"Stick your tongue out and use it, you fat bitch!"
I felt the tip of his heavy lug-soled boot press harder against my forehead. I felt disgust—not fear, no... disgust. I was raised in a family with good manners, and being humiliated to this degree, being forced to lick a filthy boot, was something that had never crossed my mind. I never imagined I would have to submit to something so revolting.
I stuck out my trembling pink tongue, mixed with the stream of tears that wouldn't stop sliding down my oval face. He was right. I was like a pig—a filthy, fat woman covered in self-harm scars from high school onward, constantly trying to feel even remotely beautiful. But I knew... I knew I couldn't hold a candle to his other victims. And after the little show...
"Very well, little devil, I underestimated you a bit... Hehe."
My mouth now had a taste I tried my absolute best to ignore. It was like torture—in fact, it was torture! I looked down as far as my muzzle would allow and stared at my thick scars.
"There’s no fun in punishing you. Your body is a rotting cesspool. Turn around."
I was on all fours, like a dog on the floor, dressed in cheap whore's clothes, tied up in places, and completely exposed—except for my crotch, which was covered with a painful piece of black tape. I turned around and braced my mind for the pain. I heard a sharp crack against the wall; he had pulled off his belt.
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I swear to fucking God if I see one more gatekeeper asshole on my dash I'm going to punch a wall.
You have to be real self centered to get mad at creativity with headcanons.
Like baby, if you want the real character and every other variant is awful to you, then maybe.... stop reading fanfiction altogether. You know why? Because those slashers will never ever find you interesting, they will never be your friend, they will never love you, and they will never let you survive. If headcanons that deviate even a little piss you off so much, then maybe you should just stick to rewatching the movies 800x and living in your own rigid ass headcanon. Or you could shut the fuck up and put out YOUR OWN FANFICTION, yes! Write your own work and put it out on the internet for free like all the other hardworking creatives that make this website incredible! Instead you just bitch and complain about how the creatives didn't make what you like. Guess what? You have FREE WILL AND YOU CAN JUST NOT READ THEIR WORK.
Anyway, this isn't something that happened to me in particular it's just anti creatives making posts that no one should be agreeing with and that trash ass post coming across my page.
I have certain things I prefer with slashers, and there are things I dislike seeing in writing about my comfort characters but I still respect that someone took the time to write out something for the Public to enjoy; I have this wild understanding that not everyone is like me, and thats ok, maybe its something that comes with maturity lmao. I respect the hell out of people who can be constantly creative and bestow their work on the internet for no cost just because they are nice enough to share their passion.
Anyway, sorry for the rant to my followers. I'm just so tired of the netizens of this site sometimes, they just act so entitled and complain SO MUCH about things that they could just skip over. I love you all, I will have work coming in dribbles, a lot of loved ones are keeping me very busy, plus im doing coursework, so I haven't been able to draw or write in a while. Your patience is a virtue, and you are all special to me.
His Obsession (Danny Johnson - The Ghost Face- x AFAB!Reader) (NSFW
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Mildly Dubious Consent, You know how Danny is, Boot Worship, AFAB reader, Reader is a survivor, Degradation, Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Dom/sub, Physical Abuse
Summary:
“My last trial was against Ghost Face”
“Oh, that guys sucks.” You groaned, “The worst part is the whole photography thing… It’s so… unnerving.” You couldn’t help but say your piece when they mentioned the killer. He had to be one of your least favorites to face. The way you had to always look behind you, the feeling of being watched, it was creepy.
“Photography thing?” Jake tilted his head “Like, when the picture he takes for his mori?”
“Uh… yeah but also every other time he’s taking pictures of you, when you’re screaming on the hook, when you’re crawling on the floor, you know? Those pictures?” You were a bit confused, your attempt to relate to them going over their heads.
“I don’t remember him doing that…” Dwight looked over at Nea who nodded.
“What do you mean? He’s always taking pictures of me, isn’t that something he does to everyone?”
or
Reader attracted the wrong kind of attention.
You were all sitting around the campfire as another group of four people returned from their trial, their faces were tired and you offered them a sympathetic smile.
“How did it go?” Jake asked Nea as she sat down, she shook her head and sighed.
