#slasher x trans reader

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch21

Michael Myers x ftm reader

Read on ao3

The fuzziness in your head keeps pulling you in and out of a doze but the puddle of drool on your arm is slowly cooling and dragging you into the waking world of bothersome sensations.

Trying to hold onto the comfort of dreamless sleep proves futile when your bladder starts to protest. Uncurling from the awkward position you passed out in sends crackles through your bones, eliciting a small groan when you push up onto your right hand and blearily wipe your face with your left.

Squinting in the predawn light renders your vision blurred and you start at the figure sitting against the wall across from you, kicking your blanket off of yourself in instinct.

You stare back into Michael’s mask for awkward seconds that feel like an eternity, your brain unable to provide backup so soon after waking. You look back down at the blanket from your bedroom that you definitely didn’t bring in here with you. When your gaze returns to him, a delicious zip of adrenaline shoots down your spine at the coy tilt of his head and the cross of his arms.

So he is awake…

“S-sorry. Um-” your embarrassment turns to indignation, “I mean, you’re the one who stole my shit first!”

And now you take your exit, keeping your eyes on him as you get up and then try to speedily shuffle out of the room. You make it across the threshold before an iron grip clamps on your wrist with preternatural quickness. It isn’t painful, but borders it.

“Ugh- Michael!” You give a few useless tugs, “Dude, I have to pee-”

You stumble forward when he releases you and only get a quick glance at his towering form as you duck into the bathroom and click the lock behind you.

In the mirror, your flushed reflection and bedhead look back at you.

***

The sensation of your soft skin and delicate bones of your wrist under his grip lingers long after letting go. Michael looks down at his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist. It made his mouth water dangerously.

His gaze sweeps back over where you were sleeping, landing on the large black t-shirt crumpled next to his sleeping bag. A smug feeling creeps up on him as he snatches it up.

You hadn’t noticed the hours old blood staining the clothes on his body- too distracted. He takes this time to strip off the fabric that was slowly sticking to him, tossing the spent overalls into a corner and pulling on the shirt you had been using.

The bathroom door creaks back open and your gait on the stairs sounds through the quiet house. Michael is tying the arms of his green jumpsuit that you had brought to the laundromat last week around his waist when he hears you yell from the kitchen.

“Michael, did you eat my fucking leftovers?!”

***

You glare at the aluminum pot of water on the stove to make it boil faster. Glaring at Michael would be a waste of energy because he doesn’t care, so you contemplate ruining his breakfast. Then you contemplate saying so out loud that you wouldn’t ‘because SOME people have impulse control…’

You rip open two packs of ramen and dump them into the boiling water. Turning and leaning against the counter next to the stove, you face your shielded expression toward him.

Michael is sitting on one of the mismatched thrift store chairs you’ve outfitted the space with. You have a hard time maintaining your glower seeing how poorly he fits behind the cheap ply board table. He watches you right back, eyes shaded behind his mask.

You push yourself off the counter to grab two eggs from the fridge, preparing to add them to the water with the broth powder, conveniently not having to look at him while you talk.

“I’m going to be locking up the back door now. Don’t break it. I’m-” you pause, hit with the implications your point comes with, “...giving you a key.”

Avoiding his stare, you plonk the bowls of breakfast ramen down on the unsteady table and slide his across, following it with a copy of the back door key you received from the locksmith.

When you sit, Michael cautiously grabs the key, his eyes never leaving you until it’s in his hands. You put your hands around your soup bowl, waiting for it to cool and sheepishly waiting for his reaction.

Multiple slow heartbeats go by as he fingers the key like a precious material, his gaze piercing it until he clenches it in a large fist rather than stow it away in a pocket.

You don’t see him release it as he turns up his mask to eat. It could be the steam from the broth, but you swear his cheeks look pink.

***

Work was work. It sure had a way of making the day feel over even when you had errands to run after your shift. You had to stop at the hardware store you’ve become a regular at before going home.

Today Laurie called ahead to meet you, saying it was actually the best place to go over the plan, and you see her standing out front with the hay bales when you turn the block.

You both pull your jackets tighter at a chill breeze, share a quick greeting, and shuffle in through the front door with a tinkle of the store’s bell. Giving a friendly wave to the clerk stuck at the register, Laurie ducks the two of you into the nearest aisle out of sight.

“Okay, let’s hash out the plan- do they have a hunting section here?” Laurie says sounding overwrought, then commandeering an abandoned cart left by a cardboard display of spray insulation.

“I need to get some glass cut, so is this something that a random guy shouldn’t be exposed to?” You sigh, hands in your pockets. The distinct smell and enclosed space of the store relaxes some of your tension. Laurie sets a meandering pace, seemingly browsing the stock so you can talk.

“We can’t rely on a phone to reach each other, but since we’ll be in range of the house a walkie-talkie will work perfect.” She grabs a can of long range wasp spray and dumps it in the cart.

Your brow furrows “Is Jed going to be in the loop? Not that I’m complaining he isn’t here, but the walkies would broadcast to both of you, right?” Apprehension leaks into your voice at the idea.

