#michael myers x female reader

[crypticbunnygirl]

Teasing the shape 

Michael Myers x female!brat!reader

Prompts: “You’re gonna regret that” “I’m screwed” “I’m not done with you, you brought this upon yourself” 

This is my first time writing smut, I am open to constructive criticism! just please be nice! :) 

Warnings: rough sex, light bondage, light dom and sub, bites, bruising, darcyphilla (michael loves to see you cry from overstim), slight breeding kink if you squint real hard, overstimulation, size kink, degradation, dumbifaction (like a few words), micheal gets soft with aftercare, Michael does talk a little but only a few lines 

Words: 1.3k 

Somehow, some way, you had convinced Micheal to let you ride him. He never liked being underneath you, unless he initiated it.  But now, you were straddling him, his mask on the floor. His rough hands on your hips.   “C’mon mikey, lemme tie your hands...it’ll be great.” You state. He gives you a sharp glare.  “Come on! Please!! I’ll make you and buy you lots of sweet things!” You say, trying to get him to cave in on letting you tie his hands to the bedpost.  “Fine, don’t make me regret it.” He mutters, his voice raw and deep. Your heart flutters at his voice. You grab the red rope, and make a knot. A few moments later you sit back, biting your lip at how Micheal looks. You feel his eyes practically burning your skin. “I’m going!” You voice, you knew what that look meant, he’s getting impatient. Micheal had helped you with getting ready to take him. You let out a sigh; no matter how many times you and Michael have had sex, it still takes you a while to get used to him, with you riding him, you can take your time. It helped that he was already erect, you let out a shaky breath and slowly sank onto his cock. You look into his eyes, you know you need to hurry up. He didn't have to say anything for you to understand. You let out another deep breath as you continued to slowly go down on his cock, you could see he was growing impatient when he slammed his hips up, his cock filling you up. You gasped at the sudden fullness. You start to move slowly, bringing your hips back up and down, your hands supporting you. You moved slowly to be a tease. How could you not pass this opportunity to tease him?? You weren’t going to pass this up. So, you start moving, slowly knowing damn well Micheal will make you regret this, but you don’t care. Your right hand goes down to your clit and starts slowly rubbing in a circular motion. “Michael~” You utter.  You know he’s about to snap, the way he’s tugging at the rope. Did you purposefully tie them poorly? Maybe. You continue this slow agonizing pace, for him anyway, you were enjoying this. You continue your motions, feeling pressure build in your abdomen. Micheal was glaring at you. He hated this. He wants you to have your hands tied, with him pounding into you like an animal, and you knew this. This was torture for him, watching you please yourself, with your small hands? Please he could do so much better. He knew what you liked, hell loved in bed. How to get you to cry for him. You close your eyes, basking in the pleasure, the slow sensual pleasure. Suddenly you hear a snap, you open your eyes, the bed post is broken, Micheal has gotten out of the rope. Fuck. You're screwed. You feel his hands on your hips and he slams you down onto his dick. He switches so he’s on top, you're beneath him, where you should be. He grabs your wrists, takes the rope that he broke out of and ties your hands together.  “You're going to regret teasing me.” He whispers in your ear. You shudder with excitement. This is exactly what you wanted, and Micheal knew this. He starts thrusting into you, his hands holding your hips in place to make sure you can’t move away as he slams into you. One of his hands goes to your clit, going in rough circular motions.  “Michael! Don’t stop!” You mutter, like he planned to. He continues his rough pace until you're squeezing him. “I’m c-cumming!” You stutter, coating his cock in your juices. He continues to fuck you, not slowing. He drops his head to the crook of your neck, he starts biting and sucking, making you whimper. God how he loved those sounds. He leaves hickies and bite marks galore, he moves to your chest, sucking on your nipples, knowing it was a more sensitive part of your body. You whine, feeling that pressure build up.  “Mikey, I-I’m g-gonna cum a-again.” You whimper. He nods, you know this is what you get for teasing.  He doesn't slow down, only continues the onslaught on your body. You feel the pressure build, build and then, he gets deep enough, hitting the right spot, sending you over the edge. 

“M-Michael!” You whimper, clenching around him, making him groan. Soon his thrusts get sloppy and he dips into your ear, your name falling from his lips, as he cums. You're panting and you see a sly smirk on his face. Before you get a word out he resumes his harsh thrusts. Michael leans down and whispers, “This is what you get, you're going to cum until I’m satisfied.” This is the most vocal he's ever been, you whine as he continues to slam into you. He smirks as you whimper and whine. 

“Whine for me, slut.” He mutters in your ear, his voice making you clench. He starts a rough pace on your clit making you gasp. You can't find the words to let him know your cumming again.

“Mi-Micha-” You can’t even form a sentence, he chuckles.

“Look at you, my baby is all dumb hm? Did I fuck you dumb?” He asks. All you can do is nod and whimper, his voice making you wetter. 

“Of course I did.” He whispers, his arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer to him. You smirk dumbly as he lifts you up by your waists and thrusts into you, hitting that bundle of nerves making you squeal. He continues to hit it. Positioning himself to always hit that bundle of nerves, over and over. You can feel that same feeling building in your gut. Before you could get any words out your coating his cock and he adores watching you come undone underneath him. The way you whimper and your squirming. God, he loved it. He kept thrusting and soon became sloppy, you knew he was getting close. With three thrusts he comes in you, his grip on your hips tightening and holding you in place. Once he finished he pulled out and looked down at you. To him you look like a piece of art, covered in hickies, bite marks, bruises, and his cum leaking out of you. You watch him walk away. You're too exhausted to ask, your brain fuzzy. A few minutes later he comes back with a rag and starts carefully cleaning you. It felt nice, the warm water on your sensitive skin, it was relaxing. Once he finishes cleaning you up, he holds you, a little awkwardly. He wasn’t used to giving affection. But you were very content with his aftercare. He’s a work in progress. Soon you feel sleep take you, falling asleep in Michaels arms. 

[mehidktbh]

“Let me hug you.”

Pairing: HK!Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

Summary: Michael comes back from a hunt to find you waiting for him, only he can’t let you go to bed without giving you a hug

Warning: Established relationship, kissing, sweet fluff, mentions killing and blood but nothing too extreme

A/N: So sad that I haven’t written for Michael in a long time not like how I used to :(

Michael entered the house through the back door house. It was bleak, cold and completely dark. It was quiet and sombre in there and he felt the darkness engulf him. The most piercing darkness ever surrounded him as he made his way through the house, trying to map out where everything was in his head. Normally you’d leave a light on for him when he returned so he wouldn’t bump into something in the middle of the house. But instead, he had to find the light switch in the kitchen where he randomly ended up in.

Flicking the switch on he found the kitchen completely cleaned down, a faint flower chemical scent tickled his nose. Looking around he continued to quietly stalk through the house, coming around to corner to see your body only barely through the darkness. Your body leaned over, your head turned to the side as you slouched over, your mouth wide open as he got closer to get a better look. But he figured you were like this because you had waited for him to get home. (Even though he didn’t need you to)

He remembered how difficult tonight was, he only wanted to get in and out of this one house. Before days ago you were telling him about how this one guy was talking shit about you. Telling your co-workers about how you did this and that and about fake rumours that seemed insane. But everyone believed it and after coming home distressed and crying he could only listen. Comforting you as you guys both watched a movie after, (attempting) to make some popcorn for the both of you while he snuggled into your embrace on the couch.

But he only wanted you to get his hands on that fucker. So what Michael thought would be an easy in-and-out kill turned into a mouse and cat chase. Who knew that idiot made him chase him through the neighbourhood. Eventually cornering him and brutally killing him, blood splattered all over his overalls and some on his mask. Leaving his mangled and unidentifiable body out for everyone to find.

