#evan macmillan imagine

[pumpkingas]

I usually don't think abt specific characters with this kink but holy shit??? Throwback to the time I could not play dbd without getting hard cuz I kept thinking abt the trappers heavy ass and greasy fucking farts... The fact he just walks around like a slut in nothing but overalls, Ik for a fact his ass is bare under those and his ass hair is fucking matted. Like when I first started playing ppl would be toxic and t-bag by using his trap placing animation and omfg?? Imagine getting caught in one of his traps and dragged ruthlessly to a secluded location, you're crying from fear and calling for help when he just straddles your back to keep you down. He hunkers down and farts directly against you, it bubbles in-between his huge thighs and your back is warm afterwards. He's HUGE so if he got uncomfortable he could just lean down over you, his sweaty pits against your cheeks as he rests on his elbows. I need to be covered in his musk...

[rhaenyra]

Imagine cuddling up to that at night.

[semiweirdshipper]

Killers reactions to doing trials in swimsuits (Hooked on You addition).

Notes: Sfw. Non-binary reader insert.

-

Bubba Sawyer

He's absolutely embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated. And disgusted. Not only is nintey percent of his body exposed, but his face is showing as well. While he did find the hot-dog themed swimshorts oddly endearing, the joy was short lived.

During every trial, Bubba spent most of his time hiding his face underneath his straw hat while staying in secluded areas. If anyone tried to approach him, he would rev up his chainsaw to scare them away. Just go away. He didn't want to be seen like this.

While other survivors mocked and made fun of him, you were more understanding.

From a distance, you would call out to him to try and gain his trust and comfort him. Everything was going to be alright, you would say, and you would gently explain to him the severity of completing trials. There was no need to be embarrassed. In fact, you thought he looked cute and handsome.

Bubba found himself motivated and comforted by your words, and soon he began to do the trials without mercy. Anyone who mocked him would be shredded to bits.

Expect lots of half naked hugs and kisses at the end. He was so grateful to you, you have absolutely no idea.

Michael Myers

Is this a joke? Seriously? Is this a joke? Did the Entity really think this was funny?

Michael, not only frustrated by the lack of shoes and warm clothing, was utterly infuriated. Stomping around in orange and black swim-trunks with a literal, broken shell to stab people with, it was safe to say that Michael's attitude became even more brutal.

Another aspect that angered him was how almost every survivor began to tease and flirt with him as if he were some piece of candy. Some of them even tried to touch him, but their greedy paws would be quickly lacerated.

This lack of respect made him so angry that he began to commit overkill in every single trial. However... There was one survivor who didn't treat him any differently when he had to wear his swimsuit.

You.

As if nothing had changed, you treated him with respect. You didn't tease him, stare at him, touch him or try to flirt. Instead you did the trial like you were supposed to and minded his severe fits of rage. Michael even suspected that you might have been helping him to kill other survivors...

In an act of appreciation, Michael let you live most trials, and he hardly ever harmed you. After this entire event, he might even cling to you a little bit more.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Was it a swimsuit? Or some kind of bizarre bedroom cosplay?

Pinhead's "swimsuit" was an array of harnesses that covered his chest, thighs and hips. Small chains hung from his nipples, and only a leather, black speedo with matching chains covered his crotch. His thoughts?

It was actually kind of nice.

No opened wounds, no cuts, and no bones or flesh hanging out? Pinhead could do with that. Sure he still had his pins and piercings, but he had adapted to those. And while it did get cold some times, nothing really changed. He was used to pain and rough environments.

But it was kind of annoying to witness the mixed reactions from the survivors. Some acted out in disgust and others in desire or mockery. Pinhead didn't let it get to him much and simply did the trials as he was supposed to.

Though he did notice that your desire towards him had heightened, and you became more eager to hide and run away from him during trials. It was amusing. He had always tried to get you to accept his offers for pleasure, but you were too shy and scared. But now?

Call it immature, but Pinhead was loving hunting you down and giving you no choice but to look at him. The feel of your desire and innocence was so endearing to him, he couldn't help but to playfully torture you.

Perhaps soon you would break under the pressure and accept his offers?

Evan MacMillan

Screw the Entity. Screw the survivors. And screw this stupid, dumb, ridiculous swimsuit!

If anyone thought they had seen Evan angry before, then they'd better think again. Because this time? This time he was absolutely furious. Why?

Try accidentally stepping in a trap with no boots on. Try doing a trial in Ormond. Try getting outrun constantly. And try getting grabbed and gawked at all the time.

It was safe to say that Evan's behavior during trials became increasingly dangerous when he wore his striped swimsuit. Many survivors teased about the size of his bulge and made a habit to try and grab him for fun. The outcome? Certain, painful death.

Evan was tired of this stupid situation.

The only break he got was when he had trials with you. Finally, someone who didn't play the "ball grabbing game" and actually did the trial accordingly. He respected you for that. And the fact that you didn't treat him any differently than normal was also appreciated.

If ever Evan came across you in a trap, he pretended to overlook you and simply walked by. You seemed to notice this as well, and soon you began to actively help him trap your perverted team members.

Hmp. You were pretty awesome, you know? He could hang with you.

Albert Wesker

The Entity really needed to work on it's fashion skills. Honestly. Did it really think this was his style? First off, the shorts were too colorful and far, far too short and tight. Wedgie much? Also, what cheap sunglasses. And why the silky black button-up and neck bandana? And were those... Flip-flops?

Most trials, Albert felt quite embarrassed and rather ridiculous, but he did good not to show it. While few survivors did make fun of him, he simply snapped back and told them not to be so jealous. And the other survivors?

The other survivors acted like he was made out of gold and jewels.

Eventually Albert grew to enjoy the attention. Of course he'd rile up this many survivors. How couldn't he? He was handsome and toned and oh so sexy. It was only natural that everyone either be jealous or attracted to him.

Except... You.

You didn't pay any attention to him. You made no faces, no comments and no reactions. Even when he tried teasing you, you wouldn't really respond with anything other than annoyance. And that bothered him.

Soon you became his top priority in every trial. While it was irritating that you didn't respond to his obvious charm, he did find it fascinating. It meant that your mind worked differently and you didn't let yourself get distracted. You were actually becoming super attractive to him.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you.

Pyramid Head

Let's put it bluntly. His swimsuit... Was seaweed. Yes, seaweed, with a dash of barnacles and slug shells here and there. He looked like a monster that crawled out of the ocean. And did this astonishing array of seaweed stay in place very long? No. No it did not.

The Executioner didn't care about clothing though. He was used to being barefoot and half naked. Natural elements didn't bother him that much. This fishy "swimsuit" was nothing more than an obstacle and a gift.

See, of course the survivors were going crazy because of his exposed body, but that only made it easier to kill them when they tried to get too close. It was so convenient that the Executioner didn't even have to fight much anymore, the survivors just came right to him to be killed.

The Executioner knew that it was perversion and desire that brought the survivors to him, but he wasn't interested in any of them. The only thing he did in response to their attraction was kill them.

But you? You were different.

You did have desire for him, but also respect and modesty. You put the trial and your objectives first, and you stayed composed when coming into contact with him. It was such an astonishing strength. The Executioner couldn't help but to envy you.

Maybe some time in the future he could approach you with his real face and show you gratitude for how well you behaved during this outlandish experience?

-

And that's how they became... Hooked on You!

[rootsofdread]

PLSSSS All the things you write are so unbelievably cute, tysm for existingggg

If you don't mind me sending in another request, could write something about Deathslinger, Wesker, Pig, Trapper and Oni with a s/o (or just a survivor!), with whom all power-related encounters fell weirdly intimate??? Not in any way sexual or seductive, plain intimacy. Prolonged eye contact, breath holding and everything.

