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#slasher x reader
slasherhaven · 2 days ago
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Can I get some angst with Thomas where in the beginning of their time together when reader is still pretty unsure about Hewitts and their situation with them, Hoyt sees reader and Thomas start to become friendly and he starts telling the reader that Thomas is like the other Hewitt men and is only being nice to the reader to lower their guard and assault them. While reader doesn’t fully believe it, they do start to not spend as much alone time with Thomas just to be safe. Then one day Thomas catches Hoyt in the act and confronts him.
Warnings: illusions to rape and sexual assault (no assault actually happens or has happened to the reader), Hoyt being a creep, illusions to cannibalism
Hoyt trying to convince you that Thomas Hewitt is only planning on taking advantage of you:
Ever since 'joining' the Hewitt family and becoming somewhat trusted within the walls of their home, you had been given your fair share of chores. As they had put it, everyone had to pull their weight. You never understood why they didn't just kill you, why they let you live, but you never felt thankful for it. What were you other than a hostage and a maid?
You were working through your list of chores, being halfway through cleaning the kitchen, when Hoyt walked in. You did your best to ignore his presence, as you usually did, but he never made it easy. No Hewitt made you feel as uncomfortable and on edge as Hoyt did.
"Tommy's took a shine to ya" Hoyt commented, not being deterred when you ignored him, "get real friendly, you two."
You just shrugged, not wanting to properly engage with the man. He wasn't wrong about you having been spending some time with Thomas.
The adjustment to your new life wasn't easy, it still isn't, but you had accepted it and accepted that you weren't leaving any time soon. After accepting that fact, you tried to make it as bearable as possible. You tried to get along with people, to become a valuable member to the household.
Luda May became kinder as you accepted your fate and started putting effort into being a part of the family, into making yourself useful and polite. Monty was as unwelcoming as ever, only growing more bossy with you about your chores. And Hoyt, well Hoyt was just as threatening towards you as he had always been.
Thomas had been an intimidating member of the family, and you had admittedly been afraid of him, but as you spent more time in the household you realised that he was different to the other men. He was quiet, kept to himself, always gave you space as if he was worried about making you uncomfortable, while nobody else seemed to care about that stuff. He was easier to grow close too since he gave you the space to do so, even if that hadn't been his intention, and now you found yourself spending more time with Thomas than any other member of the family.
Still, that didn't mean that you had completely become use to your new life.
"Can't believe you're fallin' for it" Hoyt chuckled to himself.
You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before turning to him. He wanted attention, a reaction. "What do you mean?" you hoped that if you have him what he wanted, you would leave you alone sooner.
"Tommy's little shy act. You can't tell me you're buying it" Hoyt continued, a spark igniting in his eyes now that he had you listening to him. "He might act all nice and timid around ya but he's still a Hewitt man, he ain't all that different to us" he informed you.
"What are you talking about?" you asked, growing impatient and more uncomfortable by the second. Especially when he walked up to you.
"He isn't immune to some pretty little thing that comes around here" he told you, reaching out to caress your cheek. You instantly cringed away from his touch and stepped back, away from him. "He only wants the same thing from you that I do. That any man would" he followed you, stepping towards you with every step you took away from him.
"You're lying" you shook your head, not believing that Thomas was anything like his relative.
"You think you're the first?" Hoyt scoffed, making you frown as your back made contact with the kitchen counter. Blocking any escape from Hoyt. "You ain't the first nice piece of ass to come around here, you ain't the first thing to catch Thomas' eye. He ain't no better than me, he's just convinced you he is. He's just getting ya to trust him, to let your guard down, to willing be alone with him and unsuspecting. He's waiting for ya to make yourself an easy target, probably take ya down in that basement, the screaming gets muffled down there...you're just too naïve to see it" by the time Hoyt was finished with his warning, he was looming over you, his face far too close to yours. You could smell the alcohol and smoke on his breath, causing you to turn your face away from him.
"You'll see soon enough, Sweetheart" he assured you with a sadistic smirk, squeezing your shoulder in a mock-friendly manner before turning and leaving.
Once you were alone in the room again, you let out a breath and dragged your hands through your hair before trying to focus your attention on your chores again. If you could finish cleaning you could hide away in your room for a while.
Could Hoyt be telling the truth, could Thomas have the same intentions as him? You couldn't believe it, you didn't want to believe it. Of course Thomas had done terrible things, unforgivable things, but ever since it was decided that you would be staying with them he hadn't so much as threatened you. He just...didn't seem like the type. Though you supposed people said that about plenty of disgusting people...were you just being naïve? Did Thomas just want to hurt you for his own gratification?
A few days passed and Hoyt's words hadn't been forgotten. You didn't fully believe them, you couldn't, but you had become more cautious around Thomas. Putting more distance between you both than you usually would, tensing slightly when he got a little too close, noticing his glances, catching him staring. You used to think he was just socially awkward and trying to figure out the best way to approach things, not used to having other people around, but now you wondered if something more sinister was going on in his mind.
Now when you were left alone in a room with him, you became uncomfortable. Luda May had asked you to fetch him from the basement and you froze at the top of the steps, remembering Hoyt's words.
The screaming gets muffled down there.
So, you had shouted down, hearing the panic in your own voice, before scurrying back to the kitchen.
Of course Thomas had noticed your behaviour and it confused him. If this was how you acted from the beginning, he would understand, you had every right to be terrified of him. However you had apparently become somewhat comfortable around him, even being friendly towards him, and now you were so clearly avoiding him and seeming uncomfortable in his presence.
He spent too much time trying to think of a reason for your change in behaviour. Had he done something to upset or offend you, had he done something to scare you? Thomas couldn't recall anything out of the usual. Just that one minute you were as comfortable as you could be, considering your situation, around him and the next you seemed afraid of him again.
It hurt. Thomas knew he had no right to be hurt by you, you should be afraid of him, you should hate him after everything you had experienced at the hands of his family but it hurt him.
Thomas was making his usual journey down to the basement, passing by the lounge door. From that door, he heard Hoyt's voice and something about his words made him pause. Normally he wouldn't care for what he was discussing, most likely with Monty, but what he heard just seemed...strange.
"He might be quiet but his mind is loud, just like mine, just like Monty's" Hoyt's voice taunted, making Thomas frown, confused as to what he was talking about and who he was talking too.
"Do ya think he's having innocent thoughts when he's watching ya? Do ya think he's sweet on ya or something? He only wants one thing and he's gonna get it. Ain't seen many people able to fight him off" Hoyt continued as Thomas inched closer to the lounge door, peering into the room to not be seen.
"Stop it" you begged, wrapping your arms around yourself and shaking your head at Hoyt's words.
"Stop what?...Telling you the truth? It's hard to hear, isn't it?" Hoyt laughed, mocking you. "I've told ya, he just wants to use ya and once you're all used up, he''ll get rid of ya" Thomas was disgusted by Hoyts words but even more disgusted by the implications. Was he really telling you that Thomas meant you harm, that he was going to...use you?
"You meant it...there were...others?" you asked, seeming to finally give in to Hoyt's taunting. Thomas felt like he had just received a punch to the gut, were you believing Hoyt's threats, his lies? He couldn't even blame you for it...
"Oh, plenty" Hoyt nodded. "We don't put them in the stews though, they're dirty. Ain't in no state to go in once Tommy is done with them" he explained, a smirk tugging at his lips when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.
You could only watch the man through watery eyes, horrified by what he was telling you. Was this the truth? Was that your fate? All you knew was that you would try to avoid such a fate for as long as you could, maybe Thomas wasn't the friend you had needed in this place.
By that point, Thomas had heard more than enough. The door slammed against the wall, making you flinch, as he entered the room.
"Thomas, there you are, boy. I was-" Hoyt didn't have time to finish his sentence, he fell silent as Thomas was already standing inches away from him, looming over the older man with a hard glare. His silent warning more than clear.
"What's got you all worked up?" Hoyt huffed, but even you noticed the way he backed down.
Thomas pointed at Hoyt and then at you, telling him exactly what had angered him.
"They're a nuisance, I keep telling you that" Hoyt rolled his eyes, apparently he didn't know why they had decided to keep you around either.
Not wanting to hear another word from Hoyt, Thomas turned to you. Instinctively, you took a step back. If he wasn't so furious, Thomas would have been more sensitive towards your obvious fear but he wasn't thinking straight.
A large hand clasped your shoulder, the grasp firm, as he escorted you out of the room.
"Looks like your time is up, Sweetheart" Hoyt chuckled to himself, warning you of your apparent impending doom. The way Thomas' fingers flexed and dug into your shoulder wasn't easing your mind at all.
As Thomas opened the basement door, you forgot how you breath. No, you forgot how to breath when he locked the door, the clicking sound ringing in your ears.
Without removing his grip, Thomas guided you down the stairs, making sure to keep you on your feet when you stumbled over the steps and your own feet.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he led you over to a table and finally released you. Though, breathing didn't become any easier.
"Please, Thomas. You don't have to do this" you pleaded, tears wetting your cheeks and blurring your vision.
You were barely even conscious of him scribbling something down in a notepad and holding it out to you. As he pushed the notepad towards you, you slowly came to your senses. He was trying to tell you something.
After wiping the tears from your eyes, though it didn't stop them from falling, you took the notepad. As your vision came into focus, you could read the words on the page.
'I have never. I would never' the handwriting was messy and the spelling imperfect but you could read it.
"Would never what?" you asked with a sniffle.
Cautiously, Thomas took back the notepad. You slowly began to calm down as you watched him write something else down. This time he left the notebook flat on the table, moving to the side so you could see it.
'I would never hurt you. I am not like him'
"He said...he said you've...that you've raped people...down here" you could barely even form the words, not wanting to voice them, to make them a reality. You could see that Thomas looked genuinely disgusted by the claim.
Turning his attention back to the notepad, he wrote, 'I would never do that'. He looked back at you and looked almost embarrassed for a moment before continuing to write, 'I haven't been with anyone'.
His response seemed honest, either that or he was a master manipulator. 'Hoyt wants you to be scared. I'm sorry he did that' you watched as he messily wrote across the page before taking a moment to think.
Of course Hoyt was lying. He was threatening you, trying to make you scared, to turn you against Thomas because you were practically under his protection these days. Hoyt wanted you to feel afraid and isolated...god, you were so stupid to believe him.
Thomas didn't think you were foolish in the slightest, however. Of course you were afraid, of course you would believe everything anyone said in order to protect yourself.
Feeling overwhelmed by the previous horror and sudden relief, fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. Thomas wanted nothing more than to comfort you but he didn't want to scare you further.
"I knew he was lying" you muttered as you uselessly wiped away the new tears. You had known it the first time he mentioned it but you let him get in your head.
"I'm sorry" you couldn't help but feel bad for believing he could do those vile things, especially after befriending him to an extent.
Feeling the need to comfort you, Thomas tentatively reached out and gently pet your hair. He knew it wasn't the best way to comfort you but he didn't want to push too many limits. He wanted you to knew that you didn't have to apologise to him, he understood why you believe Hoyt's lies, you were just trying to protect yourself. He hoped he could earn your trust.
Instantly, with the thoughts of Thomas being a monster expelled from your mind, you moved towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. He was a little startled by your actions but still wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his shirt as he stroked your hair.
"I'm scared, Tommy" you confessed quietly, feeling like he was the only person you could be honest with around here. If you had said that to one of the older men, they would use it against you, scare you more. If you had confessed it to Luda May, she would turn on you, treat you with more suspicion again. But Thomas understood.
And Thomas' heart did ache for you. He knew how afraid you must be, how confused and lost you must have felt.
He reached behind you with one hand, grabbing the pen and quickly writing something down. You didn't budge as he grabbed the notebook and brought it between you both, getting your attention.
With a small sniffle, you pulled away and looked down at the cluttered page. 'I'll keep you safe' was written with a heavy hand, deep lines making the words stand out to you.
"Thank you, Tommy" you whispered before practically melting back against his chest.
Thomas tossed the notebook away and returned to just holding you, focused on just comforting you. You hadn't realised how much you needed something as simple as a hug, some comfort, a feeling of security. Now, Thomas was giving it to you and you felt like you never wanted to let go.
There was a reason you could never believe Hoyt's claims, Thomas had been your only feeling of safety since you started staying in this place. He still was.
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spookyscaryslashy · 2 days ago
Text
More HCs (OG Michael x Reader)
Playing with his hair
The first time you try to touch his hair he recoils and blocks your arm. Initiating touch with Michael can be delicate. He is sensitive, and it can be overwhelming. His reflexes will default to violence.
There are activities that calm him. You’ve learned to tell the differences in his inhuman stillness. When he’s relaxed, his joints are less rigid, and his form less alert. Movies in particular help calm his mind, which calms his body, and you use a movie night to try again.
When one hand starts to pet his hair, his back straightens and he’s instantly alert. He looks at you with wide eyes, confused, and you smile back. Petting with your whole hand morphs to small circles with the pads of your fingers. He leans into you a little, and this earns him more pressure.
Electricity travels everywhere, short bursts of energy and pleasure lighting up his extremities. Not a sexual pleasure, that he could identify easily. He’s never felt this before.
You climb behind him and sit on the top of the couch and he lets you. Now two hands are in his hair, and the crackles of energy and pleasure double. His lips part a little and he exhales the breath he was holding.
When you introduce your nails—carefully, it’s clear his follicles are sensitive—his eyes roll back and his head lolls. He swallows thickly, and the faintest sigh escapes. He lets you pull him back a little more so his head rests against you some. His throat is fully exposed to you, a vulnerability he would never have allowed a few months ago.
Your nails on his scalp generate a warmth that radiates down his neck, into his chest, down his arms and into his core. Surrounded by your scent, with your fingers in his hair, lighting up his nerves with warmth and sensations he's never known, the room around him is gone. It is him, and you, and this single movement.
He should want to kill someone that could hold any sort of power over him, but… it’s you, and he doesn’t want to kill you. That driving hunger is dormant, the infuriating noise of the ordinary world is gone, everything is just you.
He opens his eyes and looks up at you as best he can. You kiss his hair, flooding his system with new warmths and sensations. A word comes to mind, one you use often but he’s never understood
Affection
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sunkendreams · 2 days ago
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Hey so I love all you work you are so talented and I was wondering if you could do a brahms heelshire x reader smut plz
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┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙤𝙣𝙚-𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩.
┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙝𝙢𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙭 𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙗!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧.
┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏/18+! 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚!𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙝𝙢𝙨, 𝙙𝙤𝙢/𝙨𝙪𝙗 𝙙𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙨, 𝙫𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠, 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙝𝙢𝙨, 𝙘𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙨, 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙.
┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 4,146.
┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 & 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨! 𝙄’𝙢 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩! 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚-𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙮𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙝𝙢𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙘𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚! 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙪𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 & 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮’𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮! ❤️
┊ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — @peachygothgirl ; @mrs-heelshire ; @slasherfantasy ; @loraxlola ; @the-wordis-bird ; @suguruswife ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @mehidktbh ; @darklylucid ; @lttlegore ; @the-anxious-youth ; @dootys ; @callmemeelah ; @bloodwithpeachmilk ; @krakersy ; @comicalrage ; @horrorstories123
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You graciously adhered to Brahms’s new rule about seeing less of Malcolm — any shred of excuse to keep the man away, you carried it out flawlessly. That didn’t mean you were exempt from guilt, and in fact, you found yourself feeling horrible about pushing the man away just to keep Brahms happy. He couldn’t know about the man in the wall, about the facade of the doll.
Admittedly, maybe it was better this way.