“All sacrificed, bastard took us all to the basement…” she answered with annoyance in her voice.
“Who was it?” Ace chimed in.
“Ghost Face.”
“Oh, that guys sucks.” You groaned, “The worst part is the whole photography thing… It’s so… unnerving.” You couldn’t help but say your piece when they mentioned the killer. He had to be one of your least favorites to face. The way you had to always look behind you, the feeling of being watched, it was creepy.
“Photography thing?” Jake tilted his head “Like, when the picture he takes for his mori?”
“Uh… yeah but also every other time he’s taking pictures of you, when you’re screaming on the hook, when you’re crawling on the floor, you know? Those pictures?” You were a bit confused, your attempt to relate to them going over their heads.
“I don’t remember him doing that…” Dwight looked over at Nea who nodded.
“What do you mean? He’s always taking pictures of me, isn’t that something he does to everyone?” You ask nervously.
“Wait, wait, explain, he just takes pics of you all the time?” Nea smirked in amusement “That’s kind of hilarious, maybe you’re his muse.”
The others laughed along and so did you, you playfully push Nea and shook your head.
You and the other survivors keep talking and trying to ease the post-trial depression, you were smiling along with them but you couldn’t help but start zoning out thinking about the revelation that you were the only one facing Ghost Face’s camera all throughout the trials. He would hook you and quickly snap a picture, never shutting up about how pretty you looked bleeding out for him.
It was disgusting of course, but you didn’t take it personally because you assumed this creepy attitude extended itself to all survivors. The realization that it wasn’t the case sent shivers down your spine and a strange heat to your cheeks.
You couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered. You felt disgusted at yourself for feeling this way and immediately repressed the thought immediately. You were definitely not looking forward to your next trial with the masked man.
Alas, the Entity had a sick sense of humor. In your very next trial you were face to face with Ghost Face, not only that but you were the last one alive. You were running as fast as you could, he chased you down with his knife and you knew you were done for, you were never the best at evading killers in a chase. You vaulted over a window only to feel the blade of his knife slashing your back, you felt it again, the hit sending you straight to the ground.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love seeing you like this?” he said, wiping his bloodied knife on his sleeve before reaching for his camera. “On the ground writhing in pain completely at my mercy… let’s turn you over, show your pretty face to the camera, hm?”
He kicked your side and you whimpered as you rolled over with your back to the floor looking up at the man towering above you. “Beautiful… that’s it…” he breathed before pressing his leather combat boots on your chest, the pressure didn’t hurt but felt extremely humiliating. Worse yet, it was kind of hot. You looked away from him in shame, making him tut you in disappointment. He pushed his boot on your neck forcing your chin upwards and your gaze towards the camera again. “If you try to look away again I’ll gorge out your eyeballs, kitten”
“Just… kill me already, what are you doing?” You said through gritted teeth.
“Ah, you wound me, can’t I just enjoy our time together while it lasts?” His boot pressed harder against your chest now hurting you for real. “I just can’t get enough of you, you look so cute when you’re scared.”
“Oh I wound you? That’s rich.” You scoffed and that earned you a chuckle from him. He then crouched down and reached for your neck, just holding it as he straddled your body.
“You do and you should be more appreciative if you ask me,” his grip tightened, the rough fabric of his gloves bruising your skin as he did so, before letting go entirely. You gasped for air as he let go, coughing trying to catch your breath. “God… I just love watching you squirm,” he let his hands wander to your chest groping you through your clothes. You gasped feeling his touch reaching under your blouse.
“W-wait what are you doing?” You asked before moaning as he pinched your nipples.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he laughed at your reaction and reached for his knife and cut the fabric, annoyed at the barrier keeping him from you. “Aren’t you done pretending you don’t feel this?” he traced your skin lightly with the knife admiring the newly exposed area “This connection, this bond we share… don't you feel it?"
"You're insane…" you shook your head still trembling, he chuckled.
"Ah… you just need a bit convincing, I'm sure" he stabbed the ground right next to your face, making you shudder "because I feel it, baby. When I get to a trial and see your pretty ass crouching over a generator it makes me so happy. Hell, I even began visiting your little campsite just to watch you, you're driving me crazy…"
"W-wait, wait! Stop it!" You try to push him away again, but it was no use, he wouldn't budge. The struggle was annoying him so he grabbed your wrists and pushing them to the ground pinning you arms above your head.