“Yeahhh,” the annoyance in her voice is clear and you’re glad you don’t have to justify your misgivings. “I’m gonna keep him updated, but it’s not like he’s doing any of the dirty work.

“Only important ‘cause of his damn camera and connections.” She grumbles under her breath.

You grimace and follow her restlessly into the firewood section, seeing her push the cart with a destination this time.

“I’m going to give you a taser, which might give you enough time to use this.”

Laurie sneers at the length of wrought iron she lifts from its place, a dark fire poker with a wicked hook curving down below the spear tip. From where you stand behind her, she doesn’t see the look of horror on your face.

“Uh. Not to be that guy, but I don’t know if a taser would work?” You delay, trying to school your expression into something like ‘nervous’ as she tests the heft and tensile strength of the improvised weapon.

Laurie shakes her head at you knowingly as she sticks the poker in the cart. “Pfft- of course not, a regular one would do jack shit. This one is for bears.”

Your mouth is agape.

“Wha- where did you even get something like that?” you demand, whisper yelling.

She shrugs and doesn’t look at you as she drops the poker in the cart.

“Supply order for animal control. Turns out they don’t ask too many questions and we’re close enough to Wyoming to qualify for grizzly grade equipment.” her smirk leaks into her voice with a mirthless chuckle.

You warily follow in-step behind her as she pushes the cart onward.

“Okayyy, then what’s the poker for?”

“To yank the mask off at a distance or rip it.”

You don’t have a response for this, but she takes your silence as affirmation- or at least not disagreement- and details the rest of the plan.

Processing only the gist of it, you capture that all of you will be armed with a camera, walkie talkie, and appropriate tools. You with a bear taser and fire poker, Lori with a gun that she assures you she has a permit for.

You place your glass cutting order.

To defeat the awkward silence growing in the space of waiting at a service desk, you bring up Dwight’s party.

“So, do you plan on going to that Halloween party at Jake’s- wait, shit, is it in three days already?” Interrupting yourself when you realize how soon it’s impending.

“No way, I can’t stand that stuff anymore.”

“Yeah, I can get behind that,” you nod grimly. “Plus I don’t have a costume so I’ll probably look like a total dipstick.”

***

When you get home, you check the mail even though every part of yourself screams not to.

Another blank envelope is waiting for you.

You want to slam the bag you’re carrying onto the porch and scream, but you set the paper wrapped glass pane down gently anyway.

In the last of the evening light, you rip it open with shaky hands.

A single developed photograph. The flash of the camera illuminates the blurry background of your bathroom sink, in center focus is the clear and legible label of your testosterone prescription. You don’t have to speculate what they mean with this threat.

Infuriating scrawl on the margin says ‘flip me over <3’.

Very creative new curtains, sweetheart, but we can’t have that~

Take them down, or else. XXX

On shaky hands, you replace your front door’s window. Your palm stings from where you let the glass dig into you when you crumple the photo, and bury it in the kitchen trash.

***

Your legs are locked around the bottom half of your pillow as you try to smother the fear and anger in the top half. The streetlights and moon send in enough ambient light to mock your plight.

You took your T shot today and the jack rabbit needs of your dick are warring with everything you have to worry about. It’s fucking exhausting. You don’t want to think anymore.

Who knows when you started instinctively grinding on the pillow between your legs, but that dopamine starts to be really tempting.

Flopping onto your back, your hand is already in your boxers trying to narrow the buzzing focus in your brain with a new physical pressure. It lets your shoulders relax, the withering tension coming out in a sigh.

Your dominant hand cups between your legs, cushioned by the thick hair that leads up in a happy trail. The head is way too sensitive for anything direct, like an electric shock between the legs, so you stick to stroking the length of it.

Falling into the routine of your favorite spots makes your breaths come heavier, but it plateaus. No dirty magazines, you have to use your imagination. With a free hand tugging at your hair and sweat beading at your brow, you try to recall what’s worked before.

In your mind, all you can see is Michael in that damn black t-shirt. A dirty thrill runs down your spine as you trace the line of his body underneath it, your fingers dipping lower and slick themselves to pleasure your cock better.

That one jumpsuit of his that's smaller than the rest, the way it hugs his ass and accentuates his waist should be considered lethal. How he might look with his erection straining against the fabric, chapped lips and blush peeking out underneath his mask…

It feels so good. Your hips move in rhythmic little thrusts, your mind a haze, unsure if you want to ride to your finish on Michael’s thigh or fuck him into putty. The T shot has you craving it so bad it aches, your mouth watering like an eager virgin.

You swallow and it doesn’t matter which part of you you imagine him filling because your thighs are tensing as you approach the precipice.

A groan pushes itself out of your chest amid your panting as your fingers dance over where you’re more sensitive, wishing it was his large, strong hands playing you instead.

“Mmm Michael-”, it turns into a breathless keen, your free hand now grasping at the sheets.

Working yourself hard and fast, almost like a punishment for saying the forbidden part outloud, it rushes towards you in an explosive wave.

“Ah-!”

An almost startled moan escapes you before you can stifle yourself. Mind blanking and body reeling through the pleasure, your fingers continue to work you through a powerful orgasm.

It takes several moments before the room begins to bleed back into awareness as you milk out the sensation just a little longer, only stopping when the stimulation becomes too much.

