#slasher fiction

[ofinkandpaper]

An Unknown Possibility

Chapter Four

I'm not sure I'll ever be to thank y'all enough for how patient you've been with me in getting these chapters out! I really hope you enjoy this one, I decided to go for a different POV this time~

And as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated and preferred, thank you ❤️

Chapters: First / Previous / Next

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, swearing

Word Count: 3,142

As the fog cleared, his lips curled into a smirk. Danny felt the familiar, comfortable weight of his knife in his hand; the solid wood and once polished - now nicely worn - leather of the handle. A rush of adrenaline and power shot through his veins as he twirled it between his fingers, spun it in the air, and deftly snatched it back. If he were being completely honest, he was still a little surprised that he hadn’t caught it by the blade yet. Maybe that was one of the perks of being here for as long as he had; practice makes perfect and all that bullshit.

With the knife back in his hand, he flipped it around and crouched, letting shadow surround him and veil him from detection. Really, the longer he was in these realms, or whatever people wanted to call them, he found more and more things to love about it. The thrill of being undetected while stalking a hapless victim was already a plus, but being able to strike them down with one blow? Well, sometimes it was a plus, and sometimes he wished there was more of a chase. His smirk widened - no one could give him quite the chase like they could. He really hoped they would be in this Trial; he had to give them some kind of punishment for leaving him like they had. He had told them to stay where they were, and what did they do? Ran away with their little friends and that jackass German.

He snarled at the thought of that man, almost loud enough to break his cover as he prowled around the grounds, keeping an eye out for one stupid survivor or another. What did that asshole have that he didn’t? They were about the same height, and he was sure as shit that he was stronger! Was it that he was a survivor? His accent? His Hair?

Nah, definitely the accent. Had to be. Even he couldn’t deny a sexy accent when he heard one.

Danny shook his head and took a breath. He had to focus and catch these little assholes before they could get away. He’d give himself bonus points if he was able to kill three of them before the-

A generator off to his left blew, and he almost laughed. Sure, people could say that it "happened to the best of us" (the 'us' being the survivors), but regardless of that, they just gave away their position, which in turn made his job - and life - that much easier. With a widening grin, he made for the blown gen. Danny absentmindedly wondered if whoever it was had run away from it the moment it blew in their face, or if they were just dumb enough to continue working on it. Sure it wasn't an entirely stupid idea considering most killers had their Terror Radius loud and proud at all times, but there were still a few - like him and Michael - whom that little piece of info didn't quite apply to.

As he got closer, he nearly laughed out loud when he heard the gen being worked on. Sneaking around, he tried to find the perfect place to peek out at them for maximum stalking. From the sputtering sound of the gen, whoever was here had just started working when they had fucked up. When he finally found a good place to stalk, he bent around the corner to peer at the survivor - make that survivors, plural - working; one was that annoying talk show host lady he never bothered to remember the name of… when did he ever really remember these poor saps names? The other was a small Chinese girl - or was she Japanese? Korean? He couldn't remember, and - again - didn't bother to try to. He settled himself for a good stalk, trying to catch their hushed conversation over the slowly progressing noise of the generator.

"You really believe they would be into someone like him? Please! They're way out of his league! Not to mention he's a killer; why would they like him if he's constantly killing them and their friends?" The smaller of the two rolled her eyes hard enough that her head rolled with them. Talk about dramatics. The other woman huffed and shook her head.

"I can’t argue with you about them being out of his league, but there also aren’t many romantic options around. As for sexual options, well, there really aren’t many of those either.” This made the smaller woman snicker as they continued working, a curse flying from her as she - once again - fucked up what she was trying to do, though this time the gen just shuddered a little instead of fully blowing in her face.

Their topic of conversation was definitely something he kept on the back of his mind as he snuck up behind the closest of the two and slashed his blade down her spine. She screamed as the force of the slash pushed her forward against the generator and further still onto the ground to the side. The gen blew for a third time and her partner fled like the coward they were. He snickered and wiped his blade before passing it over to his left hand while he picked the woman up with his right. She grunted and whined as she struggled to get out of his grip once he started walking towards the nearest hook; he rolled his eyes at the attempts. Unless one of her little friends decided to play hero, there was no way she was getting out of his iron grip. The thought brought back his smirk as he came to a stop to bring her down onto the hook. Her scream was like music to his ears!

There was a moment, though, where he paused mid step away from her now limp form before turning his head to look over his shoulder at her.

“By the way - not that it matters too much - who were you and the other little lady gossiping about?” The smirk on his lips widened beneath his mask as he noted the sudden look of worry that crossed her face before she started to glare at him. Her expression told him that she wanted to say something - what it was, he could only guess - but at the same time, didn’t want to give him the pleasure of a response. Well, whether she remained silent or not, her expressions were response enough to make him laugh, “What? Can’t a guy join in on gossip every once in a while? The other killers aren’t much in the way of conversation.” He rolled his eyes hard enough to roll his head - a mock to the other survivor earlier - and laughed again, beginning to walk away once more.

“Better hope your little friends can actually hold a conversation, or else I’ll be bored. No one likes me when I’m bored.”

Well, as far as he was aware - as he stalked away to try to find another survivor to torment - no one liked him whether he was bored or not. Not that it mattered. Save for his darling, he really didn't give a single fuck as to what the rest of the survivors thought of him. Though it did just barely puzzle him as to why he was so caught up on how they thought of him.

