#dead by daylight suggestions

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut

♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect

> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed

> It was a lot even for a king bed

> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed

> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep

> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life

> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest

> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair

> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you

> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining

> “Baby…wake up…”

> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg

> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament

Micheal Myers

> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this

> You know he doesn’t cuddle

> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night

> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is

> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly

> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board

> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax

> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals

> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”

> He pauses.

> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.

> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving

> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.

> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.

> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek

> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..

Thomas Hewitt

> He’s almost nervous of the idea

> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning

> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-

> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries

> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical

> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask

> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him

>“Hold me?”

> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time

> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting

> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.

> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.

> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”

> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.

Bubba Sawyer

> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)

> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.

> You were wondering where those went

> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly

> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears

> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last

> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does

> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.

> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back

> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute

> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast

> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one

> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over

Vincent Sinclair

> Like some of the others he’s hesitant

> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room

> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps

> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax

> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is

> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress

> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn

> It’s your turn to pout down at him

> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby

> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave

> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning

[hugs-and-stabbies]

yall got me all back in my jayers feelings lol

[kiruyeen]

the entity's punishme- I mean gift :]]

danny just doesnt like eldritch or supernatural horror dont blame him

[transitcowboy]

What can I say, I like triangles

[ryeguns]

[starboardharpy]

Art WIP that I may never finish :')

AKA that one time I was thinking of TBP being in DBD

[daily-singularity]

Chill out

[handhelld]

Gabriel my beloved 🩵🧡

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | kisses!

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Black Christmas, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Billy Lenz

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content

♡ note; i hope to do a first meeting and kisses post for all ton of slashers, so let me know who else you wanna see! there’s already some i swapped out between the two posts just because of ideas i already had

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> this brat is always begging for kisses

> he’s not really one to physically initiate

> and it’s secretly because he loves when you follow his orders

> but he loves all kinds of kisses, and he’s usually content with more chaste ones

> when you do make out though, he is sloppy

> he’s still so touch starved and sensitive

> so it can go from just a long peck to him panting and huffing surprisingly quickly

> and he likes when you praise him for it

> he loves when you pin his hands while you kiss him, laying beneath you as you straddle his chest

> but he loves pawing at you almost as much- in the same position of course

> loves receiving marks

> especially hickies on his neck, like a dumb horny teen

Micheal Myers

> he’s not huge on kissing, or other non-sexual contact

> he’ll make you ask for it

> sometimes even beg

> and then he’ll roll up his mask and kiss you, rough and breathless

> he’s a biter, on your lips, neck, anywhere

> and the more you whine the more he marks you

> all that being said

> he loves when you kiss the mask

> you can swear you’ve heard him groan a bit from it before

> he’ll feel you up as you do too, making it hot and heavy despite how one sided the contact is

> he loves grabbing your throat, pushing you against the wall and kissing you so hard it stuns you

> sometimes to get what he wants, because he’s a malewife manipulator

> but sometimes because he loves the hazy eyed face you make as he pulls away

Thomas Hewitt

> oh my god loves when you kiss him

> forehead kisses, cheek kisses, kisses through the mask, kisses pressed to his jaw, etc etc

> hell you lean over and kiss his arm and he’s giddy- in his silent and almost unnoticeable way

> he loves kissing your neck in particular

> partially because he can hide- the insecurity is hard to shake

> but also because he loves coaxing pretty noises out of you

> freaks out when he leaves marks- but also loves the way you bruise after you reassure him it’s okay

> he loves when you lie on top of him, lazily kissing him between giggles

> it makes you seem so small (because gd, he’s 6’9 and built like a brick house), and he can grab your ass all he wants

Bubba Sawyer

> might be the Biggest Kiss Enjoyer out there

> he loves giving kisses all over!!!

