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s3thwrit3sstuff · 11 months

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❝ Take my soul (need control) ❞

slashers dating slasher reader | erratic!slasher!male!reader | fluff, smut | graphic description of violence, brief mention of animal cruelty in Brahms H. section, mentions of nsfw things |

as a preface, (Y/N) is implied to be erratic and unhinged as a slasher. their s/o's are the only ones who can calm them.

Amanda Young (Saw) -

You didn't fit in her future.

At least, that's what Amanda's initials thoughts are when you two stared down each other from across the parking lot, panting as you held your weapons.

She's heard of you through the news. The infamous (slasher name), the monster that lurks in the shadows and savagely crushes anyone who had the misfortune of wounding up as their victim.

Your methods were unlike hers. Not calculated, not planned, not meticulous - completely erratic, like a hurricane.

But she needs the man that one of you has knocked out in your scuffle. While you? You just saw him walking past you while he was making his way to his car and decided he'd die tonight. She stiffens and reaches back for the gun she brings for emergencies as you straighten up but finds herself bewildered as you begin laughing maniacally.

"Have 'im, Ms Piggy" She sees your grip loosen on your weapon and her fingers uncurl from the handle of the gun. "Ya' clearly need 'im more than I do" and just like that, you're gone. The only thing she hears is her own breathing and her racing heartbeat.

Amanda is feverish about finding you. She reads everything she can and scours wannabe psychos and sociopaths' blogs dedicated to your crimes. (slasher name) becomes an obsession.

When you meet again, you find 'Miss Piggy' eyeing the interiors of your home. She's unsure of what she feels as she imagines you moving about the space but she smiles when you begin chuckling like a hyena and reach for the knife you had on you.

"I need your help, (Y/N)"

"Will it be fun?"

Amanda's smiling under her mask. She's seen your research of her work. The newspaper clippings, paint (or blood) of your theories on the wall (among other 'deranged' scribbles) you were familiar with her.

"Wouldn't have asked if it wasn't".

Fun was an understatement. You were a wildcard, someone that could cost her this entire game but the carnage you spread was so beautiful...she wasn't sure if any device or game she sets up could compare.

You two end up working with each other more and more. Your unpredictability makes the FBI tear their hairs out - you were, ironically, the balance she needed in her scales.

When you two confess to each other, you're soaked in someone else's blood. She approaches you from behind, watching your shoulders and chest rise and fall.

You lick the blood from your lips, your smile stretching over your cheeks looking almost uncomfortable.

Her eyes flick to your lips then up to your eyes.

"Come 'ere, Miss Piggy" she leans in and you meet her halfway.

Most would argue that you would be the worst guy to be in a relationship with.

They're wrong.

Amanda knows the ins and outs of your twisted heart because you bare it to her as it beats for her in your palm.

She doesn't take advantage of it. Tests it? Sure, just to feel more secure, but never to the point where you doubt her love for her.

Amanda thinks your ingenuity and creative mind is her favourite part of you (among other things).

You've jokingly told her she could split your skull open to get those ideas fresh - she giggles and you gather her in your arms.

Amanda leaves the window of your bathroom unlocked. Just for you. She knows you need to 'hunt' sometimes and doesn't discourage it (though she makes sure you know her targets so you don't end up killing them). When you crawl back home, you make sure to shower first before you shuffle back into bed.

She tends to your wounds, scolding you only if she knows you could've avoided it in the first place. "More fun that way, 'Manda" she huffs "So you'd leave me forever just for more fun?"

She knows you're pretty screwed up in that brain box of yours, she's not above manipulating you to bend to her whims but she only ever does it out of love, (Y/N)!

She's highly protective of you. She'll ensure your identity is safe if there are any loose ends during your 'hunts'.

She can't lose you. You can't lose her. Both of you are monsters. Both of you belong together - can't live without the other.

If a victim manages to get an upper hand on either of you God help them.

The second one of you is in danger, the other only sees red.

You've literally taken several bullets for Amanda.

She was so gentle with you that night. Her kisses silent apologies. Seeing her cry as she looks down at you makes you move to sit - despite the pain and her protests. Her breath hitched as your tongue slithers in, Amanda's lips warmed by yours.

"You're hurt, (Y/N)" "Don't care, need you"

"You're hurt because of me!" her yell makes you tilt your head "I should've been more careful!" she continues.

"I want you, Amanda" you whine, cupping her weeping face in your hands. "I'll want you even if you hurt me, even if it kills me. Don't say no to me, Piggy?"

The nickname wins her over.

By the way, she calls you Froggy or Kermit (Kermy too!). It's cute.

(She buys green and pink items because they remind her of the two of you and you've gifted her two hearts that you'd cut in half, coloured pink and green and sowed together. She placed the gift on the desk she works on, it's displayed in a dome glass case and she fights back a smile every time she lays eyes on it)

The satisfaction she gets when victims scream as they spot you in the same room as them. Just so fucking proud of her killing machine.

When you go overboard, if the emotions get too overwhelming for you and you only think of how to get rid of the pain - Amanda grips the nape of your neck and pushes you onto your knees.

You bow because it's her. You breathe because it's her.

"(slasher name)" Your eye twitches, gaze still floating around the room but she knows she has your attention.

"You all there, Kermy?"

"I'm right here, Piggy".

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) -

Initially, you'd taken the babysitting job as a cover to lay low. Things were getting heated in (insert wherever you're from) and this secluded manor was perfect.

The sight of the doll didn't make you falter. Hey, you got a few screws loose yourself so you didn't judge the Heelshires for how they cope.

Brahms was intrigued by you from the second he laid his eyes on you. The way you instantly gathered the doll in your arms without an ounce of judgement makes butterflies flutter.

He is elated to know that there's a chance you won't freak out if you see him.

He quickly finds out you're not exactly the Average Joe.

You brought the rat traps inside, he inches closer to the hole in the wall when you suddenly froze. The rat squeaks furiously and your non-dominant hand idly reaches for the drawers. Brahms did not expect you to pull out a meat tenderizer.

There's a mix of emotions in the boy as he skitters to his room. He laid awake that night, a part of him wondering if you were just like him and the other feeling guilt at the excitement.

His parents tried their best to nurture him into a decent man. Even if it didn't work, their voices still linger in his head but when he sees the tender way you cradle the porcelain extension of himself the next morning? Your voice sickly sweet, lips pressing into the cold temple of the doll?

Brahms craves you.

Malcolm, poor, stupid, Malcolm.

Brahms wasn't the only one that wanted him gone. The only reason you reciprocated his advances was to fulfil a different type of lust.

(Malcolm wasn't your type anyways.)

Brahms's nails nearly break as he digs them in the wood of the walls, breath labouring as anger consumes him. Malcolm was on top of you, unworthy hands gripping at you like you were some common whore.

He's moved from behind the walls to the closet when you're on top of him. The grip of the 'missing' meat tenderizer was so tight his hand was trembling.

Malcolm yells in pain and Brahm pauses as he watches you laugh in pure delight as you dig your thumbs inside Malcolm's eye sockets.

You turn to him, smile still etched on your features and Brahms gulps as you bring your thumb to your mouth to suck the blood and gore clean.

"Cute mask"

The kitchen utensil drops with a comical 'THUD!' while you two stare at each other.

Your relationship falls into a steady, domestic, pace much quicker than both of you anticipated. How could they not? The secluded land was beautiful when the weather wasn't so dreary. Even if it was, the grand fireplaces were extremely nice to cosy up next to. It's hard NOT to fall deeper and deeper into each other when everything was so romantic.

Malcolm's death was covered up thanks to the wild animals on the land. Brahms watches from the window as you whistle, beckoning the scavengers as you spread a few of Malcolm's innards around.

You tell him everything about your kills. Effectively burying his parent's voice in his head as you sink him deeper and deeper into your hell.

"You're beautiful just like this, Brahmsy" he pants from beneath the mask and you place a kiss on those cold lips. "They won't understand like I do, we're meant to be like this so we can find each other" his pupils are so blown out as he stares up at you.

"You're my good boy, Brahms, forever and always. Okay?"

"Okay, (Y/N)". Your smile was sculpted by the king of hell himself and Brahm's eyes roll back as you move your hips.

Brahms feels vindicated and free. For once, guilt doesn't whisper accusingly in his shadow. Instead, there's you.

Your routines overlap his. Your hands pull him from the darkness. Your voice haunts him every second of every day.

The bodies pile up in the woods. The rats are scarce with the sudden spike of scavengers drawn to the Heelshire manor.

You love spoiling him with victims, love watching him release his creativity and curiosity. He's so good with his hands and all that raw strength? It's not an odd sight for you to make love in the showers after 'play time' was done.

He loves helping you freak the shit out of your victims, pretending to be the ghost in the walls and making them so paranoid they think they've gone crazy.

When they're dealt with, Brahms often makes snacks for the both of you.

Oh! He makes a mask for you. To show his love and for you to wear when you need it.

He doesn't like that you leave the manor. It causes BIG arguments. Vintage vases flying to the wall kind of arguments. But you were a bloodthirsty hound, you needed to stretch your legs.

He'll be sullen but he gets over it. This routine annoys the shit out of both of you though but over time, he learns you need it just as much as he needs his quiet times.

He welcomes you when you get home, lifting his mask to kiss you and you giggle as your hands slide up his wifebeater.

"Miss me, big boy?"

"Always" he pouts.

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) -

Corey knew before you did.

You were just like him. The darkness spills from your eyes as you tell him how the front of your car got wrecked.

"A deer scared you?" he wipes his hands on the front of his uniform, turning to you as you nod and stroke the large dents and scratches on your hood. "Swerved into the woods, didn't hit a tree head-on - Thank God, right?" Corey nods.

He pretends not to see the splatter of blood and hoses down the hair and chunks of flesh from your tires.

Guessed you missed a spot, hm?

He's good at being undetected. People...people avoid him nowadays.

You don't have to ask around much to learn about the cute, outcasted, mechanic's past. You find it all a bit pathetic. These people were really that terrified of him over what sounded like an honest mistake?

Corey wonders why you've gone to Allen's family's abandoned house during his nightly routine of stalking you.

He watches you from the windows, knife in hand though with no real intent of using it...on you anyways. Blood had already stained the blade.

You pause at the sight of dried blood and gaze up the spiralling staircase. Much to his chagrin, you lay down and place your head right on the bloodstain.

