#corey cunningham x y/n

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Corey Cunningham Headcanons:

❝ If I can’t have her… No one will. ❝

[SFW Headcanons + No Gendered Terms]

Content Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Stalking, Mentions of Murder/Violence, Possessive and Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation/Gaslighting, Mention of Previous Abuse.

A/N: Call me Saul Goodman the way I’ll defend this man. He did nothing wrong. He was simply being silly!!!!

Post-Michael Era:

> Corey knows how to disguise himself to look harmless which is how he wants you to view him. No one else���s opinion matters on him besides yours.

> He doesn’t know what it is but you somehow made him feel normal and yet so… alive. That’s what made his life turn to you completely.

> Corey appears like a regular dorky, shy, boy next door type. That’s what made him so charming. He wouldn’t want you to know how dangerous he really was.

> After a shitty day, he just wants to sit down and talk with you. Over the phone or in-person, he finds your voice to be comforting.

> He sometimes secretly records your voice to replay it over and over again to soothe him if he can’t get to you.

> Corey somehow can always bump into you. It’s funny. It’s almost like he’s stalking you or something. And of course, it’s because he is and memorized your schedule the moment he saw you.

> Corey can’t help but claim you as his even before you two began dating because in his mind, no one could save you like he could. He was your hero. He’d make you see that soon.

> He’s always sweet to you. Showering you in affection and slowly manipulating you to believe only he can help you. You don’t need friends. You need him.

> Corey needs to feel needed by you. When he starts seeing you rely on him more and more, he knows he’s won. He has you just as he liked.

> Friends aren’t spending as much time with you recently? He’s right there to vent to. Parents getting on your ass about something? Hey, he knows what that’s like. Partner making you feel insecure? Corey will have you feeling like a precious diamond.

> And once you’ve realized Corey is the one, he’s more than overjoyed but he just gives a small smirk and wraps his arms around you.

> He’s the definition of “hates everyone but you” type. Everyone else is insufferable to him but nothing you do can bother him.

> Now that he has his love, finding targets becomes so much easier. Anyone who bothers you simply becomes a missing person who Corey led to Michael.

> Corey wouldn’t tell you about it until it became a true achievement in his mind. Say you had an abusive ex or a cheating ex, something along those lines. Corey would lead you to his “surprise” of that ex’s corpse and proclaiming his absolute love for you.

> Because to him, being willing to kill and going through with it is the ultimate form of devotion.

> Corey’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Quality Time.

> Corey wants you to feel like you need him and can’t live without him. So he makes you dependent on him.

> He’ll go out of his way to make inconveniences for you so he could fix them.

> Your car somehow broke down and you have no idea how? Corey’s there to save the day. You swear you had your alarms set that morning but they didn’t go off? Corey can pick you up and drop you off. “Accidentally” got food poisoning so now you’re sick for a few days? Corey is there to take care of you.

> He’s always just conveniently there and so helpful! It’s all because he knows you so well.

> Also any time of the day is time to spend with him. He’s incredibly clingy and feels just off if you aren’t beside him.

> Like everything is dimmer when you aren’t around so he has a tendency to sneak off during his lunch breaks to stop by to see you.

> Late at night, he’ll text to look out your window and there he is: flower in hand and a sweet smile as he invites you on a night out.

> His favorite is anywhere with a nice overhead view of the lit-up city. Maybe a rooftop or something and he just has you in his arms, right where you belong.

> Corey’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

> Before you actually got into a relationship, Corey CRAVED your touch. He’d go out of his way to get it. Having his hand linger on yours if he gives you something, insisting for a hug when you vent, etc.

> Now that he has you, there is nothing better than feeling you.

> When you grab his hand if you feel nervous or scared, he’s over the moon. He wants to be your protector and the fact that you know that is perfect to him.

> He likes to be littered in kisses in reward for him doing well. Corey becomes more like Pre-Michael era when it comes to affection. Just an absolute puppydog looking for attention.

> Corey doesn’t like being away from you. It’s kind of like a separation anxiety where he’s worried being away from you means you’re in danger.

> So the best way to make him happy is to surprise him with your presence!

> Casually stopping by his work, claiming your car needs to be fixed when everything is fine just so you can see him.

> Asking for him to hang out randomly for no reason at all other than to be beside him. He’ll immediately swing by and pick you up the moment he opens the door to cuddle with you.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom Ch 6: Rock Hard

3.1k | Corey x Y/N, Corey x Y/N x Michael x Corey x Y/N | NSFW

Summary: They just can't help themselves 🥵

She turns off the flashlight and slowly holsters it along with her gun.  She takes a deep breath, mesmerized by Corey's disheveled, aroused state. 

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

Check out the art by @cordelium from Ch 5. commissions please don't repost their work without permission.

@ethanhoewke @kuromi2005 @rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires

18+ MDNI

_______________________

Corey watches (Y/N) survey the scene and prays she arrived alone.  

Seeing her in uniform takes him back to 2019 when she felt him up at the courthouse.  Corey now suspects that before she met Michael, she didn't desperately crave criminal cock.  He wonders if she was miserable like him or had a good life. He wonders what her first time with Michael was like.  He can still taste Michael's cock in his mouth, and his jaw is pleasantly sore. 

Her flashlight illuminates Dr. Mathis on the ground. She kicks him to make sure he's dead - probably not Sheriff's Office protocol.  She bends down and puts her fingers on the doctor's pulse through the dry-cleaning bag.  Corey quietly stands up, but stays doubled over, holding his bloody hand and pressing his wrist into his stiff, aching shaft. 

She's still looking at the doctor, inspecting the scene curiously. Her hand goes to her radio.   

"He was a bad guy," Corey interrupts.  His voice is even lower and more gravely than usual.   

She stands and whips around toward him. "Cunningham, is that you?"  Her light shines on him.

She touches her radio and says, "False alarm."  It beeps.  She comes closer and starts to ask, "What are you-" when she looks through the glass sliding door to the bedroom and sees Deb, the nurse, pinned to the wall. 

Her eyes widen and she steps closer to the sliding door.  "He was here."  She turns to face Corey more directly.  He raises an arm to shield his eyes from the light and she lowers it.  The light falls down his blue sweater and lands on his unbuttoned pants.  Her eyebrows shoot up, intrigued.  

She turns off the flashlight and slowly holsters it along with her gun.  She takes a deep breath, mesmerized by Corey's disheveled, aroused state.  The look on her face says his cock is the only thing in the world that matters right now.  He follows her gaze to the swell in his briefs peeking out from his unbuttoned pants.  

She approaches and stands right up against him.  He doesn't budge.  She grabs his ass.  Her uniform pants glide smoothly against his engorged briefs while her belt digs into his hip bones.  Corey begins to breathe heavier.  Before he knows it, his hands are unbuttoning her uniform top.  And she lets him.  No hesitation this time.  

Corey pauses and meets her eyes.  "Yeah, he was here," he tells her. "And you don't know Michael as well as you think." 

"Why's that," she asks quietly in his ear, uninterested.   She pulls him against her and grinds into him.  He swells harder and she exhales with a soft moan.  

"I sucked his cock," Corey says.

She laughs into his neck and her breath is warm on his skin.  Corey sniffs.  

She pulls back to look at him, and her smile fades when she sees his watery eyes. 

"Holy shit." For a moment, she looks like she's seen a ghost, but one she'd like to fuck.      

"Yeah," Corey says.  "It was. . ." His lip trembles.  

"Yeah," she says softly, looking into his eyes. 

She looks at him warmly and touches his cheek. There's a hint of sympathy but mostly wonder.  She closes her eyes and kisses his lips.  When she looks at him again, her eyes are wild.  She licks her lips and takes a deep breath.  She walks Corey up against the glass door. 

She breathes heavily, looks back and forth between his eyes, cradles his head with one hand, and kisses him desperately, like she wants to suck something out of him.  

She reaches into his briefs. 

"God,"  she says half into his mouth when she feels his naked girth.   

He thrusts into her hand. He's still painfully hard and her soft skin feels so good.  She pulls his cock out and steps back enough to marvel at it, then  lowers herself to her knees.  She admires it head on then wraps her lips around it.  She takes it halfway into her mouth and sucks. A pang of pleasure shoots through his gut. After only a moment, she stops to lustily admire it again.  She licks it up and down and massages it slowly in her hand as it weeps.  She sucks up his pre-cum and starts to take him into her mouth again, then stops. 

"No," she says, her brow furrowing as she thumbs the swollen head.  "I need you inside me."  

Corey inhales deeply. 

Her face is flushed and her chest heaves under her unbuttoned uniform. "Right now," she says to his cock, then looks up at Corey before standing.  She grabs a tool from her belt and pries open the glass door.  She holds it open for Corey and unbuckles her belt with the other hand. 

Corey undresses then sits at the foot of the bed, massive erection throbbing in one hand against his abdomen.

Her cheeks grow even rosier as she admires the pool of blood under Michael's artwork while pulling off her boots.  She puts the gun on the bed and lets the weight of her belt and holster send her pants to the floor with a thud.  She takes the radio off, turns it down, and throws it in the pile.    

She walks up between Corey's knees. He lets go of his cock and she grabs it while he pulls down her soaked underwear, then feels her with his thick fingers. 

Corey wants her so bad his face hurts, but he feels guilty about last time.  "Are you sure?" He asks. 

"God, yes," she says, and the breath in her voice leaves no doubt that she means it. 

She spreads her knees wide to straddle Corey’s broad frame on the bed. "You're right.  I guess I don't know him."  

Corey swallows. 

"He wants you alive," she adds.

She grabs his cock and massages her clit with it, breathing heavily. 

"You really sucked him off," she says, shaking her head.  "That's so fucking hot." She looks like she means it. 

She positions his swollen tip for entry. Corey's brow furrows.  He wets his lips as his large hands knead her hips.  

"Are you sure?" She asks. 

Between heavy breaths, he manages to say, "I'd die happy."  

Her wet heat begins to engulf the head of his cock. He groans and pulls her hips down.  

Her tight cunt sinks onto him and she gasps as her insides make way for his girth.  Corey thrusts his hips up and she moans.  She feels so hot, so wet, so snug. He can feel every ridge of her walls. She begins to rise up and he pulls her down harder.  His breath hitches as he bottoms out.  They grind their hips in rhythm.  

Red and blue lights flash in the fog outside and Corey's heart jumps into his throat. He freezes and his large hands force her still on his cock. 

"Is back-up coming?" He asks her.  

She doesn't even look. Her eyes are barely open.  "We're good, just fuck me," she begs, rolling her hips into him.

Corey wants nothing more than to do just that, but lights are definitely flashing outside.  

"A car's here," he insists.  She turns to look but the light cuts off before she can see it. 

She sighs and reaches for the gun. "Leave the look-out to me, okay? Fuck me, then we’ll get out of here." 

She rises halfway up his cock then sinks back down with a moan and starts rolling into him again.  She puts her wrists behind his head, holding the gun in one hand and fingering his curls with the other as she rides him.  Corey lets her, but he's hesitant. Law enforcement is definitely on the property.  

"Fuck me like you mean it," she demands.  She takes his chin in her hand.  "Now." She's not asking. 

She pauses to rip off her undershirt and bra.  Then she starts moving her hips again, her eyes drifting from the window to the artwork.  She takes a deep breath and begins riding him full-throttle, moaning.  

It feels too good. Corey closes his eyes and they kiss sloppily – So much for the look-out.  He kneads her asscheeks and already feels like he could come any second.  

A noise outside startles him. 

"It's nothing," she says, incapable of caring about anything but his cock inside her.  She keeps riding him. A rush of pleasure shoots from his balls, through his chest, to his throat. His ass clenches and he erupts inside her, his strong arms wrapping around her back.  He buries his mouth in her neck to keep from making noise. She moans quietly with each pulse of his enormous load. When his balls are empty, Corey slows to a halt. Any other time, he'd be committed to making her come. 

"No, no, no, PLEASE don't stop," she begs. She's practically crying. 

Corey feels bad.  She's already such a hot mess, how long could it possibly take her to come?  What's more, if he's honest with himself, he feels so much safer with her walls around his cock, even in this hazardous situation.  He hopes she'll finish quickly.

"Yeah," he pants.  "Just a sec." Her hips move and his large hands still her.  

She twitches around him and he groans from the overstimulation, but a loud crash cuts him off.  Corey reflexively tightens his arms around her.  They sit frozen on the bed.  

There's a scuffle, a man groans, and something clatters to the ground.  