The trial is going just as usual RIGHT untill it's time to pull the survivor out of the trap/ Spear them/ Put the trap on their head/ etc etc.

hiii thank you!! i hope these are good, i'll be honest i got a liiiiittle stumped but i like how they turned out! <3

Caleb Quinn / The Deathslinger:

Caleb’s a little playful with you when he spears you. He’ll wrap you up in the chains and spin you out of them, dancing with you. He’ll hold you close once he’s reeled you in, clutched against his chest…He’s warm, you can barely breathe. He holds your eyes and strokes your hair until he decides to stab and let you hit the dirt.

It’s always an excuse to pull you close to him, really. He sees it as a subtle way to show you some affection during trials if you’d rather the other survivors don’t know the two of you are together.

He’ll always go for you over any other survivors. If he sees you standing with other survivors, he’ll pick you out of all of them and spear you. The horror on everyone else’s faces delights him — but most of all he loves seeing the shock on your face as he pulls you in.

He’s sometimes just as stunned as you are by the action, so you usually have a pretty big window to escape. He prefers when you do — it gives him another opportunity to catch you. But he's just as happy throwing you onto a hook, too.

Albert Wesker / The Mastermind:

Wesker always has…A way about him, we'll say. He’s been known to enjoy playing with the survivors, getting a little intimate occasionally to mess with them. with them. You’re no different — when he manages to catch you in one of his dashes and gets you against the wall, he gets a little too close to you. Studying your eyes, holding his breath. Waiting for you to make the next move. You’re holding your breath, too.

It is a different kind of moment with you, though. It’s not just a game, it’s a subtle allowance of his affection in a way that doesn’t show his favoritism. But you know — you’re his favorite. And getting cornered and thrown into a wall is just his way of showing you that when you’re in a trial.

He isn’t cruel, he gives you a chance to run away before he goes after you again. He’s a gentleman, it’d just be rude to catch you off-guard and throw you onto a hook. He’s better than that. Besides, when he lets you run he gets another chance to snag you and see your reaction.

But you know he really has no ulterior motives doing this. He just likes seeing the way you react to what he does; he is still a scientist after all, and he finds it quite amusing. He really is quite playful when you get down to it, and him pulling stunts like this isn’t out of the ordinary.

Amanda Young / The Pig:

Amanda’s trappings have always been weirdly intimate, to be honest. It is something intimate to her, in a way. There’s just something intense about punishing the ungrateful, even though it’s not that with you — she doesn’t know what it is, it’s the same, but different.

She gets very in the zone during trials, hunting down the ungrateful survivors. But it’s like a switch flips in her brain when she finds you, seeming to relax a little…It can be jarring sometimes to see her go from bloodthirsty to kind so quickly, but you know it means she loves you.

She’s always gentle when she fastens the Reverse Bear Trap on your head, tucking your hair out of the way and petting you when she’s finished. There’s always something loving about the way she puts the trap on you, something gentle. Something about her lingering touches…It’s a loving gesture. She wants you to be better.

She never feels like she can breathe properly until she gets you on the hook. She’ll quickly leave you, not wanting it to be obvious that she gets so flustered around you. Helping the helpless is a beautiful thing, but she’s a Jigsaw, for crying out loud, nobody needs to know how she feels. Except you, of course…

Evan MacMillan / The Trapper:

Evan is aggressive, overtly so many would say, so it's a shock seeing him essentially stop in his tracks when he sees you caught in one of his traps. He's usually quick to pull mangled survivors out of his traps…But with you, he's more…Slow. 

He circles you to make sure nobody's around. He pets your hair as he crouches down to open the jaws. He's quiet and keeps eye contact. It's so unlike him. That is, until he huffs and hauls you out of the dirt, over to a hook. He stays for a moment, still looking up at you, his hands lingering.

You're like a wounded animal to him in these moments. He knows he has to be kind to you…Gentle to you, even. He does his job, he does it well, but he loves you, and he hopes he shows you that.

If someone else tries to save you from a trap, though, he's quicker to get rid of them. You're his, this is his moment with you and he won't have anyone ruining it. He likes to be alone with you.

Kazan Yamaoka / The Oni:

Like Evan, Kazan is known for his aggression during trials; it's almost eerie how calm he gets when he follows you around to absorb your blood orbs. You're essentially free game to him and he won't pass it up.

When he has enough to fuel his rage, he's always right behind you. Waiting. He gives you a moment to start running, but he always catches up with you and knocks you down with his trusty Kanabo. He pauses above you, catching your gaze as he breathes heavily. He presses his forehead to yours — a strange moment this is, but yours nonetheless.

He wants to stay with you, but his duty calls. He leaves to chase down the other survivors. But he comes back for you as soon as he can, a hand pressing against your head before he picks you up and hauls you to a hook.

He's an honorable man, you know that. He never tries to do serious damage to you. And he always shows you how much he loves you — he'd be utterly distraught if you didn't know he loved you. He's sensitive.

[certifiedghostfacelover]

DBD Killers as Partners

{Includes: Trapper, Huntress}

I hope you all enjoy! <3

=============================================================

The Trapper - Evan Macmillian

Oh boy, where to even start with this guy?

He’s a bit... complicated. Being in the Entity’s realm and experiencing torture quite frequently does that to you.

Being in a relationship was something he never really thought about, even before he was taken. It was the furthest thing in his mind.

And then you came along. And well... He started thinking about you a lot... Like... A lot.

Honestly you probably knew. He makes it super obvious in trials. 

You’re gonna have to be the one to pursue anything though, and even then, it’s really tough. It’d take a while to even become friends, especially lovers. S/o is going to have to be really patient.

Opening up is really hard for him. It’s not that he hates the idea of being like that, it’s just he THINKS he can’t be like that. His father called him weak pretty much his whole life for experiencing emotions like that, and you two being on two different sides doesn’t really help either

After awhile of being cold and distant, he warms up, but only to you. Don’t expect him to buddy up with other survivors or killers.

He’d like it if you took the lead once you get in a relationship. Man does not know a single thing about dating.

His main way of displaying affection for you in acts of service. He also does a lot of little things for you, even when you don’t notice.

He’s not fond of PDA and he sucks at actually talking to you about his love for you. He’ll still try his best to return your affections if you are touchy person or a sweet talker, but don’t expect anything crazy.

Slightly controversial take, but honestly he’d probably be one of the few killers to spare you in trial if he felt such a way for you. He’s gone against the Entity multiple times in the past, and even if he has to ensure torture from it, he’d be willing to take it for you. 

Will also help you out of his beartraps if you’re in trials together. He honestly feels bad about it and doesn’t know how to express it well other than a quiet apology and doing some things for you.

He’s just real tough to crack, but he’s a big softie for you in the end, even if you don’t know.

The Huntress - Anna

Unlike Evan, Anna is super warm to you and makes an effort to show it. 

 She was instantly smitten with you when you two met. No one in the realm understood that, not even Anna. There was just something about you that was so endearing...

Honestly, her first thought would be to kidnap you or something. But for obvious reasons, she couldn’t quite do that... 

So, she tried to win your affections without having to take you. You’d obviously be aware she was so taken with you, so you instantly knew who was leaving you gifts. It ranges from stuff she made (like wood carvings) to random dead flowers she found.

When you two do decide to be in a relationship, she is super affectionate and loving towards you. She’ll try to tell you how much she loves you with the little English she knows, but if she can’t, she’ll make sure you know.

She’s affectionate in front of anyone and everyone in the realm. She might be a bit offended at first if you expressed it didn’t like PDA but would quickly understand. 