Your laughter makes blood pool under the skin of his cheeks. Your hands splay out to your side and you're laughing so hard your sides hurt, Corey finds himself pressing a hand to the window and wishes he was right beside you.

The next day, Corey's parked right out of the supermarket just as you come out. He grins boyishly and you ask if he needs anything. He holds himself back from saying "you" and instead asks if you're free tonight.

You don't expect him to be so forward but you're intrigued. So you ask if he'll be the one to pick you up (considering your car is still in his garage) and Corey pretends to be interested as you write down your address as he imprints the sight of your semi-focused expression. He already knows where you live but you don't have to worry about that, (Y/N).

The night was perfect from the get-go. Your warmth pressed against his back as he drove the two of you to a bar that was further away than usual but was the only one he could go to without people whispering — you don't mind.

Then drinks got involved and suddenly you're dancing with him, some shitty pop song playing over shitty speakers but neither of you cared.

Then reality came crashing in. Someone had loudly — drunkenly — mentioned Corey's past. Everyone gives him looks and although he could care less he pretends to by pulling you out of the bar.

"Corey, wait" he's too drunk to drive and his hands are itching to feel blood so he pauses as you chuckle the command out. "Stay here, baby" The nickname makes his heart flutter and he nods as he leans against his bike. When you disappear back into the bar — probably left something, he thought — he curses and tries his hardest not to storm in and strangle the life out of that asshole who ruined his date and the closest bar he could go to without reproachful glares.

He contemplates the thought of moving away from Haddonfield with you when his phone rings. It's you. For a second, he thinks you're in trouble but when he answers you're breathless pants of glee tells him otherwise.

"Come to the back, Corey".

The sight that greets him is the asshole with a bleeding mouth and a broken nose. The burst veins in his eyes and the wooden plank that you held loosely in your arm paint a clear picture.

"Night's still young, baby" you muse as you make a faux swing that makes the man whimper from where he was sprawled on the ground. "I know you wanna" Your purr makes Corey shudder.

The Cheshire grin on your face is absolutely maniacal as Corey sheds his jacket and pulls out the pocket knife he kept in his back pocket.

The same one you'd felt against your thighs when you were riding his bike.

Haddonfield was lucky the two of you decided to spread your chaos elsewhere because the two of you were insatiable.

The fact that neither of you stayed in one city for too long also didn't help. You were basically doing an American-wide murder spree.

And Corey would not have it any other way.

You were just like him — wilder, sure, but you understood him in ways no one else had ever done.

"Fuck, baby" Corey has you on the bed of some engineer whose blood was currently being used as lube. The man's body was somewhere in the room but Corey barely gave a shit when you're looking down at him with that toothy grin that makes your eyes twinkle with bloodlust. "Mm, you feel so fuckin' good, Corey".

Somehow you two decide to settle down in a quiet town. Corey going under a different name as he works at a garage. Everybody around you thinks you guys are the sweetest couple — cooing at how young you are and sighing about young love.

They don't know that your weekend trips are spent with blood, guts, and sex. Two maniacs completely enamoured with one another.

"Baby, look" Corey eyes the silver band on your finger. Then the other one is on your palm as you extend it to him. You drop the chopped-off hand of the man the both of you had just killed and inched closer and closer.

"Pretty, hm?" he nods "Till death do us part" At that, he scoffs and pulls you in closer.

"Not even Death can keep us apart, (Y/N) (L/N)" he brushes the tip of your noses together and plants a bloody kiss but your giggle cuts it short.

"Don't you mean, (Y/N) Cunningham-(L/N)?" Corey's grin is nothing short of loving and he claims your lips again.

OG!Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) -

To be completely honest, the way you two met was a blur. Before you met Michael Myers your life had little to no meaning.

When he decided to break into your family home one night, he jump-starts everything. He had you pinned on the dining table, his mask already coated with the blood of your kin. Your feeble attempts at escaping his inhumanely strong grip leave you gasping for breath and you're sure that the building pressure in your head isn't a good sign.

But when you stare into Michael's eyes a sudden force tugs your lips apart into a bloody smile. Your laughter is nothing but strained gasps and squeaks and it makes Michael's grip falter enough for you to finally grasp the make-shift stake beside you (from the chair he'd thrown your way) and drive it into his shoulder.

Michael staggers and without missing a beat, you're lunging at him again. No fear, no hesitation, and frankly, no thoughts behind such a brash action.

The force of your body slamming into him throws his momentum off but he feels something in his chest suddenly beat as your shrill laughter fills his ears.

You, with your wild hair and wilder eyes...

Michael craved you.

He knocks you out.

Then, he watches you. From your recovery in the hospital to the 'safehouse' you were placed in. The detectives thought this could be their chance — to finally catch Michael Myers as he 'finishes you off'.

Michael knows you're done with your kill just from the shift in the air. He enters the safehouse and stares at the splatters of blood and bullet holes in the drywall. He follows the sounds of your laughter and finds you in the dining room in a familiar pose.

You have the detective pinned under you, fingers crushing his larynx as he weakly fights back against you. Michael waits politely, when you're done he moves to the back door and you wordlessly follow.

Eating rats was new but strangely enough the act of catching them was a great bonding activity. Your jokes about meeting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles — and eating them — fly over Michael's head but his amused silence tells you he doesn't mind your babbles.

He learns fairly quickly that, unlike his silent, effortlessly, intimidating self, you're erratic, loud and pumped with energy when you're hunting.

He doesn't dislike it but it takes some getting used to.

You don't always go on hunts together but when you do he appreciates your gore-y creativity.

The Shape of Haddonfield now has Hellhound by his side — isn't that a cute nickname for yourself, (Y/N)?

While victims shit themselves at the sight of Michael, his stony demeanour is what makes him all the more Boogeyman-worthy. He feels inhuman. That both terrifies and comforts some — but you?

You're entirely too human. Your glee, your rambles as you stab your victims, you're laughter full of excitement.

"Mikey" he glances your way as your fingers stroke up the neck of his mask. Here you were, sprawled all over Michael Myer's lap like a goddamn kitten. You lean up and kiss his rubbery lips, he hums as your tongue licks his mask and pushes you back just enough to lift his mask above his nose.

"Thank you, Mikey" you chuckle, letting him taste the romantic spaghetti dinner you two had helped yourselves to after murdering the old couple.

Their home was isolated enough, that both of you could enjoy living above ground for a few days.

"You taste so good, Mikey" The grip on your waist makes that addictively sweet laughter bubble in your throat.

RZ!Michael Myers (Halloween (2007 - 2009))-

You were the only good thing in his god-forsaken life.

The mental institution had made a big mistake in housing two monsters — especially when those monsters were always so drawn towards each other.

No matter what punishments they inflicted on either of you for sharing glances. It did little to stop this undeniable, instinctual, need to be close to one another.

Initially, the doctors had thought Michael's curiosity was a good sign. A sign that he was showing interest in making friends. Even if you were less than ideal in terms of 'fixing' him considering your own streak of homicide (that landed you in this shithole in the first place) but they were desperate.

So, they allowed controlled meetings. Michael's stare terrified others but you seemed to thrive under his attention.

Guards had reached out to pull you back as you climbed the table and got right up in Michael's face but he is as still as a statue as you carefully brush his long locks of blonde hair back.

"There you are, pretty boy" and with those words and your eyes that reflect back his darkened soul right back at him — Michael is smitten.

When he escapes, he finds you.

When he enacts his revenge, you're the shadow that devours any sacrificial lambs that managed to stray from his grasp.

Oh, he's all yours.

Michael swears that if you're not near him the air feels thinner.

He relishes in the way you mercilessly slaughter anyone in your way — he doesn't ask why you kill but knows that whatever the answer he'll support his batshit insane boyfriend.

"Is this for me?" he nods, showing you the new mask he'd created. You smile warmly, sitting across from him as you carefully place the mask on your face.

"How do I look, pretty boy?"

He places his large hand on your thighs and begins tapping. You encourage him with careful strokes to his bicep.

.--. .-. . - - -.--

Your grin makes his heart flutter. "Thank you, baby" and you reward your darling lover with a kiss which makes him grunt at the mask that blocks him from properly kissing you.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) -

They had an inkling you were just like them.

Billy says it's the way your eyes become devoid of any light when you're angry. While Stu tells you it's the way you lick the blood from your split lip and smile as you lunge at the opposing team's captain.

(Y/N) (L/N), an athlete of their school.

Meanwhile, to his boyfriends, he's an absolutely merciless murderer.

Everyone sort of avoids you. Even your coach rarely gets in your face to yell at you the way he does at everyone else. It baffles people that Billy and Stu are your lovers.

For them though? It's the perfect match.

You're not Ghostface, however, (slasher name) is always spotted with Ghostface.

A maniac with brute strength that takes hits and stabs and even bullets without going down.

Those who did live to tell the tale of an encounter with (slasher name) and Ghostface mutter that hurting Ghostface? Was a big fucking mistake if (slasher name) is there to witness it.

You're the kind of guy to body slam someone out a second-storey window and just walk it off while the victim who cushioned your fall is wheezing their last breath.

Billy reprimands your unnecessary displays of brutality while Stu simply gushes about how cool it was. They both tend to your wounds, kissing and massaging anything that hurts.

Ghostface is equally as protective of you, make no mistake, even if they're not throwing a chair at a victim they will ensure you don't actually get yourself killed in your bloodlust.

Stu has pulled a gun and shot someone in the face when they threatened to do the same to you.

Billy rushes to the two of you upon hearing gunshots but groans in relief as he sees you making out with Stu mere inches away from the body.

"Hey! Earth to perverts! Time to scram!" Billy is pulled into the make-out session by you and he all but melts under your hold.

"Want you. Now" Stu laughs at your huffy tone but eagerly circles his hands around your waist while you pull Billy closer to your front.

Beauregard 'Bo' Sinclair (House of Wax) -

A new victim of Ambrose? That's what you are, right?

Wrong.

You'd been a solo traveller that coincidentally got grouped up with another group of travellers. You seemed normal enough, Bo thinks as he spots you making your way to his garage.

Cute and handsome, a darn shame you'd have to die but at least Vincent will immortalize your beauty.

He notices that you're not close with the others. When he asks, you explain your vehicles had broken down near each other so Lester rounded up all of you together.