Corey starts to whisper, “should we-”

"Shhh. Don't move," she says. 

They stay perfectly still for what feels like five minutes.  His cock twitches inside her and her nipples harden against his pecs.  

They hear footsteps.  She lets Corey's cock slide out and slowly leans back to peer across the room.  His hands on her hips keep her from falling off him.   The blood rushes to his pounding heart and head.  Both of them stay frozen, looking toward the sound.   

-

The footsteps resume and get closer, heavier.  

A shadow appears.

Then a shape.

It's Michael Myers.   

***

Michael enters the room with a knife in one hand and something else in the other.  He stops to observe the scene, sniffing the air like an animal.  Corey should be afraid, but he feels a rush of life and arousal.  

Michael approaches the bed from the side, with Corey and (Y/N) both frozen on the foot of the bed, breathing heavily.  She's still straddling Corey.  

Michael observes them like one of his art installations, then tosses two Sheriff's Office badges onto the bed next to them.  Michael stares at the badges, then at them, as though to say, "you're welcome."

His boots thud as he slowly steps to the foot of the bed to stand in front of them.  She begins to dismount Corey, but Michael stops her with the flat of his knife on the nape of her neck.  Her nipples pucker.  Corey keeps his arms around her and watches Michael.  There's a prominent bulge in Michael’s suit.  

Michael breathes deeply and slowly.  He begins to  unzip his own jumpsuit.  She hears the zipper and looks at Corey with her eyes wide.  Corey’s cock rapidly hardens against her clit, and her eyes close with a gasp.  Corey can’t tell if she’s scared or excited until she rubs herself against Corey's cock.   She’s so warm and slick.  Even wetter than before.  

Corey swells back to full mast with a shudder. He doesn’t dare move.  He glues his eyes to Michael's unzipped uniform.  Michael’s breath gets louder and his monster cock falls out.  It almost seems to glisten.  

-

Corey is still sitting there with (Y/N) straddling his lap.  Michael steps forward and spreads his feet to either side of Corey’s, looming over them.  Michael’s large hand on her back pushes both of them down. Corey lies flat while she hugs him with all fours.  

Michael huffs, bends his knees, and his hand presses down on the small of her back.  He lets his cock fall between her legs and graze Corey’s balls, sending a shockwave through Corey.  Michael slickens himself with their combined mess, then aligns himself, holds her down, and plunges into her ass.  

Her eyes go wide, her mouth falls open, and she grunts as she’s propelled forward, wetly dragging up Corey’s shaft.  She reaches down and nestles Corey's tip in her front door and he gasps.  

Michael retreats slightly, then he pulls her back hard onto both of them and she groans.  Her cunt is so tight on Corey’s cock with Michael in her ass.  Through her thin membrane, Corey feels Michael's every groove and vein right up against his own. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before or even knew he could feel.  He rests his hands on her back and gazes into the holes of the mask, taking it all in.  

Michael puts his hands down on the bed. He pulls back, then thrusts into her harder, and Corey feels every inch of his monster cock push by.  Michael hovers over them, his mask making eye contact with Corey.  Corey starts fucking her warm, wet cunt in sync with Michael's rhythm. Corey pulls back while Michael pushes in.  

Their bodies drift back toward the headboard.  The mattress sinks under Michael’s weight as he kneels on the bed, straddling Corey’s legs, and they keep fucking.  With every thrust into her, Michael’s cock firmly strokes Corey’s, and every time, a pang of pleasure shoots through Corey’s ass. 

Corey thought his wildest dream was to fuck Michael, but he never could have imagined the intimacy of this moment, feeling the rock-hard silhouette of Michael's cock drag against his own, hot and wet, their balls meeting, the mask gazing down at him. 

Their three bodies blur together in synchronicity.    Corey grunts and Michael breathes.  She groans and wails as she’s fucked by both killers at the same time.  They continue pounding her, their shafts sliding against each other through her thin wall.  

Michael audibly grunts, making Corey’s balls jerk.  Corey doesn’t want to finish yet, but the next time the shape drags against him, it’s too late.  Corey pulsates powerfully as he comes. Michael keeps fucking her, rubbing against Corey's cock, slapping into his slowly emptying balls.  Corey groans at the overstimulation.  

Her walls contract and she moans into Corey's neck.  Michael doesn’t let up.  The rhythm of his hard, veiny length keeps Corey coming longer than he ever has.  Corey groans loudly and she wails. They sound like wild animals as they come together while Michael remains relentless. 

Corey tries to kiss her but Michael grabs both her wrists, pulling her chest up and away.  He holds her arms out.  Her breasts quake as she finishes coming. Then, her head bows in exhaustion and she silently cries, tears falling onto Corey.  She and Michael look like an obscene crucifix.  As her convulsions fade, he lets her collapse onto Corey.  

Michael pulls out, still absurdly erect, but Corey stays inside her.  Safe, comfortable, protected.  

***

Corey is just beginning to catch his breath when his legs are forced open by Michael kneeling between them.  His whole body erupts in goosebumps.  Michael drags his cock through the frothy blend trickling down Corey's balls, then his wet tip probes Corey’s entrance.  Corey is instantly rock hard again inside (Y/N).  She whimpers and stays wrapped around Corey’s body, enrobing his hard cock. Michael’s arms wrap around Corey’s thighs. 

Michael yanks Corey back on his wet cock, breaching the tight, virgin ring of muscle.  Corey hears his own groan echo through the house before he can fully process that this is really happening.  Michael plunges into him again.  When the swollen tip hits Corey’s prostate, Corey feels like God is physically touching his soul.  His eyes sting with tears. 

Michael's powerful thrusts into Corey propel (Y/N) up Corey’s cock, then she sinks back down as Michael retreats. The three of them move as one machine with Michael as the engine.  Corey feels something building deep inside him.  

She moans into Corey's neck and the flat of her teeth press into his skin as Michael’s rhythm bounces her on Corey’s cock.  Corey’s prostate throbs harder and harder.  He's never been this hard, and he can hear it in her whimpers. 

Her tight, wet cunt massages his cock while Michael destroys his hole and rearranges his insides.  Michael shows no signs of fatigue.  The pressure builds more and more and Corey savors every second.  

Something explodes deep within Corey, sending several pulsing waves through his body before his cock erupts again.  He groans as the most intense rush overwhelms him and he pulsates enormously inside her.  She cries out and contracts around him. She bites his neck and moans into him. 

Michael twitches inside Corey and inhales sharply.  Michael grunts, then softly groans as his cock pumps violently into Corey, and Corey keeps coming.  

There’s a whole galaxy flowing between them, with Michael’s unfathomable load emptying into Corey and Corey’s into her.  Michael stays still and quiet as he finishes, while she and Corey writhe and moan into each other. 

Michael pulls out and drops Corey’s legs, then zips up.  He stands by the bed and picks up his knife, gripping  the handle, blade-down.  For a moment, Corey thinks this might be the end of his life.  But Michael observes them for a few seconds, then walks out. 

***

Corey quietly sobs.  A week ago, he had nothing and no idea what he wanted.  He was too tired to dare to dream.  Michael plucked him from the edge of death and gave him new life, purpose, and want.  And now he's made Corey's dreams come true, and more.    

Corey is euphoric.  Life makes sense.  He's struck by the interconnectedness of everything and everyone and every little moment.  For the first time, he's glad Jeremy Allen died that night.  He's glad he was bullied and tormented for three years.  He's happy to be the psycho.  He's proud to be Haddonfield's other Boogeyman.  Because all of that brought him to this moment right here. 

-

(Y/N) gently coaxes Corey into leaving.  First, they strip the bed and take the linens.  There are two dead cops - one in the kitchen, one outside.  The one outside is face down in the pool in a giant cloud of red.

He makes her swear not to burn, dump, or even wash the linens.  He wants to keep them forever.  She's obviously just pacifying his post-coital psychosis when she agrees, but he still appreciates it.  

She calls the scene in to dispatch as if she had the wrong address before. Then, Corey leaves on his motorcycle.  He clenches his ass as he rides, wanting to keep Michael's seed inside as long as possible.  

[loveandmurders]

The beginning of a love story I (Corey Cunningham x f!reader)

Hello everyone!

While I’m working on your requests, I’m posting the first part of a series about Corey (aka my baby boy who deserved better). It starts with reader arriving in town and meeting Corey.

It’s been a while I wanted to post for him, so I really hope you will enjoy this <3

Warnings: mention of an abusive family (reader’s), mention of killing and blood stains, Corey being yelled at and harassed by townspeople

You have just arrived in town. You obviously heard a lot about Haddonfield because of Michael Myers and all the killing, but you thought that this dark period was over and that the city was now safe enough for you to hide there. Anything was better than where you used to be anyways.

Plus, there was something quite fascinating about these stories. You couldn’t help but think of what it would be to act like Michael one day. You didn’t wonder much why you would kill your whole family. You wished you could be as strong and insane as him, that you wouldn’t feel anything about your victims. You wished to be a bad person, sometimes.

Just to be finally free.

You were actually running away from a very toxic family; you just wanted and needed a fresh start. And you easily found a job in this town, because a lot of people were leaving. You also found a house for a really low price. Apparently some people died there, and no one wanted to buy it. You were close to the Myers house too. Because of the abandoned houses, the neighbourhood was quiet and a little bit sad. But it was all good for you because you didn’t have a lot of money and you desired a peaceful life for a change. You could see yourself being happy here. 

You had decided to take your future into your own hand and to finally be yourself, and a joyful self too. Your parents were abusive and they badly fucked you up, but you had said “no more” and you left forever.

You were able to breathe now you were away from them, somewhere they would never look for you because it was literally a little town across the whole country. 

You hoped you were free and safe now.

You didn’t come with a lot of bagages. Actually, it was only one little bag, with a computer, a phone, some books, some clothes and no memories of your past. You were looking around your house; it was quite empty for the moment and you were going to have to hire some people to take care of the whole decorations. But because you spent your whole economy buying this place of your own, you knew you would only be able to pay for a room after another. However, it didn’t matter to you as you quite enjoyed the idea that you were building your own home, with your own money and your own taste. The house seemed old for the moment, but it was yours, and it was more than you ever had so far. You were pleased with yourself for the first time in forever.

You spent the whole day cleaning up. The house freshened up thanks to your hard work. And even if the wallpapers clearly had known better days, the ground was shining and the dust was gone. It was really not that bad. However, you made a mental note to very soon find a rug for the living room because you hadn’t been able to remove the old blood stains. Someone definitely died here. And you had to admit that when you discovered them, it gave you some goosebumps and you shivered in disgust. Thankfully the murders happened decades ago, and you weren’t afraid of ghosts: you had your own demons to fight against.

You were so tired that you collapsed on the couch that whined under your weight. You really needed to buy some new furniture. So far, you have only gotten a new bed.

Actually, new pieces of furniture weren’t the only things you had to get… Indeed, you had to make a choice between a new car and a new house: you had picked the house. And then you had to pick between fixing your old car and getting a new bed: you took the new bed. But you knew you really needed to find a cheap place to take care of your vehicle as soon as possible, or you weren’t certain you would be able to even go for some food shopping for very long. You took a look at the clock and decided it wasn’t that late, and that you still had some time to find a garage. You opened google maps and looked for the closest mechanics around. You found a mechanic shop situated inside a junkyard owned by a man named Ronald Prevo. It seemed cheap enough, and people seemed quite happy with the fix they got for their cars. Some of them complained about the presence of “a creepy pedo who deserves to die” though. You were a little bit worried about this, but if they could just make sure your car didn’t die on you for a low price, it was good enough for you.

You got up despite how much your body was telling you you should go lay down. You grabbed your coat and keys before leaving your house. You locked the front door and made sure the door was indeed perfectly secure. Despite the fact you didn’t own anything of value and that in a small town people didn’t lock their doors up, you were a little bit paranoid. The simple idea of a stranger getting inside your house was driving you crazy. You needed to feel safe more than anything in your whole existence.

You settled in your car and followed google maps to your destination. Truth to be told, once you arrived, you weren’t too impressed with the look of the place, but now that you were there… Plus, you believed you knew enough about cars to avoid being scammed. Your father was so obsessed with his truck that it forced you to pick on some knowledge about it, even though you weren’t particularly interested in it. 

You parked your car behind another one. The client before you was yelling at a young man of your age. He had curly brown hair, and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that he was quite cute. You also recognised a lot of yourself when he looked down at the ground, letting the man talking to him with so much rage and hatred. It twisted your stomach and you felt sick instantly. You had no idea what was going on, but it didn’t feel right to you. You got out of your car and watched the interaction, ready to intervene. 

