Warnings: All characters are over 18 years old, 18+ content. Michael Myers doesn't speak, you feign insanity here. Infidelity.
He let out a moan at your slap. His cheek burned. The sting tingled beneath his skin. He threw his head back, settling into the pillow. His peace was short-lived. You squeezed his throat, bearing down with your strength. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. You moved your hips in a frenetic rhythm; pain and pleasure mingled in his gasps. The sweat, the trembling, and his flushed face motivated you to keep going. In his eyes, however, fear gave him away. He feared you would end up killing him. He was both grateful for and hated the day he spoke to you, with his trembling voice and eyes fixed on the ground. The urge to destroy him was stronger than the urge to take care of him. You took a blade from your nightstand and caressed his lips with the edge. His body convulsed, filling you in a rush. You removed your hand from his throat and lowered your knife. You collapsed on top of him. Words poured from his lips, yielding his submission to you in a whisper. You smiled and got up. Before leaving, you looked at him from the doorway. He was just catching his breath between gasps.
You toyed with the knife and walked on, looking for some other stimulus. A few meters away, leaning against a tree, was your nightmare. Your man. You tucked the weapon into your back pocket and ignored his gaze, lowering your head. He didn't move from his spot. His hands remained crossed over his chest, in a deceptively calm demeanor. You quickened your pace, and in a couple of strides, he cornered you against a tree. He took the knife from you, groping your ass, and buried it in the trunk. Right next to your ear. He smelled your neck, unbuttoned your pants, and ripped your t-shirt. You shook your head several times. He grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, slamming you face-first against the wood. You screamed in pain. He pulled down your pants. He thought for a moment. In one motion, he pulled out the knife and yanked your hair. Your neck exposed to him. The blade flirted with your skin. And your fate was in the hands of a jealous man.
"The next time I smell someone else on your skin, you will be rotting meat," he threatened coldly, biting your earlobe violently.
With his free hand, he pulled down your underwear and grabbed your buttocks, delighting in the soft flesh. If it weren't for that, perhaps he would have made an impulsive decision. But your weeping and your pleas stopped him.
-Ticci Toby/Masky, Corey Cunningham/Michael Myers, Takemichi/Kisaki, Liu (No Sully lol)/Jeff The Killer, Vincent Sinclair/Bo Sinclair, Kakucho/Izana, Randy Meeks/Billy Loomis (or Stu Macher).
18+ smut, fem/afab reader. Please heed fic warnings and respect my boundaries: My blog is strictly 18+ and I do not give permission to make my work into bots, put it in AI, copy, or translate it. Ty for reading! Check out my main masterlist.
VARIOUS
The Haddonfield Interview - miniseries, superman x Halloween crossover *NEW OCT 2025*
The Slashers Asking you “What Would you Do if I Cheated on you?”
Pairing: Slasher Men x f!reader
Notes: I loved writing this chapter. I hope that you guys can enjoy this as much as I liked imagining the little scenarios for it. I am working on the start for the "Asking them to rail you" chapters, so lookout for that soon!
Characters in this chapter include: Art, Billy, Stu, Brahms, Corey, Dennis, Mark, Michael, and Pinhead.
You can find the other chapters I’ve written and will continue writing for the texting series here!
Summary | You were perhaps the most annoying person Corey has ever encountered. Yet, you were also, frustratingly, the most interesting person in the psych ward…
Warnings & Notes | 18+, fem!reader, post-Ends au, pwp (hate sex w/o the actual sex?), R has undescribed mental disorder, dry humping, choking/asphyxiation, hair pulling, mentions of blood, maybe ooc Corey idk, not proofread
Author's Note | Idk, I just imagined Corey in an Arkham Asylum-esque facility and thus I ended up here 🤷♀️
WC | 2.5k
Corey could sense you before he saw you. In his time here at Smith’s Grove, knowing when you were nearby was one of the many things he’d learned.
He learned that sometimes he was the most sane person in the room. He learned how to avoid the attention of guards and doctors. He learned how to revel in his own company.
And he learned that you were capable of thwarting each and every one of those things should you choose to.
You were a damn pain in his ass, had been since the moment he met you; when you slinked over to his table like a suspicious cat, planting yourself across from him and refusing to leave him alone.
Some of Corey’s fellow inmates told him how lucky he was to have your attention. Others warned him to shrug you off before you latched on for good.