And you start to catch your breath.

***

The room is dark and his view is interrupted by wooden slats with the closet door between you both. Even so, he can make out your form just enough and hear all the sweet noises you make

[astr0exe]

Hi!!! can i request some maybe stalker! micheal with TM reader?? maybe possessive or mean micheal????? only if you want to ofc!! please ignore if you don’t feel comfortable writing this!!! i hope you have the best day!!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

UGH THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE DARLIN !! HOPE U LIKE IT 🫶🏻🫶🏻 i love michael sm like aghssvdksbxkdhks HAVE A GREAT DAY 🩶🩶 tried to make this as most like michael as possible

CW : tm!reader , mean michael , choking , creampie , spanking (1) , no dialogue , possessive nature , stalking (?)

His eyes follow you along the road, he squints frustrated, glaring at the man who was just talking to you, his darling, speaking to some… depraved man (as if he isn’t one himself).

Michael entering your shared home is loud, unlike the usual silence he embodies. He huffs loudly under his mask, you can feel his annoyance from across the living room, even more so as he stalks closer to you. His large hands grip at your sides tightly, almost painfully, you know it will leave marks in the morning. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

His anger permeates through the room as he groans in your ear. One of his hands moving to grip your neck, his eyes are still narrow as he stares you down. Huffing and groaning from pure anger, his arousal is obvious, even despite his jealousy. He roughly removes both of your pants, ripping yours into pieces as he lowers down the zip on his boiler suit. His hand moves down to your arse, gripping it tightly before smacking it. Your yelp is loud and conveys not only the surprise and pain but also the pleasure you feel.

His fingers make their way between your legs, the fact you are already soaked makes him smirk, his face is in the crook of your neck as his fingers stroke past your swollen cock making a moan escape your throat lowly. Two of his thick fingers make their way into your hole, even with how wet you are there is still slight discomfort. Michael doesn’t notice your discomfort or if he does he doesn’t seem to care, his fingers start pounding into you harshly. Your head is thrown back from the overwhelming sudden pleasure, bordering on pain as he growls into your ear, his other hand still tightly on your throat, tightened at random intervals.

As he removes his fingers which is now drenched in your essence, he sighs as he moves his fingers underneath his mask, sucking off the juices, the taste making him moan whilst he lines his bulbous cock up with your slick hole. Michael can’t help but groan as he enters you with one aggressive thrust, smirking under his mask at your cacophony of sounds. His pace is rough and mean, no love or affection is held in his gaze or hold, pure anger radiates through him as he jackhammers into you. His body overshadowing yours, your whole being is revolving around Michael, all you are able to see or feel is him.

Your cunt clenches around his dick tightly as the waves of pleasure assault your body. His hand loosens around your neck slightly so instead you are staring him in the eyes as you orgasm around him, proving his dominance over you as his hot cum spurts into you. This silent display of power over you is so hot to see, despite the initial surprise, you will always love your Michael just as he will always love his darling. Even without words you will always understand him.

[taylordeerskull]

Masterlist Slashers Part 2

Part 1

Billy Lenz:

Brahms Heelshire:

Jesse Cromeans(Chromeskull):

Asa Emory (The Collector):

More will come...

[struckd0wn]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤- 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐕𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬

Jason had you on your hands and knees as he pounded into you ruthlessly from behind. He smelled of dirt and fire wood, pushing you down so that now just your ass was up. He was completely silent the whole time and you were embarrassed to be the only one expressing your pleasure out loud but that didn't mean he didn't show his at all.

He wrapped one arm around you, his cheat against your back, continuing to rut into you. You moan loudly into the pillow of the old camp bed. Jason pushed his masked face into your neck and the plastic hurt as it dig into your skin but you make no complaints. His breathing is heavy in your ear and you could feel him starting to loose himself, but not before you did. You came around his cock, screaming into the pillow as you held onto the bed for dear life. Jason was just getting started though and he continued to thrust his soaked dick into your messy cunt.

[marriedtoasexykiller]

!! INTRO !!

Howdy! My name is Rowan!

I am a trans man and I use he/him, though I'm ok with they/them!

I am neurodivergent and my current hyperfix is Tcm and leatherface! I am also a fan of DBD and slahsers as a whole!

I don't post as often as I should and I'm working on it :'3

I hope I make good friends here and fell leatherface fans! ^_^

[slasher-dasher]

White Christmas

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

(trans!Billy Lenz x gn!reader; Warnings: NSFW, eating out [Billy receiving], somnophilia if you squint, ropes, marking/biting)

The door closed surprisingly gently behind you as your foot pushed it shut. Your hands were too preoccupied with bags and boxes to worry about the sleeping figure on the couch for the moment. He must have been waiting for you, not wanting to go to the “mandatory” work party nor be left alone, to the point that he practically begged you to fake an illness so you wouldn’t have to go. You placed the items in your arms on the counters and put the cold things you had stolen for Billy in the fridge as you settled down from the event. Speaking of, he was still being quiet. You crept over to him, carefully pushing a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes. Billy slept on his stomach most of the time, so seeing him splayed out on his back like this was a rare (and beautiful) sight. His arms were crossed behind his head to use as a pillow (despite him laying on two of the throw pillows), head turned to press into the side of his arm. His sweater rose and fell with his gentle breaths and almost hid the slight curve of his waist under the stitches of the yarn. You had made this one for him last year, and it very quickly became his favorite.  The jeans he had fallen asleep in looked uncomfortable, to say the least. They clung to his hips in a way you knew made him uncomfortable, which is probably why he was sleeping on his back. Your hand moved to wake him up, to let him know you were home so he wouldn’t worry, but you stopped yourself. Billy had been good this holiday, and you had promised him a present when you got back.