Malcolm was safe, shoved out of harm’s way and Brahms’s bitter jealousy, and you didn’t have to worry about the potential flirtation you might’ve received, not that it bothered you too much to begin with. Brahms was all you really had now, a man who was dealing with his own lengthy slew of issues.
The doll came with you everywhere you went, a macabre anchor that you couldn’t let go of. Maybe it was a little strange for you to carry it around even when you were fully aware of the truth, but it provided excellent company during the many times when the real Brahms wouldn’t show himself.
Learning to live with Brahms brought new challenges every single day, but the two of you were finally getting comfortable with one another. His tempestuous anger issues were beginning to settle ever so slightly, something that was reassuring, but he still had plenty to go.
There were no more gutted rats outside of your door, not recently, anyway. It’d been about two weeks since you’d seen one. You were thankful for that — getting rid of them was foul, but knowing Brahms did it to scare you was even more terrifying.
He was learning, though — the progress was slight, but it was better in increments instead of nothing at all. You tried your hardest to be a good teacher for Brahms, especially when it boiled down to his temper and his morality, but you didn’t think you were very qualified. Sometimes you wondered if it was worth it, trying to steer him in the right direction.
Your mind was racing, a hurricane of endless thoughts as you laid awake in bed, listening to the rancorous clap of thunder outside, the torrential downpour smacking against the glass. Your room had two, narrow doors that led to some tiny terrace, and you often kept the curtains drawn, but not tonight.
Moonlight pooled through the dirtied windowpanes, blurred by the haze of both fog and rain, glistening toward the fancy, Persian rug that was strewn across the hardwood floor. Wind whipped outside like an eerie whistle, blowing the rain down against the roof with quite a bit of force.
The noise and your scatterbrained state made it difficult to go to bed, and you tossed and turned, awake and alert as you stared at the dark, gossamer canopy that hung above you. These Victorian-style beds were massive and as old as dirt, but they were absolutely gorgeous all the same.
You often felt like royalty, even when you were sleeping in your guest quarters, nowhere near as beautiful as the master suite — you had a feeling that it would remain vacant for a very long time, but you’d gotten very comfortable with your current location. There was no reason to try and change.
Scrambling from bed, you drew the curtains shut, latching the terrace doors until they were sealed. Any shred of light was eclipsed by shadow, darkness swallowing you whole as you clamored back into bed, nestled into the comforter.
Placing your hands atop your stomach, you tapped your fingers against your abdomen, just above the thick blankets that draped across the bed. From the corner of your eye, you noticed your mirror move — the creaking noise that resonated across the room commanded your attention.
Goosebumps collected at the base of your spine as Brahms came crawling out of your mirror, something that you were relatively oblivious to until now. You knew he had tunnels all over this house, passageways to wherever he pleased, but the fact that your own mirror happened to be a doorway was mildly unsettling.
Your breath hitched within your throat, and you immediately sat up in bed, ogling in Brahms’s general with a pointed stare. He seemed to be unphased himself, staring right back at you, his eyes accustomed to darkness, filling in every inch of his height. You wondered how often he came into your room using the mirror.
“Brahms,” You whispered, and he cocked his head to one side. “You’re supposed to be asleep.” It was hypocritical to tell him to go to bed when you were lying here tossing and turning, unable to rest. Your lips parted slightly, hands clutching at the blankets that had pooled in a heap around your hips.
“You aren’t asleep.” He’d caught you within your own hypocrisy, which was to be expected. His voice was moderately high-pitched, childlike to retain that sense of innocence. It was more of a manipulative tactic, but he didn’t have to do that to you — not anymore.
“No, I’m not.” You hesitated, shrugging your shoulders. “I can’t sleep, not with this storm.” There was one option on the table that you knew Brahms would ask for, and you were already preparing yourself by scooting over. “You can’t sleep either, I’m guessing.”
Brahms shook his head, slowly creeping forward toward you, quick to climb into bed without you having to offer. The two of you slept together quite a bit, and to your embarrassment, you found yourself getting excited whenever he crawled into bed with you. You were getting attached, whether you realized it or not.
Attached could’ve been an understatement, in all actuality — you were craving his company. It was difficult, being all alone within the manor, and Brahms really was the only company you had. Even then, he enticed you, he fascinated you. You often wondered what was beneath that mask and childish facade, the tortured man suffering behind the veil.
His parents feared him and so did the rest of the world, but you? Your initial fear had turned to something else, blossoming into intrigue and affection. There was always that intimidation factor, but even then, most of it was being chipped away at.
Brahms craved company just as much as you did, if not more. Each night, he watched you sleep if he wasn’t in bed with you already, fantasizing about touching you, kissing you, whatever would satisfy his desires. It made him become so desperate, clinging to you every chance he got.
The sudden closeness never failed to make you shudder as Brahms sluggishly crawled through the tangle of blankets until he was right beside you. You smelled divine, like honeysuckle and vanilla, a mist of perfume that coated your flesh.
Those wandering hands of his found their way to your hips, kneading into your supple flesh, hidden underneath the frilly cloth of your nightgown. Brahms touched you like this often, his grasp laced with possessiveness, but never anything more. You expected him to lay down, but it was the opposite.
He was easing you down instead, attempting to crawl on top of you, and he was very nearly there until you intercepted it with a tone of disbelief. “Brahms,” You quipped, practically trembling underneath him, staring up into those dark eyes of his, beholden with an unrestrained lust. “W—What are you doing?”
Brahms’s breathing was terribly shaky inside of the mask, reverberating from within the porcelain, throaty with exhilaration. He was halfway on top of you, having crawled back toward your legs out of shame. His chest rose and fell, straining against the dingy, dirtied white tank he wore. There was a predatory sheen that glistened within his salacious glower.
“Kiss,” He rasped, palm settling against your thigh instead. Brahms wanted to make you feel good — he was oh so desperate for you to become his. That’s why you were here, wasn’t it? You were brought to him as his mate, his beloved. “Please.”
Your jaw tightened, a rush of heat striking you right between your thighs. You were a little nervous about all of this — you were barely experienced yourself, and Brahms was no expert. You didn’t know that he even wanted you like that to begin with, desired you sexually. Then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised.
“I—“ You very nearly told him to take the mask off, but that was too much of a demand. You’ve never seen his face before, but you knew there were burn scars all over the right half. “Okay,” Anticipation swirled within the pit of your stomach. “Come here, Brahms.” You whispered, attempting to hide the tremulous pitch within your voice.
He obeyed without pause, slinking back on top of you, his gaze burning a hole through you as he hovered above, lowering his face by little increments until you could barely make him out. You were paralyzed underneath him, but you weren’t clueless — you were just bewildered by the suddenness.
The shift in atmosphere was noticeable, tension crackling and palpable, like the sharp crack of a whip. It was sexually charged, desperate, wistful — you found yourself succumbing as moments ticked by. Without Malcolm, there was only Brahms, and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you all to himself.
Hesitant, you moved inward, sheepishly pressing your mouth against the cool porcelain of his mask, and the instantaneous reciprocation made your head spin. The hard, stiff material gnashed into your lips, and Brahms immediately began to rut into your thigh, grabbing you all over, wherever he could reach.
It got heated, and it got heated very quickly.
Strewn beneath him, your hands blindly grasped at the front of his collar, able to hear the audible hitch within the back of his throat. Brahms had wedged himself in between your legs, a snarl ripping past his lips, making some terrifying echo within the confines of his mask. He wanted you so terribly — he was going to get exactly what he wanted.
“Brahms, wa—wait,” You stammered, letting out some pathetic whine when his hand immediately forced its way to your core, concealed by silken undergarments. His clamoring, inexperienced hand went colliding with your slit, hastily rubbing over the growing patch of moisture within your panties. “Brahms.” You whimpered.
“No,” His voice was terrifyingly deep, defying you completely as he smashed his fingers against your cunt, desperate for any shred of friction. “I want you.” Brahms spoke with a sultry clarity, his voice some husky lull, twinged with an accent. “I want you now.” There was no asking — he was demanding.
You nodded in an attempt to reassure him, sliding your hands against his chest, feeling both taut muscle and hair underneath your fingertips. “Okay,” You weren’t going to say no. He’d gotten you so hot and bothered that there wasn’t any sense in turning back now. “But I want something, too.”
Brahms seemed willing to listen to you, a subdued look present within his stare as his lascivious gaze raked across your body. Your breasts were peeking through the satin material of your nightgown, chest rising and falling with a swiftness, just like his.
Once he was still enough, your hands began to pry his cardigan aside, wanting to rid him of some clothing if he was going to be doing that to you — it was only fair. Brahms was somewhat reluctant, but it was all worthwhile as your soft palms went gliding across his arms, nimble digits unbuckling his suspenders before you tugged at the white tank he wore.
His breathing sounded ragged, hoarse and raspy, heaving underneath the mask. Brahms was getting ahead of himself — he was eager, needy, hands tugging at your gown as soon as the white shirt came off. You couldn’t believe that this was happening, and happening so fast, but you needed him.
“Off,” Brahms growled, crudely tugging and clawing at your nightgown, in some frenzy to pry it off of your body. He whimpered when he saw you, beautiful and bare-chested, and all for him. He wanted to take the mask off, he wanted to kiss every inch of you. “So pretty.” He purred.
Through the pitch-black of your room, you couldn’t see Brahms — even then, it was so faint that it didn’t matter. You longed to see his face, but he’d been more than adamant about making you wait. Your fingers fumbled across his bare torso, skimming toward his shoulders as they found their purchase.
He wanted to be good for you so very terribly, wanted to make you feel good. Brahms carefully removed the porcelain mask, shakily setting it aside upon the nightstand. You couldn’t see the tangle of marred, poorly-healed burn scars that stretched from the right side of his face to his right shoulder — he preferred it that way, for now.
“Be gentle, Brahms,” You huffed, feeling him shift in between your legs, nimble fingers curling into the waistband of your panties. He was swift in their removal, yanking them down from your hips, pulling them off completely. “Be good.” You breathed, hoping he wouldn’t break you.
“I will, I promise.” Brahms’s voice was nearly a strained whimper, snuggling his head between your thighs. He pressed hungry kisses all along your inner thigh, practically lavishing your skin with his mouth, cock twitching and oozing precum within his pants. He stifled a moan, more than eager to taste you.
You knew exactly what he wanted, and you weren’t about to show any sign of protest as his greedy tongue swiped over your slit. You choked upon a moan, feeling his hands spread your thighs apart. His mouth was beyond enthusiastic, needy and hot as he lapped at your slit, letting out a whine here and there.
The taut heat within your belly threatened to explode, and your head lagged backwards into the mattress, a myriad of mewls and moans escaping you, intermingled with Brahms’s noises. “S—So good,” You stammered out your praises, listening to him purr as he thrust his tongue past your folds. “Good boy, Brahms. Keep going.” You groaned.
Brahms crooned, buried between your thighs, face nestled into your cunt as his tongue lapped at your soaked slit, collecting your arousal. He got off on any shred of praise and approval you gave him — it was addictive. You tasted amazing, and he became all the more eager to keep devouring you, more or less.
Masked by shadow, Brahms cared very little for whatever you happened to glimpse of him. It was so dark that you could barely make out his statuesque silhouette buried between your legs. His mouth was voracious, kissing and licking at your cunt, drawing out every shred of noise that he possibly could.
The satin fabric of your nightgown remained in some heap, bunched around your waist after Brahms had hastily pushed it aside. His enthusiasm and neediness made you sink into some lustful delirium, feeling his mouth kiss and lap at whatever he wanted. You succumbed to him so easily, and he was feeding off of that power.
Drawing his tongue up from your cunt, he wriggled his mouth against your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves, making you shiver and writhe underneath him. “Brahms.” You moan, one hand blindly fumbling to find his head of curly tresses, gingerly tugging on his hair.
A wistful groan escaped Brahms, who keened into the sensations brought about by your hand, which had wound itself into his hair. His palms were splayed out against your inner thighs, practically spreading you apart completely, mouth wrapped around your clit.
You could feel the scarred side of his face brush against the silky flesh of your inner thigh, the roughened texture and the tickling of his beard between your thighs. Brahms was sloppy and he was messy, but he was oh so eager, drinking in every single drop of arousal that spilled onto his tongue.
You were in disbelief, really — this wasn’t normal. Any sane person would have fled long before, leaving Brahms to rot within the walls, but you couldn’t. He needed you, and quite honestly, you were beginning to need him, too. A toxic mutualism indeed, especially with his vitriolic personality, but you were bound here, bound to him.
“You’re so perfect,” You moaned, showering string after string of praise upon him, feeling his licks turn sluggish, like the laps of a kitten as he devoured you. “Su—Such a good boy.” You weren’t used to being in this position, but Brahms was beyond receptive, sucking on your clit with a sonorous groan.
With quivering legs, you writhed and squirmed against his mouth, the back of your hand pressed to your lips, the other wrangled into Brahms’s hair. He was getting off on any ounce of praise being delivered, possessive as could be as he continued to suck and lick at your clit. It turned your stomach into mush, made you whine and moan at every prick of pleasure.
Brahms wasn’t stopping, either. Breathy, hoarse sounds emerged from him, groans intermingled with raspy whines that made you shiver. Each lap of his tongue sets your nerves ablaze, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing. Heat flooded between your thighs, your eyes nearly closed, teeth gnashing into the skin at the back of your hand.
“Close,” You sputtered, and that singular utterance drove Brahms right into your cunt, mouth sloppy and greedy as he lapped at your slick, desperate to please you, to be good for you. It didn’t take much to drive you right into an orgasm, the dam breaking as you came onto his tongue. “Brahms!” You moaned.
There was a devious, sinister delight that Brahms derived from this, knowing that Malcolm would never get the chance to do this to you. You weren’t going to leave — you were all his, you belonged to him. Brahms would make sure of it, if it wasn’t blatantly clear already.
Even in the aftermath of your release, Brahms was dutifully cleaning you up, on his best behavior, tongue swiping all around your cunt. The throaty noises that left him sounded similar to purring intermingled with grunts, not that you minded — it was attractive to you. Your fingers slacked, relinquishing your hold upon his hair.
Licking his lips, Brahms slunk back up, still glued to the gap between your legs, cock pressing into your inner thigh, twitching and aching with want. He could see you much better than you could see him, and you looked beautiful — disheveled, skin warm and feverish, coming down from your high with a doe-eyed stare.
“You taste good,” Brahms uttered, words that you never expected him to say, but it made you blush, a heat creeping across your skin. “Mine.” The last words were spoken with a languid darkness, a festering possessiveness that gripped you and wouldn’t let you go. You shivered, nodding several times over.
“I’m yours, Brahms.” You breathed, making sure he was properly reassured, feeling him hump and grind into your leg, panting all the while. “You can have your turn now, sin—since you’ve been so good.” You stammer, trying to compose yourself as he hastily shoved his trousers down.
He whimpers, rutting into the juncture between your legs, rolling himself into your soaked cunt. Brahms’s desperate, wistful sounds are enough to fill the air and all of the space in between, and you very nearly cry out when he shoves his cock into you. Brahms isn’t exactly gentle — he’s too aroused to care, quite frankly.
Your hands reach for his shoulders, feeling some of the burnt, scarred flesh underneath, but he doesn’t protest. Brahms groans instead, face buried right into your shoulder, awkwardly hunched as he began to thrust inside of you, quick and rough, hot breath fanning out across your skin.
There isn’t anything that can quell him or slow him down, so you let yourself sink into his motions, body rocked by every erratic thrust. Brahms lets out a string of guttural moans into your flesh, savoring the way your cunt clenched around his cock, your mewls and moans reverberating throughout your bedroom.
