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s4turnzbarzzz · 8 months

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michael myers (dead by daylight) nsfw alphabet

requested: no

Tw: smut

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

michael wont stick around after sex, your on your own to clean up

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

he likes his arms because he knows how strong he is

his favorite body part of yours is your neck because he loves the sounds you make when he chokes you

C= Cum (anything that has to do with cum basically)

he will cum anywhere but prefers to creampie you, he likes the way his cum drips from your overly used hole

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

he loves it if you try to fight back but hell never show it

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

hes not very experienced but he learns fast

F= Favorite position

missionary, he loves how he can see himself thrusting in and out of you, he also likes that he can choke you and see your facial expressions

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

hes serious, not because hes a dick or anything, he just struggles to laugh if you crack a joke and doesnt see the point in being aything but serious during sex

H= Hair (grooming habits)

he isnt groomed and he doesnt care if thats what you prefer. hes never had the time to focus on that and youll just have to accept it

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

hes rough with you, he only really has sex to get himself off but he will subconsiously learn what you like and will eventually get you off too

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

he doesnt really jack off, why would he need to now that he has you?

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

dacryphyllia (crying), knifeplay, bdsm, choking, manhandling, hair pulling, primal play, voyeurism, cnc

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

anywhere, as long as youre the last survivor

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick)

he gets off on stalking and chasing you, especially if you put up a good fight

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

hell try anything once, but you have to suggest it

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

he prefers recieving because he knows hes in control. if you ask him really nicely im sure hell eat you out though

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

he goes fast and hard, he has really high stamina so i hope youre ready for at least 6 rounds and then some after he gives you a break

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

he prefers to take his time with you but wont tyrn down the oppertunity to have a quicky

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

he will try new things but you have to suggest something first for him to consider it

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

hes got really high stamina so he can definently go 6-7 rounds without a break, but if he takes a break its 10-12 rounds

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

hes not a fan of toys but if you want them hell let you use them on yourself

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

he'll tease you but he wont tease himself or let you tease him

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

the most youll hear from him is panting and the occasional groan, hes not loud by any means

W= Wild card (nsfw headcanon of any sort)

he would absolutely take photos of you after youre all fucked out

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

11 inches hard, 7 inches soft and hes girthy with afew larger veins un the bottom and sides. his dick also hangs a little bit even when hes fully hard (good luck♡)

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

his sex drive isnt super high but if he sees you doing something hell get hard from watching you while youre oblivious

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

im not sure he sleeps at all actually but no he doesnt sleep afterwards, he just gets up and leaves to do something else

#slasher fandom #dead by daylight #michael myers x reader smut #michael myers dbd #dbd x reader #smut #nsft alphabet

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the-husbando · 11 months

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No More Tears.

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gothghostiie · 4 months

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Michael Myers cock worship… Eyes heavy lidded with lust as you huff his scent, his hand tight on your throat. I need him

the way I hardly get any requests for him is CRIMINAL so thank you <3

hand on the back of your head, pressing your face against his cock after a long day, making sure you really inhale his scent, get addicted to it

choking you when you pull away, getting all up in your face and shaking his head slowly before pressing your face back into his crotch before making you worship it

you better do well unless you want him to shove his cock down your throat, learn to appreciate it >:(

#gothghostiie #ask ghostiie #halloween #Michael myers #michael myers dbd #dbd #dead by daylight #michael myers x reader #the shape #the shape x reader #nsft

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aceviscontiswife · 9 months

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Truth Or Dare

This was a random idea I came up with… I like it, hopefully you guys do too!

Warnings: Talk of sex

What do killers do during their time off of trials? Some sharpen their weapons, some practice for their next trials, and some… well, some play truth or dare.

It was all started by Amanda, the Pig, who sat down at the killers’ campfire and asked aloud:

“Truth or dare?”

Some killers stared at Amanda with a face of pure confusion and annoyance (unlike Michael, who stood unfazed, staring off into nothingness). Finally, someone spoke up. It was Danny, who normally wasn’t at the killers’ campfire, as much as it seems like he might be.

