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nightingalescall · 4 months

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God's Perfect Lamb

Kingdom of Ebreau:

Prologue(you are here)|part 1|part 2

"OH MY GOD!!!!!"

You screamed as you free fell from the sky. The wind whistled pass you, whipping your hair and slapping your cheeks until they stung. You flailed about, thrashing your arms and legs in the air, desperately hoping to slow your descend into inevitable doom.

This day could not get any weirder. You thought the day when you got transmigrated into this world took first place in that department but fate took that as a challenge and proceeded to completely and utterly prove you wrong. The day you got here, at least you were safely lying in an open field on the outskirts of the city, unlike now where you were falling to your death from the sky.

You had endured a great amount of hardship during your stay in this world. You know all those stories about someone getting transmigrated into a parallel world as a noble or wealthy merchant or maybe even a royal? Well, you didn't get that privilege. You weren't placed into the body of a princess, a duchess, a countess or.....anybody, to be honest. You were just you. Plain old (y/n). So the idea living a life of luxury and comfort was thrown straight out the window at that revelation. You had nothing with you. No money, no property, no status. You had to start from the ground up if you have wanted to survive in this new world.

But that wasn't the biggest problem. By "nothing", that includes having no form of identification. You're not sure if it's just a subject of it never being brought up in those novels or if identification just wasn't a thing in those world, but in this one, it was a serious issue.

Having neither a place to stay nor enough money to buy one, you were forced onto the streets until you had the finances to own one. So it wasn't unexpected when the authorities took notice of you and brought you to their headquarters to give you necessary aid. It was all going well until they found out they had absolutely no record on you in their database. That's when they became hostile and grilled you to no end.

You couldn't just say you were from another universe and you had no information to based any lies on so many of their question were met with a silent stare or a soft "um".

In the end, they decided to label you a person of interest and should be kept under surveillance since they had no dirt on you to convict or pardon any crimes you may have potentially committed (even though you didn't). You were both relieved and surprised at the conclusion they came to since even you, yourself were convinced they were going to throw you in jail.

With no charges pressed on you, you were free to go. But where though? You were still homeless, jobless and penniless. Pitying you, they ended up giving you the help they initially planned on giving. They gave you a job.

And that's how you ended up as their errand girl. Any trivial or simple matters such as relaying messages to guards, sending documents to scribes and then retrieving them, delivering packages to and from the headquarters etc etc. It was an easy job so the low pay wasn't a surprise. It was barely enough for the small house you rented a few blocks away from headquarters. However, you were given food and allowed to eat with the guards at headquarters everyday as long as you remained their errand girl so that saves you the money and worry of getting enough to eat. It was a win-win situation for both parties. You get a job and the guards can always keep on eye on you. Thus, even with little to no money to your name, you settled into your new life in this world.

It's been more than a year since your transmigration and to be honest..... You were sick of this place. Remember the aforementioned win-win situation? Yeah, that was only in the beginning. As time went on and your suspicion has pretty much been cleared up, you were still stuck with doing this minimum wage job (if that was even a concept in this world). Just because you were getting by with this job doesn't mean you were happy with it. You only had enough for daily necessities. It's already been a long time since you've arrived here and you had not once enjoyed any type of indulgence in that time gap. Just work, work, work. Those damned guards keep saying you still need to be under surveillance but you knew well that they were just trying to keep you around to do their bidding. Honestly, what kind of guard lets a potential fugitive into their room to get something for them? You knew they trusted you. That's why they wanted you to stay as their little helper.

So here you are now. In the middle of the night, on your way back to headquarters after helping deliver a package to the biggest temple in the country, the Temple of Sonnet. This world, or at least Ebreau in particular, was a country of strong faith. They are a religious country where every citizen worshiped Calerus. Though his title may vary from person to person, it’s always some form of wealth and gold so most people call him the God of Prosperity.

With religion being such as important part of the kingdom, it wasn't surprising when you found out the temple worked in close relation with the imperial palace. The Royal family of Ebreau collaborated with the Temple of Sonnet in both political and cultural aspect. Organising nationwide celebrations, meeting with diplomats from afar, anything that are related to the affairs of the country, chances are both parties are involved. Basically, you mess with the temple, you mess with the Royal family. So definitely not someplace you like hanging about at, lest you want to accidentally offend someone and get a ticket straight to getting-your-head-chopped-off town.

The cold breeze of the night sent shivers down your spine as it blew into your thin clothing. You rubbed your hands together, desperately trying to warm them up but to no avail. You scurried through the courtyard quickly, making your way back to the entrance of the temple. It was relatively silent, saved for your footsteps and the distant sound of flowing water from a fountain somewhere.

Thankfully, the walk was a short one. Reaching the opened gate of the entrance, you walked past the two statues of Calerus at each side of the gate and out back onto the familiar cobble walkway. You snuck a few glances at the white statues of the god of this kingdom as you passed by.

Even in the dim moonlight, you could see the white marble eyes of the statue staring down at you, its mouth curved downward as both hands were outstretched to the side with white round discs made to look like gold coins pouring out of its hands and onto the base of the statue.

This was how the people of Ebreau depicted their God. Sharp eyes casted downwards, overseeing and observing their every move, his hands overflowing with gold, symbolising his absolute authority over the wealth in the land.

You stood, staring at the statue as you were reminded of the saying of the people.

Calerus, the prosperous.

Calerus, the strategist.

Calerus, the omnipresent.

Calerus, the all knowing.

Calerus, the god of Ebreau.

"All is within his hand. Follow his plan and golden rain shall pour at your journey's end."

...

"Tch."

You clicked your tongue as you turned away abruptly from the statue and continued on your way back. A look of disdain plastered on your face as you marched off from the temple.

The more you thought about how worshiped Calerus was and how many praises the people sang for him, the more angry you got. You weren't jealous. No, you weren't some narcissist with a god complex who wanted this sort of treatment. Of course not. What you were pissed about was how Ebreauans talk about how everything in life was Calerus' work. His plan, so to speak that allowed you to prosper and succeed. They claim that all challenges are obstacles on a path towards prosperity that Calerus has specifically chosen for someone.

"Everything has a purpose and meaning."

Well, personally, you though it was pretty nonsense.

If this god of theirs was so smart and crafty, if everything truly happened according to his plan then why the heck were you here? Why were you here in this fantasty world? What purpose did He bring you here for? And why has that "purpose" not shown itself even after you've been thrown here for almost 2 years?!?!

In your mind, Calerus is nothing but a liar and a fraud. Where's the prosperity He promised? What did He have planned? Did He even have anything planned??

You were angry and with good reasons. The people you've met here have been telling you that Calerus has something planned for you even if you're not from Ebreau since day one. They assured you that He will look over you, even if you're not a follower. Yet, you've been met with nothing but problems and hardships during your stay here. And worse, you don't see it ever becoming better.

"What a scam."

You mumbled under your breath and scoffed.

"Ugh..Huh?"

You groaned softly as you suddenly felt lightheaded. You legs got weak and you began to wobble, stumbling forward a few steps. You pressed your hand to you head, applying pressure to both of your temples. Nausea seizes your body as you gagged.

"Huhg..!"

The world spun around you and the ground below your feet felt like it disappeared as you lost your footing. You fell forward and braced for impact.

But it never came.

...?

You slowly regain control as the short-lived dizziness subsides. The disorientation passes and you now realised the odd position you're in. You're...Floating? Your face was hovering several inches away from the ground despite your hands not supporting your upper body. And when did the streets of Ebreau get so....White and fluffy? In fact, they looked like cloud-

"Heretic."

A deep voice suddenly rumbled in your ears and your head shot up. A man with shoulder length grey hair stood before you, his golden eyes piercing into your soul as he spoke with authority. He donned black robes that exposed only his left arm and part of his chest. Golden streaks also lined themselves along the right sleeves and tails of the robe. He seemed.... Ethereal. Godly even.

Wait....Godly?

"C-calerus?”

You stuttered in fear and disbelief.

“One did not expect to be recognised by thou so quickly. Peculiar for a non believer."

Calerus suddenly lifted his right hand and flicked two of his fingers upwards. That's when you felt a force tugged you up from behind and you hung in midair in front of the god.

"Uwah!" You yelped at the sudden yank. Before you could even recompose yourself, Calerus continued speaking again.

"And to not posses any ounce of humility. Calling one by mine name. Who does thou think thou art?"

You felt a force wrap itself around your neck before squeezing. You gasped and grasped at the invisible force, desperate for it to let go or at least loosen. You choked.

"cough! Stop! P-cough!"

You pleaded as you gasped for air.

"Why would one do that?"

You continued to cough as the force squeezed tighter. You were gonna die. Oh god, you were gonna die. In panic, you blurted out whatever came to mind.

"Because, cough, you still, gasp, owe me!!"

The grip around your neck disappeared and you fell onto the soft ground (if it even was ground). You gasped and coughed. Your lungs greedily sucking in air now that your airways were opened again. That relief was short-lived however as the next moment, you felt a hand grabbed onto your jaw and forced your gaze up.

Calerus stared coldly into your eyes as he spoke.

"Elaborate."

You panicked. You just said that on a whim. Surely, you weren't actually going to ask for compensation from a god....right? There was no way you were going to pull though with what you just said.

The fire inside Calerus' golden eyes told you to do so otherwise, though. You swallowed before slowly speaking.

"You....You brought me here. Why? Why separate me from my family? Why separate me from my friends?"

Calerus raised an eyebrow.

"Bring thou here? To punish thee, of course. Thou spoke ill of mine name."

You shook your head.

"No. I meant, bring me to this world. To Ebreau. What reason do you have?"

Calerus fell silent. He seemed to be lost in thought. You waited agonisingly long before he spoke.

"So it is thou. Thou art the otherworldly traveler, yes?"

Otherworldly? Yes. Traveler? No. Kidnapping victim would be more accurate. Though, you simply nod at his question. It was close enough, you suppose.

He released you jaw and backed away. His gaze blank and devoid of emotion as he raised his hand again. You felt a soft tug this time and you were gently helped up onto your feet.

It..Worked?

Calerus sighed before saying,"It would indeed seem one has forgotten about thy needs after thou came to mine kingdom."

Your eyes widen in surprise at his confession

"One will give thee the compensation thou deserves."

"Wait, really?" You couldn't hold back your astonishment.

Calerus stayed quiet as you asked and you felt cold sweat rolled down your face, thinking your question may have angered him.

His gaze went down onto the ground for a brief moment before flicking back up to you.

"Yes. However, know that one was not the being that brought thee to this land."

You tilted your head. "You're not?"

"No. One merely accepted thy visit to mine kingdom."

"Then...Who did?" You asked, the words rolling off your tongue slowly

"Mine....Equal. A ruler of another land far from mine."

Your head was spinning from this revelation. Some other god brought you here? Why? And why let you stay under another god's rule? Before you could ask, Calerus had began to speak again.

"One is not enlightened with the reason why thou has been brought here but one admits fault for neglecting thee after accepting thee as one's own. As such..."

Calerus stepped forward, his steps firm and steady. He raised his right hand to his mouth before biting his index finger. A small wound appeared on his skin and you saw golden blood begin to seep out from the opening. He stretched out his right arm as he made his way towards you.

"W-what are you doing?" You fumbled over your words as you backed away in horror, clutching your hands over your chest.

But Calerus was faster.

In the blink of an eye, he was already in front of you, finger pressing on your forehead. You felt the warm liquid dripping down your forehead as your eyes opened wide in fear, terrified at what he was going to do to you.

He began to chant.

"Might of the northern spirit, wisdom of the southern dragon, divinity of the elements of the east and west, hear one."

You wanted to pull away from his hand but be it fear or some other unknown force, you couldn't as you stayed rooted in place, breathing heavily from anxiety. If the god before you noticed your petrified state, he surely paid it no mind as he continued.