Thunder echoes and crackles outside, accompanied by the flash of white lightning across black skies. Rain pounds against the glass, but it all seems drowned out by Brahms, by him rutting into you so forcefully and so quickly that it threatens to give you whiplash. His teeth sink into your shoulder, causing you to yelp.
“Kiss me,” You whisper, the words forced between breathy sighs and moans of passion. Brahms seems to hesitate, forcing his face into your shoulder — he’s vulnerable and exposed this way, lacking the safety of the porcelain veil, but he wants to give in to you. He wants to give in so terribly. “Please, Brahms.” You’re breathless when his visage drags away from your shoulder.
It’s a bruising kiss, one that’s just as desperate and needy as you expected it to be, his beard scratching against your skin. He moans into your mouth, and you can taste yourself, sparking something deeply provocative inside of you. The kiss is enough to rattle you to your core, all while he’s still fucking you.
His cock is battering away at your cunt with an eagerness, swift and rough, his groin bumping and grinding with yours each time. The friction is white-hot and heavy between the two of you, causing your skin and his to crawl with a feverish warmth.
Brahms isn’t quiet — he’s loud, but that makes it better for you. Between each kiss, he’s careening inward, catching his breath before biting at your lower lip, an entanglement of tongue, teeth, and lips. His cock continues to pound away at your slit, throbbing and pulsating with heat as precum coats your insides.
You keep your legs apart for him, nightgown having ridden up toward your stomach, material collecting in a heap. His mouth wrestles with yours, winning over you all too easily, like a blistering storm as he kisses you voraciously. You groan, rolling your hips forward, grinding into him in a sultry manner.
There’s a hitch in his breath, but he keeps with his crazed, sporadic pace, fucking you as if it might be his last. Brahms’s edge of callousness is enticing to you, and he feels amazing — he’s well-endowed, cock rutting into you, borderline animalistic. His whimpers make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Prying his lips away from yours, Brahms is all too eager to suck at your neck, littering your sensitive flesh in a myriad of hickeys and bites, some more visible than others, if at all. He’s drowning in you, drowning himself within your presence, in every fiber of your being, fingers curling into the sheets.
“Brahms,” You moan, clutching onto him like a drowning woman as his cock slams into you another time or two, clashing with the spot that makes your stomach do flips. Your cunt is wet and tight around him, clenching when he brings you to yet another orgasm. You cry out, and so does he.
Clearly lacking any care for consequences, Brahms pounds himself into you again, until he can go no further. He moans, hips stuttering, breath ragged and akin to a furnace as he cums inside of you. He pulls out halfway through, the rest of his seed splattering your stomach and thighs instead, glistening with a sticky sheen.
Swallowing hard, you shift underneath Brahms, huffing and breathing heavily as you regain your composure, feeling him slouch on top of you after tugging his pants back up. It’s euphoric, the aftermath — you find yourself at a loss for words as you slither out of bed, finding a towel to clean yourself off with.
As soon as you’re back in bed, Brahms is all over you, wrapping his arms around your midsection as he presses his chest into your back. You don’t hear any reverberation of his husky breathing inside of the mask, which means he’s left it off — it surprises you, but you welcome it, nestling into the curve of his lanky form.
“I want to do that again.” Brahms’s voice is nearly a growl, ghosting near the shell of your ear. In the spirit of transparency, you want to do it again too — and so much more. You know you’re in deep, and Brahms is acutely aware of how hooked the both of you are.
“Tomorrow, Brahms. Promise.” You whisper, and that seems to satisfy him just enough, feeling his arms tighten like a vice around you. He grabs your chin, turning your head just enough for him to give you an invasive kiss.
“Promise.” Brahms utters, and just before you can fall asleep entirely, you can feel the protrusion of his cock pressing right into your rump.
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sunny-paradise · 2 days ago
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Slashers as (AI made) ✨inspirational quotes ✨
part two
Billy Lenz
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Billy Loomis
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Stu Macher
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Nubbins Sawyer
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Chop-Top Sawyer
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Drayton Sawyer
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Asa Emory
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Jesse Cromeans
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Hannibal Lecter
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polyghostfacehours · a day ago
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Horror movies is trending so I just wanna say if you like Ghostface and x Reader fics you could put your minecraft bed next to mine just sayin like I wouldn't complain or anything.
(,,,haha check out my Masterlist...jkjkjk! Unless...? 👀)
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soupbabe · 23 hours ago
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please make a drabble of the lost boys when they are in bat form and basically the reader gets babied by the boys (they put reader in their mouth or maybe follow them around watching them to see if they are okay in bat form) PLEASE IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES 🧎🏻‍♀️
Baby Bat (Lost Boys + Vampire! Reader)
The boys support Reader through a vampiric milestone
I love the idea of the boys turning into bats omg 😭😭 I feel like I've seen some art of them as bats before and it was so cute!!
I tried to balance interaction with each vamp, but it feels a bit more David focused! All platonic btw!
You looked over the train tracks below, the mist and fog only adding to the depth of the drop. "C'mon Y/n! What's the worse that can happen? Not like you can die or anything." Paul playfully nudged you towards the drop, earning a swipe from a bat Marko. While he wasn't wrong, you still held onto your fear from when you were human. You spent your life thinking that throwing yourself off of a bridge was a bad idea, freezing up was only natural. "Knock it off, Paul." Dwayne squeezed your shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, you're gonna do great. Besides, Paul nearly pissed himself when he did it."
David, sensing your hesitation flew back onto the bridge and returned back into his normal form. "C'mon, you're one of us now. Don't think we'll be leaving you behind, got it?" It was rare moment where his lips spread into a genuine smile. He cared deeply about his family and now you're apart of it. It's only right he shows what's left of his humanity to help you through such a milestone in your transformation. You nodded and looked back down to where Dwayne tapped your shoulder and gave you an encouraging nod before jumping off himself. Not even seconds later you heard a small 'poof!' and the squeaking of a black vampire bat. Paul and David joined Dwayne, giving their own solute to you before jumping.
A blonde bat with small curls perched itself on your shoulders and gave a loving headbutt and leaped off, now flying across from you. With a deep breath you looked down, closed your eyes, and hoped that your vampiric instincts kicked in.
It was difficult trying not to panic as you fell down, it all felt so fast when the next thing you heard was that small 'poof!' and something tugging you upwards
You opened your eyes to see three other bats looking back at you, Paul and Marko squeaking in victory at the success. You can only assume David is the one carrying you, although your wings are already in motion. Dwayne looked at David and reluctantly let you go, but only after he set you over the train tracks. It was second nature for you to keep your flight and you, caught up in your own success, reverted back to your human appearance and ended up falling on your ass.
All four bats swarmed you before you could even get up, all speaking and rubbing their heads against you. Paul was the first one to turn back to normal and helped you up, "You did it! Told you you wouldn't die!" He held his fist up to you and you smashed your fist with his, only for him to open his hand back up with explosion noises in the background. Marko was next in congratulations, giving you a quick side hug and a "Not too bad!" Then it was Dwayne's turn, who only gave you finger guns and a soft smile.
Lastly, there was David who showed a proud smile. "Told ya we wouldn't leave you hangin'. How's it feel to be one of us now?"
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insanitymoshpit · 2 days ago
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hello hun! how are you doing?
I hope you are doing well 💕
I was wondering, since you said I can send you asks too, if I could get the slashers (literally anyone you want, I don't really have a preference but at least 3 would be fine) with a s/o who has a habit of talking with themself so they decide to make a video diary to talk about stuff, let out frustrations or fears and film nice activities that they and the (insert slasher) are doing together so they can look back on the memories, for nostalgia purposes! Would they be okay if their lover filmed them? And if yes what would they say if their lover asked them cheesy questions like "Sir, how come you are so handsome? What is your secret?" while holding something as a microphone and pretending to interview them! 🥺💞
Haha sorry this is kinda cheesy 😊
Please don't forget to take care of yourself 🌸
Have a great day/night! 🧚🏽‍♂️ ✨
Hello! Thank you so much for the ask, and im doing great:)
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Michael Myers:
He honestly doesn't feel any way about it.
He would just stare at you when you filmed.
Would definitely do that little head tilt when you asked him that.
You won't know but he would let out a huff that suspiciously sounds like laughter under his mask.
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Bo Sinclair:
Will definitely look at you wierd when you just whip out a video camera.
When you ask him that he would just stare at you unimpressed.
Will eventually just go with it and roll his eyes.
But will secretly be hiding a smile the whole time.
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Bubba Saywer:
Will literally squeal when you bring out the camera.
Will even be in the videos with you!
Will definitely put on makeup to look prettier
When you ask him that, he nearly faints from how much he adores you.
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Billy and Stu:
Stu will definitely be the one to do it with you.
I mean cmon, with how they like movies? They will definitely like it.
Even get you a new camera if yours breaks.
Stu and billy will definitely be the ones most into this.
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sinfulwrites · a day ago
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1978-2018
Hello. I decided to hyperfixate on Michael and basically write a headcanons list, cause I just can't write enough for him. If you guys like this, I might do it for other slashers too, so let me know!
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Michael Myers, 1978.
Michael was a grown man now, finally legal drinking age though he didn’t have a single thought about alcohol on his mind. Neither smoking for that matter. He only had one thought on his mind, chasing his blood lust. Digging his thumbs into their larynx and crushing their trachea. Hearing their last desperate gasp for air before a final sigh as the life finally leaves their body. Watching their eyes lose the life once in them. The rush of adrenaline that pumps through his veins is an addiction. He was unstoppable, nothing they did to him would stop him. He would get his kill, no matter how much it hurt to get it. Losing sight in his left eye did nothing to put out the flame burning through his veins. Being shot six times was mind-numbingly painful, but he pushed on. Only once they were dead would he stop. Then he would return home, lick his wounds, then return to those unsuspecting sidewalks. Michael understood what he was. He knew what he was capable of and what every feeling he felt meant. Then one day, he didn’t want to kill. His hands wrapped around their neck, but he felt no desire to crush their throats just as he did all the others. He held them still despite them squirming like a fish out of water. He had watched them for days before the night of their supposed to be murder, but now that desired face of terror stirred his stomach in a way he didn’t like. He wished to see… More. Learn about all of them, everything there is to know about them; but death was the one exception. He physically forced his hands off them and let them flee, feeling no desire to chase them. New feelings have erupted in his chest, and he didn’t understand a single one of them.
Michael in 1978 is way more driven by instinct. Like a caged animal finally free once again. When he gets the thrill, he chases it like a wolf chasing a hare.
But when he meets his S/O, a whole new set of emotions grew in his chest and he has no idea what any of them are. It scared him, though he wouldn’t tell you that. It is easy to see, however, that he is on edge around you for the longest time. He never turned his back to you, he could always see you even if it was only from the corner of his eye. He never let you come up behind him. You were never in his personal bubble unless he gave you permission. He wasn’t afraid of you, he just didn’t fully understand your intentions yet.
Near the beginning of the relationship, touching him without permission was off the table. Michael finally got control over his life again, free from the will of the sanitarium. They controlled every second of his life, but now he could finally be free. He wanted control of every aspect of his life, even including when and where you could touch him. Later on, his hold on the reigns will begin to loosen, he begins to trust you the more he understands you; understand his feelings for you.
In the beginning of the relationship, he viewed you as his. He owned you, you belonged to him, just like his house. But later on he came to realize you were different. You weren’t like his home, or his mask, or anything he owned. Anything that could be replaced. You were unique, irreplaceable in his eyes. He could get another car, he could get another knife, but there was only one of you. He got less possessive and more protective of you, seeing you as more than an object he owns. Once he finally reaches this conclusion, he finally opens up to you. Finally trusts you.
He now puts in more effort to be intimate. Trying to hold hands, hug, cuddle with you, just like he watched so many other couples do. He’s very stiff and unsure every time, but each time he gains more confidence in these things. Soon he’s able to wrap his arms around you without a second thought, even laying his head on yours. It’s his favorite thing to do when you’re cooking or if you’re trying to fold laundry. No, he doesn’t care if it makes the task 10x harder.
Finds he isn’t much of a kisser. He is a lot more comfortable cuddling with you than kissing. Kissing is so foreign to him, he needs time to warm up to it. He will kiss you later down the line, quite passionately too once you teach him, but he’d much rather hold you close and nuzzle into your neck. He won’t say it, but he loves when you run your thumb over his knuckles when you hold hands. It never fails to soothe him.
Now that Michael cares about you, he’s fiercely protective of you. If he even thinks someone is looking at you wrong he is going to get rid of them. He continues to stalk you just as he did before he made himself known to you, but now it’s because of a sense of duty he feels for you. He doesn’t trust anyone in this town, and while he knows you can handle yourself, he also knows about the shadow of this town. This is quiet little Haddonfield, but that does not mean everyone has your best interests in mind. He’s seen what lurks in the dark corners of town, he doesn’t want that anywhere near you.
Since Michael can drive and has a car, consider him your free taxi service. Need to go somewhere? Let him take you; in fact, he wants to take you. Sometimes you two will go on little driving dates, going around town in his car around sunset so you two can watch the sky explode into shades of pink and purple before the moon rises. It’s one of his favorite ways to spend time with you.
Consider his house also yours, though he won’t take it personal if you don’t want to hang around there. An abandoned house is not the ideal place to live, especially not with all the dog corpses around. But, if you need a place to go, his house is always open to you. If you have a house and you live alone, consider him your new housemate. Rent-free too. He’s lucky you love him.
Overall, Michael is like a wild animal you need to tame, but once you do he opens up and tries to embrace that human hidden deep inside himself.
Michael Myers, 2018.
For all the atrocities Michael has committed, age has been surprisingly kind to him. Sure, his knees hurt sometimes, sometimes it feels like he’s walking on a broken foot, and he’s got an unrelenting itch on the left side of his face around his ruined eye. But there were perks. He stood much taller, his muscles may have gone many many years unused he knew his strength has only gotten better. He knew exactly what his bare hands were capable of, regardless of how many fingers he had left, he knew exactly how much he could take. When he returned to the outside world for the first time in forty years he hardly recognized anything. Every building was in the same spot but it looked different. Lots of places had fresh coats of paint, hiding its history underneath a fresh new color. He almost didn’t recognize his own house, but he knew he was home. Even little things like how people dressed were completely new to him. The sensation of killing, however, was like a fond memory. The one thing he could never forget. He was no longer blind to the thrill killing gave him. It was still very much there, but Michael was much more curious about what he could do rather than chase his blood lust. He wasn’t a young man anymore, he was only getting older every day. He wanted to explore everything before he ran out of time. The way his stomach dropped when he heard your cries genuinely stunned him for the first time in forty years. You escaped him that night, but you forever had him in your shadow since that night. He didn’t understand this feeling, and you were going to help him understand it.
With age comes maturity, as well as experience and wisdom. Michael aged from a frolicking deer to a graceful elk. Matured from his mistakes and over-excitement, Michael has learned his limits and his strengths. He knew what he was capable of and never felt the spike of fear that came with the unknown ever again. It’s why he knows to be wary of shotguns and rifles, but handguns pose no threat to him.
His newfound confidence means he’s not as scared of you as he would have been when he was younger. He doesn’t trust you immediately, but you aren’t as intimidating as you would have been in the past. What was there to be scared of? What could you do to him? He didn’t need to watch you like a hawk, he knew nothing you could have possibly thrown at him would put him down.
This also means he’s not as touch-sensitive anymore. Sure, he’s not going to be open to holding hands or hugging right away, but it’s not dangerous to pat his shoulder or nudge him to get his attention. Once he’s comfortable with you, you can get away with anything. Hug his arms, pat his cheeks (over the mask of course), pull him down to kiss his forehead (also over the mask). He still has a limit though, and especially with his bad knees, he won’t be letting you hang on him for too long. He will tell you to knock it off by either staring at you with a glare, grunting at you or just placing a hand on your chest and saying “don’t.” As long as you stop when he asks there won’t be issues.
