? Beaten and practically frail in his arms? He’s failed you

The anger in his veins disappeared the minute you softly called his name, hand reaching up to caress the side of his mask. There’s evident tears in your eyes, whether from fear or pain both options are the worst case in Jason’s mind. Yet you don’t seem upset with him, which confuses him greatly but ultimately, your anger towards him would only worsen how he felt

In that moment, holding you clutched to his firm, scarred chest, he promises to himself he’d never let another hand cause you such harm

Thomas Hewitt

In Thomas’s eyes, you’re safest as you can be furthest from him, no matter his hearts urge to keep you as close as possible

The image of you crying, bleeding, or simply making a face indicating unease, upsets his stomach, twists and turns his insides unpleasantly

That is until one day, another hot, overbearing Texan day in the heat when one of the trespassers managed to escape the basement, god knows how they did it, but they did. And now Thomas was lost in the sweat of a days work, eyes scanning the grain filled yard, dusty streets and dead land, no one in sight. Until the buzzing in his ears is cut off by the unmistakable, bloodcurdling scream of someone not too close, yet not far either. What makes his blood run cold isn’t the sound itself, but the familiarity of it. Now Thomas has never actually heard you make such a noise, but he’d be a fool to not recognize it, especially when it came from someone who brought him such warmth

Terror, he can also recognize the tone at which you use, the fear in it, he can feel every ounce of dread you do, tenfold at the idea he may be too late, he may not make it in time, if only he was closer

He’s running now, chainsaw alive and screeching, heavy pants beneath the leather on the lower half of his face, eyes wildly searching the open area for a sign of danger, a sign of you

Thats when he spots it in the distance, a figure standing above another, some kind of tool held high, what looks like a kitchen knife in the gleam of sunlight that hits it. His legs feel of jelly, unable to move until another scream fills his ears, this time it’s of his name, most desperate, pained. And if that didn’t get him moving, he didn’t know what would. Chainsaw raised in pure adrenaline, the lumbering man is quick to slice downwards, down and down and down until body parts dismember, organs are strewn, red covers the wheat and grass and dirt

Saw thrown off to the side, Thomas kneels beside your nearly curled up form, hands pressing into the stab wound decorating your side, blood seeping from your hands that clutch to keep it in. He’s gentle, like a butterfly kissing you, years of scars and rough work should make his hands feel like sandpaper, although grasping you like you’d dissolve, his palms are simply silk

Head lulling into his chest, ignoring the blood that’s spewed across it, you nuzzle the underside of his chin, although in grave pain, the wound stinging with each stride Thomas makes, you feel at peace, comforted by the large man holding you like you would a breakable doll

Dark, heavy eyes shift down to gaze upon you, worried brow furrowed deep, clearly in distress upon seeing you so weakened, losing blood. Luda Mae can fix you right up thankfully, he just can’t imagine ever seeing you in such a state again, he never wants too, it would physically kill him

Carrying your tired body, heartbeats one, Thomas enters the Hewitt mansion with one thing on his mind, he’s never to be far from you ever again

Vincent sinclair

You never went in the basement when Vincent was, “working”, you’d learned it best to leave him alone, ignore the screams of pain and smell of hot wax hitting warm skin

The mans activities aren’t a secret from you, although he’d rather you not watch him participate in such acts, he’d rather you keep from seeing such horrors, allow your sleep to be uninterrupted by nightmares unlike his

You were headed to the kitchen when the loud screaming of what sounded like someone in fear and confusion could be heard, the thunderous steps of someone hurling towards the room you were in, the form of a startled victim coming into view

Their eyes changed from fear to rage, seeing you unharmed, at peace in such a place that got their friends killed, mindlessly headed for the fridge. You could already hear the heavy boots of Vincent rushing up the basement steps, and as if he couldn’t move any quicker, your yelp of fear proved otherwise

Your eyes were wide when the masked man finally came into view, hands grasping as the arm around your neck from behind, body pressed against the person that had narrowly escaped, shaking as they held a kitchen knife to your cheek. The look in Vincent’s eye was deadly, in fact you would’ve been trembling in fear from the intensity if not for the fact that you knew the man would do anything to protect you, and vice versa