Billy’s eyes flutter open to the feeling of your lips against his skin. Soft kisses peppered around his face and neck, two of the places you know he’s always comfortable with.  A smile spreads across his lips as he moves to wrap his arms around your neck, but finds them tied behind his head.

“You looked so pretty on the couch, but I thought you’d be more comfortable on the bed,” you spoke between kisses, pressing a deep one to his lips as your hands ran across his thighs. Sleep is still present in Billy’s eyes when you pull away and his body arches into yours instinctively. Good. That’s a sign he’s okay with this. Your lips find their way back to his neck while your hands work on the jeans. Despite looking like paint on him, they slip off with ease, revealing cute Christmas-themed stockings underneath them. Billy let out a soft gasp as the air washed over his skin, the sound turning into a moan once your teeth bit down on a spot that made him writhe. Luckily, he was very easy to work up. Your hands ghosted over his skin while your teeth kept marking his neck. The sweater had stayed on, but you pushed it up to rest just above his stomach, making note of the whine that had escaped Billy’s throat as you did.

“Do you have something to say, pretty boy?” That name made his eyes snap to you, a blush growing across his cheeks.

“You woke me up to tease me,” he pouted, eyes threatening to flutter closed at any second. A chuckle left your lips, and you lowered yourself to trail kisses down his navel. He shuddered, eyes now locked on your movements with anticipation. Billy’s breathing picked up as you got closer to his arousal, whining loudly every time you moved to mark one of his thighs instead. You relented after a particularly desperate squirm, knowing he’d been patient for long enough. The sound that followed was heavenly to your ears. A loud moan erupted from Billy as he arched into your tongue.

“You woke me up to tease me,” he pouted, eyes threatening to flutter closed at any second. A chuckle left your lips, and you lowered yourself to trail kisses down his navel. He shuddered, eyes now locked on your movements with anticipation. Billy’s breathing picked up as you got closer to his arousal, whining loudly every time you moved to mark one of his thighs instead. You relented after a particularly desperate squirm, knowing he’d been patient for long enough. The sound that followed was heavenly to your ears. A loud moan erupted from Billy as he arched into your tongue. His legs were lifted onto your shoulders, tightening almost immediately as your tongue lapped at his growth like you were starving. In a way, you were. He’d been reduced to a moaning mess, head thrown back against the pillows and hips pressed firmly against your face, the legs keeping them there shaking furiously as you slipped your fingers into him with ease. It didn’t take more than a few pumps for him to completely unravel under the pleasure, pulsing around your fingers as he fell limp against the bed. Stray moans left his lips and his breaths were long and labored as his eyes met yours, lips weakly melding into a loving kiss while you untied his wrists.

You cleaned Billy up quickly, grabbing a new pair of pants for him before he could protest. Billy rarely wore anything more than boxers with you now, but a little extra care and clothes wouldn’t hurt for tonight. As you were about to ask if he wanted to be left alone, as he usually did, he tugged you into the bed, snuggling into your chest like you were his lifeline.

“Merry Christmas Billy~” A soft smile and a nod from the other was the only response you were getting tonight. Arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled in a lazy mess, he was at peace.

[soupbabe]

Otis driftwood with an enby s/o who’s insecure about their lack of gender? Like, they’ll dress kinda fem one day and then hella masculine the other day, and peoples confused or just condescending comments get to them??

(No I’m not projecting-)

Otis Driftwood with an Insecure! Non-Binary! S/o

Not sure how comforting this can count as, but Otis tries to be in his own way 😅

- I've said this before in other trans related Otis posts, but Otis takes a lot of pride in his masculinity and gender identity

-He preaches that your identity is unique and if someone tries to that away from you, they can go fuck themselves

- He encourages you to dress however the fuck you like, he doesn't care if you're in a dress or not

- What problems people have with you can remain between him and a knife, y'know? He views an attack on you as an attack on him and his family

- Side note: the family loves you !! I'm sure they'll give you all the more sincere hugs and kind words that Otis can't really do

- Just not his style, consider his love language acts of service or gift giving

- Very vengeful through his art, will go through lengths to strip away someone's masculinity and femininity just because they tried to strip you of your identity

- You're his partner, no one is gonna fuck with you and remain in one piece 🤷

- But in a more lighthearted note, he dedicates this art to you

- It's more than fueling his sadism, it's something a bit more sentimental for him

- tbh it's as sentimental as Otis can get, so I think it counts as a sweet gesture

[gvtted-ratz]