He doesn’t wear his mask as much as he used to. He still likes to wear it, especially when he kills, but he’s also very prone to just taking it off and tossing it on the couch or bed for a while. If he is going to be in a relationship with you, you might as well be able to see him. He’s comfortable with you now, there’s nothing to hide anymore. That also goes for his voice. He’s still not going to be striking up a conversation with you all the time but he does enjoy having a little back and forth with you now and then. He mostly just responds with a word or two, but it’s enough.
He has turned into more of a homebody as he got older. He still enjoyed killing, but he finds himself wanting to stay home most nights. Staying inside and looking out the window, sitting with you while you watch TV, or taking care of any work or school you had. Just sitting in the room with you will make him content, you don’t need to be next to him. No matter the age, Michael will always love to watch you.
His age has affected him more than he wants to admit. He's not a spring chicken anymore, he can't chase people as much as he used to thanks to it. If you think that will stop him from following you around town all day though you are mistaken. Michael knows his reputation with this town, and if the town found out you were his, you wouldn't be treated much better than he has been. He doesn't trust this town for a second, he needs to watch over you. For both of your sakes.
He may have mellowed out, but he is still protective of you. Lord help anyone who dared leave even a scratch on you. If you run to him in fear, best believe whoever scared you would be beyond recognizable when he finishes with them. You're everything to him, and this is one of the ways he shows it to you.
While he still isn't a massive fan of kissing, he's come around on it. He still may reject kisses some days, but others he will pull you in and kiss you until you're breathless. It really just depends on how he feels that day. You can still kiss his cheeks, the edges of his lips, and his neck if you wanted to though. He won't deny you much.
Michael's house is a nice place now, and while there may be bloodstains everywhere it's yours too if you'd like to stay there. You are the first and only person who received an invention to the Myers house. If you have your own house he will come and stay with you sometimes, but he prefers the comfort of his own home. If you both go back and forth between houses he would be content.
Dates are plentiful but often happen in the comfort of his home. He's not exactly beloved by the community, and being seen with him in public would not be good for you. So, you two would have to keep it indoors. Still, he wouldn't be opposed to a late-night walk if his knees were up for it.
Overall, growing older has turned Michael into a man purely seeking companionship from a S/O. He's urged by his curiosity more than his bloodlust now, and you invoke new feelings from him that he wants to understand fully. He honestly doesn't even want you to know about that other side of him, but it would be impossible after your introduction. He wants to be Michael to you, not The Shape.
Bonus
Michael Myers, 2007.
Being equipped with the stature that allows him to mountain over anyone he crosses paths with and the strength to move mountains let Michael be a perfect killing machine. If he wanted to kill, he would kill with ease. He almost didn't have to try, rarely did he struggle. Aside from all these qualities of a perfect killer, Michael was still very much human. He often struggled with depression almost, if not every night. Feeling abandoned, betrayed, and cast out, he only wishes to bring death onto others rather than anything he may have called "care." He crept, killed, then went home until he was ready to kill again, all urged on by the rage deeply rooted in his heart. It was only when he felt that familiar twinge of guilt, the same kind he felt when his sister looked at him with fearful eyes, that he stopped himself from killing again. Instead of killing you, he simply watched you flee with a curious head tilt. That guilt soon turned into disgust in his gut, mostly for himself. He would chastise himself for getting attached again, swearing he would kill you the next time he saw you, yet he never left his hiding spot when he stalked you daily after that. Something about you drew him in, and after so long of running from these feelings, he might just be ready to give it one final try.
Michael knew you were different just by how you made him feel. That familiar sense of care flooded him anytime he saw you. He just wanted to protect you and keep you safe from the dangers of the world. Even if he was amongst said dangers.
While he does care about you deeply, he has some personal demons that make him wary of you for a while. He has a hard time trusting you, unable to forget the last time he trusted someone. He will never express this to you, but the more you prove him wrong, the more his walls begin to crack. They would all but crumble soon, it just requires patience.
Once he trusts you and is comfortable with you, prepare to be single-handedly the most protected person in Haddonfield. Someone looks at you the wrong way? Dead. Someone nudges you while walking by? Dead. Say you're having even a minor issue with someone? Dead. Michael trusts nobody but you, so anyone that dares disturb you better pray you don't tell him about it. You can convince him not to hurt people, but that doesn't mean they will be getting off free. They will be visited by the Boogie Man that night with a formal warning to deliver.
He is also very touch starved, something only discovered once he trusts you. Nothing would make him happier than to hold you all day and be held in return. He finds comfort in being embraced and loved, it reminds him of his mother. Hugging him, cuddling, stroking his back and hair, whispering praises and affections in his ear, he may be stoic but he is enjoying every second of it. He rarely denies you the pleasure of loving on him, since it's a mutual desire.
The most talkative of the Michael's, while he still won't be sparking conversations he answers you a lot more than the others. A lot of the time you may just get grunts in response, especially in the beginning, but he will eventually start talking. He doesn't mind breaking his vow of silence if it's you.
He may open up to you, telling you about his intrusive thoughts and insecurities. Telling you why he hides his face behind masks and prefers to stay hidden in the dark. This is a level of trust no one but his mother could ever achieve, so the conversation better not leave the walls of his house.
Speaking of his house, he does have one and you are welcome to it. It is an abandoned house though, so it's understandable if you don't wish to live there. He doesn't take it personal.
While he loves you and wouldn't dream of hurting you, Michael still has a problem with his anger. It's not uncommon for him to get snippy with you, having some attitude and even being downright mean at times. He doesn't mean it though, and he would never forgive himself if he hurt you in a fit of rage. He prefers to release his rage before he sees you again.
While he has a temper, he is still a big softie with you. He prefers to be gentle with you, you seem so delicate under his deadly touch. You're so small compared to him, and he doesn't want to risk hurting you. Unless you ask, he will want to be careful with you as much as possible. He may fail and just manhandle you at times, but it's a work in progress. He'll get there.
While still not the biggest fan of kissing, he likes it the most. He loves when you make him kneel down to get a kiss on his forehead, mask or no mask. He will gladly slide you into his lap and kiss you for hours if he's in the mood. He would never reject your kisses, but if he doesn't want them, he simply just won't get to your level so you can give them. More often than not though, he will kiss you.
Something he will enjoy doing is just watching you for a day. No conversation, no acknowledgment on either end. Just him following you and watching you. Sure, partially so he can make sure you're safe, but another part of him just enjoys watching you. He likes watching you live a normal life, something deep down he wouldn't mind having for himself but he knew he was too far from normality.
Dates are plentiful but again usually take place indoors. Michael isn't a very people-friendly person, he would rather spend time alone with you in his house than around other people. He may make an exception for a concert though, since he does enjoy music.
Overall, once you can gain his trust you've basically got a serial killer on standby just waiting for someone to fuck up and give him a reason to protect you. He's fiercely loyal and protective, but he spares you the ugly side and shows you the nice side of it. He may be the softest and most human, but don't forget this is still Michael Myers.
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mrs-sakamata · a day ago
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Hello! If you’d be willing can I request a Michael Myers (RZ or OG) x reader fic where Michael “hunts” the reader (just for fun because he would never hurt you) and then when he finally catches you and you’re like kinda scared he just pulls you into a hug. Just fluff please! Thank you so much❤️
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I got you <3
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Michael Myers x GN!Reader
Summary: Request up top
Warning: Knife, Cutting, Hugs!, Running for you life, Fluff
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Walking home at night was never really fun, as there was always a murderer out running the streets, but you smiled every time you had to remind yourself that your boyfriend was the so-called murderers. You adjusted your grip on your bags that weighed a ton. You brought a buttload of sweets back for Michael. You swear he loved you more and more each day as you brought back leftover sweets from the bakery where you worked.
You found your grip and walked a little faster as you weren't too far from your place that you shared with Michael. You looked back as you started to hear footsteps behind you. You saw Michael covered in blood. It felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your head. It wasn't unusual, but he felt off today. His knife was out and pointed at you. That never happened.
"Michael, are you oka- You couldn't finish as he started to run at you, You got scared and started running to the house. You held on to your stuff as you ran. Your whine escaped your throat. He had never looked like that. You wanted to cry, but you held it back, not wanting to get killed cause your vision failed you. You had no idea if he was going to. Thoughts raced through your mind as your feet carried you as fast as you could.
You were only a few houses away from yours. You could see the light you left on this morning before you left for work. You could hear him getting closer. You looked behind you. He was right next to you. His knife cuts your skin, leaving a little cut. You cried out as you dropped your stuff at the front door and ran to the back door.
His body moved to push the door open to your house before you could close it. You cried out pleas for your life to the one who you thought loved you. You look up at him with your vision blurred, tears running down your cheeks.
You saw him drop his knife next to you. He reached out to you cautiously, not wanting to scare you more. "I'm sorry." He spoke out as well as he could. You followed his eyes to your little cut on your arm. "It's fine," you reassured him. You felt him hug your body. You heard him take off his mask. He hugged you tighter after he kissed your cheek. He got out his last words. "I didn't mean to."
You slowly took him into your embrace. Your cries have calmed down. You snuggled your head into his neck, taking in the scent that was behind all the coppery smell from the blood. "Don't do that again, please," you whisper, feeling his head nod you smile.
"I love you" He says with a small "sorry" after, "I wanted to surprise you" he says in a low voice as he pulled out a picture that looked like it was ripped out of a magazine. You saw a couple smiling, the man hugging their love from behind. Your heart broke as all he wanted to do was hug you from behind. You looked up at him with a sad look and took him into your arms. "I love you, Mikey," you said, before kissing his cheek.
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Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
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lebenspurpur · a day ago
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slashers reacting to their s/o having a split tongue?
Warnings: descriptions of body modifications, hinted sexual content
Wordcount: 874 words
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Michael Myers
Michael doesn't really understand the reason behind tattoos, piercings, or other body mods. He realizes that it's for beauty purposes but still, why would you hurt your body to be pretty?
He really likes your tongue though. It reminds him of a snake and Michael adores snakes. They're silent, good hunters and they're entrancing when they move.
However, Michael is also a very curious person. Prepare for him to just grab your tongue to examine it, while completely ignoring your surprised attempts of stopping him.
Other than the surprise when he first sees it, Michael doesn't really care about your little secret. You're you, with or without a split tongue. That's all that matters.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent is a giant fan of body modifications, even if he doesn't have any. The idea of actually leaving town is just too terrifying and doing it himself is too much of a risk. Though he was close to just grabbing his dad's old medical books and just getting through with it.
You can see his eyes widen when you show them to him for the first time. immediately after he gulps and you can see his Adam's apple bobbing and his fingers twitching. He wants to touch it so badly but he knows how weird that'd be.
If you allow him he'll slowly open your mouth a bit more and gently press his fingers on the plush muscle, examining the way the two separate pieces work with each other. He's pretty entranced.
Expect a lot of tongue drawing for the next week.
Bo Sinclair
Bo is... very surprised. He's seen multiple body mods over the years but nothing comes close to your tongue.
The first thought that he thinks of is about you going down on him so... I mean he's Bo, what'd you expect.
He isn't as interested as Vincent or Michael, he just likes to look at it even though it freaks him out a little bit.
God, his mother would've hated it. That makes him like your tongue even more.
Lester Sinclair
This poor sweet man literally thinks you got your tongue split in an accident.
"What do you mean, you wanted this?"
He is a bit... conventional about body modifications. Generally, his parents taught him that only bad people change their bodies like that and that mindset has stuck with him.
Lester definitely needs you to educate him on the subject.
I mean, he doesn't hate it... but he doesn't like it either.
Baby Firefly
"Oh my god y/n! It's so pretty!"
Baby loves body mods of every kind. They don't fit her style but whenever she sees someone with a piercing or a tattoo or something else, she'll definitely ask about it.
(Also, I am 100% sure that Baby has nipple piercings.)
She will beg you to take selfies with her with your tongue stretched out. You look so badass and cool in her opinion, she's just proud to have someone like you as her partner.
Otis Driftwood
Otis is pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. Your tongue is cool and all but he doesn't make a big deal out of it.
Though he is surprised when he first sees it. Otis has seen split tongues before but he didn't think you are the type of person to go and get one.
Brahms Heelshire
"What is that."
Brahms' reactions is pretty hilarious.
His mom taught him so, so many bad things about piercings and tattoos. And you've gone even farther and split your tongue in half!
He is very confused now. Mama said only bad people would do this to themselves but you're not a bad person. He knows that. So why do you have one?
It takes him a while to accept it. The thrilling idea of disturbing his mom's morals like that definitely helps with his approval.
After the first, confused thoughts fade, you guessed it, the sexual ones follow. Brahms stays Brahms. He can not contain himself.
Thomas Hewitt
Oh lord, you're gonna go to hell.
Thomas is very superstitious about your tongue. He's been taught about body mods, and not in a good way so he doesn't really trust the fact that you have one.
Obviously, your tongue would never be a reason for Thomas to distance himself. You're way too important to him for that. He loves you, and a split tongue can't change that.
But he doesn't like it, at least in the beginning. Give him some time. He'll get used to it.
Josef
"Wow."
He's really... astonished? But in a good way.
Josef will also want to touch it. It looks so interesting, so weird, he can't help himself.
He really likes it. Josef likes everything that's slightly out of order and your tongue is one of those things.
He kind of wants to brag about it, but he doesn't have any friends to talk to.
So he tells victims.
Asa Emory
He's really not impressed and it really doesn't matter to him.
Once again, Asa sees you more as a pet, a thing, rather than the person you really are.
So body mods really don't matter to him unless they stop him from doing something he wants. Which your tongue doesn't.
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whimsyvixen · a day ago
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Don’t know if you write Michael talking but og kinda inexperienced Michael cums in reader and he whispers raspy quiet sweet things in your ear “oh baby” “feels- so good”
Hmmm...
Silent Michael Myers (asides from his grunts and harsh breathing) is more appealing to me than if he speaks. I don't think there's ever been a moment where he utters any words, so it would be kinda startling if he started talking all of the sudden. 😂
However, I'm a major slut for deep voices so if I could imagine him with one, it would be one of those dark and gravely ones. He would also be a man of few words and not be sweet at all about it.
Just a tinsy little drabble for this, honey.
Change 18+ Drabble
WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, possessive, unprotected sex, Michael speaks (a little)
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"Tight." Michael practically growled out the word, hands digging into the fat of your hips as he forced you to take every inch of him.
Your ass was pressed firmly against his pelvis, a gasp of pain leaving you at the bruising hold he had on you. Clutching the edge of the table you were bent over on, you pulled your body forward, hoping to escape from Michael's grip.
Noticing this, Michael pulled you flush against him, a scream leaving you when he threatened to penetrate through your cervix with that one thrust. Cries left you when he wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed a breast with another.
"Mine." Michael muttered into your hair, his chest pressing on your back to keep you immobile beneath him. Your squirming only made him harder, your channel clenching involuntarily around him and making his cock throb angrily.
"Please, let me go." You tearfully hiccuped. You didn't know how much longer you could take this. Michael was not a kind man, the red marks and bruises scattered across your body proving it. Even as you pleaded with him, he was never once gentle with you. Your body trembled pathetically when he bit the nape of your neck.
"No." With that, Michael grabbed both of your pillowy breasts and jerked you back on his broad frame.
Breathless moans left you with every one of his jarring thrusts, your body rocking in tandem with his motions. Before long, you could feel the pressure build on your stomach, thighs starting to quiver as your orgasm neared.