“Look, psycho, I told you I needed the tires to be checked, not changed!” the man yelled again, and you realised that the “pedo” was probably that cute guy… Damn, that sucked so much! For once someone was attractive around you... You shook your head; you didn’t know the whole story and you couldn’t believe rumours and insults. The Internet was full of trolls and you knew that in a small town, people could be dangerously intense because everyone knew everyone. The man was about to grab the “psycho” by the collar when you stepped closer.

“Is everything okay there?” you asked. You tried your best to sound polite. You were new in town and you didn’t want trouble the first day of your arrival, but you couldn’t let harassment happen without doing anything about it. You usually were a bit uneasy around people you didn’t know, but your strong belief in justice was making you bolder.

“Don’t know you… You’re new here?” the man asked and you simply nodded “Ah well, that’s fine then. Let me tell you to stay away from that freak. He killed a kid and probably did other things to him before getting rid of him, like a broken doll…” the man informed you and you saw the boy looking away from you, with so much embarrassment and shame written all over his body language and face. He clearly wanted to disappear in a hole and to never be found again. You knew you couldn’t judge a book by its cover, but the boy seemed too sweet to kill anyone on purpose.

“Really? Kinda surprised he isn’t in jail then. I mean if everyone knows for sure…” you replied. You really didn’t like complotists, especially when they were using their stories to hurt someone who already seemed so afraid.

“The judge was corrupted. His mom paid him to save his ass” he replied and you arched an eyebrow at that.

“Look, sir, thank you for your concern and all, but I really need my car to be fixed.” you replied, not impressed at all.

“This pedo…” the man started but you cut him off

“If I’m not certain that this boy could hurt me, I’m positive that if my brakes don’t work any more, I do have a high chance of dying. I just want my car checked, nothing more. And I’m pretty sure that if he changed your tires, it was because it was necessary. If you’re not happy here, why didn’t you go somewhere else in the first place?” you asked, using all your logic against the man who watched you in pure bewilderment. The boy was quite stunned too and he blushed while looking on the ground as you so calmly and smartly took his defence.

The man mumbled something about you being an idiot, but you didn’t care much. He paid the boy and left as quickly as possible, still grumbling to himself. You kindly smiled at the boy, and he seemed even more taken aback. He very shyly answered your smile back before carefully stepping closer to you, showing you he was ready to take care of your problem.

“So, as you can see my car isn’t in the greatest of shape. It’s quite old and it’s been a while I should have found a mechanic… Do you think you could do a global check up right away and see how bad it is?” you explained to him. You enjoyed how attentive to what you were saying he seemed to be. He nodded and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Oh no problem at all. I’ll have a quick look around and I'll let you know” he said and you handed him the car key. You settled on the hood of an old truck as you watched him check your car up. You really found him adorable and you hated yourself for that. It wasn’t because you took his defence, that you were completely on his side. After all, you didn’t know what happened and the death of a kid really didn’t look good. 

You got bored after a little while and started to check your phone and scroll on social media. You were making sure your parents still didn’t know where you were. You had changed your phone number and threw aways your old phone so they couldn’t find you. Hopefully.

The boy finally came back to you, whipping his hands on a cloth.

“It really needs some fixing here and there. Nothing too bad, honestly, but safety first” he hummed and you nodded

“Do you think it has to be done right away?” you asked again and he shook his head

“I made sure everything was alright and I changed one piece before it could fall apart. It would be better if you could let us work on your car for a couple of days though” he saw your eyes widening at that

“Oh, well. I guess I’ll need to find a bike or something” you laughed, even if you weren’t too happy about this

“I can see if we can let you borrow one of the cars we have here” he offered, clearly eager to make things as easy as possible for you

“You could do that?” you asked, hopeful.

“Yes, sure. Stay here, I’ll be back” he said and you obeyed. Damn, that boy was really cute… He really couldn't be a child killer. At least you were hoping so.

After a few instants, he came back with a gentle smile. “Yep, in two days, you can come back with your car and we’ll let you borrow another one while we take care of yours. You’ll have some stuff to sign but no fuss” he explained.

“That’s very great, thank you. I’m Y/N L/N by the way” you introduced yourself

“I’m Corey Cunningham” he replied back “T-Thank you for earlier.” he whispered, blushing a little bit.

“No problem, I know how shitty people can be sometimes.” you reassuringly replied, but Corey only gave you a weak smile as if to tell you that once you would know the whole story, you wouldn’t even want to breathe the same air as him. And it would truly break his heart because you were the first person of the day to calmly talk to him, and to be almost friendly with him, apart from his step father. Your voice brought him back to reality “Do I need to pay you anything for the check up or should I pay once the car is fixed? Do you think I can pay in instalments…?” you asked. Even though the boy looked cute, you really wanted to go home and have some rest. Corey shook his head.

“You can go and we’ll find the best way for you, no worries,” he smiled. You were pretty certain you should have paid something right away but you were glad about that.

“Well thank you Corey. I’ll see you in two days” you said and you extended your hand toward him so he could give you your key back. He had a moment of hesitation, as if he was about to say something, before giving your key back to you, silently. He had decided against opening his mouth. “Yes?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and he seemed surprised you caught on to his body language that quickly. He blushed even more and looked away.

“I can… I can give you my number if you want. That way if something happens with your car you can call me, and I’ll come fix things up right away. You know, just in case, it doesn’t survive two days” he softly babbled. You silently cursed yourself as you really found him the cutest. You kindly smiled at him.

“Yes, sure, sounds like a good plan” you accepted and he was stunned that you agreed. He grabbed a piece of paper he had in his pocket and wrote his number down before giving it to you. You went back in your car, waved at him and left. He watched you leave, with butterflies in his stomach.

PART II

[astronautforhalloween]

[e1dritchjackal0pe]

Rabbit Foot

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢:  𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 . . . 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽. I𝗍'𝗌 2 𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖿𝗎𝗅 

You should have known that this little trip back down to Haddonfield was going too smoothly. Sure, you had only been here for about two days, but still. Disaster is part of the little towns being, stained into its fibers like the residue at a crime scene. It doesn't usually take long for trouble to announce itself. 

Your mother and father's nagging has been down to a surprising low, probably sucking up to you because you're finally back, even if the circumstances are less than ideal, and the few familiar faces that have recognized you when you were down at the market and gas station were kind enough, welcoming you back after all the years. 

So, you honestly can't say you're surprised to see the white strips of smoke snaking out from underneath the orange hood of your car. 

You curse over the sound of Billy Squier belting out the chorus of My Kinda Lover, while checking your rear-view mirror to make sure the road was clear before pulling over on the shoulder.

This is the sort of karma to expect when you drive a busted 70's Pinto. 

But at least your car broke down on a county road and not the highway or interstate. 

You try to remember the steps to take for an overheated vehicle while you set it in park and turn the volume dial down on the radio. You can't recall exactly what your father had told you when you were only a child, zoning in and out of focus on the front drive while he monologued from underneath his truck. 

Pullover . . . Shut off the car . . . pop the hood . . . let it cool . . . Wasn't there something else? God, if only you had payed attention when you were twelve, but the lawn was just so much more appealing than your dad's life lessons. 

You turn the key over in the ignition and extract it, listening to the engine die before getting out and coming round to the front. You have to squint your eyes against the vapors when you fumble for the latch through the grille. As soon as you lift the hood your rushed by a plum of pale smoke. It makes it a pain to find the support rod for a bit, but you get it eventually, successfully propping the hood. Leaving you to stare stupidly at the engine of your car, hissing like a pissed off cat. 

Now . . . What? 

Calling for help would be your best bet. Your mother is a no, as she's undoubtedly working her shift at the bank. Your dad is probably passed out in the living room, snoring on his La-Z-Boy, enjoying the weekend off for once. You really didn't want to give either of them anymore ammunition against you, but the only other option is waiting until your car cooled off enough and hoping it will start when you try. 

While you're deep in your internal debate you fail to notice the thrum of an engine approaching and then relaxing into an idle before cutting off completely.

It's the sound of your name that breaks you from your daze, and you nearly break your neck to turn and face the owner of the voice. They look just as perplexed as you do, staring at you like you're a ghost. 

God, this person looks familiar. You take in his dark doe like eyes, and the mop of curls on his head while he stands a bit awkwardly on the other side of the road next to a gold and black motorcycle. And then it clicks. 

"Corey?" 

"They're talking about me already I see," you joke, a small playful smile curling across your face, easily falling into the swing of conversation. Even after all these years.

A gentle smile raises at the corners of his mouth, and he seems to relax a bit, looking a bit more like the boy you'd see walking the hallways at high school and less like a stranger. Damn, you forgot how cute he looks when he's happy. 

"I was scared you wouldn't remember me, " he says as he covers  the road between the both of you to stand close to the side of your car. " I thought I was going crazy for a minute. Never thought I'd see you back in Haddonfield, again. I mean . . . I heard you were back, but I didn't believe it."

"You know how it is, " he shrugs his shoulder lightly, " can't take a shit without somebody hearing about it" 

"Some things never change, I guess."

"Were you expecting them to?"

"No, " you scoff under a breath of laughter, " I'd never set my expectations for this place that high." 

That gets a chuckle out of him, and you take the lull in conversation to look to the Kawasaki parked across the road. 

  " So, how've you been lately? Looks like you got a new ride." You blurt the question out before you can check yourself. You know how he's been. You've heard the rumors and allegations about him just this afternoon while you were at the market, stocking up on some much-needed junk food and a bottle of wine when you had been practically bum-rushed by your old history teacher, Mrs. Brewer. Upon recognizing you she was quick to crowd into your space with a flurry of questions: " How are you?" " How has life been treating you?" "Got a lucky fella waiting for you back home?" But once all of the formalities were out of the way she was quick to jump into the local gossip that you missed over the years.

Mostly boring disputes between neighbors and little details about ex classmates moving on and starting families. You blanked most of it out, nodding and humming absentmindedly until an old name caught your attention.

" Have you heard about Corey Cunningham? I don't know if you shared any classes with him back in the da - oh, no matter! Well, just a few years after you left, on Halloween - of course it was! - he had been babysitting the Allen's kid. Well . . . " She scoffs in an almost amused manner before leaning in and whispering like she was telling you a big secret. " He had killed him just as the parents had come home. Kicked the poor child over the railing. Tried to say it was an accident. Got away with it too, scot-free. "

Despite Mrs. Brewers intel, you are already well aware of the incident. Your mother had made sure to call you the night right after that Halloween to indulge you every single horrid detail regarding the crime. You had felt confused and possibly even a bit betrayed.

How could Corey commit such a senseless act of violence?

You couldn't have helped the relief that flooded your body when she had called you several months later to share that he had been cleared of all charges.

Corey seems to tense at the question, not that you can blame him. Instead of immediately answering he glances over his shoulder to look at his bike, probably thinking about hopping on it and speeding off. " It's a work in progress, but it gets me from point A to point B so I can't really complain. As for how I've been . . . " There's a pause like he's looking for the right way to phrase it. " I've been surviving. "

After running into your old teacher, you were quick to ask you father about the incident when you had swung by your parents. He had offered you a little more insight, though his opinion of Corey was pretty similar to Mrs. Brewer's and your mothers. That despite being proven innocent, Corey had been quick to be pegged as a social pariah. "I always knew there was something wrong with that kid. Even before that night, " your dad had said before taking a bite of his homemade ham and cheese sandwich.

So, it was just Haddonfield being Haddonfield then. Quick to cast the stone and pass judgement, as per usual.

Sure, you and Corey had never extremely close growing up. Apart from sharing a few classes and the occasional chance encounter your relationship was little more than that. But even then, there was no way that sweet, awkward Corey would willing take a child's life.

You offer him a lifeline, " there's not much else you can do in Haddonfield. " 

That gets a small chuckle out of him, and he seems a bit more at ease again. " You're right about that. But enough about me, how have you been doing? I thought that you couldn't wait to get out of here. What brought you back?" 

"Oh uh, my grandfather passed recently, so I'm here to help go through his things and get everything organized, " you say, swallowing a lump. You've done your best to ignore the dull ache in your chest, but it seems to be getting worse each passing day. And the sad look that Corey gives you doesn't help. He seems like he regrets opening his mouth and for some reason that makes you feel even worse.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

" It still hasn't really clicked that he's gone, you know? So, it's fine. I was actually heading to his house to start working on clearing some things out when this decided to take a shit on me, " you say, lightly kicking the front bumper with your shoe. 

