#slasher scenarios

[scuddisher]

FATE UP AGAINST YOUR WILL

Thrown into Michael's room without supervision, he uses you for his desires—and uses more of you to his benefit.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT (18+) PAIRING — rz! michael myers x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — full fic, thriller, smut, sanitarium! au WORD COUNT — 3.3k WARNINGS — dark! & predator! michael (obviously), intense situations, choking, partial language, some objectifying tones SMUT WARNINGS — labeling this as dub-con (although consent is given) bc it can be taken either way, dom/sub tones, oral (michael receiving) turned skullfuck, force is used, gagging, cum-play & swallowing, sweaty michael, drooling, masturbation (reader), michael’s bde is real! RELEASE DATE — JAN 17TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — not another one of my fucking dreams making me want to write it out as a smut…i did it anyways lmao. this is literally just pure filth with a base-line plot, enjoy <3 i might make this into a series of segments of rz! michael x reader going insane for each other if this is received well, so please share your thoughts about that to me!!! this is roughly edited btw

NAVIGATION | SLASHERS MLIST & RECS

The sudden sound of the door's lock clicking startled you back into your senses. What had occurred that day had only felt like your imagination, words passed back and forth between doctors and guards.

It seemed unbelievable, a program that places yourself into the space of the quietest, most reserved and silently possessive man in the entire block.

"Although the accounted for are considered lesser of outside human beings—" The paper-written words made your ears ache with every syllable spoken. "—it is still within their right to be given time to consult one another. Our program places those most threatening with those of small cases in order to give a natural exchange that those in the common world deal with on a daily basis."

It was all a ruse to please the government—a stamp given to the sanitarium for their lessening care of those they house to grow their long list of experiments and labels.

"In better words: if the patients of Smith's Grove do not want to converse with one another in the open spaces given to them—we will force them to do so in another's space."

As soon as the white door swung on its hinges and opened way to the most notorious killer's room, the man hunched over his desk as usual, reality had set in.

Michael Myers, the most dangerous man locked away in the building for life, was now your partner in a survey-like test that could give you enough credit to appeal your case and perhaps get far away from a place like this. Maybe even back out into the world.

All you had to do was play along and not get killed by him.

"Michael!" The guard's voice was loud in one of your ears, shaking your entire frame. "You have a guest."

The guard's hand placed at the top of your back, one swift push pressing you into Michael's cell with the door closing quickly behind you. There was no time to think, no time to act, and most certainly no time to beg for a different partner.

You had seen his room in flashes, moving fast down the hall from the guard's pace—only enough time for a passerby's glance through the lines of the door's window or in through the door itself when it laid open.

Michael never frequented anything other than the cafeteria, his lonesome stay at the sanitarium nothing more than bitter to anyone who paid him any attention. Instead he sat within the four small corners of his cell, fingers tampering and crafting more masks than you could count—even with all of them before you now.

"You have an hour." With those four words, the door was shut and locked and the guard was gone.

Michael sat in the same chair you had seen him in a few times before, back hunched slightly to give his long arms a better angle at the mask being formed by his fingers. The paper-mache art seemed to reflect him in some ways, each and every one lining the walls various versions of what he made before except only slightly different.

You could feel your body rocking back and forth, eyes shaking from your nerves being shot. It was only a matter of time before the man made a move, got sick of you standing within his walls and decided to do something about it—the only thing you could think about was when.

The man was hushed, silent and deadly as you took two steps forward towards where he sat. He didn't pay you any attention, the mere shivering of your bones in his peripheral only making him blink his blue eyes behind the mask he wore on his face.

You didn't know what to say, or if you could even speak, but it didn't take long for the long-haired man to stand where he once worked.

Something had clicked in his brain. Maybe it was the scent of you in his nostrils, your single-bodied self unaccompanied and stuffed into his room to play house just to get good points on your record, or maybe it was the way his chest huffed in sudden annoyance of your presence—but the man was made well aware that you were where you weren't meant to be.

You felt your world growing smaller, the four walls that he had lived in quickly appearing to be your last demise. All of the times you had seen Michael, he was calm and collected—but as he stood before you know, you had no clue what was playing through his mind.

And it was his shuffle from the front of the chair that made your body stiffen, the long robe he always wore drifting with the blow of air that passed him as he turned and made his way before you. Not a single word had been spoken between you, his dark glare above your head making you wither.

It was four steps towards the big white gate that you could scream through and hopefully be released. It was three steps to his bed where you could cover yourself with his blankets and hopefully give padding to his blows if he wanted to strike. But it was only two steps backwards as your body moved for your back to meet the corner of his room, his towering figure moving you into the small space to make you feel even smaller than you were.

There was something about how he stared, eyes scorching across your exposed skin and mind clearly racing. From the perspective of a killer, you could be seen as cornered prey. But as his hand raised, flattened forward, and found its place on the cold wall above the side of your head—you were only left in a more curious state than before.

And only two sentences could make it past your lips at that moment. "W-Watch your masks."

The man's eyes blinked slowly, processing your words like he had never heard someone be so caring over something that was his. But from your sight, his head leaning down to be at the same level as yours appeared to you like he was going to do something.

"What do you want me to do?" Your words were fast, caught by his ears and held in his mind for just as long as the sentence before was.

The unresponsive man was a mystery to you, his deep eyes running their way up and down your form in response instead of speaking.

Only then did it occur to you of what was on his mind. A man locked behind thick gates and walls had more than just murder on the brain, and he had you all to himself for as long as the clock on his wall clicked to the next big digit.

You could hear his huffs behind his mask, the thickened paper shield only giving you an insight through his eyes and nothing more visually. He sounded like a dog panting over the idea of water, the arm above you moving once he took notice of your eyes trailing his muscles.

You watched his hand move below your chin, his index finger and thumb slowly creating pressure on your windpipe as they clamped down. It wasn't enough to choke you hard, only a warning of knowing your place.

You were in his room, in his space, and it didn't take any knowledge of anything besides natural human nature to know he was telling you that he was in charge right now.

"What do you want me to do?" It was the second time you had asked him that question, and yet your tone lowered to just above a whisper to let him know you genuinely wanted an answer.

You could see his eyes most immersively, the way his pupils dilated at the softness of your voice and even more-so from the message within the question.

You were now both on the same page, his desire for you carnal and your obedience for him an easy read to know that you would do anything for him in this moment just as long as he let you survive the hour.

In a moment's beat, his large hand left your throat and placed atop your head. His fingers curled into your hair to let his nails scrap at your scalp, the lightest push down letting you know the direction he wanted you to move in.

And before you knew it, you were on your knees before him. Breathing as heavy as his own—your shaking hands moved towards his gray sweatpants, pulling at the soft cotton fabric until only his cock was removed. Stiff, larger than you could have ever imagined, and leaking precum just at the slightest touch—your lips pressed into the tip as you grazed him.

The man made no sound except for his steady breathing, your eyes peering up at him for an answer on if you could keep going but the hand on your head seemed to hold you in your place. It didn't take long for you to devise a place, your tongue leaving your hot mouth and flattening to run along the bottom of his length and capture every vein and soft spot he might have.

And finally, he grunted. The hand on your head tightened on your skull, his fingernails digging into your scalp but not breaking the skin. It was clearly the first time he felt anything other than the touch of his own hand, and the man was slowly unfolding on himself.

Your tongue slipped over your bottom teeth to slowly suck him into your mouth, keeping from giving him any discomfort during the act. His body seemed hard, your hands gliding up his calves for one to take hold of the hem of his sweatpants for grip and one on his thick thigh to feel when his muscles clenched from the pleasure.

Your mouth welcomed his large cock, taking it in as much as it could fit before you felt your tongue jolt and his tip hit the back of your throat hard enough to make you gag. You felt his thigh muscle clamp before you heard the noise from his lips, a gurgled moan making you only want to repeat the action to hear it again.

"Mff—" The vibrations of your soft noise around him made him throb in your mouth, more of his precum slipping down your throat and leaving a saltier taste on your tongue as it swirled him.

You wanted to hear the silent man's noises, wanted to hear him fall apart from your mouth and touch, and right as your mouth backed away from his length until you reached his tip and licked at what spilled—you knew you had done even more than that to him.