“Truth. Make it good.” Amanda didn’t respond for quite some time, deep in thought as she thought of the perfect thing to ask the Danny Johnson. Other than the cute face hiding behind the hot mask, he was a mystery. When Amanda had come up with the perfect question, she speaks up a bit louder than before.

“Have you ever slept with anyone in the realm?” Amanda’s question seemed to stun everyone at the campfire, everyone except Danny. He simply laughs and shakes his head. “My slate’s clean. Can’t say I wouldn’t, though.”

A few killers grunt in agreement, yourself included. Then, Amanda turns to you. “Truth or dare?” You already knew your answer, and based on the mischievous look in Amanda’s eyes, you could tell she knew too.

“Dare.”

Amanda giggles, rubbing her hands together like some sort of evil movie villain before giving you your dare.

“I dare you to sleep with one of us killers. Just the ones at the campfire, and since I’m nice, you get to pick.”

Oh. Well… you look around the campfire, taking in all of your options. Michael, who was now death-staring you with an unreadable look in his dark, seemingly black eyes. Frank and Joey, who were half-paying attention to what was going on, and half-paying attention to the knives they were sharpening. Danny… definitely fuckable. Amanda, duh, but who knows if halfway through she’ll ‘truth or dares’ you. And finally, Evan, who seemed more than uninterested in what was going on.

You had to make a decision. Thankfully none of them were too bad, right?

“I choose…”

#dead by daylight #danny johnson #ghostface dbd #ghostface #danny johnson dbd #trapper dbd #evan macmillan #evan dbd #frank morrison #dbd legion #frank dbd #joey dbd #amanda young #amanda dbd #the pig dbd #michael myers #myers dbd #michael myers dbd

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sea-bunnii · 2 years

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Michael stop embarrassing your little sister 🤭

#dbd #dbd art #dead by daylight #art #dbd fanart #michael myers #michael myers dbd #laurie strode #halloween #dbd survivor #slashers #lovetheirsiblingrelationship

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bluemaple · 2 years

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I did a redraw of my other Michael Myers drawing. This one I did on my tablet on procreate the old was from my phone 🍂🔪

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enfermeiraodete · 7 months

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#halloween fanart #halloween #michael myers #michael myers fanart #michael myers dbd #digital art #digital illustration #drawing #fanart #art #foryou #foryoupage #artists on tumblr #happy halloweeeeeeen

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minx067 · 2 years

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Chapter 8 of GOH. All chapters currently released and up to date on my AO3! 🥰

Thank you again for your continued love and support and I hope you enjoy the chapter and all others to come! If you didn't catch it before, I painted a portrait of our lovely Michael without that pesky mask to hide his sweet face. Go check that out if you haven't already, it's the 📌 post at the top.

Michael's headed for the one place that calls to him, but not before he decicdes to make a quick stop along the way for something that we all know he loves to use on his victims and some unfortunate soul will pay for such a visit.

Taglist: @megafrost4 @dead-bxtch @sugarstarxoxo @ireallyhateithere2 @necas7325 @michaels-orange-mask @vapurrrrwave @myers-meadow @goosecadet @liv-victoriano @mz-bats @myersobsessed @chaotic-am @utena-akashiya @macabrecakes @eldaryan Ask to be added to the taglist 💜

Universe/Fandom: Halloween 1978 (Non-RZ) Rating: Mature/Adult. Minors keep your distance. Chapters: 8/? Chapter Triggers/Warnings: Strong language, Strong depictions of violence/gore, angst, knifeplay, blood-play/consumption, masochism/sadism, marking, possessive behaviour. Overall themes: Tension, Drama, Slow burn, Abuse, Strong Language, Past trauma, Manipulation, Strong depictions of Violence/Gore, Phsycological/ Physical trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Mental Illness, Murder, Romance, Angst, Loss, Death, Comfort, Mild humour, Romance, Friendship, Fluff, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, mild Non-con themes, Knifeplay, Stalking, Marking, Obsessive/Posessive behaviour, Choking, Explicit Sexual content. Reader details: Female, first-person perspective. Characters: Female reader, Michael Myers (Non-RZ), Samuel Loomis, Laurie Strode, Jed Perkins (Non-canon OC), Jamie Harris (Non-canon OC), Parker Reed (Non-canon OC), Josh Hewit (Non-canon OC), Erin White (Non-canon OC)