"Let the earth know that the power of gold shall have a vessel to call its own. Let the people rejoice for a vassal of Calerus, the Prosperous Lord shall walk among them. May the world celebrate the birth of mine lamb."

His finger left your forehead for a split second before it came back, colliding with your forehead as he flicked his finger against it. A surge of power shot into your head from his fingertip and spread throughout your body. The sheer magnitude of the force made you almost black out as your vision clouded with dark spots. As if you also suddenly got punched, you were propelled backwards, stumbling and struggling to catch yourself.

You felt yourself stepping on air and lost your balance, falling backwards. The ground(clouds?) had disappeared behind you, opening a small hole that let you fall through. You reached out your hand in a desperate attempt to hold onto something but to no avail.

You fell. Down and down until you could see that the "ground" you were standing on was indeed clouds in the sky. The sky. Calerus peeked his head over the edge, observing you as you fell with the same stoic look on his face. Just before he went out of hearing range, you heard him speak.

"One will be in touch."

He disappeared from view.

Now, back to the present, you were falling to your death, screaming and crying as you begged Calerus for mercy. Where's the compensation?! Was everything just now a trick?! Did you get scammed again?!

Tears rolled out of your eyes and flew into the air as you cried in fear, leaving behind trails of water droplets following your descend.

You sobbed as realisation kicked in that nobody was going to save you, as hopelessness consumed you to the point of not being able to think anymore.

The ground got closer and closer as the seconds ticked by. You closed your eyes which were still overflowing with tears, submitting to your faith and praying the impact will immediately kill you so you won't have to suffer in pain.

Goodbye.

"Ugh!"

You groaned as the impact came. Your back collided with the ground and you were....OK? You were in some pain but nothing too bad. In fact, the pain was already passing now.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and blinked away the tears still trapped inside. It was daytime already. How much time has passed? You looked around and saw petals of different hues falling down before landing on the dirt beside you. Above you, a tree with yellow leaves swayed gently, its branches lightly bouncing up and down while its yellow leaves, detached from their place on the branch, fell softly down and landed on your face. It seemed you fell through the tree just now. That would explain the tears on the hem of your sleeves.

Aurum trees?

Propping yourself up into a sitting position, you stared up as you wondered. While not rare or particularly hard to care for, aurum trees are only planted within temples of Ebreau due its yellow leaves. They are the only type of trees in Ebreau that grew leaves of that shade of yellow. A yellow similar to gold while not being being fully golden coloured. The colour yellow symbolises wealth in Ebreau and thus, indirectly their god, Calerus. They are a symbol of the divine hence why aurum trees are only grown in temples.

Then, that raises the question. Why were you at a temple?

You lowered your gaze from the tree and you nearly gasped from the scene in front of you. You were sitting in the middle of a flowerbed that consisted of various types of flowers with different hues for each one. Not far from you, rows of nuns and monks knelt in an orderly matter, faces all shocked and astonished. Some had their hands clasped together while some were covering their, what you assume to be, gaping mouths. Hushed whispers erupted as they stared and observed you. You even made eye contact with some of the nuns and monks in which all turned away immediately with flushed cheeks.

What's going on? Did you intrude on something? Oh no....

Before your thoughts could spiral any further, a tall shadow suddenly loomed over you. Your head snapped upwards as you met eyes with the figure, a man dressed in white robes with golden embellishments around the collar and hem of the sleeves. His eyes were purple, like amethysts. Under the sunlight, his long blonde hair seemed glossy, shiny even as it draped over his shoulders while he towered over you. Despite his intimidating stance, a soft smile was present on his face as the tails of his eyes curved upwards slightly, giving the impression of a kind and good hearted soul.

The man knelt down, his sleeves fluttering gently due to the breeze. That's when you got a better look at his face. He looked familiar...

It wasn't until that soft and silky voice of his poured out of his mouth when you realised who he was.

"Hello, Messiah. We've been expecting your arrival." He placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head at you. "I am Saint Zephyr Venrose. Representing the temple of Sonnet, the esteemed imperial family and the whole of Ebreau, I humbly welcome you." He lifted his head and smiled. Your breath got caught in your throat as he confirmed your suspicions.

Zephyr Venrose. One of the few saints in all of Ebreau and head of the temple of Sonnet. Closely associated with the royals of the kingdom and is a man of power within the boarders of Ebreau. He often gives speeches given his position as head of the biggest temple in the country during festive events. That's where you've heard his voice the couple of times you were passing by or, if you were in a good mood, listening to him talk. You've never been able to get a good look at his face since you were always pushed back by the crowd so you didn't recognise him at first glance. However, now with his face inches away from yours, you could see every last detail of his features and you must admit, you understood why the folks liked him so much.

Zephyr must surely be blessed in his appearance.

You froze in place as you stared in surprise at him, wondering why he was talking to you and processing his words.

Did he just call you Messiah?

Zephyr noticed your silence and your staring. He adverted his eyes as his gaze dropped down towards the ground while he smiled to himself.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion at the sight.

Zephyr coughed lightly before his arms reached towards you. You gasped as he suddenly picked you up bridal style from the flowerbed. Not used to being held like this, you gripped onto his robe for support. Your face contorted in worry and anxiety as you looked at the ground, afraid of being dropped.

Zephyr, of course, took notice of your panic and in response, tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer to him. As you felt his fingers pressing into your skin more tightly, you looked up at him, surprised he realised your concerns so quickly.

He smiled warmly at you as he leaned down, closing the gap between your faces even more. His blonde hair brushing and tickling your face as he whispered into your ear. "Don't be afraid, Miss Messiah. I will never let you fall." His hot breath hit your earlobe and you felt your heart skipped a beat. He pulled away before walking with you in his arms towards the rows of nuns and monks.

"Rejoice, my brothers and sisters for our Savior has come. Our God has delivered us our salvation. May glory be with his name for all eternity."

Zephyr announced loudly and his words were met with echoes of response from the other devotees.

"May he reign supreme!"

Your head felt like it was going to explode with all this information. Was this....Was this the compensation Calerus meant? To be his hands and eyes as you walk along the common folks? To be loved and praised like how he is? To be worshiped? You felt dizzy from being bombarded by this revelation.

You looked back up at Zephyr, hoping he could shed some more light on this predicament you found yourself in. However, you swallowed your words the moment you looked into his purple irises.

Zephyr was known for his gentle and endearing nature. Some say he's the embodiment of kindness. He's the type of person people can't help but be drawn towards due to the sense of security he gives and the tranquil aura he possesses. That was your initial impression of him too.

But looking at him now, you wondered if you were wrong.

With the closeness between you two, you could see the the subtle shade of pink on his cheeks and the flushing redness at the tip of his ears. His breathing fanned your face and you noticed how quick and shallow his breaths were. His fingers went from pressing firmly into your skin to digging themselves into your thighs and waist. Then, if you looked hard enough, you could see him swallowing occasionally.

And last but not least, you couldn't help but notice his eyes that had always been filled with warmth and tenderness seemed....

Crazed.

~✟~

A prologue/world building chapter for my future yandere stories taking place in this universe. If you spot any mistakes, please do point them out so I can correct them and give everyone the best reading experience! Especially with Calerus' old English(?) part, I'm still not sure when to use thee and when to use thou. I only did some basic research on Google.(T_T)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere stories #transmigration #fantasy #isekai #yandere saint #male yandere #female reader #yancore #yandere obsession

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miquella-everywhere · 3 months

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Rating the Demigods based off their Homes

Technically Leyndell is not Morgotts house but his moms, which he inherited after escaping the sewers she threw him into, but he also runs the place like the navy runs a ship, so everything is in perfect working order. Nobody has any clue who he is and I appreciate his commitment to the bit. 8/10 really cool scenery but could definitely use some dusting and giant dragon corpse removal.

The Moghwyn Dynasty is every health inspectors worst nightmare. General unsanitary setting and blood swamps, Albinaurics captured and forced to assimilate against their will, along with several war medics, and also Mohg has the body of his shriveled up half-brother in his freezer. But overall the ancient civilization that lived here before Mohg had pretty okay taste, especially since they built their city under an underground starry sky. 10/10 but only because the health inspector died and Mohg forged the health report.

Godrick snuck in after his failings at the Shattering and just straight up claimed the place as his own, so Stormveil technically isn't even his house. Also his presence alone is so rank that thorns have started festering outside of the castle. 8/10 to the Stormlords cause they've got sick sense of style, but 2/10 to Godrick because he is a literal home invader.

Radahn does not give two shits about architecture, he clearly made Redmane based off of every other fort in the Lands Between and chose function over fashion, which is fair I guess, but also kinda boring. At least he strung up the all of the swords in Redmane and gave it some flaire. 4/10 because Redmane is so basic, plus minus 1 point for the tetanus hazard.

Raya Lucaria had an architecture course as an elective and Rykard committed himself to his GPA and developed his own aesthetic. He graduated top of his class and Rennala baked a cake for him. Best day of his life. Then he went up to Mt. Gelmir and was like, "I should totally make this place my house," and then he did because nobody had the balls to stop him. 10/10 for his commitment to the blasphemy aesthetic. And props to Tannith for doing a great job keeping the foyer the cleanest place in the Lands Between, but also 1/10 for the backyard being a general crime against humanity.

Ranni follows the rule of, "if it aint broke dont fix it," which is exactly why she broke everything else in the world and then returned to her childhood home after the Shattering. Caria could definitely use some bedrooms though because where the heck does everyone sleep?? Or do anything else for that matter???? Caria: Bathroom? Never heard of it. 6/10 because the sparkly magic bits in the air are super cool but Caria Manor definitely should've been a legacy dungeon.

Miquella attended both Leyndell and Raya Lucaria architecture classes, excelling over everyone and beating Rykards score in the final exam by exactly one point, and yet has no idea why Rykard is so pissed at him. Then after disowning his dad he had the great idea to try and build a treehouse but grew his own tree first because he's an over achiever and has gifted kid syndrome. 10/10 because the aesthetic is elegant and immaculate, and everyone who has depression is trying to get there for free therapy.

Malenia went to architecture school with Miquella because she had nothing better to do and slept through every class. The most she did there was break up Miquella and Rykards final exam squabble and also couldn't care less about architecture because she's fuckin blind. Rates the Haligtree architecture 10/10 because even though she's blind, she's sure that Miquellas sense of style is very pretty. But also rates it a 2/10 because Miquella keeps stubbing his toes and tripping on the carved stone flooring even though he insists everything is fine.

The Land of Shadow is less of Messmers house and more of his eternal timeout corner. He temper-tantrumed too hard one day and Marika put him there then completely forgot he ever existed. -10/10 because the parental abandonment is so real

#shitpost #elden ring #godrick the grafted #starscourge radahn #miquella the unalloyed #ranni the witch #rykard lord of blasphemy #malenia blade of miquella #mohg lord of blood #morgott the omen king #uri posts

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superhaught · 3 months

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Gym Class Heroes

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: head injury, blood, homophobia

Word Count: 1600, Part 1/?

Part Two

Anonymous asked: Hey hun, sup? can i make a lil' request? i'd like to ask for a Regina George x Reader (reader is afab but kinda androgynous) where a fight breaks out at gym class and Regina steps in breaking out the fight because she gets really protective of reader (even though they never spoke before that day but both have like this unspoken attraction to one another) and takes care of reader's injuries? might lead to kissing. it's fluff with a bit of angst mixed in pls? Thanks a lot!!!!

It was your least favorite part of the day: gym class.

You hated it. Hated it.

Not that you didn’t like being active or didn’t enjoy learning about exercise and the human body and nutrition, that was all fine.

You hated the locker room. You hated the jocks. You hated getting sweaty and smelly halfway through your school day. You hated the stench of the gym and the feel of the rubber floors. You hated fitness tests. And you didn’t particularly enjoy Coach Carr.

But… It wasn't all bad.

There was always Regina.