"No, it's fine. Don't feel bad about it, " you say, shaking your head. You meant it too. Despite having to deal with countless people questioning you about your grandfathers passing, having heard the news from your mother no doubt, you don't mind talking about it with Corey. 

He didn't ask you with the intention of opening up wounds and prodding his nose into your family affairs, not the old gossips in town. 

"Mind if I take a look?" He asks.

"Please do. " You back away giving him room to work with and watching him as he leans over to inspect the contents of the engine. The smoke is next to nothing now, spars puffs that evaporate as quickly as they form. You can't help but study him as works, wondering how someone so familiar can look so different. Maybe it's the leather jacket, or the little band of silver that wraps around his pinky finger, or the absence of his glasses that used to rest on the bridge of his nose (contacts, maybe?), but something seems different about him. 

Well, of course, it's been nearly three years since you've seen him, you remind yourself, people change. 

You lean down next to him, pretending to help look for the problem even though the assortment of wires and metal make about as much sense to you as a jumbled pile of puzzle pieces. 

The close proximity lets you catch the scent of his cologne, mostly sandalwood with creamy and smoky undertones, a little bit of leather. Probably his jacket. 

He's got this studious look on his face, eyebrows pinched and slightly furrowed. A loose curl dangles above his eyes and it's a little distracting, a part of you is tempted to move it out of the way for him, to push it into unruly bundle of his hair that looks like it has flecks of amber in it because of the evening sunlight.

"So, what were you doing all the way out here, anyway?"

Jesus, since when have you ever had thoughts like these about Corey Cunningham? He used to be the one who would look at you. You would catch his fleeting glances while on your way to class, always pretending not to see the dreamy stares or the faint blush to his cheeks. 

You weren't stupid. You knew what that look meant.

But you had been in a relationship. And despite the fact that a cute kind guy with warm brown eyes had a crush on you, you stayed away. Because you had a boyfriend who treated you like dog shit and didn't deserve your time. But you were young and stupid and had thought that you were in love. 

His head perks up just a bit at your question and he pauses for a minute before answering. " I just like to ride sometimes. Just get away for a bit, even if it's only for a few minutes. " 

"It looks like it may be a bad radiator hose. They just get old and worn out and snap, " he concludes suddenly, rising to his full height. 

There's something melancholic about it. Even after all these years, his circumstances are still the same, if not worse. It reminds you of one distant chilly November evening. You were down at the local park, gently swaying on a swing when you had noticed a figure briskly walking across the lawn. It didn't take you long to recognize it as Corey. He seemed agitated, tense, like he was too big for his body and was seconds away from bursting out of it. His mother you assumed was most likely the culprit. It was no secret that she was (is) overbearing and controlling. Helicopter parent would be an understatement. When you thought of it, you had never actually seen Corey at any parties or out with friend's past 7:00 pm. 

From what you could gather his life was a constant routine of school and occasionally helping out the Allen's family with mowing their yard and pulling stubborn weeds.

You probably should have stayed put and let him walk away. Out of sight out of mind. 

But your body had a mind of its own, launching off of the swing and in his direction. It had only taken you seconds to reach him, and he looked startled and a bit confused when you had asked if you could join him. But he agreed, nonetheless. 

 You had offered him a few puffs of the joint stuffed in your pocket, but he had declined. He didn't want her to smell it, he confessed, and it had been enough to keep you from pulling it out and lighting it up with your Bic lighter. 

You had talked about everything and nothing, until the sun had dipped down low, and it was just a strip of lavender bordering the horizon. Upon noticing the time, you had said your goodbyes and he ran off in the direction of his house to be home in time for dinner. 

That had been the first time you had heard his laugh. You liked it a lot. 

"How much does that usually cost? " You can already feel the worry creeping in at the thought of your already desperate bank account. You really couldn't afford a large blow to it, right now.

"Eh, it depends really. If you do it yourself or hire someone, " he explains, eyeing the engine and combing a hand through his hair. " The part itself is usually anywhere from fifteen to thirty bucks. It depends on the quality and if you get a mechanic to do it for you." 

Damn, this is definitely what you needed right now. When it rains it pours and the umbrella you have for cover is about as stable your mental health on a busy workday. 

" I could do it, " Corey offers you. 

"How much would you charge me?" 

"No, Corey, I'm serious-"

He shakes his head slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets, " I wouldn't."

You can't help but stare at him like he grew two heads, like he's telling a weird joke and you're waiting for the punchline. Meanwhile he looks as serious as can be.

Almost hopeful if you didn't know any better. 

"So am I, " he states firmly.

The look you give him is incredulous. You're ready to argue and he can tell by the way your jaw open to speak, so he beats you to the punch. 

"I don't want your money," he says. There's a finality to it. He levels you with his eyes almost like he's challenging you to try and argue with him. But you don't want to try and go round and round in circles until one of you relents to the other. You're more confused than anything. And you want answers. 

"Why do you always do that? " You step closer to him like you'd find the answer that way. He's not following judging from is lack of response, so you elaborate, "you're always go out of your way to help me. Like the night back at the gas station. Why?"

A smile pokes at his lips but despite his apparent amusement he answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Just a fact. 

"Because you're a good person." 

" So, you won't let me pay you?" 

The response does little to satisfy you and you can't help the huff the gets pushed from your lungs. 'Good person' my ass. But maybe he was telling the truth, maybe it just wasn't the answer you wanted. You wanted that night to mean something more than it did. So that you didn't feel stupid about those old forgotten feelings heating up in your chest. Maybe he was just a nice person. 

Maybe that night when your douche of a boyfriend had kicked you out of his lifted Chevy and out onto the curb of some gas station, Corey had just offered to escort you the three miles back home out of the kindness of his heart. Because he felt bad for you. 

You had felt so embarrassed and useless when you had jumped out of the truck and stormed into the 'Gulf.'  You were at the slurpy machine, filling up a medium sized cup when Corey had approached you. As hesitant as he was, he seemed worried. Brows furrowed and raised with concern. 

He had asked if you were okay, and you had told him you were. It was short, clipped and tired. You had felt guilt gnaw at your stomach as soon as you had responded, but your pride wouldn't let you apologize. 

You expected him to back away, to be put off by your anger. But he didn't. He stayed. 

The two of you would sit outside, drinking a cherry slurpy and a Yoo-Hoo, and he'd sit and listen when the dame broke, and you vented until your throat felt raw. Then he'd offer to walk you home, knowing that you wouldn't call your parents. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction of saying, "I told you so." Despite the fact that his own mother would have his head for having vanished for about two hours without so much as a word. 

He'd guard you both as you strolled down the lonely streets lined with dim lamps, while the rest of Haddonfield was piled in the bleachers cheering on the Huskers while they played against their long-term rivals, the Montgomery Wolverines. 

All the way up to the doorstep of your house where you'd whisper a thank you and goodnight, punctuated by a light kiss on his cheek before fleeing into the confines of your home before you could see the way his face flushed in response. 

Was that just because he was a good person? 

" You can, but I'll just find a way to slip it back to you, " he says honestly. That smile is back. Cocky and self-assured. It's one you've never seen on him before, and you can't tell if it excites you or pisses you off. "We can go back to the garage, and I'll get the tow truck. Come back and get your car. With all the junk that passes through I'm sure we've probably got what you need laying around somewhere. We'll have back up and running and on your way to your grandfathers in no time." 

What the hell, maybe you can convince him to let you pay him once you get a decent meal in him. 

The two of you have a stare off for a few good seconds while you mull the offer over. As tempting as it is to let someone else take care of your problems, your morals are having trouble bending over. A compromise maybe? 

"Fine, "you relent. " But I'm buying dinner."

"Sounds like a deal," he agrees. "You can come with me if you want. It'll be dark soon and I don't like the idea of being out here all alone."

"Hey! " You call over to him, his head snapping up in your direction. " You want something to drink before I lock up? I got a cooler full of water and some sodas if you want. No chocolate milk unfortunately. " 

There's a protective edge to his voice and you can't help but think about how much you like it. You nod, giving a quick 'okay' in agreement before moving around to lock the doors and roll up the windows of your car. The last thing you need is for some jackass to steal your vehicle while you're gone. Despite how shitty it may be. 

Corey crosses the road to his Kawasaki and stands over it, giving it a strong downward push to one of the pedals. Effectively kickstarting the machine in a way that shouldn't be as attractive as it is. 

"What I need right now is you on my bike," he says seriously. You're thankful for the wanning sunlight, or else he probably would be able to see how flustered you are. The embarrassment would kill you.  "Alright, alright! I'm coming!" You call, slamming the driver side door closed, stepping away from the car and approaching Corey and the idling motorcycle. 

You place a hand on Corey's shoulder to stabilize yourself as you swing a leg over to straddle the ride.

"Hold on tight, " he warns.

It prompts you to wrap your arms around his waist and he briefly puts a hand on your forearm and squeezes before gassing up the throttle and lurching forward with a hearty growl from the engine. 

You can't help the airy giggle that bubbles up in your throat, and you're pretty sure that shaking from Corey's body is due to his own laughter, but you can't hear the sound over the sound of the motorcycle roaring down the county road. 

In this moment, however brief it maybe, you forget everything. Your grandfathers passing, your mother and father, your responsibilities, Haddonfield.

It all goes away with the rush of adrenaline that jumps through your veins and the wind in your hair. 

It's just you, Corey and the road. And you think you haven't felt so alive in forever.

Maybe being back isn't going to be a complete bust after all. 

[screamiac]

(AFAB reader)

Y/N throwing themselves onto the bed : I have cramps.

Slasher, lowkey flirting : You know what could help with that?

Y/N, dramatically, face buried into a pillow : Killing myse-

Slasher : nO-

[luna-charlie]

Slashers : *literally a blood thirst killer

Us: I think you need a hug + kisses

Slashers:*confused slasher noise*

[i-arch-my-backula]

Horror characters with an s/o in a band head canons

Sorry for barely posting. I say this every time I post but I've been very busy lately with a lot of stuff but I'm still trying to find time to write time for y'all. So for these head canons I'm just putting a blanket statement of the reader is in a rock band. Also I'm looking into writing for fem readers as I explore my own gender identity. But reader's gender isn't specified in this.

Includes: Corey Cunningham, Tiffany Valentine, Amanda Young, Billy Loomis, and Martin Mathias

Content includes: Possessive behavior, murder mentions, implied murder, mentions of saw traps in Amanda's section, brief 'stalking' mentions, not proof read

Corey Cunningham

Pre-Michael he's going to feel a little awkward going into a show that you're playing at. If you play something like shoe gaze or some kind of softer rock music he won't feel as awkward going into to see you preform but if you play harder rock or even metal he's going to feel very out of place.

Pre-Michael Corey would also try his hardest to learn about whatever instrument you play for the band or if you sing he'll try his best to learn about singing and the best way to do it without hurting your vocal cords. He'll do his research on what you do because he wants to be the best supportive boyfriend he can be.

Pre-Michael Corey won't really get jealous of people cheering you on or being supportive of your music. He understands that they just enjoy your music and they want to show their support for you. After all, he's the one who gets to go back stage with you and to all the practices. He's really the lucky one.

Post Michael however is a different story. Now he's more open to whatever music you play. Even if it's harder music like metal or some kind of hard/alternative rock he's down for it. I wouldn't say he'd get in a mosh pit or anything like that anytime soon.

When he's post Michael he'll still keep knowledge about whatever instrument you play or how to take care of you if you sing. He'll become a little obsessive about it, going with you to every band practice or he'll watch you from somewhere else while you practice. Same goes for when you're at home. If you don't want him there you won't know that he's there.

Post Michael Corey is also a little more protective when it comes to your fans. Now he knows that you won't have that many fans that push boundaries with you, but any that try to push boundaries with you on this are going to pay the price.

Tiffany Valentine

Tiffany (in my opinion) is a gothic rock, post punk, dark wave, other goth music genres kind of girl. So if you play any of those kinds of music genres she's more than happy to go to one of your shows and support you there.

She will happily tell anyone listening that her lovely s/o is in the band playing on stage and that you're super talented, and it doesn't matter if they care about it or not, she's proud of you and she cares.

She might not know much about music but I can promise you that she's going to try her best to help you with practicing whatever instrument you play or whatever you need help with that's music related.

If you want her to go to your band practices with you she's all for that. She's happy to sit in and listen to whatever you're working on, it's not like she's going to tell anyone what you're doing, she'd never do you dirty like that.