His grip on the top of your head slid down until he held you by the back of your skull, fingers retaking their secure hold and forcing you back down his shaft. It wasn't the burning sensation from the suddenly used force that made the wetness of your arousal begin staining through your underwear and sweatpants, but the noise that left him in the process.

"Ug—hm" The man seemed to choke on his own breath, enthralled by the way your tongue lapped at him once he was fully back in your mouth.

He was so invested in what little space he gave you to work with once his cock was pressed to the back of your throat. Your tongue pressing at him, catching and memorizing every vein and soft spot that had him fucking deeper into your mouth although he was already too far in. And just when he appeared to reach the thought that he had done enough to you, your compulsion to swallow the amount of saliva and his leaking arousal in your mouth only fed his need more.

The man was delusional, drunk on your mouth as his right hand traded for his left on your head just so the other could slap into the corner wall and hold him upright. You had him almost speaking from the way he garbled his noises, sweat forming on the sides of his face and slowly dripping down to leave a small, wet dot on his clothing, and some even falling onto your own body.

Just as the burn in your neck turned into pain, his left hand began bouncing you on his cock. Your jaw relaxed, tongue keeping with its ability to poke and prod at him before you could fight it no longer and had to swallow around his length. Bobbing, moaning around him, and the slightest bit of saliva that had made it down his length managed to drip from your lips and get splashed onto the base of his cock.

"Fu-Fu—" The man hadn't said words in years, only grunted syllables on his tongue from his own motions. He was using you like a pocket pussy, and it drove him to begin twitching erratically in your mouth. He was seconds away from cumming when he hunched over until his chest was against your head, the thick liquid spurting onto your tongue only driving him into your mouth harder from the extra liquid coating his length.

"Uhmf—" His sounds turned into quiet, low growls as he pumped himself thrice more into your hot mouth. On the third time, he felt your tongue completely drowned by his cum—and your throat urging him to let you swallow it.

You felt like you were on cloud nine having watched a man, so cold and reserved, use you for his desires. His need to feel something warm around him, and he used you.

As you stared up into his glazed eyes, he was watching his cock leave your mouth with a pop. The hand that once held his tall figure up by the strength of the wall now held you by your chin  to remind you he is in control. In a moment's time, you felt the rough padding of his thumb connecting with your bottom lip, a gentle rub at the line of your mouth giving you permission to swallow his seed.

The phase of time seemed to end just as soon as it began, Michael's face returning to the blank stare he always showed as his touch left you completely to pull at his pants and cover himself back up. You watched the tall man clamber two steps back to the chair at his desk, his large hand pulling at the old plastic seat just as he sat down and began running his brush back through the glue to work on his mask.

Your thighs trembled below you, quivering with stains of your own body naturally wanting him further from the foreplay displayed in the crotch lines of your sweatpants.

You felt like a whining puppy as you turned your form towards him, scooching closer along the floor towards his sitting frame in the hopes that he would give you some type of attention. Your legs felt weak on the hard tiled flooring, eyes capturing sight of the clock that read plenty of time for him to help you get off, too. But as his head kept forward, eyes meeting every piece of newspaper sliding onto his new mask, his attention completely off you—your hand slipping into your own underwear was nothing on his mind.

Your fingers were ice cold as they pressed past the fabric you wore, capturing some of the extreme wetness the man caused as a reaction within your body and finding all of your sweet spots on the first go. It was only until your fingers curved against yourself that you moaned, watching the man's hand holt in place against the mask he was creating.

You had his attention. Your fingers worked yourself, mind so filled with static and the sensation from the fact that no one had ever gotten you this wound up before—especially when they didn't touch you at all.

You felt pitiful rutting into your own hand for friction. Michael sat away from you, not even a step apart, but he didn't move a muscle. He only listened to your sounds, heard the wetness you used to make yourself even wetter from your own touch—and finally he blinked at your sound when a word slipped from your light-sounding voice.

"M-Michael." He knew, he was well aware of what you were doing. Whether it was touching yourself to get him to touch you again, to maybe raise the same hard finish as he had—or if you were touching yourself with the idea in your mind that your own hand was his—either way, he was intrigued.

The rough pattern you had was nothing of his from before. He had a way of fucking himself with you, not letting you fuck him—and it was driving you to the brink of exhaustion trying to recreate the same cadence he had.

You wanted so badly for him to reach over and grab you, sink his hand into your pants or perhaps toss you over his thigh and let the muscle you felt flexing over and over bring you to your sweet release.

But instead he sat, listening, waiting for you to finish yourself off—no matter if it took the remainder of your time.

Just as your hand grew tired, eagerness turning into lingering touches as you rushed for your own orgasm to overtake you, your knees plowed into the hard flooring. Your hand turned into limited friction as you sat upwards, giving yourself the room to grind your hips back and forth for more force. It was hardly enough on its own, your mind needing more, and a single glance up at Michael gave you just that.

His length had risen again in his sweatpants from just watching you try to get yourself off. His pants turned into deep breaths, you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly as his head turned to watch you fall apart on yourself.

Your hips snapped quickly, one hand trying to keep yourself up and the other trying to apply enough pressure and hold for you to finally cum. And as the white light hit you, Michael's pants almost turned into animalistic noises as you watched his cock throb in the hold of his pants—you finally came.

Thighs clenching, your body fell back onto your folded legs as your eyes shut tight and your mouth cried his name once more. You could almost smell your scent as you rose back into your senses, the smell of sex in the air from the two of you although you didn't have intercourse.

You were minutes away from your time being up when your soaked hand left your pants, cum dripping from your fingers as you panted and tried to think of where to wipe it all off.

You felt so small once more, Michael's quick motion taking you by surprise as he pulled you forward on your knees by your wrist until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, see the precum staining through his pants again, but nothing was as arousing as what he did next.

The hand that had its fingers covered in glue from him shaping his mask held you by your wrist, his opposite hand moving the mask in closer to you until your cum-soaked fingers were being run along the drying piece. You watched as Michael motioned your hand with his own large touch, your cum beginning to drip and be smoothed onto the paper-mache mask just before he pushed your hand away and began placing more strips of newspaper along your wetness.

And right as the voice in your throat rose to ask questions, beg to know why he wanted a mask that would permanently smell of your love stink—the sound of footsteps and keys jingling halted everything.

Your time with Michael was up.

© scuddisher — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[slasherstories123]

I don’t know if you’ve done this already but what about hide and go seek with the slasher or if they lay down reader lays down on top of them you can choose which one though! Love your work<3

Slashers reaction to their S/O laying on top of them

Paring: Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and Brahms Heelshire x GN! Reader

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @smenny @oneofvincentscandles @thatoneweirdgirlspage @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @kissmachetebois @saturn-barnes @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @faeriefluer @bunnysenpai31 @sadskies

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas was almost done with his chores but he needed a break, he was tired from all the chores he had to do, laying down on the couch just to relax for a bit before having to getting back to work. He didn’t even realize he was drifting off until he felt someone’s weight on his chest. Making his eyes open quickly to see what it was. It was just you.

Your eyes stared at him, having a smile on your face like nothing was wrong.

“Did I startle you?”

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you as he felt you burry your face in the crook of his neck. The house was empty so neither of you had to worry about anyone walking in on the both of you. This was all he needed, having you in his arms without having to worry about anything else, this was all Thomas needed, a break.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba laid next to you on the bed, you were reading your book, waiting for him to come back. He looked bored which was a surprise since Bubba never gets bored. “What's with that look?” You asked, trying not to laugh at his bored face. He signed “Bored.” His bored face was honestly kinda cute. You closed your book with a smile. “I have an idea.”

He quickly picked his head up towards you. You crawled towards him, then laid on top of him completely. He was surprised but then got happy and wrapped his arms around you with a happy squeal. You giggled at him being happy. He loves it when you lay on top of him, Bubba’s very affectionate.

Not that you mind anyway. You find it cute, not only that, Bubba a nice person to cuddle with anyway.

Brahms Heelshire

It was time to tuck Brahms in to bed, he wondered why you turned all the lights off in the mansion, maybe you were going to bed after this? As you have him a kiss goodnight you stood there for a few seconds. “Y/N?” He spoke in his child voice. Waiting for your next move. What caught him off guard was when you simply crawled on-top of him.

