You like to think the best of people, without ever considering the darker aspects of life. Others would say that you lack the self-preservation instinct. Probably because you’ll take a walk at two o’clock in the morning without your phone if you’re having trouble sleeping, or happily take a shortcut down a dark alley with headphones in; if you happen across a shady character, you’re more likely to wave, smile and introduce yourself than avoid them.
Honestly, it’s a miracle you survived this long. The world is full of people who would take advantage of someone like you: pretty, clueless and kind. Your childlike optimism should invoke disdain, but it doesn’t. It’s hard to hate someone who has no idea what they’re doing.
You’re just immune to the ugliness that pervades most of society and it’s like a breath of fresh air, an oasis that your slasher feels the need to protect, or hoard for themselves. Your naivete is addicting, but it can be dangerous, how easily you trust the undeserving. It’s too bad that you have no idea what you mean to them, or how far they’d go to keep you safe.
So, how does your slasher finally make their intentions clear?
Chucky: He was planning to kill you initially, but your clueless reaction charmed him and he decides to keep you. You’re adorable, in his words. Plus you make it too easy to hide his…hobby, never questioning his, frankly, terrible lies or frequent late nights drop ins. It’s a good thing too because he’s killing a lot more people with you around; mostly people that flirt with you, or look at you for too long— or at all, and the occasional new ‘friend’ whose ill intentions are going over your head. He’s not sure where you’d end up without him to take care of things, probably with your organs on the black market.
You would think you’d notice how every obstacle in your life disappears, but you’d have to pay attention to them in the first place to notice their absence. He’s more than frustrated when he realizes he’s going to have to, gulp, be direct. He avoids the conversation, tries to gloss over the depth of his feelings with his charm, or make you to understand with grotesque displays of violence, which won't work since you don’t even realize he’s the one killing all the people around you! It takes him presenting your asshole boss, tied up in your basement, for you to finally understand the nature of his twisted devotion. Whether you accept it is up to you, but you’d probably end up bound and gagged instead if you refuse. Lovingly and with care, of course.
The Axe Man: It took you too long to realize you were even being haunted. Actually, it took him physically manifesting; almost a year after you moved in because it was impossible to feed on fear when the person you’re haunting doesn’t even realize they’re being haunted. You just assume it’s you doing all the odd shit around the house: leaving things in different spots than you remember, forgetting to replace flickering lights, or turning the stove on at night. He’s still not sure how you managed to talk yourself into taking the blame for that one.
When he finally has your attention, he’s already fallen in love with you. It’s kinda hard not to, after watching you for so long. You have an air of innocence that he finds charming and the fact that you take to leaving little offerings for him only makes him fall harder. After all, not all spirits were bad, right? (True, but definitely not in his case.) You got the sense that he was more lonely than malicious (also not true). You ignore the concerned warnings of the people around you about the sinister feeling they get whenever they visit, the increasingly frequent bouts of memory loss, and the weird, vivid dreams. He doesn’t really confess; you simply wake up one day with a ring on your finger and the ever-present feeling of someone breathing down your neck.
Vincent Sinclair: You’re happy to ride with Lester when your car randomly breaks down a few miles away from Ambrose, oblivious to his glaring red flags. Like when he takes out his hunting knife to show to you and you mimic his excitement, firing off questions. You walk into town with him, letting him show you around like he’s a tour guide. You don’t question Bo when he tells you that the problem with your car is going to take days to fix because well, he’s the mechanic. The fact that you don’t see another person besides him, or that the part needed to fix your car keeps getting delayed doesn’t seem to bother you. None of them are quite sure what to do with you since you appear content to remain in Ambrose. Vincent is fascinated, probably because you express such admiration for the wax sculptures, enough so that they’re forced to introduce you when you won’t stop pestering them with questions. You rarely see him, but he spends almost all his time watching you.
A normal person would be alarmed at the idea of someone sneaking into the room they sleep in at night to leave wax sculptures on their dresser, but you’re not. You happily accept the reassurance that Vincent is ‘harmless’. Bo is still convinced they’ll have to get rid of you once you realize how the sculptures are made. Except you don’t. You’re completely focused on making a good impression on Vincent, the mysterious artist who’s been occupying your thoughts for months.
