Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson:

• "Frank, ugh,"
• Danny wasn't exactly the jealous type.
• That still didn't mean he didn't practically slit your throat right here and then.
• A near unknown feeling enticed him, which wasn't shocking as he didn't precisely possess a lot formerly.
• Had you forgotten about his camera roll or something?
• Not only were there were some of his best work in there with the shots including you, sometimes parts of himself, and not a lot of clothing.
• You knew he was special. In all honesty, how many people could you say had dominated you like Danny while making art, after all?
• And he could show it all to Mr. Legion himself, if it came to it. You did look good in his shroud and nothing else, as well as bound to different objects both in private and public with thick, strong cords. Not to toot his own horn — you did that for him anyway — Danny knew his way around ropes.
• It'd be a shame if they were never seen by anybody other than you two, anyway. 'Thought I'd do you a favor, Frankie. You'll never get to experience this, this and this...'
• His visual memory wasn't half bad, the photos flashing in his mind. Of course, it helped that he had been there to experience everything he captured.
• "Just like that," He had mandated many sinful angles and positions, picking the best ones to capture at any given opportunity. Rather than being proof of your intimacy, l they were memorabilia of intimacy but once Danny put his feet down and let everybody know how much you belonged to him, definitions only held him back.
• If he could help it, it didn't really matter whatever you dreamed.
• If you or your mind did persist, you'd just have to face the painful consequences.
• Nothing stopped him in here, did it? You couldn't, and anyone else simply wouldn't.
• He did own you, but it was better than being owned by his knife, you'd surely agree.

Michael Myers:

• The term slept like a rock did apply to Michael too, only in connotation, of course. He was somewhere between asleep and awake when he heard you whine.
• Were you having a nightmare?
• He had them from time to time too, although he wasn't quite as reactive as you. But then again, that's how he was.
• The visions must have been really out there in terms of scariness, or at least that was what Michael was inclined to believe when you grabbed onto his arm.
• Fortunately, Michael knew both fear and sleep made controlling your body all too difficult, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the sudden contact too kindly.
• Well, that just about turned out to be the understatement of the century.
• Apparently his limb wasn't a sufficient sacrifice as he initially thought it had been, as your body seemed to take up his side now, but surely you'd stop there?
• Oh how wrong he was once again.
• Were you.. humping? "J-Jake," Oh, so you definitely were.
• With understanding came hostility as he grabbed your shoulder, shoving you down on your back and jolting you awake which of course put an early end on to your lustful fantasy.
• Your drowsy eyes met the black holes of his mask and a yelp escaped your lips. "Michael?"
• While your voice had wavered saying his name, his breathing pattern was brisker than usual due to the current situation. He qas 'confronting' you, in his own manners. "What's wrong?"
• Michael gave a nod which pointed upwards. You, the message was clear.
• "Me? What about m—" The question was cut short as his hand had suddenly decided to explore your body down. "Michael, what are you—"
• It would seem he had found the evidence he was after. Landing on your panties, his fingers came to a halt.
• Soaked, just as Michael had thought. "Ah, hey—"
• Try to hide as you might, you couldn't help the pathetic noise that came out of your parted lips. Even if it had been a result of surprise for the most part, a hint of arousal from your unfinished dream business could still be sensed, which must've done nothing else except encourage Michael.
• His digits crept their way under your undergarment as you made no effort to stop neither them or him.
• Touching you bare now, normally he'd add some more moisture to make playing with you easier, if he felt like removing his cover. Right now, though, he could feel your keen sex didn't require any help. Michael's fingertips were coated with your slickness.
• Just when you could enjoy the feeling of being touched, he abandoned your sensitive spot.
• "Wh- Michael, why did you stop?" You tried to obtain any explanation for the way he was acting, all the while knowing no hint was coming and it was your personal job to figure out the reason.
• There was little to no reasoning on why Michael had decided to leave you hot and bothered.
• You could do with a little teasing, as a small punishment. It was the fairest he had been in his whole life, to be honest, while still being a little shit.
• Plus, he had already proven to both you and himself that he was the one for you, and refuting that fact with any kind of behavior had repercussions.