Ghostface paused behind a tree, clearing his mind and listening for any trace of a survivor near him - whether it be from walking around, rummaging through a supply chest or fixing a generator. It didn't take long, however, before the Entity so kindly alerted him that someone had gotten that one survivor down from the hook. He paused a moment before moving, deciding if he wanted to go back and see if he could down catch two for one. With a shrug, he moved off in a different direction, wanting to play with someone else instead of Boring Betty.

It didn't take long before he found a new… his own heart beat hard in his chest from excitement as he peeked around a corner to find someone blessing a totem. It was Them. The Entity really did bless him today, hadn't she? He stalked for a moment before walking over and kneeling right behind them, giddy that they were going to spook right into his arms.

"I didn't say you could play with my toys, did I?"

Just like he thought, they jumped with a yell right back into his chest. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around their center and hold them close. If he hadn't been wearing his mask, he would've shoved his face right into the crook of their neck.

Their body was stiff against his, and it gave him an odd thrill that he could not only feel their heart pounding from fear, but they could possibly feel his heart pounding from the mere thrill of seeing them.

"Playing with things that aren't yours on top of not listening to what you're told to do? Such a naughty survivor, aren't you?" He chuckled and brought one of his hands up to rest on their cheek, his thumb brushing over their lip as the pressure from his hand pushed their head closer against his. His excitement dwindled when they remained silent and stiff, though in its stead, his curiosity started to peak as their face felt warm through his glove… were they blushing?

He laughed, hugging them a little tighter as he stood, before daring to remove his arms from around them. Somehow, he was startled when - the exact moment he retracted his arms - they bolted away like a frightened deer. This was nothing like how they had behaved around him before…

The confused expression he had under his mask swiftly became that of annoyance. There was no doubt that the other survivors' little warnings about him had wormed their way into their mind and heart. Of course, he knew it was all bullshit, and they were manipulating them to keep them away from him! As he chased after them, annoyance started to turn to anger - his thoughts going back once more to Mr. Tall, Blonde and German. It was obvious he was the one orchestrating the entire thing, even having all the other survivors in on it! Maybe if he cut a deal with the Entity, she could let him keep them with him, away from everyone else… yes, that was the only solution he could think of.

The chase didn't last long, and with his mind so focused on formulating the perfect plan to steal his baby away from the other survivors, he struck them down and hung them on a hook without a second glance or word. He would have more time to talk to them later, and if he performed well during this Trial, surely he would stand a better chance at getting what he wanted from the Entity. Though it did hurt him a bit to hear their cries and whimpers of pain, it was for their own good. He figured this was a good enough punishment for what they had done before - for now. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to take them down, hold them and tend to them… but he needed to be strong. How else would they learn? He shook his head to clear it before returning to the hunt.

With his mood down the shitter, Danny wasn’t in the mood to play his usual little games with the survivors in his trial. That, in turn, caused the trial itself to become much shorter than they usually were which - in turn - caused his mood to dip even further. By the time that there were two survivors left, he hadn’t cracked a single joke or given a hint of mercy. Normally, at least a kill or two would be able to lift his mood, so now he was not only a mister grumpy pants, but also confused as all hell about whatever the fuck was going on in his head. It would probably be simple to just chalk it up to his lovely doll refusing to really acknowledge him beyond sabotaging his shadow cloke and keeping out of his sight and grasp. He paused then, standing for a moment as his mood began to sink further with how his mind ran with his thoughts.

He hadn’t seen that last survivor all trail.

That thought alone had his blood boiling just thinking of who it could be; contemplating what he would do with them once he found them - he was so sure it was the German Bastard. Probably sweet talking his doll and enforcing the idea that he was nothing but a heartless, psychopathic killer, which he was not! If anything, he was a heartless, sociopathic killer - there’s a difference!

It pained him to say that it startled him when the final gen popped and the gates buzzed as they were activated. With a growl, he began to make his way towards one of the doors, hoping to either find the mystery survivor and kill them as brutally as he could or his lovely favorite and try to get them to actually talk to him. It had become increasingly irritating that they were trying so hard to stay away from him now when he and them would come together so easily like magnets, or other things that always went together - like coffee and donuts! Who doesn’t love a good coffee and donut combo? Okay, if he were being completely honest, he was more of a chocolate muffin kind of guy, but that was besides the point. The point was, he wanted to see them really bad and he was ready to throw a tantrum if he didn’t get to.

As he came up to the first door, he didn’t see anyone around immediately. He was thankful that he was cloaked so that his radius didn’t give him away, but he also didn’t want to spend too long peeking through every little corner to try to find someone when it was just as likely that both survivors were already opening the other gate. So, as a little compromise with himself, he did a quick scan of the more obvious places someone would hide before making his way towards the final gate they could be at, having to release his cloaking so that he could move faster and get there sooner. There was a small tickle at the back of his mind, like a metaphorical pinch and pull of his ear… but his brain. He grumbled and swatted the air around his head - he knew he needed to focus, the Entity poking at him wasn’t really helping. Finally, after what felt like hours, he finally made it to the door which was, in fact, just about to be finished opening.

And there they were. Both of them.

His darling was holding the lever down and, much to his relief, the survivor next to them was that little scardy cat that was always tucking himself away in lockers. Not much of a spine on that guy, so he definitely wasn’t someone he needed to worry about - and he wasn’t even that attractive. Had that boring midwestern look to him… Michigan, maybe? He wasn’t sure but he also didn’t have the time to really care.