She WILL be dressing up for all of your shows. It doesn't matter how big or small they are she needs to represent you and how well you treat her. She also just really likes getting dressed up to go out and this is an excuse to do that.

If you have band merch she will also wear it. Even if it's just some shirt with your band name or logo on it then she'll wear it while she sleeps or some other time. She prefers more feminine clothes so she might go as far as to paint on your band name and or logo onto some old dress she has just for fun.

Amanda Young

Amanda is a metalhead plain and simple. She likes harder music and if you play harder music she'll be happy to go to your show. If you play slower music, she hopes you won't take offense, but she might not go to all of your shows.

She might not go to all of your shows anyway because she's busy with her jigsaw work but she'll try to see at least a couple of your shows every time you have some.

I feel like if you're stuck on lyrics or where to go with a song she'll be there to help you with it. She might not be the most knowledgeable on music but she's going to try her best to help you get out of that rut.

If you need a song name she'll suggest something based off a trap she's made or just a trap in general. "What about 'knob twister'?" "What about Venus Fly Trap?" But she'll be more subtle with it if you're unaware of her being a jigsaw apprentice.

She won't take any of the other apprentices to your shows, she'll honestly keep you pretty separate from her 'work life' outside of telling John about you. If any of them somehow find out about you and your band she will get very defensive of you and she will swear if Hoffman ever goes to one of your shows she's going to put him in a reverse bear trap.

She won't get super jealous of fans of your music unless they start pushing boundaries. She gets people being fans of your work and wanting to meet you and stuff, but if they end up getting a little too far 'into' your music she may or may not put them in a trap.

Billy Loomis

It's the 90's and just like look at him, he's probably going to be into that slower, more shoegaze kind of stuff, he's the og male manipulator in more ways than one.

He'll try to be open to the kind of music that you play but if it doesn't interest him he probably won't be going to every single one of your shows. He'll make up excuses about having to do stuff for school and whatever.

But don't get it twisted, if anyone tries to make fun of you for the kind of music you play they're gonna meet ghostface real soon. Just because he might not be into your music it doesn't mean that other people are allowed to be mean to you about it.

This also applies to fans of your band who try and get a little too close to you for Billy's comfort. He understands that you're going to have fans of your music but that doesn't mean people are going to just get away with being obsessed with you, that's his job god damn it!

But if he's being as possessive as he usually is he'll have Stu go to one of your shows for him just to check things out and make sure nothing bad is happening there. He doesn't think you're going to cheat on him, he trusts you, he just doesn't trust other guys, unless it's Stu.

He'll play down how much he really does care about your music. He tries to keep up this kind of 'whatever' 'cool guy' persona but he really does care about your music and he might stalk you a little bit and just watch you at your band practices for fun.

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 3

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Angst, mild language

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

"He's coming?" Your friend Jessie asked, practically letting her jaw drop to the floor as she adjusted her cowboy hat in the mirror.

"Shh." You put a finger to your lips and pulled on a pair of black spandex for your cat costume. "I don't want to tell Winnie or Chris." You knew they would give you a hard time, but Jessie was a little more open minded.

"Okay, okay." She pretended to zip her lip. "I won't say anything."

"Thank you." You tossed on a black shirt with lacy sleeves before grabbing the cat mask. After Jessie checked herself out once more in the bathroom mirror, you reached for your keys. "Let's boogie," you whispered.

The ride over was focused on Joel talk, and you didn't particularly mind. You were kind of itching to talk about him.

"Are you into him?" Jessie asked.

You weren't a good liar so you were honest, despite the potential backlash. After that motorcycle ride it was like a switch had been flipped inside of you.

"Yeah. I mean, I think so."

"Wow." She giggled, "It's so.. random. Not judging. I just.. wow. Why?"

"Why?" You shrugged as you drove. "He gave me a ride on his motorcycle earlier and-"

"Wait, what?" She grabbed your forearm without even realizing it.

You laughed. "We rode around town and then he drove me back to pick up my car at the junkyard. That's why I was so late getting home."

"How old is he?"

"I'm not sure."

"He's a least ten years older than us. Probably more."

You shrugged again. "I'm just feeling things out. I really just want him to have a friend." You turned to look at Jessie for a quick second. "Ya know?"

"Oh, I know." She chuckled. "A friend with benefits."

You laughed and swatted at her. "Cut it out."

"Just let me know what color bridesmaid dress I should wear."

You rolled your eyes with a grin and the two of you had another laugh.

The sign for the tavern came into view by the road side and you pulled into the parking lot, allowing your car to merge in with all the others. You both reached for your purses in the back seat and then headed toward the door that led inside.

On your walk up you heard someone call out your name and turned to see the man in the plastic scarecrow mask. Joel. Seeing him there alleviated any anxiety that lingered on the chance of him not showing up. He *had* showed up, and you knew how big of a step that was for him.

"Hey!" You greeted him with a hug and he partially lifted the mask as your roommate began to introduce herself. A moment later, the three of you were walking inside, welcomed by the beat of the old time seasonal song, Midnight Monsters Hop.

"I'm gunna go get a drink," Chrissy shouted, using her thumb to motion toward the bar that was overflowing with ghouls, ghosts and everything in between.

"Okay." You gave a thumbs up and looked to Joel. "Want a drink?"

He nodded, "Yeah, sure."

You reached back behind you for his hand and felt that similar electricity from before when he took it.

Up at the bar you flagged down the bartender.

"I'll do a vodka soda and.."

"A Bud Lite," Joel added, reaching into his wallet. Like his habit at the coffee shop, he paid with cash despite your attempts to try to pay for the round.

You looked at one another and without saying a word, you tapped your glasses together and then took a sip from your drinks. Joel hesitantly lifted his mask partway. You felt so bad for his inability to be free.

When another old Halloween song came on by The Dead Kennedys, you pulled Joel with you into a crowd of people who had begun to dance along to the rock music.

The beat was fast and upbeat. Without thinking you shoved Joel playfully with a grin with one hand to his chest and then closed the gap again and began to dance right next to him.

A moment later he was following your lead. He was having fun. You were having fun. The dim lighting in the bar was intersected by strobes of oranges, greens and purples, highlighting your every move.

When Joel really began to relax you could see it in his body language. He was dancing around, grabbing your hand to twirl you and being less cautious about lifting his mask to take a sip from his beer.

The rock music never seemed to let up. You needed a break from dancing as sweat began to make your face glisten. You eyed an old photobooth in the back corner of the bar and reached for Joel's free hand again, towing him with you.

When you pushed your way through a pale, white curtain you pulled him down into a seated position beside you and inserted a five dollar bill into the money slot beneath the camera screen.

With the first 3-2-1 countdown on the screen, you both kept your masks on and you stuck out your tongue. For the second photo, Joel lifted his mask so it sat on the top of his head and he managed a half smile. For picture number three, Jessie came out of nowhere, leaping into the booth for a photobomb and then exiting just as quickly.

You were laughing. Joel was laughing. You were both genuinely enjoying the night. Seconds later, the pictures developed and you took a copy while handing one over to Joel.

He kept his mask up as you pulled him back out into the bar where you resumed dancing. The energy was fiery. You loved every minute of it. More so, you loved seeing Joel at ease and having fun. Prior to recently you had never even seen him smile.

That night, in the freaky, flashing strobe lights, things felt perfect - as perfect as they had felt on the back of Joel's bike a few hours earlier. You knew this was manifesting into one of those nights - the type of night you looked back on that was on the border of magical, at least the type of magical that existed in real life.

It was everything. The music, the lighting, the look on Joel's face as his eyes found yours and never left. You were two giddy children that night and it felt so damn good. Never in a million years did you think you'd be able to get him out of his shell.

A break in the song left the two of you breathing heavy with smiles.

"Want another drink?" He shouted.

"Sure." You smiled, and a ringing stuck in your ears with the brief absence of loud music. The next song quickly picked up and Joel smiled, squeezed your hand and then made his way through the crowd.

"Another round, please," you heard him order.

Your eyes were on him as he stood there by the bar. You still smiled. He was contagious; perhaps the definition of a diamond in the rough. Joel Miller was.. dreamy.

"Hey killer." A voice interrupted your temporary euphoria. It wasn't directed at you. It was directed at Joel. Your daydream was suddenly interrupted when you saw a man approach him as he waited for your drinks. "You're in here dancing and having a good time. Where's Johnny? Hmm?" The guy shoved him now and you ran to Joel's defense.

"Enough!" The bartender scolded but the guy went on.

"You kill a local legend and you think you can just move on?" The guy shouted.

"Stop!" You intervened, standing with Joel as others began to turn in your direction.

"Oh, you even got a girl, that's great," mocked the stranger. "You know what Johnny's girl does on and off every week? She cries. Because you killed him!"

Joel tossed a twenty on the bar, left the drinks and stormed out of the establishment. You chased after him, bursting outside and shouted his name when a car whizzed by and almost hit him on the Main Street road.

"Joel!" You shouted and hurried the rest of the way to him. "Joel, stop!"

"I can't do this!" He shouted, "You just don't get it!"

"I know." You shook your head. "Joel, I'm sorry."

"I'm not your little fucking project," Joel went on.

"I know that, Joel." You shook your head, feeling the first sting of tears in your eyes. "I just.. I like you. I was having fun with you."

"I don't belong here. Not in this town. Not anymore! Nothing is going to change that."

"It's not fair," you went on, "I know-"

"You don't know anything!" He waved his hands wildly to the sides. "You don't know how I feel every single day."

"I know I don't," you agreed, "But I want to be here for you. I want to help you. Be your friend."

"What and relive this shit show of a night almost daily with me?" He made a face and shook his head.

"This night hasn't been a shit show," you argued. "Up until two seconds ago this was one of the enjoyable nights I can remember. It started back at the junk yard and on the bike-"

"Well, I'm glad I could give you a thrill ride," Joel said in a snarky fashion that cut you a little deep.

"Joel.." you shook your head. "I enjoy your company." You extended both of your arms in his direction with your palms up.

He looked at them but distanced himself further back a few steps. "Just.. go back to your normal life and stay away from me."

He scoffed turned away from you, storming off into the darkness as you still held your arms out in front of you. Despite having just formally met him, a single tear left each of your eyes.

"Joel!" You called. "Joel, please.."

He didn't turn back around. It broke off a piece of your heart when he disappeared around the corner of the building without so much as looking back.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 4

@untamedheart81 @amy172

[provokedgoalie]

this pic makes me unhinged

[kiss-theggoat]

The Boogeyman Pt. 1

Corey Cunningham x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You finally meet Corey, the guy who has been alienated from Haddonfield completely. You find out he isn’t so bad.

Warnings: none, fluffy for now

If you’d imagined that you’d be here right now, you would’ve taken infinitely better care of your poor old Toyota. Your lungs were screaming at you to stop, chest burning and you felt like you might cough up blood every single time you took a breath. The muscles in your thighs flexed and contracted in the most painful ways, and you could not for the life of you figure out how people rode bikes for fun.

You’d been riding uphill over the freeway for what felt like hours, cheeks flushed and mouth open to suck in breaths of cool fall air. Up ahead, you saw a familiar sign that gave you hope. Your salvation. A gas station you frequented where you knew that you’d be able to get water, a break, anything to help your aching bones.

You’d been without a car for a few weeks now and riding the bike this way hadn’t gotten easier. It was fine around your neighborhood but uphill to this side of town was brutal. You finally reached the downhill portion, a sigh of relief escaping you as you immediately felt yourself begin to catch your breath.

As you rode up towards the gas station, expecting a calm and easy visit like usual, excited to get your drink and maybe a few snacks, but the first thing you noticed was the yelling. It sounded like a group of kids were yelling, but you stared and could only see a line of teenagers, four or so of them standing around something. As you got closer, you saw the something.

A man sat on the ground, head down and cradling his hand next to his chest. You got a sinking feeling when you looked at him. Something was wrong. You rode up to the group of kids, finally hopping off of your bike and walking closer to inspect the scene. As you approached, you saw blood, lots of it, trickling down the man’s hand. Glasses, presumably his, were on the ground beside him, cracked and crooked. You found the source of the cut, a shattered bottle of chocolate milk a few feet behind him.

Another thing your proximity revealed was that those kids weren’t here to help him. They were the ones that caused it. You dropped your bike to the ground about ten feet behind them, causing them to turn around and face you. You usually weren’t one to confront people, but this felt different.

“Hey!” You shouted, walking towards them angrily. You had no intention of stopping, expecting them to move out of your way. You walked right down the middle of them, hitting two of their shoulders as you parted the group. The man looked up at you and you felt your breath hitch, momentarily yanked from your confident strut.