>request/idea rules<

requests: open

>MXTX<

literally just about any character from mdzs, tcgf, or svsss

>GAMES<

error 143

micah yujin

john doe +

john doe

duskwood 

richy rogers, phil hawkins, jake "hakermen", thomas, daniel "dan" anderson

nitro+chiral

just about any character from any games they have, just ask

killer frequency

forrest nash, henry barrow

the price of flesh

machaete, thomas (tom), jackal (jack/dean), derek goffard, matt goffard, mason heiral, dragon (jace/jason), komodo (mike/michael), the announcer (fox/ren hana)

studio investigrave games

rody lamoree, vincent charbonneau, protagonist, co-worker, normal guy, fake protag, fake co-worker

call of duty (+modern warfare 2)

könig, simon "ghost" riley, kyle "gaz" garrick, john "soap" mactavish, alejandro vargas, rodolfo "rudy" parra, gary "roach" sanderson

>HORROR/THRILLER<

slashers/antagonists

billy lenz (black christmas 1974), brahms heelshire, martin mathias (martin 1977), harry warden/the miner (og and remake), asa emory (the collector), jason voorhees (og and 2009 remake), michael myers (og and rz remake), lester sinclair (house of wax), vincent sinclair (house of wax), mark hoffman (saw 4/5), lawrance gordan (saw 2004), hannibal lecter (nbc hannibal), will graham (nbc hannibal)

final/”good” guys

arkin o'brien (the collector/the collection), nicholas "nick" henry jones (house of wax), peter strahm (saw 4/5), adam faulkner stanheight (saw 2004), david radford (saw 0.5)

>TV/MOVIES/WEB-SERIES<

the batman (2022)

the riddler/edward nashton

marble hornets (2009-2014)

masky/timothy "tim" wright, skully/jay merrick, alexander "alex" kralie, hoody/brian thomas

>WILL NOT DO<

• incest

• suicide

• ddlg/ddlb

• scat/urine

• pregnancy

• heavy angst

• age regression

• teacher/student

• sa/rape/non-con

• full smut/sex scenes

• illnesses/issues we're unfamiliar with (ask)

• underage/child anything (papa, uncle, child, etc. reader &/or character) - this includes childhood friend AUs

• fem reader (including pronouns/detailed anatomy due to high discomfort) - anything else is fine

>CAN/WILL DO<

• fics (1k+)

• past abuse

• headcanons

• past self-harm

• drabbles (100-1k)

• alpha/beta/omega

• polyamory relationships

• blood, gore, violence, etc.

• anything soft, comfort, fluff

• aus (soulmate, cafe, bookstore, etc.)

• some ships/otps/rarepairs (feel free to ask)

• death of character/reader (character/reader kills the other)

• nearly any pronouns (including neos, just provide pronouns)

• male/masc, gender-neutral, nonbinary, trans male reader, inhuman reader (this includes monster, alien, divine etc.)

• "steamy" scenes/dub-con <- will be posted on ao3 ONLY (link will be provided for requests)

[rokishimizu4]

Letters from Snake Shoppe for Cosplay Con

Ello~ everyone, I have an amazing idea to write different letters and pass them out when I go to the Cosplay Con. However, I don’t know which anime, video games, books, movies, etc to do.

That’s where you come in~. The top five will also be put up on my tumblr for everyone to enjoy~.

I’m making letters from Death Note and the FNAF series

[broken-glass-puppet]

Guys guys! It's spooky month! Theme this October: slashers, Creepypastas or anything horror related, you can ask for one shots, headcanons and shit, slashers and Creepypastas both platonic and romantic, I do male,trans male and gender neutral readers, not female readers

You can ask for light nsfw since I'm a minor

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch20

Michael Myers x ftm reader

Read on ao3

Staring at the photo wishing it would change, your chest begins to hurt. You don’t know when you’ve sunk down onto your knees, but your free arm wraps tight around your torso as short breaths whistle past your teeth.

Your brain buzzes with too many thoughts, but it’s almost a background noise to the panic that grips you. Something inside you wishes Michael was here.

You force your fingers to drop the photo and your eyes stare at the empty space it used to be. Curling your fingers into a fist, the sensation of nails digging into your palm grounds you just enough to suck in some deeper breaths. Getting oxygen to your brain gets you short commands and jeers from some detached part of yourself focused on survival.

‘Get up’.

’Get up. You left your doors unlocked and now you have to fix this.’

On shaky legs and arms, you pull yourself up using the counter. Your eyes land on the back door and you lurch over to lock it.

***

You walk thirty minutes to the nearest thrift store, looking over your shoulder constantly, and load yourself with as many blankets as they’ll allow you to buy (nearly all of them, the clerk didn’t care). The trek home carrying the pile was awkward, but the physical exertion kept your mind focused.

Dumping the blankets in a heap and stepping over them, you head towards your toolbox to grab a hammer and nails. To hell with the walls, you can spackle them when the house has less pressing priorities.

You immediately wish Michael would make his stupid height useful for once and was here to help you.

Your new (mismatched and fleecy) curtains go up with sweat and swearing, and you drive nails into the frames of windows with loose locks. Come summer, you may regret not being able to open the windows, but for now these blankets will help insulate and protect you from peeping Toms. And hopefully stalking Steves.

