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s3thwrit3sstuff · 11 months

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❝ Helping hand ❞

Corey Cunningham x gn!reader | drabble | nsfw, smut |

warnings: masturbation, handjobs

req: could you please do Person A (gn reader) accidentally walking on Person B (Corey) masturbating and Person A and B’s first time together🥰

Accidentally walking in on him and jerking one out was a shock to both of you.

To Corey more than you — he had an overbearing mother who insisted on him not locking his doors throughout his childhood and then his awkward teenage years.

He was used to straining his ears to listen to every creak of the floorboards despite wearing headphones over his ears. The door being ajar did little to stop his hormonal self, so he is pretty confident in his ability to jerk off without anyone catching him.

That and the fact that he terrorizes Haddonfield like a bloodthirsty shadow. Most, if not all, of his victims, don't know he's there until it's too late. Even you don't stir from sleep when he sneaks into your home to gaze at you while you sleep.

You'd think with his impressive resume he would be the last person to be caught with his cock in his hands and a picture of his lover in the other.

There'd be this atmosphere of surprise blanketing the both of you. Corey's eyes are so wide you swear you see the mortification in them. His fingers twitch and pull away from his dick, mouth shaping to form words but none are uttered.

Your eyes dart to the Polaroid he has in his hand. It's a cute photograph of you in the kitchen in nothing but a pair of boxers and nursing a mug of your favourite morning drink.

Corey would tell you it's the way your eyes are still hazy — barely edged off sleep clearly written all over your face.

He'd say that your loose grip on the mug made his perverted head think of your fingers wrapped around the base of his penis.

If he was feeling brave he might even mention the way your lips look as soft as clouds and the pose you're in have them pushed against the porcelain rim of the mug — just about to take a sip. It makes him wish you had your mouth on the tip of his dick instead, he wanted to wet it with pre-cum and watch as they part around him.

But Corey says nothing. His brain clicks as you drop your hand from the door handle.

"Fuck! Fuck! I - I can explain!" he's raising from the chair, hastily throwing your picture to the side while he grabs at his sweatpants that were bunched around his knees.

"Oh god — I'm sorry!" you spur to life at his embarrassed display, not missing the sight of your picture that flutters towards your direction thanks to Corey's panic to cover up.

"I'll be in the kitchen!" "Wuh - Wait!"

The door slams close. Corey curses as he places a palm on the wood, cheeks as red as Sebastian's shell. On the other side of the door, your back is flushed on the wood, a hand covering your mouth as your heart beats out of your chest.

When both of you recover, he makes his way to the kitchen.

Fuck, why are you holding the same mug?

"Corey," your voice has his skin reddening all over again. He reaches for you and he's relieved you don't pull away.

"You washed your hand, right?"

With a groan, he hides his face in the crook of your neck as he nods.

"You're not mad...right?" Now it is your turn to blush. You shake your head, comfortingly squeezing his shoulders.

The night ended well, the takeout you'd brought over to eat with Corey was a little lukewarm but still edible, and you laugh about it before you drifted off to sleep.

But what makes Corey go wide-eyed was when you sleepily mumble to him;

"We should do it. I wanna do it, with you".

"Do, what?"

The smile you attempt to hide as you nuzzle your face into his chest makes his heart double in speed.

"Goodnight, Corey," was the last thing you said before you were off to dreamland.

Your first time together was something Corey could never forget.

He thinks your sleepy mumbles were just that — sleepy mumbles. You never bring it up again and he is far too embarrassed to even open his mouth relating to such a topic when it goes hand-in-hand with the fact he got caught with his pants down.

Besides, your routine didn't deviate at all and it was nice. The domesticity of the suburbs really has that effect on people, huh?

All this to say, when your first time with Corey happens, it surprises him.

"Hey" you plant a kiss on his cheek, the grin you wear infectious. "Ready to go?" he hands you a helmet and you nod as he places your things in the storage compartment and then saddles his bike.

He brings you to your favourite dating spot. It was a bummer that after murdering the radio host show, dates on the roof had to be postponed for a couple of weeks but now the yellow tape was gone.

The climb is filled with giggles. Setting down the picnic blanket, pillows and duvet — the weather is chilly but nothing a few leftover candles couldn't help along with a Bluetooth speaker.

After downing a few fries and beers, you're seated on his lap lip-syncing the song playing when you're suddenly kissing him. He's reciprocating, of course, but you're slowing down. Then, your tongues are tangling together and why are your hips moving like that?

Corey's not new to the sex scene. He knows what sex is and how to do it but everything that involves you has his very existence melt in awe. He was religious in his worship of you; to see you this way? With the night sky behind you and the moon just over your shoulder?

His hands slide up your shirt. Effectively leaving goose flesh in his trail as his mouth works on mottling your neck with his teeth and tongue.

He's whispering praises. You're shuddering as he works you open with his fingers and he doesn't even notice the tent in his pants as he feels your velvety walls clench around him.

"Come on, baby"

"Corey — Oh fuck, Corey, oh fuck oh fuck —"

"Thaaat's it, just like that. Oh, you feel so good, baby"

He has you on your back after licking his fingers clean. The blanket protects you from the flooring and Corey hides you from the heavens.

He's careful as he makes you his.

The building is remote from the rest of the population of Haddonfield — but you're trying to be polite.

That won't do.

Corey groans out your name as he breaches into you. He's braced on his elbows, the tip of his nose against yours and his bruised lips is connected to yours with a string of saliva.

He's gentle as he rocks his hips. Never looking away from your face. At one point, the very air you're breathing in is just Corey's and he relishes in every second of having you like this.

Corey didn't stop once the both of you had orgasmed. He wants to taste you on his tongue and despite what weak protests you make he chides you and makes you throw your head back as his tongue makes your thighs shudder.

By the time he's had his fill and you've come so many times you're sure even the stars are applauding you.

He gathers you into his arms. You hear his heartbeat and feel somewhat comforted that it's just as fast as yours.

"...Was that better?" You purr while Corey peeks at you, still attempting to catch his breath as he tilts his head.

"Was that better?" Your chin is on your arm, chewing on your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing. Corey strokes your arm patiently.

"Better than...?"

"Your hand —"

"Fuck off," Corey rolls his eyes and playfully ruffles your hair. Your giggles sound just as beautiful as your moans, he shuts you up by pecking your lips until you roll onto your back instead.

"It was better," you say in a sing-song tune that makes Corey groan as he covers his eyes with his arm.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham x yn #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher fic #slasher x yn #halloween ends #gn reader #gn! reader #gender neutral reader #corey cunningham x gn reader

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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Laid back 2: V-Day vibes

3.2k | Corey Cunningham x Reader | NSFW

You can read this as a one-shot, but it's the reader from Laid back. Some time has passed since then. Gender neutral.

Corey is so desperate for you that he doesn’t even notice the vibrator sitting on your nightstand in plain view. It's bright pink and about the size of his gorgeous nose. You wish it was the same shape, too. When the doorbell rang earlier than usual, you were, um, really not expecting it.

If you want to make him whimper and beg 👀. . . It also gets fluffy AF later. 💘 Happy Valentine's Day, Corey fans! I 💗 y'all.

@ethanhoewke (💯concept) @wolvesandvampires

Beefcake Corey art by @cordelium 💞

NSFW - Sexual content

Half-assed self-beta, sorry

It's your first Valentine's Day together. Even though you know he's not that comfortable in public – for good reason – Corey would have been willing to take you anywhere you wanted. He really loves you, even if he hasn't said it. You told him you'd prefer to just do something laid back and the two of you agreed not to get each other gifts. He's coming over to your house and you'll make dinner together.

Corey is so, so sweet. You just want to squeeze him sometimes. He's so HOT though, too. Under that shy fluffy exterior, his body is unreal. He seems to only get stronger. It remains a turn-on that he's unassuming from the outside, and meanwhile you know he's a total stud. He's solid as hell - in all the right places, too.

You're lying on your bed thinking about everything you want to do to Corey when your doorbell rings earlier than you expect. You pull on your pants and button them as you jog downstairs excitedly. But it’s not Corey. It’s a stranger. There’s a van from Ben’s Hardware parked outside. You answer the door and the man asks where you’d like the delivery. You tell him he might have the wrong house because you didn’t order anything. He looks at his clipboard.

Before you get it sorted out, you hear the whir of Corey's bicycle coming to a halt. The truck was blocking your view. Corey is huffing and puffing like he was in a real hurry.

He gets off his bike and adjusts his glasses as he addresses the delivery man. “Um, on the porch, probaby, would be great,” he says and points around the side of your wraparound porch. “Just give us one sec first,” he tells the guy. Corey looks down and smiles broadly. He's obviously responsible for this delivery. You can't imagine what it is though - it's from a hardware store?

“We said we weren’t getting each other anything,” you smile and put your hands on your hips in fists. He shrugs. He seems really excited about whatever it is.

Corey parks his bike. He’s in a hurry to get inside but still stops to give you a big bear hug first. His chest heaves against you and you inhale his scent - musk, motor oil, and a hint of aftershave. Maybe a little more aftershave than usual today. Ugh, he's so cute. He pulls you inside, still catching his breath, while the delivery man goes back to the truck.

Inside, Corey puts down his backpack and kisses you hello. He tastes minty. It doesn't matter how many times you've kissed - His lips against yours give you a full-body rush. He smiles into your mouth as he kisses you again. He's even giddier than usual to see you.

You ask him how he is and he says, “uh, actually pretty thirsty, it was quite a ride.” He keeps looking toward the window. Is he trying to distract you? God, he’s adorable. It occurs to you this might be the first time he's had a real Valentine.

You go to the kitchen to grab him a chocolate milk and come back and sit on the couch with him. He thanks you. He opens the milk and chugs some. You hear the delivery man’s footsteps and Corey abruptly takes off his jacket. He knows how much you love to see his husky, muscular body emerge from a jacket. He takes off his sweater, too, leaving just a Henley. You run your hand over the bulge of his bicep and nuzzle your head into his neck then give him a peck just below his ear. He holds your hand.

You meant it when you said all you wanted was to spend time with him. You're relieved he didn't show up with a bouquet of flowers or a teddy bear, but what could he have possibly ordered from the hardware store? What's even stranger is that you got him something from the same exact store and that's not exactly a normal place to buy a Valentine. But there's no way you got each other the same thing - It wouldn't be possible.

The footsteps get louder outside and Corey tenses a little. You pull back and look toward the window innocently, curious what he might do to distract you. He takes your head in both hands, looks back and forth between your eyes, and his lips smash into yours uncharacteristically aggressively. His tongue breaches your mouth almost right away and his body pushes you down on the couch. Instant butterflies between your legs.

He tastes and feels amazing. You almost forget anyone is outside. When he finally breaks for air, you say "Corey?" and look at him in astonishment. He says "I'm just happy to see you," and a twitch against your thigh tells you it's true.

"I'm happy to see you too," you say and kiss him deeply again.

You hear more footsteps and the heavy slap of something hitting the ground. In a low, sexy voice, Corey suggests “wanna go upstairs?” You don’t hesitate at all.

You ascend the stairs in front of him and he follows close behind you. He slides his hand in between your thighs lightly, then at the top of the stairs, he slides his hand further and massages you between your legs from behind. When you turn around to face him, there’s something different in his eyes. This may have started as a diversion but he's definitely wanting you bad now. He kisses you again in the hall, while slowly walking you toward your room. The truck loudly starts and drives away, but he doesn't stop kissing you, feeling you.

Corey is so desperate for you that he doesn’t even notice the vibrator sitting on your nightstand in plain view. It's bright pink and probably about the size of his gorgeous nose, not that you've thought about that. You wish it was the same shape, too. When the doorbell rang early, you were, um, really not expecting it. The driver probably wondered why you were blushing.

On your bed, Corey latches onto your neck and lays his pelvis into yours. Oh, he's very happy to see you. You continue like this for a few minutes, and you're both just throbbing.

He isn't wearing a belt. You reach into his jeans and massage him through his briefs. He moans softly and there’s a rush of blood to your core. His massive hand comes between your legs and makes your zipper look small. He unbuttons and unzips you. You both take off your pants in a frenzy then he lays back into you again and you roll your hips against each other in rhythm. You take off his henley and he strips you down.

Oh, wow. He is SO fine. His pecs are pumped up, his arms are thick and veiny, his neck is so muscular. Your hands are all over him as you kiss and suck each other's face and neck.

After a few more minutes, it’s unbearably hot and heavy. You slip your hand inside his briefs and he moans again. God, when he moans, it just does something to you. Goosebumps prickle across your whole body and you’re dripping. You could probably come just from hearing him alone - his heavy breathing, his sighs, an occasional whimper, the way he says "fuck" when he'd about to come because he never wants it to end.