With every wet smack of your hips clashing, Michael could feel himself ready to come inside you again. It had been startling to him when he first came, the feeling euphoric and alien to him. However, after numerous sessions with you, it was something he strived for as he worked your body. The way your pliant body rippled enticingly with his brutal assault had him addicted. "So soft."
Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he pummeled away at your wet pussy. You could do nothing but take it. Your arms were caged on either side of you, unable to jerk free from his hold. He adjusted his stance so that your legs were around his, spreading you wide to take him all the way inside you. His mind set on filling you up once more, your screams driving him to completion as he jerked sloppily inside you.
"This. Is. Mine." He hissed in your ear, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. You only mewled in response, mind clouded with pleasure as slick and cum ran down your thighs.
Michael brought a hand to your lower belly, a pleased grunt leaving him when he felt the swell of him inside you. "You're mine."
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slasherhaven · a day ago
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omg can we please have a part two of otis x reader when reader steals his heart i loved it so much
Part 1 HERE
Lucky for you Part 1 got a lot of positive feedback and I enjoyed writing it so I've already got a part 2 ready for you! I'm back on my Otis Bullshit, Besties.
Warnings: Darker than the last part (it’s Otis, it was bound to get darker sooner rather than later) the aftermath of the night before, Reader murders someone (implied that they didn't hate it)
A Meant-to-be Victim Stealing the Heart of Otis Driftwood Part 2:
Your heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open, the morning sun shining through the thin curtains that covered the window. Thankfully, you remembered the events of the previous day and where you were, so the dusty little room didn't scare you when you woke up in a daze.
With a small groan, you sat up, stretching your arms and hearing to the popping sound of your back. Opening your eyes again, your body jolted in shock from seeing the figure in the doorway.
"Baby!" you gasped, startled by the grinning woman. "You scared me" you told her, chuckling nervously.
"Sorry, Doll. Thought you'd be awake. Surprised we didn't wake ya up last night, we were makin' a lot of noise" Baby confessed with a small laugh, clearly amused by your surprise
"Really? Well, it didn't wake me up at all. I was so tired I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow and slept like a rock" you told her honestly, you had assumed everyone had gone to bed around the same time as you.
"Y'really would fit in here" Baby chuckled. "Anyway, Mama sent me to ask ya to breakfast" she told you, getting back to her reason for scaring you awake.
"Oh, thanks, yeah, I'll be right down" you smiled.
"How d'ya like ya eggs?" Baby asked, making you chuckle as you remembered the same question coming from Otis the night before.
"I'm sure however you're doing them will be fine" you assured her.
"You got it" she winked before leaving the room.
Climbing out of bed, you got fully dressed and made yourself as presentable as possible before heading downstairs. You didn't want to take too long in case they were waiting for you to eat.
When you wandered through into the dining room, you saw Mama setting the table. "You need any help?" you offered kindly, getting her attention.
"Ain't you sweet" Mama smiled brightly, "sure, c'mon."
With a smile, you helped the older woman set the table and helped her bring out the food. As you laid the last plate of food out, you saw that Baby was already sitting at the table, in the same place as the night before.
Mama took a seat at the other end of the table so you sat in the seat you occupied the night before. Before anyone could speak, Otis walked in looking like he had just woken up. He sat down heavily on the chair beside you.
"Dig in" Mama smiled, gesturing to the food.
"Uh...aren't Amber and Brandon going to eat as well?" you asked, not wanting to seem rude, just curious.
"Oh, they ain't invited" Baby informed you as if it was nothing. "They were rude" she didn't seem to care about how it sounded. It was stated as fact and, well, she wasn't completely wrong.
"But you are welcome anytime" Mama assured, sounding sincere.
"Well, thank you. And, once again, I'm sorry about them..." you genuinely appreciated the kindness this eccentric family was showing you. It gave you a warm, almost longing, feeling.
"You need t'stop apologisin' for other people" Otis muttered before putting a forkful of food into his mouth.
"Otis is right, it ain't your fault" Mama gave you a reassuring smile that you happily returned.
The four of you dug into your breakfasts, enjoying it in silence until a man you didn't recognise walked in and sat opposite Otis at the table.
"Ah, Y/n, this is Rufus but we call 'im RJ. RJ, this is Y/n...one of our guests" Mama introduced you both to each other. Rufus just nodded at you, focusing more on dishing out a plate of food for himself.
"Hi. I just want to thank you for taking the time to look at our car. I really appreciate it and I'm sure the others do too" you thanked him, finally able to meet the man who was supposedly slaving away over your car.
"Got the parts y'need. Gonna fix it up real quick after breakfast" Rufus promised you with another small nod.
"No rush, just don't want to intrude too long and outstay our welcome" you didn't want to pressure him into rushing or anything but you also didn't want to be lingering around if the family just wanted you all gone.
"Your so-called-friends outstayed their welcome a long time ago" Otis muttered, stabbing at his food some more
"I'm really sorry" you frowned.
"Stop apologisin' for 'em" Otis huffed. You just nodded.
The rest of breakfast when smoothly, the five of you finishing around the same time. As soon as Rufus' plate was cleared, he left to go fix up the car, and Mama started to clear the table.
You were about to offer your help to Mama, wanting to be a useful guest, but Otis spoke first.
"C'mon, wanna show you one more thing before y'head off" Otis spoke as he stood, not asking but telling you to follow him.
You didn't mind, you just agreed, "alright, sure," and followed him out of the room.
You nodded and smiled politely at Mama and Baby as you slipped out of the room, following Otis up the stairs. You weren't surprised when he led you to his bedroom again, you assumed he wanted to show you another art piece or something.
"What? You want me to model for you real quick?" you asked playfully, wiggling your eyebrows as he shut the door.
"Nah. I can think of a few positions to put ya in, but...none of these" Otis walked over to the wall of sketches, scanning the works, a slight smirk on his face. "Wanna know a secret?" he asked after a short pause.
"Sure" you nodded, moving to stand by his side, joining him in admiring the art.
You didn't flinch away when Otis lent down to your ear. "They're real" he whispered lowly, a dark edge to his voice.
You took a moment to process his words, taking in exactly what that meant. "...what do you mean?" you asked quietly, seeing the gory and morbid images in a sudden new light.
"The drawings...they're real. I didn't take no creative liberties with them, didn't need too" Otis informed you, smirking at the tension forming in the muscles.
"You're joking right?" you looked to him, laughing nervously. Surely he was just trying to scare you, still messing with you.
"Nah" he hummed, leaning over to pick up one of the handmade bone trinkets. "What ya think this is made out of?" he asked, bringing it closer to your face.
"You said it was bone" you recalled.
"What bone?"
"I dunno...guessed some animal..." you were very much beginning to doubt your assumptions.
"This one...it's made from 'er" Otis informed you, pointing to one of the sketches. A woman with lifeless eyes.
Tearing your gaze away with the image, you looked to him with wide eyes. "You're not joking...are you?" you were beginning to accept that the family you stumbled upon was much more sinister than you had originally thought.
"No" Otis shook his head, tossing the bone trinket back down onto the desk.
You were frozen on the spot, your brain working overtime to process the situation you had found yourself in. "...where are Amber and Brandon?" you asked, certain that there was a more sinister reason as to why they didn't join you for breakfast.
"Mama didn't like 'em. None of us did, you shouldn't either" he didn't directly answer your question but it told you their fate.
"What did you do?" you asked, now stepping away from him, your body beginning to react to the danger. Though not at appropriately as it should be.
"Dealt with Brandon myself, didn't like the way he spoke. Baby wanted the girl though" Otis told you with a small shrug, far too casual.
"...they're...they're dead?" you asked, wanting a straight answer.
"Brandon is. Dunno about your friend...you shouldn't care though" he admitted.
"Why the hell shouldn't I care?" you asked, a little bite to the question that just made Otis smirk.
"Because they both offered ya up, Sweetheart" he told you.
"...what?" your bite had disappeared, replaced with disbelief and hurt.
"I expected it from Brandon, he was a pussy. Didn't expect it from the girl though, thought she was all worried about ya but she offered to just leave ya behind if we let ya live" Otis continued.
"Your lying..." he was trying to get in your head, manipulate you. Amber wouldn't betray you like that...would she?
"I'm not, just ask Baby, she was there" Otis shrugged.
"She'd lie too" you scoffed, shaking your head at him.
"Alright...hold on" Otis nodded, knowing you weren't going to believe them unless you saw it for yourself. He headed for the door, pulling it open before calling for Baby.
Before you knew it, Baby was hurrying up to the room, complaining under breath. "That bitch still alive?" he asked his sister.
"Sure is. I ain't done with 'er yet" Baby nodded, a smile on her face.
Pleased by this, Otis turned back to you. "Y'want proof?" he asked. You just nodded, not knowing what else to do. How were you supposed to respond to that?
Grabbing your upper arm, Otis marched you towards Baby's bedroom, Baby following right behind.
"Make sure they don't go nowhere" Otis ordered. Baby nodded, grabbing your arm once Otis released you.
Otis opened the bedroom door, leaving it open as he walked inside, giving you a good view of the room. Baby's room was a lot different to his, just as messy but with much brighter colours, cluttered with costumes and a littered dressing table.
"Just watch this" Baby grinned, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both watched on.
The main thing in Baby's room that caught your attention was the chair in the centre of the room, Amber alive and bound to it with thick restraints. She was wearing a costume-like dress, her hair was pinned up in a way you had never seen her wear it before and pale makeup was covering her face, her lips painted bright red. For some reason, Baby had dressed her up.
"Please, please, please" Amber begged repeatedly as Otis walked around to stand in front of her, getting her attention.
"Stop fuckin' beggin' like some whore, I ain't interested in ya" Otis snapped, quickly shutting her up.
"But you...you like Y/n tho-though, right?" Amber stumbled over her words, it was like you could hear her brain running a mile a minute.
"Sure, they're real nice" he chuckled, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the cluttered dressing table.
"Just let me go, I swear to God I won't tell anyone about this place. You-you can keep them here if you want, nobody will go looking for them. Please just let me go" Amber tried to bargain, tears streaming down her face, ruining Baby's makeup.
In an instant, you were furious. Absolutely disgusted with the woman who was supposed to be your friend, you would have never given her up like that. Sure, you might have given Brandon up, but not her.
"Don't look so sad, Dollface" Baby whispered to you with a pout.
"Really offerin' up y'friend like that?" Otis asked with a tut, as if he were disappointed.
"Y-you want them right?" Amber asked, straightening up slight, feeling as if she might be getting somewhere
"Hmm...how about this...I'll let them decide what to do with ya" he smirked, approaching her and forcing the chair to turn to face the doorway where you and Baby stood.
"Oooo...let the show begin" Baby giggled, patting your arms before releasing you completely.
"Y/n...I-I didn't mean it!" Amber denied, her eyes wide from getting caught.
"Sure sounded like you did" you scoffed, unable to believe what you just witnessed.
"I think she did" Baby provoked, stepping away from you a little more, wanting to know what you would do. Would you try to run when you could or would you stay?
"I didn't! Of course I would come back for you!" Amber promised, tears still streaming.
"...I don't know if you would. Hell, you'd probably think I was dead before you reached help" you shook your head. Surely, she thought they'd kill you nearly instantly.
"I would've tried" Amber insisted.
"...you're lying...you've never been a good liar" you didn't sound angry anymore, a strange calmness had settled in your voice, only making Baby smile more and Otis more curious.
"Y/n..." she had been lying and she knew it, she had been focused on her own survival, no matter the cost.
"I should kill you myself" the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could even think about it.
"Now that would be fun!" Baby grinned, bouncing on her feet with excitement.
"Please don't let them do this" Amber pleaded with you, begging you to try something to save her life.
"They ain't lettin' us do anythin'. You heard 'em...they're gonna do it" Otis corrected her, making your head snap towards him.
"What?" you asked, you must have heard him wrong. He wasn't actually going to make you kill Amber, was he?
"Come give me some inspiration for my next art piece" Otis encouraged you with a dark look on his face, holding his hand out to you.
"Go on, you can do it" Baby pushed you into the room, sounding supportive despite the sinister thing they wanted you to do. Strangely enough, she really did sound like a supportive friend or sister encouraging you when you were nervous about something.
"I'll even help ya" Otis offered, grabbing a knife off of Baby's dressing table.
"Otis..." your voice was quiet but your feet carried you over to him anyway.
"Think of it as an initiation" Otis hummed, placing you to stand in front of Amber.
"Initiation?" you asked, looking back over your shoulder at him.
"To the family!" Baby shouted, skipping into the room. "We like ya Sweetcheeks, want to keep ya around" she informed you, getting a good spot to watch the show.
"C'mon, she's willin' to offer up your life for her own. It's only fair you do the same" Otis reminded you, standing so close that you could feel his chest against your back. Your mind was swimming, you were confused but you were angry.
"We'll do it together" he murmured against your ear as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing the knife into your shaky hands. His hands rested over yours, steadying them, as he brought the point of the blade to Amber's chest, right over her heart.
"Please" Amber's rambling pleas continued but went mostly ignored by the three of you.
"I'll help you with the force but you gotta be the one to do it" Otis spoke lowly and you could feel his lips moving against your ear.
A tense stillness fell over the room, Baby watching on while Amber continued to plead. Despite the stillness, you felt something shift, whether it was in you or around you, you couldn't tell.
Then, you weren't sure what came over you but you did it. You pushed the knife forward, Otis joining the motion to make sure there was enough force behind to reach her heart.
A scream and then...silence. You just stood there, grip around the bloodied handle as you watched the life leave Amber's eyes.
In shock of your own actions, you released the knife and stumbled backwards against Otis' chest. The adrenaline rush was unlike anything you had ever felt, you hadn't even noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks.
"Did so well" Otis muttered his praise, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. Your hands were shaking, your skin was buzzing, the spot his lips touched felt like it was on fire.
"Welcome to the family!" Baby giggled, moving closer to examine Amber's face. "Damn, I did such a good fucking job" she praised herself, turning the lifeless face from side to side.
Neither of the siblings seemed even slightly bothered by what was happening, clearly this was a normal occurrence for them, which reminded you of the situation you found yourself in.
"...she your new model?" you asked Otis quietly, staring at what used to be your friend. He had asked you to give him inspiration, you assumed this was it.
"Fuck no" Otis scoffed as if the idea was ridiculous. "You are" he told you.
"But you said-" you swiftly turned around to face him, worry written all over your face.
"Don't you worry, Sweetheart. Ain't gonna hurt ya, gonna immortalise that crazed look in your eyes" Otis informed you, pinching your chin with a smirk.
"I don't-" what crazed look? You were hurt, you were angry, you don't know how you managed to do what you did but...surely, he was seeing something that wasn't there.
"Yeah, y'do. Don't worry, you'll come around" Otis assured you, like he knew something you didn't "C'mon" he placed his hand on your shoulder and guided you out of the room.
"Have fun you two!" Baby called, waving as you left. "Knew they were perfect for 'im" she bent down to Amber's body, as if sharing a secret with her.
Next thing you knew, you were sitting in Otis' room, cross-legged on his bed while he sat hunched over his desk. You just watched him as he began a rough sketch of whatever had inspired him only moments ago on his desk. You had no idea how you were feeling or even how you should feel.
No, you should be running, screaming, crying. Terrified. Yet, you weren't. You sat in silence, finding some piece in watching the demented man work and listening to the scratch of his pencil.
"Where you all planning this from the beginning?" you finally broke the silence, speaking before you could think. Like you were on autopilot.
"It's how ya ran into Baby" Otis told you with a shrug, the motions of his pencil not halting.