Oh, definitely sings and hums for you. She’d be honored if you learned a song to sing with her, even if you couldn’t sing. 

 She probably gets jealous pretty easily. She sees you as hers, and just hers. She gets possessive of you, even to the Entity.

She probably went against the Entity in the beginning when it came to hurting you, but it sort of forced her hand when it showed just how much stronger it was. So... Sorry S/o :(

She really doesn’t want too though. So... She’ll go super easy on you. Oh... Did she miss you? That was totally not on purpose!

And when she does have to sacrifice you, she’ll make it up to you in any way she can. You can literally ask for anything and she’d probably do it.

Super sweet lady to you... Just a bit deadly to others <3

[r3dkn0ts]

I wanted to start something on my own ( the ask box is open pls send requests I am bored ) and got inspired reading some prompts, so here's the DBD Killers' reactions to getting horribly flirted with! Including some of my own pick-up lines because I'm bad at flirting

Badly Flirting with The DBD Killers: Part 1 Featuring Evan MacMillan, Philip Ojomo, and Max Thompson Jr.

Themes: GN!Reader being cringe, an attempt at comedy, slight fluff, and implied smut Warnings: Canon-typical violence

The Trapper / Evan MacMillan - You got cornered while injured with no other survivors nearby. Shit. Might as well give it a shot, right? - "Hey, are you a hundred dollar bill on the ground? Because I'd pick you up and spend every bit of you immediately." - Your voice was wavering as you said it, even though you tried to look as nonchalant as possible. - Evan's loud puffing behind his mask made the silence even more deafening. Was he gonna mori you now? Probably. - "Nice try", was the only thing he said in his rough accent before swiftly downing you and putting you on a sacrificial hook. - He definitely wasn't going to admit that your pick-up line made him chuckle a bit inside of his head, or that it made you look cute. - He couldn't stop thinking about that for a while.

The Wraith / Philip Ojomo - Trapped in a corner in the garage at Gas Heaven, your friend Ace had dared you to finally confront The Wraith about how you felt the next time you met him in a trial, even supplying you with a pick-up line. - You certainly weren't one to back down from a challenge! This was stupid. - "Are you a fine wine? Because I'd love to taste you." - Philip stared down at you blankly, darting his stark white eyes between the concrete floor and your face. - Had you actually flustered him? Body language was all you really had to go off of, and the fingers on his right hand were twitching. - Before you knew it, he rang his bell to cloak and darted out of the building, leaving you alone in the cold garage. - Did you offend him? What if he's already in a relationship? Ah fuck, you didn't think of that. - You didn't know it, but he watched you run out of the exit gate, cloaked. You didn't even see him for the rest of the trial. He was too embarrassed to face you any time soon. - Much to his surprise, that was the first time he had ever gotten physically aroused after being taken into the fog. He had business to take care of after you left.

The Hillbilly / Max Thompson Jr. - The three other survivors were sacrificed. You thought you were about to get chainsawed in half, but he stopped revving when you looked like you were about to say something to him. He was curious. - "Hey, if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber!" - Your comment made him tilt his head to the side like a confused puppy and lower his chainsaw. Did you just compliment him? Why? - His second assumption was that someone had dared you to compliment him as a joke. He was always the butt of the joke, so why would anyone actually compliment him? He's hideous! - You noticed him getting caught up in his head, so you took a chance and gently placed a hand on the deformed flesh of his arm. He flinched a bit and looked back down at you. - "Are you okay? I really did mean that. I think you're cute." - Max simply stared at you in silence. He was really, really confused. Were you serious? You sounded serious. - He looked back down at the hand you still had on his arm. You went to take it back, scared he was angry, but he grabbed your wrist as you did and pulled your smaller hand into his. - For a moment, he just looked at your hand. Your skin felt so nice against his. He had never felt someone touch him unless it was meant to hurt him. He liked this new feeling. - For once, Max felt himself smiling. He knew he had to let you go, though. So he let you leave through the hatch after you promised him you'd visit him later.

[aeviiteernal]

Hello! May I request a Drabble of some fluff with a survivor reader and trapper? Thank you!

Evan MacMillan / The Trapper

For as long as Evan has existed in the Fog for, it goes without saying he is cruel and somewhat unpredictable.

When it comes to you he is so weak, your arrival into this cruel place lit up a part of him he once believed never existed.

When he first saw you, you were still struggling on how things work which eventually led you into falling victim into one of his traps. He thought you looked cute... But nevertheless needed to do his job.

As time went on the two of you became closer, you would find yourself lurking away from the survivor's campfire and find your way into his realm to spend time with one another. He was head over heels for you...

He was the first one to confess — with one condition; sacrifices in the trial are a given in order to please the God who trapped everyone here.

He'll let you go and get hatch, but you should at least know that if you get caught and thrown on a hook it is not in ill faith and he will be as gentle as possible. Even when bringing a mori he would never want to cause you extreme harm.

Outside of trials, you can find yourself clinging to his body and ramble to him about stories from your old life and maybe hear something from him every now and then.

He is a very protective man and will fight anyone who has upset you, and this includes other killers. Your his, why would anyone think it'd be a smart idea to upset him AND you?!

With enough convincing he'll just wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close. He knows you aren't some frail and weak person, but he has one thing in his life he cherishes the most and does not want to lose you.

[littlebigplanet]

right on his lawn huh

[hybristophile-bitch]

Crossover entre Dbd e o mundo de The Joy of Living (meu mangá) ☺️

Ps: tem um terceiro crossover surpresa na parte 2 👀

[cumbermovels]

Chaos within the Killer camp

Hi !!, I have been very lucky to find your DBD content and although it is for now the only thing I have read, I can surely say that I love it! and wanted to place an order.

Headcanons of the Assassins with an S / o that is a little sunny with them at all times but your companions hate you and make fun of you so you run to the Assassin camp to feel better with your loved ones.

You can put the characters that you think are best suited to this, I give you freedom to choose.

I understand if you can't do it but anyway, thank you so much for everything you bring us! 💖

(My English is not good and I am very sorry for that.).

Hey there~! Your English is fine, I got the gist of what you wanted to say! I know you’re probably asking for longer HCs for some of the Killers, and separately, but I had a bit of a different idea on how to approach this, so I hope you like this! <3

---

It wasn’t your fault that you were trying your hardest to be positive, or that you weren’t necessarily being affected by the darkening or fear that most of the survivors were going through.

Why should you bother wasting every second of your life - Or whatever there was that remained of it - Thinking up a shit tone of strategies to counter killers, get better at fixing generators and finding the hatch, when you could chat about your passions, hobbies, friends, families and other cool stuff?

Like how Kate loves to play the guitar! Or... How many of them have pets! Or Yui’s racing and motorbike passion! Claudette’s interest in botany. Everyone was so unique in their own way, why not take pride in that!

Unfortunately, your fellow Survivors weren’t leaning your way, so you often found yourself wandering around the foggy forest on your own - You were never afraid of getting lost, after all, you never needed food or water, and somehow, you always ended up back at the Survivor camp, even if you only walked straight ahead.

This time, though, things went different - Instead of arriving back at your designated camp - The Killer Camp was painted out before your very eyes.

You couldn’t help but stand there, rooted to the spot, with eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape from the shock - How did this happen? Did the Entity make a mistake?

Looking like a deer in the headlights, you just stood there, staring blankly, while all the Killers turned around to stare back at you uncomfortably.

Thankfully, the Entity made it so that no altercation can happen in between trials, so at least you were safe.

“Yo, toots, watcha standin’ there for? Come over. We were just gossipin’ ‘bout ya normies!” Ghostie was the first to let out a dark cackle and wave his hand, calling you over, where he was standing in between Michael Myers and The Legion.