You spend just as long working out a way to communicate with him on the rare occasions that he lets himself be seen. Inventing your own secret system distracts you enough that they don’t really have to try that hard to keep you in the dark about how they usually treat tourists. Vincent is adequately flustered by your affection, which you interpret as disinterest. By the time he’s acclimated to the fact that you’ve captured his heart, you’re convinced he sees you as a bit of a groupie. The fact that he takes the time to learn your little language, writes you poems with disgustingly romantic nuance, or has started making sculptures and paintings of the two of you isn’t enough to convince you otherwise either.
Bo probably says something before he can manage it himself. You would have dismissed that too if Vincent hadn’t gathered the courage to confirm the words of his irate twin once you were alone. It’s going to be real awkward if you ever manage to find out exactly what’s going on in Ambrose, especially after the wedding.
Summary: After you bring another doll home, Chucky’s attitude begins to shift, but he soon regrets it.
A/N: First Chucky fic! Hope You Enjoy!
You let out a sigh as you closed the front door and dropped your coat on the coat hanger, the sound of quick, tiny footsteps catching your attention.
“Who the fuck is that?”
You turned to look at the ginger doll, a questioning look spreading across your face. “Who are you talking about?”
Chucky pointed at the boy doll tucked underneath your arm.
“Oh don’t worry about it, it’s just a doll.”
Chucky opened his mouth to continue his questioning, but you were already walking towards the bathroom and dropping the doll on the living room couch.
Once you closed the door, it gave Chucky the opportunity to go up to it. He studied its clothing, the fabric looking new and fresh. That means you just bought it, but why? You have him, you don’t need some other man!
“I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t gonna come and take Y/n away from me.” He promised no one but himself.
Throughout the rest of the day, Chucky had his eye on this boy doll. Even though you gave him some reassurance, he still didn’t trust it.
It really put issues on his trust when, in the middle of watching a movie, you grabbed the doll and took him to the bathroom before closing the door.
If he wasn’t anything, why would you take him to the bathroom and close the door? What were you trying to hide?
He tried to be a good boyfriend and not be under your heels, but when you didn’t return after 10 minutes, he couldn’t wait any longer. He made his way to the bathroom and took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to see.
He slowly pushed the door open, but the sight was way worse than what he thought you both would be doing.
“What’s going on here?” You jumped at his raspy voice, looking down at him before focusing back on your task. “Nothing, I’m just washing him.” You explained while continuing to do said action.
“What do you mean nothing? You’re washing him. You’re washing another man!” You closed your eyes while sighing. “Don’t be like that, Chucky. I’m just washing him. I want him to be clean.” You said once more.
You were way too calm for his liking. You were just standing there washing another man with no problem, but if he was to wash another girl, you would be livid.
Gosh, the double standards.
He angrily stomped out the room and into somewhere else in the apartment, too pissed to say anything.
After washing the doll, you dressed him up in freshly washed clothes, ignoring the way Chucky glared in your direction. You don’t know why he’s so jealous of a doll, but you’ve decided to ignore him and his silly antics.
After practically dragging Chucky to the bedroom, after more convincing that the doll would not be sleeping in there, you finally laid down, getting comfy after a long day of work.
It didn’t take long for sleep to quickly take over you as soon as your head hit the pillow, Chucky doing the same.
Or so you thought.
You woke up to the sounds of tapping, making you sit up. You looked at the clock to see it was 4:25 AM. What’s all that noise at 4 in the morning? You then looked beside you and saw the bedsheet pulled back.
“You gotta be kidding me.” You sighed, leaving the bedroom and looking down the hall. The bathroom light was on. You opened the door and the sight could’ve made steam come out your ears.
“Charles, what are you doing!”
The ginger doll gulped in slight fear. You said his real name which means you’re really pissed.
“Are you actually mad at me?”
“Yes I’m mad at you! Why are you cutting up my sister's doll?”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Sister’s doll?”
