Slasher Imagines/Scenarios (mostly NSFW... wink)

Scenario: You Get Sick

[Little author's note here: scenarios will be set up like short stories, roughly 700 words per character]

Michael Myers:
You woke up late in the afternoon which is unlike you. Michael was already awake and got himself dressed and had gotten into candy since you weren't awake to attempt to feed him. Not that he would have eaten anything less sugary, anyway.
Your throat throbbed and itched when you swallowed and your eyes were puffy, you whined realizing you were sick. Michael was standing over you, staring at you with a slightly tilted head.
"Michael-" you croaked at him. He tilted his head the other way when he heard your rough voice. "I'm not feeling well today..."
He stared at you, unresponsive. He heard you and understood you but didn't have anything to say about it, so you rolled over and went back to sleep.
You didn't get to rest much longer as a large hand grabbed your shoulder and shook you awake. You opened your eyes and looked over to see Michael. Had it been anyone else you'd rip their heads off for waking you so rudely, but you know the poor guy's trying his best.
"What do you need? Are you hungry?" You started mumbling as you rubbed your eyes and tried to sit up. He had a pair of fuzzy wool socks in his hand and he knelt down when you sat up in your bed. "Michael?"
Without looking back up at you, he unfolded the socks and started to slip them onto your feet. Before you could ask why he was putting on socks, he scooped you up beneath your legs and carried you bridal style in one arm while he grabbed a soft blanket from your bed and tucked it around you.
He started walking out the bedroom and towards the kitchen. He set you on the counter and started opening up cabinets aggressively, looking for something. "Michael, what are you looking for? You're going to break my cabinets!"
When he found it, he came back to you with what he'd been looking for: the jar of honey. He grabbed a spoon and stuck it in, pulling out a big golden glob. Whenever Michael didn't feel good, you would feed him honey since he refuses to take anything else. He spooned the honey into your mouth and and stared at you while you swallowed it.
It coated your throat and made you feel instant relief as he set the jar down. He picked you back up and took you to the couch, sitting you down on the cushion as he sat beside you quietly.
You know he doesn't like physical affection, but you just wanted a little bit... You crawled up onto his lap and he sat still, letting you stay. You wondered how much you could get out of him, so you gently pushed him back. He obliged and lay on his back, allowing you to lay on his chest. Had you not been sick he'd never let you do such a thing.
You cuddled him quietly and continued pushing your luck, slowly reaching your hands up to his mask. He rarely ever lets you see his face, you wondered if he would let you today. You slowly slid your fingers beneath the latex and started pulling, he flinched a little, but didn't stop you.
You pulled it off to see a handsome, slender face with no expression. His brown eyes stared at you as you admired the delicate, cold face. You figured he would flinch away from you if you leaned in and kissed his cheek, not wanting to get sick. But instead, he sat completely still and allowed you to plant your soft little lips on his skin.
You smiled wide, content with how kind he was being today. His refrain from pushing you away was a sign of trust as you closed your eyes and kept nuzzling his neck and jaw. Several minutes of him being completely still passed before you heard a small snore. Michael had fallen asleep and it was the most adorable thing the monster was capable of. You curled up tightly into him and fell asleep with him, knowing he was going to be spending a long, sick week with you.