You were more than happy to oblige, and with a wide grin, you immediately scuttered over and sat on the log next to him.

Susie was the first one to greet you properly, and started playing and braiding your head, while Ghostface started talking about horror movies and whatever crimes he committed in the real life.

Myers, though silent, didn’t bother budging from his spot, but it was kinda obvious he was getting annoyed with the young ones’ obnoxiousness.

Freddy was letting out low, menacing evil-laughs, but they went completely unnoticed, especially after he earned a hit to the back of his head from Trickster’s bat, before the K-pop singer scooted over and plopped down on a log opposite of them, smirking and shifting the conversation towards music and how beautiful the screams of his victims’ agony were, especially synthetized into his songs.

The rest of the Legion members joined in the conversation, behaving like normal young adults do, and gossiping here and there about random shit from their neighbourhood and all the drama they went through.

Adiris was keeping her distance, not wanting to disturb anyone with her rotting, pusing stench, but at least the censer smell was offering a soothing aroma for everyone. 

Hillbilly and Bubba were shying away from the crown, and Charlotte, Sally and Amanda were desperately fighting against the Doctor and the Clown so they wouldn’t dare try to harm a Survivor outside of a trial.

Which made Anna come over and bring you into a bone-crushing hug, protectively swinging you in her arms and humming a sweet lullaby, showing that she was taking care of you now.

 Rin finally got the courage to come over, and though she wasn’t able to speak much, she appreciated having her hair played with, and if her ancestor, the fierce Kazan, dared approach you, she’d hiss at him and get in a fighting stance, katana out and ready to fight - Thankfully, he seemed to get the idea and he’d back off, happy to let his young descendant do her thing.

Pyramid Head would take out his sword and plant it as a shield in front of you, realising your innocence and how you didn’t deserve to be Executed, as you’ve never committed any sins worth of punishing, so whenever the Cenobite was attempting to steal you away, he’d get destroyed immediately.

Carmina, timidly, would come over and let out soft craw-like sounds, blushing sweetly as you’d pet her head and smile at her so nicely, calling her beautiful and what not.

Sadako would play tricks on you and try to cause some minor harm like tugging on your hair or pushing you around, but Wesker would stop her, as he was far too interested in flirting with you - After all, there weren’t many people to flirt with, in the Killer Camp, after all.

Nemesis was trying desperately to infect you, while Caleb would use his slingshot to counter him, and Talbot would continue fighting himself against even thinking about using you as a Blight Test Subject, considering how wrong all the other subjects went.

In the end, Lisa and Evan were the ones to walk you back to your Camp, and Philip would pat your head and offer a small smile as a farewell wish.

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

The Trapper| Evan MacMillan masterlist

Trapper with short, busty afab s/o

[soapyghostie]

Hello!! Can you write any of the dbd killers (and The Doctor) with a reader who comes back severely drugged after a trial with The Clown? How would they react?

Ayyyyy! Another request, that’s been sitting in my inbox since forever, is done! Slowly, but surely getting back into writing. This is my first time writing for Evan and Frank. Hope y'all enjoy.

The Trapper/Evan MacMillan

When Evan sees you stumbling and disoriented, Evan’s eyes widen in immediate concern. He can feel his heart pounding as he rushes to your side, a surge of worry overtaking his typically stoic demeanor. He even feels fear coursing through him as he begs you to tell him what happened as he takes your hands in his shaking ones to try and stabilize you. 

When you finally tell him about your trial with The Clown, a deep-seated rage builds within Evan. His face is contorted with a mixture of worry and rage as he imagines the sadistic torment The Clown put you through. He grabs his weapon and grips it tightly with a burning desire for revenge. You’ll have to calm him down and convince him to stay with you; if not, he’ll storm off to teach The Clown a lesson. However, you do end up convincing him to stay, although he makes a mental note to have a ‘friendly’ conversation with The Clown later. 

Evan’s large hands, usually accustomed to handling large and dangerous tools, shake as he tends to your wounds. He does his best to be gentle as he’s not used to patching up wounds, normally being the cause of them. His usually stern expression softens as his heartaches at the sight of your suffering, revealing a side that only emerges in the face of genuine concern for you. Enjoy it while you can because he rarely shows this side of himself to anyone, even to you. 

Evan then wraps his arms around you in a silent comforting hug. Y’all stay there for many minutes remaining silent and steadfast as you recover. Evan’s eyes blaze with determination, silently promising that The Clown will pay for the anguish inflicted upon you.

The Legion/Frank Morrison

When you come stumbling into Ormond after your trial, Frank freezes in shock as he witnesses your disoriented state, his usually charismatic and cocky demeanor replaced with genuine concern. He rushes to your side and throws your arm over his shoulder to support you the rest of the way to the resort. Once inside, he’ll sit you down on one of the worn out and torn couches making sure you're comfortable before sitting down next to you. 

Frank will aggressively try to get you to talk to him about what happened. I advise you not to take it personally when it comes to Frank’s aggressiveness. This is just his way of showing he cares about you and he doesn’t know how to express himself in any other way so give him some slack. Jeez y’all. (Just kidding) Anyway, when you tell him about your trial with The Clown, a spark of fury ignites in Frank as he contemplates the sadistic acts committed towards you by The Clown. His worried expression twists into a snarl, a clear sign of revenge plotting against The Clown. However, Frank (for once) actually doesn’t give in to his impulses, due to your pleas, and stays to take care of you. He’ll get his gang together and plot a revenge plan on The Clown later while you're resting. No one hurts you and gets away with it. 

Despite his constant tough exterior, you can feel Frank’s hands shake as he patches up your wounds. He’s uncharacteristically tender, his eyes betraying a depth of emotion not often seen by him. Also, he’s at your beck and call. Whatever you need Frank will get it for you. Icepack? Food? A blanket? Frank is on it. 

Frank being the overprotective boyfriend he is will remain constantly by your side while you are recovering. Hey, you never know who could come and harm you? Anyway, Frank will hold you in his embrace as long as you will allow him too, whispering reassurances while also promising safety and vengeance, ensuring that The Clown’s actions toward you will not go unpunished.

The Doctor/Herman Carter

At first Herman doesn’t recognize your state as he is too absorbed into his work, although he does greet you, hearing you stumble into his office. However, when you don’t reciprocate a greeting of your own is when Herman looks up from his work. At that moment, his clinical gaze shifts immediately to genuine concern as he takes in your disoriented state. Worry flashes across Herman’s face as he assesses the situation as he springs out of his chair to your side, guiding you to a bed to lay down on. 

When you tell Herman what happened during your trial with The Clown, his mind starts racing with analytical anger as he contemplates the sadistic experiments that you told him that The Clown inflicted on you. However, in your drugged state and inability to read your partner’s emotions, you can’t tell what kind of emotions Herman is feeling due to him keeping that professional facade he always has. Although, if you look closely enough, you will see the determination burn brightly in his eyes to avenge you. 

Surprising even himself, Herman administers caring for you with precision, his usually clinical movement now laced with genuine empathy. He patches you up no problem with little to no error. Once you are all patched up, he suggests for you to get rest as your body won't be able to heal itself properly without it. 

Herman remains as a steadfast presence, checking in on you once and awhile. If you need or want anything, he’ll get it for you. As he helps you recover, a burning desire to slow and painfully torture The Clown gives way into his mind. Maybe once you are 100% again he’ll teach that fat fuck a lesson or two.

[liesonmytongues]

Omg is that? It is! It's another kinktober prompt 🫠

The Trapper/ Evan MacMillan x AFAB!Reader

Synopsis- You've been pent up to hell, looking for more and more intense ways to satisfy your urges with no avail. Until the Trapper comes to...*chase*...away your worries.