At first, you were terrified to have gym with her. You were certain that she would find ways to make you feel self-conscious the entire semester, not necessarily intentionally, that was just her way. But, that didn’t end up being the case.

You still never spoke to her, but every once in a while, you caught her glancing at you. In the locker room as you changed into your cutoff shirts, when you were running laps or doing sit ups, even when you were just taking notes, you could feel her eyes on you.

You would look, and she would look away, and you’d get all flustered by her cropped tank tops and high-waisted leggings, then you’d look away again, trying to hide your reddened cheeks.

You had to be delusional, though. There was no way that Regina George was actually crushing on you. You had to be making it up.

Thank goodness for small miracles. It was Friday and when you entered the gym, Coach Carr yelled out that it would just be a free gym day. No particular lesson or game to worry about, everyone could just pick an activity and do what they wanted as long as they were being active. You breathed a sigh of relief and went to go grab a basketball.

You posted up at one of the hoops with a few others who were just going to practice taking shots quietly. You put your earbuds in and started playing music on your phone and began to just blissfully zone out. You took turns with your peers practicing layups and free throws while sneaking glances across the gym at Regina who was lobbing a volleyball back and forth with Gretchen. You couldn't help but notice how good she looked.

You didn’t notice Coach Carr leaving the gym to take his daily smoke break.

You didn’t notice Shane Ohman and his buddies approaching you.

You didn’t notice them hollering insults at you, not until it was too late.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, you fucking dyke!”

Shane chucked his basketball through the air at full force and it smacked into your temple. You saw stars and went straight to the ground, feeling the sting of the skin of your eyebrow splitting and the warm wetness of fresh blood pouring down the side of your face from the wound.

One of Shane’s friends said, “ohhh shiiit.”

“That’s what you get for fucking checking out my girls’ ass, you lesbo!” Shane shouted.

The group of guys were only egging him on, and as far as you knew, everyone else was stunned into silence. You vaguely saw the shape of Shane hovering over you before a flash of blonde ponytail entered your vision.

“Your girl!? Now I know you better not be talking about me you fucking piece of shit. I dumped your smarmy ass so what fucking business do you have coming to my defense against someone who’s half your size? Get the fuck out of here before I get your dad and Principal Duvall in the same room and tell them you committed a hate crime and get your athletic scholarship flushed down the toilet or worse!”

You heard the sounds of feet quickly sprinting away on the gym floor and then saw the blonde crouch down beside you through your good eye.

“That looks bad,” she winced, lightly touching your shoulder. She turned her head to speak to someone else, “Gretchen, go get Coach Carr and tell him what happened, yeah? We’re going straight to the nurses’ office.”

Before you could process, Regina was helping you stand up and was acting as a crutch for you. She helped you make your way out of the gym through the locker room. She stopped for a moment to grab a clean towel and pressed it against the wound on your head and the pressure made you feel faint.

“Fuck I need to sit…” you gasped.

“Okay, okay,” she quickly guided you down to a bench and sat beside you, still holding the towel to your head, “There you go, take it easy.”

You peered at her as she slowly came into focus.

“Regina, why are you helping me?”

“Why not?”

“Well… because you’re you?”

The corner of her mouth raised into a little smirk, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t take you for the helping kind.”

“How about you worry less about talking and more about staying conscious. Do you think you can walk with me to the nurse?”

You made a solid effort to stand back up but you immediately felt lightheaded and plopped back down, shaking your head lightly.

“Alright, we’ll stay here then.” Regina looked around the locker room and located a first aid kit on the wall, “okay, I need you to lie down slowly on the bench, slowly, and hold the towel, I’m gonna get the first aid kit just hang in there.”

You replaced her hand on the towel with yours and held it against your head as you lied down and she got up. She came back a second later holding the first aid kit.

Regina carefully peeled the towel away and winced along with you, “okay, I’m not a doctor obviously but I don’t think you need stitches? You probably have a concussion, though, so I think you should go to a doctor or something but I don’t want to move you for now.”

She started fussing with things in the first aid kit and explained, “I’m just going to clean the cut and bandage it up for the time being, okay? It looks like it’s not bleeding anymore so that’s good.”

You nodded and watched her, “you’re surprisingly caring…”

“What did I say about talking?”

You snapped your mouth closed.

“Little sting,” Regina covered your eyelid with her hand and sprayed antiseptic solution onto the wound then gently wiped it with gauze.

“How do you even bandage an eyebrow?” She muttered.

“The butterfly ones, or the strip-type bandages to pull the edges together, and then gauze over it.” You offer.

“Huh, okay.”

Regina took her time finding the right things and carefully tending to you.

“Do you think I’m going to have a scar?”

“Maybe. Probably,” Regina answered, “it’ll look cool if you do. Very rugged.”

“Stupid story behind it…”

“I’m going to have Shane roasted on a spit for doing this to you, I promise you that.”

“Oh jeez, Regina. You don’t have to do that.”

“Did it sound like I was asking?”

You swallowed and tested sitting up slowly after she finished bandaging you up.

“Slow, slow…” she commanded, holding onto your upper arms.

You nodded and came to an upright position without feeling faint, “I already feel a lot better. Thanks, Regina.”

“I still think you need to leave school and go to the doctor to get checked for a concussion. You don’t need an ambulance or anything like that, probably. We can call your parents or honestly I can drive you if your parents are working…”

“Oh… that’s really nice of you. I’ll call my mom and see what she thinks.”

She nodded and checked your bandages again. She was fussing over you in a weirdly concerned, maternal way.

“Regina?”

“Hmm?”

“How come no one sees this side of you?”

She raised an eyebrow, “most people don’t earn this side of me.”

“But I do?”

“Sure.”

You didn’t really have a good response to that so you just stayed quiet while Regina got up and got you some water and then texted Gretchen updates.

“Gretchen will bring Coach Carr in here in a sec to check in, is that okay?”

You nodded.

Regina examined you again, “can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?”

“Were you actually checking out my ass earlier?”

Your face flushed like crazy, “wh-what?”

“Shane said you were checking out my ass. Were you?”

You just stared at her.

“You can be honest, I won’t be upset either way.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, “yes. I was. You look incredible in those leggings.”

Regina smiled, “good. I mean, not good that you took a basketball to the face for it, but good that you were checking me out.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No. Why would I be upset?“

“Because… I dunno, I guess because I’m no better than a gross guy?”

Regina rolled her eyes, “no. Trust me, it’s a compliment from you.”

Coach Carr came into the girls locker room while unnecessarily covering his eyes and quickly checked in with you, saying, “alright chief, we already called your mom and she’s on her way to pick you up, okay? We’ll get you to the front office to wait. After that, Regina, Gretchen wants you to come with her to Principal Duvall’s office to tell him what you saw happen, k?”

Regina nodded.

“Go team,” he added before ducking back out.

Regina looked at you, “Did he just call you chief?”

You shrugged, “I guess so.”

You both laughed and Regina walked you to the front of the school to wait for your mom. She waved at you as you got into your mom’s van and you watched as the blonde turned and angrily stormed in the direction of the principal’s office, now on a new mission.

Next Chapter

#regina george #regina george x reader #regina george fanfic #regina george fanfiction #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp regina george #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #writing request #anonymous request #regina george fluff

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venus-haze · 10 months

Text

Lay All Your Love on Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: A communication breakdown has unintended consequences, but it’s all because Homelander loves you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on a request from @judyfromfinance and the ABBA song which is so Homelander coded. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Jealousy, possessive behavior, violence (not toward the reader). We love miscommunication for plot reasons here! Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander had no reason to believe you were hiding from him. Your job kept you busy, and ironically enough, working for the same company didn’t guarantee that you’d see each other nearly as much as he’d like. When his texts went unanswered and he couldn’t so much as hear you during the day, though, his mind went into overdrive presenting him with every worst case scenario it could possibly conceive of.

Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

His gloved hands balled into fists at his side. You would never cheat on him. He knew that. He did. But sometimes, it seemed like your heart didn’t ache for him the way his did for yours. You had a life outside of him, and as much as you tried to include him in it, he resisted. Things would be easier if it were just the two of you.

Trying your phone again, he called you, frustrated when it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Give me a call back as soon as you can. I love you,” he said, adding a quick. “Call me back" for emphasis.

He groaned, throwing his phone aside and folding his arms over his chest. It was fine. He didn’t care that much anyway. At least that’s what he told himself as he glanced at his discarded phone every few seconds in hopes you’d call or text back. No dice.

As a last resort, he headed to the crime analytics department. You managed a small team of analysts who consulted with the state and federal government on Vought’s behalf. The two of you had met when Vought was trying to get supes in the military, and as far as Homelander was concerned, it was love at first sight.

Never mind that it took a few weeks to win you over, frustratingly committed to your job and hesitant to date a coworker. Even though he’d hardly consider the two of you coworkers. Sure, you both worked for Vought, but that was it as far as he was concerned. In his determination to woo you, he’d made some valuable connections in your department. At least, people who he knew would have some kind of scoop on you when he needed it.

“Hey Annika,” Homelander said, startling the young crime analyst as he approached her desk. “How’re you doing, pal?

“Hi Homelander,” she said, not quite able to keep eye contact with him. “Sir. I’m good. H-How are you?”

“You haven’t seen Y/N around today, have you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Alright,” he said tensely, a painfully fake smile spreading across his face. “Keep up the good work.”

His smile faltered as he heard your name come up in a conversation on the other side of the room. A masculine voice, younger than his, far too much mirth for his liking when he spoke about you.

“Dude, I was in Y/N’s office for like an hour yesterday. I could barely concentrate. They are so fine.”

“You’re insane,” someone else laughed.

“What? Have you seen them?”

“They’re dating Homelander, dumbass.”

“Whatever. It won’t last. He and Maeve will get back together, and yours truly will be there to pick up the pieces.”

“If you say so.”

Homelander hadn’t noticed his eyes glowing red until Annika squeaked. Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he looked at his…acquaintance.

“See you around,” he said, his chipper tone clearly strained.

Since you weren’t answering your phone and he still had no clue where you were, Homelander had all the time in the world to wait around for your sleazy subordinate to take a bathroom break. He wondered if you were aware of the man’s interest in you. It was a possibility, but he had to assure himself that you wouldn’t do anything to encourage it. He knew you wouldn’t bother with a miscreant like that, of all people, but the point needed to be made. No one could speak so vulgarly about you and expect him not to do something about it.

Fifteen minutes or so had passed, and Homelander spotted his name badge. Josh.

“Hey Josh! You have a minute, buddy?” Homelander asked, voice booming through the hallway, causing Josh to flinch. Homelander smirked a bit.

“Homelander! Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, actually, I just have a question about the crime analytics office.”

Josh nodded. “Sure, anything.”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there?”

“Wh-What?”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there? Maybe a keg and some drunk idiots wearing togas?”

“I don’t—“

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Then why were you in there talking about my partner like you were in a fucking frat house?” Homelander asked, cornering the slimy analyst. “You know Y/N and I are dating, right? Your idiot friend told you as much.”

Josh’s mouth flopped open and closed like one of the disgusting fish The Deep crusaded for. “I—I didn’t mean—“

“So either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish. Which one is it, buddy?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Homelander.”

Homelander chuckled, empty and hollow, reveling in the way he could practically smell the fear radiating off of the man in front of him. “You will be.”

With the way Josh was carrying on, Homelander would’ve thought he’d actually killed the guy. All he’d done was snap his arm and throw an elbow to his nose. He’d just bought the asshole a free rhinoplasty, far more generous than he deserved after what he did.

Homelander sneered at the blubbering crime analyst, work shirt covered in his own blood. Pathetic, really. And he had the audacity to act like he was worthy of you. Throwing one final glare Josh’s way, Homelander walked off, wiping the blood off his gloves and onto his suit. It could be dry-cleaned out.

The outburst made him feel better than he had all day, though it didn’t answer the question of where the hell you were and why you weren’t answering him. Besides, he swore he heard the familiar sound of your footfall in the lobby.