Garden sheers were clutched tight in one of his rough hands, knuckles caked with wax. The knife against your cheek began to dig slightly into your delicate skin, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips before red filled your vision, sprayed across where the offending weapon once was, arms leaving your body as the body fell limp to the kitchen floor. Turning to look at the damage, your face was softly grasped by two warm palms, eyes still wide from the ordeal, staring into Vincent’s now calm gaze

His thumb swiped at the blood beading on your cheek bone, clearly discontent with even the smallest cut adorning the face he loved the most, a low noise coming from the back of his throat, akin to a wounded animal

Pulling you into his broad chest, dark locks brushed the sides of your face, Vincent stared dead ahead, one hand on the back of your head as he internally cursed himself out, how dare he let someone that close to you, how dare he let them draw your blood

Glancing as the nearly decapitated victims body on the floor, blood pooling, Vincent swore to himself if anyone ever caused you such pain again, they’ve face a cruel, slow death

Hope y’all enjoyed <3

#thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #michael myers #slasher #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #jason voorhees #michael myers x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slashers headcanons #slashers fanfic #slashers fanfiction #slashers x reader insert #slashers #slashers x gn reader

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nothomegal · 7 months

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“The little owl family” (Part 5)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond. Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: mentions of non-con touches towards (Y/N), (Y/N) being very hateful and angry with Mikey.

Word Count: 3.9k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6)

The next two days were rough, it felt like walking on eggshells. No matter where the siblings went or what they did, Michael always was nearby, just watching them, observing each of their activities and interactions.

Monday was fun (not at all), (Y/N) had to call and invent some excuse about their sister being sick for a week since Michael made it clear that they're not going anywhere for now, how you may ask? Easy, taking away the car keys right under their nose and seeing if they got the balls to get them back. (Y/N) was beyond pissed, but had to keep their frustration to themselves since there is little they can do about it, not without losing or breaking another limb in the process.

(S/N) wasn't even excited about not going at school, it's obvious that the little girl was uncomfortable with the precense of some big scary man, a big scary man who often holds a knife.

Oh, the knife. That stupid knife that (Y/N) often felt poking their sides or slide along their back and other parts that should not be touched by strangers. These unwelcomed 'knife touches' would usually happen when the man holding the weapon wanted more food, or simply because... Because he could, because he knows they won't do anything to stop him, because he wants to explore their body, see how it reacts to the cool blade gently sliding along their warm skin... At least Myers kept his part of the agreement and would do this only when (S/N) is not present, detail that lead the older sibling to believe that he has some very shady intentions towards them...

That disgusting son of a bitch.

Sleeping also became a problem, for the last night Michael would show up after midnight and just… Watch. It made (Y/N) super uncomfortable, they attempted to come to some agreement but all they got as an answer is a head tilt. The last straw was when (S/N) broke down in tears at the morning, confessing how much she hated when he is there and how scary it was. So (Y/N), like the older protective sibling they are, came up with a solution…

. . .

Staring, it became their unofficial language. (Y/N) was currently sitting on the ground with a kitchen knife tightly clutched in their hand. They're sitting right next to their sister’s room door, who by this time was sleeping soundly in her bed, completely unaware that her sibling is at the other side of the door, guarding it like a police dog and making sure that the monster doesn't disturb her innocent mind any further. Michael, of course, was there as well, staring back at (Y/N) from the darkest part of the corridor.

(Y/N) was no longer afraid, no longer fearful for their life, now they were just annoyed, angry, furious at the masked man. The audacity, the audacity of this bastard to just appear out of nowhere and ruin their simple and peaceful life with his presence, being this giant shadow that has no respect for (Y/N)'s boundaries and patience, testing them constantly, seeing how long they can handle before snapping and inevitably dying by his hand. They hated him, hated with a burning passion, they wanted to hurt him, stab him with everything in the house, lock him up back in the asylum, make him crawl back into the place in hell he came from…

The more their mind filled with such violent thoughts, the more their face changed into a sulk; brows deeply furrowed, jaw clutched tightly, eyes glued to his large form, pupils shrunken… Every single hint of disgust and unlikeness were reflected in their expression, in their gaze… But it didn’t affect Michael, not at all.

Or at least… They didn’t know it did.

The man stared back at (Y/N) nearly as intensely as they did, but unlike them, he wasn't feeling hate or anger, but a desire, desire for something. He still has to figure out what's that feeling is, which is constantly burning him from the inside, luring him closer and closer to them, demanding him to touch them, feel their body against his calloused hands and not the knife's blade, feel the way their chest raises and falls with each breath, feel their pulse move with each heartbeat... Look into their eyes... He wanted to stare into those eyes for an eternity, feel the heat of their anger burn his skin, scratch it with cold glances and then softly caress it with their warmth...