Warnings/CWs- Predator/prey, being chased through the woods, fantasizing about death in a sexual way, breeding, rough sex, reader is a fucking freak y'all, reader also has a puss, Evan being Evan

Word count- 3,700 (I liked this one)

You've always been told you had…questionable tastes– too intense, too different, too kinky, too weird. Most of your partners weren't ever willing to go outside their comfort zone, sticking to basic, boring sex. Missionary, blow jobs, maybe if you were lucky you'd get someone who liked it a little rough– someone who liked to smack you around a bit or who'd let you take control for a night –but really, you were bored. Mind–numbingly bored.

Which is why your current situation was so great.

The first few months after you were stolen by the entity were hell. Of course they were– you were being hunted down on the weekly by monsters and murderers, and you had no way to escape or make it stop. Every day you woke up, you were terrified of what would happen next– of who would chase you down, maul or stab or rip or torture, whether or not you would be sacrified to the god who brought you here –you could barely even talk with the other survivors, too busy looking for a way out or studying what you'd learned about the killer of the day. You were going insane. Until you started winning.

You started escaping. Making it to the hatch, back to camp, in at least mostly one piece. You started getting good at running away– you learned which killers needed what maneuvers and strategies. Your body adapted to the strenue of jumping and ducking and running. You were proud of your newfound skill– you are proud. Then you felt it. That same frustrating feeling you got after every sad one night stand or casual relationship. The same feeling that had you touching yourself late at night to a fantasy no one had been able to fulfill. The dullness. You were bored. You were bored of escaping your trials so easily, you were bored of using the same tricks with the same killers, you were bored of being bored. The only excitement you ever got now was right before the mist took you. Imagining– praying really– that something would be switched up. Maybe the entity would finally show you just how sick it was that you kept getting away. Maybe there would be a new killer, or a new realm, fuck, a new weapon– anything. There never was.

You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t tell the other survivors either– god, how could you? They’d think you were fucking insane, wishing for a challenge, wishing to be killed, just for, what? A thrill?

No, you couldn’t tell them. So you took it into your own hands.

You started giving yourself rules for each trial– ‘this time no flashlight���, ‘this time no pallets’, ‘this time no hiding’ –something new every time, and when you eventually mastered those too, you did more. No running, no circling, no going to the hatch immediately. It worked. More than another year went by without the creeping boredom– every frustration taken out in your trials, many nights spent getting off on the exhilaration, the adrenaline, the rush of near death– and sometimes the rush of death, though less often. It was perfect…until it wasn't. There’s only so many things you can do– so many things you can change –before challenge and exhilaration turns into just throwing yourself at the killers, just giving up. You felt like you were sinking– you’d tried everything. That’s where he came in.

The Trapper.

Somehow you’d only ever had a few trials with him. A couple in the beginning where you were caught in his namesake, ankles mangled, achilles torn, bleeding out while you were sacrificed like everyone else he caught that way. A couple later where you got out before he even saw you– only knowing it was him because of the snapping of bear traps somewhere across the realm– and then one after. The one where this started. You were being reckless, you’ll be the first to admit it– teasing him, using your flashlight but not running away after, running back and forth where he couldn’t catch you– anything to piss him off, anything for the thrill, right? You weren't even upset when he caught you– whether or not it ended in death, at least it made you feel something.

He had you by the neck, back shoved into his massive chest while his cleaver tapped at your stomach like he was toying with you– not like. You knew he was playing with you, teasing your death like you'd been teasing him for the past hour– huffing airy laughs every time you jolted at the feeling of cold, sharp metal.

“You– huff –you’re not like any of those– huff –other survivors, are you? Antagonistic little shit…” His breath hit the side of your face, warm and rough and wet while he growled at you, heaving deep breaths after your little runaround.

“Oh, are you out of br–eath? So sor–ry.” You wheezed around the fist clamped down on your throat, gasping when he suddenly clenches harder– a deep, rumbling laugh making his chest shake. It doesn’t seem like he registers his own strength, only loosening his grip when you paw at him on instinct.

“So feisty…I like you.” His hands suddenly leave you, shoving you against a wall and knocking the back of his cleaver against your head.

“Kill yourself.” Another booming laugh, the Trapper tossing his head back like everything you said was hilarious.

“I bet you say that to all the guys.” He moved closer until his massive body caged you in completely. You were sure that you could duck and run, make it to the hatch, end the trial– god knows your new friend is too big to be very agile –but, against every instinct and better judgment you had…you were having fun. Fucking with this giant butcher of a man was fun. Maybe it was because he was so much bigger than you, or because those tree trunk arms and massive thighs and huge chest made him just your type– maybe it was only because he was playing along. Whatever the reason, you didn’t want it to end yet.

“What, not even gonna try to get away? You that cocky? Or maybe this turns you on– is that it? You like running away from the big bad killer?” Christ, you don't know if it's making you more or less annoyed that he won't shut up. And unfortunately, he also hit the nail on the head. You can't do much more than roll your eyes at his dig– or, more accurately, you just didn't feel like it.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You sneer, crossing your arms and shoving the hand with the cleaver away when it got too close for comfort.

He tilted his head closer to your face and made a noise so deep and gruff that it almost sounded like a purr.

“You want me to do something about it?”

And here you are now– the situation. He’d given you a headstart, told you to get going if you wanted to ‘play’, and…well, c’mon– you haven’t had sex in so long, and this was finally an opportunity to fulfill some of those fantasies that no one ever wanted to try. This could be the only time in your life where you have the chance to be satisfied– who cares about who’s giving it to you when you’re this pent up? Your body was already fairly tired from running him– Evan, he’d told you –in circles for the past hour, but you didn’t actually want to get away in the first place, just get far enough away for the chase to be fun.

You could hear him laughing somewhere behind you, his boots clanging against the old rusting metal while you tried to get out of the estate and into the treeline, where you had the upper hand. Evan would know his own home like the back of his hand– he’ll know everywhere you could possibly hide, and you’re sure he has a litany of traps set up all over the place, but the forest is different. There will be beartraps and wire and god knows what else, but you know that by now, and you also know of all those old abandoned fox holes and bushes that would make a good hiding spot. You have to give the entity credit, it can make one hell of a good realm.

The front door– what's left of it –flies open, slamming against the side of the entryway as you sprint out, jumping over the railroad tracks and turning around just in time to see the Trapper rush up the stairs. He’s heaving again, his breath slightly visible where it condensates in quick puffs. Seeing him so out of breath and excited is exhilarating, giving you the boost of adrenaline to keep running despite the ache in your calves and thighs. This is exactly what you've been craving– what you've rubbed your cunt to for months –the rush of being chased without the terror that comes with knowing you might die at the end. Hell, you still might die at the end, but at least you'll actually get fucked first.

You need to concentrate– he's getting closer.

Your legs hurl you into the woods, through the trees, jumping over roots and visible bear traps, all while Evan yells after you– taunting, beckoning, promises of exactly what he's going to do when you eventually get caught –it spurs you on.

Leaves and sticks break under your feet, giving Evan the chance to track you even after you leave his sight. He may not be particularly fast, and he may only be human, but no one can deny that he’s damn good at what he does. His cock is straining, leaking already– if he wasn’t so excited about the whole thing he’d be mortified by his desperate body. He palms himself through his slacks, trying to adjust into a more comfortable position while relieving that painful ache. Fuck, he just wants to bury himself inside your hot cunt, feel your sticky arousal on his thighs and dripping down his balls while he pistons in and out– he’s so caught up in his fantasy that he almost doesn’t notice when the sound of your footsteps stops. Almost.

