Killers' Reactions To A Reader Who's Pants Were Pulled Down While They Were On A Hook. (Part One).

Killers' reactions to a reader who's pants were pulled down while they were on a hook. (Part one).

Michael

He heard you scream a second time a few seconds after hooking you, and he suspiciously turned around to see you struggling to cover your vividly exposed crotch. Ace and Nea giggled loudly just behind some bushes to the right. They must have been the ones who did this.

Whenever you noticed his lingering gaze, Michael didn't like the way you flinched in horror, your body shaking as you cried in embarrassment and fear. Honestly, what a sucky thing to do to someone who was literally about to die.

Since they were here, Michael marched over to the unsuspecting survivors, immediately sliced open Ace's back and reached out for Nea's throat. With Nea dead on the ground and Ace perched on a hook, he went back to you.

You wouldn't look at him as one hand covered your face and the other lay splayed over your crotch, whimpers and cries endlessly filling the atmosphere. You looked miserable.

Sliding his knife in his pocket, Michael bent down, startling you as his bloody hands grabbed the edges of your pants and swiftly pulled them up over your hips. Then he casually stepped back, taking in your gasp and the look of utter shock and gratitude on your face. Hmp...

Michael's smirk was hidden behind his mask as he turned away. Maybe he'd give that last survivor some time to pull you off the hook before ending this trial.

Jeffrey

He was in the midst of chasing Feng when he lost her behind some pillars. Then he heard a loud, defensive shout and raised a brow as he followed the trail that led to the exact spot you were hooked, and...

"Well hot damn," Jeffrey's eyes went wide as he stared down at your exposed crotch. You shrieked in surprise at his presence and quickly reached down to cover yourself, your face flushed and body trembling in humiliation.

Smirking with a chuckle, Jeffrey took a few steps forward and shamelessly continued to look at you, "So was you survivors being naughty little things, or are you just tryin' to show off?"

As you painfully turned your flustered face as far off to the side as you possibly could, whimpering in a mixture of fear and embarrassment, Jeffrey heard laughter and turned to see Feng and Meg high-five each other in victory before sprinting away.

"Aw hell," Jeffrey chuckled, amused by the whole charade as he moved forward and reached down to yank your pants up. "Ain't nothin' worth gettin' all embarrassed about."

Grinning once he was done, Jeffrey looked right into your flustered, shocked eyes, his voice becoming a seductive whisper as he lifted sir-cuts-a-lot and languidly licked the dull edge, "Anyone ever tell ya I'm good at usin' my mouth?"

As you bashfully keened in embarrassment, Jeffrey patted your head and took off, eager to see if the survivors would conjure another pants prank.

Herman

Using his static blast, Herman had expected that you would have been pulled from the hook by the time he returned to capture your friends, but... Apparently not.

Whenever Herman arrived on scene, there were no other survivors to be found, but you... You were in a struggle- your limbs thrashing around and your mouth hung open in a panic as you fought to pull up your pants and underwear, and when you finally noticed him, you screamed in terror.

Unlatching his mouth straps, Herman set his bat down and walked up to you, "How did this happen?"

You were sobbing into one of your hands while covering your privates with the other, "D-David."

Good grief. Herman sighed, dissatisfied by this display of disrespect and ill mannerism. You were a mess too, crying and shaking and trying to hide yourself from him, vulnerable, humiliated and exposed. "Do I have your permission 'to'?" He kept his glowing eyes on yours, mindlessly gesturing to your nether regions.

"Please..." You sputter, desperately trying to hide yourself away.

"Hold still," Herman stepped up to you and reached down to carefully pull your pants up, even going so far as to refasten the button, "There."

"Thank you," You whimpered gratefully, roughly wiping at your messy eyes and face.

"Here," Herman pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to you, "My apologies for the blood."

And then he took his leave, off to get you revenge on David.

Bubba

There are survivors he does and doesn't enjoy hooking. You're one of the ones he doesn't enjoy hooking, and when he goes back to check if you're okay after unleashing an alarming scream, he ends up squealing in disbelief and horror.

Your pants were down thus flashing him with your delicate privates. Ahhhhhhh! He practically wailed, embarrassed, ashamed and utterly perplexed. Why were your pants down? Why? He covered his face, calming only when he heard your frantic cries-

"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry. They pulled my pants down. I'm sorry. I just wanna die..."