Ghost of Haddonfield: Chapter eight

Night has fallen. The streets are quiet and empty, lit by the subtle white-orange glow of street lamps steadily growing brighter the darker the velvety black sky turns, dusted with bright glimmering white stars. Although, it's just a typical night for Michael Myers. There's one thing on his mind and he's headed straight for it, one single place, and he's known its comfort his entire life even from the solidarity of a small yet clean white cell. To him, it's home. To everyone else, it's just a rundown and abandoned old house now that once held a lively and bustling young family, cut short by the twisted mind of a sick young boy. It's the place where he ended his sister's life, the place he would forever become known as Haddonfield's most infamous psychopath.

Legends would say the heart of such beings died in their chest cavities long ago, that they putrefied and made a heavy slime about their lungs as thick as underworld tar. That's how they became killers and perhaps why. Some say their emptiness is their madness, that they take life over and over as if they may possess the hearts and souls, yet never so, and to be healed someone pure has to love each of them, to reform their heart as if it was the finest of clay, then set it to beating with pure nature's essence. So until they find such a being to forgive all that they have done and all that they might do, to break the universal scales and set them free to begin anew, the killing goes on and on and on. True evil has no mortality though, no weakness. It has no feeling, no emotion, no limit and no shame. Nobody knows what fuels it though, just as Loomis could not understand nor explain what sick pleasure Michael derived from such savage and uncontrolled bloodlust.

Samuel Loomis. He remembers that name and face so vividly. How could he forget? He spent years assessing and observing him, listening with deaf ears and a gaze as dead and emotionless as one could remain in the presence of an obsessed old man who could not fathom the inner workings of Michael's mind. Nobody can. Nobody ever will and it will always remain so because he likes it that way. When the time comes, the crazed doctor will meet his end at the hands of his sole obsession; on his knees with a stomach full of blood, but not before he makes Loomis his human pin-cushion first.

Over the dry fall leaves each of his heavy boots crackles upon, and then to the sound of crinkling grass as he stalks and weaves through the back of shaded properties, his steps equatable to someone who has not yet learnt to walk quietly or much rather has no care for it, instead relying on the verges to muffle the sound. Each footfall is evenly spaced from the last with the most perfect rhythm one after the other. Michael prefers to stick to grassy pathways where the shadows of the night may easily conceal his movements, an even wiser decision now seeing that police would be on high alert. He has no intention of returning to the wards anytime soon. His fingers coil and uncoil at his sides just from the thought of preparing for yet another killing, all the brutal ways he could discover to slaughter another living and breathing being just to feel the life drain from their body.

Michael paces onward but stops abruptly in the shaded back garden of a random house. Its back porch lights are on, dimly illuminating the back door entrance. The muffled sound of a TV playing from within can be heard even from where he stands, and it's the perfect night for some bloodshed. He stands in the darkness as a cool breeze rustles the trees and bushes around him, plucking frail leaves from their branches and whisking them through the air, so very alive and moving compared to his otherwise completely unmoving frame. After a moment of simply observing he begins to slowly approach the door, his footsteps lighter and more precise than moments ago, before silently peering into the window. His eyes search through the murky darkness, only faintly illuminated by the glow of the television from the room opposite and establishing quickly what seems to be the kitchen.