He supposed you wouldn’t be too happy if you came back to see one of your subordinates brutalized in the hallway. Just his luck, he spotted an intern in one of the unoccupied offices.

“Hey,” Homelander said, pausing a moment to read the intern’s badge, “Sammy, there’s a mess over by the crime analytics office, can you get someone to clean it up?”

“Sure,” Sammy responded cheerfully.

“Thanks, it’s the little things that make this place run. You’re doing great,” he complimented, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Sammy returned his smile, obviously not questioning his sincerity. Homelander knew if he framed the whole thing as a favor, she’d be more likely to follow through. It was always good to have reliable people in his back pocket for things like that, worker bees who thought they were friends or something. She walked off, strides purposeful as she set off to complete her personal mission from Homelander.

Rushing over to the elevator, he listened for you, getting out on the fifteenth floor where he saw you just as you walked out of the bathroom.

As soon as he made eye contact, he melted, making a beeline for you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around Homelander. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Where were you?” he asked, almost painfully returning your embrace.

“I told you I was presenting for the security council at the UN all day. No phones, remember?”

He huffed, releasing you from the hug. Fuck. “I guess—maybe that rings a bell. You shouldn’t tell me something so important while I’m distracted.”

“How much did you miss me?” you teased, holding up your pointer finger and thumb to pinch the air. “This much?” You spread your fingers wider. “This much?” Wider again, except before you could ask, Homelander scooped you up in his arms.

“Why don’t I show you?”

“Please do,” you said, tilting your head up to kiss him.

He retreated into the elevator with you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss laced with longing. You giggled at him. You’d only been gone for a few hours, yet he was acting as though it had been days.

You missed him too, resolving to focus your attention on him for the rest of the night.

Until your phone rang.

“I should get this.”

“Now you’re able to pick up a call?” he grumbled, setting you down.

“One minute,” you whispered, grabbing your phone, “then I’m all yours.”

He pressed the button to his suite, having forgotten to do so in the heat of passion. “You better be.”

You picked up your phone, amused at Homelander still clinging to you, kissing your neck. “Hello?”

“Josh from crime analytics?” you asked, tensing a bit when Homelander grazed his teeth on the crook of your neck. “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me the homicide report yesterday.”

Homelander hummed against your skin, and you let out a whimper only he could hear at the way it vibrated through you. He was smug, and it took you a moment to piece together why.

“Okay, talk to you tomorrow,” you said before hanging up. “What did you do?”

“Something chivalrous to defend your honor,” he mumbled, his lips unrelenting on your shoulder as he pulled your shirt down to expose it.

“I guess I should thank you properly, then? My knight in shining armor?”

He lifted his head, grinning, “If you insist.”

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys x reader #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys #homelander

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deakyjoe · 7 months

Text

Every Breath You Take

Pairing: Michael Myers x Reader (afab but no pronouns used I don’t think)

Category: stalker romance (??), smut (!!)

Summary: It shouldn’t exhilarate you so much knowing a serial killer was stalking you. But you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), vaginal fingering, dry humping, biting, licking, creampie, overstimulation, motorboating, pain as pleasure, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, choking, scent kink, multiple orgasms, nipple play, over the clothes handjob, under the clothes handjob, slight dubcon (only because Michael doesn’t talk but I tried to make it as clear as possible that they just want to fuck each other), stalking, mentions of injuries and blood, mentions of murder, breaking and entering, morally questionable reader, mask is on and off, lights stay off during sex, virgin Michael, a little dark I guess (??)

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: For those who love masked men (aka me). For those who want to fuck slashers (aka me). For those who love the quiet type (aka me). For those who love a tall man (aka me). For those who love a strong man (aka me). I wrote this for me basically. I don’t think there’s much of an audience for Michael Myers fics within my followers but hopefully it reaches the right side of Tumblr :)

Consider buying me a coffee :)

It was probably disgusting how much it excited you knowing he watched you every day.

He'd stand in your back yard each night, totally still, and just look through your windows for hours. And then, when he was satisfied you assumed, he'd leave. But he always came right back the next day at the same time.

When you'd first noticed him, you'd been terrified. Naturally. You knew exactly who he was, you watched the news and heard stories. And the white mask and blue coveralls were unmistakable. You'd seen him through your window and locked all of the doors immediately. Then you waited. Patiently.

You didn't know what you were waiting for. Him to kill you... or to defend yourself. Your chances of survival were slim, he was inhumanly strong from what you'd heard. But you clutched a knife in your hand nonetheless, mirroring him in a strange way, in case you did suddenly have to fight him off.

Luckily, it never came down to that dilemma as he left a couple of hours later without even a step closer to your back door. You blinked and he was gone.

He came back the next night and did the same thing. And then the next night. And the next. And the next. Until it became a ritual.

You went about your evening and he watched. You always wondered whether he watched you during the day as well but you'd never noticed him. You also wondered what it was about you that didn't make him murder you straight away.

You were older than his usual victims, sure. And he supposedly liked to commit most of his crimes whilst his victims were in the middle of sexual acts and you didn't tend to have many visitors over. But then what was making him fixate on you?

You just couldn't figure it out.

It got to a point where you were less scared of him and more intrigued. Having him stand and stare was getting boring, you wanted to know why. No. You craved knowing why. But you couldn't ask him. You'd heard he wasn't fond of talking.

So what were you supposed to do? Just let it carry on? That was your only choice.

But things changed one evening.

When he appeared something didn't seem quite right. For one, he was seven minutes later than usual. And his left shoulder slumped forward with all of his weight placed onto his right leg.

He was injured.

And you couldn't help but feel bad for him.

So, like an insane person, you unlocked your door and opened it for him.

As you stood in the doorway staring at him, you noticed him straighten up. As if he were surprised. But you knew the man didn't show emotions, much less any that would display him being caught off guard in any way. So you put it down as your imagination or a trick of the moonlight.

But you left your door open. An invitation. Like he needed one of those.

He didn't move so you left the doorway and went to retrieve your first aid kit from the cabinet above the sink. And by the time you'd found it and turned back around, Michael Myers was standing about a foot into your kitchen.

You stared at him for a second, unsure of the emotions turning in your stomach. "Close the door. It's cold outside."

You really didn't know if you could afford to be giving him orders but considering he hadn't murdered you in the months he'd been watching you, you thought that you were probably safe until you'd at least bandaged up whatever wounds hid beneath the blue jumpsuit.

Not sticking around to see if he did it, you walked to your lounge and put a lamp on. His footsteps were silent so you kept an eye on the archway where he'd emerge from the kitchen. Which he did a few seconds later.

"Sit on the couch."

Surprisingly, he did as he was told. But you thought you might be pushing your luck so you stopped telling him to do things.

As he sat down, not relaxed in the slightest with the best posture you'd ever seen, you realised that getting a wounded man to sit on your nice furniture was probably a bad idea. What if he got blood everywhere? Too late now. You weren't going to ask him to move.

You moved towards him slowly, trying not to spook him. He still had a knife clutched in his hand after all. It was bloodstained. You ignored it.

Michael watched you closely, his head didn't move but you could feel his gaze through the dark eyeholes of the mask. It didn't escape your notice that he was still extremely tall even when sat down.

"What's hurt?"

It was a stupid question, you could see where blood was seeping through his clothes and the slashes in the fabric was clear. But given your very recent history of poor choices, an obvious question seemed like the least of your worries.

He didn't respond anyway. No finger point, no head tilt, no shrug. Not a single inch of his body moved apart from his chest from his breathing. If you couldn't see his inhales and exhales then you'd think he was some sort of dummy or mannequin.

"Have you got a shirt on underneath the jumpsuit?"

Why were you still asking questions?

He still said nothing, which you expected, but he did raise a hand to pop the first couple buttons open to reveal a grey t-shirt under the blue coveralls.

You sighed and nodded. "Um, you're going to need to- to undo a few more buttons. So I can get to your shoulder."

The blood stain was getting bigger and staining his clothes a deep purple.

He tilted his head to the side at you, the most emotion he'd shown so far. But he did as he was told again and then pushed the suit down his arms so it lowered to his waist. You didn't fail to notice how the grey t-shirt clung to him nicely, maybe a size or two too small, and displayed every inch of rippling muscle that covered him. Explained his inhuman strength.

You took a few supplies from the kit and started cleaning up the injury on his shoulder, careful to avoid staring at how his sleeve stretched against his bicep.

When you noticed him staring at you from the corner of your eye, you cleared your throat and pulled away again to distract yourself with looking for other injuries. Which was a fine idea until you realised that blood was dripping from beneath the rubber that adorned his face.

You went to lift the edge of the mask, no intention of taking it off, but his large hands gripped your wrists before you even had the chance. The knife was suddenly forgotten on the cushion of the couch.

You gasped in pain, his hold was tight, but didn't pull away. Trying your hardest to meet his eyes as best you could, you attempted to explain. "I'm not going to take it off but I need to get to your neck. You're bleeding. Lift the mask to your chin and hold it there so I can clean your neck."

There were a few tense moments of heavy breathing from him before he let go and did as you said. He was too agreeable, very out of character from all of the stories you'd heard about him. Were people wrong? Or was he acting differently than usual? How were you supposed to know?

You shook the thoughts from your head and got on with cleaning him up. You couldn't find the source of the blood so assumed it must've been coming from higher up on his face. But you weren't going to ask him to lift the mask anymore. You were a risk taker, if the night was any indication of that, but you didn't have a death wish. Mostly.

"Done." You mumbled and stepped back a few paces, looking down to clean away all of your supplies.

By the time you looked up he was standing again fully clothed.

"You going to kill me now finally?" There was a hint of laughter in your voice. If he did you wouldn't blame him. You probably deserved it after inviting a serial killer into your home and treating him like his own personal nurse.

He didn't respond, just turned and left the room. And by the time you got to the kitchen to follow him out, he was gone and the back door was shut and locked like he'd never even been there.

"See you tomorrow night then." You grumbled to yourself, assuming he'd return as he usually did.

And he did.

Uninjured this time. To your relief and, honestly, slight disappointment. There was really something very wrong with you.

But the routine returned to normal. Michael Myers would appear in your back yard every night at the same time and watch you for hours with no sign of even attempting to enter your house to murder you. And he'd leave when he was done watching whatever he sought out from you.

The initial thrill you'd had knowing he liked watching you had disappeared quickly after you'd realised there was less danger than you'd expected. And the fact that you could get so much closer to him was more exciting than anything else.

The idea of him being inside your house again played on your mind constantly, rolling around in there as regularly as a forbidden fantasy. And maybe it was. But surely you weren't fantasising about Michael Myers... right?

Perhaps the memory of his muscles and his height, just his sheer size even, plagued your brain way more often than was considered normal. The thought that he could probably just snap you in two with his large hands and impossible strength if he chose to, how easy it would be for him to break in and end your life on his will. But he chose not to.

That set your nerves alight.

So you turned your nights into a staring contest.

He'd stand in your back yard and stare into your window. You'd stand in your kitchen and stare out of your window.

And you slowly got more daring. You began to retire to bed earlier, going upstairs to your bedroom and changing right in his direct view. It was one of the few times he moved, tilting his head up slightly to see you better through the mask.

You didn't give him a full show, knowing it probably wasn't what he wanted. He liked to kill "promiscuous" people after all. But it was enough to give him an idea, a way to tease him. It was entertaining for you at least, even if he wasn't bothered.

But then one night when you noticed that he was a few feet closer to your house, you realised it was probably working.

He was tempted.

Whether it was to kill you or to do something else, you weren't sure. But you were exhilarated either way.

When he returned obviously injured again a few nights later, you sighed to yourself in annoyance. Yes, you were excited he'd be in your house again. But out of need, not want. You still unlocked your door and left it open for him as you waited in the lounge nevertheless.

When he emerged from the dark archway between your kitchen and your lounge, you looked him up and down. His stance was better than last time but he was covered in more blood. You deduced that it probably wasn't his.