“Michael…?“ He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard your soft voice ring out. You now sat up straight, trying to squint through the darkness to hopefully spot your boyfriend's figure. But his silent grunt gave it away. “What took you so long,” your feet scrambled to the floor as you quickly turned on the lights. The room sparked up with light and you saw him watching you, his shoulders shrugging in return. “Are you injured?” The smell of his overalls was unbearable and you held back the urge to pinch your nose as you walked closer. His head followed you as you got closer.

You let out a relieving sigh, smiling at him when he shook his head, but looking into the eye sockets of his mask you could only imagine what his eyes were saying. The way the light of the room couldn’t let you see what was hiding behind the mask was annoying to you. The thick tension between the two of you was comforting but awkward at the same time. Staring at him and hoping he’d do anything but instead the silence only grew louder. But out of the blue Michael’s head flicked over to the stairs, interacting he wanted to go to bed.

“Let me hug you.” You teased, smirking when he only looked at you, “Before we go to bed you need to hug me, Michael.” Hearing you call him by his first name was surprising to him but funny to you. You only called his first name if you only wanted him to get take you seriously or if you were in an argument. Only when you said his name was he just as confused. Seeing you stand there hands out slightly by your side as you waited for his body to collide into yours was disappointing.

But after some time Michael shuffled closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you closer into him. You breathed more slowly, your body melting more into him as every muscle lost its tension from before. Feeling the way he slowly eased into the huh, his fingers tightened around your skin. The ruff material didn’t stop him from imagining your soft and delicate skin. Your lips parted again as you pressed a kiss into his mask, the plastic material stopped him from feeling the kiss truly. But knowing when you guys got to bed he could fully understand how your lips would dance on his body. And with that he pulled away, his mouth forming a slight smile under his mask. Hoping you didn’t see it as you guided him to the stairs.

[buggyluv]

i want need a michael myers fanfic where like the reader is being taken away bcs everyone believes they are a victim but they are screaming to go back to michael and everyone is shocked, while Michael is slashing everyone to get his love

[yatoiii]

rz mikey myers

disclaimer: yeah, remember when I said I would post later today or tomorrow? yeah I lied, but here ig, also I haven't really watched the whole movie of Rob Zombie's Micheal Myers only a few clips, so this may not be really accurate

On the first few days or weeks of your... arrangement-? he's hesitant to show you his face, and honestly, he thought about murdering you just after a few days of staying with you but that thought quickly flew over his head. whenever you two ate he would pull his mask over his face and start eating, and whenever he slept he slept on the couch, your chair, or even the floor, he still had his mask on since he knew that you'd wake up in the dead of night to see what beauty he was hiding underneath that mask of his. but even if you did try he'd have you in a headlock if he felt the slightest change of air shift

speaking of sleeping, he didn't like sleeping with you on your bed just yet, especially if the layout of your room is similar to his back at the sanitarium, and I feel like he would be scared over the fact that he might roll over you and accidentally crush your spine <3

he doesn't know how to cook so he relies on you entirely to make the meals. side note, he loves those typical types of American breakfasts, like eggs sunny-side up, bacon, and pancakes or waffles;3. it reminds him a lot of those days when his mum would cook for the family before leaving for work.

if he's finished the food you left for him or you just forgot to cook for him entirely, don't be surprised if you come home with him rummaging through the pantry and your cupboards, and he will see your secret candy stash and he will get pissed about the fact that you didn't tell him about it.

I honestly feel/think that he would have really bad posture whenever he's doing his little arts and crafts session. (whenever he's making his masks) tease him about it and he'll get pissed.

he would buy a set of pajamas for the both of you, but he would buy a really big set so it could fit him, and he knows how much you adore oversized clothes so it's fine. he would wear the pants and you would wear the top of the pajamas.

[cannibal-witchh]

" Would you still love me?"

Pt. 1 Intro

Michael Myers x Fem Reader

Written by cannibal_witchh

Contains: Vulgar language, blood, slow burner maybe??

Notes: Hey, friends! This is the 1st part to my Michael Myers x Fem Reader. It will eventually become naughty so look out for the next few parts! It is also meant to be somewhat comical as well. Hopefully you guys like it. I also don't mind if you guys request things. I'd love to write more. 💖

The candles emanated a warm hue from the carved jack-o-lanterns that traced the yards of Lampkin Lane's houses. Decayed orange leaves blanketed over the dried lawns of every home. You shuttered as a gust of wind hit you, and leaves danced around you. "Geez...", you sighed crossing your arms to keep warm. Children's laughter scattered within the chill air as you could see costumed youth skipping and venturing door to door for candied spoils. You were headed back to your apartment, it was a rough day, and you wanted to immediately sleep it off. Hours of subjecting yourself to an underpaid office job was taxing you. Constant bickering from customers, constant counterproductive tasks you juggled, and elevating anxiety occupied today. Your office was on edge, today was the infamous holiday that left a staple to Haddonfield. The day The Boogeyman murdered numerous people and returned on multiple occasions to temporarily satiate his desire to play god. You were exhausted from hearing the legends of Michael Myers repeatedly within the month of October. Quite frankly, you didn't care, and you were tired of being fed the constant fearsome tales.

You finally managed to get to your apartment, it was nooked in the corner on Lampkin Lane, and it was a small collection fo apartments. Most people forgot it was even there, they were ancient, and mainly the elderly resided in it until they passed. You managed to inherit it from an uncle. And since the rent was so cheap you couldn't decline. You didn't care that this street was supposedly "haunted". You rummaged through your backpack to fish out your keys until you successfully retrieved them. Rain began to pour down on you, and thankfully, you manage to barely escape it and slip into your home.

You were drenched from just a brief moment of standing outside. You wiped your feet and kicked your shoes off. "Ugh, it's fucking cold.", you complained and headed to the bathroom to take a hot shower. About twenty minutes passed and you dressed yourself in some comfy clothes. A crop top under a cardigan, shorts, and some tall socks. You had no intentions of answering the door for any trick or treaters and you planned to keep your lights off to show it was unwanted. When you exited the bathroom, you noticed something particularly off. There was mud prints tarnished into your wooden floors, and some books toppled over onto your rug. " Oh for Christ's sake.", you sighed too tired to have any desire to tidy up the place. Your attention was interrupted as you heard your closet door shut gently. Fuck. Who the fuck was in your house? How long were they here? You were clever enough to resist announcing yourself presence. You tip toed to your kitchen to retrieve a kitchen knife and a frying pan for defense. Your heart loudly beating against your chest, your cheeks buzzing from fear. You made your way to your bedroom where a small night light was dimly turned on, illuminating items resting beside it, and stretching shadows along your wall. That absolutely confirmed another's presence was here. You heard shallow breathing from behind the closet door, and your heart dropped from your chest. Any courage you carried immediately dissolved within seconds. You weren't sure what to do, clearly who hid behind the door could see you. Your closet had the retro shutters and you could easily peak through. You froze, inaudible, immobile, and absolutely quivering from the fear that engulfed you. There was a few minutes of absolute piercing silence. The shallow breathing had ceased. Was the person injured? Did they just fucking die?

You finally built a small wall of courage, and ripped the door open. To your surprise a very tall man was sitting on your floor with his head tilted down. His large hand gripped a large tarnished kitchen blade. Blood staining the silver. His body gave no response to your sudden pulling of the door open. His head remained down. You gently brought the pan to his chin and lifted his head up. He was masked, and dressed in a tarnished and tattered boiler suit. Oh, shit. It was fucking Michael Myers. He still did not respond to your actions. " Michael?", you ignorantly voiced, taking a few steps back. Still nothing. What were you suppose to do in this situation? Michael was in your home, dressed in gore, and you knew cops were useless against his strength. There really didn't seem to leave many alternatives.