Corey reaches to your nightstand and opens the drawer. Before he reaches for a condom, he asks you if you want to do it. He does a double take at the vibrator and you see a small smirk creep onto his mouth, but he forces it away. You hesitate and for a moment because you have an idea. He looks confused and concerned. He comes back fully on the bed and cups your face with his hand.

"Sorry," he laughs. "I don't know what's gotten into me." Your hips rise to meet his and you wrap your legs around his ass, bringing your throbbing groins together again.

"I love it," you say and fluff his curls with your hand.

"Yeah?" He asks and smiles down at you as his head sways into your hand.

“Up for something new?” you ask.

“I’d do anything to make you feel good,” he breathes as his hard girth swells against you. You're aching to hear him feel good.

You take the vibrator from your nightstand. It's one of the small ones that can go in your underwear and it has a remote control but you don't have to use it.

"I was thinking about you earlier," you say saucily.

He smiles shyly and puts his glasses on the nightstand. "You don't have to say that," he says.

"Oh but I was," you say, running your free hand over his pecs. "Um, have you seen yourself? I mean surely you've felt yourself," you say as your hand trails down to his thigh then hooks around and cups an ass cheek on the way up his back.

"Do you trust me?" you ask.

"You know I do," he says. You reach down, place the vibrator in your underwear, and pick up the little remote control. You pull him back in against you, your legs wrapping around him needily. The vibrator is between you and his lower shaft. As you kiss, you turn it on the lowest setting. He jolts and gasps. He freezes for a moment, then kisses you again and his hips rock into you. He sighs and the vibration is pressed harder into you. Fuck. You want him inside you bad, but you want to see this through.

You wrap your arms around his hulking back and pull him in so his broad chest closer. His hands are all over you - slowly but firmly. He breathes so heavily. You roll your hips into him and he moans. This happens every time your bodies press into each other and it becomes rhythmic but no moan is exactly the same. Sometimes he winces with an "ahh," or mumbles "yeah" into your cheek.

He nibbles your neck, and as he switches to the other side of your neck, you lift your hips into him and his face looks almost in pain. You imagine you probably look the same - the tension in your core is unbearable. But you really want to come with him, not before him.

You reach between you and take the toy out of your underwear. You put down the remote and turn it off while you pull down his briefs and you both kick off your undies. Your bare, intimate skin meets, and even without the vibration, you both moan. You're both wet. You're both throbbing. He kisses your chest then takes a nipple in his mouth.

His chest meets yours. You hold the toy at the base of his balls and ask, "is this okay?"

He nods and you wait a second and he starts to say "yes," but he cuts himself off with a deep moan when you turn it back on. His nipples harden against you and you feel his whole body shiver. He grinds his rock-hard erection into you and you're starting to twitch. You know you won't be able to hold off much longer.

He's kissing you again when you increase the intensity and he shudders. You take it away, edging you both. He looks at you like no one has ever looked at you before. His pupils have overtaken his irises and his voice cracks as he says "God, you're hot" and you can't help but smile. He kisses you like he's hanging onto you for dear life.

You reach farther and press the vibrator harder against him, and he whimpers "oh god," panting, "don't you wanna, do you want-"

"No, we can fuck later-"

"-God, I want to fuck you so bad," he whimpers. You've never heard him say anything like wanting to "fuck you." It slipped out like he couldn't help it. It's so hot coming from him. Your core flutters with a desperate need for release. He whines your name. "I want you so bad." He's practically begging, but even his whining is low and gruff. "Please." He is begging. It hardens your nipples and your core is pinched so tight with tension.

"I want you too, baby" you say, grinding into him.

He drags his engorged member against you in just the right place and you roll your hips up into him.

You turn up the intensity and his face contorts more. He whimpers your name and nudges you, pleadingly, right at the entrance of where he wants to be. God, he feels so good.

His Hail Mary almost works, but you grab his shaft and bring it back against you where it was, massaging it with the vibrator. "Uuggh," he whines and puts his face in the crook of your neck. He sucks your neck so hard, then comes up and faces you.

As he pulls his head back to kiss you, a tear falls on your shoulder. His eyes are watery, his cheeks are hot and wet. It's so hot. You run your fingers through his curls. They're a little damp with sweat. You marvel at him as your bodies move in rhythm and vibrate together. He kisses your lips, his tongue desperately seeking yours.

"Fuck," he exhales gruffly, pinching his wet eyelashes together so tight, and that sends you.

You grab his hand tight in yours and dig your head into the pillow as you unravel. Your back arches and your stomach and hips jolt up into his. You feel him pulse against you. He groans and cries in sync with your climax, and you come even harder. His hot cum glazes your lower abdomen, and he stills himself against you. You continue to pulse against his cock as his balls empty onto you. You both come for what feels like at least a full minute before you turn it off.

He takes a few seconds to stop whimpering, while you enjoy aftershocks. You hold his head to your chest and stroke his hair. He brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it.

"That was amazing," he says, still panting. He reaches over you to grab a tissue and clean you up.

"You were so hot," you gush. "You want to fuck me that bad, huh?" You tease him. He blushes.

"Yeah, sorry," he laughs shyly, even though you're always trying to bait him into talking dirty.

"No. That was really hot," you say as he nuzzles his curly head into the hollow of your neck. Honestly, it's even hotter than it slipped out in the heat of the moment rather than you prying it out of him.

Eventually, you get hungry. You both freshen up and go downstairs to make pizza - a very laid back date, indeed. The afterglow doesn't leave either of you as you knead the homemade dough. You both get covered in flour and take a polaroid to mark the occasion. You stick it to the fridge with a magnet.

Corey presses the pizza dough out into a heart. You look at it, then look at him. He's smiling shyly, concentrating on the dough. Your fingers under his chin turn his face toward you.

"I love you," you tell him for the first time. He does a double take. His face gets serious and he swallows.

"I love you too," he says. "So much." He smiles again and you laugh not to cry.

He gives you the lushest, longest closed mouth kiss and you embrace.

He says, "Like. Sometimes, I don't know how my heart can even hold this much love. I love you so much, it's like." He sniffles. "When you say you love me too, it's like." His eyes are teary. "I don't know, like my heart is overflowing my body. It's more than I knew I could feel." You wipe tears off his cheeks and kiss him again.

He's not going to ruin the moment, but you know from prior talks that part of him still feels unworthy. You just stroke his hair.

"I feel the same," you say.

He nuzzles his head into your neck and you stroke his hair. You're facing the fridge and see the polaroid has developed. In the photo, you both have a rosy glow. There's flour in his hair and on your face. You're looking at the camera, kind of. Poorly. You're smiling wide. His eyes are on you. The way he's looking at you in that photo is. . .God, it makes you even more sure of what you're giving him for Valentine's day.

He composes himself and kisses you again.

"Ok," you say. "I have something for you."

He jokingly scoffs since you already gave him a hard time about getting something for you.

"It was only a few dollars," you smile. "And I stole the dollars, so I technically didn't cheat," you joke.

You open a drawer and hand him a small brown box.

Corey lightly shakes the box from side to side, then hesitantly opens it. Before he looks, he touches it. As soon as his fingers hit it, his eyes tell you he's shocked and overwhelmed. He tries to swallow down the emotion but it's all over his face.

He says your name and you nod. His throat bobs as he swallows again. "Are you sure?" He asks.

"100%" you say. "I really, really want you here."

When he finally looks down at the box, he laughs. The house key is a rainbow unicorn print. You were hoping it would take the edge off. He's speechless and you don't make hi. Say anything. You just kiss and hug.

"Ok," he says. "My turn." He leads you by the hand toward the foyer and picks up his backpack. He takes out a simple paper sack and opens the door. It's gotten a little chillier as the sun has begun to set. Neither of you are wearing jackets,but you're okay.

You walk around the wraparound porch together. There are several bags of soil on the porch and some biodegradable planters. He hands you the paper bag. It has seed packets of your favorite flowers. You're speechless.

"Um, we'll have to start them inside," he says.

Now you're the one welling up with tears.

"It's too cold now, but when it's time, it comes with free installation," he grins.

Your brow furrows. There's a lump in your throat. You know he hates to see you cry. You try not to. You still haven't said anything.

"Like, I'll plant them in the ground when they're ready," he explains. You understand, you're just overwhelmed.

You blink and tears fall off your eyelashes. "You gave me a garden?"

He nods excitedly, then proudly adds, "Oh, and I didn't cheat. Since I've been doing the landscaping on the weekends, I earned a bunch of points, and . . . " He trails off as you cup his face.

He looks back and forth between your eyes. "It's just a garden," he says. He kisses you on the forehead. "You gave me a home." He wraps his big arms around you and rubs your arms.

You really love this man so much. "No, you gave me one," you say. "Right here in your arms."

###

Happy Valentine's Day, reader! Corey loves you! 💘

#corey cunningham x you #gn!reader #sweet!corey cunningham #corey cunningham smut #valentine's day #boyfriend!corey cunningham #crying!corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #shy!corey cunningham #meow meow!corey Cunningham #fluffy smut #corey cunningham fluff #corey cunningham #meowmeow!corey cunningham #beefcake!corey cunningham #toxicanonymity ☠️

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jshookthighs · 2 years

Note

I’m stoked for your Corey fic to be gory and nsfw! As long as it’s tagged properly i think you should really run with it

@e1dritchjackal0pe - this one's for you, bud

OH MY GOD, this took so freakin long and I have been staring at my computer for hours rereading the same lines over and over again. I am not very good at smut but ya boi tried their best - without further ado, please enjoy <3

p.s. I am so sorry but there is like 2 Y/Ns in this story, I just couldn't think of anything else to say

Darker Feelings - Corey Cunningham x GN!Reader NSFW

Content warnings: Graphic violence, violent language, and smut!!!🔞 -> Read at your own risk // minors DNI

It’s a chilly night, the air crisp with the winds of autumn. The peaceful, quiet soundscape of the night is supposed to be calm. Instead, the gentle rustle of the leaves and the chirping of crickets are drowned out. Corey can only hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, thumping away like a stampede. His chest heaves in harsh, labored pants; misty clouds come out in puffs with each exhale. His eyes are unfocused and hazy, his body warm and alive with euphoric adrenaline. Thick liquid coats his hands and torso - the smell of copper makes him dizzy. Corey had done it again - taken a life. He looks back down at the fresh body that lies splayed beneath his knees, a large knife sticking almost comically out of the man’s chest. That wasn’t his only wound. Far from it. Corey had done so much. But how could he not? Looking at his work, rage comes flooding back in a violent wave. This bastard had touched you - groped you. This pig made you uncomfortable and disrespected you. He had squeezed your arm so tight. It had made you yelp. Corey’s jaw clenched so hard he felt his teeth would break. He wanted nothing more but to bring the creep back to life just to cut him down again. He knew he couldn’t, so instead, he relished in his handiwork. He reveled in how it felt to cut each of the man’s revolting fingers off, one by one as he cried and screamed or how he first beat the man to a bloody pulp, breaking the various bones in the man's face with the power of his punches. Corey had taken his time with this bastard, making him pay for his transgressions. Unfortunately, the man fought back hard, landing a few good hits across Corey’s face, splitting his lip, and forming a gash across his forehead. The bastard even managed to slash him during the struggle for a weapon, leaving Corey a bloody mess, albeit much less of a mess than the deceased man. In the end, it didn’t matter. He had won the fight. It wasn’t enough, though. As much as it was satisfying at the moment, Corey needed more. He needed to satiate that hunger that gnawed at his chest and up to his throat - trying to claw its way out. With a cock of his head, he felt the satisfying pop of his joints, relieving the tension that built up in his neck for a moment. With a huff, the curly-headed killer lifts himself off his knees and off of the fresh corpse that lays on the cold ground. And with that, he strolls out of the backyard gate he snuck through earlier and down the block where he had parked his motorbike. It’s like he’s on autopilot, his body knowing that he had to get back to you. Pain means nothing to him as adrenaline still coursed through his body; but instead of rage, a darker feeling sinks deep into the bottom of his gut. One that makes him have to adjust in his seat and grip the handles of his bike so tight, the whites of his knuckles threaten to break through the skin, and he can feel his whole body shake - as if he’s suffering withdrawals from your presence. Like lightning, he bolts forward, tires screeching against the asphalt below and he takes off. Caution to the wind, he speeds down the lonely roads of Haddonfield, ready to come home. Home to his sweetheart.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear the rev of an engine and the tall-tell sounds of gravel being kicked up - the noise is cut off just as quickly as they appeared followed by the jiggle of keys. Practically throwing yourself off of the couch, you make your way to the front door and almost take the door off of its hinges with the force you used to open it up. Corey stands there, hand still outstretched like he was about to put his key in the door. Eyes still down, he doesn't even look up at the violence of the door swinging open. “Corey, honey?” You start, confused about why he’s just standing there, but still relieved to see him back. You can see him take a deep breath, his chest expanding and falling back in a one jagged heave. Only then do you even register the dark crimson stains that paint his front. “Oh my God, Corey, what happened? Are you ok?” The momentary calm you had has now disappeared, panic coming back full force. You reach up and touch his shoulder, trying to get his attention - his silence worrying you, making you think he’s terribly hurt. That seems to be the trigger - your soft touch landing on his body. Dark eyes flit up to stare you down, the deep ebony of them making you gasp. These eyes were different. This didn’t look like your Corey. No, the man in front of you looked like a predator, ready to attack. He has half the mind to kick the door closed behind him, refusing to tear his eyes from you. He’s stalking forward, causing you to back up with surprise. For a moment, you think he’s changing his path to head into the den before he whips back to you - pushing you with him till you are harshly shoved against the door frame of the living room. You lose your breath for a moment. In an instant, his hands shoot out, one grips your hip in a bruising grasp, the other clamping onto your shoulder, effectively pinning you to the spot. Questions die on your tongue as he dips his head down, nose and lips dragging along your chest and you can hear him breathe you in, filling his lungs with everything that’s you before pulling back, hands softening on your body. “I-” he starts, eyes flickering back and forth like he’s trying to think, that, or trying to hold something back. His eyes are softer now, nothing like the darkness you had witnessed merly seconds before. “I’m - I -” He can’t speak, mind whirling and body fighting just to not attack you right then and there. “Corey, talk to me, please. What’s going on?” You beg. You don’t know what’s happening, and you’re scared, but you don’t know if you’re scared of Corey or scared for him.