You’d found a good spot to hide– as good as any –and tucked yourself inside, shoving as much of your body as possible between and under leaves and tree roots, the litter blocking your skin from view. The only thing left out in the open were your eyes– your head tucked under some brush, giving you a vantage point to watch the Trapper walk by. It doesn’t take long before you hear his breathing again– still heaving like a wild animal.

“Where are you, little mouse!” He was closer than you thought– that booming voice only a few dozen feet away at most, and it was making you so fucking wet. It was embarrassing, slick leaking onto your underwear like a bitch in heat, all because its been a little while since you’ve gotten any action– made you feel stupid desperate. He calls out a couple more times, then goes silent, listening for you– for your breathing, your footsteps, any rustle or brush that could hint at where you were. Or, that's what you figure.

You saw his feet walk into your line of sight, saw them seem to move back and forth like he was searching. You realized too late he'd found you when your leg was grabbed and you were yanked out of your hiding spot– right back into that giant chest.

You can feel his erection pressing into your lower back, the bulge grinding slowly while he huffs against the back of your head. Your clit throbs at the feeling, and the Trapper laughs, turning into a deep groan at the end.

“Caught you, bunny– let's make this fun.” His hand dips low, rubbing over your clothed cunt– rough and inexperienced, but fuck, it gets you going anyway. If anything, thinking of him being so desperate to fuck you that he can barely even control his hands is enough to make you moan breathily, rutting your hips forward in an attempt to get some stimulation on your poor, achy clit.

“Get on with it.” It came out whinier than you intended, but it did its job. Evan pushed you down onto the ground– onto your stomach –and climbed on top, caging you in just like he did 15 minutes ago back at the estate. You couldn't even bring yourself to care about the twigs scraping against your arms, or the rock positioned almost uncomfortably under your calf– not with the way your killer so clearly wanted you, humping your thigh with too much force while his calloused hands yanked at your belt and pants.

“Fucking– c'mon!” Followed by a loud rip and a triumphant laugh when he got too impatient, the fabric splitting down the middle– along with your slick underwear. “There it is. Little cunt wants to be fucked nice and hard by Trapper, doesn't it?” Evan yanked up your hips, grinding your pussy against his clothes cock– teasing you, for fucks sake.

“Didn't I tell you to get on with it? I'm not getting any more turned on just laying here!” He scoffed, slapping your cunt with his palm and tearing a little yelp from your throat.

“Don't worry, mouse. I'll fill this pussy soon.” You couldn't really look over your shoulder with his whole body on top of you like it was, but you could hear the buttons on his overalls popping– and then your own yell when he suddenly plunged his fingers inside you. They were probably disgusting, probably covered in blood and dirt and grime and filth– and holy shit it felt so fucking good. They filled you up so much more than your own fingers, rubbed so good on your walls, with so much more friction than any you you could remember having. Maybe it was a fluke, but Evan pressed his thick fingers right into that soft, gummy spot inside you that forced out a low moan, humming to himself before doing it again– and again, and again, and again, fucking you with them while his cock dripped pre down your ass and thigh.

This was everything– everything –you’ve ever wanted. And yeah, maybe you found it in a deranged killer who was fingering you with gross, bloody fingers, but still– this was what you'd been looking for since your first disappointing hookup.

“What, no more complaining? You don't even need my cock, do you? My fingers are plenty.” It wasn't hard to call his bluff, considering his cock was twitching and throbbing between your legs– just waiting to finally sink deep inside your tight hole and fuck you stupid. He wanted you as much as you wanted him– needed you like you needed him.

“Just– ah!” You were cut off when Evan abruptly yanked his fingers out and thrust his heavy cock forward– missing the first couple of times, punching forward into your clit instead before he finally got it with an annoyed grunt. You were wet enough that the friction didn't burn, but God did the stretch ache, forcing your cunt to accommodate his girth, leaky tip pressing incessantly at your cervix.

His hands dug into the leaf litter around you, huffing out a groan every time your walls clenched unconsciously– like a vice made just for him. It was hard for him to even pull out, Evan’s cock scraping and rubbing and being sucked back in by your pussy.

“Ha–ah, ah, don't even wanna let me go, little rabbit? I knew you were desperate– letting a killer fuck your little hole –but your body can't stop squeezing me for even a second!” That boisterous laugh of his right next to your face was almost painful to your ears, and you can't tell if his mocking is making you more turned on or more annoyed, but fuck it you're gonna let that get in the way of what might be the best sex or your life.

His first thrust feels like getting hit by a truck– punching the air out of your lungs and forcing a strained, gurgled noise that sounded less like a moan and more like a dying animal.

The next two were better, the Trapper wrapping his– perfect, strong, huge, bulky –arms around your midsection to bully his cock inside more smoothly. It’s still intense, more than you've never taken– as far as you can tell. God knows that actually looking at it would have made you lose your nerve, but you swear it has to be at least 8 or 9 inches– and even though it doesn't seem like anywhere near the whole things inside, your organs feel like they're happily rearranging themselves. Your cervix alone is being abused to high hell, almost too painful if it weren't for the way he rammed into all the right places too– your poor neglected clit throbbing while it begged for any friction to make you cum.

Not a hard fix. The angle was awkward, but it wasn't hard to shove a hand between your legs and just wait. Each rough thrust had your body surging forward just enough to hit home, your cunt pressing against your hand in a way that had your clit catching on your fingers– and the added bonus of confirming just how huge this man's dick was. When it pressed down onto your arm, you could feel your stomach bulging, distending, even through any pudge that should have made that difficult.

Your body is being flipped over before you can register it– all the muddled greens and browns and tans of Evan's body and the forest making it hard to tell where anything was.

“Touching yourself? What, can't make yourself cum on just my cock? That hurts my feelings, mouse.” That causes another eye roll, but at least he doesn't make you stop.

“Don't– fuck –don’t flatter yourself, your dick isn't magic.” His only response is to grab the backs of your thighs, shoving them up against your chest– spreading your cunt wide to further accommodate his massive size. The way it makes him feel even deeper should hurt– it does hurt, you think –but everything feels so good that you can't bring yourself to question why. The entity will come up again later, once you're back in your right mind– you'll realize how likely it was that the lack of pain was its doing somehow. Realize that it had to have been watching, and whether or not it could get off on what it saw, it was at least interested.

That's for future you to process.

Evan laughs in your face when you cry out, his thrusting getting erratic– manic. Everything about him is getting manic. You can see his eyes at this close proximity through his mask, wide and blown and looking nearly drugged– pupils take up almost his entire iris, whatever color they were before completely overshadowed until he really looks like the monster he is.

His huffing and groaning start to mix with low moans every time his hips stutter, thighs pressing against your ass, trying to get as much of his cock as deep as possible inside your warm, slick walls. It's better than any fist– any fleshlight, any pillow, any shower –sucking him in so perfectly that Evan can't help it when he starts to babble.

“Fuck– fuck, gonna get you pregnant– gonna see if that's even possible haha!– I bet it is, gonna cum so fucking hard– gonna fill you, gonna stuff you full, let's see if the tentacle bitch lets it– guh! –happen!” It's almost hard to make out what he's saying between the pants and heaves and groans, but even if you couldn't understand a single word it would still be obvious what he wanted. The press of your knees nearly up to your shoulders, thick, leaky cock bullying your cervix like it's begging to break through into your fucking womb. The thought makes you cringe, but the thought of being bred, by this disgusting, horrible man, turns you on much more than you know it should.