You lean on the hood of the car he was clearly working on, jutting your hips and looking impressed. He shamelessly takes in the curve of your butt before putting on a charming Southern smile when you glance back at him.

"Good with your hands, hm?" Bo feels blood travel south but he just chuckles. The conversation is cut short by the others clearing their throats.

When he kills the group one by one, he immediately notices that you seem excited at the violence he spreads. You don't scream or yelp but you're helping him.

At first, he thinks you're just saving your ass from getting sliced down when you push someone in front of you. But while the others run, you're moaning as he's thrusting the blade repeatedly into the man's body.

He pants as you two make eye contact, gulping he pulls the blade out and offers it to you.

"Fuckin' finally" you coo, pressing a bloody kiss on his cheek before you slip to hunt the others down.

His brothers are definitely confused by his decision to let you stay as a real residence of Ambrose but after another group rolls in you prove your worth to them.

Between heated moments under the sheets and lip-locking with Bo, you confess that the reason you ended up at Ambrose was that the police were hot on your tail.

"It's fate," you say as you trace circles on his chest. "We were meant to meet, to be family" he would usually scoff at such a notion but the way you fit into his deranged life so easily...

"It's something", he gruffs out, watching as you take the lighter from his hand to light the cigarette between his lips. "Whatever it is, it brought you to me so"

"Aww, Bo, you gettin' sappy on me?" your teasing makes him threaten to shove the cigarette in your mouth but you just laugh it off.

"Love ya', Bo" he averts his eyes but mumbles.

"Love you too..."

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) -

Instead of catching Bo's eyes, it's Vincent's heart that you grasp.

A solo traveller that somehow got roped in with another group, a victim of circumstance is what Vincent would have called you.

But instead, you've ruthlessly wormed your way inside his heart.

While the others ran like headless chickens when Bo started killing, you were dragged by another girl to hide in the Sinclairs' house. Stupid move on her end really, but you were curious about their headquarters of sorts. So you follow, breathing raggedly to sell this whole 'helpless victim' façade.

You find the basement. Despite the chills that run down your spine from the scent of death (and wax) you convince her it'd be a good place to hide.

Vincent hears her as she shakily steps into his lair. He thinks she's the only one but finds it odd that she looks desperately over his shoulder as he slices her head off with a pair of garden shears.

Until he feels a blade pressed right at the base of his spine.

"You're pretty strong" Your eyes twinkle from the corner of his and he goes rigid as you dig the tip of the blade deeper. You reach to brush locks of his hair behind his ear, a growl raises from his throat but you shush him.

Your lips brush on the shell of his ear.

"I'll bring more of them here, I want to watch while you turn them into pieces of art".

Bo is feeling an inkling of worry at the sudden lack of victims. He rushes to see if they've decided to overwhelm Vincent and finds you swinging your feet while Vincent is organizing the bodies of the group.

Bo is distrustful. He thinks you've seduced his twin and while that is true, you've no bad intentions like he thinks you do.

Vincent is painfully awkward compared to your nonchalant energy. But it works, the two of you just work.

He scolds you when you get new wounds from the victims fighting back but it's a bit hypocritical when he does the same.

Though he prefers wax figures, he did dabble in oil paints again as he attempts to recreate the scene he sees of you demolishing victims.

A watcher, a stalker; an artist.

Vincent usually stays in the basement but ever since you came? When the hunt is on, he's watching you. Imprinting the image of your body shaking with muffled laughter as you pull your jaws away from the bleeding neck of a victim, spitting out their vocal cords with a satisfied hum.

"Vinnie" your coo makes him flinch but he walks out from the shadows as you beckon him with your hand. Your boyfriend stands in front of you, reaching to wipe some blood away from your cheek but really the only thing he does is move it around.

"Was that pretty, Vinnie?" he huffs through his nose and lifts your chin up so you stain his waxy lips with warm blood.

He pulls away to sign, 'Always beautifull'.

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) -

You rode with him on the way to Ambrose.

He's taken by your looks and feels a sense of pity and regrets that you'd be dead soon. Especially since you were the only one among the others that weren't a complete asshole to him.

"Ambrose, huh" he nods, tapping his steering wheel as his eyes flit between the road and you. "Must be pretty secluded, haven't even heard of it", he laughs and tells you it's because you aren't from around here.

"See ya'" he waves at you but you scan him from head to toe in a way that's not scrutinizing but lustful. He feels his cheeks warm, you nod to him as a goodbye before you turn to walk into the death trap that is Ambrose.

He's surprised to find you covered in blood and right outside his shack later that night. Jonesy growls near his heel but you were just sitting there on his porch, casually testing the weight of the hilt of a hatchet in your hands.

"Your brothers should use you more than a glorified Ferryman" he is confused but tense. His muscles are rigid like a snake coiling to bite.

Blood drips from the ends of your hair and nose, you place the hatchet down and crouch, beckoning Jonesy' with a sweet baby voice that has the poor pup confused between staying by Lester's side or sniffing you.

"I like Ambrose," you tell him, your eyes squished into an adorable crescent shape.

"Can I stay, Lester?"

His brothers aren't aware of you until at least a week. They were extremely distrustful of you, their baby brother was someone that they did not want to be harmed. Hence why he stays out of the nitty-gritty of it all.

When you show that you're just as protective of Lester, they approve of your relationship. Not that you would let their approval get in the way of your love for him anyways.

Your boyfriend has to get used to your sudden disappearances and reappearances.

And he has to learn how to stitch you up as well. He doesn't scold you though reminds you to be more careful but drinks up your stories of the victims being crushed under your foot.

Whoever manages to stray far enough from Ambrose to find Lester's shack will find themselves in an entirely different but just as torturous hell.

Jonesy enjoys the raw feed though.

"I gotta go" Lester laughs as you whine and drag him back to your side. "I gotta check if anyone's 'lost'" he reminds but you stubbornly shake your head.

"Can't leave me, I'm hurt and defenceless"

Yeah, Lester's seen you shove the end of a rake down someone's throat with a broken arm and a concussion all while laughing. You could protect yourself with the scrapes and boo-boos from the night before just fine.

Feeling yourself lose this battle, you press a kiss to the nape of his neck as he sits and it makes his breath hitch.

Your hands circle his waist and his head hangs low as you slip your fingers down the band of his underwear.

"Stay" you plead.

"Jesus H. Christ" he turns and you grin triumphantly as he kisses you.

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vikkirosko · 7 months

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🔪 RZ!Michael Myers x Reader Oneshot Unsanitary conditions 🎃

Michael always tried to keep his knife close to him even when he stayed in your house. However, this time he did not find the knife next to him. There was a trace of blood on the sofa that was on his knife, but the weapon itself was not there, which made him frown. He got up and went to the kitchen, where he expected to see you and he was not mistaken. You stood in the kitchen and washed the blood off his knife, humming a tune to yourself. Michael came up to you and tried to take his knife, but you wouldn't let him do it.

"I'll give it back to you soon."

Michael looked at you carefully while you continued to wash the knife. You didn't see his expression, but during the time that you were together, you were able to learn to understand him without words.

"Your knife was covered in blood, I decided to wash it,"

Michael reached for the knife again, but you were not going to give it away.

"Michael, I know how to handle a knife, don't worry, I cook food somehow"

He continued to stare at you intently. He didn't understand the reason why you were washing his knife. It was usually enough for him to wipe the blood, but you clearly had a different idea of cleanliness.

"I know you don't really care, but you can't know how safe it is that someone else's blood will get into the wound if you accidentally injure yourself, you can get blood poisoning or something else like that."

Michael looked at you in surprise. You've always been careful about health issues, but he didn't think you'd go that far. In his life, illness was the last thing he thought about, which is why you thought about it.

#Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Slashers Oneshots #Michael Myers #Michael Myers x Reader #Halloween #RZ!Michael Myers #RZ!Michael Myers x Reader

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des1gnersadness · 1 year

Note

Can you do brahms billy rz micheal and bubba giving male or ftm reader head?

Please 🙌 and thank you🤞

I currently do not write for Brahms so I had to exclude him from this, sorry about that!

(Decided to write these in head canon form with a little blurb after them)

Billy Lenz, RZ!Michael Myers, and Bubba Sawyer Giving ftm!reader head

Billy Lenz

He’s just so eager

It’s actually kinda scary to be honest

You were a bit hesitant at first, billy knew you were trans and that you didn’t have the biggest.. y’know

But billy didn’t care, he never did, and when he wanted you — he was going to have you

He’s the messiest guy when giving head, drool is just getting everywhere

You need to calm him down and clean his mouth before he even gets your pants off

“Billy, you’re practically ripping my pants off here.” You teased before you slid down slightly as Billy pulled your pants off — your boxers coming off also making you hiss slightly at the feeling of cold air on you. Billy mumbled incoherent, filthy things under his breath as he quickly began licking and sucking at you — his hand grabbing onto your thighs making you gasp which quickly turned into a moan at the feeling. Even though Billy was messy and wild, he knew how to get you off.

RZ!Michael Myers

Even though Michael was always intimidating, brooding, and dominant with you — he’s always wanted to please you

He never makes the first move

He just doesn’t

He needs to make sure that your in the mood first so then he knows it’s time for him to show just how much he cares for you

Honestly, Michael never cared that you were trans — so he didn’t care that you didn’t have a “normal” or “conventional” dick

He was going to give you head

Michael had gotten between your legs and groaned slightly as he took in the sight of you. His hair covered his face but you could see his lips part as he latched onto the head of your dick which instantly had you moaning. The sensation of his tongue made you squirm and his hands held you down making you arch into him, the smirk on his face was evident against you making you scoff before quickly being cut off by the feeling of Michael sucking your dick — “Michael…”

Bubba Sawyer

He isn’t as eager as Billy but he wants to please

He’s the least skilled — you being his only partner ever

He needs to be guided and praised to make sure he’s doing it right

Make sure to repay him afterwards cause he’ll be straining in his pants for a while if you don’t

And please, let him touch himself while he does — he can’t help it when seeing you naked

“Yeah, just like that Bubba.” You said with a dreamy smile on your face. Your hand was tangled in Bubbas hair as he kneeled in front of you — sucking and licking as you showed him. He palmed himself through his pants making you groan in pleasure, Bubba looked up at you and you nodded, “You’re doing such a good job Bubs.” He couldn’t help but slightly squeal as he began to suck and lick faster at you, bringing you closer to the edge.