You immediately recognized him as Corey Cunningham. The man who was dubbed “The Babysitter Killer” and cast from the town completely. What you didn’t expect was for him to have such beautiful, big, brown puppy dog eyes that stared up at you like you were his lord and savior. His plump lips were slightly parted, and he sat up a little taller in your presence.

“Are…are you okay?” you asked softly, kneeling down in front of him. You were definitely flustered by how handsome and strong he looked, but the blood flowing from the gash in his hand forced you to focus.

“Aweeee! The psycho’s got a babysitter!” One of the kids yelled, laughing obnoxiously as if anything they just did was funny.

One of the other ones bumped their shoulders together. “Hey, let’s hope she kills him!” They all cackled and stared down at you both, glares full of judgment.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. From what you could remember, the case about the dead kid was dismissed. Ruled an accident. The way Corey was treated was unfair, but this was extreme. You decided to ignore it. That’s what you’d always been told, if you stop giving bullies a reaction, they stop having fun.

You smile at Corey, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Can I see your hand? I have some first aid stuff back at my house but it might need stitches.”

He looked at you, confusion evident on his pretty face. He was confused as to why you were even helping him. Why weren't you ridiculing him like everyone else? He slowly held his hand out to you, he could feel how deep the cut was and how the skin spread apart to make way for the blood, exposing tissue beneath. He knew he needed stitches, but he wanted you to take care of him instead.

He watched you wince. He felt your soft hands on his calloused one, gently holding it as if it were cracked porcelain. Corey didn’t care about his hand at that moment, in fact, he barely felt it. Instead, all he could focus on was the way that you immediately jumped in to help him. You touched him so gingerly, like you really cared if he was in pain or not. He hadn’t felt like this in years.

You stared into the wound, a little bit woozy from just how deep it was. “I’m sorry…you’ll probably need stitches. I don’t have a car.”

He spoke for the first time, voice soft but raspy with emotion. “Me either.”

“Is there someone I can call?”

He shook his head. You could call his mom, but he’d rather bleed out on the pavement than listen to her cry and gush over him for the next six hours.

“Okay…uhm…” you looked around, trying to find some sort of solution, but all you could think of was the pegs on your bike. “Do you think you’d be okay to stand on those? I can take you to the ER.”

Corey nodded quickly, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible. He was a little embarrassed that he was only riding his bike and didn’t have his motorcycle up and running yet, but if it meant he got to hold onto you, it was okay with him.

“Okay let’s go.” You held out a hand for him, which he gladly took. Blood didn’t make him woozy or anything, but he liked the fact that you seemed to want to help him, no matter the circumstance. You hopped on your bike and honestly, you were dreading having to ride over that hill to the ER with someone on the back but Corey needed your help, and he seemed really sweet. Poor guy deserved to have at least one person on his side.

You tried so hard to keep your huffing and puffing to a minimum, but obviously you failed.

“Don’t ride your bike much?” Corey asked with a small smile on his face, non injured hand placed on your shoulder to keep him steady.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “No.” You pant. “My car just recently broke down and I can't afford to get it fixed. So bike it is.”

“I can fix it.”

You turned back a little bit enough to see him in your peripheral vision. “You can?”

“Yeah, I work at a mechanic shop. I can see what’s wrong with it.”

“That’s not fair. I’d like to pay you for your work. Besides, if I hadn’t been riding my bike today, I wouldn’t have run into you, so I guess it’s a good thing.”

Corey smiled. You liked the fact you met him? His heart could burst. He liked how hard you were working just to get him help, when he knew it might be faster to just walk or ride himself to the ER. He couldn’t get off this bike, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

You felt like you’d been kissed by an angel when you finally pulled up to the ER and Corey hopped off the back of your bike. Your legs were aching and trembling, but you played it pretty cool. You watched him walk towards the doors, turning back to look at you. “Thank you. For bringing me.”

“No problem. I’ll wait for you, okay? I want to make sure you're okay.”

Corey could cry. No one other than his mom has shown him this much attention. “That’s okay. I can call someone to pick me up. Really, don’t worry about it.”

“What kind of chauffeur would I be if I didn’t offer a ride home?” You smiled, leaning your bike against the side of the ER. You wanted to make it clear you weren’t going anywhere. Corey heard you loud and clear, nodding with a small grin. He walked inside, not even caring about the sting in his palm.

Corey exited the ER, seven fresh stitches and some fancy gauze, but he couldn’t care less about any of that. All he could think about in there was you. Sitting out here on your bike, patiently waiting to ride home with him standing on your pegs even though you hated riding your bike. He found you leaning against the wall, staring up at the fading sunlight.

“Pretty sunset.” He said, mentally smacking himself upside the head. Pretty sunset? That’s all he says.

“Yeah. How’s your hand?” You asked, walking closer to him.

“It’s okay. They gave me some stitches and some of this numbing stuff. I can barely feel it.” He gave you that goofy smile of his, wiggling his fingers.

You laughed, nodding. “Good, cause we got quite a ride home. Where do you live, Corey?”

He could’ve combusted when you said his name. Your voice sounded so sweet and to hear his name on your lips was heaven. He stared at you for a moment before finally snapping out of it. “Oh. On first.”

You felt a weight off your shoulders. “Thank god. I live on the corner of first and elm. Let’s go.” You got on your bike and savored the weight of Corey standing on your pegs, even though you knew he’d make it harder to pedal. This time, he placed both hands on your shoulders and stared up at the sky as you began to pedal. The ride to his house wasn’t so difficult, no crazy hills or anything.

You rolled into his driveway and placed a foot onto the concrete. “Home sweet home.”

Corey hopped off your bike, but stayed beside you. You looked up at him. You realized now, even more so than before, how pretty he was. His beautiful, silky brown curls with just a hint of blue light from the sky on them. His brown puppy dog eyes are accentuated by the glasses with a cute clumsy crack in the corner. Plump lips outlined by a faint dusting of five o'clock shadow. Everything about him seemed perfect, and that was just his face, not to mention his large hands, broad shoulders, muscular thighs. You wondered why the hell you’d never approached him before.

You stared at one another for a moment before he finally spoke up. “I really want to work on your car. Consider it payment for making you haul me around on your bike.”

“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to.”

He rolled his eyes a little, that boyish smile gracing his face. “Okay well…consider it a favor then.”

You bit your lip a little bit. You needed to be bold. You really liked Corey, even though you’d only known him for a short time. As you toyed with the rubber on your bike handle, you decided to just go for it. “Consider it a date then.”

The expression on Corey’s face could only be described as flabbergasted. His mouth opened a few times but nothing came out. You began to get nervous. Did you come on too strong? Did you misread the situation? What if he was genuinely just trying to be kind and you went ahead and made it all awkward by being-

“Okay…a date…” Corey stuttered out, cheeks pink and eyes focused on you.

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “Okay! Uhm…when do you think you’ll be okay to work…y’know…because of your hand?”

He looked down at the wrapped appendage and suddenly wanted to strangle every single person who’d ever bullied him before. Yes, the broken glass is how he’d met you. But this is going to keep him from being able to work on your car. I.e, keep him from your date.

“Maybe we will take a rain check on your car…I’m sorry.”

“That's okay! We can have a movie night or something instead. My house, tomorrow.” You said, feet already on your pedals. “Grey house on the corner!” You reminded him. “8 o'clock!”

He laughed as he watched you ride away, finally with some enthusiasm. His heart was so full. He couldn’t believe that you’d asked him out first and that you wanted him to come over. As he began to walk into his own house, cheeks red and aching from his grin, he realized that he’ll have to work through the pain anyways. There’s absolutely no way that he’s going to your house on his bike. He needs his motorcycle fixed, ASAP.

[phntmeii]

Slashers and Hanahaki Disease

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies.

Characters: Poly!Ghostface(Billy Loomis, Stu Macher), PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Hannibal Lecter(TV Ver.), Jason Voorhees, RZ!Michael Myers

General Warnings: Mainly fluffy w/ happy endings, Mentions of death, Mentions of vomiting/gagging

A/N: Half the listed characters will have Hanahaki disease while the other half the reader has Hanahaki disease. Some other notes, I sped up how quickly Hanahaki affects people to a few weeks at max and included what type of flower I think would best fit in these situations :) Most are related to heartbreak, loss, death/rebirth, unrequited love.

Poly!Ghostface - Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

Flower Type: Purple Hyacinth

You had taken some days off of class, feeling too sick to go. Your parents didn’t believe you but you looked the definition of ill.

And heartbreak was just the cherry on top for you. Whether you had feelings for Billy or for Stu was already confusing but on top of that, you felt like you weren’t either of their types.

You had seen the people they went out with over the years and you were just never like them. Your own love life was failure after failure but it's not like they were offering themselves up in their place.

You were just the bestfriend in your mind. That’s all. And soon enough, violet petals were being thrown up into the toilet bowl every few hours and you could feel your lungs filling, getting hard to breathe over time.

Both Billy and Stu thought it was weird you skipped class. You’d at least give a heads up beforehand. Billy was more worried than Stu was.

He visited through your window at night to check in on you just to catch you in a pile of violet flowers across your bed covers while you laid there, casually watching a movie while you occasionally coughed some more up.

“What the fuck is that? Are you okay? Me and Stu thought you up and died.”

Looking over, you gave a weak smile in response. “Feels like I am.”

Soon you heard some clanging from the window Billy came in from and found Stu stumbling in, nearly knocking some things down before he hopped back up.

Stu gave a goofy smile as he held up some bottles before Billy looked at him with unamused eyes and snatched the bottles out of his hands as if to say, “Not now.”

Sitting down with you, asking what was wrong. You tried to explain but it sounded so silly. Throwing up flowers? And for seemingly no reason.

“Well… There’s diseases that are caused by stress? You think it’s something like that? Come on. You’ve been acting like shit for the past few weeks.”

You sat there between them and could think of one main thing but… How stupid that sounded. You didn’t want to say it.

Stu shook your shoulders playfully before getting smacked in the back of the head by Billy. “Come on! Tell us! What’s so embarrassing~?”

You sighed and reluctantly explained. You had a crush on them—your bestfriends—and you were definitely not their type. You were completely embarrassed, covering your mouth as you coughed up a few more violet petals.

Billy and Stu stared at each other after you said that, as if silently communicating to one another. Billy slowly smirked while Stu started laughing and wrapped his arms around you from the side.

“Seriously?! Holy shit, dude! You seriously haven’t noticed we were totally into you too?!”

You couldn’t even process what Stu said with how tight he squeezed you with his hug. By the time you finally noticed, you were once again distracted when you felt two different hands holding your jaw as Billy leaned in from one side while Stu leaned in the other and kissed your cheeks.

“ We’ve been into you forever…” Those small words felt like they made room within your lungs again.

PreMichael!Corey Cunningham

Flower Type: Red Salvia

Corey had met you in passing and you didn’t mind becoming friends with him. He was an awkward nerd and it was a trait you found charming to be friends with.

But to Corey, it was hell when he discovered the petals that soon formed and flew out of his mouth.

He had developed a crush on you immediately when he met you. You were simultaneously his heaven and hell. Someone so nice to him and yet the reason he found it harder and harder to breathe.

He avoided you for a week or so. He was so used to self-isolating himself when something went wrong. Deal with it himself as he always did.

Corey figured it was connected to you. It started the day after he felt those feelings rise in him. To make sure, he visited the doctor’s and found the term: Hanahaki Disease. And it was because of you.

He didn’t want to say anything about it. His fate was sealed in his eyes. But… maybe?

He decided to send a text to meet up. Better to talk about it in person even if it made him nervous to.

“Hey… I- I really didn’t want to y’know bother you or anything-“ “Corey, you don’t bother me. It’s alright. What is it?”

Corey shyly looked down and smiled to himself. God, it hurt to think that you wouldn’t like him. You were so perfect for him.

“I know this is gonna sound weird and if I'm honest I thought it was weird too. I-I’m… dying. From uh… Not having requited love...” As if on queue, he coughed, revealing red petals flying out of his mouth to the ground.

You were obviously immediately worried. To hear such heavy words from Corey made your heart drop. You had to ask who. Maybe he could still convince them to share the same feelings.

Corey scratched the back of his head, looking away. He didn’t want to say it. Especially since he didn’t want to leave you with the news that it was because of you that he had an expiration date coming soon.

“It’s… you. It’s always been you.”