You don't want to get pregnant– not in this place, not by him– it's too bad the image makes you gush. Your fingers catch your clit only a handful more times before you toss your head back, crying out a mix of babbling pleas and Evan's name– cumming hard. Harder that you're ever going to admit, but your body does the talking for you– pulsing, squeezing, spasming, the Trapper's cock forces your cum out around itself, dribbling down your ass onto the ground and sticking to his pubes every time they just barely brush your skin.

It sends him over the edge.

“Gonna cum inside– gonna get you pregnant, gonna cum! Fuck! Take it– take it, take it, mouse! Gonna watch your belly swell with my kid– c'mon, get pregnant!” He manages to pummel another inch inside before he cums– sputtered moans and broken grunts accompanying the frankly ridiculous amount of cum he pumps into you. You can feel his cock jolt with every spurt, a fresh groan forcing up his throat when it mingles with your own and leaks onto the ground, dirtying the leaves with a mix of your spend and leaving Evan panting while his cock slowly softens inside you. It's like he doesn't want to pull out– like he's trying his hardest to actually get you pregnant.

He manages a few more weak thrusts– a last ditch effort to make it take, or just because he doesn't want it to end just yet –before pulling out and laying on the ground next to you. The pain still hasn't set in yet, so your hips and knees fail to ache when they drop out of the press and onto the disgusting mess you've made in the brush.

You'll need time to recover before going to the hatch or getting a cleaver to the skull. Part of you hopes for the latter– praying to something that death with act as a sort of plan B, just like when it heals your wounds before going back to camp.

God you hope.

[fishyvamp]

Evan Macmillan lived in Seattle, imagine a different universe in which he fled to the coast and found a job as a light house keeper far from his father's abuse. Far from the terror and influence of the Entity.

Lighthouse keeper!Evan who moves to the remote island off the coast of Washington. Just a small little town on an island no one's ever heard of. All there is is farmers and sailors and their families. His job is to maintain the light house. Just a light salary, not much, but enough to keep food in his belly and wood for his fire.

Lighthouse keeper!Evan who finds himself at the market buying food when he sees you minding the fish stall. You standing there are all pretty dressed in a fisherman's apron gutting the fish. Gloves oversized as you go to town. Lighthouse keeper!Evan was never one to think blood was pretty, but you wear it well. The way you smile as you talk to him about the fish of the day.

Lighthouse keeper!Evan who invites you to his place for dinner, but realizes by the time he's home that he has no clue to how to make a proper dinner. He can make something simple, but rather plain. No one where near good enough to impress you. Or so he assumes. If he was still living back home he'd have the cook whip something up.

Lighthouse keeper!Evan who's frantically cooking the fish trying to remember how to prepare it the fancy way. Lighthouse keeper!Evan who stumbled out of the house coughing with a charred pan right as you show up for dinner. You chuckling as you ask what happened as if it wasn't obvious enough.

You who takes pity and shows him how to cook with what food he has left. Lighthouse keeper!Evan who's eyes are transfixed as you prepare the meal. The best meal he's ever had. "Don't want your mother hearing you say that." You joke. Lighthouse keeper!Evan shifting uncomfortably as he mentioned that his mother died young never had her cooking.

You who comes over almost everyday from then on teaching him how to cook. Only fair that someone does, don't want the sweet lighthouse keeper starving himself or worse burning down the lighthouse. Lighthouse keeper!Evan who finds himself finding every excuse to keep you here.

Trapper just need something fluffy okay...

[rootsofdread]

Hello! While I had intended to place my second request when my first one was completed, I'm worried you'll close your asks before then, so here we go. A gender neutral reader who steals the killer's melee weapons. It's not a one off thing, no, it's something they do all the time. They grab it and run. I'll leave what killers to you, I want to be surprised, but please do two if you have the time. Sincerely, a wolf.

did three for ya, wolf! :-D

Evan MacMillan / The Trapper:

Evan had lodged his cleaver into a tree to set up some traps unencumbered, he knew he’d be unhappy if he ran into one of the survivors without it, but he figured it was the best way to do it quickly. A little while later, he came back to find it had been ripped out of the bark. The tracks in the dirt were still fresh, he knew you had to have only recently taken it. He huffed. He knew it was a mistake to leave it behind, now one of you has taken it…bear trap in hand, he sets off to find where you’d run off to. He found you almost halfway across the grounds using his cleaver to hack down a wall. His hand twitched.

He’s already an angry man, and taking his weapon just makes him angry. It’s a quick way to set him off rampaging through the grounds slaughtering anyone in his path simply to find where you’ve gone with it. He finds a way without his cleaver, you’ve seen it first-hand. Fortunately, with his weapon, you’re able to do a moderate amount of defending yourself and your teammates — until he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and stares deep into your soul, disapprovingly.

Even though he gets angry, he feels like he has to admire your fighting spirit when you decide to use his own weapon against him. You remind him of himself, in a weird way…and in an even weirder way, he likes that. You’d think he’d come to hate you for taking his things, but it’s quite the opposite.

Max Thompson, Jr. / The Hillbilly:

The first time you’d done it, Max had only set his chainsaw down for a second to throw somebody on a hook. He didn’t even know anyone else was lurking around. When he turned to pick it back up, it was gone. At first, he thought he must’ve misremembered where he put it. He doesn’t have the best memory, and it’s happened before…until he saw you running around in the distance with something clutched in your hand that didn’t look like anything you were supposed to have. He didn’t immediately register that it was his chainsaw, but when he did…to say he was furious would be an understatement.

After this, he’s a little more careful about where he puts his chainsaw and when he puts it there. He checks around corners before setting it down to make sure you’re not hiding nearby to swipe it. Sometimes, you don’t, and he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to chase you down to get it back. Unfortunately, most of the time you do end up getting your hands on it one way or another; he’d be willing to throw away the entire trial just to get it back and throw you on a hook for inconveniencing him.  

He doesn’t appreciate your thievery, but sometimes, he does seem to appreciate having someone to run around with. Nobody else cares much for him; and even though he doesn’t read your stealing as caring, necessarily, you’re still spending time around him, and going out of your way to do so. Some part of him almost, in a way, finds it sweet that you’re doing this.

Talbot Grimes / The Blight:

Talbot had accidentally thrown his cane a ways away once when trying to rush at someone. Miraculously, the hit had landed, but he had no idea where the Bonebuster had gone off to. He glanced around as he carried them over to a hook, trying to see the glint of the top in the moonlight; instead, in it’s place where it had landed, he saw you brandishing it and grinning. The second you realized he was staring at you, you bolted away with it. He cursed at you. He needs that, you insolent twerp, give it back! He immediately threw his victim on the ground and rushed after you.

You’d be surprised how often his cane slips out of his hand, and how many opportunities you have to snag it. Sometimes, he even thinks he’s safe setting it down for just a moment to replenish his energy with his serum. You take every chance you get, and he’s angry every single time, without fail. He’s not one for colorful language, he is a scientist, and a gentleman, after all, but it comes out when he’s running after you. Most of the time, you catch the giggling of other survivors as he curses at you. It’s so unlike him.

That said, he seems to have a strange admiration for your boldness, your courage, your willingness to push the limits and the buttons of himself and, as far as he can assume, other killers. No one else is quite as brave as you are, stealing his weapon and getting close enough to do so, for that, he feels he has to give you credit. He may even be compelled to run experiments: exactly how close are you willing to get?

[semiweirdshipper]

Killers who give the most kisses. Non-binary reader insert. Made for those who love fluff.

(Killers include: Bubba Sawyer. Jeffrey Hawk. Herman Carter. Evan MacMillan. Michael Myers. Max Thompson. Sally Smithson. Carmina Mora).

...

Bubba

Without a doubt, Bubba gives the most kisses. Any time, anywhere, it does not matter. He is always peppering you with kisses.