"Look at you, you're trying so hard" his condescending tone pissed you off, you tried to kick him but you couldn’t angle yourself properly to manage a good hit. "Listen here." His other hand grabbed your throat, his tone was now dark. "I'm getting a little tired of your disobedience, kitten." He raised his hand before striking your face. The shock and the pain made you stop, feeling your whole body freeze. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to suck on the gloved digit. "I know you're enjoying this, you know you're enjoying this. So stop. Making. A scene."
You looked away, you repeated to yourself that he was wrong, you weren’t enjoying this. But you were. A dark side of your mind reveled in the pain, in the humiliation, in the disparity of praise and punishment. The daze of having to confront these shameful feelings left you vulnerable for the man to stop restraining you, instead pulling down your pants. He touched you over your panties, you couldn't help but moan at his ministrations.
“I knew you’d give in, knew I could make you my slut.” He laughed at your predicament “Look at how wet you are for me, kitten.” He punctuated his phrase by moving your underwear to the side and plunging two fingers inside, you gasped at the intrusion “See how easily that went in?” His face was right next to yours, the words made you blush and hide your face.
He was loving your reactions, but he was impatient. He had waited for this, he’d been planning this so carefully, he came over pictures of your bloody exhausted body more time than he could count. He stripped you naked, exposing you completely to him before he pulled out his cock from his pants.
You felt the head press against your soaked entrance, you shivered in anticipation and couldn’t help but give him a pleading look. He filled you with a single thrust, his hand immediately moving to your neck, the stretch hurt, you hadn’t had anything going in there ever since you entered the fog. You screamed and he chuckled when you grasped his shroud for support as he started thrusting inside you.
“You’re mine, slut, your body belongs to me, your cunt belongs to me, you belong to me.” He growled, his movements were harsh and violent. He was possessive and at that moment you couldn’t help but believe his words.
His hand travelled down your body grabbing your breasts before pulling your legs over his shoulders. The new angle made you moan, as the pain started giving place to pleasure, you couldn’t keep your voice down, with pleased Danny immensely. “That’s right… Fucking scream for me.”
He grabbed your waist pulling your body to meet his thrusts, his cock now reaching your sweet spot and your clit begged for attention, the bundle of nerves getting teased every time your hips met. You were desperate, it had been too long, you shook your head in shame and disbelief. You couldn’t believe you’d let a killer fuck you, much less make you come. Ghost Face noticed it immediately.
“Take my mask off, slut, I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum.” Your eyes widened, you weren’t expecting him to actually allow you to see his face. He grunted as he picked up the pace “Do it, whore.”
You eagerly reached for the white mask pushing it upwards letting it rest on top of his hood. His face, you were looking at his face. The intimacy of the gesture left you speechless but more importantly, he was hot. His hair was short and messy, his eyes were sunken and his stare was manic. He looked like a mess, a fucking psycho, because that’s what he was. You hated yourself even more for finding him attractive, his lips curved into a pedantic smirk. His movements got frenetic and his hand reached to brush you clit, making you scream and beg him.
“Please, please, please…” You pleaded, the pleasure coursing through your veins felt like lava. Your pussy ached for release. “Please l-let me cum…”
“Shit… you’re already begging, I didn’t have to say a thing” He chuckled, the clear sound of his voice now unrestricted by the mask sent shivers down your spine “Do it, I want you to know who owns you, who’s making you feel this good, cum for me, slut.”
“Ah! Yes…!” A loud moan escaped your lips, the fluttering spikes of pleasure finally culminating into a bursting orgasm, your hands clutched into fists, the man’s clothes still in your grasp, as you tried to ground yourself. Danny didn’t stop thrusting, the sight of you cumming under him made him swear and bite his lip.
“Fuck, you look so fucking hot… My perfect little toy” He thrusted a few more times into your limp exhausted body before pulling out entirely. The action made you gasp and Ghost Face held your jaw open before getting his camera again. “Stay still… I want to remember this” He fucked his gloved fist, smearing your wetness to the fabric, he jerked himself to completion right on your face, his cum staining your face and your mouth managing to catch some droplets. His groans were accompanied with a chuckle satisfied of his work.