Exhaustion hits all at once and you drop the hammer after the last window, probably denting your bedroom floor, but you couldn’t care less.

You turn towards your bed feeling like you could fall into it (literally, you still don’t have a bed frame).

But you don’t feel safe here. Not after that picture.

It makes you feel nauseous thinking about it and you wish, not for the first time, that you could be anywhere but here. You want to ask Quentin if you could stay over again, but you can’t risk getting him hurt.

The frustration of it all makes you want to cry and have a meltdown, but the testosterone in your body won’t let you. Your feet move on their own, practically running out of the room.

You don’t know why you end up standing in the doorway of Michael’s, but what you do know is that being there relieves some of the pressure in your head and chest.

It’s barren- not that your room is much better. You haven’t truly been in here since you moved in and the grey light through the window highlights the faded wallpaper and dusty floor.

A ratty sleeping bag is bunched along the wall facing towards the door. You feel guilty when you don’t see a pillow, just a small pile of bunched up clothes.

You’re hesitant stepping inside, crossing what has always been a boundary for the two of you. It feels forbidden, but the exhaustion left behind after the initial torrent of emotion and subsequent exertion leaves your knees weak and you sink down onto the sleeping bag.

Curling in on yourself, your fingers pull at something from his clothes pile. His black t-shirt.

Over the mustiness of the sleeping bag, his shirt smells like the deodorant you bought and something more distinctly him. Normally you would probably be more grossed out, but right now you close your eyes and feel comforted instead.

Your heart aches.

***

Michael left before the sun came up, he just couldn’t be around you right now. The closer it gets to Halloween, the more the itch becomes an urge becomes a burn and he can’t be sure the urge to put his hands on you will stay gentle. And if not gentle, at the very least survivable.

Since that night you confronted him, he’s been picking over the new feelings with more curiosity than frustration. Keeping things from you and trying to force things his way wasn’t working the way he thought it would, you’re not the same person he used to stalk anymore. Instead of running, you confront him; don’t get him wrong, Michael’s blood still runs hot for the chase, but this new familiarity leaves your vulnerability for teasing wide open.

Michael grips the handle of his knife harder thinking about the way your eyes widen when he steps into your space and your protests fall silent on your tongue, knowing you’re at his mercy. The way you squirm and try to hold your ground, pretending it does nothing to you - he can almost hear your heartbeat.

The woman he’s been stalking from the park’s tree line does nothing special for him, but watching her from this distance and biding his time satiates the buzz in the back of his head. It excites him too. Watching, waiting…it almost edges him, building up to the moment he can feel the pulse in someone’s neck speed up and give out or feel the knife slip past skin and bone. Their indulgent color red spilling out of them like a release, stuttering their final breaths.

From this distance, the woman’s blonde hair almost looks like Laurie’s. Michael exhales. He doesn’t like her so near to you. The night you went to the place with the campfire, he wanted to kill you then just to keep you away from her. But you went with him instead, promising him anything. And so he didn’t kill them that night.

But Laurie is still orbiting this house and you. So Michael may soon have to take that anything.

The blonde woman is joined by an unremarkable man and she emotes heavily to show her enthusiasm. The man looks almost bored, an indifference that Michael used to match for the rest of the world.

His favorite part of boring people was how much they would change when his knife was in them.

When the two begin to follow the wooded biking trail, Michael matches their leisurely pace out of sight. The sun is on its path down the sky and ducking behind clouds along the way. His vision tunnels with bloodlust, the longer he tracks, the longer his anticipation for the kill grows- keeping you at the back of his mind and humming under his skin.

***

The cardboard in the glass of the door is easily punched in, unnoticed in the dark. Stepping into the vestibule with the liquidity of a cat, Michael shuts the door behind him with a soft click.

He looks down at his boots. Mud and something that rhymes with it. Memories of the last time he made tracks in the house make him contemplate doing it again.

Michael toes off his boots. Without them, he’s quiet as a ghost, moving into the kitchen to find something to tear into.

His muscles feel relaxed and loose as he pulls the remnants of some Chinese takeout from the fridge, as if the red on his skin was a massage oil. He doesn’t bother with utensils and uses his fingers to pull noodles into his mouth, sticky brown sauce gaining a new iron flavor.

The empty container goes in the trash this time because Michael is in a good enough mood to follow your rules. He wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve, having sated his two other needs tonight he begins to search for you.

Michael doesn’t plan for when he finds you, he just follows the trend of satisfaction he’s riding on. He enjoys the search of the bottom level of the house, the thrill of seeking excites him as if you two were playing a game.

Clearing the floor, he stops before the stairs looking up into the dark. Each step drags it out, bringing the second floor into view. The bathroom is dark and the door is open, leaving your bedroom as the last possibility.

Breath hot against his mask, Michael pushes your door open. You don’t jump at his entrance and your bed lies empty.

Confused and then frustrated, Michael huffs against his mask, his game ruined.

He exits, annoyed and ready to make that your problem.

His room is dark, but unlike the others where you seem to have blocked the windows, the moon and streetlights give enough ambient light to see the floor. Immediately, Michael can tell that things have moved.