#smut #x reader #slashers #slashers x male reader #70s #male reader #billy lenz x male reader #black christmas #billy lenz x reader #bubba sawyer x male reader #bubba sawyer #ftm!reader #bubba sawyer x reader #rz!michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #headcanons #blurb

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wallhusband · 2 years

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Keeping Michael

RZ!Michael Myers x Reader

Gender neutral reader.

Word count: 500~

Everyday I am grateful to be alive. He had chosen me, and then again chosen that I should live. Michael Myers. In a way I revered him. Like a vengeful god he could strike me down-snap my neck or rend my flesh to red pulp-but he didn't. He showed mercy. It was hard not to worship him for that alone.

I try not to think that way, but the emotions are etched into me. I can tell myself I should hate Michael. That he is a monster. Evil, even. But thinking that way changes nothing. When he brings blood onto my floors I clean them. When he bleeds from the poor soul who fell under his rage I bandage him. When he is cold and hungry I leave the spare key under the flower pot by the back door and wait for him.

At first I did it to survive. I did it to try and stay in spotlight of the good graces he has granted me. Now it's become a habit, I do what I do because it has always been done. The mind in the face of great uncertainty and danger latches onto what is familiar. Michael and I have a routine:

He leaves

He returns in the morning

I tell him to shower

His stained clothes are put to soak in hydrogen peroxide

I mop the floors

He comes out of the shower in lounge wear I bought him.

I disinfect and bandage his injuries.

I reheat him the rest of last night's dinner. He eats all of it. There's never any leftovers

We sit on the couch-I sit as far away from him as possible, he sits right next to me (our legs touch), and we watch television. He likes horror films and animal documentaries.

Rinse and repeat. Ad infinitum. It bothers me. It bothers me because I have carved a ledge out of the unknowable fragility that is housing Michael Myers. I have laid there so long the edges have worn away and become comfortable.

When he first tracked blood across the linoleum of my kitchen I vomited. He stared at me as I spit into the kitchen sink and rubbed tears from my stinging eyes. He left when I began to gargle water to stop the burn bile had left in my throat. I had to look up how to clean vomit. You cover it in baking soda and then scrape it off the floor with cardboard from amazon boxes you haven't thrown away yet. Then you disinfect.

I've gotten very good at disinfecting. Cleaning. I'm always cleaning after him. Trailing behind him with mops, scrub brushes, warm soapy water, and hydrogen peroxide. Oxygenated detergents break down blood best. I buy oxygen bleach off amazon, it's shipped to me every two weeks. Michael kills at least three nights a week. I have to keep track. Eventually he'll run out of people in Haddonfield...When that happens...I can only assume that I will be next.

#rz!michael myers x reader #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz halloween #michael myers #rz!michael myers #slasher fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fandom #slasher tag #slasher community #slasher fucker #wallhusband's fanfiction

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slash-me-please · 1 year

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I was wondering if you could do slashers (Brahms, Sinclair Brothers, RZ! Myers, Billy Loomis and more if you’d like) with a Gender neutral partner who age regresses (SFW) to deal with trauma? I’m just in love with soft slasher works

Sorry this took so long! Hopefully its a nice surprise :)

RZ!Michael

Growing up in an asylum essentially, he understands many different coping mechanisms. He's seen many of them- and this is pretty tame.

He'll let you sit on his lap and watch a movie, color, whatever you desire, for a couple hours before wandering off- but you think that might be the best you'll get out of him.

Sometimes he'll bring you back stuffed animals while he's out, they're always dirtied or ripped though- but you appreciate them anyways. You wonder if he found them this way or if they got this way from his doings.

Overall, he's supportive.

Brahms Heelshire

Hmm.

At first he's VERY reluctant.

Of course he understands, theres no doubt that he does. Brahms has spent most of his life doing the same thing. BUT, there can only be one, right?

The two of you begin to take turns as a caregiver, which is a large ask for Brahms- but he'd do anything for you.

Brahms is genuinely the best, he'll let you cuddle up next to him and then he'll read you something older than The Great Gatsby. Then he'll act confused when you have no clue what's going on.

During these sessions, he loves when you fall asleep on him, he'll encourage it by running his fingers through your hair.

This helps him heal too you know?

Vincent Sinclair

You'll have to explain it to him first, but he understands.

He'll end up making you little wax toys that you end up not wanting to play with because "they're too precious"

His favorite moments are when you lazily watch him, curled up with your favorite plushie. You're drifting off to sleep watching him sculpt another victim, and he hums a tune that you'd grown familiar with. Sometimes he'll reach down and rub your head, letting you know he loves you in his own way.

He'll play with you too, if you want to of course. But if Bo is anywhere in proximity, he has no clue what toys are anymore.

Bo Sinclair

He's a bit divided at first, the boys have had a conservative upbringing. Anything different or out of line was shunned. (Hypocritical, I know.)

He seems taken aback, but you see him growing onto the idea one night when you fell asleep on his lap. You were holding a small blanket and had it clutched between your fists- and for once you looked... content?

If this helped you, he was all for it. He won't tell you he is, but you get the gist of things when he comes home from the store with a bag full of lunchables. Good try Bo.

Billy Loomis

Asks you if you'll call him daddy. You insist its not sexual.

He'll chase you around his house, lifting you up and tickling you into a fit of laughter. He loves to light giggles you release while you're in this mood.

He's a softy at heart, always ends up baking or doing some sort of craft when you're like this.

If you're having an especially bad day, he'll rock you to sleep in his arms. But you have to compromise, he insists as he turns on Monster house.

You'll nod in agreement, nodding of to sleep in his arms.

#slasher x reader #horror x reader #michael myers x reader #rz!michael myers x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #billy loomis x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader

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thomas-hewitts-bf · 1 year

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!Request Rules!

who i write for

- thomas hewitt

- bubba sawyer

- jennifer check

- jason voorhees

- RZ micheal myers

- tiffany valentine

- charles lee ray

- billy loomis

- stu macher

- vincent sinclair

- lester sinclair

- possibly bo sinclair?

- possibly freddy krueger?

what i will and wont write

Will write✔️

- angst (im not the best at it but i can try!)

- fluff

- nsfw (once again not great but y’know)

- i can try at some kinks

- poly!

Wont write✖️

- any kinks that are considered taboo (sc@t, v0re, ur1ne, stuff like that)

- pedophil1a

- incest

DNI

basic dni criteria ( pedos, homophobes, transphobes, etc )

the grabber simps dni

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missjellyhead · 10 months

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HEADCANON | slashers favorite sex positions | fem!reader

Inclui Brahms Heelshire, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Otis Diftwood, RZ!Michael Myers

note: uh... hey? I got excited about this one. And thank you for 100 followers! :D

Warnings: nsfw.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Cowgirl.

Brahms is spoiled.

He doesn't want to take the slightest effort.

He just likes to lie back against the pillows, hold your thighs tightly, and let you move as you please. As long as he comes, everything is fine.

Brahms whimpers so needily, eyes closed as you ride on his cock.

When he's close to coming, he thrusts his hips up desperately, seeking his own pleasure.

If you allow him to take control, he'll moan loudly and fuck you until you can barely support your own weight and fall onto his furry chest.

But if you stop him, just wanting to tease him a little, he will whimper and stubbornly try to move.

You can punish him for being such a naughty and greedy boy, and Brahms will be begging for your touch like a puppy.

BILLY LENZ

Accepts anything. He just wants to fuck you senseless. But when you turn 69--

Hearing and feeling you gagging against his cock as he just devours your pussy is perfect.

And Billy is definitely addicted to his pussy.

Could eat you for hours and hours like a starving man. He never gets tired.

Billy also loves doggy style.

He'll throw you onto the bed as soon as he gets a chance to come out of the attic, and he'll fuck you hard and sloppy from behind until he comes.

In fact, after he cums, he keeps moving.

He super stimulates you without even realizing it, focusing only on himself.

He's noisy. Very noisy.

And it doesn't care if the sorority house is full or empty. As long as it's just the two of you in the room, he's in for some fun.

But it usually comes out of the attic during the night.

Good luck explaining to the other sorority girls what those late-night sounds were.

Speaking of the attic, he loves to fuck you in there too.

It's dusty and musty smelling, but Billy feels safe there.

He has you up against the wall, chest pressed against your back, and makes you practically scream with pleasure.

Anyway, he really loves many positions and it's hard to choose a favorite.

BUBBA SAWYER

I believe Bubba is a little shy about sex, although he is quite excited.

But he's afraid he can't satisfy you, and he's afraid you won't find his body attractive.

So it takes him a while to feel comfortable having sex with you.

And when that happens, you have to guide Bubba and teach him what to do.

If you are as inexperienced as he is, you will learn together and it will be nice and fun.

And when he has enough knowledge, has experienced enough positions, one of his favorites will be cowgirl.

He likes you to have control over him and do what gives you the most pleasure. It's also amazing that he has such a beautiful girl jumping on his dick. Bubba almost can't believe it's real.

And he loves to see your breasts bouncing. If he gets the chance, he'll have your nipples trapped between his lips as you ride his fat cock.

If he's not holding the sheets between his fingers, then he'll have his hands on your hips.

It will leave fingerprints because he squeezed you so hard.

It wasn't on purpose, honestly. He'll apologize later, fearing you'll get angry.

And if you tie his wrists to the headboard and sit on his face, he'll freak out.

Do it. He loves to please you.

Is kinda sloppy about eating pussy but so excited. Hope you don't mind the amount of saliva.

(And if you want to return the favor, pegging this man. He'll moan so needy~).

OTIS DRIFTWOOD

I honestly think Otis is a disgusting man. With a lot of fetishes, and a lot of boner, and a lot of time left to fuck you to exhaustion.

And speaking of fetishes, Otis has foot fetishes. Your foot, specifically.

It's not like he's going to masturbate looking at your feet or anything.

He just likes to pay special attention to his feet as he pushes against her sensitive, wet pussy.

And honestly, he doesn't even care if it makes you uncomfortable or not. Just take his dick and let him play with your body as he wants and as much as he wants.

So he likes to have you lying in bed, legs up, shins over his shoulders. That way he can just pull his legs forward and play with his feet. It will kiss and lick them while looking into your eyes.

Also likes to have you on all fours.

Shake your ass and Otis will be inside you in a few milliseconds.