Warmth...

Even though Michael adored the thrill that (Y/N)'s furious gaze causes in him, sometimes... He wished he could experience their soft and loving gaze, the one they always gift their sister with. The way their face lights as they look at the little one, a soft warm smile appearing on their lips as a light gentle blush spreads on their cheeks. When (Y/N) has these eyes... They look so peaceful, so... He can't even describe it, but it somehow puts his mind on ease as well, making him feel like everything in the world is alright, like everything will be alright.

Sigh... But these are only wishes, something he had plenty of over the years. He wished for his mother to be home more often, a normal happy family, a good childhood, see his little sister and attempt to make their reunion right... He wished for so many things, yet none of them became true, so this one won't neither...

He will never experience these warm and loving eyes...

Never... Neither from (Y/N)... Or (S/N), who's still avoiding him and shying away in his presence, as if running away from a monster...

. . .

—"{Fuck...}"— you cuss under your breath as you look at the nearly empty fridge.

—"It's okay (Y/N), we can just go to the store and buy more!"— (S/N) says with an excited and innocent tone.

But in a second, her expression changed into a fearful one as she steps back. That's when (Y/N) feels a large hand grasp them by their arm, a bit roughly, which meant that Michael wanted their attention inmediatly.

They swallow thickly but mantain their composure. With their hand (Y/N) motions to their sister to go into her room, order that the little girl listens without a fuss and nearly trips as she runs away from the kitchen. Ones left alone, (Y/N) turns towards the large man while sighing shakily.

—"Okay, so-"—

They have no time to finish when their car keys were handed (thrown) to them. (Y/N) blinks a couple of times as they process what happened, huh... Well it was easy.

—"Oh..."— you slowly lift your gaze at his emotionless mask, your gaze distrustful, expecting some sort of trick. —"So... Am I really allowed to go?"—

No answer or movement, only an intensive stare. They sigh shakily again as they hide the keys in their pocket.

—"Can I take (S/N) as well?... She hasn't left the house for a whil- "—

Their form is suddenly pushed back against the fridge, their back pressed against the cold surface while a single large hand is holding them by the throat in place, firmly but not chocking.

He then slowly brings his knife up and simply points at them with the blade, it wasn't a threatning gesture, in Michael's terms, just a simple act to get a message across...

That they are going alone.

(Y/N)'s mouth gapes as their expression morph into a shocked and disgusted one, is he really planning to stay all alone with their little sister?!

—"You sick fuck, the hell you want to do to my si-"—

He suddenly shakes his head, not a little subtle jerk but an actual shake, probably realizing how bad and shady his intentions have looked from (Y/N)'s perspective.

(Y/N) let's out another sigh, trying to calm their temper and anxiety down, they really don't want to leave (S/N) all by herself with this maniac, but at the same time they really need food and other supplies. Reslizing that there is really no other way, at least not without ending up hurt, they groan both annoyed and frustrated at how helpless and useless they are.

—"Fine! I'll go alone... But... But let me warn my sister first, please."— you look into his mask's eye sockets as you plead, your own gaze less harsh, almost vulnerable.

They can feel his fingers twitch against their neck when they lock eyes, action that caught their breath and made body stiff. They can hear Michael's breathing get heavier again as they keep gazing at each other, yet their calm and pleading expression still not changing, hoping that this could somehow calm whatever is going on inside of his mind, hope he shows mercy... However, they do end up flinching when the man began to lean closer to their face, so close that they could nearly see his eyes, his real eyes, through the empty eye holes of the mask.

At the sight of his icy blue eyes stare back at them, (Y/N) freezes as an odd spine chill jolts through them, an electrifying feeling that made them both hot and cold at the same time. Oddly enough, they weren't afraid of his gaze... His emotionless yet intense gaze, like that of a wild hungry animal...

They remain like this for a while, their faces only inches away from each other. But when Michael attempted to move even closer and press his body agains (Y/N)'s, they finally snap of this strange trance and stop him by putting their hands against his solid chest.

—"S-Stop, this... This is too close."— you say, your tone a tag defensive.