Herman Carter:

• "Oh, Kazan!"
• Herman didn't need much sleep to begin with, but he especially didn't need to hear you utter the name of another man as he got some shut-eye, no pun intended.
• You did realize he had not only the means to pass an electric current through your body in more ways than one, but the will too, right? Perhaps it wasn't engraved in your memory as strongly as he had previously thought.
• Being asleep or unconscious was never a excuse. You should've known there would be consequences, down to a subliminal level.
• Herman considered his choice of action. Like always, he was far from being at loss about what to do about your mishap. It was more about himself, a habit, his M.O even to consider the possibilities and determine the best outcome.
• He deduced you had no shame whatsoever. What would Rin, the closest thing to a friend you had in this hellish realm, would have to say to you having inappropriate visions about her grandfather?
• As tempting as shocking you right up from your sweet slumber was, Herman came to another conclusion.
• Discipline.
• It didn't matter if you were his significant other. He had done the worst of the worst to his mentors, after all.
• If you wanted anything else besides ending up as just another casualty of his madness-induced science experiments, you'd learn to conform.
• Conform in this case, of course, meaning screaming his name until he was pleased with the results.
• In bed and any other surface used during this, he didn't need a punishing stick or a static blast. Soon you learned the only name that was allowed to come out of your mouth was Herman's.
• Thankfully, the 'treatment' was a success, as his next favorable option had included not-so-private sex in the Japanese family estate.

Frank Morrison:

• Frank opened his eyes. Some gibberish noise his alert ears had picked up had stirred him awake.
• His right hand went to grab his knife on instinct while half-lidded eyes sleepily scanned the surroundings, his room, to see if anything, or anyone, was out of place. The weapon was kept in a bedside drawer whenever you came over and spent time together in his bed.
• When your ever-the-protector concluded that it was safe, he turned to his side and moved a lazy hand to your waist. Comfortable once more, he nearly dozed off before another sound, much more comprehensible this time, halted his drift like no other threat. "Mm, Leon."
• Leon?
• Frank's eyes shot open once more.
• That Kennedy fuck? Rage ignited in his chest like a hot ball of flame, and it was sure as hell hotter than the fireplace downstairs, or whatever you and that dumb blonde fucking loser was doing in your imagination.
• Frank's jaw tightened. Normally, he would have laughed at the irony of someone screwing a murderer in their day-to-day life and a rookie, useless, cop in their nightly dreams but it was you, and you were his. Had you forgotten which side you were on when you laid right next to your boyfriend, the murderer in question?
• You were his, Frank's palm squeezed the exposed flesh it laid on, His. He'd be ecstatic to provide you with a review lesson, it'd be a reminder to who was 'the real one to touch you, the one and only one getting to actually fuck you'.
• Just then, you let out another whimper, thank fuck you didn't say that name again, but nonetheless anger roused out of him once again. Frank had been administering a lot of control until now, but you were pushing it.
• It took a lot out of him to no shove you on your stomach with brute strength and question you senseless, only the interrogation would have left you sore and get you killed in trials that followed.
• Trials. Of course. Did he have to watch Leon around the campfire now? Frank would surely lose it if the amateur man tried to come onto you. Figuratively, of course, as he was the only one to do that literally. Maybe he could ask Danny to keep an eye on him instead.
• It didn't matter if you wouldn't actually betray him for anyone else, you weren't off the hook. Verbatim, of course, as any trials with him as the killer after the incident would be nowhere near manageable with him being extra violent than anyone could be ever used to.
• The worst part, at least for you, was yet to come, however. Figuring out the exact cause of his clear frustration was no easy task, as Frank's usual mood was grumpy in nature and even then, he was not exactly willing to voice the issue outright this time.
• He was, however, giving you a lot of suspicious one-overs without your knowledge throughout the week, which unfortunately were no hint to you as the smiling mask more often than not covered his face.
• The problem more than dawned on you when instead of what can be considered as his version of sweet nothings, he expressed something else while he took utmost advantage of Julie, Susie, and Joey gone once. "Can Leon make you feel like this?"
• His hips weren't the only thing repeatedly hitting your body as his warm breath tickled the soft spot between your ear and neck. That in itself was substantial in sending chills down your spine, a satisfying result of his favorite position where he held all the power over you. "Can he? Tell me."
• Even with all the added labor of taunting you, Frank was restless. He'd continue to be, until you could convince him that Frank was the only one you'd submit to.