He was stuck in limbo, unsure whether your company was welcome or if it was utterly loathsome. There were days when you seemed so normal, considering that you were both locked up here for indefinite time; and then there were days when just the sight of you made his blood boil, especially when you gave him that scheming grin of yours.
More than once, that smile had landed Corey in trouble - you dragged him into fights with other inmates, he’d get framed for ridiculous stunts that you pulled. Oh, he should hate you.
But at least you made his days a little less mundane.
Lying in the shadows of his cell, Corey stared up at the ceiling, hands resting beneath his head. For the most part, the ward was quiet at this time of night - the more boisterous inmates were kept in another wing. In that quiet, however, he could tell he wasn’t alone, some sixth sense that was always able to detect you.
“I know you’re there.” He spoke into the darkness.
“No you don’t.” You countered from the other side of his door, to which he rolled his eyes.
Corey wasn’t sure what joy you derived from sneaking up on him - if you were trying to startle him, it failed every time.
You giggled, evidently finding yourself endlessly amusing as you clicked open his door.
That was one thing Corey could compliment you on, though he chose not to do so out loud, lest you get big headed - you could get in and out of anywhere.
He suspected you could easily walk right out of this nuthouse if you wanted; the trouble is that you didn’t. The one and only time he asked you how the hell you got out of your cell, you shushed him with a mischievous look and a maniacal laugh, and so he dropped the subject.
Maybe it was better that he didn’t know.
You slid into Corey’s room, carefully closing the door behind you. This late, everything was relatively dark, yet he still saw your teeth glint in that roguish smile of yours. He sighed, returning his gaze to the water stained ceiling - he couldn’t give you the attention you wanted, you’d become unbearable if he did.
Sidling over to his bed, you snickered to yourself; he closed his eyes with annoyance, already figuring that you were going to be tiresome tonight.
“What do you want?”
“Who, me?” You teased with that dangerous, cheshire cat smiling upon your face. Your tongue prodded at the corner of your mouth as you looked Corey up and down, shrugging with exaggerated shoulders, “Maybe I just want some company.”
Corey side-eyed you, trying not to show any interest in his face. Of course, he was curious why him? Why did you gravitate towards him, why wouldn’t you leave him alone? Though annoying, he begrudgingly enjoyed your presence, but he still couldn’t figure out why you chose him of all people.
Instead of responding, he simply hummed in judgmental acknowledgement, closing his eyes again as if to pretend you weren’t there. But your energy was so loud, so hard to ignore - even standing perfectly still, you somehow overwhelmed Corey purely with your existence.
But it wasn’t so bad. In spite of himself, he liked you hanging around, so long as you weren’t causing him any headaches.
When the cot shifted under your weight, Corey’s body jumped slightly in surprise, eyes meeting yours. You swung your leg over him, straddling his hips as you gazed down with that glint of danger he’d grown familiar with. Seeing the uncertainty in his face, your grin grew large and wicked.
“Mind if I sit here?” You teased, pressing your ass down onto his lap.
Corey propped up on his elbows, body shifting against yours. A jolt of warmth shot through him at the feel of your groin brushing his, but he tried to shove that feeling deep down.
You gave him a knowing look at the same moment that his expression hardened. Corey practically glared at you, a silent attempt at dissuading whatever the hell you were thinking. But that only seemed to encourage you.
“You can tell me to leave, if you want,” You start, though your tone suggested you were goading him. Slowly, you leaned forward, creating just enough friction to cause Corey’s cock to twitch within his trousers; your mouth came to rest against the shell of his ear as you whispered, “But I might not listen. Not even if you say please.”
Corey shook his head at the feel of your breath. He groaned deep in his chest, a sound intended to convey vexation, even as a part of him wanted to see what exactly you might do if he let you keep going.
It had been so long since anyone was this close to him. To a point, it felt as if you were invading his space, and yet he secretly welcomed it. Regardless of how annoying you were, Corey found that he liked you. And sure, he sparingly thought about how easy you were on the eyes, but he never allowed himself to linger on it too long. It was definitely a bad idea to get mixed up with any of the other inmates here. And you were trouble on legs from the start.
But then you rolled your hips against his nice and slow, and for a split second Corey forgot how to breathe.
Oh, you looked far too pleased, feeling him slowly growing hard beneath you. Though he tried to glare, you knew there wasn’t any fire behind it.