At the sound of your confession, Bubba sprinted off and easily caught Meg, forcing her back to the hook and dropping her in front of you. Whilst keeping his eyes averted, he squealed and chirped loudly while gesturing from her to you, making frantic 'pull-up' motions with his hands.

"A-are you serious? You want 'me' to pull up their stupid-"

Bubba squealed, lifting his hammer in warning. Meg flinched and quickly went to roughly yank your pants up, cursing at you under her breath. After she pulled you off the hook, Bubba smashed her upside the head with his hammer and then rushed over to you.

Brisk and gently he patted your shaking shoulders, trying to reassure you and see if you were okay. "Th-thank you," You nodded, and he smiled in relief, hugging you fast and then going to hook the traitor.

Frank

He was circling back whenever he thought he heard footsteps, caught off guard by the sounds of laughter and frantic protests. As he went inside the building, he flinched and covered his eyes at the sight of your exposed crotch.

"Jesus, what the hell?" He snapped aggressively, "Why the fuck are your pants down?"

In the background, Frank heard maniacal laugher and searched around to find Kate and Élodie making lewd gestures above the stairs, obviously mocking you and him both. Those obnoxious mother-mmm...

At the sight of his clenching fists, the two pranksters fled leaving Frank stewing in a pit of anger and embarrassment. You weren't faring much better by the sound of your terrified whimpers and humiliated cries. Dammit...

"Uh... I-um..." Frank rubbed his neck while awkwardly approaching you, his gaze averted, "If you let me, I'll uh... Look, just give me your stupid permission and I'll pull your pants up, alright?"

"Ok," Came your ghostly whisper.

Taking in a deep breath, Frank was grateful that his mask covered his heated face as he shyly stopped in front of you, unable to keep from checking you out as he grabbed your pants and swiftly pulled them up to your hips. "Those sorry bitches are gonna pay..." He swore.

Stepping back, he was overwhelmed by your brutal sniffles and anxious sobs, and couldn't help himself when he said, "Quit crying. I'm gonna get them back, alright?"

And then he turned and rushed away before the urge to comfort you more shined through, or the growing warmth in his own pants... Stupid fucking survivors...

Caleb

He saw it happen from a distance. Nea walked right up to you, tore your pants down and laughed directly in your face as you struggled and cried to cover yourself. What disrespectful nonsense.

As the prankster ran away at his approach, Caleb stopped by your hook and lingered in place, his brows raised as he took in your stance. "Gotta admit... Them vultures put on a helluva damn show," He snickered, "Can't say I ain't impressed."

You keened in embarrassment, looking up at him and then flinching as you fought to keep your crotch covered and face averted. He chuckled at your obvious shyness and slowly walked forward, saying teasingly, "Ya know, we could make a trade off. Ya show me yirs, an' I'll show ya mine."

As you made adorable little noises of horror, shock and bashfullness, Caleb chuckled and lowered his gun, "I'm jus' messin' with ya, sugar. Now, ya want me to do the honors here?"

Taking in your fast nods, Caleb took his time bending down, whistling loudly as he grabbed your pants and slowly pulled them back up. You were hiding behind your hands, looking absolutely adorable.

"Gotta say, sugar," He mumbled beside your ear, "I wouldn't mind seein' another show like this again."

As you whined in shy embarrassment, Caleb chuckled fondly and took off.

Herman Carter taking care of a reader on their period.

Early this morning whenever he woke up, Herman took extra caution in getting out of bed for he could recall how exhausted and sore you had been all evening yesterday. Last night you had had trouble sleeping and complained of stomach pain when he asked. Considering what time of the month it was, it was rather obvious what was happening. He had gotten out of bed quietly so not to disturb you. Later he planned to wake you after you had gotten enough rest so that he could shower you with love and care.

For the majority of the morning Herman prioritized himself with making coffee, calling to check and see how his "business" was running while he was out for the weekend, and reading the newspaper. A mere hour and a half had passed whenever he suddenly heard the guttural sound of the pipes groaning in the walls indicating running water. What? Herman lowered his mug and gazed in the direction of the hallway where the bathroom was. Were you awake?

