Tumgik
#Bo Sinclair x Reader Drabble
slashingdisneypasta · 3 months
Text
Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader || Smexcerpt
Tumblr media
Plot: You're nothing but sweet to Bo, and he's so damn mean! When you offer to wash him, its no different.
... "Come on, Bo. You're filthy." ... "Shower's nice and warm, Bo, come on. Don't be grumpy, please?" ... "Just relax, Bo,.. "
Warnings: Smut. Shower sex and Degradation. Age difference relationship (Mean older man (36 y/o) / Soft younger AFAB person (Early 20's)). A tiny little bit of daddy kink, and a creampie. Wrap it before you tap it folks, don't be like Bo. (Unedited)
When Bo finally gave in and joined you in the shower, chucking his hat off and to the corner of the bathroom last and giving a simultaneous frustrated sigh as he slides into the small little cubicle with you, you give a pleased grin. So he's not in that terrible a mood, then. If he was, he never would've listened to you.
"Y'better start washin' the fucken day off me, honey, or I'm kickin your ass outta here."
Your jaw drops, the sponge in your hand two inches away from Bo's chest. "Wh- I started this shower!! I- I was here first!" You sound immature, you know it, but its totally warranted! Pouting, you squeeze the sponge so all the soapy water drenches your hand. He could be so charismatic, but never for you!...
"Yeah, and I'm gonna end it if you don't get to work." There's a ghost of a smirk on his handsome face, now, watching you get all sulky in front of him- and all covered in soap suds and running water, too. It was definitely cheering him up after the day he had. "What? You gonna get all huffy now, darlin'? Y'asked for me to come in here."
"Why are you always so mean to me... I'm always nice to you!"
"Awww, was I mean?... " The smirk is real, now, as Bo backs you up against the tile wall. When the cold hits your skin you jolt and gasp; leaning in towards Bo's warmth, instead.
Still, you cross your arms and look away from him. "Yes. And you're always so nice to visitors, before you kill them I mean, and I- "
Here he chuckles, shaking his head. "You're so fucken dumb, doll, jesus christ."
"Hey!- "
When Bo's lips crash into yours, wet and tasting of water, you let out a quick gasp- but calm down immediately at the taste of his tongue in your mouth. Dropping the sponge in your fist, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck; pressing your naked bodies together. This time when he pushes you against the wall, you're so warm and content against him, connected to him, that you don't even wince.
Immediately your pussy is throbbing, soaking wet and aching to be filled up with his cock. That always happens when Bo takes control of you like this- you hate it, you think it betrays you, but what can you do?? Its so hot. Moaning, you turn your nose to the other side of Bo's, adjusting the kiss and letting him deepen it by sucking on your tongue. The hot water from the shower beats down his back, drips off the tips of your fingers, and slides down your thighs.
His hands find your thighs and wrap them around his waist, grinding his half-hard cock against your lovely, slick, plush pussy with a growl. He separates from your poor swollen lips and flashes you a devastating smirk. "You ready for me, little baby?"
Slow on the uptake, head full of steam and Bo, you give another little pout at his words. "I'm not a baby- "
"Yeah you are." With his cock fully hard now, thick and standing tall against his belly, he slips in just half; watching you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. "Hey hey hey, hold on there- " He gets in close to your face, tut tut tut-ing, the feel of his hot breath a little extra in the hot steamy shower. "Don't do that, princess~ Dontcha think Daddy wants to hear every little thing he's doin' to you?" You just look mortified back at him, your hand still over your mouth. Daddy?!? "It'd cheer me up, for sure."
... oh, you think, eyes widening. Well- if it would make Bo happy, then- "O- okay... "
Slowly you take your hand away from your lips, watching Bo's eyes flicker down to your mouth and the little lecherous smirk spread across his. "There you go... "
Then he thrusts all the way into you, filling you up so entirely and riding against your clit your eyes slip up into the back of your head; your skull falling back and thudding gently against the tile wall behind you. "Booo... "
"Heheh, thats right, sweetheart, fuck you're so fucken tight- "
Bo's words race right through you as he pounds your little cunt with his admittedly impressive dick, stroking the tight ball inside you developing into a perfect delicious orgasm. You hold on the best you can though, you try so hard to stay together, you don't wanna cum too fast!, you want this to last-
Your pussy squeezes Bo like a vice as he pummels your clit, the hot shower water coating you both adding a layer of pleasure thats so new and so good. "Bo Bo Bo- "
"I know, sweet thing, I kn- fuck!- " When you squeeze around him hearing him call you 'sweet thing', he cant stand it. He squeezes your hips so tight he'll definitely leave fingertip-shaped bruises behind and presses his full cock deep into you so his pelvis pins yours against the wall.
A hot, fulfilled feeling explodes in your cunt and you let out a guttural moan, rolling your hips against him, riding out both your orgasms.
~
" ... huh, well I guess y'are useful for somethin', huh, baby doll?" Bo tells you a few minutes later, still holding your tired, sleepy form up against the shower wall; keeping you close as long as possible while you're all sweet and tired like this. His foreheads leaning against yours and his hand's on the side of your head, stroking your face lovingly with his thumb.
Your eyes are closed, half-drifting off. " ... sh- shut up... fuck you... asshole... "
Bo gives a grin. "Fuck you too, sweetheart."
264 notes · View notes
semiweirdshipper · 1 year
Text
Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).
Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.
I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.
...
Freddy
He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."
Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.
"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.
You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."
Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."
Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.
"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.
"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."
"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"
"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"
"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.
"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."
Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.
Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.
"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.
Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"
"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."
Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."
Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester
"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.
Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"
Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.
Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"
"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."
"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"
Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.
Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"
Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.
Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."
He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?
Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"
You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."
"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.
Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.
As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"
"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."
Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."
Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.
Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.
Michael + Aunt Laurie
You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.
He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.
You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?
"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.
Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."
Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.
Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.
You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."
Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.
Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.
Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.
You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.
Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.
Hannibal
He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.
Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.
As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"
"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.
"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."
Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."
"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."
Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.
"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.
You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.
Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.
"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.
You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."
"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"
Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."
"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.
Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."
...
All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.
2K notes · View notes
calmcoldevening · 1 year
Text
Why did they want to keep you with them? (slashers x reader)
TW! Mention of rape and abuse
Tumblr media
Michael Myers
• Michael came to your house to kill you.
• He was prevented by one scene: you were crying and screaming, trying to escape from the grip of your "boyfriend", who forcibly undressed you. Disgusting attempted rape.
• Michael lay low, watching you for a while, watching your pleas and futile attempts to escape. Your gaze reflected the pain of betrayal. This was different from what Myers saw in the eyes of his victims during the murders.
• You reminded him of his mother. Michael grew up around women, and he saw how his mother often cried at night after a particularly hard shift at "work". And although he didn't feel anything towards you at that moment, he understood that it was wrong.
• In place of you and this guy, Michael saw Deborah and Ronnie. And he couldn't stand this sofa imbecile. Such a vile, cruel and disgusting person is not worthy of life, right?
• When he was done with the guy, Myers came up to you and squatted down. You, clearly still on the verge of hysteria and loss of consciousness, clung to his shoulders, burying your face in a blue jumpsuit. Michael didn't know how to react, he didn't feel anything, but something inside was telling him to comfort.
• The voices behaved strangely. At any other time they would have said kill, but not now. And only the mother's voice stood out among this gray series of sounds: "Calm her, Michael."
Tumblr media
Bubba Sawyer
• That day you were traveling with Sally, her brother and friends. You've been pretty distant. You were always stressed out by such noisy companies, but Pam begged you, as one of her best friends, to go with them.
• When a strange hitchhiker jumps into your van, you are attracted to his behavior. Why is he so jumpy? Sick in the head? Perhaps. Your fears are confirmed when he snatches a knife from Franklin and cuts open his hand. You look at his distraught face and run up to him, thinking how to stop the blood faster. After walking in for a while, you grab your backpack and take out bandages and some ointments that you bought earlier at the nearest pharmacy. As carefully as possible, you rub his palm and wrap a clean bandage on top. Nubbins, as you will find out later, looks at you with shock and incomprehension.
• When you become one of the Sawyers' victims, it becomes a choice who they want to put at the table as a guest during a dinner party. The choice falls on you and Sally.
• Nubbins immediately recognizes you and begins to actively tell his brothers something. Did you help Nubbins? Bubba is impressed. You didn't offend his brother, but on the contrary, you showed sympathy!
• Bubba is heading towards you (you and Sally are sitting on the infamous bone sofa). He touches your cheek with his thick finger, and you smile nervously. You're ready to cry from fear right now; your lips are trembling, but no tears are flowing. Bubba repeats his action, this time stroking your chin. He smacks his lips strangely from time to time; you can see his crooked teeth.
• To be honest, Nubbins and Drayton never understood why their brother left you, but he continued to be adamant, carefully taking you to his room. He untied your limbs only in the late afternoon, when he was sure he could keep an eye on you.
Tumblr media
Vincent Sinclair
• You came to Ambrose and decided to go to the store for a snack. Bo immediately called out to you and offered to go to his house. The boy is cute, smiling — why not?
• When you entered the Sinclair house, you immediately realized that the guy, or guys, it seems he had brothers, had not had proper care and care for a long time: all the rooms were dusty, and the kitchen was littered with dirty dishes and empty boxes of instant food.
• Without thinking twice, you decided to first clear the space a little, and then concoct something in a hurry. In the end, Bo gave it the go-ahead.
• While you are washing the dishes, a strong blow is heard upstairs, and then Bo's angry screams. You hurriedly wipe your hands and almost run to the second floor. Slowly approaching the right room, you hear Bo's furious voice. "Fuck, couldn't you've been more careful, huh? Now she's definitely gonna run away, damn it. And all because of you, bastard!". Then there was a thud.
• You run into the room and see Bo towering over a long-haired guy. He fell on his ass and pressed his hands to his face. You rush to him and help him up. "Are you okay? What was that? Does anything hurt?" you shower the man with questions and only now notice that his face is wearing a mask.
• "Get away from him. And you, freak, move it. You don't want to get another slap in the face, do you?". You frown and stand in front of the guy, blocking him from Bo. You let the long-haired one lean on your shoulder. "Don't yell at him. Can't you see that he's sick?".
• The only thing Vincent can think about at this moment is how you protect him, not afraid to raise your voice to Bo, and what kind of affectionate and warm hands you have. You gently hold him by his broad back, and even through the mask he feels a pleasant scent of perfume. Maybe I shouldn't kill you?
Tumblr media
Bo Sinclair
• You arrived in Ambrose with your friends. Although, they could hardly be called that. They were extremely toxic and called you names all the time.
• Your car needed an inspection: while driving, something was knocking violently under the hood, so when one of the guys talked to Lester, you drove into town.
• This place seemed nice enough to you, even though it looked a little creepy and abandoned.
• When Bo was talking to a guy from your company who was driving a car, he saw a young man yelling at you and sometimes swinging. Bo frowned, but did not show his mood change to others. "Why doesn't the girl go to our local "House of Wax"? This place will really make you want to stay" Bo joked, pointing towards a hill near the city. You went in the indicated direction with a clear desire to distract yourself from these vile people, leaving your pseudo-friends in the care of Bo.
• A little later you will discover that all your companions have mysteriously "left", leaving you in this city all alone to fend for yourself.
• Bo will calm you down and try in every possible way to show that you can trust him (what's there, you cried into his vest, and he gently stroked you on the back). The man was grinning.
• In fact, he just saw himself in you at that moment. He remembered how his parents treated him brutally, chained him to a chair with stones and constantly set an example for his younger brother. Something about you, so shrinking and scared, seemed to him exciting and interesting. Perhaps he found in your eyes the same feelings that he experienced in his life, there was something familiar about you, even native, that made him want to protect you and fence you off from these terrible people.
Tumblr media
Well i love them too much hah. I wrote this with my ex-girlfriend a long time ago, so I was not sure if it was worth posting. But what's done is done. These boys are too cute for me not to write this one. So have a good day :)
5K notes · View notes
s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year
Text
❝ beautiful (darling) ❞
slashers dating drabble | transmasc!reader | comfort/fluff | graphic description of violence | mentions/implied transphobia (minor) | minor mention of SH in Amanda Y.'s section
Tumblr media
Amanda Young | Brahms Heelshire | Corey Cunningham | OG!Michael Myers | RZ!Michael Myers | poly!Ghostface (Stu Macher, Billy Loomis) | Sinclair brothers
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Amanda Young (Saw) —
She would do anything to ensure that you are happy and healthy.
Even if it means she has to stare you down with her arms crossed and her brow arched as you meekly confess that you'd forgotten to fulfil your daily needs.
Your girlfriend knows how damaging it is to be looked at with disgust by close-minded individuals - as an ex-addict and ex-convict she knows how dark your mind can become when the world seemingly turns its back on you. She may not understand the struggle you face as a trans person but she is SO proud of you for having made it this far.
If you deny these words of admiration, she will cup your face and repeat them.