Oh, you just got back from talking to a friend? Smooch! You've been gone so long (y/n), he missed you. Smooch, smooch, smooch. (Literally, you were only gone for five minutes).

Snoozing? Kiss! You look so cute when you're asleep. He simply can't resist. Even sleeping you deserved all the love and attention he could give. While you're lying there snoozing, he'll lean over and plant gentle kisses all over your hands, arms, chest and face. He loves you so much.

Are you hurt? Oh, prepare for the ultimate overload of kisses. Whether it be a bad day you were suffering, a traumatic event or even if you simply stubbed your toe, Bubba is there to drown you with kisses. There's no escape. You're hurt. He needs to kiss all the sadness and pain away!

Bubba kisses you for pretty much every single reason imaginable. Are you laughing? Kiss! Are you reading? Kiss! Are you eating? Kiss, kiss, kiss! Are you on the toilet? Quick kiss! He can't help it. You make him so happy and he loves you so much, you deserve all the kisses.

Jeffrey

Jeffrey has kind of an oral fixation meaning he loves using his mouth, especially on you. Not a single inch of your body has been spared of his lips. He was always fondling you, pulling you close and kissing whichever area he pleased.

Jeffrey's kisses are more wet and thorough whenever you're alone, so that way he can taste you, enjoy you, make you feel good. He loves your soft skin, loves feeling it beneath his lips and hands. You were his treasure, and he worshipped you like a God.

Due to his shameless variety of kinks, Jeffrey ultimately enjoys kissing the weirdest places on your body like your back, feet, knees and... armpits. Yeah, he was kind of strange, but it just meant that he wasn't afraid to love every inch of you he possibly could. You're his beloved treasure, remember?

While in public, Jeffrey simply liked to pull you close and hold one of your hands to his lips. The smell and taste of your smooth skin comforted him, and he enjoyed layering kisses all over your beautiful fingers. If he was feeling bold, he would even kiss your ears and face to tease you and make you flustered.

It didn't matter who saw. Jeffrey's kisses are a statement of his love and appreciation for you.

Herman

Herman is probably the most romantic kisser there is. He loves taking his time with you, holding you close and pressing your mouths together, kissing slow and passionately.

Kissing Herman could some times last a while. Words could not describe how much he loved tasting you, drawing out the tender moments and making them last. He never used his teeth much, instead preferring to worship your skin with utmost care.

Neck kisses. Herman loves giving you neck kisses. He'll honestly kiss any part of your body you want him to, but your neck was his favorite- it was just so vulnerable and brought out the most gorgeous, succulent reactions from you. Gosh, you were so beautiful to him.

Your hands. Almost every single time you and Herman meet or depart, he always pressed a kiss to your hand. If you two are sitting close, some times he'll lift your hand, press it to his lips and hold it there for a while. Shh, just let him cherish you.

Herman's kisses are the definition of love, passion and appreciation. Not an hour will go by that you aren't kissed by him.

Evan

Due to the harsh conditions he grew up in, Evan isn't very prone to kissing much, but he loves it when you kiss him. Your soft, gentle lips on his mutilated body always made him feel as if he were in heaven, and it was because of that feeling that he fought to return the favor.

It took time and practice, but Evan eventually learned how to kiss you on the lips. He also learned how and where to kiss your body. And the best part? Evan was a fast learner, and when he learned things, he learned how to do them right.

Within weeks he went from being an amateur kisser with no skills to a practical God, kissing you wherever you wanted to be kissed and lavishing your beautiful skin. Some times he would use his teeth- if only to see you gasp and tremble in delight of course.

His favorite area to kiss is your face. You've been so patient with him, and you're so gorgeous and kind and dependable. Your smile lit up his dark world like a beacon. And if your kisses could make him feel as wonderful as they did, then he would always be kissing you back twice as much.

Michael

Talk about a five-star hickey designer. This man has no limitations when it came down to marking what was his. Does Michael love to kiss you? Ha, just look at the light red marks all over your body. Kinda goes without saying, you know?

Michael is the type of person who likes everyone else to know that you belong to him, and what better way to make a statement than to ravish you with deep, passionate kisses? And that was only a fraction of the reason why he kissed you so feverishly all the time.

The biggest reason Michael loved marking your skin so much was because of the noises and expressions you made. You were practically a saint, beautiful and delicate. Whenever he sucked on a spot that made you gasp, he was always filled with immediate satisfaction.

Safety and reassurance was another big reason. Whenever Michael needed comfort, he would lie on top of you and kiss your neck, chest and wrists- all the places where he could feel your beloved heartbeat. You were his love, his life, and he needed you always.

And when he kissed your lips, he was reminded that there was someone in this world who saw him as more than just a monster. You'd probably never know it, but Michael's kisses meant more than you could ever imagine.

Max

Whenever you first introduced him to the gentle, sweet, overwhelmingly loving luxury of kisses, Max was helpless against giving you his own form of kisses in return. Because his mouth can't shut all the way without discomfort, Max opt to pulling you close and pressing either his nose or chin gently where he wanted to kiss.

Get used to the pleasant sounds of soft growls, because Max always wanted to be kissing you. His favorite thing? You sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped around you so that he could lean his crooked mouth against the side of your head in what he considered a long lasting kiss.

Max isn't like most people. He's not perfect, and there are traditional things he can't do, but that doesn't stop him from doing what he can.

Occasionally, despite the pain, he'll close his lips together and give you little pecks on the mouth. Anything to show you how much he loved you. Whenever you smiled at him in pride and joy and praised him, he became instant mash-potatoes in your arms. More love please?

Max may not be the best kisser, but he's definitely the best at proving just how much he was willing to be the best he could ever be for you. Because he loved you. And, kisses or not, he would never stop loving you.

Sally

Oh, Sally loves giving you kisses all the time. Try leaving the room without a kiss and she'll either grumble or give you sad puppy eyes. Come on, Sal, really? You were literally just going to turn the lamp on.

Your cheeks are her favorite things to kiss. They're just so soft and warm, and she loved cuddling against you and pressing her lips there, holding you close and breathing in your comforting scent. Ah, you're so amazing, (y/n), she loved you so much.

When it comes down to kissing other, more intimate body parts, Sally is a little bit on the shy side, timid and uncertain of herself. What if she embarrasses you? Or what if you don't enjoy it? You've learned that the easiest fix for the solution is turning the lights off.

She's too shy to kiss in public, but when you're in a dark room by yourselves, she's much, much more open. Honestly, you're in for a world of treats. Sally may be sweet, but behind the curtains she's quite the hungry devil. Prepare yourself.

Sally has her insecurities, but around you she's willing to fight them in order of showing just how much she loved you.

Carmina

What's worse than not having a tongue? Not having a tongue to apologize.

Carmina is a special case. She loves kisses, and she especially loves kissing you, but there were dilemmas some times. Like when her mouth dripped ink- who wants to be kissed by that? No, you can't convince her it's okay. She's too embarrassed and ashamed.

So what does she do in replace of her real kisses? She summons sweet, friendly crows to kiss you for her. One by one they land on your arms and gently peck your nose, ears and chin, cawing softly in appreciation for they love you just as much as Carmina does.

When she is able to kiss you, she kisses your head, hands and chest. Because of her ink-arms, you had to support yourself, but it was no mind. As long as she got to love you she was happy.

Carmina loves it when you kiss her. Being basked in your gentle, loving attention made her feel normal, appreciated and worthy. She felt happiness and reassurance. Sure, some times she got down because of her mutilation, but you're understanding always helped her push through.

So... Accept these pecks of love and gratitude, *caw!*