He steps away from the window to glance around stiffly as though evaluating a way inside. He reaches for the door handle in the hopes that perhaps the owner hadn't been bright enough to lock it, but upon turning it comes to find it locked. Although prying the window or door open with brute force would be a simple task for someone with his strength, it was far from quiet. Just as he turns to find another route in, something catches his eye. On the ground beside the porch steps is a small spindly, dried shrub with a red brick nestled snugly within it, yet it's placed at a strange angle and slightly raised. Upon bending down, he promptly pushes the brick aside, only to discover a silver key beneath it, which he removes before moving the brick back into place with the key, slipping it into the keyhole and twisting it. With a brisk click, the door unlocks and Michael pushes it open, enters and silently shuts it behind him. Glancing around, his eyes search the small kitchen.

Despite the absence of food, the lingering aroma of a previously cooked roast dinner drifts into the orifices of his pale mask, filling his nostrils with the delectable scent and urging him to inhale deeply, but food isn't what he's come for.

Throughout the dimly-lit kitchen, Michael paces with slow, light steps, opening and rummaging through various drawers and cabinets as he goes. Then he stops, casting his eyes to the nearby knife block on the counter to his right. The sound of the television in the lounge is loud enough to keep whoever is watching it preoccupied if they weren't otherwise somehow asleep, leaving Michael free to scour for whatever he was in search of.

His fingertips land on the first knife out of a total of six, unsheathing it from the holder to reveal a rather disappointingly short and unremarkable blade that was clearly well used before slipping it back into the cork. Taking hold of the fifth knife, he slides it from the block, as he would expect that each would be larger to a previous one. His fingers tighten around the solid black handle and proceed to rotate it in his grasp as though carefully inspecting it. It's the ideal shape and length that would prove utterly lethal without being too bulky or large. Its silver blade shimmers brilliantly, virtually untouched yet fully prepared to rip through flesh and spill rich red pools of blood-a most magnificent weapon to use to his heart's sick and twisted content. Of course Michael could be far more creative with his weapon of choice, but just as his heart and mind held an inseparable connection to his home, as did the very simple yet effective kitchen knife.

One final glance over the glimmering blade is all Michael needs before padding silently into the lounge. A few moments ago, it might have been just a little bit of noisy comedy from the television, but is now quickly replaced by the bloodcurdling, terrified screams of an old woman as Michael hacks and slashes at her without hesitation. The knife cuts cleanly through her frail arms braced so hopelessly in front of her as he stabs in swift repetitive motions over and over and over again.

Despite not being entirely calculated, each stab is controlled enough not to be fatal. It's brutal, feral even. With every stab sends the crying old woman stumbling further back, clumsily throwing items such as a vase or even the nearby telephone which Michael swats to the side aggressively before lurching at her and viciously throwing her through the antique coffee table perched beside the armchair. Michael stands idly for a moment simply savouring the sounds of yet another victim, watching her writhe and wail helplessly on the floor. His fingers remain tight around the knife handle and his masked gaze stern on her wounds, how her arms are littered with deep, bleeding gashes that had already dribbled throughout the lounge and soiled the soft woven ivory rugs, soaking through to polished pine floorboards.

The floorboards squeak and bend as he paces forward with slow, heavy steps. In one fluid motion Michael's knife swiftly pierces through the woman's outstretched hand; the sheen of crimson coated metal glints in the light before it is ripped from her and elicits a horrifying scream from her lungs. He plunges the knife through her palm a second time, a third, a fourth before snatching her wrist and driving the knife through her arm. There's blood splattered all over the wall, staining the armchair, the rugs, pooling on the floor and reflecting his pale white mask.

There is no end to the screaming, and neither will it come until Michael is satisfied. The events in the institution were tame. It was simply child's play, a demonstration of what he had planned. This was just the beginning of the havoc he would wreak, and he'll gladly contribute to watching each and every one of these people drop like flies until there's noone left.

Michael's coming home and Haddonfield is simply his playground for a bloody massacre.

#michael x reader #michael myers dbd #michael audrey myers #michael #og michael myers #michael myers #michael my beloved #daddy myers #micheal myers x reader #myers #reader pov #horror slashers #horror fiction #samuel loomis #halloween 1978 #halloween 2021 #halloween #Ghost of Haddonfield

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