Resist more and she will whisper praises on your skin as she trails kisses anywhere she can. She loves you, she will not give you room to degrade the person she loves.
Oh! Amanda adores wearing matching pieces with you. She's not interested in full-on "couple outfits" (if you beg, maybe she'll relent...maybe) but matching earrings, necklaces, rings? She loves it. It soothes her possessive side.
Speaking of her possessiveness, she's not a jealous person...at least that is what she tells herself.
Amanda won't ever turn her anger on you when someone shows interest in you, she knows it isn't your fault that someone doesn't understand what "taken" means.
However, this does little to stop her from placing her chin on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck as she regards the "threat" with an unimpressed look.
"Whose this, baby?" "Oh, this is-" she gasps and you look as she points out something in the distance. "Look at that! Come on, looks fun!"
Please reassure her though, she acts tough but she is just a person underneath all that bloodshed.
Your girlfriend loves to embrace you, Little Spoon or Big Spoon matters not.
All-in-all, she is unapologetically touching you any chance she gets.
If someone is an asshole to you, you frankly start worrying about what dirt Amanda is going to find out about them and use against them in their game. You don't need to worry about her sketching new torture devices, disappearing in the middle of the night, or that suspicious duffel bag she comes back with that makes a loud CLANK! sound when she places it on the floor. No, really, don't worry.
When you see the asshole's face and name appear on the news because of their gruesome death, you simply continue to channel surf while Amanda chews on her lower lip, tucked under your arm and looking so smug.
If your cologne starts running out faster you look to your girlfriend - she quite literally smells like the evidence but she will deny, deny, deny.
Self-defense lessons. No questions asked, no rebuttal or refute. She will be more at peace knowing you can protect yourself.
If you decide to help her by "participating" in a game with other people, her eyes will be glued to the camera feed. She is pacing as thousands of "what if's" run through her mind. They dissipate as you turn your head to a hidden camera and smile at her before you continue your performance of distress and anxiety. She falls deeper in love with you (expect the most passionate kiss of your life - no, she won't care if you're covered in blood).
[CHEST BINDING] Amanda reminds you to take a break, and stretch your back and even offers to massage you. She will splurge on a better-quality binder when yours starts looking worse for wear.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, ADDICTION implied] She won't be present while you administer the shot, she will prepare band-aids, praises and kisses once you're done.
[SELF-HARM mentioned] If you struggle with self-harm, she won't start asking "how's" or "why's". Unlike her mentor, she knows how tough this can be, she won't punish or mock you for it. She will help you through it, every step of the way.
Tumblr media
Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) —
This boy is more perceptive than most give him credit for.
"(Y/N), feeling more darling today?" "...Yeah, wait, how'd you-"
He categorizes sliding around the gender spectrum as "pretty" (fem), "darling" (gn), and "handsome" (masc). You usually don't even have to tell him about how you're presenting/feeling today, he gets it right.
Your boyfriend is a brat but he isn't a useless brat. Contrary to popular belief, he can cook (snacks) and take care of himself just fine. He just leans on you more because...he's a brat.
This is hyper-specific, but Brahms knows how frustrating it feels to look into a mirror and see someone that isn't...you.
So he makes you a mask. It's how he copes and he figured it could help you too. If you like them he'd be more than happy to make you more.
Arts and craft master! Did you see his room? He probably kept himself busy with all sorts of hobbies, so he definitely enjoys handmaking your gifts.
Oh, how he loves to be held by you. He enjoys being enveloped completely, it makes him feel so small and safe.
Loves everything about you. Your voice makes the thoughts in his head quiet to a whisper - the power you have on this man.
So he does not understand why some people are abhorrent when they talk to you.
Yes, the two of you are more or less left alone in the Heelshire Manor/estate. Malcolm occasionally drops by with groceries only to scurry off after some mild-mannered conversation because he doesn't want the ghost of a child to chase him off. But, there's only so much you can do to maintain such a grand building and its surrounding land.
So, you have to call some help once in a while to uphold the maintenance. Most of the time, the local hire are sweet, they enjoy helping you since they're usually served cold drinks and snacks after. The handful of assholes, however, are...assholes.
Brahms seethes as he grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches, you glance at the wall he hides behind as you faintly hear his breathing but just got the interaction over and done with.
Unlike the other slashers in this list, he is at the most disadvantage when it comes to enacting justice but by god, he will try. For you? He'd do anything.
You let out a noise of confusion when Brahms murmurs about you going to the local art supply shop to get him something. "You want me to go to town?" he nods, his curls tickling your neck and shoulder. As you attempt to turn to face him, Brahms lets out a whine - high and pouty. "I've been good!" you sigh, patting his arm that was around your waist. "Alright, Brahmsy, alright".
Unbeknownst to you, Brahms had messaged the transphobic asshole whilst pretending to be you and told them something had happened to whatever it was they worked on while they were here. He'd given you an alibi, people saw you in town after all so he was prepared to have a "talk" with the repairman.
He also does not worry much about you going to the art supply shop as the woman who owns it is a kind old lady whom he sometimes makes you send his crafts - under the guise that you made them, of course.
You returned home with new art supplies in your hand, at ease and humming from the pleasant walk from the gates to the manor.
Brahms stands over a dead body on the back patio, his mask covered in blood splatters as he held an antique ashtray in his hand.
"(Y/N)!" he cheers, walking over the man's barely-there skull before he embraces you.
He'd kill for you but the mess is yours to clean. Your boyfriend isn't perfect.
He'll make you something sweet to drink while you hose down the gore, does that help? Okay, okay, fine, he'll bury the body too.
[CHEST BINDING] He knows when your body has had enough. No, he does not know the appropriate time frame you are supposed to have whilst wearing a binder - he just knows your body so well he knows when it's done for the day. He'll run you a hot bath to help your muscles relax.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, BURN SCARS] His arts and crafts hobbies practically made him have surgeon's hands. So if you need him to, he'll administer the shot and it won't hurt, just a pinch he promises. As someone who had to go through a few medical procedures due to his burns, he stays by your side when you have to go through anything remotely medical. By the way, despite how hard it is to get testosterone when you live in the middle of nowhere, don't worry, the Heelshire funds will last Brahms and you ten lifetimes. Enjoy it, it's all for you.
Tumblr media
Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) —
Corey "Babe, wear my jacket you'll look so handsome" Cunningham.
Oh, how this man dotes over you.
If you open his Notes app, you'll find an entire folder dedicated to you. Inside, your boyfriend has written down every date idea you confessed to wanting (even the TikTok links you'd sent regarding the topic), your favourite and least favourite food (your allergies are bolded and if you're on medication, that is also listed) and other things you weren't even aware he remembered much less keep note off.
It's okay if he doesn't wear a helmet but please wear yours.
Loves, loves, loves going on motorcycle rides with you. Your weight pressed against his, your laughter ringing in his ears, the wind in his hair, your arms wrapped around him, the scenery blurring past - he feels like the two of you are young gods. Eternal and immortal, just like his love for you.
Star-gazing dates! Climbing on rooftops of abandoned buildings to have private moments where you both feel like the only people in the world!
He would have been considered a "Golden Retriever" boyfriend but after his character development, he has turned into a "German Shepherd" boyfriend.
Honestly, he'd love to see anyone try to disrespect you. Their words fizzle out on their tongues when he stands behind you with his eyes so dark they resembled mirrors - just dark pools that only reflect the sorry cunt's expression back at them. They didn't know it just yet but they had just signed their death warrants.
Speaking of his eyes - please remind him to keep eye lubricant on him all the time. He stares at people like an owl, they dry out. Doesn't help that he rides his motorcycle without a helmet. Oh! And pretty please remind him to actually keep track of when he needs to buy new contact lenses, he somehow always disregards his eye health. You're basically the only thing keeping them alive - his optician thanks you.
If you tell him you like the way his jacket looks, how the rings on his fingers give you "gender envy", how good his cologne smells, how his jeans cutting makes him look more masculine - baby, just take it.
Referring to the first point - but yeah, dude, just wear his things if you want, he loves it. If you're not his size, then you best be ready to have him buy and alter things for you.
"You'd look cute wearing my work uniform" You pause from whatever it is you're doing and look at your boyfriend as he works on his motorcycle in your garage, "o...kay...?"
Maybe he just has a thing for you wearing his things...
His bloodlust fluctuates, sometimes he's feeling particularly bloodthirsty and sometimes not so much. What is constant though is the gifts he brings back. Does it count as trophies? Robbery? No idea! But the way your eyes light up when he gives you something makes his heart race.
[CHEST BINDING] This man did his research. He keeps an eye on your breathing when you're wearing a binder, gently reminding you to make sure you did so safely.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He holds you and will even offer to administer it. He talks while he does so - just to keep your mind off the needle and he places a kiss over your band-aid every time.
Tumblr media
Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) —
As predicted, he stares. Sorry, not sorry. That's just how he communicates, through vibes.
In all seriousness though, Michael does "speak" but it's limited to how his eyes narrow, surprisingly sassy eye-rolls, infamous head tilts, sighs, grunts, growls and occasionally...a huff of laughter.
If you attempt to teach him how to sign, he will pick and choose when to use it but your boyfriend keeps himself easy to read for your sake.
Stalking is his love language. Do not attempt to spot him when he doesn't want to be spotted because you won't. He secretly enjoys seeing you pout when you try though, you look so determined.
Your boyfriend won't negotiate on moving so you're going to have to renovate and fix up his childhood home to make it livable- this will be hard as Michael will be hiding in the basement but thankfully, whoever he did kill he managed to make it look like an accident. It made the whole process take longer than it was supposed to though, you sulked by sleeping at a motel and vehemently locking the windows and doors.
He appreciates you, just shows it quietly. The Shape makes sure your windows are locked, doors too, don't want any sickos breaking in. That's his job.
He'll hunt for you too. You coaxed him to stop killing rats to eat them and kudos to you he doesn't eat them anymore. Rats are just as scared of him as most of Haddonfield. If you don't know how to skin and prepare an animal carcass...well, you better start learning.
Oh, by the way, nobody messes with you. Not even the most insufferable, limp-dicked, conservative in Haddonfield and he annoys everyone! But nah, he's tight-lipped when it comes to you.
Everyone who had ever been rude to you...well...they pop up a few weeks later in various states of fucked up.
Your boyfriend does not understand gender conformity, at all. You will catch him wearing a sleeping kaftan around the house, completely at ease with himself. If you paint his nails, he doesn't fuss about the colour. If you decide to dress more feminine one day he'll just look at you and hum in approval - the same reaction if you dress more masculine.
The guy is called The Shape of Haddonfield, truly a frightening but surprisingly gender-neutral title.
So, do not fret, if anybody dares say anything they will rue the day they were born.
[CHEST BINDING] Ah, he makes it known when you've had enough. Michael will simply stand in front of you and point to his chest, a prompt for you to tell him what time you wore it. Then, he'll just stand and stare until you make a move to take it off. Yes, he has scared the shit out of you by popping out of nowhere whilst you were doing chores outside the house - no, he denies ever huffing a breath of amusement (a laugh in Michael's vocabulary) when you blurb out random exclamations and drop whatever it is you were holding.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He won't administer it. Michael doesn't even like to imagine stabbing you so why would he? So what if it's a needle, he simply refuses to do so. He will instead offer support by placing a hand on your shoulder or knee and if he somehow lost track of time while he was out, he'll return with your favourite snacks (he steals them obviously).
Tumblr media
Michael Myers (2007 - 2009) —
Staring but with more...feeling.
Mainly non-verbal but makes communicating easier by signing to you and occasionally whispering.
He is an open book to you in general though so you honestly have no idea why people find him so scary.
Yeah, you have a biased view but how could you not be when your boyfriend showers you with love any chance he gets.
Another arts and crafts lover, his face warms up when you gift him art supplies despite being "expressionless".
He isn't much of a fan of being touched anywhere near his neck or wrists so be wary of that. When he's about to touch you he makes it known by hovering his hand over you. You will need to reassure him he doesn't need to ask for permission every time but he does it anyways.
Aware of his size and strength, finds himself pleased with it despite how hard it is to stalk because he can keep you safe.
Oh, anyone with a shrimp-sized brain is going to have a rough night if they decide to be a dick to you. He will snap their spine over his knee and watch them try to crawl away like the pathetic worm they are.
Your boyfriend is willing to move away from his home once his vengeance is fulfilled.
Roadtrip? Roadtrip!
He is a homebody, if you believe it or not. Michael decorates your home with his artwork and has a good eye for aesthetics.
He wants to dress his beautiful lover (you) if you give him the chance.
Like OG!Michael, he doesn't completely understand why people take gender roles so seriously. Seriously, he can't wrap his mind around it. He honestly finds it all toxic - considering his parents and his sister's shitty boyfriends...why wouldn't he?
He wants you to play with his hair, please play with his hair. He will pass out the minute you do. Big on cuddles, being a Little Spoon is a state of mind not size so please Big Spoon him.