Michael remains still, they could swear his eyes darkened by the regection, yet he doesn't push further and eventually let's go of their neck and steps back. It takes a second for them to regain their previous composure and focus, but thankfully they manage to.

—"I... I'll go tell (S/N)."— you grumble as you hurriedly make your way out of there.

. . .

—"Y-You're leaving me alone?... With the monster?"— (S/N) says shakily as she clings to your clothes and being on a verge of tears.

—"I'm sorry, songbird. I'm really sorry. But I promise I'll be back soon, you'll be okay, I know you will."— you hug her back tightly, also being quite emotional due to your own fear and worry.

—"But... B-But what if he-"—

—"He won't. He won't hurt you, he promi-"—

—"But he hurts you, (Y/N)!"— she exclaims, both angry and pained.

—"What?... No, no he doesn't, look, I'm fine."—

—"No you're not! I know he does something to you when you're alone and I can see that, you always look so hurt and angry and... Sad... You always so sad whenever he's around."— she looks at you as she grips your clothes tighter. —"I... I don't want him to make me sad too... I- I don't want to see you like this anymore, I want the old us back, when we were happy!"—

These words broke (Y/N)'s heart completely. Despite their efforts to keep everything cool and away from (S/N), the little girl proved that they didn't do a great job and how truly affected she is. However, they don't give up against their emotions and with a huff they hug their sister tightly again.

—"We will return to normal. As I said, I'll figure this out."— you look at her and your gaze softens a bit. —"When mom and dad were gone, I had to figure out many things at ones too, and as you can see, I did it. So why whouldn't I be able now?"—

The girl falls silent, thinking and unsure of what to say.

—"I know it's hard, I know you hate to see me cry, but I'll get us through this and soon I'll be the good old smily (Y/N) you know. Just be patient and remain strong, okay? Do that for me."— you smile at her as you take her hand into yours.

Both siblings lock eyes and another wave of silence came, but this time it was (S/N) who broke it by suddenly wrapping their arms around her sibling.

—"You're right! I must remain as strong as you!"— she confidentaly huffs. —"And- And I'll help you figure out things! Like our escape plan!"—

(Y/N) merely chuckled, already knowing that the 'plan' will be some sort of impossible and childish idea, but they'll give (S/N) an A for the attempt and effort. Ones made sure their sister was okay, they prepare to leave, but not before reminding the little girl to not come out her room until they return, order that she promised to follow.

When they exit into the hall, and to no one's surprise, Michael was standing right there, staring at their form. (Y/N) returns the stare for a moment, but instead of glaring daggers at the man, they simply scoff as they brush past him with a pitty gleam on their eyes.

Tsk, they are sad? Just look at him! Always trying to insert himself and be part of their every single interaction... That is sad...

Actually sad...

(Y/N) glances back before going through the front door, well aware that Michael followed them, he always does... The two lock eyes, though (Y/N)'s expression was hard to decipher.

—"I'll be back in a little while, you... Well, you already know your part of the deal."— you give a little shrug and finally exit the house.

When their car left, Michael remained in place next to the window, just staring and watching. Though (Y/N) said more than ones that he's allowed to do whatever, he doesn't really feel like doing anything. Sure, he can take a book, watch TV, eat one of (S/N)'s sweets... But... It doesn't feel as special as when (Y/N) is around, and their sister definetely won't appreciate the last one.

The sound of little and hurried footsteps got his attention, yet he made no movements, already knowing who it is. He could hear some little grunts and huffs come from the kitchen, as if the girl is struggling with something. He allows it to continue for a little while but eventually makes his way to the kitchen, both curious to see what (S/N) is up to and to make sure she doesn't do anything silly, after all, kids aren't the most brilliant most of the time.

When Michael entered the kitchen, he was met with (S/N) attempring to get something from the upper shelf. She was holding her dino-grabber toy, using it to get whatever item she so desperately wanted, which would slip away and further into the shelf with each grab.

—"Come ooon, you 'dingus' thing."— she groans under her breath, probably not even knowing what 'disgus' means.

Michael silently observes the girl, she was so concentrated in her little mission that she didn't even notice him get progressively closer until standing right behind her.

When the item slipped so far that she couldn't even grab it with the toy, she lets out a frustrated groan and was about to climb the counter, but instead lets out a squeak when suddenly a large arm appeared above her. (S/N) instinctively backs away and presses herself into the kitchen counter as she shields herself with the toy.