You glanced from Corey’s eyes to his slightly parted lips as he stared back at you. One brow curved, as if you were silently debating something. When you leaned back in, your lips were almost on his, just a breath away, but you stopped before your mouths met.
The anticipation made him freeze, body rigid beneath you, awaiting your next move. You hovered for a long beat before laughing against his mouth.
“No…” Your lips brushed his, “That’s too intimate.”
Corey whispered harshly into the small space between you, “What?”
Taunting again, you shrugged as if you didn’t know your own mind, “I mean, I feel like kissing you might lead to more trouble.”
Corey pulled back as much as he could, brow furrowed; he really couldn’t make sense of you sometimes.
“More trouble than sneaking into my room and crawling into my lap?”
You grinned wickedly, laughing as if he was the funniest man in the world. Contradictory to your own point, your fingers trailed up his torso and neck, knotting into his curls and giving a firm tug. His eyes fluttered, enjoying the touch.
“Kisses are supposed to mean something, right?” You asked while giving a deep roll of your hips, his cock twitching again as he sighed.
Though your question had an innocence to it, Corey knew you were anything but. He purposefully pushed up into you, his hard length teasing. He tried not to smile at the faint whine that escaped your throat.
“As if you care.” He spoke against your lips before lying back against his pillow. Slowly, his hands grazed up your thighs, stopping at your hips to give you a squeeze.
The way you smirked in response was maddening - how could one look from you make him want to fuck you and kill you at the exact same time?
“You’re right; I don’t.” You said as if it was an afterthought, untangling your fingers from Corey’s hair so you could feel your way down his sturdy shoulders, his strong chest. The look on your face was daring him, “Tell me to leave?”
“No.” His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to hurt, pushing you against his erection, “If you want to leave, leave.”
Your hands held firm to his chest as you hummed, your grin wicked as you rut against him again.
In the next second, you pouted dramatically, clearly playing up the sulking look even as your eyes glimmered with mischief. Through the layers of pajamas, Corey could feel your heat, pussy desirous as you began to steadily grind along his length, slow and sensual and somehow still taunting him.
“Should we be doing this?” You asked in a tone of faux-concern, clearly just trying to needle Corey further. He practically rolled his eyes as his hips matched your rhythm, finding your derision already annoying, “Hm, it could be really bad if we get caught, I mean--”
Swiftly, Corey’s hand shot up to grab your pretty neck, squeezing either side with a scowl as he demanded deeply, “Stop talking.”
Oh, he shouldn’t have done that. The way your eyes lit up, your devious smile, your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth. Corey made the mistake of giving you exactly what you wanted; he squeezed your throat even tighter in retaliation, your eyes crossing.
With his other hand still at your hip, Corey rocked your pussy against himself, using you just as much as you were using him. His glaring eyes roved your body, refusing to look into your face, refusing to acknowledge the twisted glee surely there.
Fuck, maybe he should just kill you.
You moaned gutturally, growing wetter with each roll of your hips, slick creating a wet spot through your panties. Though you were both clothed, you could feel the planes and shapes of Corey’s body so clearly, it was as if you could see them; the girth of his cock rubbing along your folds, the flex of his muscles beneath your hands.
You dug your fingernails into his chest hungrily, just enough to make him growl, to make him squeeze your neck again in that way that made you lightheaded. In Corey’s grasp, you felt unsafe in the best way possible - you were well aware of what he was capable of, and that made you want him even more.
You dragged your nails down the length of his torso, sliding them beneath his t-shirt so they could scratch along his abs. Sighing pleasurably, you sunk your nails into his skin until he gave a small cry of surprise; his hand had just begun to slack around your neck, but it immediately tightened again.
Though you couldn’t laugh for lack of oxygen, you grinned wickedly, delighting in torment you inflicted and Corey’s subsequent retaliation.
With a fiery glare, Corey drew you towards him, the angle allowing the head of his cock to perfectly press up against your clit. You continued smiling villainously, nose-to-nose with him.
“Behave.” He commanded through gritted teeth, making your pussy clench desirously. The pressure of his fingers just below your jaw was nearly painful; you scratched up his chest again, relishing the way he hissed.
“Make me.” You purred, swiping your tongue tauntingly across his lips.
Corey’s jaw clenched, one part vexation and another part turned on. As he practically shoved you back upright, his hips jerked aggressively against you.