Two hours passed, it was completely dark outside and Halloween was close to drawing the curtains. Michael had began to take slow breaths within the time you spent cleaning up the gore and dirt he left around your home. You couldn't manage to remove him from the closet but you did take his knife away and store it in your kitchen. You went back into the bedroom to check if he was awake yet and he was now standing completely straight up looming out the window. "Michael?", you choked witnessing him slowly turn to you. " I dressed your wounds.", you pointed at his arms, bandaged tightly with blood seeping through the cloth. Michael tilted his head and examined his arms. He began to approach you and you took several steps back to maintain distance. " I didn't call the cops. I know its probably stupid of me. But...I know what your capable of...I didn't want to put more lives in danger.", you admitted drawing your eyes up to his. He took a deep muffled breath, and continued to approach you. Here it goes, your life was going to be collapsed at his hands. Your heroic decision to spare police officers' lives at the expense of your's. You looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. You froze yet again at the sight of The Shape. You felt his hands slowly wrap around your neck, and a firm grip began to close in on you. "Wait! Wait! Please! I'll let you stay here, I'll cook for you, shelter you, and I will keep you hidden!", with what little breath you had to spare, you bellowed out that proposition. Not even realizing what you said, you were just at a thread of desperation, seeking any option to free yourself from his grasp. To your disbelief, Michael released you, and his hand fell limp to his side. You greedily gasped for air, and even choked on it with how much you took in. " Thank you...thank you.", you wheezed falling to your knees. " Can we come agree to that, Michael?", you cleared your throat and straightened your posture. Michael nodded, and looked down at you. He was so tall, miles and miles of muscle built him. You couldn't help but briefly admire it. Maybe it was the near death expierencing talking. Maybe it was thankfulness, who knew. " So now that we've come to agree to this. I'm going to need you to clean yourself up. You absolutely stink and I can't have you tracking DNA all over my rug and furniture.", you tried your best to maintain a stern tone, and tried your best to show less fear. Just addressing his poor hygiene was enough to send you running out of your body if he was offended. Michael didn't seem to reject the demand, he slowly zipped his boiler suit, a dull tank top was underneath, tufts of chest hair teasing under, and defined muscle dressing his shoulders and arms. It was enough to make you grow a touch bashful. " You don't have to strip infront of me.", you hid your face and looked the other way. He ignored your comment and continued to strip. " You hear me?", you glanced over and he was shirtless and his boiler suit was to his ankles. You immediately shot your head away, you only got a glimpse of his bare chest. His chest was very toned, however, he had a little dad stomach. Still, that was right up your alley. "Woa, woah, geez. Ok follow me.", you continued to shield your eyes to avoid invading his modesty. Really, though, you felt like he had no consciousness of it being an issue. You led him to the bathroom, and explained how your shower operated. " I'm going to leave the door open in case you need me, okay?", half of your body was out of the door way and Michael ignored you and began to step into the shower. " Right, I fucking forgot. You're fucking the silent type.", you sarcastically said under your breath. Roughly fifteen minutes were exhausted, and the scent of feminine body wash filled the steamy air. It humored you to imagine a mass murderer getting sudsy with your girly soap. You felt a heavy daze drape over your eyes, and you began to slowly drift off. The distant sound of rain was making your eyes grow tired.

Roughly fifteen minutes past, and the sound of a twisted shower knob awoke you. The water stopped as you took a few seconds to rub the sleep out of your eyes. You blinked to adjust your eyes and there Michael was. Looming over you, and his head hanging down to you. Jesus, fucking creepy. He had your pink fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist, and his wet hair peaking from under his mask. "Hey.", you greeted with a monotone voice. " I put your clothes in the washer, it's probably going to need to go through a few cycles from the...you know. But I left my ex's clothes on my bed for you to try. I doubt it'll fit or be up your alley but -", before you could continue, Michael walked off to your room. " You're welcome!", you sarcastically chirped. You had to cope with your sarcasm, it felt like within hours your world was flipped around, you somehow become roommates with a mass murderer, and you practically became his accomplice.

Michael walked into the living room, to your surprise he didn't look half bad. He barely fit into a sleeveless black shirt, and he managed to slide into the tattered black jeans you laid for him. He looked strangely like a 70s dad with how the jeans hugged him. " Wow, Mikey.", you admired him for a brief second. What the fuck? Am I seriously checking out a guy who just tried to kill me a bit ago?

"Ok, we gotta lay down a few rules.", Michael tilted his head and you got a glimpse of a dull blue eye. A scar dragged across the skin surrounding it, leading you to believe he had an injury there. His pupil did not dilate or seem to focus on anything. Strangely, it was hauntingly charming. It almost seemed like there was still life in his dead eye. "I need you to not bring attention to my house. I've practically under some strange reason...decided to make you a house husband...so please...don't kill people or bring that shit in this house. I'm basically hiding you, clothing you, and feeding you. Can you please do that for me?", you twirled a strand of your loose hair and watched his other eye. It pierced into you, it felt just as if your soul was being pulled out of your body as you stared into his eye. Michael gave a soft nod and you didn't buy it but you were trying to hold down a glimpse of optimism.

To be continued...

[reiketsunomizunomegami]

Fluff Promt List #1💙"I Love You"

Michael Myers x Gender Neutral reader

Warning: None.. Just Fluff

You were one of his doctors and you grew more close to him every day and unexpectedly fell in Love with him

And Dr. Loomis doesn't liked that at all so Fired you because of it... Well Loomis was so crazy about Michael like he was so fascinated about him

So when you got fired you decided to settle on haddonfield because you were born there

And after a few months you got a news that Michael Myers has escaped from the mental/Hospital institution two days before the Halloween

You got worried about Michael so You decided to go and find him

After a couple of hours you disappointedly decided to go back into your house

And when you got back into your house, you felt someone moved inside

So you carefully moved slowly to find the source of the sudden noise and when you reach at the Kitchen you saw a masked Man standing in front of you holding a Kitchen Knife from your Kitchen

You're so terrified when you saw him so you run towards the front door and you can tell that thse was following you

When you about to open the front door someone slammed you to it that makes you slide down in pain

The Man Bend down and slowly held your cheek like he knows you before

Until he takes off his mask and that time you realize that it was Michael Myers.. He was here at your house in front of you

"What are you doing here?" You ask but Michael just tilt his head so you asked him again and you can hear that he mumble something that you couldn't hear clearly

So you asked him again and he suddenly grab your cheeks say "I Love You" He said in a serious tone

In Shocked you just Nod your head and hug him tightly

and from the day on you decided to keep him inside your house and protect him with your life....

[sleepingdeath-light]

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

[emxisms]

𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪.

(fem reader)

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Stu Macher, Thomas Hewitt, Tex Sawyer, Michael Myers.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence.

𝕭𝖔 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖗

Finds it incredibly attractive at the fact that you would risk your life just for him. He would 100% brag about it to everyone he knows. "My girl would actually kill for me."

Will help you take care of any wounds you may have gotten from the battle. He's got a lot of practice, and knows exactly what to do.

He would want to teach you all about how to defend yourself and him.

𝕾𝖙𝖚 𝕸𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗

He falls even more in love with you, knowing you'll do anything for him. He feels secure knowing that you support him and what he does.

So. Many. Kisses. The man cannot get enough of you. He thinks you look so beautiful, even when you're bloody. He thinks you look super hot covered in blood.