He froze by the sudden movement but warmed up to it pretty quickly, holding you tightly like you’re a stuffed animal. He let out a childlike laugh before putting his masked nose in your hair. It was almost like all your problems went off your shoulders in a matter of seconds.

This wasn’t part of the rules but he isn’t complaining. Now having you here with him without him having to sneak into your room at night.

[cloverlove-drabble]

SLASHERS X MALE!READER

nsfw headcannons!?

Michael Myers:

BDSM to the extreme, knifes, rope, maybe murder

he would not be gentle, he doesn't care how much you hate rough sex he will go 10x harder to spite you

he will in fact cut you up, but not to deep, he doesn't want you dead

not one to focus on your pleasure, don't expect him to give you head.. not even a hand job

if you finish isn't his concern BUTTT

if you do, he kinda gets off on it, in a way, he just likes how helpless you seem when you come

silent.. if he isn't close he won't make any noise, the only reason you know he's enjoying it is the fact he's hard

not prone to start any sexual advances, he leaves that to you

his libedo is low but it exists, and when he is in the mood hes throwing you over his shoulder and speed walking to the bed

his aftercare in non existent, the most he'll do is rub you're head and wonder off afterwards

Jason Vorhees:

gentle giant! he let's you top, whether that be you riding him or fucking him yourself is for you to decide

he loves to see you on top of him, please use him for yourself he doesn't mind

the louder you moan and the more cute facial expressions you make the better

is not afraid to help you out all through out the day, he lives to make you happy

the more pleasure he can give you the happier he is, feels bad and may even cry if you don't finish when you two are having sex

he doenst think to focus on his own pleasure so you'll have to do that yourself

suck him off, please, he is desperate

the bliss he feels from it is unmatched, he'll whimper and whine and try his best not to jerk up into your mouth, he doenst wanna make you gag

speaking of that hes BIG, alot of prep will be needed, and he losses it when you prep yourself infront of him, fingering your hole refusing to let him touch you until you're done drives him mad

with aftercare he is so gentle and soft he'll rub his masked face in your neck and snuggle you close, refusing to get up until hes had enough hugs and kisses from you

Brahms Heelshire:

a real sub-y brat, he expects you to take care of all his needs

hes hypersexual to the extreme, all throughout the day he'll stop you just so he can get head

and hes mean with it, forcing himself deeper down you're throat until you're gagging, but he'll give you a thank you kiss so its okay :)

with sex he wants to bottom 100% of the time, he loves the feeling of you in him, the deeper you go the louder his demands get

he wants you to finish inside him atleast 2 times, he's spoiled and wants alot from you, he wont stop until he's full of you

hes a high pitch moaner, and he refuses to quiet down unless you gag him

he loves when you discipline him, overstim him until he's shaking, he would kill for it

he also loves praise, call him your good boy, tell him how good he makes you feel, pet his head, do anything like that and hes whining

a big biter, he leaves bite marks all over you as a claim, he wants you to know you're his

his aftercare is dependent on you, he's also so tired afterwards he wants you to praise him some more and coddle him until he falls asleep

Bubba Sawyer (leather face):

desperate hypersexual man, if brahms is hyper sexual this man is hyperly obsessed with sex

he wants multiple rounds a day, all through out the day, at least a couple of handjobs to hold him off until he can have you fully

hes been caught by you humping pillows desperately trying to get off, he is always so horny

hes never had someone to give him a helping hand so hes verryy greatful for you, he uses you all through out the day

he can dry hump you for the rest of his life if he could, he just loves the feeling he gets from you

sex with him is very fast and messy, hes humping you, trying to go deeper than possible in you, and all around making a huge mess of both of you

he loves to give to though! you're pleasure is all he cares about sometimes, he wants to give you the best mind blowing sloppy top you've ever experienced, he could spend hours between you're legs

he perfers to top during sex, doggy style is his favorite, he loves to grip you're hips and just go until you're legs are useless, to make it up he carries you around though! hes not a monster

he does have a monster size though, and it never fits fully but he tries his best to make it

aftercare is very good, he rushes you to shower with him, he scrubs your back and kisses you until you're lips are bruised, all this while he's trying to babble out praise, he's so cute

happy Halloween:3

[trashyslashers]

Could we maybe get the reader asking RZ!Michael when he was alone before trick or treating so they decide to ask if he wanted to join them? I just feel bad

author's note: It's been a hot minute since I've seen RZ/2007 Halloween, so I apologize if this little Michael is a tad OOC or if I got something incorrect about the scene while he sat alone. I should've rewatched it for this but I, uh, had a sudden burst of inspiration and motivation at like 3am to write this. It's been awhile since I've really written anything x reader, so apologies if this sounds a bit amateurish.

Anyway, thanks for the request, anon. This was cute. Sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy.

words: 1776

notes: reader is gender neutral, and written to be around the same age as kid Michael. considering this is child RZ!Michael, Michael does speak in this.

You tugged the collar of your costume's shirt down, your fingers scratching along the itch on your neck that was left from the material digging uncomfortably into your skin. You couldn't help but sigh softly when you looked down at what you were wearing: while a clown was far from the most original costume idea, you sure felt like one as you stood there, alone on the curb, as other trick & treaters scattered about around you. Their shrieks and laughter filled the air, and bits of the chatter and conversation from the babysitters and older siblings that had been delegated the responsibility to keep watch over them filled the gaps.

You had friends, sure - but they also had friends of their own who you weren't friends with, and it just so happened that they had decided to go with those friends, instead of you. It happened often enough that sometimes you felt that you thought more of them than they did of you, but it was their loss, though, you told yourself; you were the one of your group who has lived in Haddonfield for the longest, and as a result you knew the best houses with the best candy. You shook your bucket, a collection of various gumballs, gummy bugs, and mini chocolate bars rattling around. You hadn't made it to any good ones yet - you weren't allowed in other neighborhoods without at least one friend. 

That couldn’t stop you from wandering around your own neighborhood, though, and you wasted no time in continuing your yearly door-to-door routine, the familiar faces of your neighbors remarking on your unusually solo candy-venture.

You didn’t have a way to tell the time, but you estimated that it took you roughly half an hour to get through your neighborhood, and you found yourself feeling frustrated. You didn’t want to retire for the night - there were still so many houses left to go to! And not only that, but your bucket didn’t have nearly as much in it as it should’ve, and you hardly had much fun. You kicked a rock into the street, the bottom of your shoe scuffing loudly on the curb as you craned your neck up and around to see if you could spot any missing houses, and you picked up on the faint conversation of a group of teenagers nearby.

"Do you see the kid over there?"

"The one on the curb?"

"Yeah - who leaves their kid alone like that? On tonight, of all nights? Seriously irresponsible."

You turned your head in their direction, ready to scowl, but realized they weren’t paying attention to you. Rather, they were looking far out in front of you, across the road that rounded around the corner into the next street over, at someone else, instead. 

It took you a moment, but after a moment you could recognize who it was. The bright oranges and yellows of Michael’s costume made him stick out amongst the dark colors of the sidewalk and chain-link fence behind, and he looked just as lonely as you felt as he sat there, in a situation much like you had been in with everyone running about around you.

You weren’t ever really close with him. You saw him in the hallways sometimes, and you knew that he was often picked on because of his mom. A small handful of times you have sat with him at lunch when he was alone and your friends were busy, and while at first he wasn’t very talkative, he had warmed up to you a bit and you felt quite comfortable with him. Over time, you found yourself really enjoying the forty minutes you two occasionally had together during lunchtime. 

You felt bad, seeing him sit there. You knew he was bullied, but you thought he’d have had at least one friend to tag along with.

Well, you thought to yourself. Who said it can’t be me? 

You didn’t realize until about halfway over to him that you’d been holding your breath out of nervousness. You never felt shy around him, yet all of your interactions with him up to this point were in school. What if he said no? It was a worry that made you briefly reconsider your decision to go see him, but you kept on anyway. So what if he did? 

Michael was too preoccupied skating pebbles and leaves around the ground in front of him with the twig he held in his hand to notice you come up to his side, and after a moment of silence you quietly cleared your throat.