"Am I really just that naïve? They knew something was wrong and I just felt...I dunno..." your words drifted off...how had you felt around this family before finding out the truth?
Your words seemed to make Otis ponder the same thing, because he stopped what he was doing and turned to you. "How did ya feel?" he asked.
You took a moment to think of the right words, none of them what they should be but honest, "...comfortable...safe...I dunno, I was having a good time. Guess, I'm just stupid."
Otis stood from his chair, walking over to you. "I don't think you're stupid or naïve" he knelt down in front of you, not necessarily to be comforting but to be more at eye level. "I think ya found ya home" he told you.
You just looked at him, examining his face. He was hard to read but something told you that he was being sincere, this could be your home if you accepted it.
"Ya said you don't have family, they said you had no one lookin' for ya" Otis recalled, "maybe ya just found ya family." It sounded good, fucked up as it may be. Could you finally have people that understood you, a family that accepted you? It was everything you could want.
"Why didn't you kill me?" you asked quietly. Last night they took your friend but left you, then invited you to breakfast.
"Don't go askin' complicated questions" Otis huffed, rolling his eyes slightly.
"...is it the same reason I ain't running?" you asked even quieter than before, making him pause. Now it was his turn to examine your face, to figure out exactly what you meant.
"Guess we'll find out" Otis smirked a little. Mama was right, you were coming around, quicker than even she expected.
A slight smile graced your lips as you reached out, brushing your thumb against Otis' cheek. The slightly damp blood on your hand smearing across his cheekbone.
"I'm not as scared as I should be" you confessed.
"I told ya, we ain't gonna hurt ya, maybe ya just know that" Otis shrugged.
"Is it weird that I'm suddenly really tired again?" you asked. You hadn't woken up that long ago but you supposed a lot had happened in those couple of hours.
"Nah, all that adrenaline has left ya system. Ya on the down from your high" Otis explained.
"That happen to you?" you wondered out loud, he didn't seem tired.
"Not anymore. Depends on what I took though" Otis confessed with a hint of humour. Despite the shock your body was still experiencing, you couldn't help but chuckle a little, only for it to be interrupted by a yawn.
"Get some rest, take a goddamn nap. Mama will want to see ya later, she was sure you'd come around...guess she was right" Otis told you as he stood, returning to his desk, his leaving feeling a little abrupt to you.
"'night, Otis" you murmured as you shifted, laying on top of the sheets of his bed. As your eyelids grew heavy and began to close, you heard a faint "'night" just before you drifted off to sleep again.
-
Part 3 anyone?
132 notes · View notes
hunbun03 · 14 hours ago
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👉👈 hey so I saw the one with the ghost boys and the squirting and I gotta say. Brilliant work.
If you do write for house if wax... Could I get an s/o that flusters easily and squirts easily with Bo? If not, I'll take the same with ol Mikey?
𝙰𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝!!! 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚖  such 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚘𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛  a lil 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝙸 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚊 a lil of 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑? I think 𝚢𝚘𝚞'll 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 <𝟹 
 𝚙𝚕𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 <𝟹 <3 
 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 b𝚘: roughly like 3k words                                                    𝚊𝚢𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚘, 𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚗 :)
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beep beep warning beep beep: smut smut n more smut, forced orgasms, degradation, humiliation, roughness, dumbification a lil, teasing, knife!!, being held down, being spat on, size kink, cunnilingus, creampies, fingering, unprotected sex, threats, marking, grinding, public-ish place?? ,over-stimulation, intense eye contact while fucking,  Afab reader, more feminine pet names, Bo being a cocky bitch, ya know it is!
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𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 <𝟹:
Bo Sinclair:
Congrats, you only fueled his ego more!
He loves it when you get all red in the face especially in front of the male tourists.
You playfully slap his thigh, thinking that'll make him cool off a bit lol it won't but nice try.
He'll make sure to whisper something absolutely filthy in your ear when you're talking to one, only to see you stammer and chew on words in front of them, your lil head full of dirty lil thoughts.
It gives him such a damn rush to see how easily he could make you like this.
As for squirting, oh boy you're in for a long looooooong night!
First time you did it- he was hooked
It filled him with such a desire/drive to see you do it again
and again
and again
Soon enough, your both soaked, you're seeing stars and bo is chuckling.
but he isn't done for the night-
Honestly, he might even bring it up as a bragging point only to fluster you more, rip
good luck hon. you're gonna need it.
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𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙾𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙼𝚢 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 <3:
You found yourself in the kitchen with your cheeks all red, maybe it was from the Louisiana summer or was it from Bo? All those little things he said in front the visitors, pressed up against you. His growing erection right against your ass, the even littler things he whispered in your ear, his breath was just as hot as your cheeks are now. It stuck with ya, running around in your head but showed itself on your face.
Soon you buried your face in your hands, resting up against the counter with your foot tapping on the tile. You breathed out a soft. “fuck,” cursing your brain for dwelling on each and every word. 
heavens forbid Bo walks in on ya. 
“Darlin’  I’m home!” Speak of the devil, Bo’s voice echoed through the house, followed by the sound of the screen-door. The muscles in your face twitched and scrunched up a bit in response, curse these thin fucking walls.
Bo’s brows furrowed when he didn’t get a response from you. “Baby-doll, Ya good?” 
You picked your face up from your hands, gathering all of the nerves you had left just to shout back, “Welcome back babe! I’m all good! “ Your voice was shaky which made a deep pit form in his stomach, twisting and knotting itself up. Soon, you heard his heavy footsteps on their way to the kitchen, making the floorboards creak and groan. 
He was at the doorway in record time, gripping tightly onto the frame, his knuckles white. The worry he once had melted away immediately, seeing the blushing mess that you were now, no wonder you were shaky. A small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. He let his body relax a bit while one of his hands loosened his belt. The jangle of the metal make your pussy twitch. He chuckled. 
He read you like a book just based on your actions but he played dumb, “Darlin’ dont tell me that ya uh.. still hung up on what I said, right?” His voice was teasing, he laid his accent on thick. he knew how your body, well mostly your pussy reacted to it.
he made his way over to you, the smirk stretched itself wider on his lips. 
fuck, he knew, Of course he knew. Your breath hitched itself up into your throat, your hands going to cover the now worsening blush but Bo grabbed each of them, pinning them down at your sides. “Don’t hide that pretty little face from me, baby” He seemingly purred, placing his knee in-between your thighs. 
you were pinned there, you and him knew that you weren’t gonna fight back. so you stayed, sitting pretty.
Bo watched the blush on your face spread all the way up to the tips of your ears and how you averted your eyes every time he tried to make eye contact with you. He let go of your right hand but leaned more into you instead, his body weight kept you pinned, not like you were gonna move anyways. The kitchen counter making an indent into the skin of your back as it pressed against it, hard.
He reached, grabbing your face with his hand, forcing you to look at him finally. He had the biggest grin and a fire lit in his eyes. He looked like a man, possessed. It terrified you to no end but it also lit the same fire, it showing on your cheeks once more. 
“Now Now.. dont make a hardworking man beg sugar~” His voice was like butter but it made only you melt, right in front of his eyes too. “Did my little teasing effect you this bad baby~ I bet you’re reeeal wet right now, huh?”
a needy look flashed on your face before the slight embarrassment hooked its teeth in. Your eyes went to look anywhere but your darling Bo, the peeling wallpaper, the fridge, the open door...Oh fuck, his brothers could walk in. “I-I” You were about to mention it but His knee pushed against your clothed pussy and your brain rattled, shaking every single thought out of it besides him, god, you wanted him so bad you could taste it in-between your teeth.
“Tell me little punk.i wont ask ya again” 
His tone plus the knee pressed on your clit, you and him both knew it was a threat along the lines of ‘You better answer or you’re in for a long night.’
You couldnt speak or even think for that matter and his deep rumbling chuckles didn’t help you in the slightest, it only added logs to the fire that you felt on your cheeks. a broken up breath in was all you needed to think clearly as your eyes found their way back to Bo’s intense gaze, his eyes burning with a deep desire.
“y...ye...yes. I’m all flustered.” You stuttered the words out, each one oafishly falling off of your tongue. your answer was met with Bo grinding his knee slowly into your cunt.
slow. it was so fucking slow. 
“Who got you all flustered, sweet thang? was it those tourists?” Bo asked. He let your face go but the grip marks from his hand stayed. your unpinned hand held onto his thigh, squeezing it terribly hard. 
He knew he made you like this. He knew how much your pussy craves him but he wanted to hear you admit to it right here in the kitchen.
A surprised sharp moan left your mouth, it sounded more of a squeak than a moan, “You! You! Darlin’ only you!”  you answered quickly in hopes he would speed up. 
he was amused, now speeding up his knee, it pressed itself into your clit which made a familiar knot in your stomach tightened. Bo smirked, seeing your reaction, A long whine ripped itself out from your lungs when he slowed down once more but thankfully he started them up again this time, pressing harder into your throbbing clit.
God, it felt like heaven. 
“Good girl~”
With his praises maybe it was heaven. 
This went on for about 2 minutes, with Bo bent down, his body surrounding you, drowning you but honestly you did not care. His soft praises were like a nice tall glass of beer, intoxicating, you just sat there pressed into the kitchen counter, enjoying grinding yourself back onto his knee. His praises rang throughout your head, until they were cut off with a soft,  
“Ohh darling.” Bo pulled away himself and his knee, much to your displeasure. he grabbed hold of your chin, making you look towards the knee you enjoyed so much, there was a pool of juices. right on his work jeans. “Why dont you look at that? He fought off a smug giggle. 
Thoughts finally settled like dust and the thought of you leaving that big spot sank it, eyes widened in up embarrassment and before you could stutter up an apology. Bo had hoisted you up onto the counter, finally giving your back a lil break. 
Bo’s lips turned from a smirk to a genuine smile but he had to feign annoyance,  “Dammit baby how am I gonna explain this to the tourists?” He teased while he leaned into you once more, and your legs squeezed his hips, that was all you could do, your tongue tied and brain jumbled but your body knew well.
Bo tsked underneath his breath, bringing your body closer into his own. He hummed against your neck, his mouth finding itself in the crook of it, he placed sloppy kisses that felt more like bites.
meanwhile you felt your face heat up once more, your brain scrambling to put a sentence together, the best it could do for you was  “I.. I... dunno”  your voice was your biggest give-away of you being flustered, sounding like a deer in headlights and it turned on Bo even more.
“I... I?” He mocked you in-between spreading marks on your neck. “Should I just tell them that my girlfriend did this?”
The way you tensed up underneath him almost made him groan into your neck, almost. He stopped his rough kisses.
“My sexy girlfriend rubbed herself against my knee? god, she almost came~” His teases and tone made your brain overheat, you really couldn’t think now and he knew it by the look in your eyes. “Just because of me just doing thiss~”
This time he pressed his thigh into your needy cunt, not moving it. The muscles in your legs tensed up around him. He watched your face twisted into a pleading look and a choked out moan came out while another puddle worked itself into his work jeans.
The smiled turned into a proud grin, proud of what he could make you into. He slowly so very slowly pulled his leg back and your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, your own thighs now twitching. nails digging through his work shirt and into his skin.
A loud groan erupted from his throat and the weak little moan that uttered from you knocked him over the edge, his eyes boring into yours. watching you closely as he hastily pulled your skirt down, your panties coming off with it. 
“Bo please fuck me.. I.. I need you. I needed you all day.” You confessed quickly, your body craving him so bad, another touch of his and you might cum.
“That’s all i wanted baby, ya see?” 
You gave him an enthusiastic nod which made him bite his lower lip, compliance was the way to go for him always. 
He leaned his head onto your bruised and bitten neck as his hands went to undo his pants. He was the one who couldn’t think now, he wanted to fuck his aching cock into you so damn bad. wanted to feel your hot little pussy around his cock, twitching while you cu-
“Fuck” he growled to himself while he begrudging pulled away. it drew a pathetic little please from you. 
Bo dropped to his knees on the hard tile resembling a sinner in church. his eyes at the same level as your already dripping cunt, the sight made his mouth water. 
Those strong hands of his, brought your pussy to his waiting mouth where he ate like a man starved, feasting on your cunt. His tongue reached deep into you, the walls of your pussy twitching on his tongue, sucking it in and then pushing it out. instinctively, your hips bucking, trying to ride his mouth but his hands that gripped onto your thighs made you stay put. 
All you could do was sit there and moan, somewhat cheering him on with the noises you made as he fucked you with his tongue. “Good god! fuck bo!” You didn’t realized that you were speaking, urging him on.
The knot only tightened when his tongue and sucking lips found that throbbing clit of yours. His groans filled your cunt while your pathetic little sounds found filled his ears. 
“Bo..bo..bo! I might cumm, god, I might cum!” The tone of your voice was pathetic, how you tried to fuck yourself back onto him was pathetic and how your pussy throbbed just by moaning his name was pathetic. 
he fucking loved it  
he fucking craved it 
Another long moan passed your lips, sounding almost guttural as he stuffed two fingers into your drooling cunt. He lifted his head up to see just how much of a mess you were right now, how close you were to falling off of the edge. He pushed into that spongy spot and watched how your body reacted it with a wide grin. 
you almost came right then but somehow you found the strength not to, much to his dismay.
“Come on darlin’~ fucking cum you know you want to.” His voice was rough and so was his fingers, punishing your poor g-spot with cruel presses into it. “Look at me baby, I wanna see your face while I make you cum, got it?”
following orders, you lifted your head to look at right at him, drool dripping off of your bottom look. you were so so close to cumming and he could tell.
Bo sped up his fingers, reaching deeper into you, stretching you with his two fingers, when his thumb started pushing, grinding itself onto your clit that was when the knot snapped.
You squealed, shaking the entire kitchen with it. You saw white and continued to do so for a bit coming off of your high, slumped against the cabinet, completely out of it until you heard a familiar chuckle, a rather smug chuckle. 
Bo was licking his fingers and thumb clean, “Goddamn~ love.” His whispered mostly to himself but he saw you looking at him. His face was drenched with your squirt. 
immediately your face turned a bright red over the flushed look your body already had. 
Bo tsked as he stood up once ore, finally undoing his belt, you heard the metal on it clang against the tile. “You’re gonna do that on my cock, ya hear?” all you could do was nod.
He pressed the head of his cock right against your needy opening. His eyes looking into yours before he thrust deep, stretching your little pussy on his cock in one go. 
Both of you moaned together, your bodies falling onto each other. Bo’s face back into your bruised neck and your nails finding themselves into those indents from earlier.  It took a second for both of y’all to recuperate, 
Bo finally rocked his hips, pumping into your sweet little pussy while his mouth suck and bite onto the already marked skin. Weak little noises crawled out of your throat, you fucked yourself back onto him and this time he didn’t hold you still
You two wanted to cum so bad, fucking each other. Bo thrusts were getting rough, his cock jamming itself into your g-spot and soon that knot came back sooner than you expected. 
Bo was murmuring utter nonsense into your neck, his accent the thickest you ever heard it before. he fucked into you hard, stuffing you full of cock. The need to see you squirt was the only thing keeping him from pumping you full of cum right now especially how your pussy was milking him. 
“B...bo fuck fuck fuck!” You saw white again, it felt like your body was taking a screenshot while bo grunted, flooding your pussy with two loads worth of cum. seeing you squirt was enough to send him over the edge. 
“Good girl.. good girl..” he grunted into your neck, still thrusting his cum into you. 
“I love you bo. “ you whispered to him when you came off of your high for the second time, 
“i love you too.” bo placed a sweet kiss onto your lips, you kissed him back just as sweet. A little moan enter the kiss when you felt him thrust into you once more. 