—"S-Sorry! I'm so sorry for disturbing you! I- I got hungry and- a-and wanted to grab a poptart!"— she hurriedly says as she squeezes her eyes shut, as if expecting some severe punishment.

However, all she hears is faint rattle of something inside of a container and then a low grunt. She opens one eye and is met with Michael holding the whole box of poptarts in his hand and extending it towards her. A sense of dejavu invaded (S/N), flashbacks of their first meeting flashed before her eyes and the same sense of dread and danger formed inside of her, but this time she won't run away. She promised (Y/N) to stay strong, she will simply grab the stupid dessert and angrily look at him, just like (Y/N) always does!

But when she reached out and looked up at his masked face, her bravery dissolved like sugar in water. Michael just looks so big and intimidating all of the sudden-... His figure resembling so much the monster a child would imagine hidding in their closet. But still, the girl manages to tame her fears and take the box with her shaky hands.

—"I..."— she shrinks a bit. —"Thank you!"— she hurriedly exclaims before making a run out of the kitchen.

Michael merely looks at her direction, though he felt a small disappointment that the little girl was still so afraid of him, he can't really blame her or do anything about it, anything but to be grateful for this little interaction.

However...

—"Psst..."—

He only tilts his head at the little noise and (S/N)'s figure peeking out from the doorway.

—"Humm..."— she hesitates to speak at first. —"Do... Do you promise not to tell (Y/N) I left my room? They'll give me the scold of my life if they find out!"—

The man remains still for a little while, but eventually breaks his stillness with a little nod.

—"So is that a promise?"—

Another nod, which caused (S/N) to smile.

—"Thank you. Hey, we're almost like partners in crime! Doing forbiden stuff and then covering each other's back!"— she giggles at the thought and runs away into her room right after.

And ones again, Michael was left alone, but his time he was left with a warm feeling that made his chest feel both light and on ease. He's not sure what this emotion is, but he remembers feeling it in his childhood sometimes, mainly when he managed to make Angel smile with his own childish shenanigans, he always felt like a hero back then.

Now... It's hard to call him a hero, a monster or devil are more suitable names, but right now, for ones and after a long long time...

He didn't feel like one...

. . .

The rest of the day went like many previous ones (Y/N) returned, they nearly cried of relief that (S/N) was okay and wasn't hurt. And just like promised, no one told them about the little interaction the girl and the man had.

After the 'story-time session' ended and the little girl was asleep, (Y/N) returned to their usual spot next to their sister's room, though to their surprise, Michael wasn't in the hall waiting for them like he usually does... Nevertheless, that didn't stop them from taking their spot and wait, they knew he would come, he always does...

At this point they have no clue what his motives are, this doesn't seem like a simple paranoia of them contacting the authorities anymore, or a simple desire to be a jerk. Whatever enmity is going between them is something deeper, something more personal and sick, it's like this man is obsessed with them, but what kind of obsession? They don't know... And maybe don't want to know...

Eventually, the masked man does return to his spot but was met with a completely different scene. Yes, (Y/N) was there, but so was (S/N), who's gently putting a warm fluffly dinosaur blanket ot her sibling's sleeping form, doing her best to make it as cozy as possible. The little girl had a concerned expression, she knew that (Y/N) had barely slept due to the fear and worry of Michael doing something to her, the dark circles and the pale tone on their face only proving the unhealthy and tired state of her sibling.

It's a miracle that the girl didn't scream at the sight of Michael's giant figure and white mask staring at her from the dark, most likely the head tilt gave his identity away.

—"{S-Sorry.}"— she whispers, shifting from foot to foot with a guilty expression. —"{I know it's past my bed time, but I swear I can't fall asleep no matter how hard I try! I wanted to ask (Y/N) if we could watch something on their computer but...}"— she glances at your sleeping form.

Michael makes no movements, he's not quite sure why the girl is explaining herself to him, it's not like he will scold her, quite the opposite, it's really loable of her to take care of her sibling no matter what.

(S/N) then glances at the man, again hesitating to speak.

—"{Huummm... Do you just stay and stand there every night?}"—

Michael doesn't move at first, but then gives a little nod.

—"{All night?}"—

Another nod.

—"{Do you even sleep?}"— she furrows her brows a bit.

This time there is no answer.