“I like your costume,” You said, trying not to think of how lame the opener was. “I’m glad I’m not the only clown out tonight.” You eyed the pumpkin bucket on the ground in front of him. It was completely empty, and you figured he must’ve just come out, or had been sitting alone without going to any houses.

It seemed to take Michael a second to realize you were speaking to him, and he stilled after a second, before looking up at you with a look of confusion that morphed into mild surprise. “Oh, I think I know you from school, right?” 

Well, at least he remembered you, and you smiled. “Yeah! I sit with you at lunch sometimes. I think you’re fun to talk to, even if we don’t talk a whole ton.” You sat on the curb next to him. You told him your name in case he forgot. 

It seemed that Michael was more pleased with your company than you expected he would be, and the two of you sat on the curb for a few minutes chatting, the two of you joking about how you both coincidentally decided to go as almost the exact same thing. He, apparently, really liked clowns, and you almost giggled at this information given how almost stark in contrast it was to what he usually wore at school. It just made him cooler to you, in your opinion, and you felt less silly about your own choice.

“You’re not with your friends tonight?” He asked after a few minutes, and you thought you could hear what sounded almost like a sense of hopefulness in his voice.

“No, they had other friends they wanted to hang out with I guess… but that’s lucky, because if I went with them then I wouldn’t have seen you tonight,” You said, and picked your candy bucket up. You held it out to him. “Do you want some of mine? I can even show you some good houses! I couldn’t go before ‘cause the rule is I can’t go alone, but I can go with friends, so now that you’re here, we can go together!”

You then realized that you’d never seen Michael really smile - at least, up until now, when his face seemed to completely light up at your invitation. “Okay! My sister Judith was supposed to take me, but then her boyfriend came over and she just started to waste all my time. I had to come out by myself.”

“Let’s not waste anymore, then! Let’s go!” You jumped up. You typically weren’t so hyper, but the combination of it being Halloween, and the excitement of getting to actually have a proper night of trick or treating with a newly-official friend, had you feeling giddy. Michael followed suit and stood up, taking a moment to pull the plastic clown mask he had over his face. You readjusted yours - yours only covered your eyes and nose, leaving the bottom half of your face showing - and you both looked at each other and gave a single nod of your head. It was go time.

The two of you walked, steps in sync, towards a row of lit up houses, your own shrieks of laughter drowned out amongst the noise from everyone else running about the streets. Michael had told you he’d be happy if someone just filled his bucket with candy corn - his favorite candy, which just so happened to be your least favorite, and so you feigned disgust at this. “And I was just starting to think you were cool…” You said and nudged him with your elbow, and you could hear him laugh at your teasing from behind his mask. 

Halfway to a house, a sudden shout of your name from somewhere behind you got both you and Michael to turn around. After a moment of scanning the street, you could spot one of your friends with a group of kids you didn’t recognize amongst the other trick or treaters. 

“You can’t go to other neighborhoods alone! Your parents will get mad!” They shouted, and you could see some of the kids they were with snicker amongst themselves, but you smiled and shook your head. 

“I’m with a friend! We’re going together!” You gestured to Michael, and before your friend could shoot back some retort, you tugged Michael by the sleeve of his costume back towards the block you were heading to. 

Heading towards the first house - one with a huge, light up Grim Reaper in the yard that Michael pointed out - Michael spoke up. “I’m your friend?” 

“Well, duh, I wouldn’t say you were if I didn’t think so. I wouldn’t have gone to see you and ask if you wanted to come either! I mean, if you want to be my friend,”  You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. This whole time, you didn’t even ask if he wanted to be your friend. It popped into your head that maybe he didn’t want to be your friend, and you could feel a funny sad feeling well up in your stomach. “Do you want to be my friend?”

He hummed to himself, and the angle of his mask gave the impression he was looking at the ground. It grew silent between the two of you, and this did nothing to help your growing anxiety. Yet, before you could speak up, suddenly Michael’s head snapped back up towards you, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ll be your friend… if you race me to the door!”

Michael took off, and after half a second of standing there dumbfounded, you laughed and called out to him. “Wait, that’s not fair! Re-do!” You realized that he didn’t say you had to win, just that you had to race him, and that was nothing if it meant you two could be new friends. You took off after him, taking a moment to send a mental thanks to your other friends for ditching you that night, because now you had a real friend.

[ahmnom]

Y’all ever just wanna… just wanna-

Yea….

[angelbarelywrites]

This is in my pinned post, but I figured I’d put this out here so more people see it

x Reader Scenario/Imagine requests are OPEN

Right now I’d really love to do some for slashers!!

Request Info!

Edit; Oh wow, inbox finally open lol, didn’t realize I never set it up.

Please include…

Characters; Pick 1-5 characters within the same fandom. I.e from the same series or category (mostly add that part for slashers). If you ask for only one or two characters, I may add more just for fun!

Reader Gender/Sex; I greatly prefer using gender neutral pronouns, but if you want something specific- especially if you want t4t or queer scenarios- let me know!

Premise; Usually works best if it’s simple! I prefer doing romantic scenarios but I can do platonic is well.

NSFW is allowed! And I love writing it lol. If you want something a bit out there in terms of kinks, don’t hesitate to ask.

[doomh3ad]

This is probably a dumb request. What about a Patrick Bateman imagine where a young fashion magazine editor, reader, is noticed by all the p&p guys. After Paul tries to hit on her she rolls her eyes and later asks Patrick out on a date in front of all of them.

not dumb at all tysm for the request!

fashion magazine editor asking patrick bateman out

Patrick doesn't think much of the hysteria encapsulating the Pierce and Pierce workers when he arrives at nine AM sharp. Those morons are always excited over something, they'd probably make a spectacle out of watching paint dry.

But you really are something. He's heard of you, a new editor for a fashion magazine Patrick himself is rather fond of, he enjoys your work. He would bet that his coworkers aren't as well versed in your field of expertise as he is; they're not worth your time, they fawn over you but Patrick sees the leers and subtle sexual comments you're being subjected to. They don't deserve to be in your presence.

You look at your saviour with pure gratitude when he interrupts them to pull you to the side quietly and discuss the latest issue of your magazine. Your excited realisation that he actually reads what you're editing is met with a warm smile from Patrick. There's an instant connection, and he doesn't believe in love at first sight but there's definitely an attraction to you he can't explain.

You speak on the same level, your mutual intelligence and knowledge shining through every word, and you're about to invite him back to your apartment to talk more when one of the Pierce and Pierce men cut in. You think his name may be Peter? Paul? Something like that, at least.

"Hey, sexy, - look at me when I'm talking to you, come on - why don't you come with me and we can have some real fun, yeah?" the man grins lecherously, and you're rolling your eyes so violently you think they may end up staying that way.

Patrick appears ready to step in, with a glance to you to check if you want to handle it yourself. You place a hand on his arm, and notice quite a crowd has gathered - it must be all of the men out now, their heads all turned in your direction.

You turn your gaze fully to the man beside you, ignoring Paul's spluttering at your complete dismissal of him. "Patrick, I've rather enjoyed your company. I cannot say the same for the others. We should speak further privately, perhaps over dinner? Say, Dorsia tonight at eight?"

He's impressed at your confidence, and accepts immediately. There's a satisfied look in his eyes as he surveys the group of his jealous coworkers, and hands you his business card.

With a winning smile and a kiss to your cheek, Patrick goes on to work knowing he's the envy of every man there.

[seraphim-writes]

Update: I’ll soon be done with my partial hospitalization program so writing’s should be coming soon. In other news I’m now open to write Brahms Heelshire x readers /head cannons/ imagines. I will soon be adding Pyramid head and other slashers ! If you have any requests for those two slashers feel free to send them.

[ernelovesslashers]

The Same Amount Of Fucked

Child! RZ Michael Myers

  Warnings: Cussing!! Gore, Psych ward, violence, murder, dead animals/bodies, stuff like that! No smut!!! Just short fucked up fluff

 You and Michael have been friends since kindergarten. You grew used to going over to his house and being greeted with insults, yelling, sexual remarks, and even the smell of alcohol mixed with musk. It was a way to have company around, your father was absent and your mom actually knew Ms. Myers from previous jobs together. 

  You and Michael would get into mischief all the time but never faced consequences with Ms. Myers, she would think of any excuse to keep you both walking freely instead of in a ward. 