Will spank your ass and pull your hair, pushing your face into the sheets.

(If you let him fuck your ass, he'll get you in every possible position. He gets wild).

And it will degrade you badly, all the time. (Does this outside of sex too).

RZ!MICHAEL MYERS

He'll make you lie face down on the bed, then he'll lean over you, put an arm around your neck and fuck you deep.

He's not really choking you unless you ask him to.

He likes how he looks bigger on top of you. Even if you are close to his height, he definitely has more muscles than you.

Michael isn't very vocal, but he lets out little grunts and his breathing becomes ragged as he rolls his hips against your ass.

He also likes to have you leaning over any surface that may be: kitchen table, countertops, coffee table in the living room.

That's because he likes to watch your cock disappear into your pussy, feel your legs shake as you try to get used to the size.

If he is particularly lazy that day, spoon position. It's still deep and strong, but slow.

The important thing is that he makes you come deliciously and he comes deep inside you.

(Loves to fuck you against the wall. Put one leg on his shoulder and let him stick his tongue in you. He'll hold your hips, not letting you dominate the situation. Michael likes to be in power, especially when he's making you feel squirm).

Sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language

#slasher x s/o #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #leatherface x reader #slashers #bubba sawyer x reader #billy lenz x reader #otis driftwood x reader #rz myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms x y/n #bubba sawyer x you

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osirisisv · 11 months

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FIRST WARNING! ⚠️🎃🔪

(He is being merciful rn, It's up to you if you risk yourself biting Mikey again 😂)

I wanted to redraw this picture with Mikey since I watched it on tiktok omgggg 😩❤️✨

#rz michael myers #rz halloween #michael myers #halloween #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers x reader #slasher fandom #slasher fanart #slasher movies #slasher fucker #slasher imagines #slashers #horror #myart #i finally got some inspo to draw #yay!

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rabbitblackx · 11 months

Note

Michael and Brahms with a shy s/o that they always catch staring and it's because now that the s/o saw their faces, they can't get his pretty face out of their head

Michael and Brahms with a Shy!Reader that’s always caught staring

Michael Myers💖

It took a long time for Michael to finally show you his face. But, god… it was so worth it. You couldn’t get his handsome face out of your head. Just the mere thought made you blush bright red!

When sitting at home with Michael, he always caught you staring. It was so embarrassing for you, especially since it always happened. He glared back at you from behind his mask, silently demanding to know why you were staring

“I’m sorry, Michael!” You stammered bashfully, covering your red face. “I just… you’re just so pretty under that mask. I wish…” your voice suddenly grew small, and you turned your head away shyly. “I wish I could see it more.” You squeaked

After a few painfully quiet moments, you jumped when you felt Michael’s calloused hand grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your glassy eyes widened in awe, as his unmasked face stared back at you. You practically crumbled apart under his piercing glare, as he asked you a question, using only his black eyes

Do you love me?

Michael’s hand gently slid down your jawline, resting comfortably around your throat. “Yes…” you whimpered barely above a whisper

I love you too.

Michael’s grip on your neck tightened, and his lips slammed onto yours

Brahms Heelshire💖

Brahms was always a little embarrassed when he caught you staring. Which was ironic, since you were much more shy. It was happening more and more often, where you would steal glances his way when he wasn’t looking

“Why are you staring at me, pretty?” Brahms finally asked in his deep, raspy voice

Your face blushed a bright red, and you looked away shyly. “Because, um… I think you’re really cute. Especially without your mask. You’re so…” you shifted uncomfortably in your spot on the couch. “You’re so… handsome…” you giggled nervously

A blush was quickly creeping across Brahms’ own face behind his mask. His heart pounded against his chest, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. He huffed as his breath grew quicker and heavier, tugging off his mask with haste

“Really?” Brahms asked hopefully, leaning in close

You couldn’t bring yourself to shy away from his advances, staring in awe at his beautifully scarred features. “Yeah…” you nodded

Brahms didn’t care if he made you nervous or bashful, he grabbed your sides and thrusted you forward. “Tell me that again… tell me that again and kiss me.” He groaned

You trembled in his grasp, secretly loving every little bit of it. “You’re handsome.” You moaned, cupping his burned face and ghosting your lips over his. “And I love you.” You added, before kissing him deeply

#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #michael myers x reader #michael myers 1978 #rz michael myers #michael myers #halloween #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #rab.reads

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angelbarelywrites · 1 month

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♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut

♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect

> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed

> It was a lot even for a king bed

> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed

> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep

> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life

> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest

> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair

> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you

> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining

> “Baby…wake up…”

> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg

> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament

Micheal Myers

> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this

> You know he doesn’t cuddle

> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night

> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is

> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly

> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board

> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax

> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals

> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”

> He pauses.

> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.

> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving

> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.

> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.

> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek

> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..

Thomas Hewitt

> He’s almost nervous of the idea

> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning

> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-

> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries

> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical

> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask

> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him

>“Hold me?”

> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time

> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting

> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.

> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.

> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”

> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.

Bubba Sawyer

> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)

> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.

> You were wondering where those went

> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly

> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears

> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last

> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does

> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.

> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back

> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute

> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast

> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one

> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over

Vincent Sinclair

> Like some of the others he’s hesitant

> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room

> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps

> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax

> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is

> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress

> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn

> It’s your turn to pout down at him

> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby

> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave

> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning

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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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Text

❝ beautiful (darling) ❞

Amanda Young (Saw) —

She would do anything to ensure that you are happy and healthy.

Even if it means she has to stare you down with her arms crossed and her brow arched as you meekly confess that you'd forgotten to fulfil your daily needs.

Your girlfriend knows how damaging it is to be looked at with disgust by close-minded individuals - as an ex-addict and ex-convict she knows how dark your mind can become when the world seemingly turns its back on you. She may not understand the struggle you face as a trans person but she is SO proud of you for having made it this far.

If you deny these words of admiration, she will cup your face and repeat them.

Resist more and she will whisper praises on your skin as she trails kisses anywhere she can. She loves you, she will not give you room to degrade the person she loves.

Oh! Amanda adores wearing matching pieces with you. She's not interested in full-on "couple outfits" (if you beg, maybe she'll relent...maybe) but matching earrings, necklaces, rings? She loves it. It soothes her possessive side.

Speaking of her possessiveness, she's not a jealous person...at least that is what she tells herself.

Amanda won't ever turn her anger on you when someone shows interest in you, she knows it isn't your fault that someone doesn't understand what "taken" means.

However, this does little to stop her from placing her chin on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck as she regards the "threat" with an unimpressed look.

"Whose this, baby?" "Oh, this is-" she gasps and you look as she points out something in the distance. "Look at that! Come on, looks fun!"

Please reassure her though, she acts tough but she is just a person underneath all that bloodshed.

Your girlfriend loves to embrace you, Little Spoon or Big Spoon matters not.

All-in-all, she is unapologetically touching you any chance she gets.

If someone is an asshole to you, you frankly start worrying about what dirt Amanda is going to find out about them and use against them in their game. You don't need to worry about her sketching new torture devices, disappearing in the middle of the night, or that suspicious duffel bag she comes back with that makes a loud CLANK! sound when she places it on the floor. No, really, don't worry.

When you see the asshole's face and name appear on the news because of their gruesome death, you simply continue to channel surf while Amanda chews on her lower lip, tucked under your arm and looking so smug.

If your cologne starts running out faster you look to your girlfriend - she quite literally smells like the evidence but she will deny, deny, deny.

Self-defense lessons. No questions asked, no rebuttal or refute. She will be more at peace knowing you can protect yourself.

If you decide to help her by "participating" in a game with other people, her eyes will be glued to the camera feed. She is pacing as thousands of "what if's" run through her mind. They dissipate as you turn your head to a hidden camera and smile at her before you continue your performance of distress and anxiety. She falls deeper in love with you (expect the most passionate kiss of your life - no, she won't care if you're covered in blood).

[CHEST BINDING] Amanda reminds you to take a break, and stretch your back and even offers to massage you. She will splurge on a better-quality binder when yours starts looking worse for wear.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, ADDICTION implied] She won't be present while you administer the shot, she will prepare band-aids, praises and kisses once you're done.

[SELF-HARM mentioned] If you struggle with self-harm, she won't start asking "how's" or "why's". Unlike her mentor, she knows how tough this can be, she won't punish or mock you for it. She will help you through it, every step of the way.

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) —

This boy is more perceptive than most give him credit for.

"(Y/N), feeling more darling today?" "...Yeah, wait, how'd you-"

He categorizes sliding around the gender spectrum as "pretty" (fem), "darling" (gn), and "handsome" (masc). You usually don't even have to tell him about how you're presenting/feeling today, he gets it right.

Your boyfriend is a brat but he isn't a useless brat. Contrary to popular belief, he can cook (snacks) and take care of himself just fine. He just leans on you more because...he's a brat.

This is hyper-specific, but Brahms knows how frustrating it feels to look into a mirror and see someone that isn't...you.

So he makes you a mask. It's how he copes and he figured it could help you too. If you like them he'd be more than happy to make you more.

Arts and craft master! Did you see his room? He probably kept himself busy with all sorts of hobbies, so he definitely enjoys handmaking your gifts.

Oh, how he loves to be held by you. He enjoys being enveloped completely, it makes him feel so small and safe.

Loves everything about you. Your voice makes the thoughts in his head quiet to a whisper - the power you have on this man.

So he does not understand why some people are abhorrent when they talk to you.

Yes, the two of you are more or less left alone in the Heelshire Manor/estate. Malcolm occasionally drops by with groceries only to scurry off after some mild-mannered conversation because he doesn't want the ghost of a child to chase him off. But, there's only so much you can do to maintain such a grand building and its surrounding land.

So, you have to call some help once in a while to uphold the maintenance. Most of the time, the local hire are sweet, they enjoy helping you since they're usually served cold drinks and snacks after. The handful of assholes, however, are...assholes.

Brahms seethes as he grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches, you glance at the wall he hides behind as you faintly hear his breathing but just got the interaction over and done with.

Unlike the other slashers in this list, he is at the most disadvantage when it comes to enacting justice but by god, he will try. For you? He'd do anything.