Another stalker, let's just conclude that any variation of Michael Myers just do it because they can. He likes keeping tabs on you is all. When you're working, he tries to keep busy but he just misses you...so don't mind him if you notice him in your peripheral vision whilst working.
[CHEST BINDING] He is good at counting down the minutes in his head. It happens when you're stuck in a mental institution and spend it in partial isolation. So, when he spots you putting on a binder for the day, he starts counting down. Yes, it is accurate and yes, he would prefer if you did take it off once he finishes his countdown - you could seriously hurt your body!
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Curls up behind you, stroking the upper parts of your thighs as he watches you set everything up. He begins humming as you prepare the needle which makes you smile every time.
Tumblr media
Billy Looomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) —
Oh boy, it's never a dull day with these two as your boyfriends.
"Black Cat" boyfriend, Billy Loomis and "Doberman" boyfriend, Stu Macher.
Will not elaborate...defeats the purpose of this entire thing if I don't though so fine -
Billy is calm, not calmer than Stu because that's actually quite an easy category to best him in. Billy is calm. He keeps the balance of your relationship. But he is a menace himself.
He stalks and slithers into your room when he pleases, holds you against him when he feels like it - which, by the way, does not mean he'll be mean if you lean against him or touch him, he just won't reciprocate but it is still welcomed. He also has a habit of pushing against your palm when you run your fingers through his hair or stroke his face. See? Black Cat boyfriend.
If you catch him in a bad mood, he can be snarky but Stu came up with the idea of ending every "bitch fight" with an "I love you". It helped a lot.
Your Doberman boyfriend holds you any chance he gets. It's one of the only ways he keeps still. Billy and you have to pin him down between the two of you to have a peaceful cuddle.
Stu is also much more protective/possessive than the two of you combine. His lovers are his alone. He will smile all teeth and gums and make people feel at ease but Stu is one scary man when he notices someone taking an interest in either of you. Billy and you have felt shivers of fear and anticipation down his spine when you see the gears in Stu's brain switch from "Stu" to "Ghostface".
Oh, oh, how sharp their smiles would be if a transphobe fucked around because they will make them find out. Not because they want you to get verbally abused or harassed! God, no!
They want you to watch them murder them. They will ask you to choose how to end them, how to play with them and what pieces should be found last.
Pieces of clothing are always shared, with how often everyone sleeps over it was inevitable. Accessories as well, hell, Stu managed to lose his body wash twice and he's been to both of your houses - it wasn't there either! Stu just buys things in bulk at this point.
Billy is really good at cutting and styling hair. If you ask, he will help you with yours - regardless of what style you want. If your hair texture is different from his own he will research about it to the best of his abilities.
Kisses with them are so messy. They always want to share and always at the same damn time - you get dizzy just trying to keep up in the mess of lips, teeth and tongue.
Stu throws parties, loves showing you off and Billy is there to whisk you upstairs if you get overwhelmed.
Both Ghostfaces have called you before. They tease you with lines like, "You got a boyfriend, handsome?" or "Damn, beautiful, your boyfriends get you all to themselves? Lucky boys"
[CHEST BINDING] "(Y/N)! How long have you been wearing your binder?" Stu calls from his kitchen, returning with a bowl of popcorn once you answered while you lay across Billy's front on the couch. "Been a while, right?" Billy said, a hand coming to rest on your back "Need a break?" Stu makes a noise of agreement as he lifts your legs and places them on his lap. "Want me to help, baby?" Stu asks.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Billy helps you with administering the shot while Stu holds you, sometimes switching around. Stu has accidentally stabbed himself with the needle - he apologized profusely as Billy tells him he's contaminated the entire thing (you roll your eyes fondly at your boyfriends, Ghostface looks anything but scary when the two of them are squabbling on the bathroom floor).
Tumblr media
Beauregard "Bo" Sinclair (House of Wax) —
I need to get this off my chest, Bo thinks hats are a staple of masculinity...close second are suits and ties, and cars come in third.
He gifts you hats. His favourite was the cowboy hat a victim no longer needed. While placing it on your head he made an obligatory sex joke, it was right there you can't possibly expect him not to.
Bo prefers for you not to make yourself known to victims, he knows you can handle yourself, he just worries.
That and he gets pissed when someone flirts with you. He gets even more pissed when they outright disrespect your identity and labels you as "weird".
He won't even pretend to feel sorry when Vincent questions where their bodies are while Lester grimaces when he sees their state.
If you're someone with long hair please be aware that Bo's eyes will shift to your wrists every so often if there are hairbands around them once he spots it. Anything that is too "snug" around your wrist will make Bo feel uneasy, he will ask you to take it off in an uncharacteristically soft tone that soon turns snappy if you attempt to prod.
When you see the marks on your boyfriend's wrists and/or find his baby seat you'll understand why.
Though he's a hardass to his brothers, he feels so much relief in knowing they love and trusts you just as much as he does.
Touchy - PDA hardly bothers him so why should he hold himself back when you're his darling lover.
Likes to tuck his hand in the back pocket of your pants (he pinches when he's feeling playful).
He rambles about cars. One night, as he was working on repairing a car, he rambles and slows to a stop when he feels as though he was talking too much but when you reassure him that you're listening and interested...his cheeks turn red.
Bo cooks. Not frequently, certainly not his usual task either, but if everyone else is busy/tired he rolls his sleeves and makes a classic and feel-good Southern meal.
[CHEST BINDING] Bo finds himself worrying. The heat and humidity probably don't help your case. He tries to convince you to wear tank tops or simply just your binder during hot days. Sometimes he even gruffs out you don't need to wear it at all as there's no one else around and the people that are there are the Sinclairs who know you. He won't push you but reminds you to keep yourself hydrated and not to push it.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Bo asks if you need help, won't intrude if you say no but he does squeeze in an extra kiss once you're done.
Tumblr media
Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) —
Vincent Sinclair gives me "White Cat" vibes. So regal looking, so calm and so adamant about not being needy when in fact...he is.
Your boyfriend is an artist. You are his muse. Tale as old as time but why fix what's not broken?
Nonverbal and uses sign language or simple gestures to communicate. He is a bit self-conscious of his laughter but oh how you love hearing it. It makes him squirm every time you stare at him with nothing but love in his eyes.
Refuses to have you interact with the victims. He makes sure you stay in his room, safe and sound.
Brat.
He was basically the favourite twin - he can be bratty even if he tries to deny it.
If you say "no" to him he genuinely gets wide-eyed and makes a whining noise. What do you mean you didn't want to stay in his basement to accompany him while he worked? So what if it's sweltering hot out and the basement feels like Hell on earth! Spend time with him!
Baby talk always makes him burst into fits of giggles - you could be as unfunny as a heart attack but the minute you start speaking in baby talk he loses it.
He got anxious at the thought of his brothers not liking you. There's no reason why they would dislike you but he just worries. They love you though and he is so relieved that you get along so well.
Feel free to "paint" his wax figures. If his mask is starting to get uncomfortable or he just felt like he wanted to make a new one, you're free to go crazy on his old one.
Your boyfriend complains about wax clumping his hair. You now make it a habit to either tie it up, using a claw clip to hold it back, or braiding his hair before he toils away in the basement.
Genuinely loves spending time with you, even if you're just chilling adjacently from each other. He made a designated (Y/N) space in the basement where you can do pretty much anything in peace with Vincent nearby.
The victim said what about you? There's no way he will immortalize a transphobe in this town. He burns them alive after he paralyses them from the neck down, relishing in their screams as they turn into nothing but ash.
You notice his hearing is unbalanced/muffled on one side of his face and how he seems as though he anticipates touch all the time on that side. You make sure you're always approaching him on his "good" side - he is eternally thankful.
Total cuddle bug when you two are alone, prefers being the Big Spoon as he tucks his head at the crown of your head. He snores sometimes if he's really tired.
[CHEST BINDING] Vincent educated himself on this topic. Honestly, like Bo, he worries if you overexert yourself with the heat and at one point discusses with you if you'd rather have your chest permanently flat/smaller. He'd need proper equipment but he'd do anything to ensure you're safe and content.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Parks himself in front of you and holds his hand out. Stares at you while you blink owlishly at him. His eye squishes into a crescent shape as he smiles once you hand over the needle to him. Let him take care of you, you're his darling muse!
Tumblr media
Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) —
He's the chaotic "Pitbull" boyfriend!
This sweet lad actually has trouble accepting help. It makes him uncomfortable if he thinks about it too deeply. He just found himself in scenarios where his usefulness was always at the forefront of why he was wanted, it's hard to get out of that mindset.
He loves you for helping him though, just have no idea how to articulate it properly. All blushes, stutters and squirms.
Your boyfriend gets excited when new victims come around, eager to loot through their things. Especially when someone has a similar style as you!
He gets self-conscious of how he smells because of the things he works with so he also loots tons of cologne and body sprays - you two basically have a goddamn Baths & Body Works on your bathroom vanity.
You two make a game of it, changing your scents for the day and deciding if it was shit or decent. Jonesy's vote is heavily influential.
Date nights are heavenly. Lester uses his nicer truck for outings. You two grab a bite and try to find new places to experiment since Ambrose is a ghost town and you two need to experience more than just death. Afterwards, he finds a lookout point and you three (yes, Jonesy follows) pile out to the back and curl up with the radio playing some cheesy country love songs.
If Jonesy is dropped off at the twin's place, the PG ratings climb the ladder.
Lester doesn't consider himself a violent man. He doubts he even wants to be if he is completely honest. But when someone flirts with you he feels this unbridled rage rise to his chest and down to his fist.
He spits at their feet as he tugs you away, his dominant arm already springing up in preparation for a punch when he feels them grab at his shoulder.
Grins when you scold him afterwards at home, nursing his bruised cheek.
If he's busy, Jonesy follows you to do chores!
By the way, that dog and your boyfriend always seem to know when some dick-for-brains are near you and steer you away. Will avoid confrontation when necessary.
Not above telling on the victims that shouted insults your way. Baby brother privilege!
His brothers adore you! So they find no trouble in slaughtering someone who dared spoke badly of you and upsetting Lester.
[CHEST BINDING] Lester is pretty observant of your cues. Quietly reminds you of how long you've been wearing your binder and offers to work out all the kinks in your back. He reads about it! Vincent helped him out as well. Lester peppers kisses all over your back once he's done, making sure you're practically melted against the bed once he's done.
[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He has slight hand tremors, minuscule but it worsens when he focuses on not twitching so he watches you as you do your thing, ruffling your hair and asking if you'd like anything to eat.
803 notes · View notes
slasherstories123 · 9 months
Note
You're "New Beginning" story that you made for me was so beautiful, that I cried. I was hoping maybe when you have the time, you could do a part two? Where the S/O and Vincent date a lot, and that she bought Vincent a new sketchbook and artist pencils.
Bo wanted her back, even though he said it's over, he got bored. Until he caught her actually dating Vincent after he climbed through the window with a small bouquet. The S/O refuses to go back to him of course, she loves Vincent now.
If you don't want to, you can just delete it and ignore it
New begging pt 2
Word count: 1.6k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @mrs-heelshire @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @beel-mcburger @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @charliedawn
Ever since the break up with Bo, it tore you apart, but his twin was there to bring you back up, you didn’t want to be with Vincent just yet, and he respected that. Waiting for whenever you were ready, when you did, he was happy, Ecstatic. Honestly, he treated you better than Bo did, you two always spent time with each other in the basement where he worked, or crafted. Even teaching you a few drawing skills. Mainly, you’d watch him draw or paint, always putting his hair in a braid or ponytail so no art products would get in it. He was grateful for it, grateful to have you for himself. You were happier with Vincent. Compared to Bo, he’s sweet and gentle.
Since Lester came to town, you decided to get groceries and other items from stores, thanking Lester for taking you as you got back home. Waving at the truck pulling off. You put up all the food that belonged in the cabinets and fridge, leaving a certain bag out. Black hair tickled your neck as you put up cans of soup, giggling to yourself, knowing who it was. “Hello to you too Vince.” Turning around, you hugged your boyfriend. His arms wrapped around you, returning the hug, chin resting at the top of your head. “I got you something,” You pulled away to grab the bag, smiling at the small head tilt he gave you, taking it to see what you got. It was a large sketchbook and sketch pencils. You paid attention to his art supplies, seeing that most of his sketchbooks were filled and the pencils were low.
“I thought you could have a bigger sketchbook, plus it was on sale, made me think of you.”
The man smiled under the mask, gently tilting your head upwards so his masked lips could kiss your forehead, his way of saying thank you. You kissed his mask cheek. “You’re welcome, Vinny.” You took a good look at him, his back was still kinda hunched forward, indicating that he’s been sitting in a chair for hours. He looked sluggish. Tired even. “Is this your first time coming out of the basement since I left?” You cupped his masked face ever so gently. He shamefully nodded, hair tickling your nose, you rubbed it so you wouldn’t sneeze. “Vinny you gotta learn when to take breaks, your health matters.” His soft hands grabbed your wrists, thumbs rubbing against your veins. He understood.You hated it when he didn’t take breaks or would spend up to hours working on art or sculpting figures.