Bubba Sawyer:
You lay on a dirty bloody table miserably. Screams of agony and terror filled the air around the house as you lay there shaking and crying, you had only been here a couple days and you were terrified, the Sawyers are fucking insane. Footsteps pounded toward the door and you froze as it started to open.
A massive young man walked into the room, he was covered in blood and dirt and wore the most disgusting thing you'd ever seen on his face. The sight and smell made you violently ill and you turned away from him desperately as he walked towards you.
It was Bubba, the youngest of the brothers but the biggest of the family. You had only seen him twice and he'd been dressed in a black suit both times, but now he was covered in mixed bloods and grime. He walked towards you can grabbed your arm and yanked you up from the table, untying you and sitting you up. He was mumbling incoherently as he guided you off the table but the scents and heat and screaming was too much.
Once you landed on your feet, you hunched over and gagged. He tilted his head as you hurled and then flinched as vomit spewed out of you. He let out a confused shriek as he tightened his grip on your arm.
Drayton burst through the door and threw his hands up. "What the hell is going on in here, Bubba? Didn't I tell you to get him cleaned up half an hour ago?" He looked at the vomit and then back at you and squinted his eyes. "Wait a second... that isn't the one I wanted! Bubba you dumb animal! You got the wrong one!!" He screeched at the massive boy as he tugged on his head.
He grabbed your arm and held you up to Bubba's line of sight, shaking you. "Do you see any meat on these bones?!" Bubba shook his head and pressed his fingertips together. Drayton dropped you onto the floor and started heading towards the door. "GET RID OF HER."
Bubba nodded as Drayton left and slammed the door, then grabbed you by your arm again. He started pulling on you and you fought him, holding your stomach. He glanced down at you and tilted his head when he saw you writhing uncomfortably.
He loosened his grip as he knelt down and pointed to your stomach and whined. "I... don't understand..."
He pointed to the mess on the floor and you blushed slightly. "I... have a stomachache... I'm sorry-" He suddenly lifted you up by your hips gently, like you would break under his hands if he squeezed you even the slightest bit.
He carried you carefully out of the room and looked around cautiously before quickly tiptoeing through the hallways. He was up to something and you were somewhat intrigued, so you held your tongue. He quickly carried you through the house and out the door, off the porch and into the yard. He kept his pace as he practically ran to the small shed where you were first captured.
Once inside, he set you down on the counter gently. You looked up at the mask and you felt another wave churn inside you. "Please take the mask off," you pleaded softly. He nodded and quickly undid the mask, pulling it off of his face.
He set the mask down and looked back at you, smiling at you gently. You were still terrified but returned the smile cautiously. He lifted you up slightly and set you back down on the counter hard, grumbling incoherently. "Wait here?" He nodded and turned to run back to the house.
He came back a few minutes later with an armful of things and your eyes widened. "Bubba...?" He set down the pile of things and pulled out an old tattered teddy bear, handing it to you. You took it gently and examined it. "Is this yours?" He nodded happily as he pulled out a small vintage round pillow and gave it to you. He nuzzled you excitedly as he pulled out a bracelet from his pocket with tiny bells soldered to it and jangled it like a child. You flinched at the nuzzles and held your breath, you were reluctant to return the odd affection the beast was showing you.
He slid the big bracelet over your tiny wrist and continued adorning you with little trinkets he'd gathered up in the pile. You smiled at all of them to keep him happy, and then he ran out of the shed again. He came back with a little bread roll and gave it to you in little torn up pieces. You accepted the food hungrily which pleased him. You weren't sure why he was being so kind but you were grateful.
After you finished the bread, he lifted you up again and sat down on the floor of the shed with you in his lap. He started to lift up your dress and you whined and started wriggling in between his legs. "Bubba, no...!"
He stopped just above your stomach and rested his hand on your skin gently. He rubbed your stomach slowly and nuzzled your head and you stopped moving. It was actually kind of nice and you realized he was just trying to help.
"Thankyou Bubba... I feel better now." You nestled your head on his stomach and closed your eyes. His family was horrible, but you knew he wouldn't let them hurt you. If you were to get out of this place, you were taking him with you.

Bo Sinclair:
You've felt really weird all day and finally caved in as you knelt over a toilet letting your lunch hurl out of you. You heard your front door open and you perked your head up as heavy footsteps entered your small house. A familiar voice called out and calmed you.
"Y/N, you in here?" You couldn't answer as you kept barfing in the toilet. He heard the noise and set a bag down on the counter as he walked over to the bathroom. "Shit, babe..."
You wiped your mouth as you sat up and looked at Bo, he still had his trucker hat on and he looked concerned. You had tears in your eyes and snot dripping at the tip of your nose. "Cmere, hon..."
He grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped your little nose for you and then used the sleeve of his button up to wipe away your tears while you whimpered. "Shhh... it's okay baby girl, I got you."
He picked you up gently and held you as you wrapped your legs around his body. He pat your back and held you in his arms gently as he carried you out the bathroom and to the kitchen. He set you on the counter next to the sink and turned it on, letting it warm up as he grabbed a rag and doused it in the water. He wiped your face and neck then tossed the towel aside.
"Wait here, baby girl." He rubbed your knee before turning and heading out of the kitchen to your bedroom, coming back with a clean nightgown. He helped you down from the counter before pulling your dress up over your head and tossing it on the counter. He pulled the clean night gown over you carefully not to stretch the material or be too rough with you.
He held your hand tight as he started guiding you to your bed, lifting the covers for you to climb in. He tucked you in gently and kissed the top of your head. "I'll come back when you're feeling better, alright?"
"You're leaving...?" You couldn't help but whine a little as he started heading towards the door.
"I don't wanna get sick." He shrugged awkwardly and looked down at his boots. You rolled over and curled up sadly, not wanting to be alone. "Don't you pout... Dammit-" He kicked off his boots and tossed his hat onto the dresser as he walked back towards the bed. He sighed as he sat on the edge and pet you gently over the blanket.
"I'll stay a little longer," he said as he looked at the floor, still rubbing your arm. You smiled as you closed your eyes and fell asleep quickly.
You weren't asleep for long before you woke up to see him passed out, sprawled across your feet at the edge of bed. You smiled as he snored loudly, it wasn't often he spent the night so you were glad he was staying now of all days.