You let out a noise of confusion when Brahms murmurs about you going to the local art supply shop to get him something. "You want me to go to town?" he nods, his curls tickling your neck and shoulder. As you attempt to turn to face him, Brahms lets out a whine - high and pouty. "I've been good!" you sigh, patting his arm that was around your waist. "Alright, Brahmsy, alright".

Unbeknownst to you, Brahms had messaged the transphobic asshole whilst pretending to be you and told them something had happened to whatever it was they worked on while they were here. He'd given you an alibi, people saw you in town after all so he was prepared to have a "talk" with the repairman.

He also does not worry much about you going to the art supply shop as the woman who owns it is a kind old lady whom he sometimes makes you send his crafts - under the guise that you made them, of course.

You returned home with new art supplies in your hand, at ease and humming from the pleasant walk from the gates to the manor.

Brahms stands over a dead body on the back patio, his mask covered in blood splatters as he held an antique ashtray in his hand.

"(Y/N)!" he cheers, walking over the man's barely-there skull before he embraces you.

He'd kill for you but the mess is yours to clean. Your boyfriend isn't perfect.

He'll make you something sweet to drink while you hose down the gore, does that help? Okay, okay, fine, he'll bury the body too.

[CHEST BINDING] He knows when your body has had enough. No, he does not know the appropriate time frame you are supposed to have whilst wearing a binder - he just knows your body so well he knows when it's done for the day. He'll run you a hot bath to help your muscles relax.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, BURN SCARS] His arts and crafts hobbies practically made him have surgeon's hands. So if you need him to, he'll administer the shot and it won't hurt, just a pinch he promises. As someone who had to go through a few medical procedures due to his burns, he stays by your side when you have to go through anything remotely medical. By the way, despite how hard it is to get testosterone when you live in the middle of nowhere, don't worry, the Heelshire funds will last Brahms and you ten lifetimes. Enjoy it, it's all for you.

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) —

Corey "Babe, wear my jacket you'll look so handsome" Cunningham.

Oh, how this man dotes over you.

If you open his Notes app, you'll find an entire folder dedicated to you. Inside, your boyfriend has written down every date idea you confessed to wanting (even the TikTok links you'd sent regarding the topic), your favourite and least favourite food (your allergies are bolded and if you're on medication, that is also listed) and other things you weren't even aware he remembered much less keep note off.

It's okay if he doesn't wear a helmet but please wear yours.

Loves, loves, loves going on motorcycle rides with you. Your weight pressed against his, your laughter ringing in his ears, the wind in his hair, your arms wrapped around him, the scenery blurring past - he feels like the two of you are young gods. Eternal and immortal, just like his love for you.

Star-gazing dates! Climbing on rooftops of abandoned buildings to have private moments where you both feel like the only people in the world!

He would have been considered a "Golden Retriever" boyfriend but after his character development, he has turned into a "German Shepherd" boyfriend.

Honestly, he'd love to see anyone try to disrespect you. Their words fizzle out on their tongues when he stands behind you with his eyes so dark they resembled mirrors - just dark pools that only reflect the sorry cunt's expression back at them. They didn't know it just yet but they had just signed their death warrants.

Speaking of his eyes - please remind him to keep eye lubricant on him all the time. He stares at people like an owl, they dry out. Doesn't help that he rides his motorcycle without a helmet. Oh! And pretty please remind him to actually keep track of when he needs to buy new contact lenses, he somehow always disregards his eye health. You're basically the only thing keeping them alive - his optician thanks you.

If you tell him you like the way his jacket looks, how the rings on his fingers give you "gender envy", how good his cologne smells, how his jeans cutting makes him look more masculine - baby, just take it.

Referring to the first point - but yeah, dude, just wear his things if you want, he loves it. If you're not his size, then you best be ready to have him buy and alter things for you.

"You'd look cute wearing my work uniform" You pause from whatever it is you're doing and look at your boyfriend as he works on his motorcycle in your garage, "o...kay...?"

Maybe he just has a thing for you wearing his things...

His bloodlust fluctuates, sometimes he's feeling particularly bloodthirsty and sometimes not so much. What is constant though is the gifts he brings back. Does it count as trophies? Robbery? No idea! But the way your eyes light up when he gives you something makes his heart race.

[CHEST BINDING] This man did his research. He keeps an eye on your breathing when you're wearing a binder, gently reminding you to make sure you did so safely.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He holds you and will even offer to administer it. He talks while he does so - just to keep your mind off the needle and he places a kiss over your band-aid every time.

Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) —

As predicted, he stares. Sorry, not sorry. That's just how he communicates, through vibes.

In all seriousness though, Michael does "speak" but it's limited to how his eyes narrow, surprisingly sassy eye-rolls, infamous head tilts, sighs, grunts, growls and occasionally...a huff of laughter.

If you attempt to teach him how to sign, he will pick and choose when to use it but your boyfriend keeps himself easy to read for your sake.

Stalking is his love language. Do not attempt to spot him when he doesn't want to be spotted because you won't. He secretly enjoys seeing you pout when you try though, you look so determined.

Your boyfriend won't negotiate on moving so you're going to have to renovate and fix up his childhood home to make it livable- this will be hard as Michael will be hiding in the basement but thankfully, whoever he did kill he managed to make it look like an accident. It made the whole process take longer than it was supposed to though, you sulked by sleeping at a motel and vehemently locking the windows and doors.

He appreciates you, just shows it quietly. The Shape makes sure your windows are locked, doors too, don't want any sickos breaking in. That's his job.

He'll hunt for you too. You coaxed him to stop killing rats to eat them and kudos to you he doesn't eat them anymore. Rats are just as scared of him as most of Haddonfield. If you don't know how to skin and prepare an animal carcass...well, you better start learning.

Oh, by the way, nobody messes with you. Not even the most insufferable, limp-dicked, conservative in Haddonfield and he annoys everyone! But nah, he's tight-lipped when it comes to you.

Everyone who had ever been rude to you...well...they pop up a few weeks later in various states of fucked up.

Your boyfriend does not understand gender conformity, at all. You will catch him wearing a sleeping kaftan around the house, completely at ease with himself. If you paint his nails, he doesn't fuss about the colour. If you decide to dress more feminine one day he'll just look at you and hum in approval - the same reaction if you dress more masculine.

The guy is called The Shape of Haddonfield, truly a frightening but surprisingly gender-neutral title.

So, do not fret, if anybody dares say anything they will rue the day they were born.

[CHEST BINDING] Ah, he makes it known when you've had enough. Michael will simply stand in front of you and point to his chest, a prompt for you to tell him what time you wore it. Then, he'll just stand and stare until you make a move to take it off. Yes, he has scared the shit out of you by popping out of nowhere whilst you were doing chores outside the house - no, he denies ever huffing a breath of amusement (a laugh in Michael's vocabulary) when you blurb out random exclamations and drop whatever it is you were holding.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He won't administer it. Michael doesn't even like to imagine stabbing you so why would he? So what if it's a needle, he simply refuses to do so. He will instead offer support by placing a hand on your shoulder or knee and if he somehow lost track of time while he was out, he'll return with your favourite snacks (he steals them obviously).

Michael Myers (2007 - 2009) —

Staring but with more...feeling.

Mainly non-verbal but makes communicating easier by signing to you and occasionally whispering.

He is an open book to you in general though so you honestly have no idea why people find him so scary.

Yeah, you have a biased view but how could you not be when your boyfriend showers you with love any chance he gets.

Another arts and crafts lover, his face warms up when you gift him art supplies despite being "expressionless".

He isn't much of a fan of being touched anywhere near his neck or wrists so be wary of that. When he's about to touch you he makes it known by hovering his hand over you. You will need to reassure him he doesn't need to ask for permission every time but he does it anyways.

Aware of his size and strength, finds himself pleased with it despite how hard it is to stalk because he can keep you safe.

Oh, anyone with a shrimp-sized brain is going to have a rough night if they decide to be a dick to you. He will snap their spine over his knee and watch them try to crawl away like the pathetic worm they are.

Your boyfriend is willing to move away from his home once his vengeance is fulfilled.

Roadtrip? Roadtrip!

He is a homebody, if you believe it or not. Michael decorates your home with his artwork and has a good eye for aesthetics.

He wants to dress his beautiful lover (you) if you give him the chance.

Like OG!Michael, he doesn't completely understand why people take gender roles so seriously. Seriously, he can't wrap his mind around it. He honestly finds it all toxic - considering his parents and his sister's shitty boyfriends...why wouldn't he?

He wants you to play with his hair, please play with his hair. He will pass out the minute you do. Big on cuddles, being a Little Spoon is a state of mind not size so please Big Spoon him.

Another stalker, let's just conclude that any variation of Michael Myers just do it because they can. He likes keeping tabs on you is all. When you're working, he tries to keep busy but he just misses you...so don't mind him if you notice him in your peripheral vision whilst working.

[CHEST BINDING] He is good at counting down the minutes in his head. It happens when you're stuck in a mental institution and spend it in partial isolation. So, when he spots you putting on a binder for the day, he starts counting down. Yes, it is accurate and yes, he would prefer if you did take it off once he finishes his countdown - you could seriously hurt your body!

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Curls up behind you, stroking the upper parts of your thighs as he watches you set everything up. He begins humming as you prepare the needle which makes you smile every time.

Billy Looomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) —

Oh boy, it's never a dull day with these two as your boyfriends.

"Black Cat" boyfriend, Billy Loomis and "Doberman" boyfriend, Stu Macher.

Will not elaborate...defeats the purpose of this entire thing if I don't though so fine -

Billy is calm, not calmer than Stu because that's actually quite an easy category to best him in. Billy is calm. He keeps the balance of your relationship. But he is a menace himself.

He stalks and slithers into your room when he pleases, holds you against him when he feels like it - which, by the way, does not mean he'll be mean if you lean against him or touch him, he just won't reciprocate but it is still welcomed. He also has a habit of pushing against your palm when you run your fingers through his hair or stroke his face. See? Black Cat boyfriend.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he can be snarky but Stu came up with the idea of ending every "bitch fight" with an "I love you". It helped a lot.

Your Doberman boyfriend holds you any chance he gets. It's one of the only ways he keeps still. Billy and you have to pin him down between the two of you to have a peaceful cuddle.

Stu is also much more protective/possessive than the two of you combine. His lovers are his alone. He will smile all teeth and gums and make people feel at ease but Stu is one scary man when he notices someone taking an interest in either of you. Billy and you have felt shivers of fear and anticipation down his spine when you see the gears in Stu's brain switch from "Stu" to "Ghostface".