“Yeah! Maggie gave it to me to give to my sister on her birthday since she won’t be able to make it to the party, but it seems the doll won’t either due to your knife.”
Chucky’s mouth grew in an O shape, the realization setting in. Your best friend gave you the doll to give to your sister and he just destroyed it.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry Y/N/N, it’s just when I saw this doll, I thought he was trying to take you from me.” You rolled your eyes at his excuse as he put on his best fake apologetic voice.
“Don’t lie to me! I literally told you multiple times it was just a doll, but you're so delusional that your stupid jealousy is taking over your brain. Y’know what, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight!”
Chucky’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as they grew in size, surprised and worried at your threat. “Wait, no! Please! Baby, I’ll patch up the doll, hell, I’ll buy a new one!”
You ignored his pleads, going into the bedroom and closing the door.
Chucky sighed knowing better than to follow you. Looks like the couch is his new bed for the next couple of days.
Summary: Tiffany persuaded you with money to get rid of Chucky the Doll for her. The offer was too good to pass up and you agreed without thinking about it twice. When you performed the ritual to wake him up it failed... One thing lead to another and you ended up giving Chucky the Doll a show that was sure to wake him up.
18+: Fem masturbation (fingering, clit stimulation, nipple play,) exhibitionism, voodoo ritual, Tiffany cameo (lol,) swearing (Chucky insults reader. We know he's a lil bitch like that,) low-key mean reader — UNEDITED
WC: 1.1k
•
“Ade due Damballa.
Give me the power, I beg of you.”
The power went out at the trailer park as you preached. Rain and thunder roared outside and the wind crept through the windows of your mobile home, which opened on their own as you performed the ritual.
You sat inside in the middle of a pentagram drawn with spray paint on the hard wood floor. Candles surrounded you and the doll sat right in front of you.
Chucky the Doll.
“Ade due Damballa.
Give me the power, I beg of you.”
You said again, the wind brushing your exposed skin. Black pleather dress barely covering you. The chill made your skin prickle and your nipples poked against the fabric of your outfit. You swore Chucky moved his eyes and they landed on your tits. Pleasure sprouted between your legs and you gasped in surprise and amusement. A smirk adorned your face. Maybe he’s finally waking up.
“Ade due Damballa.
Give me the power, I beg of you…
Awake!”
You shouted.
Nothing.
“Awake!”
Nothing.
The weather settled and you looked around, disappointment taking over. The power didn’t come back, but everything was calm and you sighed in frustration.
“Oh, c’mon!” You shouted and leaned back on your elbows, legs slightly spread as you looked up at the white ceiling, praying to whatever God was available to help you wake that stupid doll up.
Tiffany, the woman who was hooking up with the pretty boy of the trailer park became good friends with you. She was hot and you loved flirting with her as well as sharing a cig while gossiping about her flings. When she told you about Chucky it piqued your interest, which she quickly took advantage of.
“If you take him to the cemetery for me, I'll pay you. $1000, cash. Once you wake him up after the ritual just cage him and put him in the back of your trunk, that’ll shut him up.
It’s a good deal sweetheart and it’s just a few hours of driving. What do you say?” Tiff said and you bit your lip at her offer. It did sound pretty good and you had dabbled in performing rituals one or twice in the past so, easy peasy.
“Okay, I'll do it, but I want half of the money in advance.” You said, batting your eyes at her. The woman smirked and chuckled, “Smart girl. I’ll stop by tomorrow. You better be here.” Tiffany said and dropped the half smoked cig, stepping on it with her shiny stiletto heel.
“I will hun,” you replied and walked away with Chucky against your chest.
That's how you ended up in the frustrating situation.
With your eyes closed, you ran your hand through your hair and down your chest slowly in an attempt to soothe yourself. Your nipples were still hard and sensitive so you ran two fingers over each one. You hissed at the sensation and sighed in relief and pleasure as you circled your fingers over the fabric of your dress, pinching lightly. It sent a bolt of pleasure between your legs.