Begs you to help him and Billy with Ghostface. He totally understands if you don't want to, and how you only did what you did to keep him alive.

He will want every detail on how you felt when you did it. "Did you like it? How did you feel? Would you ever do it again?"

Wants to marry you. He thinks you're the perfect woman. Heaven sent.

𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝕳𝖊𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖙

Why? You didn't have to do that. You could've been hurt. He doesn't want his favorite person in any risk. Don't do it again.

He would freak out. He would think it's awesome how devoted you are to him. It's so reassuring to him, he never understood why you stayed with him. He thinks he's a beast, an awful human. He never thought he deserved you or your love, but you doing this silenced all of his thoughts.

Would never take you out of his sight again. He wont allow himself to let you get hurt, accidentally or purposefully. He hates seeing you in pain.

If Hoyt makes any remarks about how "You're stupid for putting your life at risk for such a waste of life" he would be on his feet in seconds. He can't stand him, and he draws the line at you. He refuses to let Hoyt touch you. Ever.

𝕿𝖊𝖝 𝕾𝖆𝖜𝖞𝖊𝖗

In awe. He swears he can never fall in love more than he already is, but it just keeps happening. He finally found a woman that isn't afraid of his lifestyle.

"Well, darlin' you've got me swept off my feet. You're jus' perfect."

Pulls you in for a million hugs and kisses. XOXO to the max. He tries to convince you to help with the family's routines / hunts, and completely melts if you agree.

Would jokingly ask you to do the same to Alfredo.

𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝕸𝖞𝖊𝖗𝖘

Not happy. He had it covered. Don't get yourself hurt because of him.

Throws you down and forces you to let him clean you up. Even though he's not happy that you risked your life, he still cares. He loves you, and will care for you.

He refuses to let you go out alone. He's scared you might get hurt again.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:☆

Requests are open! ☑️

(check pinned post).

[wwwbestgoredotcom]

Slashers with a s/o who owns a bakery

Warnings / murder mentions, fluff, short for most of them, suggestive themes (no smut)

Characters included / Thomas Hewitt, Micheal Myers, Billy lenz, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Candyman, Billy Loomis

Genre / fluff

Writing style / headcanons

Thomas Hewitt :

This man LIVES for your baked goods

You and his mother always cook together and he eats that shit up

When he puts you in his lap and you feed him cupcakes or spoonfuls of cake, he never let's you get up from his lap man

(He doesn't care how heavy you are, you are sitting on his lap)

Loves to cook with you

He'd be so greatful if help pay for their needs or feed them using your money

Scratch that bro he'd be BEYOND greatfull

Bandages you up when you burn or hurt yourself while baking

Micheal Myers :

Stands over you just watching you bake

Pushes the spoon away if you try to feed him

But after a couple tries he just accepts it at that point

Can't cook for the life of him

Won't admit it but he loves when you cook for him

Like for his birthday or a special occasion

Looks at you from outside of your shop window

(And nobody sees him for some reason??)

He got blood in batter of some cookies and he learned to never do that again

Billy Lenz :

Nah cuz this guy has the BIGGEST sweet tooth EVER

Begs you to make him sweets

Just pretend here he gets out of the attic

He sits on your lap and makes you feed him

Sits at your job all day until you leave (with him)

He sits on the counter in the kitchen and watches you bake

Gets hurt more than you when you accidently burn yourself

He compares your "sweetness" to your desserts

Ofc he makes it dirty

He steals sweets from you and your bakery all the time

Jason Voorhees :

He and his mom love your cooking so much

You two feed eachother all the time

Cupcakes are his favorite

In the au, your bakery is near the woods you two live in

He doesn't like you going away but he won't complain

Insists on helping you with the dishes after you're done baking

Hugs you from behind when you bake

He would help but he thinks he'll mess it up if he does

After stressing over the trespassers, the only thing that can calm him done is your baking

Bo Sinclair :

He goes to your job and starts flirting with you as if you two aren't dating

Like Billy, he also makes it dirty

"'Stead of 'em pastries ya make everyday, how 'bout I have you fer dessert 'is time" along with a wink

Unlike the others, he laughs at you when you hurt yourself

Then when you cry he actually starts to care

Buys you the products you need

"Why're ya makin' another cake? Ya a'ready got enough in tha back" also followed by a wink and an ass slap

Like I said, makes it dirty

He overall loves you baking

Candyman :

In this au, he lives with you and not in a mirror

Helps you bake everytime

For your birthdays and other occasions, he bakes instead of you

While you two wait for whatever dessert you're making to bake, he showers you in kisses, hugs, and slow dances with you

Praises you every time

If you wear an apron, he ties it for you and when he's done he gives you a neck kiss

Thinks his bees and hook get in the way when you're cooking but you shut that down pretty quickly

He feeds you and kisses you after each bite

Billy Loomis :

He smugges some ingredients (cream, frosting, etc) on your face

He does it so he can kiss/lick it off of you

Visits you at your job

Mainly visits you when it's near your break time

Last time he helped you bake, he burnt the dessert so uh never again

He just sits there lookin pretty watching you bake

One time for his birthday you made him a horror themed cake and when you cut it, red jam spills out the center like blood

He fell in love with you that same day

[msneedful-ispleaseful]

Eat up!

Haven't fed you guys since October sorry, I'm at a creative block any requests send em in lol enjoy this blurb.

Brahms was pressed firmly against the stone-cold wall, staring intensively through the small peephole he had created in the wall. His breathing was shallow as he slowly palmed his aching cock through his pants, it was so hard that it strained even in his loose joggers. He shakily sighed, fighting back pitiful moans as he stared at your sleeping form.

Sometimes Brahms wondered if you knew he loved to peer through the walls of the old house and watch you sleep. Maybe that's why you were wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt and white lacy panties, looking oh so saintly.

Laying on your stomach with one leg bent gave him the perfect view of your ass and a teasing glance at your overflowingly fat pussy lips. Your sleeping form was practically begging him to come have his way with you. Brahms was desperate to touch you in the ways he often imagined, to explore your body and show you exactly who it belonged to.

Brahms started to undo his belt when you let out a soft moan in your sleep. Immediately, his eyes snapped back to the small hole in the wall to peer at you once more, wondering if you had awoke. His nails dug into the wood inside the wall as he watched you hungrily. he could hear the sheets ruffle as you rolled onto your back.

"Mmmm, Brahms."

The way you moaned his name in your sleep was disgustingly pornographic. Brahms could feel any restraint he may have had left crumble to the ground just like his belt. It was obvious you were dreaming about him, just as desperate for him as he was for you.

As quietly as he could, Brahms snuck his way into your room, careful to not wake you. There was something about the innocence and vulnerability of your sleeping that he didn't want to miss the chance of taking advantage of.

You hadn't stirred since you had moaned so prettily for him, so he was confident you were still sound asleep. At first, he just stood over you, admiring you up close, but it didn't take long for his aching cock to remind him why he was in your room.

Carefully, he traced his hand up your thigh to the swell of your ass, testing the waters. His touch was feather light to not wake you. However, when you didn't flinch he grew more confident. This time his hand trailed lightly up your side, sneaking up under your shirt. Ever so carefully, he bunched up the thin cotton until your breasts were exposed to him. Without the thin barrier to keep them warm, your nipples hardened and so did Brahms's cock. He let out a small whimper at the sight of you being exposed to him, luckily you didn't wake.

Brahms fingers continued up your sides until he reached your breasts and he began gently tracing your hard nipples. Without any restraint left, he caved and took your hard nipple into his warm mouth. He traced the hard peak with his tongue and then began gently sucking as his hand began pinching at your other.