Danny chuckled and cloaked again, sneaking around as the little nobody scanned through the trees behind the two of them. He almost clicked his tongue at his darling not looking around either - surely they knew better than to keep their eyes forward, even with someone at their back!

Once he was in a good position, and just about to be spotted by the little lookout, he lashed out and gave him a good, deep gash down his side. The punk cried out and immediately ran off, leaving his ‘friend’ defenseless. It was tempting to go after him, but he didn’t want to waste the time - the door buzzed loudly and started to open. He whipped around to see them rushing the door, muttering under their breath for it to open faster. He grunted and lunged forward, grabbing their bicep and pulling them toward him. His frown deepened as they fought against him, trying to pull away from him and get to freedom. He finally let himself click his tongue at them and shook his head, holding them tight enough to let him get his arms around them.

“Don’t be like that, I just wanna talk!” He chuckled, though he was glad he was wearing his mask because he just was not in the mood to even smirk, “Why haven’t you even tried to talk to me all trial? It really hurt my feelings, you know?” He sighed as they didn’t respond, only hitting against his chest and trying to push him away. He shook his head again and dug his knife into their hip, pulling their attention away from escape and to their pain. And, with that settled, he leaned down a little and lifted them onto his shoulder; maybe some time on the hook would serve them well.

“Not really sure your little buddy there is gonna come back for you, ya know? Open door, and,” He paused, grunting as he tossed them up onto the hook again, watching for a moment as the Entity’s claws came down to start trying to get at them, “A killer standing right in front of you? Wouldn’t make for an easy save, that’s for sure.” He crossed his arms and looked away for a moment towards the door, raising a brow when he saw the little guy from earlier just… standing there and watching. He almost growled, his lips silently coming up into a snarl before turning his attention back to his darling once more before heading toward the gate to get that little fucker.

“Meet me in the forest after you die. We need to have a talk.” Danny reached around the arms of the Entity to pat their cheek before turning back towards the door to see if he could snag that little shit stain - also counting himself a little lucky for remembering to give an offering to the Entity that let him kill at least one of the survivors by his hand - healthy or not. He didn’t plan to let this fucker leave so easily.

And as he made his way to the gate, he hoped that they decided to meet with him like he said. It would be quite unfortunate for the next trial’s survivors if they didn’t.

#dbd ghostface x reader #ghostface x reader #dbd ghostface #dbd fanfic #ghostface #reader insert #dead by daylight reader insert #dead by daylight fanfiction #dead by daylight ghostface #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fiction #slasher fanfic #slasher reader insert

[hostess-of-horror]

Heaven Sent WIP Intro

Post Inspired by @theboarsbride

I've been having the story idea for a while now and I figured I go on and write down the WIP intro for it! Mind you, this is only a way for me to gather my thoughts and introduce the overall concept. Whether or not I will actually attempt to write at least a “chapter” of it is undecided at the moment.

Title: Heaven Sent

Genre: Slasher Horror, Thriller, Gothic (Slightly? Maybe?), Splatterpunk

Status: Haunting my mind/only discussed and told with mutuals

Themes: Loneliness and how it changes people; desperation; impatience; how fantasies of love and romance deludes the inexperienced; motherhood and womanhood as both a blessing and a curse

Warnings: Extreme graphic violence, including homicide via mutilating a bunch of teenagers, one-sided incest between a mother and her adopted son, themes of sexual abuse, themes of sexuality

Synopsis:

Maryanne Buford is a lonely, middle-aged woman who adopts a young orphan boy named Ezekiel and raises him as her own. As the years go by, Maryanne makes a startling self discovery: she has fallen in love with Ezekiel, who becomes more and more handsome as he ages. When he reaches the age of 15, she begins to believe that her adopting him was a “heaven sent” blessing. A miracle from God – a destined fate of their eventual , eternal “love affair.”

But one day, Ezekiel comes home from high school and tells Maryanne that he has found a girlfriend. This sets off Maryanne and she plunges into depths only the most depraved had ever gone in. It first started off as mere jealousy and fear, which leads to the gruesome murder of Ezekiel's girlfriend. But as the blood of innocent girls begins to spill on the streets of her Midwestern town, Maryanne Buford becomes a self-proclaimed “mother of all mothers.” She hopes to protect her son and future mate from the “sinful whores” of his generation.

---

Again, making an attempt to put my thoughts together and see how you all think of it! Also, in case you're wondering: no, I absolutely do not condone anything that this story has to offer. This is all just for the sake of writing horror! I am not some creep who likes minors, or a serial killer! Thank you!

#original story #my writing #Heaven Sent #horror fiction #slasher fiction #wip intro #brainstorm #story concept #cw graphic violence #cw gore #cw incest #cw sexuality #horror

[hydralisk98]

"Mayhem in Limbo Space" Meme Compilation for August-2023

Never gets old...

A robot, a droid, my life for a synthetic!

The "Lion from the North" song and its overall "Carolus Rex" music album from Sabaton

So that oldie angsty meme collection is cool and all but seems to be some great potential for making short memetic scenes.

I can imagine at least one short film around that compilation, as a eldritch twist on a generic horror short film turning from a "cabin in the woods" into a "war action sequence" situation between the slasher and the final girl, going terribly haywire for the aggressor as the lady gets her revenge and goes apeshit onto society henceforth for allowing such a criminal to go unpunished.