As you continued trailing your hand down your body, you spread your legs further, giving Chucky a perfect view of your wet cunt. You didn’t bother wearing underwear that day, feeling lazy and a little risque. You didn’t know why you were giving a lifeless doll a show but it turned you on more than it should have, so you continued playing with yourself.
With your hand between your legs, you brushed your fingers around your exposed clit, barely touching the sensitive bud. It throbbed a few times, begging for attention but you wanted to tease yourself further. Drive yourself insane, so you reached down over your wet entrance and dipped your fingers slightly, collecting the slick and spreading it around your clit.
There was tension in the air. You felt watched, as if there was a presence in the room, yet everything was calm and quiet besides your soft moans.
You finally started to rub your clit in slow circles, using the wetness to get everything nice and slippery. Every throb against the pads of your fingers sent you closer to the edge.
You saw Chucky’s eyes move again and that time you were sure it actually happened.
“Wake up you stupid doll,” you moaned as you continued rubbing your clit.
Slipping two fingers inside your cunt, you fucked yourself. The moan that escaped from you was louder than it should've been, but you didn’t care. You were gonna finish the show for Chucky the fucking Doll.
“Fuck… This is so fucked up,” you whispered but kept touching yourself, ocasionally pulling your fingers out to rub your clit in small circles. Thrust, rub, thrust, rub, until you came and moaned loudly. The candles around you shined brighter as you rode your high, but at that moment you didn’t care about the supernatural occurrence. Didn’t acknowledge what had happened.
As you came down from your high, you pulled your fingers out of your pussy and brought them up to your mouth, sucking them clean.
“If I had known I was getting a show I would’ve woken up sooner baby,” you heard a man speak. His voice was attractive. Tone teasing and menacing all at once.
You closed your legs and looked in front of you.
There he was. Chucky the Doll. Awake and smirking at you as if he had seen the best thing just happen before his eyes.
“Oh fuck…” you whispered and sat up straight.
“Did Tiff put you up to this?” Chucky asked and you couldn’t hold back a breathy laugh.
“Maybe, what’s it to you?” you answered, sassy and teasy.
“Oh, and she sent a bratty bitch too?” he said and laughed creepily. Menacingly. Teasingly. Why were you enjoying this?
“C’mere,” You said while opening your arms, a smirk plastered on your face. Chucky walked towards you slowly and allowed you to pick him up – “You’re cuter than I thought,” you cooed and picked him up, walking up to the cage, making sure his gaze was on you.
Chucky’s tiny hand was on your tit and he chuckled at your words, but before he could say anything you put him in the cage quickly and closed it tightly.
“What the fuck?! Get me out of here you whore!” He screamed while shaking the cage door with his tiny plastic hands.
“Sorry baby, you’re adorable and all, but worth a lot of money too, so... Sleep tight, Chuck.” You said and smiled innocently before putting a towel over the cage.
Thank you so much for writing to Charles (Chucky), you don't know how happy I was to see him. The fandom was starving for an x male reader ToT
I would kindly like to ask for another one, a fluff (Is this a fluff?) Where like reader (male) is a killer that works alongside of Charles (Yes, human. I too find it odd to romance a doll that looks like a child 🙏) whereas reader mostly handles the clean up (At least he tries to because Charles prolly likes just having them 'odies found by the popo 💀)
ANYWAYS, one day Charles tried to drag a body around and reader is like OH NO YOU DONT PRINCESS and idk how to continue :(
(Its to balance out the smut WHICH I LOVED BY THE WAY. pleasedoexpectmorefrommeinthefuture and ihopeyoudontmind)
Get it out | Chucky x male!reader
A/N: Sorry this took so long and that it’s so short. I didn’t really know how to end it. I hope you like this!
Charles Lee Ray and I had been dating for a while now. We had a routine when it came to killing. He does the killing, and I clean it up. This routine kept the police off of Chucky’s tail as they thought it wasn’t his normal way of killing. Sometimes, I just don’t have enough energy to fully clean up his huge mess, so I clean up most of it so it doesn’t look like the workings of Charles Lee Ray.