  You did feel kind of bad how much she stood up for you but her constant reminders of “being like my own” made you a bit happier. She made sure you felt like you belonged just as much as she did Michael. 

  But today was definitely gonna be fucked. The principal found a lot of stuff in Michael's backpack and you were called in to get more view on the situation.

  “Yeah those are all mine I.. Didn't have room in my backpack and asked if he could hold it in his. He didn’t do-” 

  “They’re kids! Kids do stupid stuff and some kids like to look at dead things but there isn't anything wrong with them!” Ms Myers shouted at the principal. You couldn’t really give an explanation without her interrupting to defend you and Michael.

  With a frustrated sigh from the principal, he dismissed you and you went to go sit with Michael but he wasn't there. You go out and into the woods where you and him usually hang out and sure enough he was there.

  You decided to sneak up on him and scare him but getting close enough, you see a bloody Weasley kid in front of him. 

  “Holy shit Michael!” you couldn't help almost shouting, no doubt scaring the shit out of him in the process 

  “Jesus! what the hell are you doing here?!” He turned to you. He had his mask on but you could tell he was frustrated. You stared at the body in disbelief but weren’t as shocked as anyone would be. 

“Uhh, I was looking for you. Wanna go to the gas station and take some junk?” you tore your gaze away from the body finally and looked up at Mikey. He pulled his mask off and frowned his eyebrows in confusion. 

  “Obviously, lets go” 

You both cover Weasley's body with leaves before ditching him. Sometimes Michael would question why you never reacted to his actions the way others would, he never understood you. You didn't even bring up the murder he did! As ironic as it is, you were odd to him. He loved you though, possibly more than he loved his family.

[heartfullofleeches]

[Slasher Reader loses victim Yan in the woods]

Slasher Reader: Damn it...You always make me do this.... [Lifts up their mask slightly] Put your head on my shoulder~

[Nearby] "Hold me in your arms~... Shit"

[Slasher Reader, pulls their mask back down]

Victim Yan, leaping from the bushes: Oh fuck, oh fuck-

Slasher Reader: Squeeze me oh-so tight~ Wouldn't what you'd like me to do to you, sweetheart?

Victim Yan: Yes!-wait- No! Fuckfuckfuck - Why do you have to have the voice of an angel?!

[scuddisher]

RATHER BE THE HUNTER THAN THE PREY

Well aware that you are about to succumb to your demise, you beg for one final wish from Bo—that he doesn’t let you die a virgin—and he is almost too happy to oblige.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT (18+) PAIRING — bo sinclair x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — drabble, smut WORD COUNT — 2.6k WARNINGS — mature content, kidnapping, intense situations, use of restraints (chains), use of a weapon (knife), possessiveness, petnames used (baby, darlin, babydoll), dark! bo content btw  SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, dub-con (consensual), virgin! reader, mild praise kink, finger-fucking, dry-humping, dacryphilia, creampie, no use of protection, size kink (bo is biggg), drooling, loads of dirty talking because…it's bo and he seems talkative & loud to me! RELEASE DATE — JAN 3RD, 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — had a dream about this and immediately had to write it out. kinda got lost in this lmao. also i’m new at writing for slashers & dark toned fics in general, so please go easy on me! not edited <3

NAVIGATION | SLASHERS MLIST & RECS

The hefty clunk of the metal restraint is what pulled you from the lulled-over state, fading images of the inside interior of the man's gas station replaying in your mind until it all began to make sense again. His southern accent, that charming smile, and his sudden display of attraction led to you being hit over the head—Bo had you right where he wanted you.

His calloused fingers ran through your hair, pressing into your scalp to feel the heat radiating from your tense state of being. That Cheshire grin on his lips, it was beyond intriguing, but not as much as the surrounding space. Pictures of gruesome scenes displayed on his wall, multiple women having been tortured and played with according to the evidence he had purposely placed within eye level of the chair you were contained to.

"Like my work?" He spoke so confidently, as if his set of morals only made sense to his brain—and your opinion wasn't necessary in response to his question. "Not as good as my brother’s, I'll give it that."

His head tilted as he spoke, the hat clinging to his brown locks slipping slightly from the amount of sweat that had collected on his forehead. The action of pulling you along through the pathways of the small, abandoned town showed clearly by his physical state. The smallest bit of sweat showed, stained under his arms as he lifted his hand to fix his hat.

By the duress on your form, marks of his fingernails digging into your skin as he dragged you along, he seemed almost tired by the way he stepped closer to you in a slow motion pace—but he wasn't finished with you yet.

"But my work is much more fun." His smile widened to show you his teeth, straight and lightly stained, a darkness in his eyes that sent a chill down your spine.

It wasn't the restraints on your limbs—wrists and ankles held against the cold metal chair with you on full display for him—that made you lightheaded, but what was to come.

You had put together long ago that something was different about the small town, off and wrong. But the bite of your tongue helped you keep your cool, only until now had you kept in mind just what type of people you were dealing with in the confined space. You knew it from the moment something had gone wrong with your car that stopping in the middle of nowhere, town or not, was dangerous—and even more-so when those inhabiting the place appear extroverted considering their living conditions are plagued by few tenants.

You couldn't complete a full word, let alone a sentence. The way you shook, rattling the metal chair as if an earthquake was occuring, it only fed Bo's desires.

Had he not been the second face you had seen in the town, collected and calm with a lingering smile that made you feel safe for a moment's beat, you wouldn't be here now.

The blade of the knife attaching to your throat instantly stilled your movements, shallow breathing finally giving your ears a chance to hone in on his words.

"Now, now—there…" The way Bo spoke made it seem like he had dealt with a hundred shivering and whimpering people in his life and this was nothing new. "Can't have you witherin’ away on me so soon, darlin', hmm?"

The blade was dulled, making it that much more devious as he plucked at your skin cells in a threatening way. His voice could only coax so much of your nervous responses, hot tears slipping down your cheeks and falling onto the scars along his wrists as he hissed. "Cryin’ like a little bitch won't help either, now will it?"

For once, the man was awaiting a response. Your quieted state gave him the power to make you answer him, your hands tightening around the metal restraints in tandem with your head shaking slowly.

"Good." His voice was just above a whisper. "Good…"

His blue eyes seemed to turn darker by the second. His prowling state looming over you, legs helping him wander around to the front of the chair so he could stare at you face to face—it made your limbs return to their shaking to see the blade pulled from your skin and now in his distant hand.

"You're good at this." From his gently spoken words, it seemed like the words playing in his head were accidentally being said aloud. His racing thoughts, feral glare, and clutching fingers around the knife gave him the appearance of a predator looking at its prey. "Very, very good at this, baby."

Your mind raced along with his, attempting to remind yourself that he seems used to this. Used to your smaller state, used to the gritty appearance of your own blood and sweat soaking into your skin, and even more used to your trembling limbs soon falling into the hold of his rough hands once the knife was placed on a small table next to the chair.

He was effervescent, watching you stuck in the same chair he had seen dozens in before. His head bobbed, tongue leaving his mouth to lick his drying lips as his eyes caught sight of the way your clothing hugged your frame. You watched the corners of his mouth rise, blinking in your direction before meeting your gaze.

"Got a little dirty from the chase, didn't you?"

Your quick nod made him cackle under his breath, almost a hiss and a sign mixed together—mild attentiveness in the way you respond to him so quickly since showing you what he could do with the knife. He was being entertained, but his patience was getting cut shorter by the minute.

Once his hands had found your shirt, you knew what was to come. The use of someone, toying and prodding at them—Bo claimed a devilish smile at your wide gaze, knowing well that you knew what was occuring.

"Don't worry, babydoll—" You wanted to whimper, to show some sign to him of your innocence, but he already had his plan playing out in his mind. "—I'm a real good fuck."

"B-Bo—" His name leaving your mouth made him bite down on his bottom lip, face moving in closer to listen to your words carefully.

He couldn't help the way his brows raised, interest partaking his mind in a split second. The man seemed caught off guard, the sudden use of his name—only said to you once while greeting—was new to him. Especially considering that you had remembered it, he almost could hold back his smile.