Instinct has him strung tense in a moment as his gaze falls on your form. Fighting back the urge to yank you by the ankle, Michael walks closer. The fight response slowly dwindles as he silently observes, your form curled around his shirt replacing it with a different kind of tension.

Your arms are tucked in on yourself with his shirt, goosebumps prickling your flesh. Michael wants to run his hands over them and watch as your body shifts from sleep to surprise.

Would you try to get up and leave? Or maybe you would curl into his warmth…

Feeling a flush of heat, he turns and leaves the room. His legs carry him to yours and he pulls the blanket off your mattress. You don’t stir when he lays it over you, wrapping you up among his things.

Michael is good at watching and waiting.

[astr0exe]

trans male reader x Brahms where they have to move bc where they live isn’t safe for trans ppl anymore (sorry about all the abbreviations I’m tired)

love this man so much:( m also super tired lol 🫶🏻 travelling in a coach for like 20+ hours n thats without border control factored in 😔 BUT hope you like this ml <33 Brahms hurt comfort anyone ⁉️🩶

Your home wasn’t safe anymore. People were throwing bricks through windows and you couldn’t do anything you stop it. You couldn’t go to the police cause most of them were friends with people who were harassing you. You couldn’t even leave your home, all you could do was curl into Brahms and try to hide, begging desperately for all of this to be some horrible nightmare. But it wasn’t, this was reality and this was your safety..

Your home wasn’t safe anymore, the old childhood home of your partner wasn’t safe. Brahms didn’t understand, he tried! He really really tried, but he couldn’t fathom people being mean to you for something you can’t control. Nor why that means you have to leave. In the beginning he outright refused, huffing and saying he will just kill the bigots and as much as you would like that it just wasn’t possible. The whole town hated you, you couldn’t let Brahms possibly get caught for murdering the whole town. So all you could do was console each other, at the loss of your shared home. Both of you distraught at the horrific situation.

Your home wasn’t safe anymore, the boxes were almost as heavy as your heart as you move them into your new house. Not home. House. It’s cold, has no life, no space for Brahms to explore and hide.. You are just hoping that once everything is moved in it will feel warmer, protected. That night you and Brahms hold each other tightly, the bedroom feeling foreign and more like a hotel than your new room. But that night as you lay in Brahms’ strong arms you dream.. You feel soft, fuzzy, warm..

Your home is safe now, because your home is Brahms.

[taylordeerskull]

Masterlist Slashers

Part 1

Hannibal Lecter:

Will Graham:

Dexter Morgan:

Ghostface (Billy Loomis):

Ghostface (Stu Macher):

Michael Myers:

Jason Voorhees:

Bubba Sawyer:

Part two...

[struckd0wn]

Could you make s'more Johnny Sawyer/Slaughter content pls? There's legit zero to none f'him with m/ftm readers, your kinktober fic of'him is the first i've seen in the time span the game's been out /(;^;)\

a/n: I am so sorry I am just now getting to this, I'm also sorry if this is not exactly what you imagined for a fic, I was just thinking off the top of my head lol

Tw: blood and cannibalism

Bath time - Johnny Sawyer

You're covered in deep crimson blood. It drips off of you, seeping into you clothes. It's smeared all over your skin, you face and arms getting the worst of it. You had helped with the weekly dismembering, chopping up bodies the family would eat for dinner. You still refused to eat the flesh of strangers, opting for eggs you'd get from the chickens around the farm.

Johnny comes up from behind you, wrapping his muscular arms around you. "Nice job baby," The taller male whispers into your ear, kissing along the crook of your neck. "Your so hot when you're dripping in blood, you look so badass." Your boyfriend teases, turning you around in his arms so he can meet your eyes. You complain about the mess, annoyed from the strong metallic smell that was starting to give you a headache.

Although Johnny didn't really mind the mess, he didn't know if he wanted to deal with you begin irritated for the rest of the day so he drags you into the house. You're careful to not touch anything once inside, not wanting to dirty anything as you walk up the stairs and to the bathroom.

The bathroom is poorly lit, not extremely clean but it's not to terrible. It's small, Johnny takes up a lot of the space as he undresses, throwing his bloodied clothes all over the floor. You think to scold him, the clothes would surely mess up the floor but you don't say anything, turning your back to the large male as you strip. You hear John shuffle behind you, placing his large hands on the waistband of you jeans, jeans that were actually his. He slides them over you hips, letting them drop the the floor with a soft thud.

His hands roam along you sides and abdomen, fingers further smearing the blood on your soft skin. You want to enjoy his touch but when his bare chest meats you back you can feel the blood on him rub of on you, pushing him of with a gentle jab to his gut with you elbow. You lover laughs playfully, turning the shower on to warm. You cover yourself with the best of your ability, and although you shouldn't be so self-conscious (seeing as Johnny has seen you in such vulnerable states before), you can't help but feel a little insecure in comparison to him.

Johnny has much more muscle mass then you, his chest and back are defined from hard work on the farm. His legs as strong and he shoulders broad. Top surgery had helped your dysphoria a bit but now everytime you look at your boyfriend you felt a bit jealous, or maybe even a yearning. Johnny, of course, was oblivious to this. He was brought up extremely sheltered, only able to get out to hunter for dinner.