His forehead rested against yours, making you laugh. Looks like he really missed you today. Sounds of plastic filled both of your ears. Vincent turned around to see his twin brother at the door with a bouquet of flowers in his right hand, wearing the blue suit he’d always wear at the church. Tilting his head upwards to look at the two of you. He stood there silent. You had a feeling that you knew what he wanted to say. You whispered to Vincent, giving him the bag and telling him to go downstairs, you’ll meet him down there.
He looked at Bo and complied, nodding his head and leaving. Now that you two were alone, you leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “Bo?” You spoke. The man took a few steps forward, handing the flowers out in your direction. “I…” He paused, you moved your hand in a way telling him to continue. “I want you back darling.” “I’m not your darling. Not anymore, you had your chance and you blew it. Badly.” He was taken back by the response.
“Come on Y/N don’t be like this…”He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Okay?” It was rare for Bo to even apologize at all, so it caught you off guard, only a little. Shaking your head, you pushed the flowers to his chest. “I will accept your apology, but I’m not getting back with you, as you can see, I’m with Vincent, and am much happier with him. Like I said, you had your chance, plus, you were the one that broke up first, remember?”
He didn’t say anything, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t describe. Plus, he never acted like he wanted you back until now. It was like he didn’t care at first, but got bored. You weren’t gonna make that mistake. He might do the same things again, you weren’t going to fall for it.
“So, you can take those flowers, and give it to the next woman that comes to Ambrose, I’m sure she’ll love it like I would’ve done.” You gave him a smile, patting his shoulder, leaving the man alone in the kitchen to pounder in his thoughts. Ever since the breakup things have been weird, especially since you had to stay with Bo in order to play your role in getting the victims to trust you, but after a while everything was fine. You thought he was fine, going back to his old self since he didn’t have to worry about a partner, who knew he'd turn around and try and ask you back despite him breaking up first.
As you left the kitchen, you ran into Vincent, just by his body language, you could tell he was guilty. You sighed. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” He nodded slowly. You hugged him, feeling slight tension be released from your shoulders. “Just know that nothing is going on. I’ll always be with you.” His body slightly tensed up, but hugged you back, Glad that you chose to stay with him. “Now come on, I’d like to see more art you made since I was gone. After that, you’re taking a nap, it looks like you need one.” You could tell he was happy at the sentence, head slowly nodding. Plus, a nap sounds good. Holding your hand to guide you to the basement, where you could praise him for the beautiful art he’s made.
148 notes · View notes
g0thl3zz · 2 years
Text
Slashers asking their S/O to sing for them
Various! Slashers x GN Reader (fluff hcs + Drabbles)
2.7k words, 14.7k characters
A//N: Not really proofread but I wrote this over the span of like 3 months bc I'm lazy. Okay? Okay. Enjoy c:
INCLUDES: Peepaw Michael, RZ! Michael, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, All three Sinclair brothers, Poly! Ghostface, Billy Lenz, & Brahms Heelshire!
Peepaw Myers
Doesn't really care
Kinda just silently waits for you to notice him and stop
He'll listen, but won't pester you to sing for him like Bubba or Brahms would
  Michael was out- so you had decided to get some chores around the house knocked out when he was doing, well… whatever it was he did when he went out. You had already done the kitchen, so you had moved onto the laundry, starting with Michael's, first. You tried not to get overwhelmed by the smell of dried up blood on his clothes and had set your mind on singing a simple tune while you loaded up the washer, one you had heard from t.v a while ago that had lingered in your head since. You slammed the washer shut after putting in detergent and as much bleach as was safe before turning to the door, jumping a bit when you see Michael there, covered with blood splatters. "Oh gosh, go! Go change out of that, quickly. So I can throw it in the washer too." You state. He stares at you, just standing there looking at you. You would have thought him a statue if not for his chest moving with his every breath. You sigh. "C'mon Michael, I'll change you this time." You say, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bathroom. From then on, you would catch him peeking into the laundry room whenever you would put a load in to wash, secretly hoping to catch you singing, even humming. Though, he would never outright ask you to sing for him, he appreciates it when you do.
Tumblr media
RZ Michael Myers
Absolutely LOVES it when you sing
He loves your voice, if he walks in on you singing, he'll walk over and hug you gently from behind, rocking with you and happily humming along.
He expects you to sing for him when you guys lay down to sleep
He WILL fall asleep like a baby if you sing to him
   You were taking a shower while Michael was out of the house. You had left the door open since you were the only one home, and you allowed yourself to sing as loud as you wished. As you dried your hair off, you nearly jumped into the ceiling when you felt a pair of big arms wrap around you- still in your birthday suit. "Jesus, Mike. Back already? What happened?" You said with a sigh, pulling away to get dressed. Or, attempting to pull away. "Baby, let me get dressed then we can talk about it, okay?" You say, tugging at his arms. He shakes his head, briefly giving a quiet hum while staring at you. A grin takes over your face as you turn around in his arms. "You want me to sing?" He nods. "Alright, then." You told him before starting off with a soft love song, and Michael began swaying side to side, you still in his arms. You let yourself relax into his hold as you sang to him, hoping he would do this to you more often.
Tumblr media
Bubba Sawyer
Also loves when you sing.
In the shower together? Better sing to him. Going to sleep? Better sing for him. In the kitchen? Better bust out a tune.
Will drag you to the farm to sing for the chickens.
Loves when you sing sitting on the couch. He'll lay his head in your lap and let you play with his hair. This drives him absolutely crazy.
  You had woken up earlier than usual, and had managed to escape Bubba's iron grip in bed to go to the kitchen and cook something for breakfast. You sung to yourself, since it was just you and the sleeping man in the house at the moment. As you stirred eggs, you sung "Wise men say," You sway from side to side with a gentle smile "only fools rush in." You feel arms wrapping around you, swaying with you. As you stirred the eggs, you reached a hand up behind you to cup his cheek, your smile growing ever-wider. "But I can't help, falling in love," You slow the song down considerably, putting down your spatula to turn around and wrap your arm around Bubba's neck. "With" You sung as the two of you swayed in a romantic dance. "You~" you finish, snuggling your face into his big 'ol chest. You hear him make the cutest little happy noises and look up. "I'll sing for you more often, my love. Now, I'm sure the eggs are done. Go get some plates." From then on, you kept your promise. When you washed his hair in the bath, singing a song for him. Whilst cooking or helping with chores, he urged you to sing. In front of his family? He wanted to show you off like his prized possession- which you indeed were.
Tumblr media
Thomas Hewitt
Would happily sit in the room sewing masks while you sing.
His ideal evening? Sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, you on his lap while you sing to him.
He would have you sit at the table singing while him and Luda Mae cool instead of turning on the radio
 You walked back into the house, sweating from simply walking down the road to pick some wildflowers for the house. Typical Texas heat- that you still had yet to become so used to. At least it was cooler in the house, air conditioner or not. As you wiped the sweat from your face with your shirt, you noticed the sweet sounds of food being cooked- along with the accompaniment of a lady crooning an old tune from the staticky radio Luda Mae kept. A smile had begun to dawn on your face as you began humming along, slowly turning into you singing along to the music the closer you got to the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, singing and watching as Thomas looked up from the cutting board, a smile being evident from behind his mask through his eyes. You walked over, giving him a side hug as you kept singing. You were glad for the little moments like this. 
Tumblr media
Bo Sinclair
Would pretend like he doesn't care
 But would urge you to keep singing
"No, no, don't mind me." As he walks past you to get something as slowly as possible
Would begin stealing cds from the cars of victims to give you a wider variety of music
"These? Oh , nahh. Just wanted to… start a collection. Always good to have a broad taste, eh?"
   Bo was down at the garage- so you had decided to use this opportunity to clean the house. It was… messy, to say the least. You couldn't begin to guess when the place was last cleaned. You managed to dig up a cd player and a stack of cds early on into cleaning, so you set that up so you could jam out as you began sorting stuff from trash and placing clothes into hampers. You were happy some of the cds you found belonged to familiar artists,so you sang along as you cleaned, not hearing the door open or the thud of his boots walking up the living room, which you were currently cleaning. Behind you, he turned off the stereo and asked. "What are you doing?" "OH! Oh gosh you scared me, what are you doing back so early?" You asked, turning around to him after your small shock. "Came back to get something. You sing?" He asked, nudging one of the piles you had made with his boot. "Aht! Don't do that! I spent so long just to get this this point. Gosh, just decided to clean up. Clean house equals a clean mind, right?" He nodded with a "hmm. Well, don't mind me. I'll be in and out." He said with a nod, pressing play on the stereo before thumping upstairs to the room. You watch him leave before turning back around and placing more trash in the bag. After a few minutes, you turn to skip the song and see Bo standing there, watching you from the base of the stairs. You pause it, once again and call out. "Changed your mind about going back?" "Nah, why ain't ya singing?" "Oh- uhm, I was just gonna skip this song. Why, you like my singing~?" He pinkens a bit and turns to the door, opening it up and telling you "Psssh, nah. I just hoped I didn't ruin your mood. Well, I'm off now." And with that, he leaves. You shake your head as a smile finds its way onto your face. He was clearly lying, but you were glad he was happy. 
Tumblr media
Vincent Sinclair
Would watch you sing
Wouldn't bother you, just sitting there nicely
Would ask you to come down to the museum to sing for him while he works on sculptures.
Would start making you little sculptures based off the songs you sing
Would dig around in the attic for sheet music for you to sing- even though it's meant for the piano.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt the taps on your shoulder. You turned off the potter's wheel and turned back to see Vincent standing there, holding a stack of paper to his chest with one hand and signing with the other. 'I found these' Since your hands were caked with clay, you opted to speak. "Okay… what is it?" 'Music' "Oh gosh," You started. "Again? Vincent, I can't sing piano music-there aren't even any lyrics!" You exclaimed. The masked man deflated a big, still staring at you. The silence stretched on for a minute before you sighed. "Fine, fine! Let me wash off first then I'll take a look at it." You stood to your feet. Vincent followed close behind you, anticipating hearing your voice once again. You went to the sink in the basement and washed your hands off and wiped them on your pants. "Let's go upstairs- too hot in here." You say and take the sheets from his hands. You read the music as you two walk up the stairs, nodding and quietly humming the notes to yourself. Once you're back on the ground level, your plop yourself on the couch and look over at him. "Since there aren't any lyrics, I can only hum it." You tell him. 'That's fine, I just wanna hear you…' He signs, and you could feel your heart melt. 'I love you' You sign, then begin the song. It was low and quiet at first, then began swelling with a crescendo all the way to forte and stayed mostly on the lower side of the octave. You finished quickly, a short but sweet piece. By the end, Vincent had laid his head down in your lap, and by the way his chest rose and his eye was closed, you could tell he had fallen asleep. "I've been played," You whisper.
Tumblr media
Lester Sinclair
"Oh gee, sweetpea. You have the voice of an angel!"
Would get a goofy grin when you would sing for him, looking at you so happily
Would take you and Jonesy with him to go clean up the roadkill, insisting you sing instead of playing the radio.
 "No, no! I insist, y'all come. Just sing summn real purtty like ya' do n we'll have a ball!" He spoke. "...Really Lester?" You questioned the man. "Yes! I'm as serious as a dead man!" He exclaims. You couldn't help but break into a smile, rolling your eyes playfully and standing from where you had been sitting. "... Fiiiine, I guess! Just because you asked so nicely… andforjonesy” You finally complied with him, adding the last part in a quick whisper. “What’d ya say?” “NOTHIIING!! I’ll be in the car for when you’re ready to go!” You say, skipping out as the black and white pitbull trots next to you. You get to his truck and toss the passenger door open, letting Jonesy hop inside before getting in and closing the door behind yourself. Lester soon follows, turning the car, though it takes a few tries for it to rumble to life. When it finally does, he opens the glove compartment and begins the drive. "All 'O ma CDs in there, put on whatever ya' like." He hums, glancing over at you before petting Jonesy and continuing the drive. You do as he says- rifling through his CD collection before pulling out a Frank Sinatra CD. "Sinatra, really?" You ask him. "Well- yea. Found it in a broke down car." "Mhhhm, sure." You laugh and insert it into the player. You begin quietly. "L, is for the way you look," You poke his jaw playfully. "At me~" You can see him glancing over at you before looking back at the dirt road, a smile blossoming onto his face. "O is for the only one, I see. V is very very" You pet Jonesy. "Extraordinary. E is even more than anyone that you adore can!" You finish and can't help but admire Lester's grin. "Oh gosh, baby. You're the best." He says quietly, thinking about how lucky and happy he is. You wished you could etch this moment in stone, and keep it alive forever. 