A few whole Red Salvia flowers came out of his mouth after the confession. He grew increasingly embarrassed, wanting to take back his words already. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Just let his life take its course and end quick without you knowing.

But then, those moments of silence were interrupted by you approaching and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips were slightly chapped from nerves and his overthinking made him think he should’ve done something about them sooner but he was more focused on how soft you felt. His heart swelled at the touch while his hands went to your cheeks, deepening the kiss further out of pure need.

Hannibal Lecter

Flower Type: Red Spider Lily

Hannibal was not one to ever be sick. It rarely happened, if ever. He took care of his health perfectly.

When he started to feel himself grow ill, he immediately knew something was wrong. Coughing was one thing but it was a completely different thing to find himself feeling the urge to vomit and finding flowers fly out of his mouth.

Staring at the red flowers in the toilet bowl, he already knew it wasn’t something normal. In fact, he already knew what it was.

The knowledgeable man he was, Hanahaki was a term that came to mind but with a sense of confusion.

He didn’t necessarily care for people like others did. His “care” for other people was a mask of feigned empathy. Not real.

But if he had this disease, something was different. And it was love of all things? It complicated everything.

There was only one person that came to mind that could possibly fit the supposed feeling he felt: You. His patient.

He kept it hidden still. Suffering in silence because falling in love was not something he was interested in. It would cloud his emotions.

And yet, he began asking about your love life during your sessions. Previous relationships, expectations of love, etc. A collection of information to mold himself into what you wanted.

He invited you over for dinners more and presented you with flowers each session. Each bouquet with meaning and cleanly composed together.

You were his muse. The focus of his musical compositions and the focus of his sketches when he had free time.

His eyes even sparkled softly toward you sometimes if you looked close enough.

But Hannibal knew his days were numbered and he had to say something before the flowers filled his lungs and killed him.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it. His vomiting became more frequent and he could feel how difficult it was to breathe.

After one of your dinners with him and he was walking you to the door, he stopped you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he gently tilted your face to look at him.

“My dear… Please indulge me in my desire for you. It’s grown insatiable.”

He started to lean in toward your lips. He’d memorized the shape a thousand times over through his sketches by now. Each quick line put to paper was a written wish to feel them on his own. “I’ll grow mad without knowing what you taste like.”

His eyes met yours when he was centimeters away from your lips, breath mixing into one another’s. “Tell me you wish the same.”

His eyes looked to you with a slight desperation to them. Once he received the confirmation, that soft whisper of a “Yes…”, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and felt like life had been breathed into him.

Jason Voorhees

Flower Type: Lily of the Valley

Jason hadn't thought about romance much in his life, not thinking he'd be fortunate to experience it. He thought he had a face only his mother could love after all.

Finding you, you were never mean to him. If anything, you were solely kind to him and he was happy at the treatment.

Then worry set in when he noticed you weren't coming to the cabin as often. You usually visited and left some meals for him and candles to dedicate to his mother.

He worried heavily. Jason automatically believed he was in the wrong. Maybe he had scared you or had done something wrong. He was never good at social cues or interacting with people.

He sat there, waiting for you to come back. You wouldn't completely leave right? Or maybe something happened to you? What if you were dead?

Jason could only find his worries settled when he heard footsteps and saw you again. He immediately rushed out and hugged you.

He signed, "Where have you been?? I was so worried!"

Jason noticed you seemed paler than normal and you looked exhausted. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

He didn't know how to take care of someone who was sick. His mother always took care of him. But he was willing to try.

"I... Yeah. I'm sick, Jason. I've been sick for a week or so now. Vomiting and all."

You couldn't see his expression but he was certainly concerned. He placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take care of you."

Whether you wanted to or not, Jason was already dragging you inside and sitting you down. He didn't know how to help, only that he wanted to help.

That's when you coughed and small white petals flew out of your mouth and into your lap. Jason tilted his head at that. Flowers? He had never heard of someone coughing up flowers before.

Jason forcibly kept you in the cabin until you could get better. You were his only friend. The only one who treated him like a person. He didn't want to lose that.

Few days pass and nothing. Petals had become full flowers with stems needing to be yanked out. You gagged each time you had to rip out the flower by its stem.

You thought you might die. A sickness you had never heard of along with it getting quickly worse? You couldn't help but recognize where this was going.

You laid beside Jason at night. He was attached to the hip with you in your stay. You figured now was a better time than never saying it at all.

You took his hand into yours, something that made Jason give you his full attention. "Jason. I just wanted you to know that... I love you. I need you to know that."

Jason could feel his heart jolt at that confession. It was said in a more sad tone than a happy one but all the same, it was the words said that mattered. "Do you mean it? Are you sure?"

Nodding your head with a weak smile, you placed a kiss on the cheek of his mask. Jason could feel his face heat up at that. No one had ever treated him like that before.

He grabbed your hands, maybe a bit too strong in his grasp, as he signed rapidly in excitement. "I love you too. You're the only one who likes me. I want you to stay. Please."

You felt slight pain in your lungs as the stems that had begun taking root in them slowly retracted and dissipated. He was your cure.

RZ!Michael Myers

Flower Type: White Rose

Michael had inhabited your home for some time. He needed a home base to return to when he wasn’t stalking for victims.

You couldn’t say much against it, fearing you’d be next. And he wasn’t the worst guest?

Besides blood needing to be cleaned, he was silent. You could barely even notice him there if it wasn’t for his giant size.

Over time, you noticed how he grew closer to you. Literally. He loomed over you while you cooked or cleaned. You’d get jumpscared by how you’d turn a corner and see him standing there. He also started preventing you from leaving if he was there.

Michael would stand in front of the door, staring you down until you understood to stay home. Seeing you listen, he gave the most affection he’d ever show: patting your head.

And you grew an odd attachment to him. You’d worry if he was out for too long and worried if he ever came back injured.

You two were attached. In what way, you couldn’t answer that question but you didn’t mind being close to him. Even if he never showed affection or attachment, you knew he felt something. Otherwise, you would’ve been dead already.

Michael never spoke nor gave indication of what he was feeling ever. You could only ever notice the extremes. And when you noticed Michael in his room for longer than normal, you wanted to help even if he always pushed you away.

You knocked but no answer. Knocked twice and still nothing. You took that as a “no entry” and sadly turned away.

Right as you did, the door opened and Michael looked to you with his same deadpan stare you always knew. His hands littered with white rose petals. You didn’t understand until he coughed again, more petals coming out.

You didn’t know how to react to it other than to grow concerned. His hands dropped the petals and grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them. His eyes looked to you and for the first time, there was a slight hint of fear there.

It was odd to see such a large man who had survived hell and back to show fear now. You guided him to the couch, wanting him to feel comfortable.

You grabbed his hand, forgetting how he was a murderer, forgetting how his hands were responsible for the deaths of so many. “Michael…”

He exhaled in response, looking at you through the strands of hair covering his face. He forcibly grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. Ending up in his lap, he held onto you, still silently staring. He buried his head in your chest, squeezing you tight. He didn’t want to let go.

You let your arms hold him to you, caressing the back of his head. You placed a small kiss to the top of his head.

“Michael… It’s okay. I’m here.”

Michael couldn’t take finally having an affectionate touch after so long. Restraint was something he never knew and letting himself have an ounce of it was like opening Pandora’s box. He pulled away and slammed his lips into yours. He pushed you down on the couch, placing his hands on either side of your face, trapping you there.

And yet, you didn’t deny him. You matched his desperate, sloppy kiss. And Michael could feel the air in his lungs return only to be immediately used from his kissing and grunting. And you knew where this was going when you felt his slight runting against your leg.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[toxicanonymity]

What will happen if Corey finds out that Y/N is a cam girl? 👀👀

Let's say he's admiring her from afar, like she works at the grocery store or something. I bet he would spend all his money connecting with her and getting private videos and chats. He doesn't use video on his end, but he has the sexiest voice ever, so he has that going for him. Low and gruff, "God, you get me so ha(r)d". He would start stalking her and learn her routine. He would work that knowledge into his cam girl chats with her, making her think they have stuff in common. And then one day, he would finally approach her but not say anything to reveal himself. His VOICE, however - that deep, sexy voice - she recognizes it right away. He reads her facial expression - if she's flustered in a good way, he acts the same when he pretends to suddenly recognize her. He pretends to be embarrassed. Asks if he can take her out some time. And this is how they start dating.

If they're already dating when he finds out, he doesn't use video or audio on the cam girl site. He screen records so he can re-watch later. He jacks off so much it fucks him up, and he spends all his money on her -- little does she know. So his obsession financially messes up his ability to take her out on dates AND physically messes up his IRL sex. He tries to get her to talk all sexy and she's uncomfortable. He gets aggressive, making her even more uncomfortable. Meanwhile, on the cam girl site, he'd coax her into sharing about her kinks, assuming they're legit, but she doesn't share her real ones. So when he tries stuff in the bedroom it's totally weird. Ultimately he ruins everything.

@wolvesandvampires @rebel-blue @ethanhoewke

[loveandmurders]

The beginning of a love story IV (Corey Cunninghman x f!reader)

Hello everyone! This is the last part I’ve written for this little series about Corey falling in love with reader. You can find the first part here. 

If you want more of this, don’t hesitate to send me a little request. I really enjoyed writing for Corey so I hope you’ll enjoy reading this as well <3

Warnings: Corey being bullied and burt by this group of teens, reader is worried, mentions of violence, bruises and blood, mention of Corey’s abusive mother.

Fight back. Corey kept thinking about it as he was walking back home. He didn't have his motorcycle that night because some assholes cut the brakes and he needed to fix it before being able to use it again. And he always refused to borrow your car. You needed it.

He wondered if he would be able to fight back, like you told him to do. He had never been able to hurt anyone before, and after the accident with the child… He couldn’t stand the idea of doing something bad. But he also knew he needed to do something about the situation. Now you were in his life, he needed things to change. He wanted to go out with you, and not to force you to patch him up everyday, and to defend him against townspeople. He heard that Willy the Kid told everyone that there was some news in “psycho pedo’s life”: he now had a girlfriend, and that she needed to be protected or interned in an asylum. Corey had refused to hear more of it, but he was worrying that it would drive you away from town, away from him. He needed to find a way.

His trail of thoughts was suddenly stopped by voices calling for him. He tried to walk faster, knowing what was going to happen. He looked back and saw a car with this group of teens who really didn’t want to let him go. He was a little bit ashamed to let younger people bully him, but they were outnumbering him and he really didn’t want to fight. He just wanted them to leave him alone. He so wished he could have stayed in your home now. If his mother wasn’t overbearing, he would still be on your couch, cuddling with you. 

Fight back. Those words never stopped resonating inside of him as they insulted him, as they broke his glasses, as he was being beaten up, as he was pushed around.

Fight back. He told himself, as he was falling off the bridge. And then it was only darkness. He didn’t even feel the masked man grabbing his ankle and bringing him inside the sewers.

Fight back. It was his first thought when he finally opened his eyes, even if he had no idea where he was. 

Things were about to change.

Your alarm woke you up and you stopped it, with a frown on your face. You were pretty certain you didn’t receive a message from Corey last night, because you didn’t remember hearing the notification. Or you hoped you didn’t hear it. You grabbed your phone and the absence of a message instantly worried you. You called Corey, thinking that maybe he fell asleep before being able to message you. It would have been strange, but maybe he was tired. 

He didn’t answer, even though he always did when it was you, even when he was in front of his mom. You tried to feel better by telling yourself that maybe his mother confiscated his phone from him, because she was fed up with you.

You had a very bad feeling. 

But you needed to go to work. You prepared yourself and in the middle of your breakfast, you called Ronald. You had his working phone and you thought he probably already was there.

“Yeah?” he answered and you hoped he would know where Corey was

“Hey, Ronald, it’s Y/N.” you said

“Ah Y/N! My wife was cursing you last night, keeping her boy like that…” he gently teased and you thought you were going to be sick.

“Corey didn’t come back home?” you asked, and Ronald heard the concern lacing your voice

“He didn’t stay with you?” he asked back

“No, he left around midnight, or maybe a little bit later. He usually sends me a message to let me know when he comes back home, but he didn’t so I was worried…” you trailed off

“He didn’t come back last night. Look, if he arrives at work, I’ll let you know. And if we don’t have news, we’ll go to the police station together tonight” he promised. You thanked him and went to work with an awful feeling that never left you for the whole day.

You realised how much you loved the boy and how much you just wanted him to be fine. You would even agree to leave town, even though you enjoyed your house, if it meant keeping Corey safe from this place and people.