He wanted to see you squirt just one more time.
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<𝟹 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 <𝟹:
Micheal Meyers:
He wasn’t entirely aware of his effect on you, he was mostly confused.
Why were you gripping on him tighter
Why were you burying your face in his arm when he looked at you in a certain way
When you mustered enough courage to tell him, he did it more often
on purpose now-
He would bring you up to him, comparing how small you were compared to his like 6′0 to 6′9 frame (Look there is a lot of different answers to how tall he is, just pick a height you like lol)
He would look down at you with his intense eyes, seemingly fucking you with them while you two stood in line for food. 
speaking of that day, you couldn’t even speak to order food. Mikey had to sign for you both. 
Squirting, well pee-paw mike was surprised at first, thinking that it was a weird. 
until you did it more and more. 
If hes fucking you and you squirted- golly gee, hes fucking into you harder
possibly making you cum/squirt even more now.
thanks micheal
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56 notes · View notes
sunkendreams · 22 hours ago
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Hallo! I’d like to request something smutty with a little bit of angst/comfort and horror if that’s possible! I don’t know who exactly you write for but Jason or either of the leatherfaces would be awesome!!! Whatever length you feel like writing. Keep up all the amazing work, I’m a huge fan!!! <3
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┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚.
┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘁𝘁 ( 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 ) 𝘅 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.
┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧/𝟭𝟴+! 𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗲, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮, 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗲.
┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ roughly 3K.
┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 & 𝗜’𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁! 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗰𝗺: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆’𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆! ❤️
┊ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — @peachygothgirl ; @mrs-heelshire ; @slasherfantasy ; @the-wordis-bird ; @suguruswife ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @lttlegore ; @dootys ; @mehidktbh ; @darklylucid ; @the-anxious-youth ; @callmemeelah ; @krakersy ; @comicalrage ; @horrorstories123 ; @bloodwithpeachmilk
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The tormented screams of those slaughtered inside of the Hewitt homestead would likely haunt you for months to come. Chainsaws and sawblades permeated every inch of your mind, and no thought seemed comforting. You were staring into the mirror, entrenched in gore, spattered in blood that was both yours and someone else’s — you barely recognized yourself. It felt wrong, what you helped do to those people, but the Hewitts’ were your family, now. You couldn’t abandon or turn your back on family, especially Thomas.
Thomas.
You’d fallen so in love with him that when he put the fleshy veil of that dark-headed stranger onto his face, you were excusing it all away, no matter how horrified you were. Luda Mae’s strangled gasp of complete and utter shock, Charles’s volatile encouragement of sawing Monty’s other leg off, the carnage, the blood — you don’t know how much you cleaned up. Your hands ached so bad that they trembled. Everything ached, everything felt numb.
There were noises from downstairs, all coming from Charles as Luda Mae tended to Monty, who, as of now, was strewn out across the couch, unconscious, both legs wrapped in so much gauze and sheets that it looked lumpy, misshapen. The whole house smelled like blood and bleach.
Thomas had run out after some girl, chasing her down toward the road, and you couldn’t bring yourself to go anywhere but here, shaking so hard that you had to grip the edge of the sink for support. You broke down — you sobbed, salty tears pouring over your bloodstained countenance.
You were so lost within your own melancholy and shock that you didn’t notice the door creaking open, a familiar, hulking shape wedging through the gap. Thomas had taken the face off as soon as he saw that look in your eye — he scared you. It was a notion he’d felt for his entire life, and he could handle now, accept fear from everyone except for you.
Thomas left it down in the basement where it belonged, covered in dirt and gore, caked in crimson, the same as you. He clutched that leathery muzzle within one hand, keeping himself vulnerable and open to you, no obstruction of the mask. It made him physically ill to watch you sob and wretch into the sink, and without any hesitance, he wandered toward you, settling a massive palm along your back.
He hated seeing you like this, hated knowing you’d gotten soiled in the blood of strangers. Thomas’s thick fingers gingerly carded throughout your tresses, and he towered over you, feeling you begin to slump into him. Big arms moved to catch you, cradling you against his chest. You both smelled pungent, like copper and decay.
The bathroom felt detached from the rest of the household, a separate reality where you could attempt to relax. You practically dropped yourself into Thomas’s hold, realizing that he’d come without the mask, without wearing the face of another man. It was him — your Thomas, and no one else.
“Thomas,” You snubbed, sniffling so hard that you nearly choked. Another sob swelled within your chest, and your hands fumbled around, searching to cradle his face, unobstructed and clear of everything. As soon as your palms cupped his cheeks, he was stooping down, eyes closed. “Don’t leave me.”
With a resonant grunt, he immediately shook his head, pressing a tender kiss against your forehead. This was a completely different man from the one who sawed a man in half and took the leg of another hours prior. He was himself, he was yours, and you didn’t want to lose him. You knew it was in defense of his family, but it didn’t make it any less harrowing.
Thomas wasn’t stupid — he knew just how much he’d frightened you and his mother. The sound of the chainsaw was grating, still ringing in his ears even after he’d tossed the bloodied weapon out onto the front steps. He felt horrible, a gut-wrenching pain that made his heart ache, ache for you, ache for everything that had transpired over the last several hours. You were safe, and you were here, and that was what mattered most to him.
He wondered if you still loved him.
Had your feelings changed after everything you saw? Would you think less of him? Thomas was full of burning questions that needed answers, but he could tell that you had something to say. Those big arms wrapped around you, and he was relieved when you didn’t flinch or try to pull away from him.
“I love you,” You whispered, clasping his face between both of your hands. “I’ll always love you,” You hesitated, swallowing hard for the next sentence. “No matter what — whatever you do, I love you.” It answered his questions and struck away his doubts all at once, tears pricking at his eyes.
Lacking any hesitation, Thomas gently moved inward for a kiss, pressing his mouth to yours, both compassionate and tender. He could taste the salt from your tears, intermingled with blood. He counted himself lucky, lucky that he had you still, after everything — after what he was, what he looked like.
A softer grunt vibrated at the bottom of his throat, feeling one of your hands preen through his brunette tresses. He careened into you, delivering kiss after kiss, as sweet and as soft as he could be. Thomas loved you so much that it hurt — loved you more than he could love another, love himself. You were everything to him.
“Do you still love me?” Your voice broke, revealing the tremulous quiver trapped within your throat, your insecurities and your doubts laid bare before Thomas. Admittedly, the question was a bombshell to the colossal man, whose gaze flooded with a wave of sympathy. There was nothing that you could do to lose his love — he knew that with absolute certainty.
Thomas nodded several times over, and now it was his turn to hold your face, tilting inward until his forehead nestled against yours. Calloused, roughened lips pressed themselves to your wet cheeks, kissing away your tears, a lull of a rumble reverberating from within his chest. He didn’t want you to have these doubts lingering about in your head for the rest of the night, and so he tried his best to speak, tried to tell you.
“Love.” Akin to thunder, that guttural baritone sent shockwaves right into the pit of your stomach. It was difficult for him to speak as it stood, and his simple yet meaningful proclamation eased your nerves, quelled your doubts like the sun breaking over stormy skies. Such a heartfelt utterance was accompanied by a kiss.
With a quivering, sharp inhale, you reciprocated his kiss, hands wrenching themselves into the front of his shirt, no matter how bloodied it happened to be. Goosebumps collected themselves at the base of your spine when you heard Thomas grunt into your mouth, kissing you with a voracious need. The only reason you parted was to breathe, fingers slacking as you relinquished your hold on the front of his shirt.
The moment still hung heavy between the two of you, but you wanted to get clean, and so did he. Thomas gently coaxed you toward the bath — he needed one just as badly as you did, if not more. The old shower spout hung overhead, springing to life with jolts of water as he turned the silvery knob toward the left.
Hot streams of well water poured from the head of the shower, cascading down into the cracked, porcelain basin of the bathtub. Thomas kept you close, hovering beside you as you began to undress, albeit sluggishly. Your clothing was stained beyond compare, filthy and drenched in caked crimson, old and new. Your hands trembled throughout, clamoring with a button as you slipped out of your garments.
Following suit, Thomas wanted out of his bloodstained clothing just as much as you did, sticky with dirt and perspiration, gore and ichor. Weighty hands fell across your back as he helped you into the shower, removing his own clothing with a series of softer grunts. As soon as heavy jets of water hit his skin, there was a sense of ease.
The amount of space between the both of you was rather slim considering how much room Thomas enveloped, reaching overhead to drag the curtain closed. Rusty-colored blood went spiraling down the drain from the both of you, moreso Thomas than you, but it was still plenty. Even water couldn’t wash away the forlorn feelings left behind in the wake of the killings — you wanted to take your mind off of it.
Thomas pressed kisses against your back, chest erupting with a series of softer rumbles. You were shivering despite the hot water, practically sinking into him. The water that drifted below had turned ruddy, tinged with faint traces of ruby. You watched the drain swirl, being cleansed of blood, but you still felt unclean.
Swiveling around within his grasp, you nestled yourself against him, flush with his burly, bulky physique. You didn’t say anything — in all actuality, you didn’t need to. You wanted to take your mind off of the last several hours so badly, and this was one of the ways that you knew how. Thomas showed no objection to such a sentiment, gaze burning with compassion, burning with desire as his hands slipped to your hips.
Your hands meekly clamored toward his broad shoulders, having to rock up onto your toes just to have some sort of reach. A foggy, lustful haze was all you needed to let your mind drift away, digits carding through Thomas’s wet tresses, lightly tugging on them as he surged forward. He plucked you up from the porcelain basin as if you were weightless, locking you in with one arm as the other cupped your hip.
“I need you,” You murmured, loud enough to catch over the falling water against your bodies, flowing down the length of the bathtub. Your lips parted, a soft exhale escaping you when Thomas leaned inward, mouth snug against your collarbone. Those simple, saccharine utterances were enough to get him hard. “Thomas.” You sighed.
The love you had for Thomas outweighed all the carnage wrought this evening, and that was something you intended on clinging to. No matter what, you loved him — you needed him, truthfully. As he lavished your slick skin with passionate kisses, his cock began to press into your inner thigh, thick and throbbing.
Keeping your hands perched atop his shoulders, your fingers sunk into his scarred, roughened skin, clutching onto him for dear life as his mouth moved to tangle with yours. The kiss was bruising, possessing some edge of roughness to it, hand squeezing into the swell of your hip. Thomas was beginning to spiral down into his own pit of lust, same as you, hearing you moan into his lips with a stuttered sigh.
It was peaceful here, certainly atmospheric, the bathroom permeated with some dull, dismal glow that left ample shadow throughout. It was just you and Thomas — that was all you needed, all you wanted it to be. A shudder coursed through your body as he adjusted you, lowering you toward his aching cock. Kiss after kiss of pure, unrestrained lust set your nerves ablaze, igniting a fire within the pit of your stomach that demanded to be extinguished.
He wanted to make love to you — that was what you ultimately deserved. Thomas had some nagging fear that a violent depiction of him was all you’d ever see, and he was desperate to show you otherwise. Maybe you knew already, but the worry had set in, seeping into his very bones.
There was an adoring look within his eyes, which were often blown-out, nearly black with lust, but you could see those amber flecks within his irises. He was still very much your Thomas, you realized — the same man you’d fallen in love with, same man who would kill to defend you, protect his family.
He eased you down onto his cock, keeping you pinned within the taut bulk of his arm, burly bicep flexing into the center of your spine. It was easier for him to guide you this way, have you face-to-face as Thomas sunk his cock into you. It was a stretch each and every time, sluggishly rutting into your tight cunt.
You moaned, nails digging themselves into his shoulders, effectively ripping your mind away into now, into the present of him filling you up with his cock. It served as the perfect distraction, your stomach churning with a flickering fire, soon turning blistering as he began to guide you up and down. He brought his hips forward, aiming for steady thrusts that left you full and satiated each time.
Your head began to lag forward, prompting him to meet you halfway, foreheads nestled together as he fucked into you with a sweetness to him, deliberate and lacking an ounce of roughness. Thomas felt your mouth careen into his, your kiss smoldering, enough to make his cock twitch and throb inside of you.
Thomas handled you with the utmost care, calloused digits kneading into your hip, his palm practically molded to your flesh as if you were made for him. He dwarfed you, swallowed you whole with every asset of his being — size, strength, everything. It made you feel enveloped by his presence.
A pleasurable wave washed over you, and the fire still burned within your belly, beginning to be quelled by the motions of Thomas’s hips as he softly rutted away at your cunt. His cock nearly pulled out completely before he was thrusting back in until he couldn’t fit anymore of himself inside of you.
“Thomas,” You moaned, shielded from the onslaught of warm water by Thomas’s hulking frame. He picked up the pace, but only slightly, showing a great deal of self-restraint, thrusting away at you. Each gentle clap of flesh against flesh was wet and sticky, friction crackling between the both of you.
He needed you so terribly, so much more than you would ever need him. Thomas gripped you tightly, his hands settling at your hips and the small of your back, letting you meet his cock with each thrust, tugging you downward. It was a continuous loop of his lovemaking, feeling your legs squeeze at his waist.
The desire to fill you up with his cum was beginning to bolt ahead of his sluggishness, and again, Thomas’s pace picked up to something more intense. You whimpered, mouth slack and agape as a myriad of needy moans left you, filling the air as you scrambled to hold onto him.
“Keep going,” You panted, beginning to entertain his rougher streak, even if he manhandled you with loving intent, you wanted him to stop holding back so much. “You can be rougher.” You groaned, and that was all the encouragement required for Thomas to really pick up speed.
Like a bull out of the pen, he grunted, battering your cunt with his cock, leaving your core slathered with precum, even if it was all washed away by the water. You cried out, your mouth soon overtaken by another compassionate kiss by your paramour, who groaned into your lips when you pulled on his hair.
Your digits curled into his tresses, tight and snug as Thomas began to fuck into you with the usual amount of brute strength. His hand clamped so hard into your hip that it began to ache, likely leaving behind traces of bruises after it was all said and done. You kissed him again, your cunt clenching around his cock.
Rutting inside of you, his cock pulsed and throbbed with heat, another barrage of precum coating your insides. He grunted, the noises loud and right next to your ear, sounding similar to the tempestuous claps of thunder. He was getting close, desperately wanting to cum inside of you.
The roughness was what got to him, accompanied by your soft pleas of ‘harder’ and ‘more’. Thomas wanted to give you exactly what you wanted, barely pulling himself out halfway before he was pounding back inside of you, cock barreling toward your cervix as he fucked you with a heated ferocity.
It was only when you came that he unraveled too, cumming inside of you with ropes of hot seed, keeping you there, overcome with the desire to breed you. Thomas knew it wasn’t the place to succumb to carnal want, especially with your fragile state, but he couldn’t help it.
Tendrils of cum slathered your inner thighs and slit even after he pulled out, leaving you feeling both satiated and akin to an abyss. The shower did its job of washing away perspiration, blood, dirt, and whatever cum happened to get on you after the fact.
Thomas turned the water off several minutes later, after you both had properly cleaned with bars and bottles of soap. You felt better, but not completely — a wave of exhaustion collided with you as soon as you began to dry off, retrieving your night robe from the dingy countertop.
He carried you to bed that night, but Thomas couldn’t sleep, and neither could you.
Both of you were struggling with the events that had transpired, wrestling with your own demons, but there was one constant that the two of you shared besides restless nights, and that was love. You weren’t about to drift off without telling him that.
“I love you, Thomas.” You whispered, curled into his burly chest, stroking along the scars laced and littered across the forearm that had wrapped itself around your midsection. He squeezes you tight, pressing his lips into the curve of your jaw, and then into the side of your face.