The camera flash blinded you for a second, as he photographed your deplorable state. That’s how he liked you best.
A few weeks ago I had found a job babysitting, I needed a job and was exceptionally good with kids. It seemed like a nice place, although it was a long ways away, I booked the flight tickets and was off, already knowing the area and where the house was supposedly located, I knew that It would be a long ride, as I walked out of the airport an older man steps out of a Limousine, it was an older model of some sort of car.
“Hello, You must be y/n?” He asked.
“Yes, that's me.” I smiled.
He helped me put my luggage in the car, and opened the door. I bowed my head quickly in thanks and got inside the car. The drive was a good two hours, I ended up falling asleep in the car around the one hour mark, it seemed that just as I fell asleep I was woken up by the driver.
“Sorry Miss, I didn’t know how else to wake you.”
“It's alright..” I cover my mouth as I yawn.
I grab my wallet to pay the man, he interrupts my action.
“The Heelshires took care of that already Miss.”
“Oh.”
I put my wallet away, and start grabbing my luggage, the old man helps me and I bring it to the door before knocking. As I knocked the door creaked open, I set my luggage inside by the door. By this time, the driver was long gone. The interior looked beautiful, the walls with a shiny finish, the railing of the stairs with designs carved into each of them. I started up the stairs, looking to see if anyone was home.
As I walk upstairs I start to wander through the house still looking for the sign of anyone I come across a room filled with children's toys. I go to look at the toys closer. A small violin is on one of the dressers. I pluck one of the strings once in a playful manner, when I am suddenly startled I quickly look behind me. Standing in the door. He has a surprise face as well and a sorry one,
“I was actually trying not to scare you.” he chuckles embarrassed, he had a strong english accent.
I laugh. “Oh it's fine!”
“Are you the new babysitter?” he asked.
“I am, actually.”
“oh that's wonderful! I never introduced myself, sorry, my name is Malcolm.”
he holds his hand out for a handshake, I shake his hand in a polite manner.
“My name’s y/n”
“Well it's very nice to meet you y/n.”
I smiled at him, it seemed as if I had made a friend.
“Are you Mr. Heelshire?” I chuckle, it was a dumb question.
“No, no…I'm actually the grocery boy or, man it seems.”
I laugh again, his jokes being the lowest hanging fruit. As I am laughing an older lady walks to the frame of the door.
“I see you have already met Malcolm.”
She seemed tense, her brows slightly furrowed. As if she was displeased with me already. Malcolm seemed to get tense as well. I got the memo and fixed my laid back posture to show more respect towards her.
“We must go now, we wouldn't want to keep Brahms waiting.” she says sternly.
I nod quickly and hurry to her side along with Malcolm walking with her through the manor, we eventually go into a room where another older man was crouched next to a chair, Malcolm crouched as well next to the chair.
“Hello Brahms.” he says, sighing after. Shaking Brahms’s hand gently.
He steps away, giving me room to say hello to the doll. I walk towards the doll and crouch as well, I gently raise the dolls and shake it.
☆ For @myers-fucker-on-main. Excuse me, I've had a couple of problems with tumblr and now it won't let me answer this ask properly. Hope you enjoy them <3 ☆
Chromeskull x Reader with Fangs
-> Summary: Headcanons + bit of scenario. Reader's gender not specified
-> Warnings: A very slight sexual innuendo(?
Please tell me if you find any mistake
• You just started laughing about a joke he signed
• But a loud belly laugh, with open mouth and all of your teeth displayed
• At first he thinks he is just imagining things
• But when he blinked a couple of times and kept seeing those fangs...
• You suddenly feel a huge pressure on your cheeks and you open your eyes to see Jesse's giant hands grabbing your face and laying his thumbs on the edges of your mouth
• He looks at you amazed, then at your mouth and again at you
• "What's the matter? Is everything alright?" You ask him, worried about his odd movements
• He then separates from you and moves his hands very slowly, as in shock 'You have fangs?'
• After understanding what occurred, you bursted into laugh again at his reaction "You hadn't seen them before? They're not natural but they sure look feral, right?" You ended the phrase with a "claw" movement of your hand and a wide toothy grin to display them better at him.