You let out a soft moan and Brahms froze, pulling away from you. He waited until you settled once more before he continued. This time he trailed his way down to your pussy, finger gently tracing your folds through the lacy material of your panties. He could feel that you were wet and that only fueled his arousal.

Trying his best to hold back his heavy breaths, he carefully moved your panties to the side to reveal your wet pussy to him. He gently pushed a finger between your folds, collecting some of the wetness there before carefully circling your clit.

Your legs parted more as you stirred and let out another soft moan, but still you continued to sleep. Brahms kept running a finger through your folds before slowly and gently easing a single finger into you. You were so wet it sunk inside of you easily and Brahms moaned as he felt your warm walls. He no longer cared if he woke you as he added another finger and began pumping them in and out of you rapidly. The wet sounds your pussy made around his fingers caused him to let out a desperate whimper.

This time your moan was louder and Brahms could feel you tense as you woke up to the sight of him between your legs. "Brahms," you moaned out, "what are you doing?"

"Please," he begged, "please let me y/n. I promise I'll make you feel good. I promise I'll be a good boy." His voice was shrill as he begged, and you weren't awake enough to decide whether this was right or wrong. Instead you simply gave into the pleasure and let Brahms continue what he was doing. You were so shocked at his bold acts of touching you. You of all people knew that brahms lacked proper social skills and physical boundaries but, touching your sleeping form was entirely new.

Soon enough his tongue joined his fingers and began circling your clit as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. He moaned as he tasted your dripping pussy, eating you out like he was a starved man. Alternating between licking and sucking, Brahms abused your clit until he had you singing his name. Looking down at him, you realized his entire face was exposed to you. He glanced up and the two of you made eye contact as he savored your pussy juice, it was a daringly wrong sight to see.

"Am I doing a good job, y/n? Am I being a good boy?"

You let out a loud moan as you felt your climax building, your hips grinding down against Brahms' face. "Fuck! Yes, Honey! you're doing a good job. Such a good boy for me."

Brahms ministrations didn't stop even once you had finished. His tongue continued to suck at your overstimulated clit. Grabbing his hair, you had to practically pry him away from your pussy and he whimpered as you did. His hips thrust against the bed and you noticed he was still rock hard inside of his pants.

Guiding him on top of you, you pulled his face towards yours, kissing him softly despite the aching need for him. He kissed you back eagerly, and you could taste your release on his tongue. "Come one, take what you need brahmsy"

[cherricolaaa]

Ofc I find him attractive....

[slasherfckr]

🔪💀Slashers and their favorite Kinks (With an implied female S/O) -NSFW💀🔪

Characters: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire

⚠️Warnings⚠️- Mentions of Blood/Blood play along with knife play as well as alluding to pregnancy/a breeding kink, Sex (Vaginal), and masturbation

............................

Michael Myers

Not surprising at all that he's big into blood and knife play 🔪🩸

Dude is also a huge sadist (obviously) but also a little bit of a masochist as well

If you're fine with it, he'll slice you a little on a breast and start licking and sucking the mess up. Don't worry, he won't leave too bad of a wound. He wants you around after all

Once he 100% trusts you and then some, he'll give you his knife and let you cut into him a little. If you're not comfortable with the knife being used at all on either of you, that's fine with him. He's more into the blood play anyways

He comes home bloodier than usual so he can smear it all over your face. The crimson of the blood matches your eye color so well. Drives him absolutely mad

Jason Voorhees

Baby boy absolutely has a praise kink

Please tell him if he's doing a good job eating you out or if his cock is filling you nicely 🥺 He not only needs the reassurance but the praises will absolutely make him pick up the pace

But not too fast unless you're begging him. He's got a good size difference on you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt you

Jason will absolutely NOT tolerate anything to do with blood during sex or humiliation. So don't ask him.

Thomas Hewitt

Two words: BREEDING 👏KINK👏

Just seeing you do anything around the Hewitt residence turns him on immediately

Unless you say otherwise, this man will always fill up your tight little pussy with his seed

He's trying to knock you up on purpose. Family is most important to him after all

If you beg him to put a baby in you during sex, Thomas will not be able to control himself

Normally he wouldn't go so hard and fast into you but just thinking about you carrying his child makes his mind go numb 🥵

If he does go too hard or fast for you and you do ask him to tone it down a bit, he immediately will.

Brahms Heelshire

You'd think this special, stinky, wall hobo wouldn't have any kinks or anything due to having to hide out in the walls for most of his life but nope. He's got quite a few kinks 😉

His biggest being a spanking kink

He'll literally go out of his way just to annoy you until you get fed up and have to punish him

He also absolutely loves being tied up and being denied a release until you decide when enough is enough (which is usually after you've had a few orgasms yourself)

But oh boy. When you decide you wanna do both at once, though

You'll have his arms tied up over his head so he can't do anything but just lay there as you take his huge cock into your seeping, wet hole. Moving your gorgeous hips in just the right way as you spank his thighs

Everytime he gets close to a release, you stop and hop off him. You sit at the end of the bed and let him watch as you bring yourself to your release

He's pleading with you during the entire time for you to get back on him so he can make the both of you feel good with his cock

"Please (Y/N), please.... I'll be good....I swear"

.................................

👀 I think I may have gone a little overboard with Brahms' one. Oh well. Might do a second part with the Sinclair Twins, Harry Warden and some other slashers if this is well received enough.

[markhoffmans-certified-slut]

The Slashers Reacting to you Drunk Texting Them

Pairing: Slasher Men x f!reader

Notes: I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter!

Characters in this chapter include: Art, Billy, Stu, Brahms, Corey, Dennis, Mark, Michael, and Pinhead.

You can find the other chapters I’ve written and will continue writing for the texting series here!

<>~<>~<>

[megangovier]

Two Is Better Than One

Pairing: Michael Myers x fem! reader x ghost face

Summary: You're at home alone on the bed, listening to your spicy playlist. Frustrated you put a pillow on the bed and started to grind on it, not knowing two men in halloween masks were staring at you through the window.

CW: 18+ only | Grinding | peeping Tom's | oral m&f receiving | manhandling | degrading & praising | spit roasting | Choking | dubcon | mentions of slut, cunt | Minors Do Not Interact!

No mention of y/n

Michael talks in this fic!

WC: 959

Friday has come round once again and you can't wait to get home from work, everyone was stressing you out and nagging in your ear especially impatient bosses who orders you around all day and not an ounce of appreciation or something that makes you feel like you're good at what you do.

That's not just the problem, you've been frustrated in the bedroom for a few months and can't take it anymore so when you step inside your flat you're going to have a relaxing bath, with scented candles and roses with a glass of red wine and calming music. Even thinking about being in that bath makes you feel more relaxed in your office chair.

Looking at the time on your phone it read "18:00" a smile appeared on your face "finally, time for the relaxation i deserved" as you stood up from the chair and quickly packed your things away, a knock on the door took you out your good mood "come in.." as the door opened an intoxicating smell smacked you in the nose, turning your head heat crawled up your neck a gorgeous man stepped into your office.

"Evening ma'am, I know you were on your way out to head home but I was wondering if you're doing anything tomorrow night? me and the guys are going for a celebration drink". As you thought about it you agreed and he wrote down the time and his number.

As you locked the office door and headed out to your car, a strange feeling washed over you like you were being watched. As you looked both ways you couldn't see anyone shrugging your shoulders, you put the stuff at the back and got in your car driving away.

Putting Bluetooth on connecting your phone to the radio, slowed down spicy songs came on making your face flushed and a pool started to form between your legs making you whimper "I've got to stop doing this, clearly making things worse for myself" you honestly couldn't wait to get home and have that bath of yours with a nice large glass of red wine for the evening.