The girl frowns a bit, sure Michael looks and acts freaky, but at the same time she feels sorry for him, something about his behavior is so sad and... Miserable. Is this why he's always tailing behind (Y/N)? Because they manage to make him feel happy and safe like they do with her? Or maybe because he wants to remember and feel how it's like to have an awesome and loving sibling? Or... Maybe he is just a big evil jerk that want's to do something bad to them... There's only one way to find out which one is the case...

—"{Michael?}"—

He tilts his head.

—"{Do... Do you... Do you want to hurt (Y/N)?}"—

A heavy silence falls upon them, even Michael's breathing was inaudible. (S/N) couldn't tell what's going on inside of his mind. Is he thinking? Is he annoyed? Waiting for her to drop the question or ask something else? Due to the lack of reaction, the girl starts to hesitate about her question and if she even wants to know the answer, what if he says 'yes' and kills both of them? (Y/N) said how cruel Michael can be, so sure he won't hesitate to hurt them.

Eventually, she recieves her answer; a shake of his head.

Relief flushes through (S/N), though that answer sparked another question...

—"{Then... Then why do you always follow them?... Do you feel... Lonely?}"—

Another wave of silence, but this one is less heavy since Michael wasn't staring directly at her form, but at the floor instead. The subtle tilt of his head was enough to hint the deep thinking going in his mind. And is right, Michael is thinking quite a lot. He stopped bothering to understand his obsession with (Y/N) and wouldn't think too much about following them, he just did it. But now... Now that he's forced to think about it for the first time, he realized it no longer feels like part of his unholy fixation on them, it feels more... He's not sure, but when he's with them he feels...

He nods slowly, his shoulders slump a bit after that.

(S/N) frowns sadly, her childish innocent mind quickly forgetting the things this man commited, maybe he isn't that bad, after all, (Y/N) told her how hard and unfair life was towards Michael, so... Maybe, if (Y/N) and her are kinder to him, maybe, just maybe, he'll be kinder to them too?...

—"{Michael...}"— she quietly says as she begin to walk towards him.

The girl stops right in front of his tall frame, the man tilts his head when she motions him to crouch down, but eventually he does. That's when, and without any warning, (S/N) wraps her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. The sudden contact made the man freeze completely, but he makes no effort to push the girl away. After a couple of solid minutes, his body starts to relax as he gives in into the little yet affectionate embrace.

The girl then leans closer to his ear, well, his mask's ear, but he sure heard her whisper...

—"{It's okay... I can be your friend.}"—

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #slasher x reader #gn reader #halloween

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lorimnnn · 2 years

Text

Mine (Michel Myers x AFAB!Reader)

summary: before Michael was ever ‘The Shape’ of Haddonfield, he was just a boy. he was a boy in love with the girl across the road, his sister’s best friend--- the only girl to show him kindness, love and warmth. you.

Basically, Michael falls in love with his sister’s best friend at 6, who sometimes played emergency babysitter especially when Judith was fooling around with her bf. He clings to those memories growing up in the asylum until the day he breaks out, where he decides the first thing he wants to do is find you and keep you, your sunshine only for him. Reader is super girly and feminine, which just fuels michael’s possessiveness.

cw: gore, violence, kidnapping, obsession, manhandling, possessiveness

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Michael remembers the first time he saw you in perfect, vivid detail.

When things get bad at the asylum, he closes his eyes and remembers, and sometimes it feels like he’s really there all over again. It’s like he’s four all over again, sitting on the sofa with the TV turned on, squashed between Mom and Dad. They still loved him, then. They act differently now, so remembering is like remembering different people.

But everything was different.

He remembers the door swinging open so roughly, it smacked the wall with a bang. In strolled Judith, and after, you. And he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Judith! I swear to-”

You, frowning at something Judith was saying, quickly schooling your expression when you noticed Michael and his parents. An uneasy smile settled over your face as you turned to his sister and glared that little bit. You looked so fierce. He’d wondered what you were warning her about with that look, because Judith had passed you a smile so smug back. A smile that said trouble of all sorts of alarming degrees, but that was Judith. And that trouble would later become Danny.

This is where Michael started to get a little distracted. It all starts to come back when he remembers-

Back to you.

You were so angelic back then. His parents had loved you. Judith, while often mistreating you and taking your kindness for granted, was protective of you for as much as her selfishness would allow. That wasn’t much. It wasn’t long until Danny burst into the picture and whenever you were available and their parents weren’t, he was kicked out into your house. But that wasn’t so bad. He liked your house.