• His head is spinning while looking at the two white pieces
• Lots of questions!! When, where and how
• Well and from now on everytime you open your mouth his sight will be stuck to them
• BITE. HIM.
• Doesn't matter if is in a sexual way or just affectionate
• Though he'll need some time to get used to the affectionate way
• This man is a kinky bastard and he's ready as soon as the tip of your fangs grazes his skin
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Reader gets pushed around and messed with by an absolutely feral Stu. Reader is crushed and thinks about their dead friends while Billy is done with everything
Dark fic, unwilling Reader, set about a year after a Billy and Stu victory. SFW with some sexual comments and a kiss or two
EDIT: Now with Ao3 mirror
It was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea. Didn’t you learn anything from the movies? The group that separates gets picked off one by one. And there was still a threat out there, in this sleepy town. You were the one who told everyone to get together and camp out in your apartment until the cops showed up. But here you were, venturing down the halls of your complex, chasing a hunch - and a ghost.
If you weren’t careful, you’d end up a ghost, too.
You had the thought, and your heart ached. You placed your hand on the pocket of your hoodie, where your two chances for survival rested. The last thing you wanted to consider was that Stu - class clown, smart-ass, smelled like grass and drugstore cologne - could be the killer. But the evidence you’d gotten by sneaking around, it sure did point towards him. Him, of all fucking people. What was the world coming to?
When you’d called earlier to tell him the plan, Stu said he’d bring Billy with him. If Stu was the culprit, odds were good, Billy was dead by now. That made your stomach twist. If there was a heaven, you hoped he was okay up there with Sidney and the rest. You should’ve known Sid’s Dad wouldn’t have done all that shit. You should’ve figured it out sooner - and the cops should have too. How could he have gotten away with it? It wasn’t right!
You were just some high school student. You’d been a sophomore when the Massacre happened, and you were going to graduate in the spring. You were a kid, right? Why were all these lives in your hands?
Footsteps on the carpet - and they weren’t yours. You froze in place. Holding your breath, you listened. Footsteps - from where? The carpet and the walls muffled the direction. You took a step forward. Another one. They didn’t seem to stop when you walked. Whoever it was, they didn’t know you were here.
Swallowing hard, you reached into the pocket of your hoodie. Your fingers brushed past something soft and fluffy, and curled around cold plastic. You slipped the cover off the knife with your thumb and pulled it free from your clothes. It was too pretty to use in the kitchen - white plastic, pink roses - but it was sharp as any blade. It would keep you alive.
You were going to survive this.
Hot air brushed against your ear.
“Whatcha doing with that knife?” Stu asked.
You shrieked. As the noise bounced off the walls you turned, flailing out. Gloved hands brushed against your own. The knife pulled free from your fingers. It didn’t even take a second, half a second. Your ass hit the carpet. You stared up at him, Stu Macher, your upperclassman, your friend.
And he laughed at you.
“Looking for me?” He said, his eyes and smile wide. Stu waved the knife in his fingers. “With a knife? You weren’t planning on stabbing me or something, were you? You’re so silly.”
He snickered. You dragged yourself back. You lied.
“L-Listen - it wasn’t - I wasn’t going to hurt you - I was looking for the killer-”
“Well, guess what, baby?” His grin shifted, sharpened. “You found him.”
The blood must’ve drained from your face, because his eyes lit up. He stepped towards you. You forced yourself to your feet.
“No - that’s not-”
“Aww, don’t be like that! Don’t lie to sweet old Stu! You’ll hurt my feelings!” He fake pouted, and placed the back of the knife against his lips. A moment later, the smile was back. “We found your notebook.”
Your mouth went dry.
“You found my-” You cut off. “We?”
“Oh yeah! Pretty clever of you to just carry it around everywhere, I didn’t suspect a thing!” He placed a hand on his hip. “But my buddy, see, he noticed something was up with you.” Stu waved the knife at you. “So, we stole your backpack. Took us five minutes to look through everything and find all your little secrets. You didn’t even notice it was gone, either! You weren’t paying attention.”
Breathing hard, you stepped back. “I… I…”
“You’re real good at this,” he said. He said your name, then, purring it out, and electricity shot up your spine. “You’re way too good at this,” Stu said. “We’re gonna get you a contract for our new sequel.”