Dismissing his newspaper, Herman stood up, took another drink of his beverage and made way down the hall. On his way to the bathroom, he peeked inside your shared bedroom and saw an empty bed void of sheets and one of the blankets. Oh no. You must have started while you were asleep. Herman sighed in slight distress for he knew how sensitive you were. Waking up like this probably put you in a terrible mood.

But that didn't mean that he was going to run away and avoid you. No. You needed him, and he loved you so much, there was no good reason to let something simple like this bring either of you down.

Heading to the restroom, Herman stopped and gently knocked on the door, "(y/n) my love, is everything alright?"

On the other side of the door, he could hear your broken gasp and the shuffling of your feet over the trickle of running water. "Y-yeah, I-I'm alright," You whined.

But Herman knew better. "May I come in?" He asked, his lips roughly pressing together as he suppressed the urge to march in there himself and embrace you.

"N-not right now, please," You whimpered, and it nearly drove Herman insane because he knew that you were anxious and humiliated and you were most likely crying.

"I know what happened," He stated, leaning against the door with his hand resting on the knob, "And I hope you know that I understand. You needn't feel ashamed."

"But I..." You cried.

That settles it. Herman opened the door and walked inside, clouded by the steam from the shower as he studied your hunched form standing in front of the counter, your face buried in your hands. Besides your stained underwear, you were completely naked, your body trembling and jerking every few seconds.

"Oh (y/n)," He mumbled and moved forwards to place a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you into unraveling enough to face him, "Everything is going to be alright."

"No it's not," You protested with a choked, messy cry, your hands jerking away from your face thus showing your broken, agitated expression, "I'm disgusting. I ruin e-everything. Why do you even still have me around?"

"(y/n)..." Herman bit his tongue and tilted his head back, the flood of anger that had invaded him from your denials and false assumptions dissipating by his strong understanding. You were on your period. This kind of attitude was to be expected.

Breathing out calmly, Herman stepped forward, placed his hand on your other shoulder and carefully turned you towards him. "I have you around because I love you," He spoke firm and genuinely, "There's nothing that you have ruined. We can wash the clothes. My, you act as if a little blood is treason."

"It is," You mumbled, rubbing your nose and averting your gaze.

Herman chuckled and pulled you into his arms, "Even committing treason, you're still the most beautiful gift I could ever ask for."

You whined into his chest while eagerly soaking up his praise, warmth and reassurance. Herman was always putting up with your depressed mood swings and insecurities, constantly showering you with all his divine love and support. He was the best person you could ever have. "I love you," You mumbled into his chest, nuzzling the firmly textured fabric of his suit.

"And here I was beginning to believe that you didn't want to be around me," Herman recollected with an innocent hum.

You frowned and looked up at him with an irritated glare, not really appreciating the fact that he ruined the mood by using your own words against you.

Herman chuckled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, "I love you too, my dear. Now, take your shower. I will clean the clothes."

"Are you sure?" You whispered whenever he kissed your lips, his arms moving up and down your bare sides, fingers slipping into the band of your stained underwear.

Separating from your addictive lips, Herman smiled his charming smile and nodded, "Of course."

After a few more shared kisses and caresses, Herman took your night time clothes and left you to shower and do your morning routine. He set the clothes to washing, covered the bed with a fresh sheet and got it set up for your liking. While you were still in the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom and proceeded to ready himself for his surprise for you.

Taking off his shoes, belt and vest, he untucked his shirt and loosened some of the top buttons, checking to make sure his face was well shaved and his teeth shining perfectly. A man's gotta look good for his partner, you know, especially when they were on their period.

He waited on the edge of the bed for you, grinning in fondness when you practically drug your feet across the ground while walking into the bedroom, your head lowered and a towel loosely wrapped around you. You looked miserable and distressed, but he planned to change that. "Feeling better?"

You hummed and tilted your head upwards, gasping when you saw Herman sitting on the freshly made bed, his vest gone and shirt unbuttoned. "Oh-um..." Blushing, you then looked over and saw the heating pad laying prepped and plugged in on your side of the bed. So he wanted to do 'that'? "Herman, y-you didn't have to do all this, I... I'm sorry about earlier, I just... I..."

"Don't apologize," Herman stood from the bed and walked towards you, his hands encompassing your small figure and pulling it close, "I love doing this for you."

"But... It's your weekend, and I..."

"Have just made it all the more enjoyable? Yes, I agree," Herman smirked and leaned down to kiss you, slowly coaxing the edge of the towel from your hands so that he could pull it away and let it drop uselessly to the ground. "Mmm, you're so beautiful."