> but especially loves peppering your face with kisses until you’re giggling too hard to let him continue

> he also loves getting kisses, because ofc

> he likes when you kiss his tummy, on top of everything else he can be insecure about his build

> and his hands- chances are y’all also have a huge size difference, and he’s always in awe of how little your cheek is in his hand. so he loves when you lean and kiss his palm

> his favorite kisses are when he picks you up and twirls you around

> and then he settles you in his arms and kisses you sweetly

> not too sexual but intimate

Billy Lenz

> this guy 🙄 in a word, frantic

> there is no peck on the lips with Billy Lenz

> whatever your intention, if you don’t pull away literally immediately, it’s getting dirty fast

> he’s all tongue and teeth and giggles

> like Brahms he’s incredibly pent up

> but baby boy is unintentionally (and sometimes intentionally) aggressive

> marks you up like it’s his job- hickies and bites and even sometimes bruises from holding your hips too hard because he’s stronger than he looks

> grabs your hair and tugs your head back to look at you and tell you how pretty you look and babble weird incoherent shit

> he loves you in his lap, facing him and practically grinding up on you as he lick lick licks your neck and any other skin he can between kisses

[hugs-and-stabbies]

The piece of art with Myers tied up to the tree and the lil spit trail absolutely does it for me I'm so obsessed with it LOL if you're ever in the mood for it I would love to see more/pay for more content to that degree!!

a bit under a year later but here you go heheh ♥♥ for those wondering, here's the original piece from a while back :) [x]

[softkillrbunni]

Late Reading

For the full NSFW version, please feel free to explore the socials depicted in the drawing. My commissions and art trades are open. See the pinned post for more info!

[saltymorde]

Because people of twitter spoke and actually said Kazan deserves a tail... So here you go uvu.

[saturnulysses]

[repost]

julie wants her own (un)fair share of the saboteur...!

[slaughtershrine]

can i get a crumb of doctor content pls…*shakes empty can* maybe something where he’s a little too enthused with reader? I’ll let you take the reins…<3

Cultivated Mind.

(The Doctor/Herman Carter x Reader)

Summary: You’ve suffered through the trial, every second struggling not to lose your focus. The Doctor's presence is a constant. Never leaving you even in your thoughts. You're losing your mind and all capability. It's all his fault. His relentless obsession ruins you, warping and cultivating your mind for his own pleasure. But his greed and desire builds, he needs more from you, he desires something more tangible, he needs to feel you break. Word-count: 1,445.

Warning(s): Suggestive descriptions. Mentions of Blood. Mentions of a Corpse. Mentions of Death. Mentions of Insanity. Mentions of Obsession.

Guttural, raspy screams and agonized cries echo through the halls of the dilapidated hospital. You can feel your pulse quicken as you shakily work on the generator, speeding up more and more for every second that ticks by in the trial. It feels like your blood is going to rush so fast you explode, the pressure building up and making every inch of your body stiff. There’s a tightening in your belly, not only can you feel your heart pounding, so violently it feels like it lies in your throat — but you can feel it, pumping harder and harder ready to drop out onto the base of your tongue.

It’s all his fault. The Doctor. He has always shown a keen interest in you, in the others as well of course — during trials, but none of them seem to be hunted down quite as relentlessly. He follows them during trials, shocking them until they lose their minds. But not you. It’s more than blood-thirst. He follows you, torments you, in and out of trials regardless. It isn’t an occasional feeling for you, you can't remember much, but you know for certain you recall a constant buzzing in the background, a sickening static that never stops. A suffocating presence that follows you everywhere. It’s terrifying.

It’s harder and harder to resist the thoughts of just giving up, letting him experiment and get what he wants from you until he’s finally finished. It would be easier, it would end quicker. It would be less scary. The endless stalking you're so sure happened, but can't recollect. The hundreds of questions with no answers, not knowing is what feels the worst. You don't know what he wants, and it’s agony waiting for the finale. Perhaps the entity knows. But you only know you want the pain of trials and fear out of trials to end. You try to block it out, pushing the incessant thoughts away — they’re getting ahead of you. The sound of the generator blends back into your ears, thrumming and creaking. Almost as if it’s moaning in it’s last moments. What the fuck is wrong with the generator?

Something sways in the back of your vision, redirecting your attention. A filthy, dirt stained white sheet. Hardly surprising, this whole place is just filthy stains, among white walls and broken electrical wires. It takes you a moment to realize something isn't right, that you had let your mind unfocus for too long. The sheet is a coat — wrapped around a form that hangs from a hook, it sways back and forth limply, the creaking and moaning pulls from the body in the throes of each swing, getting louder and quieter as it moves to and fro. You feel sickness cover your body as the realization sets in — It’s Adam.