Tumblr media
Poly! Ghostface (Billy+Stu)
Billy would tell you to shut tf up (doesn’t really mean it)
Stu would ignore him and encourage you to sing more for them
(stu) Would record you singing in the shower & show you later
Stu would set up karaoke night
Billy would hate it 
“I’m not fucking doing karaoke. It’s stupid.” (ends up doing it anyways)
Billy would sing the tequila song
 “No- no- look! Karaoke is a great idea. Bill. (y/n) already said yes. Don’t be such a party pooper.” “Yeah, Bill~. Don’t be such a party pooper!” You chime in. You could practically hear his eyes roll to the back of his head. “….Fine.'' After a long pause. You and Stu rejoiced, the blonde man pulling you both into a bear hug. "We're gonna have so much fun man!". Skip three hours later. Stu had ran to the store, got a karaoke machine  and every snack you could think of- soda, chips, popcorn, lofthouse cookies (WHICH ARE GREAT AND I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THAT), and candy. You and Billy had surfed through all of your combined CD and cassette collection for songs you wanted to sing- or simply vibe too.  Once Stu had come back, the two insisted you sing first. "No, god why me! Why can't you go, Stu?" "heyyy, man. Majority rules, and Me 'n Bills wanna hear your sweet sweeeet voice." You groaned, h=face growing warmer at the statement, but nonetheless you went first, you had a song picked out and began singing, closing your eyes as you began to sway and feel the beat. By the time the song had ended, Stu was all over you, hands underneath your shirt and swaying with you. Billy was sitting back and watching from the couch with a smirk. "Looks like the show's just getting started~" He crooned. 
Tumblr media
Billy Lenz 
Would call and ask you to sing for him
Would be happy and start crying when you end up going to the attic to sing to him in person.
"Pretty piggie singing for Billy! Oh piggie is so pretty!" 
Yea that's all I got
Ily tho Billy my beloved
Brriiiing. The phone rung, filling your house with the annoying pitch. "I'm coming!" Calling out to the house, knowing you were alone besides for him. You pick up the receiver and hold it up to your ear answering with a "Hello?" "Piggie! Pretty piggie!" You hear a feral-sounding voice from the other end. "Lala! La la la la la~" You hear the voice say. "Billy, I'm going up there-" "Pig-!" You put the receiver back up and make your way to the basement, climbing up the ladder and entering, seeing brown eyes peeking at you from behind a box. "Billy, if you want me to sing for you, just ask. You don't have to stay in the attic y'know?" You pull yourself up and walk over to the man, sitting beside him on the dusty floor. His big eyes well up with tears. "Oh- piggy. Billy loves the pretty piggy." "I love you too Billy." You say, pulling him into a hug before taking him downstairs with you. You put a CD into the stereo and jamming out to "Mariah Carey' Christmas hits" While finishing up the dishes, Billy sitting on the counter next to you and kicking his feet happily.
Tumblr media
Brahms Heelshire
Would try and make you sing opera
"It's in Italian"
"But it's my favorite!"
Begging you on his KNEES
"Look- Brahmsy. You know I can't speak French. How do you expect me to sing this?" "B-but! It has everything you just have to read and sing!" You look at him with warning in your eye. "Brahms." You say firmly. He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well- I'm not going to bed until you do!" He says, throwing the blankets off of him and sits on the bed with his back facing you. "Ugh, Brahms. I can sing you anything else." You say and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs your hand off with a "Hmph!" "Really? You're gonna do this to me?" You say, no response. Silent treatment. "Okay- okay. Fine, just give me a few minutes." You tell him. You pick up the sheet music, skimming through the notes and rests before your eyes fall below the staffs to the lyrics. It didn't look too bad, you wouldn't be able to sing it perfectly but at least ya'd be able to sing it somewhat decently. "Do you have it on record, so I can sing to the music, at least?" You ask. Silently, your companion rises from his seat and takes a vinyl out from the cover, placing it on the record player and setting the needle on the record. A wonderful duet of viola and cello croon from the speaker and fill the air. You keep up with the sheet music and begin at your cue, singing softly instead of the opera style it's meant to be performed in. "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle, Que nul ne peut apprivoiser." After only five measures, you feel Brahms come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and buries his bare face in the crook of your neck, swaying to the beat. You stop, looking behind you and seeing his porcelain mask on the bed. A smile invades your face as you bring your hands up to hold his. "I love… you," He whispers softly. You stay like that until the record ends. 
829 notes · View notes
nathansexplosionn · 1 year
Text
just thinkin bout .. bo sinclair hands ..
⚠️warning slight nsfw content!!
Tumblr media
imagine. . .
• • • •
• • •
• •
you're on your knees eyes averted to the floor..Bo grips your chin forcing you too meet his eyes..a smirk forming on his lips.. "Darlin' you look so good like this..my little pet, being so good for me hm..?" He smiles cockily, filled with pride knowing he gets to use you to his dispose, his hand snakes into your hair giving it a good tug, as he leads you to do exactly what he wants. Biting his lip as he eyes you. "Now..you know what to do sugar, be good for me and get to work wontcha?"
thank you for reading if you like my stuff please give me a follow and a like! :3
tags!
117 notes · View notes
fluffy-little-demon · 2 years
Text
Bo Sinclair x Female Reader
This is just completely for me which is why the reader is referred to as Bo's wife.
Tumblr media
You come storming through the front door yelling "we're getting married"
Bo's sitting on the couch watching something on the tv, and is now hella confused "who's getting married?"
Rolling your eyes slightly "we are ya dipshit" you hand him a ring "I found this while me and Les were searching through that couples car"
"Ok, so is this ring for me or for you?"
"It's for you"
Bo quickly stood up moving round the couch saying "good, cause I'd already got a ring for ya" before speed walking upstairs into your shared bedroom.
"Wait, what" now you're the one that's confused.
Before your brain can process what has been said Bo comes back down with a ring box in his hand. If you didn't know him you would say he looked completely calm but you can tell he's nervous for what's about to happen. He opens the box with a gorgeous (whatever ring you want) inside.
"I've had this for about a couple months now I just never knew when to ask ya"
You have happy tears running down your face as you never thought Bo would propose. You had been daydreaming about being an actual married couple, you play Bo's wife whenever there are people in town so why not make it official. You know it won't be legal for starters the priest is made of wax but you really don't care.
"So what ya say darlin, wanna be my wife?"
Your voice wouldn't work so you nodded furiously while smiling and pulling him into a lingering kiss.
693 notes · View notes
phebth · 2 years
Text
……… idk where tf y’all get this mindset that y/n is legit the most innocent angel BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU I WOULD’VE ROCKED THEIR SHIT FROM THE MOMENT I MET THEM‼️
PETITION TO MAKE Y/N HAVE ATTITUDE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT IF I SEE ONE MORE POST ABT READER NOT BEING ABLE TO STAND THEIR GROUND I WILL LOOSE MY MIND
and btw i’m not talking abt those wholesome posts with flower crowns and sweet stuff that’s cute af i’m talking abt people who r straight up making it so that reader is being TARGETED and DEGRADED and not being able to snap back a reply‼️
Tumblr media
-bo agrees with this statement
754 notes · View notes
Text
When You're Sick
Tumblr media
pairing: bo x gn!reader
a/n: writing this because i'm literally so ill right now lol and i need comfort from this beautiful man <3
Tumblr media
You wake up one morning, your head pounding and your throat feeling like you've swallowed razor blades, and Bo is still snoring loudly beside you. It isn't long though until your coughing wakes him up, and he's groaning in annoyance as he slowly sits up, squinting in the morning sunlight.
He turns to find you laid beside him, your face white as a sheet, dark circles under your eyes. You look like one of Vincent's projects, you're so lifeless.
"You look like shit." He simply says, getting up and walking out of the room, leaving you alone in the bed.
You didn't expect him to care much that you were sick, but you didn't think he'd just tell you you looked like shit and abandon you. You supposed that was just who he was. But just moments later, he comes back into the room, much to your surprise.
"Alright, I got juice or beer. Your choice." He offers, holding out the two beverages to you. "And we ain't got much food in the house, so I could run out and get you some."
You don't know what to say, you're not used to Bo being so...attentive. You feel a smile tugging at your lips as you sit up slightly, watching as a look of confusion crosses his features.
"What?" He asks. "Why're you smilin'?"
"Thank you." You say quietly, your throat feeling like it might just tear from speaking. "And I think I'll take the juice."
Bo struggles to suppress a smile, simply choosing not to provide you with a response as he approaches you, handing you the bottle of orange juice. But before you can take a swig of the drink, he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
"Alright, I'll just go get ready, and then I'll go get you somethin' to eat, okay?"
You nod, suddenly feeling so much better now as you lift the bottle to your lips. "Okay."
Tumblr media
[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]
216 notes · View notes
the-cannibal · 2 years
Text
Slashers with a s/o who wants to paint their nails!
Gender neutral reader, they/them used.
Bo Sinclair:
You want to paint his nails?
Good luck babes.
“Bo can I paint your nails? Pleaseee?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“When hell freezes over.”
>:(
This man will not let you hear his nails with a ten foot pole… unless you start crying…
If you start crying then he will let you paint them with CLEAR POLISH ONLY.
But don’t pull out the tears too often, or else he will get suspicious.
Vincent Sinclair:
“Vincent can I paint your nails?”
He nods without looking up from the art piece he’s working on.
“Vinny you need to give me your hands.”
Gives you one at a time so he can keep working.
He’d let you do whatever color you want. But his favorites are black and dark green :)
He would definitely accidentally smudge them.
He would also be blushing like crazy because this man is touched stared and omg look at his amazing s/o just holding his hands so nicely. They are just the greatest.
Lester Sinclair:
“Lester can I paint your nails?”
“Sure hun!”
This man would LOVE it if you painted his nails.
Like Vincent he doesn’t care what color you choose. This man loves them all!
If you paint his nails and put on like those little stickers on top he would be so happy.
Constantly does the 💅 hand thing. He can’t help it. It’s just so funny.
Bubba Sawyer:
Uhhhhh is this even a question? Of course he’d let you!
Please paint them red or pink. He loves those colors!
He would love it when you paint his nails because one yay bonding time! And two because he thinks they would go nice with his masks! Gives them a pop of color (and it makes his makeup covered mask look more pretty!)
He wants to paint your nails too! Matching colors matching colors!
Your nails are a bit messy, but hey! You love them anyway!
Drayton would totally make fun of them but Bubba wouldn’t care.
His s/o did them and he loves it! And they did a great job too Drayton!
Michael Myers:
“Mikeyyyyy can I paint your nails?”
No response…
“I’m gonna take that as a yes!”
I don’t think he’d really care tbh. Like he wouldn’t like it but he wouldn’t dislike it either.
He’s neutral about it.
But it makes you happy and that makes him feel some kind of feeling.
285 notes · View notes
Text
MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles
Tumblr media
Plots / Includes: These are each inspired by texts from the Unsent Project- so this is gonna be heartbreaking 😅 . Enjoy XD
(Also- the ratings at the end of the blurbs is how upsetting it is at least in my opinion, for your convenience XD 😅 0 is happy, 5 is sad, 10 is dark. Remember these are my opinions so take them with a grain of salt and proceed cautiously if you think anything will trigger you ^^ I'm just trying this out)
Bo Sinclair x ChildhoodSweetheart!Reader- whatever happen to us, remember that i always loved you and always will. Your parting words to your childhood sweetheart before you leave town. || 6-7 1/2 out of 10
Captain Hook x Reader- i don’t hate you. i’m sorry it ended how it did. An affirming moment between two people who used to love each other. || 4-5 out of 10
Cruella De Vil x Model!Reader- you did a damn good job of hurting me, but not good enough i’m healing. You call her up and say some things that satisfying your fricken soul. || 8-9 out of 10 (its angry)
Hades x Reader- even when I get over you and all that you’ve done for me, i’ll never forget the happiness. This one’s about an ex-lover of the lord of the dead who, if you asked, would never say a bad thing about him. And how he responds. || 2-3 out of 10
Inkubus x Reader- if you had said something earlier it would have been you. He finally admits he really wants you which is all you’ve wanted for the last 5 years but its awful because its too late and you cant do this with him now. || 6-7 out of 10
Laughing Jack x Reader- i hope you can forgive me one day. i’m sorry i didn’t say goodbye when u left. i love you. These are the words L.J wishes he could send you, but that part of him that can admit those things out loud died a long time ago. || 5-6 out of 10
Wheezy Weasel x Reader- the universe keeps putting us in the same place at the same time and you still refuse to come to me. Wheezy is sick and tired of letting you leave every time you two find your ways back to eachother so he lays it all out on the table for you. || 5!!! out of 10
Warnings: Heartbreak and angst throughout. But also mentions of Mr and Mrs Sinclair (Neglect and abusive parenting), break ups, past break ups, caring about eachother but not getting back together, kind of psychotic reader in Cruella’s, being in mutual love but not being together, death of reader, gratuitous swearing, inner struggles, L.J struggling with his emotional trauma, break ups, immoveable objects, etc. Also unedited.