The loud ticking of the clock in the living room makes you want to rip it off the wall and shatter it into a million pieces. Your leg bounces anxiously as you chew the ends of your fingernails. Three hours. Corey has been gone for three hours. Fear festers and blooms in your chest, worried about where in the world your partner had gone. You were having fun only a few hours earlier, laughing and swaying to the music at the bar. The both of you enjoying a drink and each other’s company. It was one of those rare times when date night was out in public and around crowds - unlike the common movie dates or trips to the park. Everything was going amazing, with Corey finally letting loose and feeling relaxed in a social space. That was until some random middle-aged man who smelt of cigarettes and cheap cologne thought it would be such a great idea to hit on you the second your boyfriend left for the bathroom. You had tried to be nice, politely declining the offered drink and conversation by stating that you didn’t come alone. For some reason, that was not a deterrent. The sleaze then tried to corner you against the pool table that stood behind you, refusing to back up and even going as far as to try and slip his grimy hand around your hip. His breath was heavy with whisky as he kept trying to get you to leave the bar with him, promising a “good time”. The very idea made you want to hurl. Completely over the man’s antics, you snapped, demanding he left you alone and pushed him aside, making the already tipsy creep stumble. As you try to slip by in order to seek out your partner, the drunkard had reached out and gripped your upper arm, his fingernails digging into the skin, causing you to let out a small shout from the force and how he tried to rip you back. As suddenly as it happened, the pressure was off your arm. Everything had moved so fast that the only thing you recognized was the wet crack of the creep’s face smashing into the pool table, his nose most definitely breaking on the impact, and a heaving Corey with the look of murder in those black swirls of eyes. After lifting the man up and tossing his body to the floor, he grabbed your hand and yanked you out of the bar. You tried to calm your lover down, “Corey, I’m sorry, I told him to leave me alone and I-” “I’m not mad at you.” He had cut you off, tone flat and even - that had scared you more than his previous actions. Even like that, clearly upset, Corey had still remembered to shuck his jacket off of his shoulders and transfer it to yours before offering his hand for you to climb onto your spot on his motorbike.

The drive home was silent besides the violent whipping of the wind and the racing thoughts in your mind. Your concern had peaked when he had dropped you off at home, walked you to your door, and leaned down to place a feather-soft kiss on your cheek before promising to be home later. And with that, he raced off into the night, and the echo of his bike’s engine faded into an eerie silence. That’s where you were now, sitting on the sofa, glancing back and forth from your phone to the window, waiting for any sign of Corey’s return.

“I did something bad tonight,” his voice comes out softly, straining in his throat. He decides to bury his head deep into the crook of your neck. “I killed somebody, I took away his life.” his nose pushes farther in like he’s hiding from you. “What- Corey, sweetheart, what are you talking about?” Your voice wavers. What did he just say? You try pushing his shoulders back to look at him. He refuses to budge. Instead, his arms wrap tighter around your waist. He doesn’t answer. “Corey, this isn’t funny-” “It’s not a joke, y/n.” He cuts you off, slowly lifting his head so it now rests on your forehead, eyes locked onto one another. His eyes, they’re dark again, something sinister dancing in those irises. “I did it.” he starts, hand coming up to press against the door frame, settling right next to your head. “That man from the bar? I followed him, followed him home. I beat him till he bled. He begged me to stop. He-” Corey’s breaths turn into a chuckle, a deep chuckle that made your heart stop. His mouth had spread into a wolfish grin. His teeth shine like blades, cold and dangerous. You always loved it when he smiled, but this? This is not his smile. You can’t stop the violent shiver that scrapes down your spine. “I ripped him limb from limb - I made him scream… and I did it for you.” His voice softened at the end. For you? He had killed? The man from the bar? It finally hit you. You were in such a state of shock that you had completely forgotten about the creep who had grabbed you. Corey killed him? Your sweet and loving boy had done that? Confusion consumes you, and you try to pull away.

Corey’s faster and snatches your waist, pressing himself flush against your body to keep you still. Not an inch stands between you and him, making you feel every breath and beat of his racing heart. The smile is wiped from his face. “Don’t-” he blanches, “Don’t be afraid of me, please, baby.” He’s shaking now, fingers digging into your skin, most definitely leaving a bruise. He sounds like he’s about to sob, tears welling and threatening to spill off his long lashes. This flip-flopping of his personality makes you dizzy. Here right - now was your shy and gentle boyfriend when only moments ago, he was a terrifying stranger. Regardless of your fight or flight, you reach up, gingerly cupping one side of his face, thumb tracing underneath a fresh scratch that littered his cheek. “I’m not scared of you, Corey. I’m scared of what’s happening.” He whines and pushes his head deeper into your palm, relishing in the warmth. You think he’s calming down now. Maybe you could just sit and talk about this? I mean, what he’s saying is crazy! You go to pull your hand back, but in a flash, Corey grips your wrist, squeezing so you can feel the pressure, like a show of power. “Corey, why?” You feel like you have to ask. Why is he doing this? “Why?”, he counters, “Everything I do, I do it for you, that’s why.” He answers like he’s in disbelief - like it’s weird to him you didn’t already know that. “I killed someone for you tonight because you deserve it! Because… I love you.” Your heart pounds violently now. This was the first time he had ever said that - said that he loved you. Out of all the times he could, he chose now, after admitting to committing murder for your sake. As he thinks back to his crime, rage comes flooding back in once more. “He thought he could put his disgusting hands on you? Thought he could take you away from me?” Corey slots his leg between your knees, pressing harshly against your center, making you squeak. Ignoring you he continues, “I’ll kill every single person in this whole fucking town, I will burn it all to the ground it if means you’re still mine. If I can’t have you, no one will - I will tear the world to pieces to keep you.” He grips your hip in one hand, forcing you into a half-grind against his thigh while his other snakes up to the back of your head. With a firm tug on your hair, your head tilts back as Corey leaves a molten trail of kisses and nips down your neck and to your collarbone, teeth scraping down the expanse of your throat. Your hands grab onto the fabric of his soaked sweater for an anchor, overwhelmed by the ricochet from feeling fear to feeling that familiar warmth spread lower and lower to where your thighs connect. You can't help but feel concerned as your own body betrays you - hearing his husky deep voice say such alarming things, you can feel your thighs tighten around his. He can feel it, too.

Impatient enough to not even attempt to make it to your bedroom, Corey’s tossing you to the floor, his hand cushioning your head, keeping the floor from connecting with bone. Still, the force knocks the breath out of you. His shadow envelopes you, and the light of the lamp is smothered by his body as he towers over you, knees straddling your hips. He’s looking at you like a meal after he hasn’t eaten in weeks. He goes to touch you, but at the last second, he pulls back, holding his hand as if you had burned him. He thinks for a second, looking off into the distance, then those inky depths are trained back onto you. He breathes harshly. “Tell me now to stop, tell me now before I do something you don’t want.” He’s practically begging you to decide for him. He can’t hurt you, can’t stand to do something you wouldn’t like. Your heart melts. You take in the sight of him fully now - he’s covered in now drying reddish-brown stains, his hands are scraped and bruised, his face is littered with cuts - his lip is split, and his sweater is torn and has slashes through it. You just stare at him for a moment, vision flickering from eye to eye before falling to his lips as he bites them anxiously. You reach up to free the skin from his vicious teeth and let out a shuddering breath. “I want this, Corey, I want you. I always want you, no matter what.” Those words forever sealed your fate. But, you don’t mind. You love Corey. You’d love him until it killed you.

Soft lips come crashing down into yours, the force knocking your teeth together. It’s like his hands are everywhere at once, roaming your sides, up and down your back, brushing against your middle - it makes your head spin. You can feel his cold hands slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, the chill causing you to gasp and arch your chest up into Corey’s, your bodies now impossibly close. He refuses to let go of your lips. Every time you pull back for the tiniest bit of air, he’s chasing after you, stealing that breath right out from your lungs. Clothes are ripped from your frame and thrown half haphazardly out of the way, them being useless at the moment. When his fingers arrive at your underwear, he glides the fingertips gently over the front before balling one side of the elastic and tearing it from your body. The power behind that action makes your cheeks burn with heat. Your lover leans back on his haunches, drinking in the image of you naked and waiting. How could anyone be this perfect? Your body looked like a painting, soft and warm, and oh so delicate. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, only thinking about how much you need him. That pretty word makes his eyes flit to your lips, now red and swollen from being kissed silly. Entranced by their softness, he traces the supple flesh with his fingers. With a gentle push, he slips two digits into the wet warmth of your mouth, pressing down harshly on your tongue, causing you to gag slightly. “Be patient, darlin’.” he chides you like you were an impatient child, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. He removes his fingers from your mouth, and a thin trail of saliva follows him as he trails them down your chest, over your stomach, and right onto that soft spot between your legs. He teases you by tracing every sensitive crevice, abusing the knowledge he has of your body - using it to make you squirm and moan. He’s stroking and petting you in all the right places, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but when you can feel your release swelling and getting ready to burst, Corey pulls back his fingers. You can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, your release fading away. “Nuh uh, baby, if you wanna cum, it has to be with me inside. Do you want that, sweetheart? Want me inside this pretty little hole of yours?” As he questions you, he raises his damp fingers to his mouth, lips wrapping around them and sucking. He groans at your taste. God did he want to sink down and drink you like you’re holy water and worship at your alter like a devoted follower. But not tonight, he’s too impatient.

In one fluid motion, he’s ripping off his sweater and then shoves down his overly-tight jeans and underwear, releasing the pressure they put on his cock. Just to add fuel to the fire, he grinds down hard onto your center, forcing lewd noises out of your lips. “Huh? I asked you a question, baby. You want me in you, filling you up and taking what’s mine?” He grips your jaw now, forcing your eyes to look at him after he noticed they had closed. “Yes, Corey, please I need it - please just fuck me, please!” You beg, wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to pound you as hard as possible. “Okay, baby, just because you asked so nicely.” He lifts your thighs so they rest over his own, a hand guiding his dick over the throbbing between your legs, grinding into some of your most sensitive spots. Now, usually, Corey was soft and slow, taking his time to rock back and forth, easing himself in a bit further with each sway of his hips. But this wasn’t your typical Corey - this one lines himself up with your hole, and in one move, he’s impaling you, sticking himself deep inside until his pelvis smashes into yours. The motion makes your mouth fall open, and a loud moan is choked out of you. It also makes Corey grunt and growl at the feeling of your body swallowing him whole. He huffs out a breath before he pulls back almost all the way and propels back it with a snap. Again and again, he’s thrusting in and out with a force you’ve never felt before. This did not feel like your average lovemaking, no, Corey Cunningham was fucking you like an animal. Moans and pants echo through your home along with the wet slaps of his bottom half colliding with yours. Chests are heaving, and you both are covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Your partner has to hold you in place so you don’t slide against the now slick wooden floor. You’re pulled from your euphoric pleasure as Corey calls for your attention. “Look how good you take me, sweetheart. Look at that pretty bulge in your tummy.” With a hand on your chin, he’s forcing you to look at the sight between your legs - Corey’s cock pushing deep into your body, it's far in you can see a faint outline of his tip poking out of your stomach. The site gives you butterflies, and you can’t help but squeeze tighter around him, crying out his name. The way your tongue forms the letters of his name makes him shiver. That dark need crawled back up his throat again, demanding more - demanding you.