And he liked you. Loved you.

Not in the way he loved his mom and dad, or the way he loved Judith, even if he was sometimes so mad at her he thought he hated her. But loved you. There were no words to describe it.

Anyway, the first time you came to his rescue he’d been sitting on that same sofa. Judith had told him to stay down there as she wondered upstairs with Danny. He didn’t like Danny. He dragged her upstairs and weird noises started punctuating the silence, and they sounded like they hurt, but the door was locked when he checked. And Judith had screamed at him to leave, so he had, and reassumed his spot on the sofa all over again.

You walked into the house a moment later. You must’ve heard her yelling.

The walls were thin.

“Hey, Mikey.” You knelt down in front of him. “Why don’t you hang out with me for a little bit?”

“Why?”

“It can’t be all that fun sitting down here all by yourself. Judy is having her own fun.” You casted a sharp glare at the ceiling. It creaked with movement in response. “Why don’t you come to mine? I still have all my toys from when I was a kid. I’ll let you play with them, or we can play together, if you want.”

He didn’t like toys too much. But he liked you.

So he let you take him by the hand and lead him out the door. Your hand was warm. So soft. It was all he could think about. He didn’t even process it until he was sitting on your pink bed, the fluffy pink duvet pillowing his sides. Everything was pink. Your walls. Your furniture. The toys you were talking about, which ended up being in a pink box you dragged out from under the bed and showed him. He was interested in them for about two seconds until he saw you approach your vanity and start poking and prodding at your face with those little tools.

You were pretty. So pretty.

And Michael was mesmerised.

When he thinks about it now, he realises that you were supposed to go out. You were all dolled up and prettier than usual, so pretty that it was almost dangerous. A hazard to other boys. Boys like Danny, maybe? No. No no no. You picked up your phone a minute later and dialed a number.

“Sorry, but we’ll have to reschedule! I know, I know. I’m sorry. Things came up. But I’m hanging out with my most favourite person in the world.” You winked. “Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that. But call me when you’re free next time, okay?”

Those words had meant nothing. All he’d heard was that he was your ‘favourite person in the world’, and he’d fixated on them, obsessed over them, replaying them over and over again until he was a hot, blushing mess. But all he could do was blush. He was your favourite person? You were his favourite person, too!

He ended up returning home when Danny left.

He ended up going back to your’s every time he came back. He didn’t care. He was delighted. You would watch movies with him and eat ice cream and cuddle under a blanket. He liked the last part best. Sometimes, he would pretend he was asleep just so you would let him lie there, close to your breast with his head tucked under your chin, your hands stroking through his hair.

“Mikey?”

“Mmh?”

“Nevermind, go to sleep. Long day, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. Life must be so stressful,” you would tease.

Michael would just play along with a very high-pitched, whiny, “yeah, I’m so tired.”

Each and every time, you would cancel all your plans to be with him. He could tell you were getting sick of it. He really, really hoped you weren’t sick of him.

Because he really liked your cuddles.

But all good things came to an end, didn’t they? Of course they did. Your mom just had to take you on a holiday and leave him all alone with Judith, who was just going to do what she would’ve done the first time. Ignore him. Choose Danny over him. And she did.

Well, then she died. Or he killed her. Same thing.

Then he went to Smith’s Grove. He didn’t really feel anything towards it. Not good, not bad. It was alright. It just was. The only time he ever missed home was at night when it got cold, and all he could think of was how much he missed being cuddled up in your arms. How warm you were. How soft you were when he leaned his head against you, the perfect pillow. He missed you so much.

He would think about you all the time.

As the years passed, he would think about how you changed. If you grew up at all. What you looked like now. If you would still love him like you did when he was a kid, before everything happened. Of course you would, wouldn’t you? He was your most favourite person in the world.

Right?

As he grew older, those thoughts descended into uglier ones. Not once did he think of killing you, so no, no that type of ugly. But ugly in ways that sapped at the last of his shame, his sanity, what was left of his fractured humanity. He was sixteen when he first wondered if you would like doing with him what Judith used to do with her boyfriend. He was sixteen when he first touched himself to the thought of you, his movements clumsy and inexperienced. Grinding his hips into the bed when you possessed his dreams, palming himself desperately when he was reminded of you at random, inopportune times. Who cared who watched? Who cared who saw?

All he wanted was you.