This time was different. I was at home, trying to scrub the blood out of Chucky’s clothes from the last killing, when the door opened, a loud grunt and the sound of dragging sounded throughout the trailer.
I dropped the shirt and the brush that I was holding into the sink of the bathroom and ran to the front door, only to find Chucky dragging a body into the kitchen, a small trail of blood left behind.
“CHARLES LEE RAY! I JUST CLEANED THOSE FLOORS!” I stalked over to him. Chucky dropped the body and turned to me, a small smile on his face.
“Doll face! I just brought a trophy. I haven’t finished yet, i had to bring her back because someone called the police” he smiled and flopped on the couch.
It was a girl, no older than 20 at least. She was wearing a graphic t-shirt and sweat pants. Her blonde hair was messed up and covered in blood. She had a cut on her temple, Chucky must’ve hit her hard. She had stab wounds covering her torso.
“Chucky, you brought back a dead body? To our home?” I was shocked. How could he do this? What if someone saw and reported it? Now they would know where he was hiding, and they would know about me.
“Ch- I- I can’t believe this! Did anyone see you?” I shook my head in disbelief. I was a little freaked out. I had worked so hard over this past year to make sure that Chucky didn’t go back to jail, so that he wasn’t the police’s top suspect of every murder. And now Chucky had basically thrown that all away.
“Nobody saw me.” He got up from the couch and stood in front of me. He wrapped his arms around my torso and rested his chin on my chest, looking up at me. “I just wanted to make her look nice for the police. I won’t get caught. Nobody will find out about you”
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “You’re right. I’m sorry, my darling. I just don’t want you to get caught again.” I held him close, resting my forehead on his.
We sat there for a good five minutes before I gently pushed him away. “Go fix her up and bring her back. I want her out of the house by tonight or you’re sleeping on the couch for the next two weeks” I walked back into the bathroom and picked up the shirt and brush again and started scrubbing the blood.
I know he doesn’t really do it in the movies, but Chucky was formerly the Lakeshore Strangler when he was a human —
And I’m not sure if this already exists but if not, it’s a wonder no one has written a fic where Charles Lee Ray picks up a rando for a hookup and the sex is capitalized by him nearly choking them to death before they orgasm and he decides to let them live bc he thinks them getting off to near-death is hilarious/hot/makes them a total freak.
This is gonna be so random but this agitates me so much so like I have a question: how would the slashers react to a guy pursuing the nurse and she’s silently agitated and uncomfortable? Because I hate it so much, especially if it’s a friend and they start getting more touchy. Like sure it’s fine at first if I’m just comforting you but then they start resting their head on you 24/7 even without asking and I’m just so irked especially when I said I don’t want to even be in a relationship. Ughhh. Love your work btw though, I already feel less agitated on here. Thank you for your service 🫡
Jason Voorhees:
Jason notices immediately. Your body language is everything to him. The second he sees you shrink away, stiffen, or look uncomfortable, he’s on high alert. He physically steps between you and the guy like a wall of death. No words, just presence. If the guy doesn’t get the hint, Jason might just grab him by the collar and silently shove him away harder than necessary.
Jason’s message is clear: You are making them uncomfortable. If you touch them again, you won’t have arms no more.
Michael Myers:
Michael just appears next to you, staring down the guy like he’s sizing up how best to gut him. He doesn’t even blink. You might see him casually pulling a knife from his pocket, tapping it against his leg while staring.
The guy rests his head on you ?
Michael slightly tilts his head—and then grabs the guy’s shoulder and peels him off you with brutal force.
No words. Just pure threat.
Brahms Heelshire:
Brahms would get insanely possessive and upset, even more so because you’re visibly uncomfortable and polite about it. He hates when you’re nice to people who don’t deserve it.
He starts whining loudly, fake-crying:
"Y/N ! Y/N ! I want cuddles toooo ! Why are you hugging HIM ?! I thought you loved ME !"
He makes a whole embarrassing scene, clinging to you dramatically, and eventually physically wedges himself between you and the guy until the guy leaves in total awkwardness. Then Brahms whispers, "See ? I’ll keep you safe. I am a good boy, right ?"