He’s forcing your head back to latch his teeth into your throat, canines biting deep into your skin till he is so close to drawing blood. He nips you, again and again, marking you with every shade of red and purple. But marking wasn’t enough, Corey needed to know that all of you was his, not just your body - it had to be everything. With a grunt, he’s pushing away from your now hickey-decorated neck and looking you deep in the eyes. “You. are. Mine.” Each word of his is accentuated with a thrust of his hips, his pelvis connecting violently with yours. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine.” He commands you now. However, you’re in no position to speak with your mind drifting away to the rhythm of Corey’s movements. Your silence frustrates him, causing his rough palm to grip your throat, and his body stills. “Say. It.” His voice is cold and harsh, demanding your obedience. “Yours - I’m - I’m all yours.” You gasp out the words weakly, anything to keep him going. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re mine.” His hips pick back up to their original speed. Corey continues, “And I’m yours - heart, body, soul - every fucking fiber of my being belongs to you.” He nestles impossibly closer, pushing even deeper into you. “Anyone who looks at you, I’ll kill 'em. Slash their throats, stab them again and again and again, and I’ll cut them into pieces for you.” Once steady drives of his hips are now frantic and quite frankly animalistic ruts. His fingertips dig harshly into the meat of your thighs, and crescent moons are embedded into the abused flesh until little beads of crimson liquid decorate the connection. The mix of the pain and the filth of his words cause you to tighten incredibly.

Corey can’t help but let out a huff, a smirk snaking its way over his cheeks. “Do you like that? Hearing me say I’ll kill for you. I can tell, sweetheart. I can feel it. You want me to show them that you’re mine? Make them pay for touching you? Looking at you? I’ll pluck the eyes right out of their head. Huh? Do you want that? You’re so pretty like this, so pretty lying underneath me, taking all of me. No one else can make you feel this good, right? No one can love you like I can.” He’s rambling, words coming out as if a damn has broken. You’re so lightheaded that you can barely make out a thing he’s saying, just understanding that it’s something vulgar and delicious. The only thing you can do now is lazily nod your head at his questions and cling desperately to his shoulders, leaving lines of red in your wake to find a grip on something. Corey hisses at your scratching, a choked moan escapes him. God, you feel like heaven. Both of you feel it coming, that inevitable edge you have to come to, but Corey’s determined throw you off that cliff first. One of his hands releases your bruised hip, reaching up and over his shoulder to grasp your smaller hand in his, bringing it up next to your head. Your fingers are interlocked so tightly that you worry for a moment if the joints will snap and break. The curly-haired man leans down, his full weight keeping you pinned to the hardwood floor below. You know you’ll be aching horribly in the morning, but you’re too far gone to care much now. Forehead to forehead, you both race toward the finish line, eyes unable to look away from the others. You can feel it coming - that feeling deep in your gut where the line is about to snap and you feel yourself losing control. Corey can tell, too. With one fellow swoop, he’s folding you in half, knees daring to kiss your shoulders as his hand presses down hard.

With the new position, you can feel Corey reaching the deepest parts of you, punching again and again into the soft spongy spot that makes you see stars. “Do it, honey, it’s ok, let go. I got you, I got you.” And with his permission and a few more good thrusts, you’re thrown off that ledge, and you fall, your climax hitting like a ton of bricks. However, it doesn’t stop. Corey doesn’t slow for a second. The overstimulation causes your leg to kick out violently and your body to try and arch away from the onslaught of pleasure, taking over every sense in your body. A scream tries to claw its way out of your throat, but silence is the only thing that exists. Your walls clench so hard that it makes Corey gasp, his pelvis stuttering as your release propels him closer to his. “Tell me - fuck - tell me you love me.” Your lover begs you, tears welling up in the big dark eyes again. “I was made for you. I was made to be yours - God, I love - I love - I - you.” Corey’s stuttering now, voice shaking and desperate. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you. No one will ever hurt you again - no one will ever push you around or make you feel bad. I’ll protect you - keep you safe.” He’s so close now, holding off as long as he can, needing to feel you for a little bit longer. With the last remaining shred of energy you have left, your shaking hands reach up to cup his face. “I - I love you, Corey. My good boy.” With a whine, he’s dragging you into a harsh kiss as his hips collide with yours one last violent time. And with that, warmth shoots within you as he fills you to the brim with cum. Both of you are struggling for air, wheezing like you had run a 10k. You lay limp on the floor, mussels too exhausted to move, meanwhile Corey has wrapped himself around you completely, head buried into your chest. As you come down from your high, you can feel Corey shaking on top of you, his body quivering and you hear the smallest sniffle, then a full-blown sob. You try to call out for your boyfriend but his wails are too loud for you to get his attention. Instead, you begin to stroke his now sweat-drenched hair. When he calmed down some a few minutes later, you try again. “Corey-” “Tell me you meant it.” He cuts you off once again tonight. “Meant what, hun?” You ask, still petting his hair and back as comfort. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” His voice trails off into a pitiful whine accompanied by another small sob. “Of course I love you!” “Really?” he asks, needing that reassurance. “Yes Corey, I love you. No matter what. Whatever happens now, I will still love you today, tomorrow, and forever after that.” Corey sits up on his aching knees after that, finally looking at you. “You know I meant it? I meant it when I said I loved you and that I'd protect you. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but all I know is that I’m better now - I’m stronger.” You sit up with him as he speaks, holding him close. “You always protect me, Corey, I never felt unsafe with you.” “Even now?” He counters. “Yes, even now. I will never be afraid of you. Now come on, it’s cold as hell down here, let’s go to bed, okay?” Corey nods his head and helps you up, picking you up when your legs threaten to collapse under you. After you both shower together, you patch up your boyfriend’s wounds and head to bed - holding each other close and tight. A lot had happened tonight, and you knew you had a lot to talk about in the morning. But for the moment, you relax in the arms of your lover - your Corey.

______________________________________________________________

Final note: Hopefully with a lil time and practice - I can give ya'll some decent spicy scene // but right now my fingers are cramping and I got work in the morning, but do not fret, I have another one in the works about Corey being a manipulative son of a bitch - if you know you know <3

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #slasher x reader #slasher smut #gn reader #halloween ends

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ghostly-clown · 2 years

Note

Hiii! I love your writing, and I just read your Headcannos if the slasher liked a guy.

I was wondering if you could do the same, but with someone who uses it/it's pronouns, and is Agender? Thank you so much. And if you're not comfortable using it/it's pronouns, you can use they/them.

And preferably with Jason, Michael, Brahms, and Thomas. (I'm not sure if you write for Tommy)

You're also more than welcome to add anyone else.

Have a great day/night <33

Vry cute idea that I am more than happy to write for <3

Includes:

Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewett, Corry Cunningham, Bo Sinclair

Jason Voorhees

- He a little confused at first (he lives in the woods alone so...)

- Sees other people call you it or they and eventually is just like 'huh, guess that's what they are'

- It really dosnt bother him though, he just thinks it's interesting

- Dosnt talk so pronouns are easy

- He kind of likes the idea of not really falling under a specific label and just seeing you being a person

- Very sweet with u, not much would change from a normal relationship

Michael Myers

- he gets called 'it' alot so he's a little surprised that someone would choose to be called that

- This will also make him the shalsher who understands how you feel the most in terms of not really being a man or a woman

- He would do his regular stalking thing, he dosnt know how to people very well

- Only after a while will he realise he's stalking you cause he's got a crush

- I think he would also feel like you understand him more by using it/it's pronouns

- Loves you vry much and would Slaughter anyone to miss gender you >:(

Brahms Heelshire

- Learnt you use non-binary pronouns when you jokingly told the doll

- He lives in the walls so like Jason he dosnt know that people can identify as something other than man or women

- His curiosity is peaked and that's what will eventually lead to catching feelings

- After coming out he will ask you alot of questions, none of them are ment to be rude he simply wants to understand

- In the end he would love u relentlessly as the touch starved bb he is

Thomas Hewitt

- He has a vague idea on non-binary people and it's only from what Hoyt has said

- Then he meets you and your so sweet and kind nothing like Hoyt said

- He would take you to his cellar but never dare hurt you

- He's just trying to keep you away from Hoyt, for obvious reasons

- He would be very sweet and to make up for the harsh meeting he's gonna do his best to comfort you as much as possible

Corry Cunningham

- Probably the only slasher to actuly know what they/them it/it's pronouns are

- And he complete respects all pronouns no matter the person

- He will however check with you constantly to make sure he is using the right pronouns

- His blood would BOIL if anyone used the wrong pronouns on purpose

- But that person won't be a problem for long and after hes done he'll try his best to comfort you

Bo Sinclair

- He's heard of people using other pronouns but he isn't well educated in it

- Unfortunately he will make many mistakes but as long as you point it out he'll fix it

- He just wants you to be happy so he'll actually do some re-search into what it means to be non-binary

- The more he learns the more his respect grows

- After that he's never made a mistake and is very proud of his genderless partner

I hope I did this ask justice!

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mmmmbreadsoup · 1 year

Text

Backstory

Words - 1.2k

2nd POV

gn!reader

Warnings: Light murder, hints of abandonment, Michael Myers

It was a bleary night that you were having. Soaking sneakers and hunger settled in your stomach, as you struggled to get up. You couldn’t give up now though. Proving your worth was a crucial step to gaining his favor. If you could gain his favor, then you could stay by his side. Unfortunately, that useless Corey Cunningham betrayed him and made everything more difficult. It wasn’t that impressive; what he did. You didn’t know what Myers saw in that pathetic idiot. No use worrying over it now. You swore to him that you’d prove yourself useful.

You woke up in some random bed. It was pretty weird, and pretty anxiety inducing. You thought that someone had kidnapped you, but Myers was the only one there. Then if Myers was there, that means he probably took you here to rest. Looking around, you saw a dusty table with what seems to be a broken alarm clock. Seems like nobody had tended to the house in a while. There was light coming from the window meaning it was daytime. No wonder Michael wasn’t here. Despite people not seeing him until Halloween, he was with you most nights. Though sadly, he doesn’t show during days, unless it’s important. You swung your feet off the bed, landing on the cold hard ground. Hearing the boards creak made you nervous. With how old the house is, it’s bound to have a few boards loose enough to fall through. After searching the house with precaution, it was pretty clear no one had lived here for a while. A few people passed by the house a few times throughout the day. Considering you didn’t want to go back to the house you used to live in, you decided to crash in this house for a bit. It wasn’t a bad place to stay all considering that apparently food had been getting replaced. There was a whole loaf of bread almost a month before the expiration date. Myers probably had come here often when he had nowhere to go. Then you realized, there was only ever one house in the town that had been abandoned like this. And also inhabited by Myers like this. The Myers residence. It filled you with joy to know that he had trusted you enough to bring you to his house. The very house he hated to have other people in. So overjoying, the whole experience. This was basically him showing how much he trusted you. The rest of the day was just a normal, boring, lounging around day. Except for that time, you saw a huge rat eating at some wood in the corner.

Snapping out of it, you found yourself at the end of the street. No time for reminiscing anymore though. It’s soon to be night, and with night comes Myers, obviously. He came from the bushes with the same mask and knife as always. Gave you a quick head pat before walking towards the first victim’s house. You wore a smile, that would be sure to stay as long as you're with him, as you skipped down the sidewalk next to him. Living as his apprentice/child would be a nice life. Well, that’s what you could say, other people, not so much.

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slutforstabbings-archive · 2 years

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My spouse keeps asking me if i think David Gordon Green and Danny McBride et al knew what they were doing with Corey’s character. And I’m like yeah they fucking knew!! They did this shit to me on purpose.

#corey cunningham #halloween ends #halloween franchise #corey cunningham x reader #he’s like perfectly crafted for the mentally ill girlies (gn)#there’s no way it was unintentional #tate langdon ass bitch #thoughts #personal

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phntmeii · 10 months

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✰ Phntmeii's Headcanon Masterlist ✰

✰ You can request general ideas or characters you want to see more of or specific requests. (EX: 'Vinsome Sanji Fluff'. Or request 'Jon Snow x Wildling!Reader at the Wall headcanons'.)

✰ NSFW content will often be AFAB or GN for readers and often have a Dom!Character unless specified otherwise. (AMAB terms are unfamiliar to me so may not me fulfilled). Minors DNI. Will be blocked.

✰ I will only write for characters that I know to not provide too OOC content. Please refer to my current fixation list for fandoms that I'm apart of or the already listed fandoms I've done headcanons for!

✰ Headcanons/Requests may not be fulfilled in order! I will generally bounce around different lists based on my preference so it may take a bit to get around to certain characters!

✰ Regular Headcanon Lists generally range from 25-35 bullet points with sections that include characters' love languages. Compilation Headcanon Lists have a scenario listed with characters listed under a specific reaction.(Can be a simple sentence or two or a drabble for each character.)