You had a very awful day. Work has been absolutely shit to you and you have checked your phone all the time and didn’t get any new messages from Corey. You wanted more than anything to call at his home to ask his mother if she had seen him, but you knew she would be a real bitch to you, so you didn’t. You were about to leave work when Ronald called you. You never answered your phone so fast in your whole life. You hoped the man had good news for you.

“Hey Y/N”

“How’s Corey? Did you find him?” you asked and Ronald smiled to himself; he was happy that someone cared so much about the boy.

“Came back home, covered in bruises, but he’s fine. Told him you were worried sick.” But you felt Ronald didn’t tell you everything.

“Anything else? Did he say if he was coming to my place tonight?”

“He always does, Y/N.” he stayed silent for a few instant “The boy is quiet. Don’t know what happened, but I hope you’ll be able to make him feel better” 

You silently promised you would.

When Corey knocked at your front door with a plushie in his hands, you just rushed to him and gave him a big hug. You thought you were going to cry of relief as you had been so worried about him. You felt him melt against you and his embrace was tight.

“Hey” he whispered before giving you the little teddy bear he brought you

“Hey” you weakly smiled as you hugged the bear against your heart. You were carefully watching his face, frowning at all the bruises and cuts. 

You realised you were still on your porch, so you brought him inside and started to check on him. Your hands were all over him and he silently let you do, observing you with a new intensity. You could tell something was different. He indeed was very quiet. You also noticed he didn’t have glasses anymore. 

“I’m fine” he finally said as he grabbed your hands in his, but it wasn’t enough for you. “You were worried?” he asked with a little tilt of the head and you watched him in pure bewilderment

“If I was worried? Corey, I was ready to go to the police station with Ronald! I thought something awful happened to you. I was going crazy ! Where were you? You should have stayed at my place. I should have made you stay” you whimpered, tearing up. You couldn’t imagine what happened to your boy. He gently shushed you and cupped your face before stroking his nose against yours. The sudden proximity grounded you.

“Corey?” you whispered.

His only answer was pressing his lips against yours.

You froze in surprise. It was such a bold move coming from your shy boy but you enjoyed how clear his feelings for you were in the instant. He waited for you to reject him or to answer the kiss. He wouldn’t force anything; he needed you to desire him as much as he desired you. When you wrapped your arms around his waist and moved closer to kiss him, he grew more passionate. He softly pressed you against the nearest wall to deepen the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of you, but after a little while you gently pushed him away.

“What was that?” you whispered

“I want to be happy, and you’re the only thing that makes me happy. You’re the only person who truly cares about me. I’ll stay here tonight, if you have me” he told you and you watched him without understanding what was going on

“I’d be more than happy to have you here all night. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about you. But what about your mom?” you asked

“She slapped me earlier, because she was worried about where I have been.” he told you and you frowned. You reached for his face and softly stroked his cheeks. He leaned into your touch and kissed the palm of your hands. “But when you are worried about me, you are tender and soft to me” he hummed in appreciation. “You’re good to me” he continued as he leaned for another kiss. 

You had never thought he would pick you over his mother, but you were happy he did. You hoped that things were finally going to be good for the two of you, even if you were still wondering what happened to him.

“Alright, okay. I’ve no idea what happened Corey, but I’m glad you’re staying” you said, a bit lost, but you thought you needed to take care of him first. “How about you let me patch you up while you tell me what happened? And then we find something to eat and we’ll go to bed. How does it sound?” you offered and he tenderly smiled at you.

“Sounds like a plan” he agreed. “Actually, we could go out to eat somewhere” he added and you watched him in surprise

“Are you sure about that?” you asked

“Of course I am, I’m not scared of people anymore” he replied. You reached for his curls and softly hugged him before guiding him to your bathroom. You were really confused, but you thought it was best to not push Corey. 

You took care of his injuries, and you could tell by the huge bruise on his back, that he fell hard from a high place. 

“Shouldn’t we go to the hospital, Corey?” you asked but he shook his head. 

“I’m fine” he simply said again as he enjoyed your touch on his skin.

“What happened to your glasses?” you continued

“They fell and broke. But it’s fine” he replied

“You really don’t want to tell me what happened?” you insisted as you finished to put cream on his bruises and to clean up his cuts. 

He took your hands in his and brought you on his lap. He hugged you and placed his head on your chest. You softly stroked his hair and played with his curls. Something was really different about Corey, but at the same time you could tell it was still your Corey. He was still tender with you, and loving. He was just bolder and doing what he truly wanted to, while still being careful to your wants and boundaries.

“I just met someone and I’m starting to understand things” he finally whispered to you. You hated how you felt a little spark of jealousy raising inside your chest, so you stayed silent for a few instants.

“Who?” you finally asked

“Someone” he repeated

“How about we go eat now?” you asked as you were starting to grow annoyed, and he nodded, but he didn’t let you go from his embrace that quickly. He savoured the feel of you in his arms for a little longer before getting up.

As you drove to a nice little restaurant, you couldn’t stop wondering what happened to your boy. There was something about him. You couldn’t tell what though. But your guts were still very quiet about him, so you weren’t afraid of him.

“How was your day?” he asked you once you were settling at the table

“Between you being gone, the radio guy talking about me being insane and my boss trying to flirt with me, not the greatest” you sighed. You noticed how Corey instantly tensed up.

“What happened with your boss? Did he make you feel uncomfortable? Did he touch you?” he instantly asked, and there was a new protectiveness shining in his eyes. You had never seen him looking like such a guard dog before. You couldn’t deny how hot it was. 

“He touched my shoulder, yeah, and he couldn’t stop talking about my body. I was already quite upset today, so it didn’t help. But it’s alright, it’s not the first guy to act like that, and he won’t probably be the last. I’ll try my best to avoid him from now on.” you explained but it didn’t seem to appease Corey.

“I’m sorry about that.” he told you and you gently smiled at him

“You have nothing to apologise for, silly” you told him and he kissed the back of your hand, his eyes plunged inside of yours. You even missed the way the people around the two of you were looking at you.

A man came closer to you and you almost jumped when you realised he was there.

“Everything is all good here?” he asked you. 

He was wearing a police uniform. You didn’t understand what he was talking about but he was only staring at you.

“Hmm, yes, why?” you replied with an arched eyebrow.

The man came closer to you and he whispered into your ear:

“Be careful with that boy, okay?” he said and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, Corey standing up and putting a hand on the cop’s shoulder.

“Thank you for your concern, sir. But we’re all good.” he said in an icy voice you have never heard from him before. The cop sent him a surprise glance before frowning.

“Don’t touch me, kid” he told him and Corey removed his hand with a little cheeky smile.

“Can you step away from her then?” Corey said as he moved in front of you. 

The cop sent you another glance, he gave you his card, before leaving. Corey turned back to you.

“If you’re done eating, maybe we should go back home” you offered “I’m quite tired after today, and you also need to rest” you added and Corey nodded.

He paid for the meal and you drove back home. You stayed silent and Corey hoped he didn’t do anything that annoyed you. You, on the other hand, kept thinking about the person Corey met last night, after having been hurt. You weren’t even certain Corey was officially your boyfriend despite all the kisses and protectiveness. You didn’t have the strength to ask him that night, though, too exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions of the day.

You quickly fell asleep on the couch with him watching over you like you were the most beautiful angel he ever witnessed, and he smiled down at you, gently stroking your skin.

You missed when he softly got up, careful to not wake you up, and left your house, in the middle of the night.

But you didn’t miss the news that your boss has been found dead with his wife, and that a police officer was also reported missing.

[screamiac]

Just so everyone knows because I haven't been clear with it lol, I take requests!! Currently not for fics but for like little drabbles and like, headcanons, so feel free to send in ur lil thoughts, they can be nsfw or sfw, it doesn't matter, and I might elaborate on them !! <3

[slash-me-please]

I just wanna ask, if your requests are still open! Can you do a Corey Cunningham x female!reader? Where the reader had a bad day, coming home to Corey crying then he helps by fucking her stupid. <3

The feminine urge to insert a daddy kink into this was strong but i held out. (Also I got my own place today, currently have an empty apartment w no furniture yippee) But anywayssss I LOVE COREY hes so quiet and baby. Also i left an opening for maybe a p2??? Maybe I can tie a request into it? I have another Corey request so i was thinking about it.

anyways heres some smut.

De-Stress

Warnings: Smut, needy!reader, overstimulation, dumbification, dirty talk, me not picking a pov,

Bronze keys jingled in your hand as you yanked at your shabby, wooden door. Today had been hell, and now you couldn't get your door open. You pressed forwards with a grunt, jiggling your key into the hole- only for it to break off. You looked down at the broken key fob, lips in a thin line before you felt tears drop down your face. It had been a long day and that was the breaking point for you, but it didn't take long for Corey to open the front door and look at you confused.

"What happened Y/N?" But that made your tears come harder, your arms coming to close yourself in. Corey's eyebrows pressed tight together, though not before his arms were wrapped around you. "Did someone do this to you?" He questioned, you shook your head no, hands coming up to feel up his back.

Corey was still in his work uniform, covered in grease and dirt, he was a hardworking man. The two of you had pretty much the same work schedule, so he had probably just gotten home when you arrived behind him. You tugged at his coveralls, sniffling. "I just had a rough day at work... I slipped and hit my head, but I still had to work all swollen and it hurt." You whined, burying your face into his shoulder. "And then I messed up an entire document and I had to list sales and inventory again," He held you closer, hand reaching to push your hair back and examine the bright purple bruise on your forehead. He winces and gives you a kiss. "That looks painful." He states. You nod.

Then he pulls back, a small smile on his face when you whine. "Do you want me to make you some food?" He asks, eyes narrowing when you begin to unzip his coveralls instead. "No... Can you just make me feel better?"

-

And that's how you ended up in bed, he had you completely naked and bent into a mating press, while he himself only unzipped his coveralls to take his cock out. Corey was bent over you, this had to have been the fourth time you came. Your eyes rolled back and you cried, mumbling something to yourself as he thrusted into your wet sex. Corey peppered kisses along your jaw, though you were already covered in love bites.

"Did my baby have a bad day?" You squeeze your eyes shut, gasping when he thrusted faster. "Do you need me... to make it better?" He grunts and your heat squeezes him this time, back arching as you give him a cry. You try to give him an answer, but it seems you cannot when it releases as a weak whine of his name. "Such a good girl, is this what makes you happy?" His chest rumbles and his eyes almost look black. "All you need is my cock deep inside of you to make you quit your crying? Couldn't even wait till I showered?"

Your legs shake against his hands, pussy taking him with a squelch as he pummels against you. Your chest feels light and airy when he speaks to you- and you cannot count the butterflies in your stomach. You lean back a little, fingers grabbing onto your sheets when it becomes too much to handle. Corey taunts you in a lovely way, hips still moving against yours when he drops your left leg to wrap that hand around your throat. He feels darker now, chest purring with an incoming release.

Your mouth falls open and a silent whine bubbles from your throat as you push at his hips to get him away from your overstimulated sex. Corey is panting when he leans forward, hitting deeper and smiling when you moan loudly and push harder against his pelvis. "Please.." You cry repeatedly, unsure of what you're begging for as he pushes into you. "C'mon Y/N, can't even take what you asked for? I didn't think you were that stupid, baby. Don't even know your own limits?" His hand pressed deeper against your throat and your vision began to prickle with darkness, and one of your hands followed his. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist as you cried, other still pulling at the sheets.

"You're close?" He gasps, and you suck him deeper inside of you- weakly pushing against his biceps. He watches you nod, tears at the corners of your eyes and cheeks bright. "Then cum, pretty girl." You finally reach your end with these words, wincing and digging manicured nails into his shoulder when he shudders and curls over your orgasming form- just to fill you up. His groans rattle though your chest and you think you feel yourself floating.

His chest drops against yours, sweat against sweat as you feel yourself being lulled into a deep sleep. "Love you," You make sure to mumble into his ear before rolling into his chest to end the night. His fingers brush through your hair, head empty as he stares at the ceiling. He's thinking for a while, but your phone buzzing captures his attention. Corey decides to pick it up off the phone stand, and give it a look incase it's a parent.

Officer Mulaney (Boss): All of your documents are done improperly, when you arrive in the morning you'll redo them and I have some more for you. I would like them finished before the end of the day. I know you hit your head but it was off-site so I didn't bother to report it. We considered your request for time off and it cannot be completed at this time, your health issues are your concerns.

He feels that same darkness that Michael once taught him returning.