"Sit." You whispered hoarsely. "Please."

Like manners were going to affect whether he killed you or not.

It went pretty much the same as the time before, cleaning the blood from him as best you could and bandaging up what was easy to access. He didn't flinch or wince, not even at the stuff that made your toes curl just from touching.

It wasn't until you were just finishing off spreading some antibacterial lotion on a gash on his thigh that you noticed he was breathing heavier than usual. You looked up at him and frowned, confused. But when he gave you no indication as to why he was suddenly almost hyperventilating, you shrugged it off and reached for a band-aid. As you glanced towards the wound to get an idea of the size you'd need for it, you realised what was wrong.

"Oh."

He was hard.

"Oh."

The prominent bulge in his crotch wasn't shy in showing you that it was there. He was big, to say at the very least.

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times before you settled on a reassurance. "It's okay. This happens. Especially when someone is touching you a lot."

You figured this was the most he'd been touched in over a decade.

"I'll just uh..." You stood up to step away from him but he launched his arm forward to grab you by the wrist, not letting you go any further.

"Michael..."

He answered you by tugging your body into his lap, legs straddling either side of his thighs. You made sure not to settle your weight onto him, very conscious of what that could lead to.

But he had other ideas.

He planted both of his large hands on either side of your waist and pushed you to sit fully against him. And there was a lot to sit against.

You bit your tongue to prevent any noise coming out. What now? What did he expect?

His breathing was shaky as he surveyed you through the small eyeholes of his mask, hands hovering over your sides for a second.

You couldn't deny that this position, this close proximity, was turning you on. Especially feeling how hard he was pushed up against you.

He seemed to decide what he wanted to do next as his fists gripped the fabric of your pyjama shirt, suddenly tearing it open so buttons flew everywhere and then ripping it off of you and tossing it to a darkened corner of the room. His hands didn't hesitate it exploring the new uncovered areas of skin, his rough callouses against your soft flesh. He was clearly enjoying this new adventure as he appeared to grow impossibly harder beneath you. Lots of him was impossible.

The clasp he had on your breasts was almost painful but your eyes rolled back in pleasure nevertheless. You liked that he was manhandling you, the strength you'd been fantasising about since day one finally being used on you.

His hands slid down your sides until they met your hips, fingers digging in and pulling them against his. A choked moan escaped your mouth drowning out the sound of his own grunt. When Michael decided that he seemed to like that, he did it again. Rougher this time. And quicker. Then he set a pace doing it over and over again. Your hands flew to his shoulders to give yourself something to hold onto, some grounding. Because this was more than you could handle.

How could something so simple feel so good?

The feeling of his coveralls rubbing against you through the thin material of your sleep shorts was heavenly. That, mixed with his hardness pushing against you in all the right place meant you were in pure ecstasy.

The uncontrollable noises leaving you would've been embarrassing if it weren't for the fact that this was the best you'd ever felt. And you hadn't even had sex. Yet.

Barely a sound left Michael, just the occasional short groan to go along with his heavy breathing.

You couldn't quite tell where he was looking until his head suddenly snapped down and his eyes clearly fixated on where your breasts were bouncing with the rapid movement of the two of you rocking against each other. A slightly louder noise left him then.

There was no rest for you, even if your legs did grow tired and you ran out of breath because he wouldn't let you stop moving. You knew you were probably creating a wet patch on his clothes and that would only grow bigger when he finally came. You were surprised he was lasting this long to be honest. For someone who had been locked up most of his life and hadn't had any sexual experience, he had some stamina in him. But maybe he wasn't a virgin. Was your assumption wrong?

You didn't get time to dwell on it as his arm suddenly locked around your waist and he stopped the two of you. Looking down at him, he was almost the perfect picture of composure. Just some heavy breathing indicated what the two of you had been up to. You couldn't imagine you looked quite as calm.

The arm around you stiffened as he titled the two of you to the side.

"What are you doi- woah." The room was plunged into darkness as he switched the lamp off and then pulled you tight against him again. "Why did you- oh."

Your unfinished question was answered with the sound of rubber hitting the floor penetrating your ears and the feeling of Michael's breath against your skin. You didn't get the chance to question him further as to why he did that as he immediately buried his face in the valley of your breasts and rocked your hips against his to get the friction going again, his free hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the two of you moved.

You bit your bottom lip, extremely happy that he hadn't decided to just stop and leave, that this was still going. The happiness only extended when he licked a drop of sweat off of your skin and you almost screamed. But you couldn't imagine if was the kind of screaming he was used to so you bit your tongue.

Trying to adjust to the sudden absence of light by blinking, but having little success, you looked down to where you imagined Michael's head would be. You saw nothing. Naturally, the only solution to that was to move your hands up his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair. As you curled your fingers into the locks, you were pleasantly surprised to find how soft it was.

You would've smiled or giggled to yourself if he hadn't chosen that exact moment to bite into your collarbone and thrust up underneath you. Your response of tugging on his hair seemed to go down well as he did it again.

"Fuck." You whined against the top of his head, eyes scrunching shut.

That caught Michael's attention, his head pulling back and his free hand abandoning your thigh to wrap around the front of your neck, squeezing slightly when situated there.

You knew what he was doing. Mixing what he usually found pleasurable with this new experience. You wondered whether it was getting him off even more. If the way he was practically throbbing beneath you was any indication, then yes.

This added element of danger sent a shiver down your spine and an intense pulse to your core, making you rock against him without any prompting from him at all. You could still breathe but you knew he could stop that at any second if he chose to.

A breathless moan rumbled from the back of your throat as he squeezed your neck tighter, the arm locked around your waist pushing you against him even harder.

You were so close. So, so close. You chased your high like it was running away from you, rubbing yourself against him as roughly as you could. But there was no need.

Because when Michael leaned forward again to lick a long strip up from your left breast to your neck and then bit you, hard, it was like you saw the pearly gates of heaven. Or the fiery descent to hell.

Your orgasm crashed over you in hot waves as you collapsed against him, forcing his body to hit the back of the couch as your forehead met his and you gasped into his mouth, lips almost grazing but not quite meeting. Your grasp on his hair was tight, tugging on the roots like they were your lifeline. Your naked chest pressed against his clothed one, and that combined with the slight pain of the hair pulling was enough for Michael to come underneath you.

You could feel him twitching against you, only making you shudder against him more, as the wet patch on his jumpsuit grew as you predicted. The quietest extended groan left his mouth as he tensed beneath you, arms locking around you. His hips bucked up against yours a few times weakly before he grew limp.

You rested for a moment, trying to gain some strength back in your shaking legs, before you pushed off of him and stood up. Feeling around in the air for the lamp, you covered your eyes before switching it back on.

"Find your mask and put it back on." You instructed, waiting a moment for him to do so.

He didn't make any noise as he moved, as usual, and the only indication you had that he was done was the looming feeling of his presence in front of you and the sound of his exhales rattling the rubber that adorned him.

You uncovered your eyes and squinted against the sudden light, looking up to find Michael almost chest to chest with you. Well, head to chest. He was very tall after all.

Your gaze flickered down to his left hand which was slightly extended towards you. He was holding your pyjama shirt. The one he'd ruined by ripping all of the buttons off.

"Oh, thanks." You took it from him and put it back on, holding it together at the front by crossing your arms against your chest.

Probably a bad idea considering this position made the top gape open and your breasts push together to create an exaggerated cleavage. Michael didn't seem to mind as he lifted his right hand and traced a finger across the swell of your breasts for a moment before dropping his arm back to his side again.

You dropped your eyes away in embarrassment, and slight arousal, and noticed the mess the two of you had made on his blue jumpsuit.

"You're gonna want to wash that." You said, meekly gesturing towards it. You couldn't deny that seeing the stains that you'd made together was making your skin feel hot again.

He didn't even look to see what you were talking about, just continued to stare at you through his mask.

You tried to come up with something to say but nothing sprung to mind. What were you supposed to say to a serial killer that you'd just dry humped and orgasmed on top of?

It seemed like you didn't need to come up with a one-sided conversation starter though as he suddenly turned on his heel and left the room. You hesitated before following him. Stupid really since you couldn't even keep up with him at the best of times, especially not now on weak legs.

And, as usual, by the time you'd reached the kitchen he was gone and the door was locked.

He continued to return every night as normal but didn't enter your house again. No injuries seemed to be inflicted upon him for a while. You were beginning to get bored. Sighing every time he left with no hint of coming inside again.

Which is why a few days later you were very shocked by his out of character behaviour.

You woke up cold, your blankets stripped from your bed and the feeling of someone watching you sinking a chilling freeze into your bones. It was soon clear why you felt that way.

His silhouette was partially outlined by the moonlight coming through your bedroom window as he stood over you.

You shot up in bed, giving yourself a head rush. "Michael, what the fu-" You were cut off as he grasped the hand that was reaching for your bedside lamp. "No light? Why?"

He answered your question by pressing something rubber into your palm. His mask.

"Oh. Okay..." You frowned to yourself as you dropped the mask on your nightstand. What was he expecting you to do if he was injured but you couldn't see him? "I can't clean your wounds if it's dark."

It was too dark to see his face but the natural light from outside was enough to see him shake his head no. He wasn't injured. What did he need then?

"Then what? Why are you here? At this time?" You were still slightly dazed from just waking up, trying to shake some coherent thought into your head. What was the time? He'd already been and gone earlier that evening. How had he gotten in? You were sure you'd locked the door? Maybe that made no difference?

His breathing was heavy, shoulders moving up and down with his laboured inhales and exhales.

His grip on your wrist hadn't loosened as he pulled your hand towards him, resting it on his abdomen and then slowly dragging down and down and-

"Oh."

He was hard.

Very hard.

"You want me to-"

You'd guessed by this point that he probably hated hearing you talk as he was always cutting you off. This time by pushing on your shoulders so you fell flat on your back and bounced on the mattress. And then he was on top of you in mere fractions of a second.

He was smothering.

His mere presence was enough to stop your breath in your throat and having him be this close, having all of his weight pressed against you this way, practically stole the oxygen from your bloodstream.

His breath was hot on your face, his nose barely grazing against yours before he moved to trace it along your hairline and then down your neck where he inhaled deeply, groaning lowly at your scent.

You reached up to touch him but he was too fast, clasping both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

"This doesn't work if I can't touch you." You mumbled frustratedly, more to yourself than to him.

It wasn't strictly true but what did he know? Last time he hadn't used any real technique, just done whatever felt best for him which luckily also felt good for you. He'd used the mere skill brought to him by innate exploration. Maybe this time he'd be more purposeful with you.

Unlikely.

The statement you'd made seemed to have some sort of influence on him though as he slowly let go of your wrists and let you dig one into his hair, where you gently pulled on it, and let the other drift to undo the top buttons of his coveralls. You popped them open cautiously, one by one, until your nails stroked the material of his grey undershirt. You assumed it was grey as usual.

Your fingers wandered to the neckline where you swooped the index to get a feel of his skin. He froze above you but didn't stop you.

"I'm going to undo more. Just stop me if you want. But gently." You clarified, not wanting bruised wrists in the morning which was guaranteed if he grabbed them with his vice-like grip again.

Each button fell open easily, like they were dying to be free from their clasps, and Michael didn't stop you once. And when the last one was undone, he leant back slightly on his knees to let you push the jumpsuit down so it bunched around his waist just like the first time he'd been in your house.

You took the opportunity to let your hands roam the muscles you'd been admiring since the first time you'd seen him up close. They were solid. He was solid.

He crowded over you again, breathing getting more rapid the more you touched him. He let out a soft sound when your hands reached his crotch, palming him over his clothes.

"Take them off and I can touch you more." You offered, attempting to sound sultry but sure you just sounded desperate instead.