Most likely occurring within the context of a German Axis-victory world months before the nuclear Endekrieg / Armageddon if I am to guess (might be TNO, TWR, MachineGames' Wolfenstein, Jin-Roh The Wolf Brigade, AlternateHistoryHub's or literally something custom of that authoritarian feel). Set somewhen in a early-middle seventies (~1973-1975) around Rostock and the overall state of Mecklenburg, retro analog video editing workflow and with a slow-burn Stalker 1979 + AlienTheEighthPassenger 1979 with political thriller intrigues & a mass surveillance extremely restricted computation vibe going across.

#maskoch #meme #youtube #vigilante #slasher fiction #axis victory #wolfenstein #Youtube

[dead-air-radio]

#autassassinophilia #gore lover #grunge aesthetic #grunge and pale #grunge alternative #dark and gloomy #emo aesthetic #alt aesthetic #grungy aesthetic #grungy blog #grungy style #grungy girls #grunge #alternative #horror #cw: gore #soft gore #gorewhore #horror fiction #horror film #jason voorhees #slashers

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

#jason voorhees #satire #flowers #friday the 13th #random #Antagonist #fictional character #cosplay #american slasher film #american slasher movies #80s slasher movies

[fragileheartbeats]

"but he's a-"

dude I'm someone who been in mental hospital for like two years, you think I care?

#i'm mentally ill #what did you expect? #you think i give a fuck about what they did? #They are fictional characters #hotd #hotd x reader #aegon x reader #aegon the second #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #maegor x reader #house targaryen #yandere x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #homelander x reader

[spookychick78]

Wanna Be Yours

Peepaw Myers X GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,558

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who are you?" You whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

"Michael," you whispered up at him.

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

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

"Why are you here?"

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

"Are you going to kill me?"

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

"Wait," you demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mine," he growled, low and harshly.

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

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

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

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

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

"Say it," he repeated with malice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#michael myers smut #michael myers x reader #peepaw myers #michael my beloved #michael audrey myers #halloween #slasher #slasher fandom #horror #horror fiction #slasher fanfiction #horror fanfiction #horror fan #slasher x reader #michael myers #horror writing #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #creative writing #fanfiction #slasher fucker #slasher oneshot #slasher smut

[zombie-hickey]

He'd take one look at me and wouldn't be able to kill me. I'm just too fuckable and adorable. One look at me and he'd be in love. He'd love me. You just don't get it. I'm the exception to his wraith. You don't understand. I'm definitely his type.

#vee's a monster #I'm delusional over fictional killers/villains #convincing myself guys who would absolutely kill me wouldn't kill me just cause I'm sweet and cute like how could they #slasher fucker #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #brahms heelshire #jason voorhees #billy lenz #billy loomis #stu macher #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #stefano valentini #ruvik victoriano #karl heisenberg #eyeless jack #ticci toby #hobo heart #mdni

[slashv1xen]

dating bo sinclair head cannons - fluff

these are only SFW, i don’t write NSFW sorry 💗

he is DEFINITELY a show off, he will do anything to hear praise (he also definitely has mommy issues). and when he does? oh boy he’ll do either 1 of 2 things:

he smirks and says some teasing line, but the tips of his ears would be red and he would be thinking about that little praise CONSTANTLY (though he’ll never admit that)

if he’s in an emotional/vulnerable state (ex. he’s having a breakdown and you soothe him) he’ll probably either start crying or cry harder. (this is due to the awful treatment his mother gave him, plz give him the love he deserves)

his type is either an extremely feminine bimbo OR someone who is grunge/alt (if you’re grunge/alt, the two of you will listen to old rock/metal CD’s)

following off the last one, bo would definitely listen to nine inch nails/deftones/type o negative, that kinda music. and if you like that type of music he would take the CD’s from his victims so the two of you could listen to them together

on the other end of the spectrum, if you were a bimbo he would teasingly make fun of your naivety and stupidity (only him, we all know what happens if someone else made fun of you, especially if they were passerbys in the town)

he would stare at you with a soft smile on his face as he admired you getting ready (brushing your hair, putting on makeup, brushing teeth etc).

he is traditional and old-fashioned, he expects you to take on housewife duties while he works kills

as often he’s portrayed as “constantly grumpy and cruel” (which isn’t much of a shocker) i think that he has a soft side (possibly the softest of the sinclair brothers), although he has an extremely strong exterior (he’s also the definition of toxic masculinity, thanks trudy) so it is very difficult to see the softer side of him

he loves cats and you can’t tell me otherwise (ex. if you asked him for a pet cat he would say something like “there’s enough things to take of ‘n this house ‘nd you want a damn cat?” but he would return from work luring victims with a small kitten (probably a ragdoll or a york chocolate) and a small grin on his face)

he’s HEAVY on pet names, such as darlin’, baby, sweetheart, etc.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #fem!reader #house of wax (2005) #house of wax #fan fiction #headcannons #sfw #fluffy #slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you

[horrorwhores-posts]

Halloween haze

Summary: you lose your boyfriend at a Halloween party and things get a little hazy.

word count: 2,605

warnings: SMUT (minors do not interact), plot before porn, gore, murder, infidelity.