Bo Sinclair: whatever happen to us, remember that i always loved you and always will
Tumblr media
Bo always had a deficiency in love- his parents never truly loved him and in a house like that you learn to protect yourself. You have to learn to protect yourself so your heart doesn’t break daily. You could tell this was in him, or it wasn’t in him, from the moment you met Bo when the two of you were 5. He just had that… air. And little five-year-old you, in overalls and mud, felt for him.
Since then, you did everything you could to make him feel loved, because honestly? From the second moment you met him he was. Sure, at first it was just puppy love; A little kid looking at another little kid and thinking he would look perfect next to a picket fence walking a cute dog, or in a church holding your hand. Despite that it was more then enough fodder to build a lifelong relationship from, developing rapidly over the years from being sandbox buddies to sneaking out of your window at night after a fight with your parents just to spend the night in his truck with him. To making out behind school for the first time and ending up with a kissing rash you hid by staying home for days. To him inviting you to prom. At 16 the two of you were the steadiest couple in town. And you were right when you were a kid- he would look good in a church holding your hand, now.
… Your heart still pangs like hell in your chest when you even just remember that that is never going to happen, though.
Because you cant stay and he cant leave.
He’s never going to walk that dog (Skippy you’d named it in your head over the years, after the peanut butter Bo liked) by that damn picket fence you would’ve taken such good care of. You would never get married, though it felt something like torture inside knowing that you two would not share a future at all.
Bo always had a deficiency in love- it came from his parents and you tried like hell to put him back together but looking at him now, your bags in the backseat and the drivers side of your car open, waiting for you… and him standing there all sweet and charismatic, like he’s not bothered by this when he raged last night in the darkness of your back yard… you can see it never really got fixed. Nothing you can do could ever repair what they broke. And it destroys you inside.
Sniffing, you carefully lay your hands on his shoulders just to feel him a last time, maybe commit him to memory. The darkness over his eyes from the baseball cap on his head hides the dark look inside him that you saw last night. You give him a serious look, nudging your forehead against the rim of his hat. You take a deep breath in, for saying goodbye with-
-He immediately shakes his head, leaning back from you. “Don’t say it.”
“Bo- “
“Naww, don’t say it.” Theres a good-humoured smirk on his face but the tone in his voice is not joking. He’s not joking. “Y’can still stay. C’mon, I’ll help you unpack- “
“Bo,” You start again, insisting and closing the space between you two again. Persistently, you catch his eye before speaking again, waiting until he’s still and he’s paying attention.
… Then you take another deep breath and lean your forehead softly against the rim of his hat, this time. “Whatever happens to us- I need you to know-… I always loved you, and always will.”
Then you squeeze your eyes shut, squeeze your fingers into his shoulders one last time, and then break away into the car.
Captain Hook: i don’t hate you. i’m sorry it ended how it did
Tumblr media
Of all the things to see outside your window at night, this had to be one of the most surprising. Sure, its true that he used to visit you at your window every night, you would leave the window open for him, but its been years since then and now the window is closed and latched. And yet, he’s here.
Even so, you move forward a moment after you see him and unlock the window for him once again- then step back and wrap your dressing gown tightly around your body; eyes wide as they flicker up and down his body. “Is everything okay??- “
“Everything is fine, my dear.” A terrible pang rings throughout your chest at him calling you that, a twisted echo of the reaction you used to have to his pet name for you. A lot can change in 3 years, you suppose… but that doesn’t mean you like it. “I just… I wished to… ask you something.”
This experience is almost surreal, for you. Dreamy. Having Hook turn up at your window again after all this time has been a dream - no, nightmare, - for you since you said goodbye; You imagined all the things he might say, the way he might beg for you back and the way he might come back just to have a last word with you… you were never sure which was worse. Whether you hate them or still care about them, its always awful when your ex comes back. Its always painful.
You’re not quite sure which one this is. Looking warily at him, you arms crossed over your chest, you feel the cold air coming in from around him on your face and shake your head “… Why don’t you come inside?”
“… thank you, but no.”
“Why not??”
“I don’t think I’ll be staying for long, to be frank. Can I ask my question now, dear?”
“I… “Taking a deep breath in to strengthen yourself, you nod. “I suppose. Go ahead… “
Something in his face shifts then, something vulnerable appears. “Well I.. I- I’ve been thinking lately, about our time together. I had a dream, and… “ His eyes flicker away from yours for a moment, and you know he had dream like yours. You sympathise, but sympathy is a dangerous game and you can’t fall back into old feelings for him- it would be too much, having to start again from the beginning getting over him. So you fold your arms tighter and lift your chin, holding it in when he looks at you again. “And I couldn’t get it out of my head. Smee, that… blundering fool… suggested I come here and ask you myself, so- I- I just have to know, my dear… do you harbour any ill-feelings towards me, still? I know that we ended things and it was unpleasant but I would really regret it if… if you hated me, for anything I said at that time.”
At this you cant help it, your expression immediately softens and your arms loosen against your chest almost entirely. You feel bad for him. And you would never want him to ever think that.
You??? Hating him?????
You couldn’t.
“No… no no no- I- I could never- “ God, you’re a blubbering idiot. Taking a deep breath to calm down and possibly manage a complete sentence, you start again. “… I don’t hate you. I’m sorry for how it ended.”
The two of you just look at eachother, then. Searching eachothers faces for any of the malice that you remember from those last weeks- it wasn’t that you suddenly disliked each other though, it just… some things… sometimes two people aren’t meant to be for that long.
And thankfully, its not there.
A warm smile crinkles the corners of Hooks eyes, and he nods. “As am I.”
Cruella De Vil: you did a damn good job of hurting me, but not good enough i’m healing
Tumblr media
“Arghhhh!” The frustrated scream is muffled by the pillow you have pressed against your face but its still loud, and you don’t feel better afterwards when you pull your warm face away from the pillow and force a deep breath. When that doesn’t work either you stand up, throw the pillow on the floor and stomp down on it.
Its childish, you know. But you are pissed.
Not only did she just stop answering your calls, stop looking at you at work, stop asking for your presence - like it was some switch!, - , but now she’s fired you!??
This. Bitch.
“How the fuck could she do this??” You hiss, storming to one side of your little studio apartment- then whipping around storming to the other side. “I am the face of that stupid fucking company!” With that, you snatch up a cushion from the couch this time on your way across the room. Its one she gave you, made of precious fur so she wouldn’t have to totally slum it in your apartment the rare times that she visited. You stop and stare at it for a few moments, fury bubbling and rising inside you at the sight of the stiff, uncomfortable black-and-white thing before you finally whip around again and go to your desk. There you grab a pair of scissors and stab them into the ugly thing.
That feels good. So you rip the scissors out again and cut a sizeable chunk out of one of the corners.
It cuts surprisingly easily and you sit down for a few minutes at your desk just cutting away at it until all you have now is a pile of feathers and fur. When its finished, you’re a little calmer and pick up your polaroid camera from the very edge of your desk. Snap!
“Hmmm,” You smirk, shaking out the polaroid until it shows the picture. “Cruella will appreciate this nailed to her office door I think… god I sound like a psycho… “For a moment, you consider chopping up the photograph, instead- but instead just shrug. “Honestly oh-fucking-well.“
Cruella made you this way. She can reap the rewards.
“… fucking hell… “As you sit by the ex-cushion and its innards, you feel an almost sadness looking at it. You remember how she bought in the first place, yes to jazz up your home a little bit so she doesn’t feel uncomfortable in the low-rent district,… but also so she could be there when you were sick that one time. That was shockingly warm, of her. You thought after that, that she actually cared about you.
Then your face goes sour again, anger licking at your heart like flames. Because despite that, she did this to you. Somewhere between then, and now, she decided that you weren’t in fact worth it. She changed her mind. Like you were an option on the fucking menu.
Slamming the scissors down on the desk and dropping the polaroid, you stalk across the room back to your bed. You throw pillows off of it until you find your cell phone, that she gave you, and punch in the numbers that would get you her.
 When the ringing stops and the line clears, and you can hear her breath in to say something, you immediately speak first. As far as you are concerned- she has nothing to say. “How dare you- I am a supermodel you heinous, ice cold, disgusting old freak. Your company is going to crumble without me to wear your rags and you’ll- ughh! You’ll- “ What? She’ll regret this? She’ll miss you? She’ll want you back? You know in your heart that none of that will happen. And it kills you. “Agh! I’ll- I’ll find something better. I’ll be much happier working for- being with, someone else. I promise.” Are you promising her, or yourself??? Either way this screeching has calmed you down some, and now you’re just standing there with one hand on your hip, breathing carefully. “… you know what? You hurt me real bad, Cruella, you did a fantastic job. But not good enough- I’m gonna heal.” As soon as you say it you know its true, and a semblance of sanity returns to your mind.
Then you hang up and, for good measure, you throw the cell phone at a wall with all your might- smashing it into pieces.
Hades: even when I get over you and all that you’ve done for me, i’ll never forget the happiness
Tumblr media
“Even when I get over this and you and everything we had- I’ll never forget how happy you made me.” Those would be your last words to him. Those were perfect, you thought. He needed to know that despite this not working between you both anymore, that he would still never be a villain in your life. A lot of people make those assumptions about him and just because you were finished, you would never revert to being on of them. He made you happy for a long time when you thought you wouldn’t be that again and that will never be erased by anything. Not to you.
So, giving one final teary smile, you then turned around and walked away.
Its many many years later when you see eachother again. You’re much, much older now and your heart stopped beating. He meets you at the gate, not something he does with just everyone, and he smirks at you just like he used to.
Its nice, that he still looks at you the same now as he did back then. It makes you feel warm inside, despite being dead.
“So… welcome back.” Are the first words he says to you in so long, and you give a warm smile in response. Sure, you should be scared… you’re dead… but looking at him, you just can’t be. “How bout I show you to your bunk for the next eon?”
Nodding yes, you follow him nervously past the gates and past the river styx. You’re surprised, walking by that- aren’t you going in there?? You thought you would… But Hades keeps moving, not looking back as he leads you deeper into the Underworld. Past the throne room you’re familiar with, past a big iron door with Asphodel Meadows indented into it… to a similar door with Elysium on it. Your eyes widen, stepping back- but Hades’ smoke creates a barrier behind you so you cant get away. It gathers against your back and softly nudge you forward again.
There’s no way- you don’t deserve-
“Uh uh uh… not so fast, babe, you belong here. Look- “ Hades speaks and your wide-eyed attention is immediately on him again, waiting for a good explanation for this. You never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever end up- “I know when our thing ended I was aaa… lets say a little cold. But- I need you to know that wasn’t because I didn’t like you anymore. Babe, damn, you’re still my favourite mortal. And… “The odd, unfamiliar, empathetic look on his face transforms once more to a smirk now. “I heard all the nice things you’ve been sayin’ about me all these years. Remember, I got ears everywhere.”
Oh- well- you’re about to say something, but a smoke tendril wraps itself around your mouth. Hades holds up a finger. “Not just yet. I just wanted to show my gratitude and… “He pushes the door open, which creaks from absolute lack of use over the years, and what’s you see inside is beyond your wildest daydreams. There is absolutely no way he is sending you in there- “Welcome to your final resting place, sweetheart. You like?”
The smoke all over you slips away, then, you’re free. And without thinking, you step towards the doorway.
Its beautiful… and you can’t wait to be there. Is he really sending you there??? Glancing at him, he nods and you look back at Elysium. You take another step, putting your hand gently on the inside doorhandle.
Elysium. You can’t believe it.
“Y/N- “
“Hades,” You finally speak, turning to him before you just go and step inside without saying a word to him. If you did that, you would regret it forever. When he looks back at you, you give a gentle shrug. “I promised, Hades.”
This grin on his face now, is genuine. He loves you- he is always going to love you. This is the reason you couldn’t stay together, because one day you would die and it would be too hard on him. You’re so sorry that the separation changed nothing… but a small, selfish part of you is glad he still loves you too.
… But instead of saying that, making this harder on him, you just give another warm smile, a thank you, and then turn around and walk away.
Inkubus: if you had said something earlier it would have been you
Tumblr media
You are literally looking at him in horror. You didn’t think before this that anyone in real life would truly have the power to horrify you to this degree, but he has done it. Honestly if anyone could, you’re not surprised it was him, but you do wish he would shut up now.
By the time he’s finished your eyes are downcast, you can’t even look at him. He comes back for the first time after a year and… and this!? 5 minutes ago the last thing he said to you was I’m going away for a little while, watch my plants and now its I shouldn’t have left like that. I’m in love with you???
You have no clue how to respond. You want to tell him to leave now, you want to say get fucked, how dare you, you want to slam the door closed so hard the walls shake and crumble, you actually pray for a hole to open up under you and take you away to somewhere where he isn’t looking at you anymore.
“Uhh… “Eyes flickering up towards the porch light to keep your eyes dry, you delicately cross your arms around your stomach and then tighten them there. Then you take a deep breath, and look square at him- you hope he scan see the rage and the hurt in them. You wish it would make him step away, back down, apologise. “So a year ago… when I said to you… if you think you’ll ever want me back then tell me now… were you listening??”