Moaning into the deep kiss, you push into him with your half naked body and shudder whenever he kneaded and massaged at the bits of flesh he had expertly learned cramped the most. It felt so good.

It took effort but Herman eventually stopped kissing you enough he was able to guide you to the bed where he had you lay down on your stomach after taking a few drinks of your favorite beverage. Then with your aching front laying pressed against the heating pad, he carefully crawled on top of you from behind and sat down against your lower thighs, his brown eyes staring lovingly at your flushed, gorgeous skin.

"Beautiful," He bent down and kissed your upper back, unable to resist ravishing your body as he put one hand over the other and pressed down against your lower back where the pain was at it's worst peak. You moaned and whimpered beneath him, looking so relaxed and at peace as he began massaging your throbbing, aching flesh.

"Feels so good," You whimpered, nuzzling into the pillows.

Herman smirked against your back and said in a promising whisper, "And it's going to feel so much better..."

Soon.

I write to:

- Say the things I can never say.

- Hear the things that I know no one will ever tell me.

- Release emotions.

- Feel emotions.

- Escape reality.

- And pretend that it's not my life that I am living but rather the fantasy life I've created with my own mind and my own words.

Fanart of Jason Voorhees from my fic Battle of the Imaginary Minds.

Another commission for Semi_Weird_Shipper.💕 This is a painting of Jason for her fic Battle of the Imaginary Minds. One of my favorite fics that I recommend.🤗 ⭐https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892938/chapters/47117080

Not for Sale Do NOT repost Copyright© 2022 EroismPro18. All rights reserved Original character belongs to their rightful owners.

Personally, I think one of the reasons why Jeffrey is so unsettling to people is because of his eyes. In the game his eyes are pitch black. Heck, it even unsettles me a little. But with concepts like this lovely fanart right here, I think it's easy to create small changes to make him seem more humane. I mean, look at his eyes! They're so pretty! And he's so handsome! I hope more people open up to him.

I'd like to talk about Mr. grumpy sunglasses man and what my plans are with writing him in the future.

So I've done research and Wesker seems like a pretty cool bad guy. He's arrogant, precise, observant and smart, and easily adapts to complicated situations. Just think about what he'd be like as a loving husband? Kind of dreamy, right? But we'll get to the lovey details in a minute.

I read as much fanfiction as I could with Wesker and I wasn't able to find much besides smut- including quite a bit of rape- which is fine, you know, I respect people's decisions to write however they desire. It's just not what I'm looking for. We all know that I'm the world's slowest burner when it comes to building relationships in my stories. My sap is thick, people. And Wesker could be a wonderful bad guy to write as an emotional supporter.

I think Wesker is the type of person to set high standards and expectations. He probably sees most people as mere ants beneath his feet. It would take something particularly special to gain his interest. Lucky for him, all of my reader inserts have been special. In the Dead By Daylight world, his variety of potential interests' is significantly lessened, and he won't have as much freedom to reign. He will have to calm down is attitude and start getting along with people for his own sake. No killing people at random, Mr. Sunglasses.

Because of his high standards and arrogance, I think Wesker would most likely be interested in a real challenge. Say a reader who is uniquely skilled during trials, quiet, and tries to stay away from him. This reader is unlike the other survivors and has great work ethic, respect, and intelligence. In a way he feels rivaled. He might even try to tease and/or flirt with the reader, but it won't have any effect that he knows of.

Due to past trauma, this reader is greatly introverted and doesn't set their bar too high. They prefer to stay away from people and not get involved with drama. Perhaps they're a bit awkward due to communication issues? Imagining Wesker being interested in them sure was one heck of a fantasy. But why did he keep showing so much interest in them? Talking to the other survivors for advice will only get them humiliated and turned down. Back into hiding they go!

Wesker will begin to grow impatient and frustrated with the reader's lack of reactions, but he's not giving up. There was something special about them, something unique and juicy and he wanted to find out what. Along the way, breaking their shell, he'll begin to fall in love. And that love will guide him into providing the reader with the care they've always deserved. Let's rehearse their vows!

And that's my interpretation on how Mr. Grumpy sunglasses works in an emotional support relationship. I really hope to write more with him in the future. We'll see how everything works out.