Authors notes: first time ever writing smut so if it bad please let me know 🥹

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. Dressing up, whether it be spooky or sexy, was always fun. This year my boyfriend decided to take me to one of his frat parties to celebrate with booze and music. I waded through the crowd of tightly packed bodies, balancing my drink above my head to keep it from spilling. When I was finally free from the mob of drunk party goers I smoothed down my skirt. Today I was dressed pretty simply, just a black tutu, a white crop top with a bow tie, and clown makeup adoring my face. It was the easiest thing I could muster at the last minute. I made my way back to where I left my boyfriend, before I went to get my drink. The spot where he was sitting on the couch was empty and I scanned the bodies around me to see if I could see him. Slightly tipsy and not minding my step I accidentally bumped into a hard, warm body. My hand gripped onto a white, satiny costume to try and balance myself despite my spinning vision. I craned my neck up the tall figure to see a fellow black and white clown. His costume is a lot more intricate than my own. I finally looked at his face and he smiled down at me with a big smile.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention. But hey, at least we’re matching.” I giggle my last words as I let go of his costume. His smile seemed to widen as he gestured to himself and then back at me, giving me a thumbs up. I drunkenly giggle again before I ask my next question. “Hey have you um- seen my boyfriend? He’s brunette, dressed as the Grim reaper. He was just over there.” I gesture over to where he was sitting on the couch. “But now he’s gone.” I look back at my fellow clown companion with the best puppy eyes I could muster. The clown frowned at my face before shrugging his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his back. I huffed with annoyance. Not at my new friend of course, but at my boyfriend who was notorious for ditching me and showing up out of nowhere an hour later with a plausible excuse. “Well..” I sighed. “Thanks anyway, if you see him tell him to find me, alright?” I looked at the clown expectantly. He placed his palm to his forehead in a salute and marched away. I giggled as we parted ways.

Continuing my hunt for my boyfriend, I found myself on the second floor with the bedrooms, bodies pressed against the walls in feverious making out. My eyes landed on my boyfriend’s room, the door was shut and I could see his red light emanating from under the door. My stomach sank even in my drunken state. I was VERY familiar with that red light, with all the nights I spent under and on top of him. Everything started to spin as I got closer to the door, the cold metal of the knob nipped at my hot skin. With a shuddering breath, I twisted my wrist, cracking the door just a smidge. I could hear faint moaning and the sound of skin slapping skin. I closed my eyes as I leaned towards to crack, praying silently that I was overthinking. With one last shaking breath I willed myself to open my eyes. My world came crashing down as I confirmed it was him. I know that head full of brown mussed hair, those broad shoulders, and that big tattoo on his back. My eyes watered as I fought back the urge to sob, or to wretch, I’m not fully sure. As I backed away from the door my body collided with a familiar body. I craned up and saw the clown from before. He frowned at the crack in the door and finally back at my tear stained face. He gently caressed the side of my face, his thumb wiping my tears away. The surprising act of kindness caused the dam to break behind my eyes. A sob ripped from my chest as I roughly pushed past my new found friend, running to get as far away from the scene as possible.

Before I knew it I found myself in the backyard, on my hands and knees, gagging into the grass. The cry’s that came from me were almost animalistic, as a crowd gathered around me. A body gently kneeled next to my shivering body and wrapped a thick, heavy object around my shoulders. I looked up through wet lashes and saw Trevor. My boyfriend’s best friend. He gave me a look of pity and understanding as he gently rubbed my shoulders in a reassuring manner.

“Come on, leave the girl alone!…” he barked as he picked me up and made his way through the crowd. “Get out of my way!” He pushed us through the crowd and led me away from the wandering eyes. We ended up in a little gazebo surrounded by tall, dense bushes that provided us the isolation we needed. Gently placing me on the bench, he sat next to me and gently rubbed my back. My crying had died down to sniffles, gazing at the ground. Trevor moved his hand away from my back and I heard him shuffle around for a little bit until I heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter click. Before I could fully register there was a cigarette in my line of sight. With quivering hands I grasped into the small stick and brought it to my chapped lips. Inhaling the smoke deeply, I felt the familiar burn at the back of my throat. “How long.” I felt my raw voice croak. I felt Trevor tense next to me and I slowly moved my head to look at him. He sighed and shook his head. “You don’t want to know.” I felt my heartbreak even more and something bubbled in me. Taking a drag, I tried to calm my nerves but I couldn't help the question that came out of my mouth. “Has it been the same bitch?” I asked him, a hint of anger lacing my words. He looked up from his fidgeting hands in surprise and when he made eye contact he knew I was playing. “At first, no. But he’s been consistently seeing this one girl lately.”

“Lately.” I chuckled in disbelief, taking a puff of my cigarette.

“Yeah. A freshman, Cassidy smith. He’s been fucking her for three months now.” He murmured. Something about that sentence stoked the fire in my chest. I took a final hit of my nicotine stick before throwing it down the ground. I stood and pretty much marched back to the house, completely ignoring Trevor’s pleas to come back and not to go in. My chest heaved as I walked through the back door, my rage spiked as I looked around the crowd. I must have looked feral because all the eyes I met had fear laced through them. I stomped towards and up the stairs with a passion. Once again I was face to face with my boyfriend’s bedroom. The same red light was glowing around the border of the door. I debated on pounding and screaming on the wood, or just barging in. Deciding on the latter I gripped the handle and pushed the door open. “You stupid son of a-“ My eyes finally focused on the scene in front of me, and all the rage drained from me. The only emotion I was left with was terror as I slowly backed away from the horrid sight in front of me. My boyfriend, or what was left of him, was laying on the ground. His head resembled ground beef and his body was mutilated, his arms were broken at the elbows and one of his legs was crushed. His stomach was gutted open and his insides were spread out everywhere. Even some of his intestines hug from the ceiling fan. Still backing up, I heard the door shut behind me. I jumped and turned to see my new friend. His black and white Silhouette was covered in blood and his face was emotionless. He stepped towards me and I took an unconscious step back.