A sigh of relief left your lips, you've finally got home. Closing the door behind you putting the bag down beside your draw you ran upstairs and walked into the bathroom, thank god you took the candles and roses out earlier that morning. Putting the taps on you poured lavender and rose body wash in. Walking downstairs to get a bottle of red wine you head back up and turn the taps off.

Taking your clothes off you slip into the bath and relax for two hours. After you were relaxed enough you got out, dried and sprayed fragrance on your wrist, neck and behind ears. Closing the door behind you heading towards the closet you take out thigh high socks, black panties and oversized hoodie. Now in your PJ's you connected your phone to the Bluetooth once again that evening.

As the pool started to grow once again between your legs, you grabbed the closest pillow and planted it on the bed grinding against it. Cute whimpers left your lips. As you were slowly getting to your climax two masked men were peeping through the window getting hard themselves, Ghost Face slipped his latex gloved hand over his bulge "She's fucking begging for it".. Michael was needing a release.

As Michael and Ghost face forced themselves inside your room a squeal left your throat, as you were about to get up Michael forced you back down on your bed closing your legs. Michael grabbed your thighs and opened them "Don't try hiding it from us sweet thing, we know what you were doing. Heat ran up your neck.

Ghost face was salivating, he wanted to know what you tasted like. Michael moved away from you and unzipped his boiler suit, out sprund an 8 inch throbbing cock. As Michael slammed himself into your tight throat, Ghost face slipped his mask up over his nose and got between your thighs heat radiating off your core.

"What a naughty little pathetic slut you're, getting off on this!.." as he grabbed your thighs and started to kiss up a moan left your throat causing Michael to growl "Fuck, just like that princess!" As he fully grabbed your thighs his head went down to devour the needy cunt of yours.

Grabbing the sheets, eyes rolling back a grumbling moan escaped your throat. Michael slipped a hand around your throat making you squirm "Close princess"? Ghost face said.

As Michael growled he painted your throat white, you exploded over ghost face's mask.

As Michael and ghost face repositioned themselves, Michael was behind you positioning himself between your wet lips while ghost face had your throat "open up slut, I know you can take both of us at the same fucking time" as you opened your pretty mouth for him he slammed himself into you. Michael slammed into you from behind, clenching around his cock he grabbed your hair and growled in your ear "Good girl, taking us both so well".

Ghost face took his cock out your mouth "open up wider baby" as you did what he said, he grabbed your face and spat into it "back in now baby" Michael was pounding you faster now making your eyes roll at the back of your head.

Clenching around him, Michael slipped his hand around your neck and rammed you harder making your body overcome with pleasure "come on baby, come on this cock!" As you did your mouth was moving faster on ghost face's cock "holy fuck, keep doing that and I'm going to come" as you did him and Michael exploded in your holes.

@toxicanonymity @michaelmyers-isdaddy

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐸𝓃𝒹𝓈

Featuring: Michael Myers

Word Count: 3k 

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, unprotected sex (don’t do it, kids), basically just 3k of smut, probably ooc but y’all didn’t come here for accuracy, no verbal consent but y/n is into it, size difference, rip that pussy, rough sex, biting, fingering, blood mention, little to no prep, yeah just general nastiness :), proofread and edited but also probably some mistakes bc i am human

-

By the time you got home it was nearly two in the morning. Despite your insistence that you were fine, you wound up in the hospital, treated for your minor cuts and bruises. The entire time you were there the man that had interrupted you made conversation. From what he told you, the man you’d come into contact with that night was nothing short of evil, and he’d never seen anybody come that close to him without dying in the process. You also found out he was once his psychiatrist, which you thought was laughable. He sure did a bang-up job didn’t he? Regardless, Dr. Loomis was nice enough, despite his ominous warnings. 

You weren’t quite sure what to do with his information in the first place—you were certainly glad to still be on this plane of existence, but why were you the exception? What part of you intrigued him, and what would happen if you were to meet again? 

You let out a sigh, finally collapsing onto your bed after a long shower. Your skin was still moist, and you shivered in the open air. You couldn’t find the energy to do anything but lay there, still wrapped in your towel as you dampened the sheets. You thought about falling asleep just like that, but irrational fears of something crawling where it didn’t belong stopped you. You let out a huff. 

You lived alone despite your age, and found it quite nice most of the time. Tonight, though? You weren’t sure. It would be nice to talk to someone. 

You turned on your side, hands tucked against your face as you stared out the window. You could see the darkened front yard, street lights buzzing with soft light. 

Despite all that had happened, you couldn’t sleep. Your eyes refused to close, and you weren’t sure how long you laid there before finally sitting up, towel slipping off of you as you stared at your closet. You should get dressed, you told yourself, instead of sitting naked as you let your thoughts wander. 

Finally making a decision, you slipped off your bed and out of your towel, padding to your closet. You opened it, eyes scanning in the darkened room to find something to put on. You reached forward to grab a shirt off its hanger, hand resting against the fabric. 

The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up. You felt exposed, and slowly turned around to find out what had spooked you.

You shouldn’t have been surprised at who you saw standing outside your window. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You shut it again, grabbing the shirt and sliding it on, the bagginess barely covering your bare thighs.

You stared into the black voids of the masked man’s face. Michael’s face. He had returned. You didn’t bother to think about how he’d found your house. It was inevitable. 

Your heart rate accelerated with each step you took, cautiously approaching the shape at the window. With a shaking hand, you reached out, fingers gripping the window’s edge. Giving it a tug, you pulled it up just enough to feel the cool air wisp against your thighs. A flimsy screen flexed inwards with the wind. You stepped back again, taking a seat on the side of your bed. 

“Here to finish me off?” you questioned, arms crossing in front of your chest. “Couldn’t even give me a night’s rest, huh?”

He didn’t reply. You huffed.

“Your doctor told me about you, Michael,” you continued, elbows moving to rest on your knees as you leaned forward. Your fingers rested against your chin. “He says you’re evil. That you can’t be saved.” You scoffed. “Sounds like a pretty shitty doctor to me.” 

You shook your head. “You were how old when he started taking care of you? Seems like he just dropped the ball. But still. I guess you did try to kill me. So I can’t exactly argue with him.”

You weren’t sure why you felt so compelled to chat with the man lurking outside, but you supposed anything was better than being alone. Well, maybe anything. You still didn’t know where he fell on that scale. You might die tonight. Again. 

You let out a yawn despite your rapid pulse and the adrenaline flowing through your veins. Your body was tired of fighting or flighting. It was time to sleep. You closed your eyes, neck stretching towards the ceiling. A satisfying crack along with your muscles relaxing let you know you’d stretched enough, and you returned to stare out the window. He was gone.

You blinked. That wasn’t good.

You stood up, slamming the window shut once more before turning on your heels. Did you lock the door? The gentle creaking of hinges let you know your answer. Two heavy footsteps sounded at the entryway. 

You clicked your tongue, eyes scanning your room for a hiding spot before you nestled inside your closet, closing the sliding doors in front of you as you slid down. 

Was this a shitty hiding spot? Yes. But god-damn-it you were tired. You really didn’t want to deal with this shit again.

You held your breath, hands clasped over your mouth as you listened. Every creek of the floor let you know he was closing in. You had nowhere to go. Nothing to defend yourself. Hell, you didn’t even have any pants on. You were literally caught with your pants down and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. 

You supposed it’s what you deserved for your earlier actions—getting frisky with a killer wasn’t exactly a smart decision. Still, you couldn’t help but let out a silent laugh. This was all ridiculous. Some Halloween this turned out to be.