Yeah. You got another problem now.
Good luck. 🫡
Bo Sinclair:
Bo goes nuclear. He can tell when you’re pissed but too polite to cause a scene. But him ? He doesn’t have that problem. He lives for causing scenes.
He yells at the guy across the room:
"Hey, jackass ! Get yer damn hands off them before I break every bone you’re touchin’ them with !"
If the guy still doesn’t back off, Bo would slam him into a wall or throw something. Or throw hands directly. Like I said. Bo has absolutely no problem causing a scene.
Vincent Sinclair:
Vincent quietly places himself at your side, an intimidating silent figure looming taller and broader.
If the guy touches you again, Vincent physically grabs his wrist and shoves it away. If he keeps doing it ?
Vincent puts him in an armlock without hesitation. No anger on his face—just the cool efficiency of someone who is done tolerating disrespect.
Freddy Krueger:
Freddy is mocking and cruel to the guy.
"Ooooh, look at you ! Little cuddle parasite ! Bet mommy didn’t hold you enough, huh ? But that’s alright ! Ya got me now ! And ya gonna looove my hugs !"
He laughs, points, makes it so unbearable and humiliating that the guy leaves out of sheer embarrassment. Freddy loves bullying people who make you uncomfortable. Actually ? Scratch that. He likes making people uncomfortable. Period.
Norman Bates:
Norman notices the second your smile looks even a little strained. He stammers:
"Th-They said they didn’t want—they said they didn’t want to be touched, please don’t—"
He starts trying to verbally defend you, but if the guy persists, Norman has a breakdown and possibly lashes out physically in a desperate, protective mama style.
Thomas Hewitt / Bubba Sawyer:
Thomas becomes very tense, gripping his chainsaw tighter. He won’t attack immediately, but he’s vibrating with the urge to.
Bubba would cry and whimper, clinging to you and trying to “rescue” you from the situation. They both absolutely hate seeing you uncomfortable and would go to extreme lengths to get the guy away from you if it escalates.
Pennywise:
Pennywise sees it as a hunt. The guy who keeps touching you after you said no ?
He’s prey.
Pennywise smiles sweetly at you and then, when you’re not looking, corners the guy in some dark hallway:
"You deaf, bucko ? They said no. I can make it so you never even have a hand to touch anyone again…So back off."
He loves terrifying creeps who don’t listen.
Penny:
Penny acts playful at first, bouncing around you both, making silly noises. Then his voice drops lower, more serious:
"Y/N doesn’t wanna be touched. Go away before I make you disappear, silly human~!"
If the guy still doesn’t listen, Penny would get uncharacteristically serious and physically remove him from your space with surprising strength. Or eat him. Depends on how hungry he is.
Jack Torrance:
Jack would take a second to notice (he’s a little dense sometimes), but once he sees it, his protective instincts kick in hard. He marches up and stands between you and the guy, almost snarling:
"The guy/lady’s not interested. Get lost, pal."
And if that doesn’t work, Jack’s ready to throw hands, no hesitation.
Chucky:
As soon as the guy rests his head on you without asking, that’s it. Chucky climbs up somewhere (table, chair, your shoulder if he has to) and starts loudly, brutally roasting the guy in front of everyone:
"Hey, clingy ! They said they ain’t interested ! What part of ‘NO’ don’t you get, numbnuts ?!"
"Oh, you need a hug ? How ‘bout I rip your friggin’ arms off and shove ‘em where the sun don’t shine ?!"
If the guy still doesn’t back off ?
Chucky’s pulling a knife.
Tiny, furious, screaming and swinging.
Not even subtle about it.
You’d have to physically scoop him up and carry him away while he’s still yelling insults over your shoulder like:
"You touch them again, and you’re dead, ya hear me ?! DEAD !"
And the whole time, he’s fuming to you afterward:
"You gotta stop bein’ so damn nice, sweetheart. Assholes like that think it’s an invitation! Next time, just say the word and I’ll carve ‘BACK OFF’ into his forehead for ya."