He senses the absolute storm in you but he doesn’t step away, or back down, or apologise. He takes a step forward, reaching out for you. “I always listen to you- “
“Oh-” Fiercely rolling your eyes, you twist away from him and pull your hand up and out of his reach. He always listens to you?? “Because I was asking you that because I needed to know, if I should let go of any dumb hope that the man I wanted would actually ever actually love me back, or if I should wait- because I would’ve waited. I really would’ve… “Looking at him now, you remember that part for definite. You loved him, you wanted him, you would’ve waited… however long, he needed. “Do you remember what you said, Inkubus?? It was important, so you should remember it. You better.”
You watch him and see the very moment the memory flickers through his head; The wince that follows… you almost feel the regret that must burn in his chest. “I said- “The sharp look in your eyes makes him stop. You do not want to hear them again. “I see… “
“Yeah.”
“I don’t suppose I could make it up to you, for that grievous mistake on my part?”
Here was the man you wanted so badly for the past 5 years, finally finally begging for you- actually begging. You know if you only said yes, just closed the door behind you and nodded he would grin at you and your insides would turn to goop, he’d kiss you just the way you imagined - and damn it did you imagine. Which is just wasted time, now, - and he would take it from there. It would be so easy to do. You might even be happy with the decision…
But then you take a deep breath and look away from him. Remember how he left and you had pick up your pieces and do this fucking thing on your own.
So, no. No.
You can’t.
Now your voice has lost all the unrestrained venom from before, all the anger, and you’re just tired and sad. “If you had said something earlier… “ God, it would have been so different… “But no. No. Its too late.”
“Y/N- “
You close the door.
Laughing Jack: i hope you can forgive me one day. i’m sorry i didn’t say goodbye when u left. i love you
Tumblr media
L.J’s POV
“Just send it.” I growl, an almost feral edge to my tone that I cant say I’m fully proud of. “Put. It. In. It’s just a bloody letter Jack. Now!- “
The letter nearly slips into the slot this time, but I see Y/N’s face in my head for a moment, just a moment, and they’re pretty as ever but they’re reading the letter. They’re reading the letter, finishing it, and then setting it aside. They do not respond to me.
The letter swerves and goes over the top, slipping down the backside of the letterbox, instead.
“Aghh!” I’m heaving. This is ridiculous! What!? Why can’t I- “My god.” Dropping to my knees on the ground, I reach underneath the letterbox with one of my long arms and collect the now dusty, dirty letter back again. I sigh. “Of course.”
Slowly getting back up to my feet, I look at the letterbox with a frown on my lips. I have to do this. I have to tell them…
Okay. Taking a deep breath and puffing out my chest, I inwardly pump myself up for this. I think I need to, considering how hard this seems to be. Let’s go Jack, we can do this, we’re very very close. Just one more try. Come on. Here we go-
I accidentally picture Y/N again at exactly the wrong moment. This time it’s a memory; This actually happened. And its horrible.
Before my eyes, seemingly, I see them animatedly explaining why they have to leave to me - because they got an amazing job opportunity, a fact I’m surprised I remember considering I was blocking them out at this point, - , that they’re so very sorry - something I definitely didn’t care to hear at the time, - , and then… inviting me to see them off the next day. Say goodbye properly.
… But the next day came and I didn’t go to see them off… The letter once again mises its target. I saved myself from that unnecessary pain of saying goodbye. Didn’t I?
I’ve been so sure about that, for a while… But not so much, lately. No. Suddenly I regret it. I’m thinking maybe I should have been there, maybe it would have been better. Perhaps I wouldn’t still have this nagging itch in my chest every time I think about them. I wish I would have… been there…
And now I just want to tell them that. They need to know that I’m sorry I didn’t go, or say goodbye to them when they left.
That I hope they forgive me.
I love them.
But I am apparently physically incapable of sending this bloody letter!
Wheezy Weasel: the universe keeps putting us in the same place at the same time and you still refuse to come to me
Tumblr media
Creaaaaaaaaaaaak- “Oh, shoot.”
“Mmm… toldya that floorboards a little loose.” Wheezy mumbles sleepily, cracking his eyes open to see you caught with your boot just pulled on but not laced up yet. He immediately sees what’s happening, and those scary steel eyes narrow at you. Oh, no. You were really hoping to avoid that. “… Goin’ somewhere?”
“I… “ Searching for the words gets you nowhere; There are no words to sufficiently explain yourself in a flattering light. You’re running away- again.
“Its kinda early.”
“Wheezy, I- “ You try again, but he’s already climbing out of bed and fixing his sleeves. Watching him, you wait for the way he’ll shut down and let you go like he always does. It hurts, but you’re used to it. And you’re sure it hurts him when he sees that you’re leaving, so… you’re even. You owe it to him to stay and see the moment he gives up on whatever’s between the two of you every time.
“No.” Is all he says, and you’re a little surprised. No?? What does no mean??? You open your mouth to ask, concerned, but he says it again; Head still down and eyes not on you as he finished rolling up his sleeves. “No.”
“No??”
He lifts his eyes to see you again and you’re struck with the utter intensity of them. “No, yer not leavin’ again.”
Jaw dropping, you look around- searching inside yourself for the words again- this time to say yes, you are. You have to, this isn’t good for either one of you. Sorry. “… Actually- “
“Y/N,” Suddenly he’s in front of you and his hand’s on your face and his eyes are soft on you now and god- you could give up right there. He is such kryptonite to you, its unbelievable. “Just stay this time, huh? Just fer breakfast- its Greasy’s day, so you don’t haveta worry about anything. And it might actually taste good, considering the boss aint cookin’.”
“I can’t stay for breakfast… “
“Why’s that?”
“You know why!”
Eyes going cold again like a switch, Wheezy gives a frustrated sigh in front of you and closes his eyes; Letting his hand fall down to your shoulder, instead. “… why can’t you believe this could work?”
What kind of question is that? Exasperated and desperate to just leave, you step away from him, edging towards the door. “Because it never does!- “
He looks at you again and he looks so damn frustrated, throwing his arm out for emphasis. It’s surprising, he’s usually so cool. “ - Because you always run away! What are you scared of, Y/N??” He comes in close to you again and you feel like a bowl of soup- “The universe keeps putting us together over and over again- and you still refuse to come to me.” His voice is quiet, and soft as it can be after years of chain smoking, and it’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you… in a crappy low-rent apartment downtown smelling faintly of pee, no less. “… Why’s that??”
You have no idea what to say to second part, so you elect to ignore it. Its easier. “… I’m not scared- “
“Really?? You coulda fooled me.”
“Wheezy, I-… This is dangerous, for me.” You can feel the pressure building up, hear the blood pumping in your ears. You have not wanted to admit this part, you have wanted to keep it buried so as to not hurt him but it’s about to come out and you can’t stop it. “This stuff that you do for Smartass, and the judge… I can’t be mixed up in all that! I could get hurt. And… I can’t-… I can’t… “
“… y’cant put yourself in that situation for a guy.” He realises slowly, on his own. And it’s a small relief… though really, really small.
You want to tell him it’s not true, that he is so worth it because truly, honestly, he is and you love him… but… “Yeah,” You let out, more as breath then an actual admission. But he hears it.
And he understands, too. He nods and actually looks like he understands you. Which just makes it worse for you! He’s fucking perfect, what the hell!? “I get that… “
“Thank you… “
… When it’s clear that Wheezy isn’t going to stop you this time, you sit down on the edge of the bed and silently do up your boot laces. Wheezy carefully sits down next to you, reaching to get your jacket for you and hold it silently while you finish your boots. When you do finish, you turn to him and he hands it to you, forcing a small smile.
For a moment more you just sit there, wondering how you could possibly say goodbye to him. Really, say goodbye. Because you don’t think… you’re ever going to do this again. Not after this. Its over.
You can feel your heart breaking as you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Wheezy.”
“Love ya, baby.”
“Oh I love you too.” You sigh out, pausing only a moment more to let it sink in, then take a deep breath and leave the room.
184 notes · View notes
stumacherstan · 2 years
Note
Hey um, first time asking for a request but du u think you could do a Slasher short story, of Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair and any other Slasher you want, being married and They Child. (Your choice of gender) being sick to where they keep throwing up Blood and one day, They're Child asks The Slasher. "Daddy? If I die, will you miss Me?"
How will they react to that? I mean I have a friend like that and He died awhile ago and I thought this would be a good memory seeing how He loved Horror movies and your picture is Stu Macher and He did meet Matthew Lillard, before He died and I thought this would be good.
a/n: oh man anon, im sorry for your loss anon. thank you for coming to me with this request. i hope i do it justice <3 i hope you’re happier now and healing well.
Stu Macher x ill!Kid x Reader
Stu is freaking the fuck out on every doctor. This man has taken lives and never gave one fuck. In fact, still doesn’t give one. Seeing his kid be in pain and the doctors can’t do much, it makes his murderous rage coming back. Stu holds your hand tightly as he sits besides his kiddo. His light. The beautiful life he created with you. His kid can’t die.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah baby?” His throat feels right seeing his kid cough more blood. He feels tears well up feeling you let go of his hand to clean it up. He feels so hopeless.
“If I die, will you miss me?” The kids blue/(your eye color) look up at him. Their cleaned mouth is held into a little frown.
“Don’t say that,” you gasp out.
“Kiddo, I’ll feel dead without you. I’ll miss you so much. But don’t say that. Daddy’s got the best doctors in the state for you.” Stu was telling the truth. Every word of it.
Billy Loomis x ill!Kid x Reader
Billy has horror written in his eyes when he sees his sweet little baby cough up blood. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” He is yelling your name over and over as he picks up his child.
You rush over in panic. Billy doesn’t yell like this. Billy doesn’t lose his cool. You grab the keys instantly when you see the blood on your child and Billy. You guys do a switcheroo and suddenly he’s driving and you’re holding the kiddo.
“Daddy? Mommy?”
“It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to the hospital and we’ll figure this out,” you cry out softly. This hasn’t happened before. Why now?
“If I die, will you two miss me?” The little hoarse voice says.
Billy wants to be harsh and say shut the fuck up, they’re not going to die. They’re going to live and you guys are all gonna watch a movie together soon. Billy knows everyone is scared. “I’ll miss you more than anything.” He breathes heavily as he speeds up, feeling like those words are an omen. “Your uncle Stu is gonna get you the best doctors and you’re going to be okay.”
Bo Sinclair x ill!Kid x Reader:
You run over to Bo with tears in your eyes and your sweet little kid in your arms. “(Y/N) what’s wrong?” He spots the blood and tenses up. “(Y/N) who’s god damn blood is that?”
“i-it’s theirs. and i-i-i don’t know what’s w-wrong.” You sob.
Your child feeling scared and confused. “Daddy? Am I going to die?” Their big ole bug eyes as Bo likes to call them look up him.
“No.” Bo quickly takes you both into the truck and started driving. He’s cursing himself in the head for living in this forsaken fake town right now. How bad is the condition? Can it be fixed? Can the doctors do anything? His hands were gripping the wheel as you tried to calm yourself down. He couldn’t do anything. What kind of fucking father and husband is he.
“If I die, will mommy and daddy miss me?”
“pl-please don’t say that. of course we’ll miss you.” You hug your baby tighter and your tears haven’t stopped since.
Bo speeds up. “If you die, we die together. Daddy and mommy would miss you that much.”
187 notes · View notes
calmcoldevening · 1 year
Text
Your relationships with boys (slashers x reader)
Tumblr media
Michael Myers
♡ This guy looks like a big black cat. He does whatever he wants; he acts according to the first dictate of emotions, therefore, if he wants something, he will achieve it, no matter how unrealistic the goals may be and no matter how difficult the fulfillment of these desires may be.
♡ At first, he does not like your affection much, or rather, he simply does not understand it because of his understated empathy (if he has it at all). Later, he begins to realize that you treat him in a special way: you cook food, let him sleep with you, bathe, if necessary, treat his wounds - therefore, over time, he begins to show you some timid actions.
♡ He often does what the voices in his head chant to him, so if he wants to touch you anywhere, he will do it; it's better not to resist if you don't want new bruises on your neck and wrists.
♡ This boy is crazy about sweets, especially chocolate. You should replenish your stocks of goodies at least once every three days, otherwise Michael will start behaving like an unsatisfied teenager.
♡ Please feed him at least twice a day (breakfast and dinner will be enough), we don't want the story of eating other people's dogs to repeat, right? And, oh my God, he eats like as many as seven healthy men, which is most likely due to his huge size. If earlier you could easily cook spaghetti and eat it for two or three days in a row, now one such pan flew away in one evening.
♡ And yet, no matter how hard Myers tries to deny it, he is pleased with your presence. When he is in the same room with you, the air is noticeably discharged, it becomes lighter and somehow softer; Michael begins to breathe more calmly under his dirty white latex.