He hesitated but did as you said, standing up to push the jumpsuit further down his legs but still not taking it off completely. Then he was on top of you again, pushing your hand against him before you even had the chance to realise he was so close again. You squeezed him through his underwear and he bucked his hips against your palm.

You did that for a while, moving your hand up and down the outline of him through the material and ignoring the ache between your own legs. Getting him riled up was a lot of fun, especially when he let noises slip every now and again. You just wished you could see the reactions on his face. Did he bite his lip? Did he screw his eyes shut? Was his jaw dropped open? You guessed you'd never know.

While those thoughts plagued your mind, it seemed Michael had changed his. And what was happening wasn't good enough for him anymore. So he slapped your hand away suddenly. Before you could even begin to utter a sentence, he ripped your pyjama shirt open.

Great, another one ruined.

His hands shot to your chest, away from where they'd been resting either side of your head previously, and he started to knead the flesh. Your back arched, pushing your chest closer to his and making your nipples rub against the fabric of his t-shirt. Michael must've figured out that the stimulation was good based on the gasp you let out as he moved his attention to your nipples, flicking and tweaking them with his fingers.

He didn't seem hesitant at all in what he was doing but it was also clear he wasn't experienced either. There was no rhythm to his touches, he just did whatever felt right. And that worked for you.

You grew extremely wet when he started grinding himself against your core from instinct alone. You wanted more, craved more, needed more.

Your hands flew to the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down a few inches to pull him free. You knew he was big but having the real thing in your hand, no clothing barriers at all, was a whole other story.

You could hear his teeth clicking shut when you started to stroke him, skin on skin, spreading his pre-cum up and down his length.

"Fuck, Michael. Jesus." You garbled, head wild with lust and nothing else. "Need you inside me."

He stopped moving at that, hands falling away from your chest and hips no longer bucking to pump himself into your palm.

Maybe he really was clueless.

"You know? Inside me?" You reached around to find one of his hands, pushing it down the waistband of your sleep shorts until his fingers met your wetness.

He wasn't even doing anything but the sensation alone of him touching you made you shiver. That was until he seemed to understand what he was feeling. His head tilted to the side, just about visible in the moonlight, as he let his fingers explore. As he grazed your clit, you squeaked quietly. He seemed to like that so he did it a couple more times, just to illicit a reaction out of you. But he got bored quickly and kept on feeling.

When he reached the source of the wetness, he pushed a finger in. You moaned. Loudly. He liked that a lot more, so pulled out the finger and reinserted with a second one joining in. Your eyes rolled back at this. And the sounds you made reached a new decibel. Michael did the same thing again and again, pumping his fingers just to feel you clench around him.

When he eventually pulled his fingers free, you whined in protest before the sounds of him sucking the taste of you off of his skin hit you. And you decided that maybe the loss of contact was okay if that's what he was going to do instead.

When he was satisfied with that, Michael tore your shorts off of you completely and tossed them over his shoulder somewhere. Then his underwear was pushed further down and he was spreading your legs apart, as far as they would go.

Your heart rate picked up further than it was already running, probably entering dangerous territory. But you didn't care. It was finally about to happen.

Michael crawled over you, shadowed face hanging above yours. You just nodded at him, wondering whether he was able to see you do it. Either way, he seemed to get the message that you really really wanted to do this. So, with a hand on one of your thighs to hold you in place, and the other on his cock to guide him, he pushed into you.

At that moment you decided that you were definitely seeing the devil in the afterlife.

But it was worth it for this.

He stretched you open perfectly, gliding in with ease considering how wet you already were. But that was nothing in comparison to how you felt hearing him letting out what could only be described as a mixture between a whimper and a pleasured groan against your ear.

If never hearing him talk meant that the noises he let out during sex made you tingle, then you'd take his silence any day.

The hand on your thigh moved to curl your leg around his waist, changing the angle so he moved into you deeper. And the other rested against your head to keep him propped up. Yours scraped down his back in ecstasy, probably leaving nail marks along the plains of his skin. You were sure he wouldn't mind, he'd had worse injuries.

He stayed still once he'd entered you, stiff but breathing heavily.

"Move, Michael." You whispered. "Please move."

And when he pulled out and slammed back in again, you were positive you could see the grim reaper knocking at your door ready to whisk you away to the tortuous pits of hell.

All you knew is that you certainly weren't seeing heaven after this.

Michael grunted, head hanging so his soft hair tickled against your skin. But he seemed to get the idea as he pumped in and out of you at a ruthless pace. Skin slapped together, your chests rubbing against one another as you bounced up and down the surface of the bed, which shuffled along the floor with every thrust.

You'd never known sex to be so loud. Maybe you'd just never had sex as good as this. Because the roaring of blood in your ears definitely wasn't helping.

You couldn't help the sounds that were escaping your parted lips, thankful that your neighbours' houses weren't close enough to hear you. Your other leg moved to wrap around Michael's waist, tugging him closer to you and locking him in place. You need him to be as close as possible, to be as deep inside you as possible.

The hand on your thigh dug in deep, certainly leaving bruises, before trailing up the length of your body and wrapping around the front of your neck. He pushed down this time, squeezing slightly to cut off your airway just a little. It excited you more than anything and made you clench around him.

That seemed unexpected to Michael as he faltered slightly before pounding into you harder than before, having absolutely no mercy on your body. You only clenched harder.

His pattern began to fumble, thrusts become more forceful but less regular. He was getting close. And you weren't far off either. You let one of your hands fall from his back and placed it between the two of you, starting to rub your clit. He took notice of this and pushed your hand away to replace it with his own, letting oxygen rush back into your lungs again.

The head rush combined with the pressure on your clit tipped you over the edge into oblivion. You choked out a muffled scream as your orgasm ripped through your body, tears falling from the corners of your eyes.

But Michael didn't let up for a second. This just seemed to give him a new wave of energy as his pace picked up rubbing tight circles on your clit and slamming into you with no forgiveness.

You approached the edge rapidly again, the raw feeling over overstimulation pushing you closer and closer. His sweat dripped onto you, creating a sheen that let your bodies slide against each other in erotic heat. You could feel every inch of him either against you or inside of you. And that thought made you come again. This time the scream was less muffled.

The feeling of you clenching around him again like a vice had Michael finally hitting his peak too, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he pumped you full of his cum. If you weren't so spent already, that would've made for three orgasms.

He bit down on the skin of your shoulder to prevent any noises coming out too loud, but he couldn't mask all of them. He twitched inside of you as he gave a few last lazy bucks of his hips before he pulled out completely, standing up and looking down at you.

You really wondered how good his vision must be in this light for him to be able to see you. Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was faking it.

Either way you didn't care, too exhausted suddenly to really think about it. You began to drift to sleep, desperately trying to keep your eyes open to see what he'd do next. You vaguely remembered seeing him get dressed again. But you don't remember him leaving. Or moving you to rest your head back on your pillow. Or him pulling your blankets over you again.

Maybe he didn't do any of that. Maybe you did in your sleepy state.

It didn't matter. He was still gone before you even had the chance to register what happened.

But you were pleased when the next night, you glanced out of your kitchen window and found him stood there as usual, watching you. From now on, you were just going to leave your door unlocked to make it easier for him.

A/N: To celebrate my Halloween, I watched Halloween (1978) home alone whilst my housemates all went to a party. It inspired me to write this.

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #halloween #halloween 1978 #slashers #slasher #michael myers fic #michael myers fanfiction #michael myers smut #slasher fic #slasher x reading #slasher x you #ej’s fics #ej’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing

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morimemichael · 8 days

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Jealousy

Slashers reaction to their s/o flirting with someone else/getting compliments from someone else.

This goes for OG!Michael, RZ!Michael, Brahms, Ghostface (Stu), Pyramid Head

WG: jealousy issues, doubtful behavior, a little gore, some NSFW, dev!consent?¿ apart from that I’ll try to include some fluff too (cause I can’t live without it :’D)

OG!Michael

You’d be mesmerized to know how many things Michael can know or find out about you.

That’s how he found out you were extra friendly with a coworker.

Maybe he hasn’t made it clear, but he didn’t have any intentions to share you with other men.

You were his and his alone.

Something inside him snap when he saw your lips kissing goodbye on this guy’s cheek.

To you was something insignificant, but to him?

Ohh boy…

He was jealous.

No need to mention that Michael slaughtered this poor guy.

He got home with you, disappointed, and a little sad for what he saw today.

You were starting to wonder where he was, it was already dark and you hadn’t seen him in all day.

Your question was answered when you felt a large hand going up your back, straight to the back of your neck.

His breathing low and steady as always.

His hand grabbed the back of your neck and squeezed it a little bit, making you move away from the kitchen, but not so far.

“Hey, Michael! Missed u today, where u been?” You asked him, not being aware that he spent almost all day stalking you

He didn’t reply, instead he moved his hand upward and grabbed you by the hair this time, tucking at it so he could whisper in your ear

“That hurts!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t care. You tried to reach his hand holding your hair, but with his free hand he catches yours and puts it behind your back twisting it.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

He tucked at your again in protest

Then you realized that he might have been stalking you throughout the day and saw that little interaction between you and your male coworker. It must be that right?

“I’m s-sorry Michael, I’m sorry, it’s not gonna happen again.” You apologized.

He lowered his head so it leveled with your right ear.

“Mine.” He whispered, his voice raspy but clear. “Say it.”

“Ok…ok, I’m yours. Only yours…” You swore. He let you go, your hands reaching the cold marble of the kitchen.

Latter that night when you both went to sleep, he apologized for the way he treated you earlier.

RZ!Michael

Things with Michael turn different when he’s jealous. First things first, sometimes you can’t tell if he’s jealous or not cause his behavior it’s almost pretty much the same.

You both know each other since you were 9yo. You were the only one who used to play with him, and he’s thankful for that. But your heart was torn apart when he committed that awful crime. You knew his sister and father were shitty, but you never expected Michael to kill them.

When you found out he scaped the mental hospital he was being kept, something inside of you wanted Michael to come see you. You weren’t so wrong after all.

So it’s been a couple of weeks since he’s staying with you, and you know better than to ask him where he goes at night, leaving you alone in the house.

There was this particular time when your ex stopped by and stayed for lunch when Michael was out stalking, as usual. Or so you thought. Turns out that he decided to stalk you this time, and when he saw this foreign man to his knowledge, he snapped.

You didn’t had time to even serve lunch when you heard your ex screaming. “Holy shit!” And he sounded in pain too.

When you came back to the living room Michael had stabbed your ex’s hand to the wooden table that was already prepared to eat.

“Michael…please.., he’s my ex.”

Michael wasn’t sure of your words, so he pulled out painfully the kitchen knife of your poor ex’s hand, a pained moan scaped his mouth. The he grabbed the doomed guy by his neck and looked at you again.

“Michael, Michael, please…I swear he’s my ex. Please!!!” You begged him.

Michael decided enough was enough and let your ex go, but not before pointing you to go upstairs with his knife. You obeyed.

Once you both were there he grabbed you by the throat this time and squeezed a little bit. Now you were scared. He tucked a little bit just to let you know that if he want to, he could kill you any minute.

He bend you over the edge of the bed so your stomach was facing towards the bed, and your ass up.

“how romantic” You mocked. To be honest this wasn’t the first time you two fucked. But this? Holy fuck, this was totally different. You weren’t even sure if you’re disliking this.

“I’m not sharing.” He growled at your ear. He took out your pijamas and panties with one hand, with the other he took out his mask. He positioned himself with your entrance. Spit a little bit his cock to use it as lube.

He grabbed you by your neck again and put it the tip of his cock.

“Michael, I’m not even-” You protested, reaching your right hand to his leg to try to stop him, but he grabbed it and pulled it against him so you were closer to his chest.

“Shut up, and fucking take it.” That’s all he said before thrusting all the way into you. He set a brutal pace and all he could hear was your screams and moans of pleasure.

“Fu-uck Michael!! Don’t stop, don’t stop!!” You moaned. He got closer to your ear again.