Oh, oh, how sharp their smiles would be if a transphobe fucked around because they will make them find out. Not because they want you to get verbally abused or harassed! God, no!

They want you to watch them murder them. They will ask you to choose how to end them, how to play with them and what pieces should be found last.

Pieces of clothing are always shared, with how often everyone sleeps over it was inevitable. Accessories as well, hell, Stu managed to lose his body wash twice and he's been to both of your houses - it wasn't there either! Stu just buys things in bulk at this point.

Billy is really good at cutting and styling hair. If you ask, he will help you with yours - regardless of what style you want. If your hair texture is different from his own he will research about it to the best of his abilities.

Kisses with them are so messy. They always want to share and always at the same damn time - you get dizzy just trying to keep up in the mess of lips, teeth and tongue.

Stu throws parties, loves showing you off and Billy is there to whisk you upstairs if you get overwhelmed.

Both Ghostfaces have called you before. They tease you with lines like, "You got a boyfriend, handsome?" or "Damn, beautiful, your boyfriends get you all to themselves? Lucky boys"

[CHEST BINDING] "(Y/N)! How long have you been wearing your binder?" Stu calls from his kitchen, returning with a bowl of popcorn once you answered while you lay across Billy's front on the couch. "Been a while, right?" Billy said, a hand coming to rest on your back "Need a break?" Stu makes a noise of agreement as he lifts your legs and places them on his lap. "Want me to help, baby?" Stu asks.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Billy helps you with administering the shot while Stu holds you, sometimes switching around. Stu has accidentally stabbed himself with the needle - he apologized profusely as Billy tells him he's contaminated the entire thing (you roll your eyes fondly at your boyfriends, Ghostface looks anything but scary when the two of them are squabbling on the bathroom floor).

Beauregard "Bo" Sinclair (House of Wax) —

I need to get this off my chest, Bo thinks hats are a staple of masculinity...close second are suits and ties, and cars come in third.

He gifts you hats. His favourite was the cowboy hat a victim no longer needed. While placing it on your head he made an obligatory sex joke, it was right there you can't possibly expect him not to.

Bo prefers for you not to make yourself known to victims, he knows you can handle yourself, he just worries.

That and he gets pissed when someone flirts with you. He gets even more pissed when they outright disrespect your identity and labels you as "weird".

He won't even pretend to feel sorry when Vincent questions where their bodies are while Lester grimaces when he sees their state.

If you're someone with long hair please be aware that Bo's eyes will shift to your wrists every so often if there are hairbands around them once he spots it. Anything that is too "snug" around your wrist will make Bo feel uneasy, he will ask you to take it off in an uncharacteristically soft tone that soon turns snappy if you attempt to prod.

When you see the marks on your boyfriend's wrists and/or find his baby seat you'll understand why.

Though he's a hardass to his brothers, he feels so much relief in knowing they love and trusts you just as much as he does.

Touchy - PDA hardly bothers him so why should he hold himself back when you're his darling lover.

Likes to tuck his hand in the back pocket of your pants (he pinches when he's feeling playful).

He rambles about cars. One night, as he was working on repairing a car, he rambles and slows to a stop when he feels as though he was talking too much but when you reassure him that you're listening and interested...his cheeks turn red.

Bo cooks. Not frequently, certainly not his usual task either, but if everyone else is busy/tired he rolls his sleeves and makes a classic and feel-good Southern meal.

[CHEST BINDING] Bo finds himself worrying. The heat and humidity probably don't help your case. He tries to convince you to wear tank tops or simply just your binder during hot days. Sometimes he even gruffs out you don't need to wear it at all as there's no one else around and the people that are there are the Sinclairs who know you. He won't push you but reminds you to keep yourself hydrated and not to push it.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Bo asks if you need help, won't intrude if you say no but he does squeeze in an extra kiss once you're done.

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) —

Vincent Sinclair gives me "White Cat" vibes. So regal looking, so calm and so adamant about not being needy when in fact...he is.

Your boyfriend is an artist. You are his muse. Tale as old as time but why fix what's not broken?

Nonverbal and uses sign language or simple gestures to communicate. He is a bit self-conscious of his laughter but oh how you love hearing it. It makes him squirm every time you stare at him with nothing but love in his eyes.

Refuses to have you interact with the victims. He makes sure you stay in his room, safe and sound.

Brat.

He was basically the favourite twin - he can be bratty even if he tries to deny it.

If you say "no" to him he genuinely gets wide-eyed and makes a whining noise. What do you mean you didn't want to stay in his basement to accompany him while he worked? So what if it's sweltering hot out and the basement feels like Hell on earth! Spend time with him!

Baby talk always makes him burst into fits of giggles - you could be as unfunny as a heart attack but the minute you start speaking in baby talk he loses it.

He got anxious at the thought of his brothers not liking you. There's no reason why they would dislike you but he just worries. They love you though and he is so relieved that you get along so well.

Feel free to "paint" his wax figures. If his mask is starting to get uncomfortable or he just felt like he wanted to make a new one, you're free to go crazy on his old one.

Your boyfriend complains about wax clumping his hair. You now make it a habit to either tie it up, using a claw clip to hold it back, or braiding his hair before he toils away in the basement.

Genuinely loves spending time with you, even if you're just chilling adjacently from each other. He made a designated (Y/N) space in the basement where you can do pretty much anything in peace with Vincent nearby.

The victim said what about you? There's no way he will immortalize a transphobe in this town. He burns them alive after he paralyses them from the neck down, relishing in their screams as they turn into nothing but ash.

You notice his hearing is unbalanced/muffled on one side of his face and how he seems as though he anticipates touch all the time on that side. You make sure you're always approaching him on his "good" side - he is eternally thankful.

Total cuddle bug when you two are alone, prefers being the Big Spoon as he tucks his head at the crown of your head. He snores sometimes if he's really tired.

[CHEST BINDING] Vincent educated himself on this topic. Honestly, like Bo, he worries if you overexert yourself with the heat and at one point discusses with you if you'd rather have your chest permanently flat/smaller. He'd need proper equipment but he'd do anything to ensure you're safe and content.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Parks himself in front of you and holds his hand out. Stares at you while you blink owlishly at him. His eye squishes into a crescent shape as he smiles once you hand over the needle to him. Let him take care of you, you're his darling muse!

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) —

He's the chaotic "Pitbull" boyfriend!

This sweet lad actually has trouble accepting help. It makes him uncomfortable if he thinks about it too deeply. He just found himself in scenarios where his usefulness was always at the forefront of why he was wanted, it's hard to get out of that mindset.

He loves you for helping him though, just have no idea how to articulate it properly. All blushes, stutters and squirms.

Your boyfriend gets excited when new victims come around, eager to loot through their things. Especially when someone has a similar style as you!

He gets self-conscious of how he smells because of the things he works with so he also loots tons of cologne and body sprays - you two basically have a goddamn Baths & Body Works on your bathroom vanity.

You two make a game of it, changing your scents for the day and deciding if it was shit or decent. Jonesy's vote is heavily influential.

Date nights are heavenly. Lester uses his nicer truck for outings. You two grab a bite and try to find new places to experiment since Ambrose is a ghost town and you two need to experience more than just death. Afterwards, he finds a lookout point and you three (yes, Jonesy follows) pile out to the back and curl up with the radio playing some cheesy country love songs.

If Jonesy is dropped off at the twin's place, the PG ratings climb the ladder.

Lester doesn't consider himself a violent man. He doubts he even wants to be if he is completely honest. But when someone flirts with you he feels this unbridled rage rise to his chest and down to his fist.

He spits at their feet as he tugs you away, his dominant arm already springing up in preparation for a punch when he feels them grab at his shoulder.

Grins when you scold him afterwards at home, nursing his bruised cheek.

If he's busy, Jonesy follows you to do chores!

By the way, that dog and your boyfriend always seem to know when some dick-for-brains are near you and steer you away. Will avoid confrontation when necessary.

Not above telling on the victims that shouted insults your way. Baby brother privilege!

His brothers adore you! So they find no trouble in slaughtering someone who dared spoke badly of you and upsetting Lester.

[CHEST BINDING] Lester is pretty observant of your cues. Quietly reminds you of how long you've been wearing your binder and offers to work out all the kinks in your back. He reads about it! Vincent helped him out as well. Lester peppers kisses all over your back once he's done, making sure you're practically melted against the bed once he's done.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He has slight hand tremors, minuscule but it worsens when he focuses on not twitching so he watches you as you do your thing, ruffling your hair and asking if you'd like anything to eat.

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lussiane333 · 7 months

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hello friend, love the slasher posts

Ok so we all know that scene in Halloween when the nurse chick (I completely forgot her name) was kissing and biting micheals hand. Could you do that but with his s/o like how would he reacte if it was someone he ......likes?

Hello there!

That scene.. I'm jealous.

(Any version) Michael Myers x Reader NSFW!

(It's me, of course it's NSFW, what else did you expect ;P)

Kiss it better

Michael knew that you liked his hands.

It turns out that besides the brutality, his hands could still give pleasure.

The way you ogled when he grabbed something, when he placed his hand on your thigh and circled his thumb on your skin, so light and soft. Or when he gripped your neck tightly, Michael savoring the sweet sounds you made, as your eyes watched his flexing arm. Your hand placed on top of his that held your neck, feeling his strong grip..

The way your eyes were practically heart shaped, when he came home all dirty and bloody, his hand gripping the knife so tightly it made his veins pop out even more.

Michael knows it all.

He also knows that he could easily crush you with them. One hand and you would be gone.. It's not only erotic to him. He feels a strange sensation in his chest when he thinks that you know about the things that he has done with his hands, and you still look at them like it's a holy picture.. He's aroused but touched too.

So now imagine, Michael coming back home with a big bruise forming on his knuckles. It was still red, maybe the victim kicked him or threw something at him, tried anything just to save themselves.

Tried..

"Let me kiss it better.." You said, giving Michael the most prettiest gaze you could.

Michael's eyes were on you. It didn't even hurt and he was eyeing you for trying to baby him like that, but he gave you his hand anyway.

You felt heat creep along your neck as you found yourself kissing his palm. Then you began to suck and bite just gently on Michael's fingers.