You hushed your thoughts when the door to your room opened, and from your position on the floor you watched as a shadow cast itself across the floor. The large and imposing figure stepped inside. You held your knees against your chest, praying he wasn’t sane enough to check the only hiding spot in the room. You heard the metallic tap of a blade against the closet doors. Oh, lovely. He still had enough of a mind to check the closet. 

You knew if you sat here you were dead. Your hands fumbled in the darkness for something to grasp onto but all you felt were clothes. What a surprise. 

Still, you prepared yourself, getting on your knees and waiting to launch yourself forwards. With each passing second your pulse quickened. You knew he knew you were in here. Why wasn’t he opening the door?

You bit your lip. Was he waiting for you to come to him? To open the door only to be met with a knife to the chest? You were lost. Should you. . . ?

Your fingers brushed against the wood, finding the small slit between the two doors. You inched forwards out of the corner, eye peering out. You didn’t see him. 

You pulled backwards, tilting your head in confusion. This was a trap. You knew it was. So why were you so tempted to push the doors open?

Despite your brain screaming at you to stop, your fingers slipped outside, and you yanked the closet open, shooting up and out to press yourself against the nearest wall. 

Your eyes hurriedly scanned the room. Your door was wide open, but there was nobody there. Were you just going crazy? Seeing things? Where in the hell did he go?

Your shoulders relaxed and you rested a hand against your forehead. You could have sworn he was here somewhere. It didn’t make sense.

Irritated, you walked over to your wide open door, grabbing the handle before slamming it closed. That’s when you saw him, body formerly hidden behind your door now fully upright and ready to strike.

You couldn’t even scream, backing up until the back of your knees hit the foot of your bed. You stared in shock, hands balling up the fabric of your shirt. 

“At least I’m not crazy,” you whimpered, back arching in a futile attempt to get further away as he slowly lumbered towards you. Each step sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You were stuck like a rabbit in a snare. A feeling of deja vu washed over you. Would you be so lucky a second time?

You spotted the large kitchen knife clutched in his hand, the other hanging loosely at his side. Probably not. 

You held your breath, chest ceasing its frantic movements. 

You watched, speechless, as he rose the knife higher and higher, catching the light outside and glinting menacingly. You forced your eyes to stay open, teeth biting your lip so hard you tasted blood. 

The knife came down swiftly, impaling itself onto your bed frame. You stared, looking at the blade lodged in the wooden surface.

You turned your attention back to Michael, who was now hovering so close that you could feel your breath fanning off of his mask. You collapsed onto your bed as a large hand pushed against your sternum, forcing you against your sheets. 

If he wasn’t going to kill you. . . what was going to happen tonight? Your bare thighs smushed against each other as your hands gripped the edge of your bed. Was he trying to finish what he started in the kitchen. . . ?

His hands gripped both of your thighs, leaving you to let out a gasp as he shoved them uncomfortably far apart. There were no clothes to hide under this time. 

He stared, head tilted down as his fingers dug into your soft flesh. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. What was he doing? And why? You tried in vain to ease your thighs closer together, but he didn’t budge. 

“Have. . .” you whispered cautiously, “Have you done this before?” 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized he’d probably never seen this part of somebody so intimately before. He’d been in a mental hospital for all of his adult life. And you were fairly certain they didn’t give out porn-o mags to the criminally insane. 

There was something hilarious about this situation. He broke into your house, had you in his grasp, and was now. . . stumped? He seemed perfectly capable earlier, but you supposed it was different now that you were fully on display and there were certain to be no interruptions. 

He didn’t respond to your question—obviously—but he did tilt his head ever-so-slightly. If you could see his eyes, you imagined they’d be narrowed in concentration.

You moved to speak again, but any words were knocked from your throat as you were pulled harshly against his torso, one hand gripped tightly on your hip underneath your thin shirt as the other snaked up your thigh. A switch had been flipped, it seemed, and with no hesitation his large index finger thrust inside of you. 

You let out a gasp of surprise, cunt clenching around the intrusion. You didn’t have time to think before his digit pulled out and plunged back in, and you squirmed in an attempt to ease the sting. It’s not like you hadn’t done this before, but normally you get a little warning before being finger-fucked. 

His grip on your hip forced you still, and you froze, feeling his nails press threateningly against your flesh. He had no patience for you, it seemed. Every push and pull was exploratory, feeling the sponginess of your walls twitching with every movement. It was not unlike the violent pulsing of an open wound, but this was more. . . sensual. That same blood-lust that consumed him built, but this time with a different intent. He wanted to feel more. See more. Witness what you looked like squirming underneath his grip. Not pleading to stop, pleading for mercy, but pleading for more. He wanted you in a way so foreign to him and yet so achingly familiar. 

Your fists gripped the sheets, gasping and breathless as he fit another finger inside of you. They split apart, scissoring you open. You bit back a moan before it was forced out when a thumb brushed against your clit.

Your back arched, trying to meet his hand uselessly. The hand underneath your shirt moved from your hip to press firmly against your stomach. He pinned you against your bed hard enough to knock the breath out of you. This was not your experience to control. 

His fingers continued, forcing themselves as deep as they could go, twisting to feel everything. Every pulsing surface that writhed around him spurred him to go faster. 

You were a mess, your pussy throbbing as it took in his fingers over and over. You could only watch as they appeared and disappeared, each time thrusting deep enough to have you clenching around him. 

The sounds of your slick walls echoed in the dark room, making you close your eyes in embarrassment. They didn’t stay that way for long, however, flying open when his hands left your body, instead fixated on pulling down the zipper on his jumpsuit. 

You took the moment of freedom to scurry backwards until you rested on the bed fully. Your legs ached from being pressed against the side of the mattress, thighs already marked with the indents of large hands overtaking your skin. 

Each breath you took was shallow, and you fought to catch your breath. Before you knew it, though, he gripped your ankles, yanking you back until you hung halfway off the bed. You stared at him, mask still on but jumpsuit now halfway off, the dirty shirt underneath doing little to hide the solid rise and fall of his broad chest. You wondered if he’d ever take his mask off. It was ironic—refusing to show his face even during a time like this.

He was still so calm, even as his fingers raked against your leg to find a grip on the meat of your thighs. His other hand slipped past the waist-line of his boxers, and even through the dark cloth you could tell you were in for it. You may have done this before, but—a sudden vision of splitting in half filled your head. If you thought his fingers had you writhing—you watched with bated breath as he grabbed his dick, hand wrapped around the base firmly. You didn’t have time to process just how something that big would fit inside of you before he had already rested himself against your entrance. Suddenly, getting fucked by a murderer didn’t seem like such a good idea. 

“Michael,” you whimpered, “please be—” you cut yourself off with a scream, cunt stretched and stinging as he thrust inside of you. His hand on your thigh pulled you flush against him, leaving no room to arch away from the intrusion nestled all the way inside of you. Tears filled your eyes. Your hands reached to pry away the hand on your thigh keeping him shoved inside of you, but you were met with his now-free hand gripping both of your wrists, pinning them above your head effortlessly. 

“It—it doesn’t fit,” you whined, every breath stinging as you tried desperately to relax yourself around him. 

At your words he tilted his head, looking from your stuffed cunt to your teary face as if to refute your point. It fit just right. There was no space left, and your tightness surrounding him only encouraged him to begin to move. Your body relaxed when his cock receded, but it was short lived. As soon as you felt only the tip nestled inside of you, his entire dick was back, slamming into you so hard your thighs jiggled with the impact.

You let out a cry which morphed into a moan when he once again pulled out only to shove himself into your aching cunt. 