Something in you crumbled. You turned around and ran.
“Hey! Get back here!”
He followed. His footsteps drowned out your own. You’d never been in this part of the complex. It wasn’t a big building but you were already lost. Where were the stairs? Where was the elevator? This was the third floor. You had to get out. In your mind you saw your knife stabbing through you, over and over and over again. All that blood inside you, pouring out onto the floor. You could almost feel the wound in you, deeper than anything ever inside you before.
“Dumb bitch! I’m talking to you!”
His hand grabbed your arm, stopped you dead. You fell forward but Stu gripped your shirt. He threw you to the side, and your back hit the wall. Your head slammed into it, pain slammed through you. Without meaning, your fingers grasped onto anything they could reach, anything that wasn’t him, pressed up against you with anger in his eyes and your blade at your throat. You touched the edge of an open door frame.
“Don’t ever think you can outrun me,” Stu said. His hand gripped the front of your shirt. He shook you. Your legs went numb. “There’s not a fucking place in this whole country you can hide from us! We’ll find you, and we’ll take you, and we’ll kill everyone around you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us!”
Tears flooded your eyes. You couldn’t even speak.
“You got it?!” He shook you again.
Your eyes closed tight. You nodded. You hadn’t thought about this. You hadn’t thought about what it would be like to die. Oh, you didn’t want to die, no, you didn’t want to die, not at his hands. He’d always been nice to you, in a Stu way. You’d really thought you were friends. But no one would ever treat their friends like this.
… Hold on a minute. What did he mean by-
“You gonna be good for me now? Cause I got an offer you can’t refuse.”
He yanked you away from the wall. You yelped, leaning into him against your will. So close to him, you could smell the heat of his body, the soap he washed himself with. With far too much ease, he pushed you back away from him, backwards, and let you go. A squeal left your throat. Your body landed in a rolling chair, the momentum pushing it across the room. Stu strode after you.
His knee landed between your parted legs, keeping them spread. Stu had always been taller than you since you first saw him in middle school. Now he seemed even bigger, looming over you with that awful smile, the tip of your knife on the soft spot under your chin.
“Not gonna run away now, are ya baby?” He snickered. “Y’know…” The knife trailed down your throat. “Nobody’s gonna come and save you. No cops, no friends, no… wannabe boyfriends?” He chuckled. “Fucking Randy. Thought he could be the hero. That dumbass got what he deserved.”
Your eyes watered, and not just from fear. Poor Randy. You’d checked out movies under his suggestion so many times. He was a little weird and in love with Sidney like all her friends were, even Tatum, but he was a good guy. And Stu murdered him.
“You’re a monster,” you whispered.
“I’m your monster, baby!” Stu’s eyes shone with an energy you’d never seen in anyone’s face before. It made you sick. “You’re the cute virgin sacrifice, and I’m gonna eat you aaaaaaall up. And no one is gonna stop me this time.”
This time? What did he mean by this time?
You covered your mouth with your hand. Stu grimaced. He shouldn’t be as strong as he was, to yank your arm down and away like that. His fingers gripped your wrist. The knife pressed against your chin and guided your face towards his.
“Y’know…” He said. “I had a thing for Sidney. Couldn’t have her for myself. Didn’t even get one chance with her before we sent her back to her mommy. Billy said she was tight. Would’ve been nice to fuck her myself.”
I can’t believe I’m hearing this, you thought.
He leaned in closer. “You knew, though.” His grin was knowing. “You knew I liked her the whole time. We saw it in your notebook.” He leaned even closer, his chest pressing against your own. Your face flushed. “You’re a little stalker is what you are! Trying to be a real Nancy Drew!”
You’d thought he’d laugh, but he didn’t. His gaze burned. His eyes focused on your lips.
“Y’know what you didn’t know?” Stu said. He leaned in closer. His breath rushed over your face. “I had a thing for you, too.”
Uh-oh, you thought.
His lips burned on yours. You squeaked. Your hands raised to try and resist, push him off, but the blade kissed your neck again and froze you still. All you could do was grip his shirt and shudder as his tongue invaded your mouth. His hand gripped your hair, holding your head still. He groaned inside your mouth. Your face flushed further, you shuddered, you groaned.