"Yes?" The tone in his voice raised, gesturing for you to carry on with your sentence. Whatever you were to ask, it would certainly bring him joy.

"I-I—" But as your words returned to a stutter, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

"I-I-I—" He was mocking you, his high-pitched tone almost annoying to even yourself. The man loved games, playing you like he'd get a prize at the end—but now you were simply postponing his own release.

He grabbed at your wrists, pulling at them so violently that the restraints threatened to cut at your skin worse than the knife would have done. The man had officially lost his patience, tugging at the metal chair until the locks once confining you to the seat opened and your body was pulled upwards into his hold.

"What do you want? Huh?" His voice was loud, guttural and that of someone who had no compassion. "Cause you're wasting my damn time!"

The heat of your body against his drove him even harder to not break then and there, your frame cradled into him and fitting perfectly. His chin had to lower towards his chest just so your eyes could be leveled, the arm wrapped around your waist tight and his hand on your wrist even tighter.

"If you don't speak up, you'll never speak again!" He spoke through gritted teeth, eyes shining in the dim lights of the room below the station. Although his voice's tone had simmered down to above a whisper, you knew you were running out of chances.

"P-Please…"

His eyes squinting in annoyance was nothing but harsh, almost just as mean as his shaking head was at your words.

"I know I am gonna die."

Finally, you have caught on. It was those few words that made his face release, the smile slowly returning to his lips.

"I don't wanna die a v-virgin. Bo, please—"

"A virgin?" That whispery voice he had, like he couldn't believe the words coming from your mouth. "A virgin."

"Bo—"

"You want me?" His tone had turned dark once more, his step against your frame making his thigh connect with your lower half. The hiss of your tongue made him blink slowly, the cogs in his brain turning faster and faster with ideas of what to do with you.

"You had never been touched? Not before my hands…" The man seemed to fall deeper and deeper into his desires, his racing thoughts now in his frontal cortex and beginning to consume him. As you shook and shivered, you felt the heat of his tongue sliding across your lips—the scent of his breath now in your nostrils as he licked at your mouth. "My tongue…"

He was fading from reality, falling into a dominant state that urged him—and made his jeans tighten more as he thought and poked at you. It wasn't until you blinked, felt the warmth of his face leave your own that you could take in the pleasurable instance before you. His hand had taken your own, slowly moving down towards his thick pair of jeans, and falling along the shape of his hardening cock restrained by the pants he wore.

"Feel that?" Bo, always wrapped up in his own pleasure and need for release, was finally coming to terms with the fact that he had someone innocent and fresh to the world of sexual actions in front of him. "That's how hard you've made me."

"Bo—" You saw the way the lines in his forehead became more prominent when you said his name, and even caught sight of his cock throbbing against his jeans a second after.

"Keep sayin' my name so pretty, and I just might fuck the daylights out of you, darlin." He beamed with every word, his own hands beginning to trail around your frame.

He felt the clothes on your body, raising the bottom of your shirt to feel at your skin. The hiss that left him when he came into contact with your chest, felt at your hardening nipples—it all made him move in closer to you for friction. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted to feel something deep within you.

"Well—" The button of your pants was undone, his own popping open by a quick flick of his thumbs. As more and more skin of the two of you was exposed, the man seemed to need to suck in more air into his lungs. "Since you asked so nicely."

It only took a beat for him to have you spun around, back flesh against his front and your ass rubbing against his length soon pulled from the hold of his clothing. You could feel every bit of him, inch by inch. And as your mouth watered, it was just as quickly pooling from the corners of your mouth as he ripped at your underwear to run his fingers through the wetness created by your own curious pleasure.

He lifted his fingers away from your torn clothing, raising them towards your face to show you the slick wetness strung between his digits. "And this is what I've done to you…"

With every grin Bo gave you, you felt the pulse of his length against you. The moment you saw him smiling in your peripheral was the same time you felt his fingers returning to your wetness, digits slowly slipping into you and creating squelching noises from his rough pace. You could feel the callouses from his work, feel the coolness of his fingers turn hot as he fucked you with them, and even hear his deep panting in your ear as he ground himself against you.

Your head was spinning with pleasure, the breath knocked out of you from the sudden loss of his fingers. It was only for a second that you could see behind you, watch as his wet fingers wrapped around his own length and coated himself with your wetness, but the image alone had you bucking your hips against nothing for a sooner release.

"Look at you. Like a dog in heat…aren't you?" Your nodding made his sentence fade out, the smile once on his face lowering as he pulled at your hips with a harsh grip. "Do you want my cock that badly?"

Now his voice had turned back into a whisper. You couldn't even nod fast enough, the tip of his cock at your entrance taking the breath you needed to moan as he entered you. Deeper and deeper, it almost seemed as though he wouldn't fit.

"Fuck…" He winced at your tightness, panted at the sight of himself slipping out and back in slowly, and laughed a deep chuckle at the sight of light splatters of blood covering his cock from your virgin body taking him first. "Fuck!"

You couldn't speak, garbled sounds of moans, groans, and whines coming from you. Your sounds were nearly covered up by his loud groans, his thick cock railing into your body making your limbs run sore. Just as you fell forward, arms catching yourself on the metal chair that once held you down, you felt the pulsing of your walls working their magic on the man who had never felt the insides of a virgin.

Bo, the calm and collected man you had known for a short period of time, was losing himself with his cock inside of you. His pants were frantic, moans and groans colliding in his throat and making him create animalistic sounds.

"You—You're, ahh—fucking so good. So—So good for me." The man was a mess, his mind so clouded with pleasure and white that he nearly missed your walls clenching on him, an orgasm arising from you. It was the first orgasm caused by someone beside yourself, and you were a mewling mess along with him.

"Bo—Bo I—"

"Come on my cock." He had finally found his stance, his heavy boots planted on the old floor as he brutally thrusted his hips until the pace of his lower half turned frantic. Racing for his own release, the man was using your limp body like a pocket-pussy, not even the least bit concerned about the red marks turning into bruises along your skin from his rough hold.

"You're mine—m-mine…" The man had officially lost himself within you, the thick ropes of his cum painting your insides making you let out deep breathes and suck in even larger ones to combat his form falling against you on the metal.

As he last few drops of his cum spurted into you, he pulled his length from your walls—wincing at the feeling of the cold air against his hot skin as he pulled his jeans back up his legs and stretched.

Your body, tired and used to completion, finally had its fill. Your blinking eyes couldn't help the small tears still falling down your cheeks, Bo catching the droplets on the pads of his fingers as he pulled you backwards into him.

"Don't cry—" He spoke in a hushed voice, praising you for taking him so well. "You did so well for me. You got just what you wished for, right? Shush—shush your cries babydoll."

Even with the warmth of his hug from behind, it couldn't divert your gaze from the floor—your eyes set upon the metal drains along the tiled flooring. This was death as a building, as a town, and as a person—and Bo was just playing with you.

"I think it's time I get my own wish granted, don't you?"

© scuddisher — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[suiana]

✎ yandere! slasher who's a mass murderer and doesn't discriminate when he kills people! he doesn't care about your gender, height... nothing! as long as he deems you a 'bad' person you're dead :3

✎ yandere! slasher who killed one of your friends because he was actually a big pervert who took nude photos of you?1!1! wait whys he kinda... 🤤

✎ yandere! slasher who didn't expect to be chased around by you after your friend's death. wait he's a killer! a killer! why are you fawning after him-?!

✎ yandere! slasher who's the traumatized while you're the traumatizer 😈😈 #couplegoals fr because you should get yourself a big scary looking man who's actually a huge softie on the inside. plus he also gets flustered by all of your acts of affection and that's extra cute!!

"..."

"why are you just staring at me like that?"

"..."

"say something!!!"

you frown at the killer as he shrugs and wipes the blood off his knife. you stare in horror as the blood drips to the ground, staining your newly cleaned floor. he then comes close to you, pointing the knife at your chest before making a series of rapid stabbing motions near your chest area.

however, you merely rolled your eyes at the killer, stepped close to him and stared at the holes in his bloody mask. seriously! the nerve that he had to just come into your home and do such a thing! you had to teach him a lesson.

"baby we've talked about this!"

you sigh as you push the knife away with your finger.