“No matter what.”
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horrorstories123 · a day ago
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Tug of war
Summary: You finally manage to make Michael fall by playing tug of war but Michael gets his revenge!
Paring: Michael Myers x reader
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Tagslist: @brxwrvth @dootys @callmemeelah @slash3rl0v3r @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh
Word count: 547
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Playing tug of war with Michael was never easy, considering the fact that he's VERY strong, when you we're bored you always wanted to play tug of war with him for some odd reason. You found it fun, you also wanted to see how strong you are. Your main goal was to make Michael fall. You've tried many times but fell in the process.
Now you we're practically hanging on for dear life as you were playing tug of war again with a blanket that was on the couch, Michael was using his full strength since you practically begged him to do it, you could feel your feet sliding against the carpet as he began to pull harder. Michele then tugged on the blanket, yanking you forward.
“No fair!” You whined, getting a good grip so you could pull back. To your surprise Michael looked like he was starting to loose his grip, this was your chance. To make the shape himself fall on his back. You let go of the blanket making Michael fall, you flinched when you heard the loud sound of him falling. He laid there, not moving a muscle, worriedly, you went over to him. “Michael! You okay!?”
His blue eyes were staring into yours, you knew you’re in trouble, he only gets like this when he’s angry, he’s more than angry…he’s FURIOUS. Michael quickly sat up making you jump, he watched your every live waiting for a right moment to attack. You ran upstairs not trying to risk it. “IM SORRY FORGIVE ME PLEASE!” It wasn’t a joke anymore, he’s coming after you, who k ow’s what he’s gonna do to you.
You didn’t have time to lock the door since you heard his slow footsteps coming up the stairs, your first thought was to hide in a closet. You couldn’t think of anywhere else as you heard the door open. “Too slow!” You whisper shouted. You could feel his eyes from the back of your head and was scared to turn around, you then felt you pick him up and throw you on the bed.
“Hey what gives! I said I was sorry mike!” Michael then did something that definitely caught you off guard, he ticked you. Moving his hands all over your stomach as you squirmed around on the bed, kicking your legs begging for mercy. “IM SORRY IM SORRY I WONT DO IT AGAIN!” You wheezed feeling the tears in the corners of your eyes cause of his torture. It felt like he was tickling you for hours.
He stopped you after a few minutes, you were now catching your breath, rolling onto your stomach. It hurts but at the same time you did ask for it, wanting to mess with the shape himself. His chest was moving very fast, he was tired too, he looked at you, then put his hand on your head. You both were now tired, you knew that if he was tired he would let you slide with cuddling next to him. You held onto to his waist with a grin.
He put his arm around you protectively, letting you fall asleep on his chest, he soon fell asleep right after you, he won’t tell you.. but he enjoys to play with you.
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aggravatetheaxe · a day ago
Note
"You're scaring me" prompt for either Lester or Courtney? 😳
dangerous sentence prompts
I chose Lester :D GN!Reader
cw: canon typical death, vehicular manslaughter (or was it?), comfort that turns into hurt
soundtrack: x
--
It had been an accident. That's what you kept telling yourself.
Lester was a good guy. He treated you right, and in your life, that was an unfortunate rarity. You couldn't say the same for your last few boyfriends - the kinds of guys your parents had always wanted you to date, put-together and financially successful. Who would have thought the type they always warned you about would be exactly what you needed?
Les was simple and honest. Life out here was simple and honest. And you felt free.
As long as you stayed away from Ambrose.
The abandoned town gave you the creeps, but you'd learned to keep yourself busy. The state of Lester's home had given you a long-term project, and from there, you'd just picked stuff up as you went. Lester worked nine to five; you had all the time in the world for any hobbies you wanted to pursue, and he was indulgent as anything if you asked him to take you somewhere.
It was an accident. It was an accident.
That day had started out so well - one of his few days off, something you'd been looking forward to for a while. You'd cooked breakfast while he slept in for the first time in weeks, then you'd watched some old CHiPs re-runs together while munching on your sausage and eggs. It was a nice day, not too hot, so you'd agreed to go on a drive and maybe do some errands in the next town.
With the wind in your hair and Lester's hand on your knee, your heart swelled to bursting. No one had ever told you that freedom could be so easy. So simple.
No one had ever told you how fragile it was, either.
The morning was drawing to a close by the time you headed back. It was approaching 2 PM, and you'd picked up a few groceries that you were excited to incorporate into a big lunch. The road turned from pavement to dirt, the trees becoming denser and swallowing the truck into their world - close, quiet, cool. All the things you now associated with home. Beside you, Lester sang one of the silly songs he liked to make up for anything and everything. He knew they made you laugh, and you were nearly doubled over now, tears in your eyes.
It all happened so fast that, at first, you couldn't even process it.
There was a rustling in the trees, accompanied by snapping twigs and desperate, ragged shouting. Human shouting, tortured. You went to turn your head but the person had already staggered out of the woods and flung themselves into the road. They were at least twenty feet ahead of the truck, though, and picked themselves up, waving their arms to get your attention.
An older man. His hair clung to her face, matted with blood and sweat; his clothes were stained similarly, streaked with dirt. His eyes were wild with the kind of fear you'd never seen on a human face before. The sight alone was disturbing.
You waited for Lester to pull over. Lester was a good guy, after all. There was plenty of time for him to stop - plenty of space between the grille of the truck and the man's body.
But he kept going. The engine revved abruptly. And then there wasn't space at all.
You could feel the man crumple under the dual wheels of the Chevy. That was the worst part - the sensation of his bones breaking, his muscles bursting, the blood spilling. Lester had not merely hit this man, he'd run him over.
And just when you thought the nightmare couldn't get any worse, he stopped short, threw the truck in reverse, and backed over him with equal ferocity.
Your throat hurt, but you couldn't tell if you were screaming. Someone was saying "oh my god, oh my god" but it was tinny in your ears, and your gaze was fixed on Lester's expression: First, just as startled as you, then stony, full of conviction. Terrifying.
"Oh my god, Lester, what did you do?!" By the time you recognized your own voice again, the man's mangled body lay in the road before you.
Your question seemed to shake Lester out of his single-minded reverie, if only for a moment. His brows tilted, gaze bright, mouth open slightly as he absorbed your panic.
"You stay right here, sweetpea," he finally said, already half way out of the truck as he said it. "Don't look, darlin', don't look."
As horrified and confused as you were, you took his advice, staring into your lap. You couldn't see anything clearly, thank whatever god was listening, but you sensed Lester moving in your peripheral. Huffs and grunts reached your ears, the sound of displaced gravel scraping, and you knew he must be dragging the man.
But why? What the fuck was happening?
Lester was strong. He had to be, hauling dead weight every day like he did. The man's body was just another dead weight, so much roadkill to be thrown in the back of the truck like all the rest. That thought made you nauseous.
When Lester finally returned to the driver's seat, quite literally red-handed, you leaned away from him. Involuntarily - but he noticed nonetheless. Hurt flashed across his face for a moment, but the way he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, you could tell he knew full well how bad this looked.
"It's okay, honey." He reached and grabbed the CB radio receiver from its hitch, rolling up one sleeve despite the blood. "It's okay, we jus' ... gotta call Bo down here. Things'll be all right, don't you worry none."
He wasn't cold now like he'd been during the act, swallowing and shaking with adrenaline, but he had regained his single-mindedness. What did Bo have to do with this? What was going on?
"Lester," you finally eked out, "what happened? Why'd you hit him? You had time - "
His brows drew as he fiddled with the dials. "Don' ask me questions you don' wanna know the answers to." To his credit, there was a hint of misery in his voice - a tired, resigned misery - but he'd never spoken to you so firmly.
"You're scaring me," you whispered.
Those words finally stopped him. He paused, lowering the receiver and looking at you with an expression that begged you to understand. But how could you understand something inexplicable? "I'd never hurt you, sweetpea. That's all ya need ta know."
Eventually, Bo showed up, shotgun tucked under one arm, cap brim pulled low over his eyes. Lester got out of the truck, and they went around back together, speaking in hushed but heated tones. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you hardly wanted to. The trip to the roadkill pit and the next hour spent there told you all you needed to know, even if you didn't technically see anything.
It wasn't until later that week, when Lester could no longer stand the distance between you, that you got the full story. You'd always got the feeling that Bo was dangerous, but this...
Lester was different, though, right? It had just been an accident. An unfortunate accident that happened to benefit Lester's beloved older sibling. Lester was different.
It had been an accident. That's what you kept telling yourself, anyway.
Turned out there were a lot of things you had to tell yourself to save your sanity. Lester should know that better than anybody.
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thegothempress · 7 hours ago
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slashers and images/memes that remind me of them for no reason
billy lenz
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bubba sawyer
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michael
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brahms
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chop top and nubbins
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chucky
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freddy
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candyman
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billy/stu
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jason
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darlingverse · 2 days ago
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━━𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄
{characters: lawrence, theo, brahms, and aubrey}
rating: explicit
summary: how they celebrate valentines day.
warnings: SMUT, language, FLUFF
LAWRENCE loves valentines day for the sex.
° In his eyes, that's its purpose: sex. He's a dirty, nasty perverted man. He has sex on the brain twenty-four-seven, but there's something different about V-Day sex. It's probably because it's one of the few days a year where sex is like a national holiday.
° Unfortunately, Lawrence has to work late on the fourteenth. (He probably wouldn't if he could cool down the serial killing for two seconds, but he's a creature of impulse.) But that doesn't mean you can't celebrate! Before he leaves for work, he'll lay out a little present on the coffee table for you to find. (Spoiler alert: it's some kind of lingerie.) He might even go the extra mile and give you an additional present - a sex toy you've been eyeing.
° It's your job to set the mood for when he returns. You have the whole day to get ready, so pamper yourself. Light some candles and layout the bottles of wine he's saved for the occasion. When Lawrence finally comes home, be prepared for him in that cute lingerie set at the door. Lawrence will drop everything the instant he sees you. The first round, you don’t even make it to the couch. Lawrence fucks you on every available surface in his home. That pretty little lace number wound up torn to shreds in a heap by the kitchen counter, never to be used again. All in all, 10/10 a great way to celebrate the holiday.
THEO doesn’t like Valentine’s Day.
° Actually, he hates it. Theo isn’t capable of feeling love, and he doesn’t get the hype. He’ll pretend for the public, though. He has an image to maintain.
° Theo will take you to a high-end restaurant and present you with a bouquet of blood-red roses. If you’re lucky, he’ll give you a kiss on the cheek (conveniently in front of others). However, if you’re a little closer to Theo, he may try and show genuine affection with a homemade gift.
° Has no interest in having sex, but if he knows you want it, then he’ll appease you. He’ll focus on giving you pleasure rather than receiving pleasure. If you’re supportive of his … nighttime occupation, Theo will bring you along and indulge in some blood kink.
BRAHMS has never celebrated Valentine's Day.
° It's not a thing where he's from. If anything, they probably have a holiday like Lupercalia, which celebrates fertility, but no holiday to celebrate love. This is one of the things that he adores about you - you can introduce him to so many wonderful new things. His world's calendar is different than the human world's, so it might take some calculating to figure out when to celebrate, but Brahms has never backed down from a challenge.
° He'll be interested in celebrating the love aspect of Valentine's Day. I mean - an entire day to dedicate to you, the love of his life?!?! Sign him the fuck up! Brahms will shower you with gifts - jewelry, flowers, clothes. He makes a homemade valentine for you made with black lace and pearls. (Brahms is amazing at calligraphy and art, so the card comes out beautiful.)
° Brahms plans out the whole day. First, breakfast in bed, complete with snuggles and gift-giving. For lunch, Brahms takes you on a picnic in the garden. He takes the opportunity to tell you exactly how much he loves you, how beautiful you are, how honored he is that you are in his life. Finally, dinner is an intimate affair, which will lead directly into a sweet round of lovemaking.
AUBREY is intrigued.
° Like Brahms, Aubrey has never heard of Valentine's Day. It’s a uniquely human holiday. The fae celebrate Beltane—a fertility holiday—yet they don’t have a holiday for love. So Aubrey, being the massive nerd he is, will go on a research deep dive to learn about it.
° Aubrey makes the day special to you. He’ll purchase some treats he knows you enjoy from the market and compose a poem in your honor. He doesn’t expect anything in return, but if you do give him something, he’ll be pleasantly surprised.
° He would love to celebrate by spending the day with you. Not doing anything in particular. Just being in your presence is enough. If you’re game, Aubrey will sequester you away in his room, where you’ll cuddle by the fire and take turns reading to each other.
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early20sfailingplenty · 2 days ago
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Fuck it, random Sinclair headcanon that just popped in my head.
Lester has never been to the beach before. He can swim, he's swam in rivers and a few lakes but never the beach. He's always wanted to see what all the fuss is about but he's never been able to justify taking the time off work (Bo would also probably bitch and moan).
Until his S/O brings up the idea of going to the beach for the weekend, it has been a particularly hot summer after all. He absolutely jumps at the chance, surely he can take just a couple days off and Bo would eventually stop pouting.
He would love it so much, jumping around in water, trying to find little crabs in the sand, finding shells and maybe doing a spot of fishing. He'd absolutely underestimate the strength of the waves at first and get knocked over on his ass a few times.
By the time the weekend is over you'd have a new necklace with a lovely little sand coloured shell
LESTER OUR BELOVED🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭
If there's a lake or a creek near Ambrose, I can totally see Lester going there to cool off/have a wash before he goes to see the twins or come home to you, but it's not the same as a beach and you both know it. You get him to book the time off work and you can't use it to surprise him because Lester will pester and pester until you tell him what's going on - he's always kept on the outside at arm's length from the brothers and so he's also always out of the loop with them too and he wouldn't want to feel that way with you, so no surprises! Plus it could flare up his rejection sensitivity and then it's just an even bigger mess so it's best to be honest from the get go!
Lester loves the beach immediately, flinging his shoes and clothes in every which way and running for the water, giggles drowned out by Jonesy's barking (you know he got Vincent to convince Bo to let Jonesy out too. Bo doesn't fare so well with three Sinclairs gone, but he makes do. He's got Vincent, so he's already got everyone he needs right there with him). He's chaotic and messy and silly and it makes your heart bleed to see him so happy.
And the shell necklace!!!! Surprise him with one too and watch him try not to cry!!!🥺💗
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karolinatheczechone · 10 hours ago
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💗🌸✨Boop~!✨🌸💗
✨🌸💗I saw that requests are open!~✨🌸💗
✨🌸💗so I was wondering if you could do jason and billy with a short s/o?✨🌸💗
✨🌸💗like she’s so soft and tiny!~✨🌸💗
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Notes: Oh yes yes! I’m so glad you requested this Angel, since I’m too short for people around my age <3
Jason & Billy with a short S/O
Jason
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• Awww.. look at you… you’re so tiny compared to him! He loves it so much~
• Definitely be the type of guy who would be so fascinated by you, like you were a cute little animal
• Will treat you like a fragile object. 100%. And your softness? Oh boy, he melts! 💞
• You can make him from mad to soft in seconds. One time when he came to the cabin, he was furious. One of the campers ran away, making it to the nearest house for some secure.
• When he saw you at home, though. He wasn’t furious anymore. He was a softie
• Please hug him. He wants to receive attention from you so much 💘
Billy
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• This man will definitely love you too, although having harder time showing it
• Teasing? Yessir, on a daily basis.
• Unexpectedly picking you up? Also a big yes
• Expect this kind of surprises, especially when you two are alone
• He will tease you of course, but if you kindly tell him that you don’t like it and it makes you uncomfortable, he will stop
• Give this man some kisses please 🥺 he needs them too
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