REQUESTS: Working on current submitted requests!

✰ Current Fixations: Across the Spider-Verse, COD:MWII, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, Live Action One Piece, Horror Slashers, Mortal Kombat 1

NSFW Headcanons are highlighted in RED. WIP Headcanons are highlighted in PINK. This list will be updated as time goes on with more characters and links directly to the posts. Compilation Headcanons with several characters are highlighted in PURPLE.

ASOIAF:

Aegon II Targaryen Aemond Targaryen Jaime Lannister [Kingslayer] Jaime Lannister [Redemption] Margaery Tyrell x Snow!Reader Robb Stark Sandor Clegane Sandor Clegane x Snow!Reader (20% Done)

ATSV:

Hobie Brown Miguel O’Hara Miles Morales Miles Morales x SelfHarming!Reader Miles Morales [E42]

One Piece Live Action:

Luffy w/ Breeding Kink OPLA Characters and Physical Touch OPLA Characters Makeout Sessions OPLA Characters “Only One Bed” Trope OPLA Characters "Only One Bed" Trope PT. 2 (Coming Soon) OPLA Characters x disabled!Reader Possessive!OPLA Characters x shy!Reader (Coming Soon)

Random things OPLA Characters would Do Roronoa Zoro w/ Breeding Kink Sanji Cooking w/ Reader (Coming Soon) Sanji w/ Breeding Kink Sanji x Reader w/ ED (Coming Soon) Sanji x shy!Reader (Coming Soon) Jealous!Sanji x Pirate!GN!Reader Straw Hat Crew when You’re Sick Usopp w/ Breeding Kink

Slashers:

Angela Baker Brahms Heelshire Bo Sinclair NSFW Alphabet Corey Cunningham Hannibal Lecter (Coming Soon) RZ!Michael Myers (Coming Soon) RZ!Michael Myers x Russian!SO Sinclair Twins [Artist!Reader + Bimbo!Reader] Slashers and Hanahaki Disease Slashers Thoughts on Having Kids Slashers x depressed!Reader (Coming Soon) Slashers x Fanfic Reading SO Slashers x Naive!Sunshine!SO Slashers x Shy!SO Slashers x StrictLatina!SO Slashers x Petite!Strong!SO Thomas Hewitt

HOTD Texts:

Aemond's Texts After Season 1 HOTD x SO!Reader: "Are You Cheating on Me?” HOTD x SO!Reader: "Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Team Green Incorrect Quotes

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

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creepswrites · 1 year

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❝ CREEPS ‣ HE/IT ‣ REQUESTS OPEN ❞ ‣ ALL WRITING ‣ MASTERLIST ‣ VIEW RULES AND REGULATIONS BELOW TO REQUEST!

I. ❝ RESTRICTIONS ❞

‣ The following themes are PROHIBITED: racism, homophobia, transphobia, inc*st, ped*philia, illegal age gaps, extreme/harmful fetishes and kinks, r*pe, self-h*rm, suic*de, & extremely graphic abuse/depictions of abuse.

‣ Topics such as mental illness, violent scenes, and mention/depiction of abuse may pop up on occasion and will be properly tagged. While violent scenes may occur, I try to avoid topics I know to be upsetting to read as well as topics I myself find upsetting.

‣ I will NOT write smut with underage muses of mine, even if the reader is the same age.

‣ I will write for AMAB, AFAB, TRANS, and GN READERS! If you have specific pronouns for your reader request, make sure to state those! I always default to gender neutral reader unless otherwise specified :)

‣ Please do NOT repost my writing anywhere! Ask to translate, do not unless I have given explicit permission for you to do so.

II. ❝ THEMES ❞

‣ Common themes I write for include but are not limited to:

fluff / slice of life

angst / darker themes

nsfw / smut

violence

multi-chapter stories

‣ I do write reader x canon OR canon x canon, so long as it does not violate any of my restrictions! I can be picky about what canon x canon pairing I write for though, it has to speak to me.

III. ❝ REQUESTING ❞

‣ I reserve the right to deny any request for any reason.

‣ Do not spam/pressure me to write! I write for what inspires me in the moment. Requests will be completed when I have the time.

‣ Requests sent when they're closed will be discarded!

HEADCANONS | 1-3K ONESHOT | 4K+ ONESHOT

‣ Headcanons : Five character max, one character min. If the headcanon prompt is specific enough, it can be combined with a small drabble! These vary in length/detail. Unless characters for headcanons are specified, I'll likely write as many/as few as I feel inspired for! Usually within the same fandom/theme, so long as they fit the prompt given!

‣ 1-3k Oneshot : These vary in length & detail depending on the material provided. If requesting, please specify, otherwise I default to headcanons. These can take me longer than headcanons so I take requests for them more sparingly.

‣ 4k+ Oneshot : Meant for more specific scenarios with lots of ideas & content involved! I rarely do these unless I'm particularly inspired by the prompt given. Usually, 4k+ is reserved for long-term story chapters.

IV. ❝ MUSES ❞

‣ Michael Myers : Halloween (1987, RZ, & 2018/Kills)

‣ Jason Voorhees : Friday the 13th

‣ Bubba Sawyer & Thomas Hewitt : The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

‣ Brahms Heelshire : The Boy (2016)

‣ Billy Lenz : Black Christmas (1974)

‣ Vincent Sinclar, Bo Sinclair, & Lester Sinclair : House of Wax (2005)

‣ Stu Macher & Billy Loomis : Scream

‣ Leslie Vernon : Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

‣ Pyramid Head : Silent Hill

‣ Carrie White : Carrie

‣ Danny Johnson, Anna, & Amanda Young : Dead by Daylight ‣ You may ask me to try any DBD character though!

‣ Corey Cunningham : Halloween Ends (sparingly)

‣ Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers : Stranger Things (sparingly)

‣ Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom : IT (1990, 2017 & 2019) (sparingly)

‣ ICON + HEADER ‣ COVER IMAGE ‣ LAYOUT INSPO

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #horror writing #halloween 1978 #house of wax #black christmas #behind the mask #the texas chainsaw massacre #friday the 13th #the boy 2016 #carrie 1976 #dead by daylight #silent hill #scream #halloween ends #stranger things #it 2017

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sketchy-rosewitch · 10 months

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My Masterlist for the Haunted Hoedown which was Created by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink

Day One: Keeping It Between Us: Murph Connors x afab!gn!reader

Day Two: Anything for You: Corey Cunningham x afab!gn!reader

Day Three: Play With Me Like a Child: 18 y/o!Carly Jones x 18y/o!Bo Sinclair

Day Four: Malfunction: Captain Denninger x android!gn!afab!reader

Day Five: Maybe There’s a God Above: priest!Bo Sinclair x nun!reader

Day Six: Moonlight Madness: Bo Sinclair x werewolf!reader x Vincent Sinclair

Day Seven: Wolves Eat Bunnies: Rusty Nail x afab!gn!reader

Day Eight: Vincent Sinclair x past victim!reader

Day Nine: Bo Sinclair x gn!afab!reader

Day Ten: Cade Ward x gn!afab!reader

Day Eleven: Dead Ringers au, Bo Sinclair x afab!gn!reader x Vincent Sinclair

Day Twelve: Bo Sinclair x afab!gn!reader

#hauntedhoedown #murph connors #corey cunningham #halloween ends #carly jones #captain denninger #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #rusty nail joyride #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #cade ward #carly jones x bo sinclair #rusty nail x reader #bo sinclair x reader #will Denninger x reader #brian van holt

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slasherhoe87 · 1 year

Note

we need more of old man Myers ☹

Yes, dear Anon, we do! Which is why I'm going to write these headcanons for all of us.

Peepaw Myers x GN Reader

👨🏻‍🦳WHAT IT'S LIKE LIVING WITH PEEPAW MICHAEL MYERS👨🏻‍🦳:

Peepaw never speaks - ever. The only noises that pass through his easily bruised lips (DON'T give him corn on the cob again!) on a regular basis are grunts and grumbles

Leaves the toilet seat up

Misses most of the time too - expect to find urine on the seat lid and the wall behind the toilet

Never wears his work boots anymore - even on hunts.

Peepaw doesn't give a shit anymore and wears his slippers and bathrobe over his coveralls all the time, even when out killing

Its certainly a sight when he comes back home in the wee hours of the morning, his blue and green tartan slippers tracking blood through the kitchen, bathrobe swaying gently behind him

Sits on the porch in your grandma's old rocking chair most of the day eating soft candies just waiting to scare off pesky kids who dare to put one toe on the lawn

Technology is the devil

Holds the cellphone you bought for him like its going to eat him alive

Only replies with 👍🏻 and 'ok' when you send him a text

Thinks modern horror films are garbage and lack the charm and suspense the superior older ones had

Naps regularly throughout the day. Either in the rocking chair on the porch or the recliner in the living room

He's dying for a nice steak but his poor teeth just can't handle it.

Generally doesn't drink but enjoys a small bourbon or brandy some nights before bed

Takes up most of the bed and hogs the duvet

Stares longingly at the harder candies - especially candy corn at the store before you pull him away and guide him to the softer candies

Backseat driver

Feeds all the stray cats at the nearby park

Chases away all the dogs

Complains at the prices of everything

Gives waiters/waitresses and cashiers the stink eye because of this even though its not their fault

Has a picture of Laurie behind the side door of the garage and throws darts at it

Your threaten to send him to Sunny Meadows nursing home when he gets too difficult

Will try and fix something before you buy a new one

Likes rock 'n' roll and classic metal

Thinks modern music is trash and soulless noise

Likes to take late afternoon strolls with you in the park while holding hands

Doesn't own a single pair of underwear - he's commando all day every day

Refuses to go the doctors for anything

You end up bribing him with making his favourite pie: strawberry and rhubarb

Gives you the reins more often in the bedroom than he used to

Happy to lie on his aching back at let you do the work (he wouldn't even dream of letting you be so in charge a few years prior)

Enjoys soft love making more than he used to

Likes drinking your homemade sweet tea and lemonade on the porch

Will pinch your bottom every time he walks past you

Likes to crack his knuckles

Wants to murder your neighbor (she's a clone of Corey Cunningham's mother)

Hates loud parties. Will go to the offending house and cut their power before walking back home with a satisfied smile

Likes cuddling with you in bed and peppering your neck and cheek with chaste kisses

I could go on and on really. But anyway, hope you enjoy! 🎃❤

#peepaw michael myers #peepaw myers #michael myers #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher headcanons #slasher fucker #slasher community

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year

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❝ Say yes to heaven (say yes to me) ❞

Michael Myers x gn!reader x Corey Cunningham | dating drabble | graphic description of violence, mentions of nsfw things |

req: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with Michael and Corey recently and was wondering if we could get some Michael x Reader x Corey action going here? Just general headcanons of how that relationship would go!! <;33

Your boyfriends are truly on opposite ends on nearly every spectrum.

Not just in age — which, let's discuss before anything else.

Michael is in his 60's while Corey is in his 20's — by themselves? They make a pretty unlikely couple, but they're also clearly deranged, so no one can comment on that.

Throwing you in the picture? Chaos erupts.

Despite his age, Michael's impulse control is something that's held together by a stringy shoelace and tape. Don't get me wrong, Corey's just as awful but somehow it's slightly better than Michael's.

All this to say, if you're just as awful at controlling your impulses? The devil himself will need to leash all three of you before Haddonfield is plunged into total destruction.

The sewers aren't an ideal living space but it brings Michael a smidge of comfort, so when Corey's parents mysteriously 'disappear' he works on making an underground tunnel of sorts so Michael can come and go as he pleases.

Corey and you joke it's basically your boyfriends' doggy door and Michael death-glared from where he stood.

Michael is a tough nut to crack — but his weakness has been and will always be acts of service.

A warm meal, a warm bath, getting bloodstains off his clothes...

Helping him shave.

He is truly spoiled by Corey and you because now when he tries to shave he finds himself inexplicably frustrated it's not your fingers tilting his head back or Corey's deadly hands carefully going along the grain.

You've walked into the bathroom and yelled in shock when the lights switch on to reveal Michael standing near the sink with his razor blade, a frown oh-so-prominent on his face.

"...Do you need some help, babe?" Michael's scruffy face that glowers at you is all the answer you need.

Though a man of few words, the little things he does is more than telling of how much he cares about his lovers.

The daily pouches/bags/backpacks/etc Corey and you use are always filled with your necessities. Whether it be hand sanitiser, wet wipes, or mints — he even makes sure to slip your phones, wallets and keys in before you two leave. Michael doesn't engage in these mundane things but he knows they're important to you so he assists anyways.

Corey fills Michael's silence with his voice. Once he gets to talk about something that interests him, he could talk for hours on end and Michael is a great listener (even if he looks as though he's not paying attention).