According to everyone else, he was incapable of emotion, let alone sexual desire. Those were two things he knew that nobody would dare to associate with him. And they weren’t wrong. He wasn’t capable of emotion. He wasn’t capable of sexual desire. That was on a general basis, anyway.

But you weren’t everyone else. You were you.

And he wanted you.

But that was the thing. As he aged, he was beginning to realise that if he really wanted something, he could have it. It was all so easy.

And he would have you.

Haddonfield is... Well. It has memories.

Maybe it isn’t your wisest idea to move back, after all that happened. Losing your best friend. The little boy you used to babysit sometimes turning out to be the culprit behind her sudden death. Sometimes you blamed yourself for it.

The police had said it’d been coming. He probably felt neglected. Lonely.

If you hadn’t gone with your mom on that holiday...

Ugh. Ew.

You hate having sombre thoughts like that. Does it help you’re cleaning out your mom’s place after she passed? No, it really doesn’t. But nobody else was going to do it. Fuckers. And they had the audacity to say that they loved her, cared for her, appreciated her. Seemed there’s no reason to keep up the pretences now that she’s not around to check up on it. While they may be in the mourning phases, it really isn’t an excuse. So are you.

Yet here you are.

The neighbourhood is basically deserted. It makes for eery quiet as you meander about, boxing up your mom’s old stuff and scouring through the little nooks and crannies where she liked to hide things. Sometimes it feels like you’re breathing too hard. Moving too loudly. Everything feels like too much. Maybe you’d cry if you had the energy to.

Now, this place is... It just is. And it isn’t. You realise maybe you’re the only one who came in not because you’re the least cowardly, but the most brave.

Because this is not just the place your mum died. Not just the neighbourhood where once upon a time, a little boy committed his first act of insanity. It’s the place where just a few months ago, Michael Myers was taken back to the Sanitarium after a Halloween spree. There was no telling when he’d come back. It all seems so random, the motivation too vague to pick out, his acts too gruesome to discuss. As someone who knew him, it’s nothing short of a bad idea to be around. But it’s for your mom.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You were in the bar when the crowd silenced, and the news boomed into the room with chilling fervor.

‘Breaking news, clinically insane serial killer Michael Myers, nicknamed ‘The Shape of Haddonfield’, has escaped for the second time from Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. Five found dead and severely mutilated. While his predicted path is unclear, residents of Haddonfield are warned to be cautious and call the authorities immediately if any suspicious behaviour is seen. Police will be on high alert. Stay safe.’

You knew in that moment that you were so, so fucked. Somehow you also decided that would have been the best moment to drink yourself stupid, hook up with some other blackout drunk fellow, and pretend none of that happened.

It’s been a week since the announcement. Police have been patrolling the streets. More than once you’ve received a few knocks on the door, asking if you’ve seen or heard anything. Those come around almost everyday, since you live right across where he used to. Every time, you say the same thing.

‘No. I’m just here for my mom. I’ll be out soon enough.’

You’re lying. You’re lying through your teeth.

Logically, you know you should leave. He’ll come back for Haddonfield. You know it. Everyone knows it. There’s no reason for him not to.

And he’ll come back for that house. The one across yours.

He might even come back for you.

But winning over your logic side is the stupid part of you that denies it. That still can’t believe that little boy became that horrid man, when just days before he killed Judith he was sleeping against your chest watching cartoons on the TV. Putting makeup on his face because he wanted to do what you were doing. Watching you doll yourself up each and every time with red-faced admiration. He’d been so innocent.

It’s just... It’s inconceivable that he became whatever he is. A monster. A nightmare. Something of both.

So maybe it isn’t really denial that he’s coming. More so denial that he won’t touch you.

And it’s so arrogant, and it’s so selfish, because you’ve seen his picture on the TV and he’s nothing short of terrifying.

It’s your arrogance and selfishness that you cling to when you hear the floorboards creak behind you.

---

GUYS I POSTED THIS LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES AGO, LIKE DUDE OKAY OKAY PART 2 COMING SOON

since it’s a side blog i can’t reply to ur notes, if you drop your name in tho i can tag you for when pt 2 is out! (either that or follow hehehehehee)

BUT Y’ALL OMFG-

also pls reblog! It really helps boost my post!

:)))) <3

#michael myers #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #michael myers x y/n #slasher #slashers #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #halloween #halloween kills

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