An unconscious strangled cry echoes from your parted lips as you turn, and you throw your body towards his own, drooping as it hangs from the hook, your hands fumble and shake as you reach for him. He’s so limp, so still and bloodied. The entity cuts you off, aggressively clawing at his corpse. The sound of his flesh sloppily tearing off the hook slowly reverberates, repeating over and over in your mind, it’s nauseating. You can feel the sick clumping in the back of your throat and the familiar taste of bile building. His skin is shredded to strands as he is lifted from the hook. The entity pulls carelessly as his blood flings off each thread, covering you and the floor in the warm crimson liquid. Everything is numb, you can’t feel anything — it’s only obvious you're crying when you hear your own devastated sobs rip out through your lips.

The doctor has to be somewhere near. Was Adam on his second hook, doomed to fail anyway? Or did you just let him suffer in the back, as you let your thoughts overtake you? You’re doing it again. You scream in your head, begging yourself to stop thinking, and more tears fall out in frustration. You caused Adam's death. You should have focused and you should have helped him, It’s your fault. You lose focus so often, no recollection or memory storage in your mind, what’s wrong with you? You always slip into it so seamlessly, like it’s a regular state, a state of inability — perhaps you do it so often, that being aware of your surroundings and having focus, or any ability of reminiscence is more unnatural now. You’re at fault for his death, you’re at fault for how poorly the trial is going. Your mind is ruined, and you can’t even focus when it’s most needed — only fractures of occasional consciousness aiding you. Where has your self-control gone, have you ever had it?

Everything spirals, your brain is only able to think of The Doctor, anything else is a challenge. He’s a slimy parasite, worming and gnawing at any autonomy left in your form, before consuming it greedily. The hospital is distant and blurred around you, but your last slither of awareness has a tight grip, nagging your mind as warning. Alerting you desperately with a cold shiver down your spine. Making your attention come back, to the shadow that now covers your form. You don’t want to move, don’t want to tear your eyes toward the figure towering over you, but you can’t help yourself. Dread seizes your heart — The Doctor's form stands next to you, still and waiting. As if your nagging thoughts had summoned him. 

He matches your gaze as you stare up at him, only much more intensely. Your body waits, tingling expectantly for the electric shock to come, to increase the feeling of the constant static in your head and leave you paralyzed. But he leaves you anticipating. His pried-open, bloodshot eyes just stare into yours, wide and bulging. They look like they might burst, twitching and overcrowding your vision. Your breath hitches and you try to back away, stumbling as you turn. There’s only him. Surrounding you, at every pivot, at every look — it’s all met with his manic eyes. Desperately watching, eyeing you up hungrily. Everything spins and blends, the only solid form is his. Watching and observing perpetually. It’s all raw and nauseating as your body lurches and panics.

Your lungs burn and your chest aches as you force yourself to breathe, to try and calm down. It isn't working, it all just comes out heavily, erratically. You're losing your mind. Each gasp for air feels like you’re losing more than you’re taking in. Every despairing glance meets his, twisted and crazed. But something’s wrong. The only movement is your unsettled spinning, he just stands still, unbreathing, surrounding you. They’re Illusions — they’re all in your head. But not all of it, you can feel the sweat building up on your skin, and the throbbing in your veins — The Doctor is really here, he must be close, watching you fall apart.

And you catch him, a figure down the hall swaying. Watching intently, obsessively leering as he drinks it all in. His teeth chatter in excitement through his gaping grin and static sparks across the floor — the sound of the wave muffling the quivers and deep, breathy grunts that fall through his teeth. He can’t help himself. Savoring as every thought, every movement of yours is reprogrammed by him. He adores the control, and the feeling of being inside of you. Burrowing deeper and deeper into your mind. Tearing your awareness from you, before dangling it back in your view. Allowing you to graze it with the tips of your fingers before pulling back once more. 

It’s been enough to satiate his obsession so far. Stripping you of all sanity and rendering you incapable and thoughtless. Only allowing you to think of him, as he does you. But he’s been patient — destroying your mind through the thousands of trials, unwavering from that focus. But he requires more now, to destroy your physical form as well, to feel you break in his very own hands. To feel your hot flesh writhe. His ‘enthusiasm’ has reached his limit, and he can’t stop his body from stalking over eagerly. The air crackles with electricity as he closes the distance. Reaching out ready and anticipating to claim your body, along with your prepped, broken mind. He’ll undo you in every way, slipping your mind into madness as he touches every inch of his obsession. Tearing screams and moans from you. Selfishly taking your blood and your wet pleasure. Everything of yours will be his from now on, not just the damaged mind he’s cultivated.

[finalgirlbee]

danny stop being a creep for two seconds challenge (impossible)

[mr-viwick]

erm uhm