Corey's a big fan of physical touch. He loves making it known that you're his in public and adores it just as much when you return the gesture — he turns red when Michael and you hold him between your bodies.

When your murderous partners are off to fulfil their homicidal needs, they tread carefully on their way to the bathroom once they're home. You've laid out a tarp to ease their journey, please keep the crime scene contained, boys.

Michael and Corey stalk you and each other — it can't be helped. They just need to make sure their lovers are safe.

Michael will steal for both of you. If any of you eye something for more than 10 seconds in a store, not 24 hours later it's vanished and 'somehow' appeared in your shared bedroom.

Date nights are comfortable and chaotic. Corey is sweet, his plans involve someplace hidden where the three of you can just be. Michaels' are more unconventional in a way that's endearing because he's an old man and an infamous killer.

Sewers are his go-to transportation and then when the three of you pop out he monotonously gestures to a beautiful home that's almost bordering a mansion. He opens the doors, meanders to the lavish dining room and there's the grand feast the couple he'd just slaughtered were going to eat.

"Thank you, Michael" Corey's grin is impossibly crooked and bright while you press a kiss to Michael's masked cheek — Michael's old heart squeezes with adoration.

Oftentimes, Michael experiences cuteness aggression. He has to hold himself back from physically grabbing you and Corey by your necks and shaking you around.

Peepaw appreciates all your music tastes. As long as you like it, he'll like it.

You're always in the centre when you three cuddle up. It's hot, they run hot — don't recommend it during summer nights.

Your boyfriends are velcro boyfriends though, good luck.

This is a bit silly, but Corey taught Michael about his job (he talked about the ins and outs of vehicles and Michael listened as he watched Corey work on his bike).

Michael can't be trusted on or in vehicles but there was one occasion where a victim had both you and Corey put in a tough spot and Michael had mowed them down on Corey's bike.

Corey picks you up from work but sometimes, an older man dressed in a rugged leather jacket and motorcycle helmet pops up and your coworkers whisper about you allegedly "cheating" on Corey.

("Cheating?" your coworker nods. They had bumped into Corey in a coffee shop and caught the mechanic, their guilt too strong to keep it a secret. To their surprise, Corey laughs as they describe the mysterious older gentleman with scarred hands. "No, no, (Y/N)'s not cheating — that's our boyfriend", your coworkers could not look you in the eye for a few days after that, much too embarrassed.)

Michael is a fan of watching. He's quite content with it, getting off on watching his beautiful lovers writhing in pleasure.

Corey's just pumped full of stamina — so much energy pent up in his body that quickies are rarely ever quick when it comes to Corey.

When Michael joins though? It's one hell of a ride for everyone.

The reason your bedframe is reinforced and your mattress is huge is so clear when your entire body is covered in teeth marks, bruises, scratches and stained with sweat, tears, blood and cum.

Corey's such an eager puppy. Obedient but so stupid when he's drunk on your taste.

Michael's grunts and growls always have you and Corey whining. His hands are just so big that when they cover your mouth you can barely breathe.

The thrill you get knowing the hands that worship and claim you are the same hands that have slaughtered and murdered countless of people? Indescribable.

Sometimes, when they reach the bedroom before they wash up after a kill they all but pounce on you.

"I'll clean it later" Corey mumbles as he rips your sleeping garments away, Michael holds you firmly to his chest — his raging hardon pressed on your ass as you squirm.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you, just, just needed this" Corey's lips are smeared with blood and spit and when you're on all fours with your face against Michael's crotch you know why. Those bloody streaks on his curved cock belonged to Corey whose fucking the air out of your lungs.

Michael has the best head game, lmao. The old man can deep-throat dick like a professional — Corey came so fast when Michael first did it to him and the both of you could not stop pestering Michael on where he learned how to do that.

He teaches both of you his tricks. Refuses to indulge in how he knows it.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #slasher x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #slashers fic #michael myers x reader x corey cunningham #dating headcanons #michael x reader #michael myers x gn reader #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham x gn reader

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alittlebitofeverythingtbh · 2 years

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Death by Squishmallow

Corey Cunningham x gn!reader

Warnings: some very light soft smut, still 18+ tho, far too many Squishmallows

Authors Note: Due to @ethanhoewke being a genius, I had to write this. Also…do NOT ask to see my Squishmallow collection because it is embarrassing how many I have…

The massive pile of Squishmallows on your bed was bound to be a problem eventually. Sure, it was super comfy. But dear god, how did you sleep with that many? Not to mention Corey was a terrible influence as he just kept bringing more home. You would go out and get yourself a few only to come back and find your boyfriends arms just…full of them. “Look, I just couldn’t leave him,” Corey said as he held up a calico cat one. You probably had at least five different versions of Cam, but Corey pointed out that you didn’t have Cam dressed as a vampire.

Your boyfriend didn’t realize his mistake in throwing so many at you until you found yourselves on your bed with his mouth latched onto your neck and his cock inside you. “Corey,” you whined, “faster.” Your boyfriend obliged, only to get hit in the face with a stuffed french fry named Floyd. The stuffed animal rolled into you, causing the two of you to lose it. Corey looked up at your high pile of Squishmallows, “uh, that looks dangerous.” You snorted, “it’ll be fine, just keep going,” you said as you threw Floyd off to the side somewhere.

Corey started slow again before speeding up his thrusts, only to again to watch as a giant cow fell right on you. “For fucks sake,” he laughed, “you have too many!” “And that’s who’s fault?” you asked with a grin. He sighed and just kept going, trying not to lose it again as he watched more and more Squishmallows fall off the bed or onto you. By the time you two had finished, your entire pile was either on the ground or on the two of you.

“When I said I wanted to lay in your Squishmallow pile, this is not what I meant,” Corey joked with a smile, holding up your cow Ronnie. You laughed, “does this mean you’re going to slow down on getting me any?” He shook his head, “no, I’m going to order some nets to keep them up.” You rolled your eyes.

But he kept his word, and put up the nets himself. You helped him group the various stuffed animals in the nets and finally, your bed wasn’t too bad. Only housing your two giant cat ones and a few smaller ones. You joked, “finally, my bed can be fucked in again.” Corey pretended to cover the ears of your frog Wendy, “baby, not in front of the children!” “Corey, she doesn’t even have ears!” you laughed. “She does in my heart.”

At least your bed COULD be used to fuck in again if Corey hadn’t gone out to Walgreens and gotten you the entire Halloween Squishmallow collection. Dear god, you’d have to order more nets.

#corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #halloween ends

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writing-good-vibes · 4 months

Note

For Valentine's Day, number 1 under angsty prompts. The Replacement. A little bit of jealous ex!Corey maybe...

ahh thank you for your req !!

WARNINGS for (past) corey x gn!reader, jealousy, mildly stalkerish behaviour, dark post accident!corey, mentions of joan being The Worst and mild implications of violence.

💔 very cute divider by @/firefly-graphics 💔

taglist: @slutforstabbings @ethanhoewke @voxmortuus (just let me know if you want to be added or removed !!)

Corey didn't like being jealous. Being jealous made his stomach ache, a horrible sickly feeling deep down in his gut that wouldn't go away, made worse by his tossing and turning at night while he tried to sleep. Being jealous made his fingers hurt, and he'd clench them into fists, hard enough for his blunt nails to leave red crescents in his palms, to try and ease the pressure in his sore knuckles. Being jealous made his eyes water and his chest tight and it made him want to scream, sat in his bed alone at night, watching the radio tower blink tauntingly through his window.

But Corey couldn't help it, Corey was jealous.

Maybe it was his own fault -- it was definitely his own fault -- that you didn't want him anymore, that you got out the first chance you had, that you chose to dodge the bullet that is Corey 'Kid Killer' Cunningham.

And he can't really blame you because he knows that you were getting bored with his reluctance to go anywhere, and with all his nervous habits he still hadn't been able to shake.

He knows it's because the looks got too much for you. Because the mutterings behind your back were starting to take their tole. Because the soda thrown at him from a car window as you walked down the street was only a taste of what was to come.

He really only had himself to blame, and yet he couldn't make himself let go of you so easily. Especially not now he'd seen his replacement.

It's difficult not to compare himself. Corey's been monitoring his placement in every league possible since middle school; popularity, academics, looks. He'd skated along in the middle of the pack popularity-wise, which suited him just fine, and he was never quite top of the class but he was close enough to keep his GPA up, and well... he wasn't winning any prizes compared to some of the guys at school, but he'd lived with it.

But next to his Replacement? Oh, Corey never stood a chance.

And Corey doesn't want to do this. Of course he doesn't. He sees you from across the street, holding his hand. He sees walk you around the dollar store while he pushes the cart. He sees you take him back to your place. And he follows you back to his sometimes too.

Momma's upset with him when he's late for dinner.

It's funny how much he still misses you, even when he sees you all the time. You smile and your smile is like sunshine. You look and your eyes are sharp and clever and deep enough to drown in. Your voice, god he could listen to you forever and ever and never get bored.

He closes his eyes and thinks about it, reconfigures all these sightings onto himself. You smile at him, you look at him, you talk to him, not his replacement

He's cold, and his stomach aches, and his fingers hurt, and his chest is tight when you open your door. He doesn't remember looking through the kitchen draw, or leaving home, or when his cheeks got so wet.

"Corey? Is everything okay?"

Momma always told him no one else would ever love him, and that's Corey down to the bone: always wanting something he can't have.

on the topic of jealousy, you should also read [warnings apply]:

clean again by blake (@/slutforstabbings). after corey survives the events of ends he travels south and, against his better judgement, falls in love with the reader. corey's jealous streak is strong in this story, but it comes up most directly in chapter 7.

rock bottom by toxic (@/toxicanonymity). corey can't decide if he wants to do the reader or michael, so he does both. and even though he gets the best of both worlds, he's still somehow jealous of both of his partners.

#corey cunningham x reader #💗💌 corey's love letters 💌💗#this could never be me because i could never break up with corey #never ever no matter what he did #*except* maybe in a role play situation so he can get all riled up and beat up a guy i'm leading on and then rock my world.#like the toxic couple we are #and then i comfort him with the sweetest softest fluffiest aftercare to promise him i would never break up with him irl #sorry yeah anyway i hope you enjoyed 🤗💗

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pekejscatbed · 1 year

Text

You are my dream come true | Corey Cunningham x gn! Reader

Info/Warning(s):

gender neutral reader, soft sex, sub-top! Corey, soft dom-bottom! Reader, Corey cries

halloween masterlist

———

"You're doing so good for me, baby."

Your voice is soft and sweet, full of love as the one and only Corey Cunningham fucks into you, his average cock dragging slowly against your walls.

One of your hands props you up so you can hold his face with the other, caressing his cheek as he nuzzles into your touch. His eyes are scrunched shut in pleasure as your heat pulses around his cock. His forehead rests lightly against your own, his curly, chestnut hair tickling your face; you don't mind, though.

"Open your eyes for me, love."

Your command is as soft as ever and he does as you ask, coffee eyes slowly opening to stare into your irises with an unfathomable love. You flash him a gentle smile, leaning in to press a light kiss against his lips. And, despite the many times you've kissed him before- despite the intimate moment you currently share, bodies intertwined in the deepest of ways, a light blush still dances across Corey's cheeks.

"You're such a good boy, Core, my good boy, making me feel so good."

He keens at your words, a small grunt falling from his lightly bruised lips. He tilts his head to ask for another kiss and you gladly give him what he wants.

"Such a needy boy, hm?"

You tease against his lips, and he pulls away to bury his face into your neck. You brush his hair with your fingers, being as delicate as you can as to not accidentally pull.

His hips stutter and you know he's close, and you are too.

"I love you, Corey."

You whisper into his ear, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple.

"Be a good boy and cum for me, baby."

His hips still as your heat tightens around him and you feel him release inside you. His breath is heavy against your neck, and as he finishes, you feel something wet touch your skin.

"Corey? Are you okay, baby?"

Your voice is gentle, loving and full of concern.

He nods into your neck, and you guide his head away, bringing him face to face with you. His eyes are rimmed red, and his lashes are shiny with tears, his face is flushed and beads of sweat slowly drip down his face to mix with his salty tears.

"My love..."

You frown as you wipe away his tears with your thumbs, holding his face in your hands as if you were holding the world- in your eyes you are, in your eyes Corey is your world.

Corey only smiles at you, gentle as he brings his forehead to yours once again.

"I'm okay. I just..."

He trails off as he stares deep into your eyes, his smile only growing wider. He leans in to kiss you.

"I just really love you, too."

You smile at his words, meeting him halfway to capture his lips with yours; the kiss is soft and gentle to match your love, showing one another just how deep your feelings for the other run.

When he pulls out, some of his seed drips from your hole and you squirm at the uncomfortable feeling. He chuckles at you, though he doesn't say anything, instead moving to kiss you once more, then twice, then thrice.