The stretch burned, but that pain quickly became your dopamine. Your walls were wet, providing easy lubricant for the massive dick with now thrust in and out hurriedly. He was rhythmic yet unpredictable, never hitting the exact same spot twice. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the speed he was keeping up, hands now limp in his grasp as you pressed the side of your face into your blankets. You did nothing, all your effort concentrated in not letting out another sound slip from your mouth. You didn’t know how to feel. This was wrong—stretched over a killer’s cock as you tried desperately not to moan his name. The name of the man who tried to stab you, choke you, snuff you out mere hours ago. 

You didn’t care. It didn’t matter, you told yourself. It wasn’t like you were dating the guy, just getting your brains fucked out of you. Did that make it better? No, probably not.

Still, there was no denying your ever-approaching release, and with energy you didn’t know you still had you weakly bucked your hips forward, only to have them thrust back as he drilled himself into you once again. He was too caught up in his own moment. He stared at your face from behind the mask, taking in every detail of your exhausted expression. You fought to keep your eyes open, mouth permanently open as breathless moans escaped you. You did this to him. Had him confused. You were the one to blame for the feeling in his chest and the hardness splitting you open. It was your actions that night. You puzzled him. Intrigued him. Had him picturing vulgar situations he hadn’t thought about since puberty. He’d never needed something like this before. Why now? Why you? Why did you do this to him?

It didn’t matter.

Once this was over he’d move on, kill you and get on with his life. This meant nothing. Was nothing. Just something he needed to get over with before slaughtering another victim.

A new feeling pulled him from his thoughts. He felt a pressure, like a heart about to burst open, and with every shove of his dick inside of your slick walls it increased. He chased the pressure. He pressed harder, deeper into you, hand on your thigh gripping so tight he saw blood begin to trickle from beneath his fingernails.

You winced at the pain, but it was so distant, so muted compared to the undulating pleasure stirring inside of you. Your entire lower half was almost numb, body trying desperately to soothe the piercing pain of his dick splintering you. It worked for the most part, but now you wanted more. Needed more. It suddenly wasn’t enough.

You let out a whine. “More,” you mewled, eyes clenched shut as you chased that familiar feeling.

The hand on your thigh vanished, only to reappear, gripping your ass and forcing your body to match his excruciating pace. You knew he was close, pace ramping up even more, becoming more random, needy, like he was trying anything in a desperate attempt to relieve himself. 

You managed to slip out of the grip holding your wrists, leaning upwards to wrap your hands around his neck. The position was different, allowing him to hit a different part of you—the spot you needed. Your head rested against his shoulder, letting out a whimper that turned into a moan as you finally hit your high, teeth biting harshly into the fabric of his shirt to muffle yourself. 

Your walls clenched harshly, clamping down around his dick, triggering his own release. You could feel every spasm as he came inside of you, mixing with your own cum to seep out of your filled cunt. Even after your orgasm washed over you, his continued, leaving you to gasp in over-stimulation. By the time he finally finished, a small puddle of cum had collected on the blankets. You could only stare, still pressed against him, as he pulled out, only to collect the spilled juices with his fingers, pressing them inside of you. You bit back a whine, watching as your cunt leaked with the white substance. You suddenly felt disgusting—every part of you was unclean. You supposed getting fucked by a murderer will do that to you.

Your eyes suddenly shot open, and you pulled swiftly away from him, crawling backwards until your head hit your headboard. What now? You served your purpose. Was he going to. . .

You watched as he tucked himself back into his underwear before re-zipping his jumpsuit. You noted the red splotch on the shoulder of his t-shirt. Where you bit him. You stifled a laugh. At least you left your mark. 

He turned his head to stare at the knife still embedded in your bed frame, ripping it back into his grasp with one fluid motion. You prepared yourself to run despite your exhaustion.

He stared at you, knife hanging at his side. He tilted his head, as if debating something, before finally turning on his heels and walking slowly out of your bedroom.

You could only watch as he walked down the hallway and out of sight. You heard the closing of a door.

He let you live. Again.

You let out a sigh, head limp against your headboard. You couldn’t bring yourself to move. “This is my life now, huh?” you muttered, looking down at the bruises and red stains on your thighs. “I guess that’s one way to spend Halloween.” 

[itsfuntobeavampiree]

Slashers eating you out

Female reader

Contains: Vincent sinclair, Jason voorhees, Michael myers

To those two people I will do your submissions I promise I'm just writing so much rn and I just keep on forgetting to finish them <3

Warnings: cunniligus, squirt, Michael being an oldie and forgets woman aren't objects.

Where do I start!?!? This man is an angel truly, I mean you knew he was good with his hands but his tongue? He's more than talented at using that.

He'd lay pillows down for you so your comfortable while he's going at it. Princess treatment all the way.

KNOWS WHERE IT IS🗣

He loves to hear your pleads and whimpers while he sucks at your clit. Makes him cream his pants

When you insist to help him out aswell he shakes his head and shoves you back down. This is YOUR night, your pleasure is the only thing he cares about

You squirt girl? Dw he catching that shit in his mouth and staring right at ya with his gorgeous eye.

Would knead your thighs as he covers his face with your pussy. He lovesss the way you taste baby

He doesn't care whether it's shaved or not down their. He just loves himself a pussy. Don't be insecure my 70s Bush gang!

And by the end of the night he's cleaning you up, hydrating you and making sure your nice and cozy.

Hey...wondering if he's up for it tomorrow aswell.

Bit nervous about it,like 'w-where...where my tongue go' he's a lil confused but if you guide him he'll sure get it. He's a quick learner after all.

He...he doesn't know where it is, he'll be rubbing the inside of your thigh😭 poor baby. He'd never seen a vagina before so could you really blame him?

He doesn't care about it being shaved or not. Whatever your vagina looks like is normal to him

After he gets a hang of it he never wants to stop, your moans are music to his ears. Whenever he has free time I can guarantee you that he's latched to your cunt for hours on end.

He was taking back when you had a squirting orgasm, you hid your face in your hands out of embarrassment but he licked the juices that had splattered on your thighs and if he's honest with you....he'd love if you did that again baby.

Sit.on.his.face. SIT ON IT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! If you nervously hover over his face to scared to actually put your weight on him he'd pull you down himself and hold you there.

He'd generally BEG to eat you out every night. Your just so delicious to him.

After he finishes he'll try and wipe you with a cloth and just cuddle up. Even if you do need to pee.

Unfortunately you are gonna have to beg this man and he'll still say no after the hundredth time.

He's that type that thinks it's 'gay' to eat a woman out. He thinks you gotta be a right old sissy to be wanting to do that but he won't hesitate to choke you down on his dick tho.

When you've managed to convince him he's gonna think it's gonna be the worst think ever cos he's getting no pleasure! But after feeling you squirm and whimper out his name he's pinning you down whenever there's a chance and just starts eating away.

Do not tease him about how he'd make sure your comfortable and everything because he will reck you. Legitimately.

When you first had a female ejaculation he'd growl and wipe it away but he's secretly enjoying it. Might just 'accidentally' open his mouth while you squirt and taste your juices.

Ofc he knows where it is! But just incase...show him.

Sorry but he's also gonna need some sort of relief so uh...open wide!

Probably would enjoy the 69 position, he gets off aswell and also gets to taste all your juices!

He might prefer if your shaved cos I doubt he enjoys finding a pube in his mouth but now he nows how it feels when you suck off his untamed fucking beast.

*throws a towel and proceeds to walk away*

He's not an aftercare kinda guy but if you're truly sore and achy he'll clean you up, throw some pants at you and let's you lie in bed.