Slasher Preferences and One-Shots

React to their s/o referring yo them calling them yheir husband

Michael:

Okay, so maybe you hadn't outright gotten the pleasure to exactly introduce him as such- but you said it.

He happened to have been resting, just about to slip into a peaceful nap just as a knock at the front door roused you. To this he'd only sigh, rolling his eyes with a visible frown on his due to his lack of a mask. Did you really have to answer it? He's sure they'll just go away if you wait long enough. He wasn't really in the mood to go chase them off or kill them either...

Of course, you answered the door after blowing a teasing kiss his way.

Being in his nature, Michael carefully listened to what the person at the door had to say. It was apparently just some sort of door to door salesman. Nonetheless, he still listened.

However that's when out of the blue, likely in response to the man asking to come inside the house, he heard you.

"I'm sorry, sir. My husband is asleep at this time, perhaps you can come again at a later date?"

To this the man gave you an understanding smile, tilting his hat before descending the front porch's stairs and leaving.

What really got him was when you just so nonchalantly reassumed your previous position. Wedging yourself between him and the blankets on the couch, tucking your head underneath his chin while you wriggled around in attempt to get comfortable.

Husband? What...?

He wouldn't address it anytime soon, but the thought would linger in his mind. He knew you were his and he liked that, but to have you so boldly proclaim it..it gave him a great sense of satisfaction.

Soon he'd find himself with a slight, very odd feeling, grin on his face. He'd then wrap his long arms securely around you and quite happily press you against his chest.

Sure. He's your "husband".

Thomas:

Victims typically were mean to Thomas. Everyone in the house knew it, shit, people that weren't going to become dinner even were assholes to him and generally afraid.

That still didn't make it any easier to see your loved one berated so cruelly...even if in this case it was entirely justifiable.

Some woman, the last of her group, was bound to the dinner chair between the where Luda Mae and Monty usually sat. She was a mess, bloody and bruised like most of the meat was if they even got to this point. Much like the poor bastards that got to go to dinner, she was howling and screaming obscenities to every member of the family. She's call the lot of you "inbred", "sick" and all kinds of other things.

It didn't really bother you...at least not until your lover, in all his bloody visage, stalked up to the dinner table.

Upon his initial entrance into the room, the woman began to scream again- her entire body shaking from the force of her fear. That much you could understand...he was the one that picked off her friends in a plethora of horrible means.

"Wh-what..No! Not you, you fucking..you fucking animal!" She squealed, desperately trying to break away from her shackles- even beginning to cry as Thomas sat down beside you.

Once she calmed down the slightest bit and food was served, her adrenaline must've fueled what she said next.

"You'd nothing more th- more than a ugly, horribly retarded beast.." She muttered under her breath, yet the whole table clearly heard what she said and knew exactly who she was directing it towards.

That was a common theme. People called your sweet Thomas things like that all too often.

This time was just too much.

With a cold sneer, you pushed your plate forward the slightest bit. Then you'd snap your head towards the woman and bare your teeth, much like the animal she accused your lover of being, before ordering her to repeat what she said.

Of course after that, she practically screamed the hateful words at Thomas- tears striking down her reddened, swollen face.

Growling, you viciously leaned your way over the table and slapped her hard enough to jerk her head to the side and make her cry.

"You shouldn't ever talk about someone that way!" Of course you realized how messed up that sounded coming from someone that was eating her friends. "Especially not my husband! He's the sweetest man you'd ever meet, but you wouldn't know that. Your kind are always too quick to judge, only looking at what's on that outside.."

After that, the woman as well as the rest of the table went silent. Luda would actually give you a soft smile as you slowly sat back down into your chair, grabbing Thomas's big hand to give a reassuring squeeze.

Once dinner was finished and the woman was properly dealt with, Thomas would be sure to approach you with kindly soft eyes and a crooked smile on his face. Those words you said..they were all he could think of.

That night would likely be spent with you holding him, allowing him to rest his head on your chest as you lovingly stroke his hair and tell him how much you loved him.

Ever since that night, the rest of the family address you now and forever on as "Mrs/Mr. Hewitt" or "Tommy's little wifey/hubby"