"don't come in the house with blood all over yourself! it's so hard to get rid of it!"

you let out an irritated click of the tongue as your frown deepens. the slasher only let's out a whine in response as he looks at you. to be honest it was hard to stay mad at him, especially when he's this adorable.

thinking about it, he's like a giant puppy. cute and adorable on the inside but big and scary on the outside. you looked at the masked male as he desperately tries to make up some reason as to why he forgot. but it doesn't matter, you weren't listening anyways. how could you? you were too focused on the fact that he came into your house and stained the floor with blood! right after you finished mopping too!

you couldn't let this slide.

"mop the floor and I'll forgive you."

you huff as you turn away from him. you then made your way to your bedroom as the male sighs in relief, thankful that it was all you asked him to do. but he forgot the fact that blood was hard to get rid of. especially when he had stepped all over your living room and made a mess everywhere.

"...this is gonna take forever."

[screeching-bunny]

Need more of our yan slasher,he's so pookie,i wanna bite his cheeks (in a affectionate way) and cuddle with him until the end of times,he's such a cutie 😭💗

Yandere! Slasher Pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt. 1

After reading the message sent by Yandere! Slasher, everyone subconsciously looked at you. Never in your life did you want to go home more badly than you did right now. Why did you even decide to go to a party in the first place? You don’t even like people in general! You were definitely never going out to socialize with others after this. If only there were more booze around here you really didn’t want to handle this situation semi sober.

You: “... What are you all looking at me for, they gave out a very vague description of someone. This could literally be anyone in this room with similar features to me.”

The next minute the phone screen immediately lights up with a message.

Yandere! Slasher: “I’m talking about you.”

You: “...”

After a few more seconds of silence, you finally managed to suppress the fear and uneasiness in your heart. You took the phone from the person beside you and carefully looked back at the messages that were sent by Yandere! Slasher. Finally looking down at the text box you begin to slowly type a message.

You: “Sorry, I don’t like guys with dark hair.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I can always dye it.”

You: “I don’t like your face.”

Yandere! Slasher: “There’s always plastic surgery”

You: “How do I know that you're rich? What if you’re lying and actually not broke.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I’ll buy you whatever you want right now. I can even send you my credit card information if you decide to be with me.

Damn you were broke but not broke enough to allow yourself to be with some killer. If it weren’t for your morals you would have probably folded by now.

Yandere! Slasher: “Well it’s not like you have a choice anyways. I plan on making you my spouse either way. You can either come with me willingly or I could take you by force…. Well looks like you’re taking too long. I'll decide for you.”

With that text message sent, you immediately began to feel queasy. You were struggling to keep your eyes wide open and your body was beginning to become very sluggish. Slowly but surely your senses were starting to stop and the last thing that you were able to hear were the sound of your peers screaming for help. With one last attempt to get out of your situation, you try to slowly crawl away. Only for your attempts to be interrupted when someone gently picks you up. “You’re not going anywhere cutie.” and with that you were now fully unconscious.

—

The next morning you woke up with the world’s worst hangover in the world. Never in your life did you feel this fucked up and and groggy all at once. You begin to raise up your body but soon realize that your body was tightly restricted by some rope and you were wrapped in the arms of some guy. The immediate thought in your head was that this was, last night was either the kinkiest night of your life or some random weirdo had ended up kidnapping you. Due to your movements the man next to you begins to wake up and looks over to you with a smile on his face.

“Cutie! I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so many things that we need to discuss right now! I’ve been thinking about the names of our future kids. Do you have any preferences? I don’t really mind what we name them but I want a lot of kids! Wait! I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I never even asked you if you wanted kids. If you don’t like them we can adopt as many pets as we physically can and we–”

As he was rambling it finally hit you. He was the fucking weirdo from the night before. You wanted to fucking die. Never in a million years did you think that you’d have to deal with a serial killer and an extrovert at that. Maybe if you pretended to be deaf he would stop talking to you. You begin to look at him and begin to make gestures with your head and facial expressions to signify that you were deaf. Yandere! Slasher looks at you for a few minutes before laughing.

“Sweetie, that's not going to work. I’ve been stalking you for the last couple of years. I know that you’re not deaf. Besides I’ve looked at your medical, you're perfectly healthy right now. Which reminds me, my precious little darling must be starving right now. It’s my job as your future husband to take care of you. Now wait right here for me.”

With that he leaves you entrapped alone in the room. Although your eyes were still a little blurry you were still able to make out the contents of the room. Scanning the room, your eyes fell upon a glint of metal under a desk —a discarded tool left by neglect or chance. Adrenaline surged as you inched closer, your heart racing in synchrony with your movements. With trembling fingers, you grasped the tool, the cold touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Summoning every ounce of determination, you started sawing at the ropes, each movement a blend of agony and hope. The metallic smell of blood filled your nose as the sharp edges of the tool cut into your skin. With each passing second, the knots loosened, freedom within tantalizing reach. With one last rough movement you were able to be free of your binds. As you made your way towards the window. A creak soon shatters the silence and the door swings open. Revealing your kidnapper's looming silhouette.

“Look at you all covered in blood because I left the room. Did you really think I would leave the room without any monitors watching you? I was hoping that you wouldn't try to escape but I guess I’ll have to be training you from now on cutie. Guess I’ll have to punish you right now. Do me a favor and lay down won’t you?”

[multific]

Our Souls Tangled

Tai'stbah x Reader

Summary: Growing up on Yautja Prime as a human was a difficult task. Thankfully, your parents taught you well and now, it was your time to prove your worth as a member of the tribe and get married.

You walked along the ship, trying to find your way back to your room but you were utterly lost.

No matter how many times you have been on this ship, you always managed to get lost at least once per trip.

You grew frustrated with yourself.

You were a part of their tribe, you were the daughter of a Yautja... well adoptive daughter.

Your mother was pregnant with you when a Yautja saved her.

Your mother said your biological father was a human on Earth. But all you knew was Yautja Prime.

You knew you were different from them, yet they never treated you any differently.

You knew their language, their traditions and customs. You were one of them.

You were a great hunter and an even better cook.

Your mother and father taught you well. 

Your father, a tribe leader, Pall-Za'ko taught you the ways of a Yautja, and even if you were not as big or strong as them, you were one of them. He taught you how to use a knife and other weapons.

Your mother, Helena, taught you how to cook and be vigilant. She taught you songs and tales, she taught you that even if you were a human amongst the Yautja, you were still strong.

When you came of age, your parents sent you on a hunt. Your very first amongst the other younglings.

And you came back victorious.

It was the first time you saw your father that proud as he watched your mother hug and kiss you.

And now, you were sent to find a husband. 

A nearby tribe, known for their skills to create weapons, had sons ready for marriage, so you and two other females were sent over in hopes of uniting the two tribes.

The leader of the tribe was a young male, who inherited the title after his father's death.

It was said that he was picky and he refused to take a female as his wife.

You knew it was pointless to go, if he refused so many of them, why pressure him more?

But you also knew your duties as the daughter of a tribe leader.

So, you didn't argue.

You saw it as an opportunity, he will reject you along with the other females, and you will be back by the same time tomorrow. 

So, you got dressed once you finally found your room and got ready for the arrival.

You never felt smaller than right now.

You heard that this tribe had some huge males, but this was ridiculous. 

It was said that your tribe were better hunters because they were smaller and faster.

But these Yautja were huge.

Tall and broad.

You heard your companions making comments regarding the males.

But soon, all of you were brought in front of the leader one by one.

You were kept for last.

And just as you expected, as the others went in, they came out.

Both were rejected.

Now, you just had to deal with the rejection and be on your way home to your bed.

But as you entered the home of the tribe leader, and you locked eyes with him, you felt as if the air was knocked out of your chest.

You felt a weird sensation in your stomach and your head started to hurt.

You could only stare at him.

Tai'stbah, the leader of the tribe was introduced to you by one of his men.

A great leader, you listened as they listed all of his achievements and you couldn't help but feel impressed.

You also never looked away from him.

His eyes were glued to you and you were glued to him.

You thought he might find it strange that you were human. But you never expected him to keep staring at you.

And you had no idea why you were feeling this way.

In the end, the two females were sent home, you stayed, according to a member of the tribe, their leader couldn't decide when it came to you, so they invited you to stay.