Someone cleared their throat.
He jerked away from you. You struggled to catch your breath. Stu glared over his shoulder, and you stared past him, towards the door. Billy stood there, leaning against the doorway, eyebrows raised.
Help me, you pleaded in your head.
No, wait-
The pieces clicked together.
Oh my god, it can’t be-
Stu looked back to you, and grinned. You looked back at him. He laughed.
“I’ll never get tired of that face,” Stu said. “Does it hurt? Knowing everything you thought was a lie? And we’re fucking geniuses? Starring actors and the directors of the best murders you’ve ever seen.”
Billy rolled his eyes. Made a show of checking a watch that wasn’t on his wrist. Stu didn’t look back at him but his eyes narrowed as if in annoyance.
“So, here’s the plan, baby,” Stu said. “You’re gonna stay in here all nice and safe, and we’re gonna create the finale of our fantastic sequel-”
“No,” you begged. “Please, don’t hurt them-”
“Shhh.” He placed the knife against your throbbing lips. “And when we leave town, you’re gonna come with us. Cause let’s face it - you gotta shake up the formula for the third movie! And you’re gonna be our new star!”
You pulled away from the knife, shaking your head. You couldn’t be hearing this. This couldn’t be what he meant.
“What d’ya say?” Stu waggled his eyebrows. “You can help us write the script. You can be the hot love interest everyone wants to save- my love interest.”
“You’re nuts!” You shouted. “No! Absolutely not! I’m not joining you, you sick freak!”
Stu pouted. Billy cocked his head.
“You didn’t honestly expect a yes, did you-”
“Shut up!” Stu shouted over his shoulder. He looked back at you, his expression smug and patient. “Hate to break it to you babe, but uh, you don’t really have a choice here. I mean, we already signed your contract and everything!” He laughed. “You’re coming with us when we’re done here.”
You shook your head again. “No - no, listen, we can talk about this-”
“Bargaining,” Billy said, voice dry as he examined something on the walls. “You’ll hit acceptance by the time we pack up.”
“Fuck you!” You shouted, your voice cracking.
“Aww, you’re so feisty when you’re scared! You’re like a little baby kitten!” Stu smacked a kiss on your forehead. You cringed away from him.
“So uh, Billy-” Stu looked around. “The rope?”
Billy blinked at him. “What rope?”
“I thought you were gonna bring the rope?” Stu said.
“Why would I carry a-” Billy shook his head. He pointed at you. “Check the front pocket.”
The blood drained from your face. Stu looked at you, raising an eyebrow. You leaned back in the chair away from him.
“Wait, please- no-!”
You could feel the heat of his hand through your clothes as he dug into the pocket of your hoodie. His face wrinkled in confusion, head tilting a bit to the side. Stu pulled out the sheath of your knife, painted with the same roses as the blade itself, and tossed it to the side. He reached in again. His eyebrows raised. You cringed back in your seat.
“What the…” Stu mumbled, and you felt your other weapon against evil pulled from your body and exposed to the air.
The handcuffs, fluffy pink with a heart dangling from them, were, obviously, not police grade. The keys were still in them.
Billy snorted, his face twisting with amusement. Stu looked between you and the cuffs. You leaned away and didn’t look at either of them.
“Don’t say anything,” you said.
“Kinky,” Stu said, and he almost sounded impressed. “What’s a virgin like you doing with things like this, huh?”
“S-Stop calling me that! I have a name, you just used it!” Your cheeks burned. “And they’re not mine, either! I found them lying around in my roommate’s room. Obvious they’re-”
“And what were you gonna do with these?” He purred your name out again, the knife pressing against your cheeks. “You gonna arrest the bad guys? You want the bad guys to do nasty things to you like in those dirty movies?”
Billy snapped, “I swear to god, Macher, if your dick makes us late-”
“Gimme a minute!” Stu snapped. “You’ll get your turn later!” With a smile, he patted your cheek with the side of the knife. “Sorry baby, gotta go. Don’t worry, you’re not going anywhere.”
Still grinning, he hooked one side of the cuffs to one of your wrists.
“No!”