You laugh into the third kiss, gently pushing away.

There's no place I'd rather be, the two of you think as your eyes meet, no person I'd rather love, you smile at each other.

There really is no place you'd rather be, not when you have your Corey Cunningham right here with you; there really is no person Corey would rather love, not when his soulmate is right in front of him.

#corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #halloween 2022 #gender neutral reader #x reader #Kenny Writes Shit

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lostcybertronian · 2 years

Text

Someone in Your House

Ends!Michael Myers x gn!reader. Trigger warnings for blood and stabbings.

Also Corey is a little bitch.

---

There’s someone in your house. There’s the quiet thunk of the plastic screen door settling against a door frame warped from weather and time, the tiniest creak of a footstep over laminate wood, and you’re shoving the covers aside and rolling out of bed, adrenaline running goosebumps down your arms and electrifying your blood.

You have a terrifying feeling that you know exactly who is in your house.

You reach the stairs in time to see a flicker, below. A passing shadow, heading toward your kitchen and, you’re certain, the big wooden butcher block where you keep your knives. Your heartbeat quickens; your hands tremble against the wooden banister. For years, you’ve waited for him to come back, and now he has.

You descend the stairs silently, follow the shape into the kitchen. Call softly, “Michael?” But the shape was gone; no silhouette stood framed against the moonlight drifting through the kitchen window above the sink.

Then something hits you from behind.

Your knees cracked to the floor and you used all your weight to flip on your back as a heavy weight pressed down, a dingy, half-melted mask looming out of the dim and a wickedly sharp carving knife poised above. “Michael!” You gasp, but there’s no answer. Not even a head tilt. The realization comes to you suddenly, hits you like a freight train: this isn’t Michael.

True to form; the knife buries itself in your shoulder instead of your chest, missing the chance to kill you in one blow. In the searing pain that follows you smash your head into his so hard you see stars.

The imposter yells and falls backward, ripping the knife from your shoulder and sending it skittering away, out of your reach. Despite the pain and the blood gushing from your shoulder you roll onto him, grabbing his shoulders and slamming him into the floor; his head connects with a crack. You straddle him with your hips, immobilizing him so you can fumble to peel off the mask with blood-slick hands.

“Who are you, really?” You snarl, and in moments the deep brown eyes of Corey Cunningham stare up at you, furious and bewildered. You’re surprised enough that he’s able to heave you off him, and again you two roll and hit the wall. Blood coats the floor, and you, and him.

After a brief struggle, he ends up on top, his hands wrapped around your throat, thumbs digging into the hollow.

“How did you know?” He shakes you; you choke, your eyes roll. You spot another figure, notice now your front door is wide open. Cool, night breeze washes over you both.

The real Shape steps out from the shadows behind the door and surveys you. Tilts his head. After years of working at Smith’s Grove– and even more years of being Michael’s only visitor after you left– you can read the agitation in the tense slump of his shoulders, the mute fury in his eye. He stares at his mask, left discarded on the floor.

You can’t help but smile, even as you choke and black crawls at the edges of your vision.

“Why are you smiling?” Corey roars, slamming your head to the floor. He sounds upset; tears prick at his eyes. One wells over, and you watch it track slowly down his dirt-crusted cheek. “How did you know?”

You smile wider. Watch as Michael lifts a knife. Bite out, “Michael wouldn’t have missed.”

Corey gets it too late. Michael plunges the knife into his back, the tip protruding from his chest. He gurgles something unintelligible and slumps on top of you as Michael stabs him again. And again.

Meanwhile, you gasp for air with throbbing lungs, nearly pass out anyway. Your vision swims in and out of focus but still you can’t take your eyes off Michael as he drops the knife to the floor with a clatter and snatches up the mask, pulling it back over his head. The relief is immediate; his shoulders drop a fraction, his heavy breathing quiets.

He seems to remember you’re there and tilts his head to stare at you.

“Hi Michael,” you plaster on a watery smile. It’s genuine, but it takes a lot of effort. “I knew you’d come back.”

Michael shuffles forward, his boots creaking across the floor. The last thing you see before you finally do pass out is Corey’s body being dragged off you and the last thing you hear is Michael’s slow, steady breathing.

—

You’re not in your house when you wake up.

One machine beeps to your left. Another machine beeps to your right. Your head pounds; you’re loath to open your eyes. But still, you force it. Curtains ring your bed and a nurse hovers nearby, poking at your shoulder for a second before turning to inject something into the long tube connecting your hand to an IV bag. Outside the small halo cast by the bed’s built-in light, the ward is dark.

“Welcome back,” she says, her back to you. “You’ve had quite the night.”

“Am I-”

She nods. “Haddonfield General. Good thing we got the call when we did, you’d have bled out otherwise.” She pauses. “Never seen Michael Myers let someone live before.”

Did Michael…? You struggle to think. Your fingers start to tingle, and your body is warm and heavy beneath the weight of the blankets and drugs. You want to go to sleep. “What about Corey?”

“Who?” The nurse blinks at you. “You were alone, hun. Michael Myers attacked you, don’t you remember?”

Slowly, you shake your head. Wince.

The nurse tuts. “You wouldn’t, I suppose. One hell of a concussion you’ve got.”

She finishes her tasks and flips off the light. “Sleep well.”

You’re left in the dark. The dark and, past the steady whir of hospital machinery, the breathing.

Michael materializes from the dim like a ghost. Even here, he’s silent. He comes to stand beside your bed, staring at you and breathing. There’s a bloody wound in the left side of his chest, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

You reach out with your uninjured hand to brush the dirty fabric of his coveralls. The IV tube pulls uncomfortably, but you ignore it, making sure to keep your voice down. “Did Corey hurt you?”

He tilts his head and his body shifts as if to say, Really?

“You’re right,” you say, even though he never spoke a word. A laugh shakes your chest, and you groan as pain spikes through your shoulder and head. “I guess I shouldn’t be one to talk.”

“But you should really get out of here,” you tell him. “You don’t want to get caught.”

He huffs quietly, and bends, lifting one hand to your face. It’s brief; a half second-long touch of the thumb. Then, he withdraws. Then, he’s gone, disappearing back into the shadows of the ward like he’d never been there in the first place.

You’re alone, and the last thought you have before allowing sleep to take you is that you have no doubt you’ll find Michael safe at your house when you get back.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #old man!myers #halloween ends #halloween kills #halloween #fanfiction #lostandwandering #my writing #lost writing tag #horror #hurt/comfort #tw blood #tw physical violence #tw knife #tw stabbing

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slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

Text

The Modern Persephone

Corey Cunningham x gn!Reader

With Michael gone you're ready to start your new life. But you refuse to do it alone. This takes place right after the end of Ends and Reader is essentially a gender neutral Allyson, everything that happened in the movie more or less happened to Reader.

Warnings - angst, animal death, semi-graphic descriptions of corpses and guts

4,380 words

@rebel-blue @nachtmahr666 @vanellygal

You sit in the hospital cafeteria and sip a coffee. You haven’t slept in days, the dark circles under your eyes steadily spreading. If you don’t sleep soon they might engulf your whole face. You know you reek too, you haven’t showered and you’ve almost finished the pack of cigarettes you found in the pocket of Corey’s leather jacket, even tho you’d never smoked before Monday. None of that matters to you though. There’s something much more important on your mind.

You check your phone. She’s late. You bounce your leg anxiously and scan the room for her. Finally you see her striding towards you.

“Oh my god,” she says when she sees you, voice full of concern. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You let out a dry little laugh. “I barely recognize myself.”

“I heard what happened to Corey Cunningham. You guys were dating? I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. That’s actually why I wanted to meet you. I know you can find out what’s happening with his body.”

The woman sitting across from you is Emily, a friend you’d made in nursing school. When you met she was already a nurse, but studying to be a pathologist, and had been the TA for your anatomy class. You had asked her a lot of questions over coffee during that semester, trying to be a good student, and a bond had formed between you in the process. You don’t hang out much, but she’s one of the only people in Haddonfield you trust. Now she works for the county morgue, where you know they took Corey’s body after the events on Halloween.

“His body?” She asks, surprised.

“Yeah. His parents are dead and he wasn’t in contact with any other family members. I know I don’t have any legal standing, we weren’t dating very long before he died, but I should be his next of kin and I want to decide what happens to his body.”

“If you have no legal standing to claim his body and they can’t get in contact with someone who does, the county will probably just cremate him on the cheap and scatter his ashes in the Illinois River.”

“No!” You exclaim, sounding more forceful than you meant to. “He wouldn’t have wanted to be cremated, I know he wouldn’t.” You say more calmly.

It’s not true. You have no idea what Corey would have wanted. But you know what you want, and you need his body to be fully intact. You pray they didn’t autopsy him.

“Well, I can do some digging for you, but if he’s scheduled for cremation already there’s probably nothing we can do.”

“Thank you, Emily.”

“Are you gonna be okay? You can call me if you need anything. I know you’ve been through a lot and this whole thing is terrible. I’m here if you need me.” She does look genuinely sad and concerned about you. It breaks through the shell you’ve been wearing the past few days, and you feel a single tear run down your face. “I gotta go, I only had a couple minutes free, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” she says as she stands up from the table.

You watch her walk away. Then you pound back what’s left of your coffee and go home.

Home isn’t really home right now. You’re staying with Lindsey. You can’t bear to be in your grandmother’s house with that big dark stain where Corey bled. You know exactly why the Allens abandoned their house after Jeremy died, haunted by the trauma they endured, and constantly reminded by that unholy discoloration on the foyer floor.

In the parking lot you pull his cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. You’ve scarcely taken it off since you put it on to go meet him on Halloween. Wearing his jacket feels like he’s still with you, just a little bit, and smoking his cigarettes does too. But to your dismay, there’s only two left in the box, and you can’t smoke the last one, it’s his lucky. You put them back in your pocket for now.

When you get to Lindsey’s house, you write her a note. You don’t think you’ll still be here when she gets home, but you feel bad leaving without saying goodbye. You’ve already said all your other goodbyes, meeting your grandma earlier in the day. Lindsey’s the only one left. You appreciate her letting you stay, and giving you full access to everything in her house. You stick the note to her fridge with a magnet. Then you go gather some sticks from outside. You tie them together with string, breaking them to the right length and crossing them over each other so they look vaguely like a person.

Your phone rings. Emily.

“That was fast,” You say instead of Hello.

“He’s scheduled for cremation tomorrow. If you want to see him, you can come to the morgue right now, but you gotta be quick, I’m only alone down here for a little while. As far as preventing the county from going through with the cremation, there’s paperwork you can fill out, but I don’t know if you’ll be able to file it in time to stop them.”

“Okay, I’m coming. I’ll see you in a couple minutes.” You hang up, jump in your car, and speed towards the morgue.

When you get there, the receptionist tries to make you sign in as a visitor. You’re tempted to give a fake name but she asks for your ID. You really didn’t want there to be a record of you being here. You pat your pockets stupidly and tell her you think you left your wallet in the car. You walk back outside and call Emily.

She tells you to come to the back and she’ll let you in the service entrance. It makes her nervous to do so but she can understand, the way this town talks, not wanting your name on the morgue sign in sheet. You drive your car to the back of the building and park with your back end facing the door. Emily ushers you in, down some long hallways, and finally to the room with all the drawers for bodies. It looks exactly how it does on tv, you think.

She leads you to a specific drawer.

“Are you sure you’re ready to see him?” She asks, eyebrows knit together in concern.

“I was there when he died, I can handle seeing him dead.”

“A fresh body is different from one that’s been in storage for several days. He won’t quite look like… himself.”

“I’m ready. Show me.”

Emily purses her lips like she doesn’t believe you, but she unlatches the door and pulls the drawer out.

She was right, you weren’t ready. Your vision tunnels and you’re losing your balance. You think you feel yourself wailing, but you don’t hear any sound. Emily runs around the drawer to catch you as your knees give out. She locks you in her arms and you sob into her chest.

“Shhh. I’m so sorry,” she says soothingly. “I can push the drawer back in while you face away”

“No. I have to see him.” You pull away from her and wipe your tears. Then you brace yourself and turn back to his body.

Corey, this thing that used to be Corey, lays flat on his back, eyes wide open, looking straight up. His curly hair is splayed out limply around his head. His beautiful pink lips are ashen and deflated. The holes where he was stabbed and shot are clean and bloodless, but they gape wide open with ragged edges and you can see inside his body. As a nurse and as a survivor of so much violence, the wounds wouldn’t bother you if they were fresh and flowing with hot, red blood. But seeing them like this turns your stomach.

Despite your nausea, you lean down and look at him more closely. Thankfully he hasn’t been autopsied or embalmed. You take his face between your hands and his head lolls wrongly on his broken neck. You plant a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Help me get him out of here,” you say.