“This is what you get for making me jealous.”

You thought you could make him jealous more often.

BRAMHS HEELSHIRE

“Brahms!” You moan your lungs out. He had you lay down facing the bed, and now he was fingering you like his life depends on that.

And all for what? Well, you told Malcom earlier that he had a nice hair cut today. Apparently, Brahms didn’t like that.

He slapped your ass with his free hand “Your mine, mine!” He growled on your ear.

“Okay…okay, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…I bet you are.” He stated, his fingers moving faster now.

You were reaching the point of your climax when he stopped, and pulled at your hair.

“You wanna cum?” He asked. You nod and hummed. “Well, beg for it.” He slapped your ass again.

“Please…I’m so close.” You begged vaguely.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” He replied, voice deeper now, filled with pure lust.

“Brahms, please…please I wa-I need to cum, please! I won’t do it again I promise!”

His fingers thrusting into your core in a brutal animalistic way. That was enough to make you cum that night.

Once you were finish he grabbed you by the hair again and said “if I see you again with him, his dead. You hear me?” He question.

“Yeah-yeah.” That’s all that would come out from your mouth.

PYRAMID HEAD

This big guy had never talked and never will, so if something just bothers him he will let you know in other ways.

Like when, for example, James complimented your bracelet one day. He was pissed, but he didn’t say anything, not that he could. So what did he do instead?

Well, he fallowed James all around Silent Hill making his life more miserable if that’s was even possible.

You weren’t exactly pissed at his behavior but you certainly didn’t like it. So next time he sees you you’ll let him know.

To your fortune that time was right now.

“Is tormenting James even necessary, Pyramid?” You asked annoyed.

He lowers his head and shakes no.

“So, why are you doing it?” He couldn’t answer you knew it so you asked him again. “Is it because you’re jealous of James?”

He shakes his head no several times, trying to hide the obvious feeling .

“Yeah…you definitely are.” You said.

He lowered his head again and was ready to leave when you grabbed his large hand.

“You can stay, it’s okay. It happens.” You smiled at him. From under his large pyramid, something like a tentacle came out to caress your chin.

“Promise me you won’t do it again, ok?”

He just nods and walk away peacefully.

GHOSTFACE

Since you two finished watching that movie, you wouldn’t stop talking about the killer.

How he was using a kitchen knife to kill people on the movie, or how he used his own hands to choke someone. You could notably see he was pissed at your comments of appreciation.

“Oh come on! I’m just messing around!” You laughed at him. He couldn’t be mad just because of that right?

“Well, go messing around Michael Myers then, perhaps he will burie his knife in you.” Stu said back.

“Stu come on! It’s just a movie!” You laughed a little bit

“If it’s just a movie don’t make me jealous!” He confessed.

“Jealous?” You giggle, then tried to hug him.

“N-no, no, you go hug Michael, he needs it more than I do.” Stu’s voice faking a sad tone. “Or go kiss his mask instead, cause apparently you don’t like mine anymore….ouch.” He continued.

“Well, if you say so…then I’m heading to Haddonfield then!” You said smiling to wait his reaction.

“No babe, don’t leave, I was just kidding.” He pouted, grabbing your hand so you wouldn’t leave.

“Ok..I promise to not saying anything like that again about Michael, if you promise to not get jealous.” You offered.

“Deal.” Stu replied smiling.

“I’m starving, wanna order some pizza?” He offered.

“Hell yeah.” You said, pizza didn’t sound that bad.

“Besides…I like your costume better.” You confessed.

“Ohh…” Stu was flattered, and couldn’t help but blush a little bit.

After that, you ate your pizza and cuddle all night, you being the smaller spoon. You quickly fell asleep in Stu’s warm arms.

Well I needed a little bit of humor with ghostie okay? 😭 I hope you liked it! See ya around 😊

#brahms heelshire #ghostface #michael myers #brahms heelshire x reader #ghostface x reader #michael myers x reader #halloween #pyramid head #slashers #silent hill #pyramid head x reader #stu matcher x reader #scream #the boy #the boy 2016 #halloween 2007

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min1check · 5 months

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Leto! Joker x side chick! Reader ig…

1248 words

Barely proofread ts so i’m so sorry if u see errors

pt 2

Description: You work at one of Joker’s clubs and he starts to take an interest in you….

Every night there would be presents and money left on my small table in my small ass kitchen in this small ass apartment.

It all started when I finally learned the real identity of my boss’s boss’s boss at the club I worked at. I really needed money desperately for my family who lived out of the country. I’m currently working on the papers so they can gain legal presence but until then I need to work hard and study hard.

At the club I worked at, they paid me better than most places and I would be able to go to university in the daytime and work at night.

The club was pretty high class, there were many high profile politicians who were VIPs. Given that they were even at a club, they were most if not all sleezebags who tried to hit on the staff to the point that I could file sexual harassment charges. But nevermind that.

The club was so high class and full of VIPs that I didn’t expect it to be owned by the biggest crime lord in this city, the Joker. This whole city was corrupt in and out. Even if I tried to file those sexual harassment charges I would’ve been shut up instantly.

When I saw this head of green hair and his pale deathly looking skin and his red lips that I couldn’t tell if it was lipstick or blood, I tried my best to not be noticed by him.

Though he looked like a corpse he was extremely attractive. Maybe in another universe I would actually try to get at him. Well and if his fellow Clown Queen of Crime didn't exist. She frightens me even more than Joker. Well actually that’s a lie but as a girl I can say that we’re ruthless when it comes to boyfriends and husbands and such. Too blind and in too much love to use actual reason.

Harley’s beautiful though they genuinely look good together.

I went over to Joker’s table where he was talking to (or more like taunting) his client to drop off the drinks. It seemed that everyone else already knew what his regular drink was and his client’s.

I tried my best not to mess up or to not loudly drop the drinks because at this moment I could actually not stop my whole body from shaking. They continued talking about their deal without even looking at me. I kept a friendly smile on my face.

I walked off a bit quickly because I was terrified. Yet I felt like someone was staring right at me. I quickly turned my head and all I could see in that moment was Joker with his usual devilishly grin looking straight at me. My blood ran cold.

When I was out of his sight I closed my eyes and started to pray.

‘Dear God, please forgive me for any sins I have committed for I do not want to die tonight. I have too much to live for so please don’t let me die. Thank you for everything you have blessed me with Lord, amen.’

I was crying internally.

Literally was gonna kill myself right then and there. But I brought myself back to reality and back to work.

Whenever I would come to work the Joker would be there with Harley.

I literally think I’m going crazy because I think he keeps looking straight at me…. With his girlfriend/wife/partner in crime which was even worse. Yeah he was hot but cheating men are scum of the Earth. And Joker’s a mass murderer and other stuff. To be honest I kinda forgot I’ve been too busy with school to care about politics….

I finally got a shift off and a day off of school today. I’m just gonna sleep and lounge around and be fat. I got out of my bed to go get some more ice cream in my kitchen.

It felt a bit unnerving when I was in the kitchen, like someone was watching me. I shook off the feeling because I had locks on every single window and door. The crime in my country is a bit bad so Gotham wasn’t that much different.

As soon as I turned around to go back to my bedroom with my ice cream in hand…

“Boo!”

“What the fuck?!” I screamed so loud that I dropped my bowl of ice cream and it shattered.

“The look on your face doll… it’s so… funny!” The intruder was the Joker and he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop laughing at my reaction.

“…” I just stood there in silence thinking about how that bowl was so expensive…

I didn’t want my floor to be sticky so I started picking up shards of the really expensive bowl.

“Aww~ Are you.. mad doll~?” He teased me with his usual grin.

“Not really, I’m just a little sad because this bowl was really expensive.” I sighed to myself.

“If that’s it then here.” Joker tossed money at me.

“Um… It’s okay I’ll just work for it back.” My mom always taught me that I shouldn’t accept money and that I should always offer to pay so I gave that money back to him.

“Just take it Doll, think of it as my~ first~ gift~ to~ you~” he really emphasized on the last part like really.

He got comfy and sat down on a table chair as I cleaned the floor from the sticky mess.

That sounds a little wrong, I just mean my ice cream trust…

After cleaning it all, it occurred to me…

Why and how did the Joker get into my apartment…

My blood ran cold. I feel like I could turn into a reptile with how much my blood goes cold.

“I liked seeing you at my club but I like seeing you in this shaggy apartment more.” He looked at me.

“Um… how did you get in here?” I spoke quietly afraid I would somehow strike a nerve.

“It was easy! I broke your window.” He spoke like he just finished climbing Mt. Everest.

My mouth dropped to the floor.

Like I tried to close it but it just wouldn't.

“…”

“What~? Cat got your tongue Doll?” He grinned.

I’m actually going to kill myself.

At this point I hope he pulls out the glock 19 and shoots me….

Wait but all my windows are barred up…

I looked into my living room and realized there was glass everywhere and the metal bar was stretched apart enough where it would fit the Joker perfectly.

Calculating the cost in my head I actually started to cry. Tears ran down my face.

I would be fine if I picked up a few extra shifts but I had to study more because finals were coming up. I’ll have to cut down on food and sleep…

The Joker awkwardly patted my back.

“Here’s some more money Princess.”

“I.. Cant accept it.” I said between sniffles and pushed his money back to him.

He suddenly grabbed my head with both his hands and made me stare him in the eye.

“Take. The. Money. Princess. Or else I’ll shove it down your throat.” His face was way too close to mine.

“Thank you…” I tried my best to smile while he was still manhandling my head.

He kissed me out of literally nowhere.

My blood went cold again.

I don’t want to be a mistress or some side bitch….

And Harley’s gonna kill me……

Yet it felt so good.

#jared leto joker #joker x reader #leto joker #leto joker x reader #the joker x reader #jared leto joker x reader

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sunnycanvas · 2 months

Note

Could you do a what if in unfaithful baldwin what if before she jumped into the river he managed to capture her..... this story is very good you are a great writer

Warning: depression, talk of suicidal thoughts and character death

Author strictly warns readers to proceed with caution. If you are sensitive about these topics under any circumstance please don't read further

Alternate ending

Just when I jumped into river and I was swimming towards my freedom. The knights caught me. I tried fighting hard. Hitting, punching them but they didn't even bulge and pulled me off shore. I started screaming and crying like a mad woman. I could see pity in some of them but most most had neutral expression. "(Y/N)" my husband said relieved and began approaching me. With intention to hug me but I looked back at him with such resentment that he stopped. He literally froze in his place. "Your majesty". I said coldy and I knew even though my husband was expert when it came to his composure I was able detect his tense body movement. "I know that I have committed a crime against my lord" "I know that our relationship won't go back like before therefore I ask you as a punishment I have done against crown that I be beheaded for my crime". Baldwin IV looked heartbroken at my statement and said "Chérie, do you think I would be so cruel to execute my own wife, the woman who saved my life". I laughed in pain and said "In return you killed my life, I shouldn't have saved you" "I payed a huge price I admit I regret it". I could hear gasps around me but I didn't care. It's not like I had anything to loose anyway. Baldwin IV was shocked I could see he was getting angrier but I could also see another emotion his eyes which I couldn't tell pity,sadness or fear which one is it? Baldwin IV let out a sigh and said "Queen (Y/N) you have not only insulted the crown but also wished for king's death which in eyes of law is treason and the punishment for this should execution" "However I can't forget the love and devotion you have shown to same crown and saved your king before therefore I have decided to spare you". Tears fell from my eyes when I heard the statement. "Chevalier, get the queen on top of my horse". I was seated on top of my horse and Baldwin IV with the help of his knights climbed up on the horse. I kept quiet as Baldwin held me tightly in his grip and we rode off. When we went back I saw mistress in the palace eagerly waiting for him. She smirked seeing my state and could tell by my husband's cold face that he was in sour mood. Once Baldwin IV was able to get down from the horse with help of his knights he pulled me down along with him.