“Did you do this?” I asked cautiously. He smiled and opened his hands out in a tada motion. My head was reeling with a lot of different emotions as the clown stood in front of me, his smile faltering as I stayed silent. His eyes lit up and he stuck a finger out towards me, telling me to wait. He turned and fumbled around until he finally turned to me, his hands clasped around something. He knelt down on one knee and opened his hands to reveal his gift. In his large palm sat a severed female finger, with a beautiful pearl ring adoring it. “For me?” I asked in shock, my hand flying to my chest, feeling my heart beat rapidly. He nodded enthusiastically and then finally looked at the gift himself. Scrunching his eyebrows together he tried removing the ring from the finger, but it seemed to be stuck. Anger flashed on his face as he stuck the digit into his mouth and yanked back. That seemed to cause the ring to dislodge and he spit the phalange onto the floor. The pearl band sat in his large hand, sticking my left hand out, he slid it onto my ring finger. Before standing back to his full height he gave my hand a gentle kiss. I felt a blush creep over my face as I shyly hung my head, looking at the ring on my finger.

I felt a large hand softly stroke my cheek, slowly dipping down to my chin, pulling it up to look at the man in front of me. My breath caught in my throat as he bent over to my height. His dark eyes were swirling with emotion, and his long nose lightly tapped against mine. I let out a breathy chuckle and his shoulders shook with a silent laugh. I finally closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his. They were surprisingly soft as our lips melded together. I felt the man let go of my face and slowly let his hands travel down my sides.

His hands halted on my hips, deeply kneading the skin there. The kiss deepened as I softly whined into his mouth. Our tongues danced as his hands slipped from my hips down to the swell of my ass, roughly grasping it, lifting me to his height. I wrapped my arms around his neck as my legs went around his waist, moaning as he lifted me like I was weightless. He broke the kiss with a smirk as he quickly turned and pressed my body against the cold wall. A shiver wracked up my spine as he pinned me there, his arms braced on either side of my head with his thigh bracing me up, and meeting with my thinly covered core. I needily ground my hips down as I whined. The friction caused my sensitive clit to throb. The clown in front of me watched me with his full attention. His mouth hung open as his hand slowly moved from the wall, sneaking up underneath my top and grabbing onto my bare breast. His thumb swiped over my nipple right as my clit rubbed perfectly against his leg, and my orgasm came to me in waves. The clown muffled the loud moan that escaped me by crashing his lips against mine, continuing to tweak my nipple to help me ride out my high as my hips slowly stopped jerking against him. Breathing heavily, I slumped against the wall as he grabbed my ass, lifting me up yet again. My arms limply supported myself as he turned back around and started walking. After a few steps he came to a halt, and I suddenly felt the sensation of falling.

I landed on something soft and wet. Realizing the clown dropped me on to my boyfriend's blood soaked bed, I felt another wave of want flow straight to my core. I perched myself on my arms as I looked at the black and white clad man in front of me. His smirk grew as he watched my eyes follow his hand down to the very noticeable tent in his outfit. His head was thrown back as he palmed himself over the satin material of his costume. My legs slowly widened for him as my cunt clenched around nothing. He looked back at me with hooded eyes and watched as I slowly slid my panties to the side. I dipped my fingers into a puddle of blood that was next to me; the thick slime coating them. I watched the man in front of me, his eyes locking onto my hand as I slowly led my fingers back to my aching cunt. The cold liquid caused me to close my eyes and hiss in pleasure as I dragged my fingers around my still tender bud. The sound of ripping fabric caught my attention, suddenly looking back at the clown. There was a new hole on his costume and his hard dick poked through. It was red, hard (almost pulsing), long and curved. My mouth watered and he gripped the base and slowly stroked his length. Precum dripped from the tip as he leant over me, slowly dragging his tip through my slit. I fell onto my back as his head nudged my clit, moaning embarrassingly loud. Slowly trailing back down, his tip sat at my entrance. I locked eyes with him and whispered out a breathy “please”, he slowly slipped into me. My eyes rolled back with my mouth hung open, he stilled as he was fully seated inside me. His hand gripped the back of my neck and yanked it up a bit. My eyes fluttered open and he looked back at me, almost as if waiting for the go ahead.

“Fuck me.” I almost commanded the man as a sinister smile broke out across his face. His hands immediately gripped my hips with a bruising strength, and snapped his hips out of me. With the tip barely still inside me, his dick snapped back into me. I yelped as he continued the fast and brutal pounding, the tip of his dick dragging right against that special spot, causing me to see stars. The knot in my stomach continued to tighten as the sound of my wet pussy taking him filled the room. Tears fell out of the corner of my eyes as my mind melted into pleasure. I could feel my knuckles turning white with how hard I was gripping the sticky sheets below me, almost at the brink or my climax. I suddenly felt a tight grip on my throat as my oxygen and blood supply was cut off. The room started spinning as I felt my pussy clench him with a vice grip. My orgasm crashed through my body as my vision blurred and my pulse pumped in my temples. I clawed at his arm as his hips stuttered and I felt him cum inside me. Finally his hand released its grip from my neck and I heaved a breath into my burning lungs. His large figure laid limp over my body and I felt sleep overtake me. As I curled up under his warm body like a blanket, I finally felt protected and at peace.