“What!?”

“If I can’t file the paperwork to have his body released to me in time, I’m just going to take him. I have blankets in my car we can wrap him in.”

Emily sighs your name. “That’s not a good idea. What are you going to do with him?”

“I’m gonna bring him back,” you say, finally looking up from his face.

“You what?” She replies, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna bring him back! I’ve been doing research on how. I think I have it figured out. Listening to Willy the Kid spew all his bullshit about how Corey and Michael were the tools of some evil cult… it got me thinking. I know they weren’t, I know there’s no cult, but what if the kind of magic he was talking about is real. Lindsey’s gotten into witchcraft since she survived. Everyone knows she reads tarot, but that’s not all she does. I’ve been staying with her. She has all these books I’ve been reading.”

“You’re not making sense,” Emily says. “You’re grieving, you lost your parents, and your boyfriend, and now you’ve lost another boyfriend, and you helped kill a man. You’ve been through so much, I understand this coping mechanism but -”

“You’re not listening to me!” you hiss, cutting her off. “I killed a frog. I trapped it in Lindsey’s garden and I stabbed a knife straight through it. Then I combined some of the spells and techniques I’d been reading about. And the frog came back. It hopped away like nothing happened.”

Emily says your name quietly. “Please, listen to yourself,” she begs. “You’re not okay.”

“You don’t have to believe me! You don’t have to help me! Just stay out of my fucking way!” You wrap your arms around Corey’s shoulders, cradling his ragdoll head, and try to pull him out of the drawer.

“Stop! Stop stop stop,” Emily cries, pulling your arms from around him. She restrains you for a moment, then she sighs and releases you. “I’ll help you take him. Let’s go get the blankets from your car.”

The two of you sprint down the hallways. She props the door open while you get a big bundle of blankets out of your backseat. Then you run back to the room where Corey still lays in his half open drawer. You drape the blankets over an autopsy table and roll it to him. Emily shows you how she was taught to move bodies by herself, gently sliding him onto the table. Then you tuck and fold the blankets around his body, almost like swaddling a baby.

Emily pushes the autopsy table back down the hallways and out the back door. You practice the technique she showed you to move his body from the autopsy table to your backseat by yourself. It’s more difficult than she made it look, but hopefully you’ll only have to do it a couple times.

“I can’t thank you enough,” you say, closing your car door.

“No, you can’t,” she says, and laughs a little. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna tell my boss.”

“I’m sorry I put you in that position,” you say. “I’m confident you’ll think of something believable.” You reach out and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Good luck with your reanimation.” She says it like she means it but her face looks more like she’s telling you not to touch a hot stove.

You smile despite her concern. Then you get in your car and drive away.

You only go a couple miles before pulling into a gas station. You take your person-shaped bundle of sticks out of the glove box. When you put your hand on Emily’s shoulder, you’d plucked one of her long, golden hairs off her shirt. You tie it onto the bundle of sticks, and then you unspool most of a roll of medical tape, wrapping it around the poppet you made and chanting.

“I bind you, Emily. From telling anyone that I took Corey’s body. From telling anyone what I said about bringing him back. I bind you from trying to contact me, or Lindsey, or Grandma.” You repeat it over and over, focusing hard, imagining her trying to tell someone what happened, but red ropes coming from nowhere and wrapping her up so she can’t. You feel sort of bad doing it, but it’s what needs to be done to protect you and Corey in your new lives.

Then you go into the store and buy as many bags of ice as you can carry at once. You pile them in the backseat on top of Corey’s body. You move the car to a pump and fill up. With a full tank of gas, you leave the station and just drive.

You don’t know where you’re going. You and Corey hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about where you’d go to start your new life together. But it doesn’t matter that much. Right now you just need to get distance between you and Haddonfield. Once he’s back you can iron out all the other details.

You keep the heat turned down kind of low even when your knuckles get stiff and painful inside your gloves. You have to prolong the life of the ice as much as you can. When you come to a crossroads in an empty little midwestern nowhere, you toss the poppet you made of Emily out the window. Goodbye, friend. Thank you for everything.

When you notice yourself starting to drift off to sleep, and in turn, off the road, you take an exit that advertises a super 8, and get a room. It pains you deeply but you leave Corey in the car while you take a shower and sleep for a little over an hour. You really needed the rest, and you had to wait until there would be fewer witnesses.

When you wake it’s early morning, the sky mostly inky blue but already purple-gray on the edges. You go out to the car and gather up all the ice. The bags leak a little, but the cold outside has persevered most of it. You dump a little less than half of it into the bathtub. Then you go back outside to get him. The distance between your car and the door to your room is as short as it could be, but still longer than you had to carry him at the morgue. He’s not that much bigger than you, but he feels enormous in your exhausted arms as you fight to get him across the threshold.

As soon as the door is closed you collapse, dropping Corey on top of you. You break down crying.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry we didn’t leave sooner. I should’ve listened to you, I should’ve left work to come to you. You were right, I didn’t have enough bandages to keep you together. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I do now. We’re out of Haddonfield and everything’s going to be okay.” You ramble to the bundle of blankets pinning you to the floor. Stroking where you think his cheeks are underneath.

You pull yourself out from under him, unwrap him from the bundle of blankets and, mustering every ounce of strength you have left, you get him off the floor and into the bathtub. You pour the rest of the ice over him. You want to get started, right now, but after you’d brought the frog back you’d been so hungry and tired from the amount of effort it took. You know you won’t be successful with Corey if you’re not better rested, and he deserves you at your best. So you go back into the bedroom and sleep again.

This time when you wake, it’s been far longer than an hour. You don’t know what time it is, you’ve had your phone turned off since you went into the morgue, and you don’t want to turn it on until your ritual is complete. It’s dark outside again, fully dark, but brightly illuminated by the full moon. You didn’t time it to the moon on purpose, but it feels like an incredible omen that it’s full tonight of all nights. You walk across the street to a brightly glowing Denny’s and order a massive spread to go. Pancakes, grits, eggs, bacon and sausage, French fries, burgers, slices of pie, coffee and soda and tea.

You nibble on some of it, eating an okay sized meal, but you leave most of it alone. Corey will probably be hungry when he gets back and you want to be sure you’ll have something he’ll want to eat.

It’s finally time. You sit on your knees beside the bathtub, everything you need around you. You light the last cigarette besides the lucky one and take a deep drag. You know Corey, who had been through so much shit, took great stock in turning one cigarette filter down in every new pack, and waiting to smoke it until all the others were gone. He didn’t believe it really did anything lucky, but opening the pack and seeing it there soothed him somehow. You’re saving it for when he gets back.

First, you open a little jar of a potion you made out of things from Lindsey’s kitchen. It’s olive oil based, but it has a texture like butter from being in the cold car. You scoop some up in your fingers and smear it into his wounds. The way they look still makes you feel sick, but you power through the waves of disgust to pack them full of the potion.

The frog story you told Emily wasn’t the whole truth. You’d killed three frogs. The first one you couldn’t bring back. It twitched like it was considering it, but ultimately decided not to. The second one you brought back easily, but you didn’t do anything about the stab wound you inflicted on it, and as it hopped away, its guts fell out and it died again. The third frog you’d given this potion and sutured its wounds closed. It came back to life more easily than the other two and survived the night. You’d seen it the next morning, wounds already almost fully healed, seemingly exactly the same as before you’d trapped it.

You tell yourself Corey will be just like the third frog as you open a fresh suture needle and sew his wounds closed. After his neck and his shoulder are taken care of, you check his left hand, knowing his stitches had been torn out and he’d started showing signs of infection. It’s the worst looking wound by far and you have to fight your reflexes hard to even touch it. But you do what needs to be done. You give him a shot of antibiotics from a bottle you stole from work. You want it to start circulating the second his heart starts beating again.

Now is the moment of truth. You close your eyes and put your hands on him. You recite the spell you wrote, cobbled together from fragments from Lindsey’s books. You imagine Corey’s spirit, existing somewhere in the dark. While your mouth moves, repeating the words over and over again, you imagine your consciousness going to find him.

In your head, you walk through a black void. The echo of your footsteps is the only sensory input. Where are you, Corey? Then you see him. Standing in front of you, back turned. You move to stand next to him and take his hand. He looks at you with his big brown eyes and smiles.

“Come with me,” you say and take a step forward. Corey stands still. You step backwards to stand next to him again. “Corey, come with me.”

You fight to stay calm as you try repeatedly to get him to come with you. He smiles at you sweetly but refuses to follow you, standing there with his hand limply in yours until you walk so far ahead of him he slips out of your grasp.

“Come with me! Come with me, Corey, please!” You beg him, tugging on his arm. Tears stream down your real life face from under your closed eyelids, your physical mouth still chanting your spell. “Everything will be okay, you just have to come with me!” He doesn’t budge.

You open your eyes. There he is in the tub, surrounded by more water than ice as it melts slowly in the heat of the hotel room. Still just as dead. You shove your fist in your mouth and scream around it. Then you center yourself the best you can. Taking deep, shuddering breaths. You sit on the edge of the tub instead of on the ground beside it, and put your hands on his face instead of his chest. You don’t know if this matters. The frogs were so small you could just cup them in your hands. You close your eyes and start chanting again.

Just as before, you see Corey from behind. But this time he turns around to face you before you’re next to him. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey!” You launch yourself into his arms. He catches you in a hug and laughs. “Come with me!” You say excitedly. You feel him stirring in your real hands. “Everything will be okay if you just come with me.”

Suddenly his cheeks feel warm. You open your eyes, but don’t stop chanting until his eyes flutter closed, then open again.

“Corey?” You say.

He tries to say your name but all that comes out is a gurgling sound. You don’t know if it’s from the stab wound in his neck or the fact that his vocal cords have been sitting dry and unused for almost a week now.

“Don’t speak! It’s okay.” You lean down and put your ear to his chest. You hear his heart beating extremely faintly. He shivers in the ice water. “Are you cold?” You ask. He groans.

You help him stand in the tub. His head rolls to one side, his neck healing, but still kind of broken. You dry him off and wrap him up in blankets. You should’ve brought something for him to wear, but it didn’t occur to you that he would be naked when you got him from the morgue. You keep one towel dry, and roll it up to use like a neck brace, sitting Corey upright in the bed and tucking the towel around him to keep his head upright while his body goes through the accelerated healing process brought on by the magic.

You hover over him, watching nervously. You’re scared that the spell will wear off somehow, that you should have practiced on something bigger than a frog first. Or dead longer. You feel as fragile as he looks, extremely spent from the power required by the spell. But his color slowly improves, going from gray to pink with the sky outside as the sun rises.

You ask if he’s hungry and present him with the feast you got at Denny’s. He eats it ravenously, sampling everything. He seems much better after that. Better enough to try talking again.

“What happened?” He asks, his voice a barely intelligible rasp.

“You died on Halloween. I watched the light leave your eyes. But I wasn’t going to start our new life without you,” you say. “I brought you back.”

“How?” He croaks.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I learned a spell. I don’t really understand how it works. But I found you and led you back to your body.”

“You still want me? I killed so many people.”

“No, Corey, Michael killed those people,” you say in a soothing tone. You smooth his hair. He starts to protest but you talk over him. “Michael killed those people. But my grandma and I killed Michael..”

Corey’s eyes widen. “Are you sure he’s really dead?”

“We put him in the shredder at the shop. He’s gone forever.” You smile and squeeze Corey’s hand. “With him gone, grandma let me go. We’re free now.”

You reach into your pocket and pull out the battered box of Marlboro Reds, flipping it open to show him the inside. “I'm sorry, I smoked most of the cigarettes you left behind. But I saved you your lucky one. I knew it had to be the first one for when you came back.”

Corey reaches out and takes it from the box. You flick the lighter and hold it out to him. He leans forward and lights the cigarette. Watching him smoke it you can’t help but smile. Everything has been so hard for so long, but the cherry at the end of that cigarette looks like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Corey sleeps. You know he probably needs the rest to heal, to be all the way back. But it scares you. What if he doesn’t wake up? You drift off beside him but jerk awake to check on him over and over again.

The only place you can get him clothes nearby is a Tractor Supply Co but that’s good enough. You leave him in the hotel bed and race around the store. When you unlock the door to the room you’re so certain he’ll be dead again in there. But he isn’t. He’s still as you left him, watching the ancient TV set.

As Corey dresses in the clothes you bought him, and you clean up the room he gets a sensation like someone is watching him, but it’s different from the way that usually feels. It’s almost like the person watching him is inside him. Using his eyes to monitor where he is. He looks in the mirror. That’s him, looking back, but something about him isn’t right. He chalks it up to being reanimated. But he can’t help but wonder. If you could bring him back… How can it be true that Michael is gone forever?

Corey feels a strong, almost instinctive urge to cover his face.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends #fan fiction #mine

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