"Your Grace" the mistress gave a graceful courtesy. I knew she was expecting my husband to call her in his chamber. My husband didn't even bother acknowledging her and went straight into the palace carrying me in his arms. Once we reached his room he slowly laid me down in his bed. He laid on top of me and put his face near my neck and smelled me breathing my scent "I missed you" he said.

"........."

"You know when you left like that I must admit I did feel insulted but deep down I was also hurt and worried about you"

".........."

"What if my enemies captured you, do you realise how reckless this was" "No matter how many women I sleep with I will always come back to you because at the end of the day you are my queen". "The woman who saved my life and nobody can and will take your place" "Do you understand that, I will always be your husband at the end of the day"

"........."

"Are you going to ignore me, my dear queen" Baldwin IV smiled mischievously "My queen has been rather cheeky going against me" "I knew you were rebellious but not to that extent"

"........."

Baldwin IV sighed realising there is no point now. Before he left he asked servants to bring fruits for queen. He quickly left for his work chamber. He sat down rubbing his forehead. "Chevalier" he commanded. "My lord" the knights were instantly summoned. "Tell my mistress that that she is not longer welcome in Kingdom" "She shall be exiled". The knights bowed at the command and instantly left.

Baldwin IV POV:

"If I pamper her with love and pay attention to only her then perhaps within time she shall forgive me" "I should get a jeweller and dress maker with finest material for her and spend every time free I get to be with her" "It will take time but hopefully (Y/N) and I have relationship like before ". Baldwin IV thought as he began to work. It was evening and Baldwin IV heard sounds of rain and thunder. Baldwin IV smiled remembering how much (Y/N) loves rain. "Hopefully her mood is better now". "I hope everything is alright, in case she is still hurt about our situation then I will let her go" "If keeping her with me will bring her pain then it's best we part ways" . "I should see her hopefully she is feeling better now". I thought as I went to my chamber

"(Y/N)" I called as I knocked on the door. She didn't respond. "Perhaps she fell asleep I thought" however judging by what happened today I doubt she would fall asleep. "I guess she doesn't want to see me now". I thought but for some reason I had a bad feeling about it that something is seriously wrong. "Chevalier, break the door" I commanded and my men instantly broke the door and what awaited me was far worse I could ever imagine. Inside laid my beloved wife with knife in her chest. I scanned the surrounding wondering where the queen got the knife from and saw the table with fruits inside the basket. "The servant must have left the knife with it so that the queen can cut and eat the fruits" I thought "Quick call a doctor" I commanded before I knew it. My men quickly left and I ran towards my beloved

"No!" "No!" "Why!?" "Why (Y/N)!? "Why!?". I hugged my wife and started crying uncontrollably. The doctor came and asked me to step aside I reluctantly let her go . I waited patiently with hope for (Y/N) to be alive but based on doctor's expression I could tell I was too late.

"(Y/N)"!!! I screamed as the it rained heavily with thunder defening my screen

"(Y/N)" I woke up drenched in sweat. I turned to look myself in mirror and saw my old appearance. "It was a nightmare" "It's been quite a long time since then" I thought. I slowly turned to look at the glass painting in my window to image of my beloved late (Y/N).

"(Y/N)" I said her name as tears fell down my eyes. I looked outside and saw heavy rainfall and heard loud thunder. "Just like back then" I thought. I got up and dragging my old body I went near my beloved I leaned forward and kissed my beloved's face. "The picture doesn't do any justice" "You are lot more beautiful in real life you know".

"........"

"Of course just like back then you aren't responding" "I should have known I had killed you back then moment I decided to give in my temptation" "A good follower of lord doesn't give into temptation but resists it" "Perhaps it would have been good for you if you never met me" "After you left I decided to be a good follower of our lord" "I took vow of chastity and attend church every day praying that our lord spares you from damnation of hell". Baldwin IV let heavy tears fall down his eyes as he said that, he chocked in his tears and said"For loving a leper, I was already disfavoured by lord, therefore he punished me with leprosy" "Hopefully he shows mercy to you for showing kindness to leper". I cried bitterly. I wept in front of her but it was too late. She was already gone

#baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #baldwin iv imagine #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven fanfic #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven headcanons #king baldwin iv

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

Clown Talk

Yandere Crime Harem + G.N Clown TV-Showhost Reader

Extortion. Aggravated Assault. Murder.

The list went on for the royal who had it all, and lost almost everything in one night.

A well respected and charitable figure in their community, it was a shock to the masses to see local casino owner, and frequent donor to hospitals framed on the five o'clock news for misconduct. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders and a realistic outlook on the world could see straight through the facade. Beneath that mask was a monster - every good deal that person ever committed a cover for their true goals.

Those they had helped plead their innocence. Those they had wronged tied their noose. The documents leaked to the public would tell which party was correct, wiped clean from history before the victor could be declared. Read aloud in court, each word marked a new trial at play. The execution of the rat bastard who got them into this whole ordeal in the first place.

The criminal know exactly who it was. Caught his hand in the cookie jar resembling their safe weeks ago, but they had enough of a heart to let him go for being the one person his little girl had. Not again. Day in and day out they dreamt of how they'd carry out their revenge. Splattering his brains all over the wall. Slicing him into cutlets and having a nice cookout for everyone involved. It was a beautiful dream. The one thing preventing the compete lost of their sanity. Shouldn't be too long now until their people manage to get them out and their hands around that bastard's neck. Only a matter of time-

"Quit mumbling to yourself- I can't hear the TV."

As if this hell couldn't get any worse. A desaturated rainbow flies across the television screen, showering an empty field with stars and hearts that sprout colorful flowers from the earth. The theme song for the show plays in the background; the strums of each guitar string and the voice humming along to the beat drilled into the criminal's head like psychological warfare. While the voice wasn't totally abysmal it still belonged to their greatest enemy. That fucking clown.

"Good Day, everyone! I've missed you all so much, and am so excited to meet all the new faces. Are you ready all for an exciting day of fun and new adventures?"

The few shouts of agreement make their ears bleed more. Needless to say the prison they had been thrown in was a shit hole. Terrible food, hard beds, and televisions that only played one station without interference. That neon haired, colorblock mess of an entertainer had haunted them from day one of their stay; the sounds chasing them whenever they fled to the sanctuary of their cell. Pathetically, while there were a couple naysayers, majority of the prison population had begun to actually like the show. A body hurls into the seat next to them.

"Thank fuck I didn't miss it. You staying this time, Zero?"

Zero's face wrinkles from the frown lines. 4D was a fellow intimate and the biggest fan of the show. A crook booked for various robberies who just like Zero was ratted on by an acquaintance. The nickname came from their tag including the number fourty and they thought it would be cool in unison with the one they forced onto Zero.

"I told you not to call me that."

"I get that you're some big hot-shot and "adults shouldn't be watching shows for kids.", but it's really good when you sit down and watch it. That clown ain't too bad on the eyes either."

Zero resists the urge to snap their fingers as they air quote. "I'd rather flush my head down a toilet."

"Come on! If ya watch it, I'll leave ya alone for the rest of your sentence."

That catches their attention. Armz crossed, Zero looks at the television. The set had switched to that of a kitchen as the clown speaks

"Juno has been feeling better down today, let's cheer him up with his favorite snack! Before we begin, make sure you always ask for an adults help when handing sharp objects or using the stove. Unless you are one yourself. "

With a wink, they throw an apron and go through the steps of making homemade rice treats with the audience. After putting the tray in the oven, they discreetly pull out another one with a full sheet of the treats already made. Marshmallow fluff and melted chocolate chips ooze from their sides as the clown cuts out a heart shaped piece with a cookie cutter.

"And there you go! A simple, fun activity you can do with family and friends, and even get something taste out of it. Juno prefers chocolate, but you can add a number of things to your own and let your imagination run wild."

Great. Now they were annoyed and hungry. They couldn't stand another segment.

"I'm leaving."

4D whines. "Whaaat? That was barely anything. Hey, don't go-"

They grab Zero's sleeve, but are powerless to stop them as they leave the common area and venture up to their room. Over the guard rail of the second floor, they watch the other inmates mindlessly crowded around the television screen and unironically enjoying it. They would've spat at them had it not been for the guard by their cell. Inside the room, their roommate had left the tv on and that same damned show was playing. They go to turn it off only to be cut off by a fake cry of pain.

"Ouch!"

The clown tumbles to the ground, figure looming over them off screen. They come into frame as they grip the clown's arm and helps them to their feet.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, Juno. I know it wasn't on purpose."

The two face the screen as the clown speaks.

"Sometimes our friends do or say things that hurt our feelings. Take a breath, hear them out, but there's one important rule. Remember - forgiveness and friendship aren't always mutual. Sometimes people we may think are our friends go too far, and they believe an apology will make everything okay, but that's not always the case. The best thing you can do is forgive - and let go."

The background music is soft. The clown's smile is sincere, but an offshoot of that silly expression they had moments ago. Forgive. That weasel? There's no way in hell they could. He ruined them. Damaged their imagine. The bitterness Zero held was the only thing that pulled them forward. But what would come after they got their revenge?

"That's all for day, folks! And don't forget- you all may be my helpers, but I am here to help you the most!"

The intimate ends up watching the show until lights out. Each episode holds a new life lesson, cushioned by the silly activites prior to them and the songs the clown and their friends sings at the end. Regrettably, Zero finds their lips twitching upwards and a hushed laugh in their chest at some of the clown's jokes. When the clown visits them in their sleep, the dreams didn't seem as bad as before.

The next day Zero finds 4D in the yard. They're hesitant to speak.

"So... Why exactly do you like that clown?"

4D drops the equipment in their hand, looking flustered. "Wow, uh, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. If it's so embarrassing, I can make it worth while."

4D refuses the cigeratte they offer. "I quit. It ain't nothing serious like that, we just... talked."

Zero raises a brow. "Talked? You some kind of nutcase or something?"

"Maybe, but what I mean is I sent them a letter. After all the rush and freedom of the things I did, I was going mad in here. I got no friends, no family. At the end of every episode there's an address so I thought I'd try and send them a letter. I never expected them to respond. Hell, I thought the guards would tear it up and laugh, but neither of those predictions were true. They... helped me. More than anyone ever had in my life. Even sent me a couple things when I hadn't asked. They're all I have."

4D wipes their face with their sleeve. Zero, unsure, raises their hand to their shoulder, but falls short of a comforting touch.

"..Thanks... Take care."

Zero sits in their cell when the next show comes end. They pen down the address on the screen, wondering if they were really going to go through with this. They write out their letter and hand it off to the only guard they trust.

"What do you do, when you've lost everything."

A response comes in a week's time.

"Hey, there!

First off, I want to say thank you for sending your letter in. From the address and the others I've spoken too, I know that you're going through a really tough time. It's understandable to believe you've lost everything, but there will always be a new ladder to climb to the top so long as you try your hardest. You may be in the dark for now, but the sun will shine again for you some day."

Zero loses track of how many times they read the letter. They can see eraser marks from when the writer rewrote their lines. It was the exact same penmanship as when the clown wrote their name on a drawing they had just finished, clearing out the possibility of it being an assistant on the show. Zero crumples the envelope and throws it in the trash, but tucks the letter under their pillow.

When they are released the following month, they're found sitting in front of the community television.

"Sunshine's beautiful this time of day, isn't it?"

"B...oss, I'm sorry, please."

Zero takes another drag of their cigar as his head is dunked into the freezing waters. The silence makes the scenario one for the books, but for some reason the sun just isn't as bright as it was on those dirty screens. They exhale as the bruised male is brought out of the sea once more.

"I forgive you, and now I'm letting go." They wave to the others on the boat. "Drop him. I don't want to be late for the show."

Arriving at the studio, a whiny voice drills from behind them.

"Aw, man- you got front row seats? Switch with your ol pal. Its the least you can do since I introduced you to them."

#Clown reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere drabble

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