#art the clown #terrifier 2 #david howard thornton #slashers #terrifier movie #art the clown x reader #art fan fiction #terrifier x reader #terrifier art the clown #terrifier smut #art the clown smut

[mrs-mag1c]

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

BILLY LOOMIS

"I Wanna Make You My Final Girl"

STU MATCHER

"When you scream, it drives me nuts If you hang up, I'll spill your guts"

PATRICK BATEMAN

All I Want For Christmas Is You

You and Patrick need to get ready for the upcoming Christmas party, but suddenly your preparation turns out into something spicy.

No One But You

Even a man like Patrick Bateman needs some love and care when he's sick.

ETHAN LANDRY

Ego Boost

ethan doesn’t understand why you’re limping

Surprise Getaway

Ethan loved you more than you could ever know, but the problem was he was trying to get himself to understand he could choose you over his family - someone who could give him a life of happiness and not murder. So when you surprise him with a trip to your cabin normally used for trips in the winter before you both go off to college, he finds out he could live a life with you he initially didn’t think was possible. And maybe, just maybe, he can get away from his family once and for all, and stay with you.

Ethan Landry As Your Boyfriend

I Understand Im Not The Only One For You

jealous and pouty ethan with a popular gf

BO SINCLAIR

Prom

Bo tries to do something nice for his s/o

KEVIN KHATCHADOURIAN

New Neighbours

eva practically begged kevin to go with her to welcome the new neighbors. just to mess with her, he went, but god was he surprised to find you.

#billy loomis #stu macher #patrick bateman #ethan landry #bo sinclair #kevin khatchadourian x reader #kevin khatchadourian #patrick bateman x reader #american psycho #scream #slashers #ghostface #slasher smut #we need to talk about kevin #fic recomendation #fic rec #fiction #fanfic rec #stu matcher x reader #billy loomis smut

[chubbyreaderchan]

Okay but Lost Boys x y/n who is really into historical fashion and like the boys are all "No, it's more like this," and then they help them be more accurate and like... Give them stuff they used to wear in the time period because I'm 70% sure those boys are kinda hoarders.

#reader insert #fan fiction #slashers x reader #x reader #poly lost boys x reader #tlb x reader #fluff #the lost boys x reader #romance #the lost boys #david tlb #david x reader #dwayne x reader #marko x reader #paul x reader #vampires

[cherubdollyy]

NSFW ABC - Bubba Sawyer

18+ MDNI

author's notes: reader's gender isn't specified but there is a quick reference to breasts and language eluding to specific genitals etc but I tried to cover all bases (so you can pick and choose what suits you.). Voyeurism is mentioned and light bdsm. One very minor mention of animal death but I promise it's not sad!!

Bubba is my sweet baby boy and I love him so much so I hope you guys enjoy!!! <3

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex) - super clingy and cuddly. You're not going anywhere while bubba is in his afterglow. He feels possessive of you but he also wants you to feel so loved after doing the deed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's) - he's a little self concious and it took him a LONG time before he could even think about taking his mask off in front of you. But with all the praise and love you show him he's learnt to love himself especially his squishiness because that's what he loves about you. He loves how soft and kind and innocent you are and the gentle touches you give him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) - Seeing you on your knees with his cum dripping out of your mouth makes him go wild. A lot of the times he cums quickly because he's an excitable boy and everything is pretty new to him. You're both often a mess by the end of it, cum dripping out of you, him smeared with your juices but he'll always clean you up. It doesn't matter how tired you both are, he'll take a cool wet cloth and wipe you up so gently taking his time to get every inch. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) - Bubba is a bit of a perv. He doesn't want to admit it, mainly because he hasn't had a lot of time to express himself sexually so he doesn't know how to communicate what he wants. He often watches you change. He'll try and peek through the door to watch you undress but he's not very quiet about it. He also masturbates a lot when you've gone to town to get supplies. When he's in his workshop he'll unzip his pants and pump himself while thinking about you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?) - our boy doesn't have a lot of experience but he's eager to learn. He tends to become a bit animalistic as he just responds to his body's needs when he sees you naked and playing with yourself. But with time he's able to get to know what he loves.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) - He loves when you're on top. He loves looking up at you and being able to grab your tummy and/or breasts. He's able to guide your hips and play with your nipples but he also loves it when you take the pace and tease him by slowing down.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) - He doesn't tend to have the time to goof around. Once one of you is in the mood he's got his pants down and is raring to go (which unintentionally makes you laugh). But you can both have a giggle at yourselves.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) - He's a beast. He has thick dark hair all over his arms and chest and his pubic hair is no different. He keeps himself nice and clean in the texas heat by taking a cool bath every night but he's pretty simple as just a soap and wash cloth kinda guy. No need for trimming or waxing here.