♡ The guy has a very high pain threshold, so you shouldn't be surprised when he appears on your doorstep covered in blood, and under a blue jumpsuit you will find several stab wounds or bullet marks; he doesn't take much care of himself.
♡ Did you have a pet? Forget about him. As soon as Michael sees any cat or bird in your house, he will certainly get rid of it; the guy is extremely selfish, he does not want to share your care with someone else.
♡ Michael is the owner. Did you go to the store and someone gave you a lingering "Kitty-kitty" or hit you on the ass? Expect Michael to come home three times more drenched in blood. This scoundrel got what he deserved; even in his coffin, he will remember with fear the day he was born.
♡ He likes it when you wash his hair or just mess with it when he appears in front of you without a mask; Mike fucking likes it when you massage his scalp, especially considering the migraines from constant voices.
♡ His mom (or rather, her ghost) speaks well of you and sometimes tells her son how to behave in a particular situation, so you have a better chance of avoiding awkward moments.
♡ A massage before going to bed, if he sleeps at all, would be very useful; his shoulders are too tense after years in Smiths Grove and frequent murders.
♡ Only from your mouth "Mikey", oh, this affectionate nickname, sounds acceptable to him; Myers feels a strange calmness and warmth in his heart.
♡ He likes your style of music; the last time he heard you turn it on on your phone was when you were cooking dinner late at night, thinking Michael wasn't around.
♡ Sometimes he brings you some nice things; his mom says that girls like it when they are given gifts.
♡ You are constantly, well, or almost constantly, being watched, that's a fact.
Tumblr media
Bo Sinclairr
♡ A walking time bomb.
♡ Because of his frequent mood swings, you don't know what to expect from a guy, so be prepared for anything.
♡ Bo loves cookies made by your hands very much, it reminds him of the time when mom was still alive and in her right mind.
♡ No matter how it sounds, he likes it when you're in his clothes; big hanging T-shirts on your innocent body attract his animal gaze.
♡ His clothes are your clothes.
♡ Bo is pleased at the thought that you like to help him at the gas station; lately you have become quite familiar with tools and have learned something about the design of cars.
♡ You often have to stop the verbal sparring bordering on fists that arise between the Sinclair twins; Vincent is very grateful to you for this, he does not like to quarrel with his brother.
♡ If he feels bad, he will just pick you up in his arms (whatever you do, he will just pick you up from that place, whether it's cleaning, drawing or cooking soup) and take you to your shared bedroom; he will sit down and put you on his lap, burying his nose in your shoulder or hair; he can sit like this from five minutes to several hours (he will let you go, for example, if you start jumping out of his arms, feeling the burnt smell from the first floor).
♡ And yet, no matter how stubborn and uncontrollable he is, he tries to be gentle towards you. You don't know, but he often watched couples coming to Ambrose and watched for a long time how this or that guy treated his girlfriend. The behavior has always been different, strange in its own way, but Bo realized that mostly guys hug their partners, kiss them and give gifts. He tries to imitate them, at least in the manifestation of physical contact; he also tries in every possible way to cheer you up during sad periods (for example, during menstruation; these days he is especially attentive to you and every changed spectrum of your mood; sweets? no question; hugs? will it be done; hold it on your hands like a little princess girl? everything for you, honey, just don't cry)
Tumblr media
Thomas Hewitt
♡ At first, he really didn't know how to behave. Your relationship was strange: he is a huge maniac with a chainsaw, and you are a victim who somehow magically liked this big guy. At the very beginning, it was fulfilling your basic needs: food, security, sleep. Gradually, when you got a little used to his oppressive aura, he allowed himself to touch you: shoulder, hair, neck — it doesn't matter, just ordinary physical contact!
♡ He likes your cheeks so much. Especially when you blush and start muttering something resentfully under your nose to hide your embarrassment. He finds it extremely charming.
♡ One of the difficulties was that Tommy didn't talk much, if at all. That's why you started communicating with your own sign language. Need to bring something? You are playing a kind of pantomime. A monosyllabic answer? You stretch out your hands in front of him and give each of them a simple answer (yes/no, at home/on the street, etc.) and Thomas chooses left or right, it turned out to be very convenient. Sometimes it even happened that he took your small palm with his huge one and began to write something similar to letters on it with his finger; they were uneven; he often wrote words by ear, but this did not prevent you from understanding him.
♡ His mom didn't approve of your relationship (at the beginning). In her opinion, you were too strange, slow and timid; it would be difficult for you to live in this house. But gradually she got used to your company and even fell in love with you, damn it! You became her daughter-in-law. "My Tommy is a good boy; don't hurt him like the kids at school; take care of him."
♡ With uncles, everything turned out to be scarier, they were terrible perverts. That's why Tommy tried to be there for you all the time and protect you (a knight with a chainsaw, cool).
♡ As for the mask: he blushed terribly when you asked if he could take it off, started pulling the edge of his apron or abruptly went into the basement. After a while, he finally took it off and was surprised when you kissed every inch of his skin.
♡ The guy really likes to spend time with you. I especially like to leave the house in the evenings and lie down with you on the prickly grass a little away from the house so that neither Hoyt nor Monty can hear you. You lie with your hands tightly clasped in a lock and fingers interlaced; the grass scratches the exposed parts of your body, which sometimes makes you squirm, rubbing the earth into one of the most worn T-shirts; you look at the blue sky with pale pink sunset stripes, watching the white-sided moon light up in the distance. Thomas could start to wheeze softly, which meant his laughter when you told one of the funny stories of your childhood. Just always wait for him before the next walk; we don't want your ankle to get caught in one of the massive bear traps, right?
♡ Sweetheart, he loves you so much!
♡ Thomas loves your soft palms with slightly cracked fingertips from the heat and drought! Your hands smell of soap, with which you constantly wash dishes in the kitchen, as well as grass and cinnamon after recently cooking some simple cakes. He's never eaten anything tastier in his life! (in truth, even old Hoyt appreciated them: "Not bad for such a city girl," although you saw that he continued to stare at your ass).
♡ He likes it when you lie on his chest. He starts purring with pleasure. You can hear his measured beating, leaning your ear against his chest; now he is without an apron, in only a loose shirt and loose trousers, which you instructed him to put on before going to bed if he wants to sleep with you in an embrace. Thanks to your presence, Thomas has begun to sleep better.
Tumblr media
I just drank my tea and thought about these sweet boys. Well they're so cute and pretty so i like to write about them. And have a nice day <3
1K notes · View notes
writing-good-vibes · 2 years
Text
misc. summer prompts (ft. bo and vincent)
ahhh another season has come and gone and i have very much enjoyed writing for you all again !! polaroids my beloved, how oftn you cropped up 📷 but to say goodbye to the summer, here are a few extra drabbles of my choice with my favourite, terrible twins.
bo (summer reading)
bo liked to read. a lot. and as the sun shone down, as fierce as ever on the Louisiana backwoods, bo hid away, like he always wanted to.
he's lay on the couch, thin curtains drawn to keep the heat at bay, and a dripping can of dr pepper on the coffee table. the book he's reading is second hand, something vincent picked up for him years ago from some yard sale in the city that he never got around to reading, with a cracked spine and already-dog-eared pages.
he flips a page absently, eyes quickly scanning the page before folding it back.
you're in the kitchen, making lunch. the room glows golden with sunlight as you finish up, cutting bo's sandwiches into quarters. you cut your own into halves.
making your way back into the family room, both plates in hand, bo is just turning another page.
"what are you reading?" you ask, placing his lunch down on the coffee table. you nudge his legs and he makes room for you to sit down.
his eyes don't leave the page. "stranger in a strange land," he drawls, turning another page.
you chuckle, "so much for 'light summer reading'." the book is long. longer than anything you've read, and bo's already a quarter of the way through.
"i been meanin' to get 'round to it," he half-mutters. "and there's no time like the present."
"i suppose," you shrug, taking a bite of your own sandwich. "maybe i should start on a book too."
"you could," bo agrees. he sits up to put his own book down, open on the coffee table. he picks up his plate, leaning back to balance it on his stomach while he eats. "i got plenty o' books lyin' around, sure you could find one you wanna read."
vincent (shade)
vincent was used to staying in the shade. or, more accurately, staying in the shadows. it was where he did his best work, after all, and where he felt safest. hidden away from the world with his talents the only part of him visible, displayed in the crumbling House of Wax.
it's a hot day, like most louisiana days are. on the worst days, vincent waited until the evening, when it was about as cool as it was going to get, to go down to the workshop, working even later into the night than he usually did.
this left you with long, hazy days with nothing much to do. bo was often busy, even during the scorching midday hours, or was happy enough to entertain himself with whichever book he was reading that week or in front of the tv with several macgyver reruns to keep him going. either way, you got vincent all to yourself.
even with the heat, vincent liked sleeping in. once more in shadow, with the curtains drawn and an arm slung over his face to block out the dregs of light. this you didn't mind, with a threadbare sheet slung low on both your hips and the prickle of sweat on your back making it easy to snooze way into the afternoon. his snores rumbled gently in his chest, right beneath your ear.
but then you liked to get your own way. dragging vincent into the sun if it was the last thing you did. usually he agreed, having no reason to deny you. he'd let you lead him out, one hand in his and a pitcher of lemonade in the other.
you slather is fairest skin with sunscreen and watch as his muscles flex beneath your fingers.
"you could do with getting some sun," you murmur.
"i like it in the shade; you bring enough sunshine for me."
74 notes · View notes
7sadic-writter7 · 2 years
Text
¡Vamos hombre! ¿Podrías ser más obvio?
Pequeño Drabble con Lester siendo atormentado por Bo y reader. ¿Donde está Vincent cuando se le necesita? Probablemente disfrutando de no tener que escuchar a Bo hablar de lo mucho que lo enciendes.
Tumblr media
Lester estaba malhumorado, por primera vez en mucho tiempo se encontraba fastidiado por algo y no hallaba una solución simple para su problema porque, en resumidas cuentas, no podía arrojarte a la fosa de cadáveres de animal en la que de una u otra forma acababan los restos de turistas que no eran adecuados para convertirse en estatuas hiperrealistas de cera. Ya llevabas un tiempo viviendo en su casa, aún no era lo suficiente como para que te dejará pasear por los alrededores sin su presencia, pero no me necesitaba atarte a nada o encerrarte en un cuarto por las noches.
Eras tranquila y a sus ojos no te veías molesta por el giro de tuerca que había recibido toda tu vida, le caías bien y hablar contigo era mucho más divertido que asustar a futuras víctimas antes de dejarlas a su suerte en el patio de juegos de los gemelos. Sin embargo, no todo era color de rosas para el menor de los Sinclairs, eras demasiado buena para cualquiera incluso si no había un historial sangriento que arrastrar y ahí se encontraba Bo visitando el hogar de su hermanito (dónde habían decidido esconderte en una votación que terminó 2 a 1) para verte solo a ti. El hombre realmente no tenía que decirlo, Lester lo estaba viendo delante suyo: Bo flotaba alrededor de ti mientras te divertías armando un viejo rompecabezas de mil piezas que habías comenzado hacía unos días.
Al principio Lester no pensó en nada ni siquiera parecido a un enamoramiento por parte de su hermano mayor hacia ti, pero luego de las semanas los engranajes dentro de su oxidada cabeza comenzaron a funcionar, primero venía a pasar unas horas los lunes y martes (sus días de descanso dado a qué pocas personas viajaban por la carretera), luego pasó a venir cada mañana para "checar que no escaparas", entonces Lester notó que el semblante de Bo cambió con sus visitas; aquella irá y lengua filosa que tanto lo caracterizaba se retraía a tu alrededor y la tensión del aire que giraba entorno al hombre pareció casi inexistente, poco a poco el hombre que se ganaba la vida recogiendo cadáveres entendió que había cosas que el mayor de los Sinclairs no podía enmascarar con sus dotes actorales de los que tanto hacía alarde.
Estaba enamorado y eso se apreciaba en sus ojos, en los toques que daba a tus manos en busca de una pieza en común, en la forma suave y melódica en que te hablaba, incluso en la manera en que caminaba cuando tú estabas en la habitación. No buscaba ser imponente o un cretino sin filtro, quería mantenerte calmada y segura a su alrededor, y el muy maldito lo consiguió ¡Vaya que si! Y eso solo molestaba a Lester, porque el muy idiota parecía tan enfrascado en su conquista silenciosa que no notó que la primera persona en la puerta para recibirlo eras tú, que tú insistías en pasear a su lado más veces que con tu "guardián" y que cada vez que se retiraba para regresar a Ambrose no parabas de suspirar. Era tan malditamente frustrante para el único espectador de su pequeño show que varias veces Lester se preguntó a sí mismo si lo mejor sería decirte sobre los obvios sentimientos de Bo o viceversa. Pero eso no sería justo para nadie, por lo que el menor de los Sinclairs tendría que quedarse sentado en su sillón con Jonesy acostada sobre sus zapatos atestiguando como aquello dos tortillas parecían ciegos de amor.
12 notes · View notes