He was quick. You were aware of the loss of his body heat before you realized he’d jumped off you, pulled your hands through the holes of the armrests, and locked your arms tight behind the spine of the chair. Your stomach dropped. This was really happening.
“Don’t get too comfy,” Stu said. His warm cheek pressed against the side of your face. “We’ll be back before you know it. Then we’ll take you home and-”
“Come on, Stu,” Billy said as he headed out the door.
Stu grunted. “Asshole.”
His lips pressed against yours, a flash in the pan kiss so unlike the one he’d given you earlier. It still made your head spin and your gut ache. This had all gone so wrong and you wished you’d never looked at him the way you did before. He pulled away, gave you a wink, and strode out the door.
And then he came right back in, the pink metal key in hand.
“Almost forgot! Watch this for me.” He pulled your shirt away from your chest, and dropped the keys down it. “Bye!”
And now, he was gone, and slammed the door behind him. On the other side, it locked, leaving you gaping at the wood.
You snapped.
“I’m going to kill both of you!” You shouted, and began to cry.
Michael Myers's love is complete, it's total, its desperate, its all-encompassing, its obsessive.
He doesn't fall in love easily but when he falls he falls hard. You belong to him and only him, he'd impale himself on his knife if you asked, and he'd do it gladly.
He's totally and completely in love and he's fucking terrible at going about it.
He's lived in a fucking sanatorium his whole life he doesn't know how romance works. Pushes all the wrong buttons, doesn't communicate well, possessive as hell, leaves you weird shit like decapitated animal heads as "gifts" and borderline creepy love notes on the bodies of his victims. Like, he'll get better, don't worry, but its. A learning curve. He loves you but its a dangerous love.
This takes place in current day purely so I can insert some more modern technology references. But don't worry! - Ambrose is still closed off as fuck.
I'll put in warnings as time ticks on and crazier shit starts happening. Please let me know if there's anything that you would like me to include in this.
-
You sighed as you locked your mobile phone with one hand, lazily dragging a stray french fry through the ketchup on your plate with the other. This was the 3rd Tinder date who turned you down in the past week. You had driven your motorbike almost an hour just to meet up with this person. And for what? A quick fuck? A partner? Something more?
You weren't sure. But you were fed up with trying.
You had been in relationships before, but you always conveniently happened to be the most generous person in the relationship. Partners of your past were moochers, scumbags, losers - they never had a nickel to spare but always an excuse. You were in your late 20s and you were too old to be playing those kind of juvenile games.
Right?
Signaling the server over, you handed her $25.
"Baby, you only had bacon and coffee," the woman mentioned, looking blankly at the money, insinuating a mistake on your end.
"Then the rest is yours," you said with a warm smile.
The woman squinted, still eyeing the money, then snapped her attention to you. A different look came over her - one washed with palpable concern.
"You're not from around here, are you, baby?" she said in a hushed tone.
"Why? People from here tip like shit?" A forced, breathy laugh escaped your lips while you locked eyes with her. The woman's expression remained lined with the same concern. You two shared an unsettling gaze for several seconds before she flatly asked, "Need directions?"
You blinked a few times. You're not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't that.
"No, thanks. I've got it on Maps. It looks like I'm about 45 away from where I need to be."
You pulled up the directions on your phone, showing them to the server. She pulled up her reading glasses from the chain around her neck, squinting through the thick-rimmed cateyes.
"Yep, looks like you're headed the right way, sugar," she said, letting her glasses fall back onto her chest. "But, I gotta say, once you hit the interstate, signal starts getting real fucky. You need me to write down where you're goin'?" She raised the pen from her apron pocket and flipped open a blank ticket.
"Oh, no, thank you," you interrupted. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I've got a portable battery on me to charge my phone." You waited a moment before mentioning, "I'm meeting someone."
"From this shithole county? Baby, you gotta be out of your mind," she playfully scoffed. You glanced down at the table, smiling and nodding knowingly.
"I guess I'll never learn my lesson, huh?"
"Yeah," she said, slowly turning and pocketing her tip. "I guess some people never do."
-
This is just the intro - let's get in the spirit, set the stage! I haven't written fic in so long, it's great to get back into it. I love Southern USA settings so much and Bo Sinclair is extremely daddy.