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) - He can be a little feral at first but he is a really sappy guy. He loves kissing you deeply and watching you sleep afterwards. He'll stroke your hair and hold you close and he'll be super clingy the next day, hugging you from behind and picking you flowers from the garden.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) - He loves to masturbate but he feels a little guilty about it afterwards. You tell him it's completely natural and most people do it, encouraging him if it makes him feel good. You take a few sexy snaps of yourself for him to have fun with when he's by himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) - He's a bit voyeuristic, watching over you in the garden as you bend over to tend to the plants, he can't help but feel his trousers becoming tighter. He also loves fucking you on the kitchen table when everyone else is out, the risk of not knowing when they'll be back. Other than that he doesn't really know much about kinks and is still exploring what he enjoys. Anything that you want to do though, he's eager to try out.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) - It used to be that you wouldn't bother bubba in his workshop but one day you couldn't help yourself, you just missed him and wanted to keep him company. It's become a bit of a habit to do it in his workshop now especially when the house is full. There's a bit of risk that they'll hear but not enough that they'll come in. Sometimes when you have to go to town you'll take Bubba in the truck with you and stop off on the side of the road. He won't fully relax, eyes darting convinced someone will see and the risk will make him explode. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) - Honestly he'll watch you with so much love in his eyes from you doing the dishes to tending the garden, he's normally very sappy. But sometimes the breeze will blow your skirt up just right or you'll be reaching up to put groceries away and your t-shirt will ride up. Something small like that can flood him with dirty thoughts of what he wants to do to you which often leads you to being grabbed and kissed by complete surprise. 

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs) - He would have a lot of trouble hurting you. Even if you explained to him that it felt nice he wouldn't feel comfortable slapping or whipping you so BDSM isn't really something he'd enjoy but he would like tying you up. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) - He doesn't have a preference he loves both! He LOVES eating you out/sucking you dry, he's surprisingly a natural at it. His frantic tongue movements never fail to make your toes curl.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) - He starts off a little manic and fast because he's so excited and as he gets closer to cumming his thrusts become more erratic and sloppy so you can always tell when he's close.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) - Bubba loves quickies! Often that's what you'll have to do as the house is always full of people and you get chastised by Drayton for being dirty.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) - He likes the thrill of perhaps getting caught but it would never be too much of a risk. He couldn't have anyone seeing him from outside the family or without his mask on as that's too stressful for him. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) - Tbh he cums fairly quickly and doesn't have a lot of stamina due to the intense texas heat but after you've both cooled down a little and perhaps even dozed off you'll feel his hard member pressing into your back, eager for another round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) - Any toys are introduced by you (he doesn't exactly have an easy way of getting them) and he's open to playing with them. The first time you used a vibrating cock ring on him he was out of it for a week. One thing he does have easy access to is chains, electrical tape, and ropes so if you express an interest in being tied up he's happy to comply!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) - He didn't have an interest at first and would find it quite infuriating when you would edge and tease him but he soon appreciated how good the end result felt. He wondered if he could pull it off on you and one day when giving you oral you begged and begged if you could cum and that's when he stopped. Hearing your whining and the need in your voice you had for him made him feel powerful and you had a looong night ahead of you that night.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Very loud, lots of incomprehensible gibberish and whimpering. When you're having sex, everyone is gonna know about no matter how hard he tries to keep quiet.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) - He's very good with animals. One of the chickens died and even though he thinks she'll make a nice lamp he can't leave those little chicks alone. You find him keeping them warm and making sure they have food and water. When he goes out into the garden they come running and you often find him out there with all the young chickens in his lap. (If I could draw this OMG I WOULD)

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes) - He's a big boy with a chunky soft body. He's covered in dark hair, his arms are big and he's very strong. He's about 4-5 inches and VERY thick, uncircumsised with a bush of curly dark hair.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) - Very high let's be honest. Sometimes it's too hot and you're not in the mood so he'll run into his workshop to take care of himself. A victim once left a polaroid camera and you took a few sexy shots of yourself for him to keep in there.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward) - Very quickly, often with you held close in his arms. 

#my writing #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #monsters #mask kink #horror x reader #leatherface x reader #leatherface fanart #texas chainsaw massacre fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer smut #tcm smut #tcm fanfic #horror smut #slasher x reader

[b-00-biez]

Smut drabble #1

"F-fuck please let me cum! " you pleaded, you couldn't take the rough pounding you had to endure. Your poor insides giving up as it welcomes him in so easily.

"Shhh. You should've thought about that before you flirted with that guy at the bar! " your husband said as he pounded into you roughly your insides churning with his cum and your wetness. "No guy will ever fuck you like I can. " he whispered into your ear as he pulls your chin to look at your entrance, the way it just envelopes him, the way he thrusts into you like a mad man and the way it makes you drool for more.

"Cmon look at your sweet little hole stretching and welcoming my fat cock in. You love being a brat" he was right. The reason you were flirting in the first was to rail him up and it worked, maybe a bit too much.

"We got all night love, and you'll be thinking of me and my cock. " he said. Fuck, you're in for it now.

#smut #drabble #slashers x reader #slasher fucker #slasher x you #slasher imagines #slasher smut #fictional characters

[y3strr]

yea he kills, but he’s hot

#slashers #slasher movies #michael myers #ghostface #halloween movie #horror #horror movies #stu macher #the joker #bo sinclair #scream #house of wax 2005 #anime #anime characters #fictional characters #how 2005 #bookworm #book boyfriend #booklr

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

ℭ𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔓𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔪

#Crow Phantom #art #artwork #american slasher film #horror movies #classic horror movies #antagonist #fictional characters #halloween #a nightmare on elm street #friday the 13th #michael myers #freddy krueger #jason voorhees #chucky #illustration #painting #artworks