His eyes widened slightly, all focused on you and the way your mouth moved, your eyes on his as you held his wrist.

Oh he likes it. A lot..

When you softly moaned and bit down harder, applying the perfect pressure with your teeth, he lost it.

He would put you against the nearest furniture and fuck you hard, pushing his hips forward to sink his cock into you over and over again, his fingers in your mouth, muffling the sounds you made.

'You like it so much, now take it.' He thinks, as he pushes his fingers down your throat more.

He wouldn't be able to hold back the soft moans that escaped him. Seeing you sucking on his fingers while he's deep inside of you? Yeah, that does something to him.

Michael would definitely give you hints to do it again after this..

Coming home after another bloody night and you would see a big scratch on his hand. (He actually did it himself) He would stare at you, showing you his hand and if you wouldn't get the hint, he would put his thumb on your lower lip, pulling it down gently and lean closer to you just to whisper a soft, almost inaudible: "Kiss it better."

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angled-blade · 1 year

Text

Being childhood friends with the Slashers

Slashers; Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Ghostface (Billy Loomis + Stu Macher), Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG + RZ), Thomas Hewitt

To think that you were so close with them, it’s almost as if it weren’t coincidental.

• Billy Lenz

You only recall Billy as one of the only friends you had who had been so willing to try out all the weird dares back in middle school. You were fond of his strange antics, as it made you giggle at times. You kept his secrets as well, pinky promising him. Billy was really happy that day, his small hand holding yours the whole time. You never really thought you’d ever interact with him again after he had been pulled from public schooling altogether.

—

“___… ___’s here! Billy’s gotta call.. Right? Right! ___’s coming here!” Billy whispered under his breath, barely able to contain himself as he picked up the rotary right as you stepped inside the sorority home. He saw you from the attic window, your appearance remarkably the same, in which he identified in an instant. It made him giddy.

“Hello?” A voice responded. Someone that wasn’t you. Billy began to scream, his screams were calling for you all while he was simultaneously insulting the person on the other end. You were concerned, though you held the phone to your ear when one of the girls handed it to you teary eyed before exiting.

You didn’t expect to hear someone blabbering expletives and curses on the other end as he signed off with the name, ‘Billy’. What you didn’t expect was to recognise that voice, no matter how loud and unintelligible it was.

“Billy.. Billy..” That was when you realised, shock overtaking you. “Is that really you, Billy?” You murmured. You looked around the room nervously, though you were relieved that nobody was around.

“___!” He cheered, repositioning himself on his stomach as his kicked his legs. He was absolutely delighted to know you still remembered him, a coo escaping him.

• Bubba Sawyer

You had known the Sawyers since you were little, your family having been quite close with them as your father had been working at the same slaughterhouse as they did. With the automation of the slaughterhouse, your parents decided to move in response to it, much to your protests that went ignored. After moving away, contact with them began to lessen and got a lot more harder—though you missing them had gotten a whole lot more bigger, especially for Bubba. He was always so kind to you.

—

You didn’t expect your visit through the heart of Texas to have you running into the man you missed.

You saw that Bubba had been maskless, washing his face and his bloodied arms in the pond, maybe he was finished with butchering meat. The pond tugged at your heartstrings, seeing that it was where he and you always went to whenever your parents were busy.

“Bubba!” You hollered his name, your voice startling him at first. When he saw you, he was quick in running over to you. His pig-like squeals were amplified, wrapping his arms around you tightly. To the average person, those sounds from him would be unnerving—but you found it a familiar sort of assurance.

• Ghostface

• Billy Loomis

Billy was initially distant with you when you tried to talk to him at school, though he crawled back to you at the end of the day, shyly asking to be your friend in school. He would excitedly talk to you about movies, more specifically action. You reciprocated by rambling about the movies you’ve watched, too. Billy became something of a quiet protector, though, you two were already difficult to tear from one another in the first place, as it resulted in Billy being petty in the ways he sought for your attention. This friendship continued on until you made it to Woodsboro High, Billy making sure to keep his eye on you as he continued on with his plan.

—

Billy patted at the seat beside him, a smug smile across his features as he began to eat at his sandwich. You followed suit, setting down the books you had been holding onto from the previous class.

“How’s Mrs. Lake? She any good of a teacher?” Billy asked, chuckling at the sight of you huffing in frustration.

“Don’t even talk about it.. Anything you up to tonight?” You changed the subject, Billy catching onto it quickly, having known you for a long while. He nodded, a smile appearing now.

“I’m going to make a call tonight, nothing much, really.”

After answering, Billy returned to his sandwich after doing so, ending the conversation right after.

• Stu Macher

Stu had been dubbed as a problematic child long before you were even enrolled into the school. From what was honestly meant to be a day long interest in the new kid, Stu found himself quickly getting attached to you. He honestly craved the fact that you readily accepted him as he was and helped him focus on class in that really gentle way you did. Imagine his reaction when he heard the news that the school had offered you to be his aid in class, with you accepting it in a heartbeat? He was absolutely ecstatic. This arrangement continued until you two were in Woodsboro High, that fact itself had him quietly grateful.

—

“Uh, hey ___?” You hummed softly, indicating to him that you were listening. His tone alone already had you knowing what it was that he wanted. You quickly passed him your notes for him to copy down.

Stu smiled wide, patting your back as he always did. You knew that he couldn’t help the fact that he struggled finding ways to focus, so you always made sure to keep things easy for him to understand and recognise. By then, you always got the news from Stu as he boasted about the grades he had improving significantly.

“Andddd.. It’s all thanks to you~” Stu cooed, hugging you gently—which was uncharacteristic, but it showed how grateful he was.

• Jason Voorhees

You were practically attached to the hip with Jason, having been promoted to being his buddy throughout the time you were in camp. You didn’t mind it all. You met him purely by accident, being far more interested at the drawings he made at the bench that was behind the mess hall. Jason’s mother saw you, and the rest was history. You didn’t understand what was it with the others attending camp, but you made sure to protect him whenever you could from those bullies. You were pulled away from camp due to complications that you never knew. You honestly felt heartbroken when you found out what really happened.

—

Years passed.

No matter how long it had been, you couldn’t help but feel as if you failed Jason.

You shed many tears for him once you found out. If only you weren’t sick on that day, you could have stopped those cruel kids from throwing him in.

Here you were, resting white chrysanthemums on the bridge, right by the spot where it happened. It was quiet, as you would have expected, really.

You were startled by the sight of a hulking man donning a hockey mask as he stared at you.

What you didn’t expect was him dropping to his knees as if he didn’t want to intimidate you.

• Michael Myers

• ’78/OG

OG clung onto you similarly to a cat with a toy trapped in its jaws, unwilling to let go. His possessiveness over you was as prominent as it could possibly appear, making sure that he scared away the boys and girls who shyly came up to you in an attempt to play. You were his only playmate, never to play with another unless you wanted to betray him. That fact remained prevalent even after the incident on Halloween, due to your aura seeming unwelcoming to others ever since that day onwards.

—

You watched the news, overwhelmed with emotion as you read the headline over and over.

MICHAEL AUDREY MYERS: ‘EVIL INCARNATE’ PATIENT BREAKS OUT FROM SMITH’S GROVE SANATORIUM AFTER DECADE-LONG DORMANCY

“After all this time, you decide on escaping now.” You murmured, checking the calender. You sighed quietly at the coincidence. You felt a presence behind you a good few feet away, feeling eyes on your back. Having known Michael for as long as you did, a small smile now formed on your face.

“How fitting for you. Welcome home, Michael.” You whispered, turning around to face your friend after so long.

• RZ

RZ didn’t expect to make friends, seeing how it was his family that had him endure terrible treatment at school. He was surprised that you became someone who he felt protective over, being sure to keep an ear out for anybody who dare speak ill of you. While his size was puny in comparison to the other boys at school, he sure knew how to torment someone. RZ often pulled mean pranks, even going far to put his hobby of photography into the mix of the student’s bags. He even made sure to get the most gruesome shots to creep them out further. They stopped after a while, and he was never really caught per say… until that fateful night of Halloween, of course.

—

You didn’t know if it was purely by luck, but Michael found you as he basked in the aftermath of his murder spree. You were heading home, feeling eyes on you. You shivered, assuming it was due to a heightened paranoia ever since Michael had been taken away to the sanatorium.

You returned home, placing your keys on the side table. It was once you heard the back door creak open did you whip your head in its direction. Before you stood a man in a boiler suit who donned a white rubber mask. You remembered it all too well, knowing how it was one of a kind.

One thing that you knew especially was that mask your Michael wore on that Halloween night.

“Michael..” You muttered, his hand grabbed at his mask. He removed it, unveiling the long hair that he hid under it, further proving your statement. He stepped forward, his hand out for you to take.

• Thomas Hewitt

You were extremely close with the Hewitts, despite your parents warning you that it wasn’t for the best to form attachments; especially with people and places that aren’t permanent. You went ahead and did it anyway, being friends with Thomas Hewitt. He was the youngest of the Hewitt family and you learnt that he was really skillful with his hands in sewing. When you left you given Luda Mae your number for him to take. In exchange, he gave you a handmade handkerchief as his own version of goodbye to you right before you left, which made you cry on the spot. You kept in touch with him regularly as you moved, your relationship with him remaining as close as ever despite the distance.

—

“Guess what, Tommy!” You said, holding the phone closer to your ear as you felt your excitement course through you.

A grunt of curiosity escaped him, allowing you to elaborate on your words. He was in his bedroom, his head tilted to the right to avoid holding the phone as he sewed.

“I’m passing through Texas for something. Do you know what it means, Tom?” You asked giddily, your voice airy and light—indicating your elation. Thomas perked up at that, a few chuffs from him as if he wasn’t sure about it entirely, but a good feeling began to form.

“I’m going to meet—no, I’ll be meeting you soon!” You answered, unable to keep it quiet any longer.

Thomas paused on his sewing, making sure he heard that right.

“We’re finally going to be able to catch up face to face after—how long has it been? Ah, it’s been so long…” You sighed as you moved on to ramble what you could do.

With that confirmation, Thomas reacted with his foot thumping against the wooden flooring excitedly.

Sure, Hoyt was annoyed, but Thomas couldn’t care in that moment.

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#billy lenz x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #og michael myers x reader #rz michael myers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #black christmas x reader #texas chainsaw massacre x reader #ghostface x reader

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