You knew you could happily keep going on like this, grinding against each other fully clothed, provoking one another until one of you came first.
Yes, this was exactly your idea of fun.
You were turned on by Corey’s anger, all too eager to keep stoking that fire until his flames burned you. You never were a particularly careful person, and he was just one of the many bad ideas you chose to pursue.
Unable to resist, you gave him a judgmental look, glowering down your nose at him, “Hm, like I thought - all bark, no bite.”
He flared instantly.
Your vision became blackened and starry as Corey finally cut off your oxygen, your body tensing in his grip. Lightheadedness caused your nails to dig into him hard enough to break skin, his hips bucking beneath you lecherously; oh, he was definitely enjoying this just as much as you.
Just when you thought you’d pass out, Corey relinquished, hand roughly dragging down your collarbone, groping your chest as you gasped a huge gulp of air. With that first breath, your pussy clenched tight, abruptly reaching a pinnacle of satisfaction, a hoarse moan in your throat.
When your eyes finally cleared and you could see Corey’s face again, he watched you with twisted fascination. His eyes were dark with lust and danger, his hands no longer violent as they were. Even his hips had stopped thrusting, as if he was enthralled with you.
Your brow arched mockingly, your chest still heaving with need for air. Pulling your hands from beneath his shirt, they lashed out to grab Corey’s hair again before he could stop you, yanking him roughly till he sat up to meet you, his glare growing harsh again.
You spoke hurriedly against his lips, yet you still refrained from truly kissing him, “Enjoy the show?”
His arms wrapped around your middle, forcefully grabbing your ass, slowly grinding his cock against you once more. Now that you’d already cum once, your eyes fluttered at how good Corey felt; you already knew you’d soaked through, that if you stood you’d likely find a wet spot on his pants.
“You’re insane…” He groaned into your mouth, to which you threw your head back and laughed theatrically.
Unable to resist anymore, you twisted his hair harshly as your mouth finally clashed with his, sloppy and mean and quick. In spite of his attitude towards you, Corey kissed you back with a possessive eagerness, squeezing your ass again, pushing his dick up against you.
When you pulled away with a pop of your lips, you gave him a dark look, “Pot; kettle. We’re both locked up in here, remember?”
Corey glowered, but the deep rolling of his hips continued without hesitation.
You yanked his hair again with the intent of being mean, to which he hissed with resentment. He quickly retaliated by sinking his teeth around your collarbone, biting with such certainty and precision, ramming up against you at the same moment that he drew blood.
A surprised cry leapt out of you, perhaps the only genuine thing Corey had ever heard leave your mouth. For a split second you weren’t manipulating or pretending - he hurt you, and you reacted accordingly.
Maybe he could get used to this.
Recovering with whiplash speed, you chuckled darkly, pulling his head back so you could meet his eyes. Your gaze was venomous and cruel, your smile twisted, and his cock pulsed achingly at the terrible sight of you.
Includes: Bo Sinclair, Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Amanda Young, The Grabber, Corey Cunningham, Brahms Heelshire, Mark Hoffman, Dollface
A/n I was running out of pet names I knew at the end sorry
- Bo will call you darlin, baby, babe or pretty girl. I could also calling you his little lamb. When he’s mad though, he’ll call you bitch or whore.
- Oh my gosh, Baby will call you just about anything. She mostly, however calls you sweetheart, sugar, honey, darling, pudding, cutie or love bug.
- Otis will address you as bitch anytime of the day. Even if he’s not mad at you, he could be HAPPY with you and be like “come hear bitch” and wouldn’t think twice. He will also call you mama, babygirl, bunny and missy.
- Amanda would call you something basic like baby, babe, MAYBE baby girl I’m not sure about that one though. She’s always calling you a pretty girl. I’m sure she’d occasionally throw in sweetie or sweetheart.
- Albert would of course call you dove, my love, sweetheart, honey, doll, baby. He’d only use degrading names when he’s angry.
- This man is a SIMP. Corey would call you baby, babe, my love, darling, baby girl, pretty girl and cutie!
- Mommy. He’d call you mommy, maybe mama. He’s a lil freak I fear.
- Mark isn’t a crazy romantic, he’d call you things like darling, babe, hot stuff and some other oddly specific name he comes up with.
- Dollface would call you sweet and cute names! Such as, baby, pumpkin, darling, kitty, bunny, love, sweetie, baby cakes and pretty girl.