Johnny hadn't seen much trans people at all and to be fair he didn't really understand but always respected people regardless. You've tried to explain to him but he just hasn't fully grasped the concept yet, doesn't understand why you'd be jealous of his physique. John thinks you're stunning regardless.

----

The two of you sit in the tub together, deciding after your shower to just relaxe a bit in the bath. The bathtub is small, Johnny has to bend his legs at the knee to fit, you sit in between his legs, leaning against his strong chest. His hand rake through you wet hair, almost sending you to sleep. "Don't fall asleep on me now." A chuckle rumbles through his chest, making the water ripple around you.

Johnny shuffles underneath you, his fingers hold you tight against him. He kisses the nape of your neck, his callused hands kneed the soft flesh of your thighs from under the water. You turn to your side, looking at your boyfriend as he lazily drags his hands all over you. He watches your flustered expression as he caresses you, smirking down at you wildly. The bigger male grabs hold of your waist, turning you so you face him directly.

You struggle to straddling Johnny in the cramped bathtub, but you manage. He pulls you into him, kissing you roughly as the water around you sloshed around. He palms at the flesh of you ass, squeezing it softly. You moan pathetically into his mouth when you feel his erection throb underneath you. John moves a hand off of you ass, bringing it to your front and inbetween the both of you. He runs his fingers through you folds, the sensation of water adding additional wetness to your already leaking cunt. You moan again, only louder, your lover chuckles deeply, pressing another quick kiss to your swollen lips. "You'll have to keep quiet, we don't know who's all in the house."

You blush brightly at the thought of the others hearing you. You know Drayton is probably in the house, either cooking food or tidying up the kitchen. Bubba would most likely be outside, but you're unsure of where Nubbins and Sissy might be. While you're distracted the man below you slides a finger into you pussy, brushing against the spot that drives you insane. He smiled as you try to keep quiet, shoving your face into the crook of his neck to do so.

Johnny groans lowly after hearing you moan his name, feeling you rub against his erection needely as he fucks you on his long fingers. He hoped to tease you a bit longer but he really can't help himself. The bigger male removes his fingers from your cunt but he's sure to replace it soon after with the tip of his cock. You whine as he pushes into your heat, filling you effortlessly. "Fuck baby, you feel so good." He purrs, holding your ass in both hands and he grinds you against his cock.

The strain of trying to keep quiet almost gives you a headache, biting down on your boyfriends collarbone to hush yourself. Johnny hisses at the pain, laughing at your futile attempts. "You know what, let then hear you. I want them to hear how good I fuck you." He teases, watching you turn bright red at the thought. You shake your head no, biting down on him harder to maybe silence his teasing. He continues regardless, lifting you up and down on his cock, the water around the two of you splashing slightly, some ever spilling out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor.

"You looked so hot earlier, dripping in blood," John reminds you, mouth falling open in a silent groan, composing himself before he continues to talk. "It got me so hard, it was difficult to keep working. I was waiting for this." Your lover continues to ramble on, thrusting up into you harshly. "Next time will you let me fuck you like that, covered in blood." The thought eggs him on, speeding up as he imagines it. You can't even respond, fucked dumb on his shaft as he plows into your wet cunt.

Inevitably it was impossible for you to stay quiet, and to be fair John was being much louder than you anyways. What a hypocrite. Your orgasms coils in the pit of you stomach, you grow louder and louder, ultimately forgetting your embarrassment and need to be quite. His name spills from your lips, whining loudly before you cum, shaking in his strong arms.

Johnny curses profanities, feeling your pussy clench and pulse around him in result of your orgasm. His grip on you is tight, leaving bruises on your soft flesh. "Yeah just like that darling." He mumbles, it doesn't take long for Johnny to cum, filling you full of his warm seed. He uses you to ride out his orgasm, making you cry out in overstimulation.

The water stills and both of your laboured breaths filll the small room. You whince as the bigger man pulls you off of him, soiling the water with a mixture of both of your juices.

After a bit, johnny stands, pulling you up with him. He dries you off gently before wrapping the towel around your naked form, tying his own towel around his waist. He kisses you sweetly on the forehead, draining the tub before leading you twords the bathroom door.

You almost run right into the figure on the other side, Johnny has to stop you with a strong arm. Bubba stands there awkwardly, silent as per usual. You hold the towel against yourself tightly, averting your gaze in embarrassment. "Hey, don't you know it's weird to ease drop!" Johnny exclaims, pushing the masked man to the side.

"There's no need too, we could all hear you anyways." You hear Sissy scoffs as she descends the wooden staircase.

Well, dinner tonight was going to be awkward.

[samyour-goodboy0]

Hello darlings~!

How are you~! ♡ if your doing good that great~! If you not doing good wanna talk about it? Text me I will try my best to comfort you ♡

Well I am Sam I can take any request you have my dear even if it is one of the most weird hardcore or wholesome request I will do it because I have no boundaries or limits I can do any reader and any gender don’t worry I won’t judge you but I will ask you to be more specific~! 😗

[echosofhorrorxx]

I have a horror movie/Halloween horror nights discord server!! DM me if you're interested!! :))

Minors/agless blogs DNI