Which shocked you.

Why would he want you to stay?

Did he not know you were a human? What was happening?

But no one said anything.

Everyone just kept avoiding you.

Later that day, you were asked to wear a traditional bride's dress, you wanted to refuse, but you knew better.

If he wants you to marry him, it is why you came here. You cannot say no.

You didn't want to disappoint your parents. 

You were led to a room where you were told Tai'stbah would wait for you so you two could have dinner alone.

When you entered, he wasn't there yet. Knowing where you could sit, you sat down right next to the tribe leader's spot. It would show respect and that you weren't afraid. 

When he entered, you stood up and bowed your head, just like you were taught. 

He sat down in his respectable place and so did you.

You were both served food before the cooks left.

You looked at anything but him.

You didn't understand why you were there. He rejected everyone, yet he asked for you to stay.

"I choose you." he said and you looked at him, looking into his eyes. "Mates." he said.

Mates or soulmates.

Yautja traditions regarding mates were simple and sacred, if a yautja finds their mate, they are to be together forever. Separation would hurt the two of them, it was said, that soulmates bond the moment they meet. A bond which can never be broken.

"Are we really?" you asked and he nodded.

"I felt it, did you not?"

"I-I felt something... I wasn't sure what it was."

"My parents were mates. My father once told me how he and my mother met, he said he felt the strongest pull towards her, and that he knew he could not be separated from her. And so did she. I rejected other females because I wanted the same my parents had." Tai'stbah explained and although it made a little sense, you were still sceptical. And you could see, he understood.

You recalled the sensation you felt in your stomach. 

Could that be?

But as you sat there and thought about it, you did notice how close you were to him and how safe you felt with him.

No other males have ever made you feel like this.

You also knew what rejecting him would bring.

Heartbreak.

Pain and suffering.

Mates are not supposed to be separated, they cannot live without the other.

But it did feel very sudden. You would say that you were unsure, but in reality, you were more unsure about the fact that you could find so much ease with someone else so quickly. 

If anything you were taken aback by how fast everything was going.

It wasn't to say that it was bad per say, but it felt all too quick.

"And now I found you." he said.

"I-" you knew you should say something, but what? Should you speak from the heart? Or let your mind speak for itself?

You weren't too sure.

"I understand, I'm also rather shocked as you can imagine. I never expected the hunting tribe leader's daughter to be my Mate, but it is true, I can assure you, I wouldn't lie about such things."

You knew he wouldn't or rather, he couldn't.

Soulmates are sacered. 

"I would like to try. I want to see where this feeling will lead us." you said and he genuinely looked happy.

One thing about the Yautja, they rarely showed any emotions.

--- A year later ---

You looked out of your window, the rain was pouring.

It rarely rained, but when it did, it was a heavy rain. Compared to other planets, the rain here was a lot stronger.

But you found comfort in it.

What you couldn't find comfort in however is the fact that Tai'stbah had been gone for a long while now.

He was invited on a hunt, and as a leader of his tribe, he had to go.

He had been gone for almost a month now, and you grew more and more worried with each day.

You knew he was alive, if he wasn't, you would feel it.

Later that evening, you heard the sounds of a ship landing, you rushed outside and it was indeed Tai'stbah's ship.

You stood there along with other females.

The ramp opened and he walked down, with his arms open, waiting for you.

You ran into his arms, as many other females ran to their husbands.

"I missed you." you told him and he soon pulled back, presenting you with a very impressive skull. "Thank you." you smiled at him and you both made your way back to your home.

You made sure to always have food prepared since you wouldn't have known when he would be home.

And now, it really paid off.

He ate everything you put in front of him.

"Your father sends his wishes. I got to see what a great hunter he truly is."

"He once said he won over my mother with his skills. He showed her that he was a true male."

"And now I understood why."

"So, you brought the skull to impress me?" you smiled and he nodded simply. "You shouldn't have, I'm already very impressed, Tai."

He leaned back in his chair and you moved over, sitting in his lap, you placed a kiss right between his eyes.

"You are my soft little human." he said as his hand grabbed your thigh while the other held your back.

"And you are my big strong Yautja."

"You are playing to my ego again, you know I like that."

"Can I go with you for your next hunt?"

"You said you are already impressed."

"Oh, I am. I'm only trying to determine if you would be as great of a father as I assume you could be, Tai." he snapped his head at you, eyes searching for yours.

"You want offspring? We got married a month ago and I asked you said you wanted to wait." he sounded way too happy.

"And I do. All I'm saying is my mind might change if I see you kill a couple xenomorphs." you admitted, and you felt his hands tighten around you even more.

He almost jumped up from his seat but your weight held him back.

"I-I will arrange the hunt soon! Very soon!" you laughed a little at his reaction. 

"Tai! Stop freaking out please!"

"I love you too much. I want it now." he said and you laughed again.

"I love you too." you said as you placed your forehead against him.

It surely felt nice having a Soulmate. Even if you were rather taken aback by it when you two first met, but for the last year you have been together and it has never been better. You swear it felt like it was more than just a year.

Your souls found one another, and it felt as if you two knew each other all your lives.

It was exactly how it was meant to be.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[trashyslashers]

Can I request headcanons for Corey? Maybe something with how’d he react to the reader just showering him in affection? (Cuddles, kisses, praise, etc)

Thank YOU for being my first Corey request!

I've only seen Halloween Ends just once at the time of posting this, I hope to see it again soon, so apologies if this is a tad bit OOC! Once I see the film again, and the more I write for him, I'll definitely have a better grasp on Corey's character as imo he's a complex character and I absolutely love that.

Very, very minor spoilers for Halloween Ends (mostly just a vague mention to his relationship with his mother, and something that happens within the first like... 10min of the film), but nothing too bad.

Corey Cunningham with an affectionate (GN)reader

Regardless of what sort of relationship the two of you have (if you're just an incredibly affectionate friend, or if you two are romantically involved), in the early stages of your showers of affection, Corey is incredibly shy and unsure how to react.

He flusters very easily, and given that he hasn't had much experience with being on the receiving end of so many hugs, cuddles, and words praise, he'll often get (albeit a small one - he tries pretty hard to suppress it!) a goofy, dorky, shy smile on his face. I also see him as a HUGE blusher, much to his dismay. It's VERY easy to tell when you're making his heart flutter!

Sure, his mom praises him - but it's a very backhanded, controlling type of praise. "I never liked you with that girl - you're my good boy, and she was trying take you away from me!" So having a friend, or partner, lavish him with genuine, loving, kind praise that focuses on himself as a person, rather than just what he does for you (yet at the same time, he absolutely melts if your praise is along the lines of "You make me feel safe", or "I feel at home when I'm with you"), will have him weak at the knees and sometimes stunned into silence. Especially after everything that happened with the night he was babysitting.

Returns the affection, but at first it's subtle. Absentmindedly running his hand or fingers lightly along your arm, wrapping his pinky with yours and tugging you closer to him when he wants to show you something, non-physical expressions such as insisting you walk on the inside of the sidewalk so you're not so close to the road, offering you his jacket if you're cold.... and so on. Very subtle, but still big things when it comes to Corey! You know he's comfortable with you when he begins doing these things.

As the two of you grow closer, he becomes more accustomed to your affection, and becomes more comfortable expressing his own, in bolder ways. I can see him being pretty protective over those he cares about, so even if you're just friends, he will express this physically; a protective arm around your shoulders or waist if you're walking together at night; his hand firm, yet gentle as he holds your own to keep you close to him, and so on.

Absolutely a sucker for giving (and especially receiving) forehead, temple, and cheek kisses. He loves receiving cheek kisses, and his favorite place to kiss you is to press his lips against your temple. Something about it is just incredibly tender, sweet, and reassuring to him.

Give the tip of his nose a quick kiss before you part ways if you really want to get him at a loss of words with your affection!

Overall, while he may be shy and unsure how to respond at first, Corey loves the physical affection you give to him. He, as he becomes more confident, is very physically affectionate as well, and having a partner match that (and he loves it when his partner initiates - it catches him off guard in a good way, and makes him feel loved and cared about) is a dream for him.

[ahmnom]

So the key to studying anatomy is to draw characters that you like as the shit ur studying. Who knew….