#slasher comfort

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

The Day Off

Commission: Brahms (The Boy) x NB!Reader- Reader has a nightmare and Brahms gives them a day off from being the caretaker of the household. 

Notes/Warnings: No warnings here. Just 4.5k words of Brahms being the best boy.

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It happened on the rare occasion Brahms wasn’t directly nearby. Hidden in the walls, you never knew where he was at any given point. Unless he would let you know with a knock or soft call of his voice.

The mansion was as quiet as a graveyard. The occasional creak or groan would whisper into the night, but the sounds that once creeped you out, were more like a comfort now. Even the dark rooms and seemingly endless hallways, had started to feel like home.

But this time, when you woke up, sweating and shaking; tears rolling down your face and your chest feeling too tight to draw breath; the mansion terrified you.

The void that surrounded you mocked your wide eyes. Invisible figures drew near before dancing back into the corners and behind furniture. Making your trembling breaths whimper as you try to calm yourself down.

“Brahms…” You tried to call out but your voice cracked like something was choking you.

Then the estate exploded with noise. It sounded like a rhino crashing through the walls of the sleeping mansion.

Had your whimpers turned to cries as the anxiety turned to fear during your sleep? Then from fear, to terror as your dreams twisted and roiled with grasping hands and cruel laughter. Drawing the attention of your charge as you woke up with a scream.

You couldn’t see him. But the door slamming open with a loud bang against the wall told you he had burst into the room.

In your curled up position, blankets askew and eyes puffed up from crying, Brahms’ hands were on you immediately. Grunts of concern echoing from under the mask as he searched for an injury.

You grabbed his hand and held it.

You felt Brahms pause as you sniffled and took a deep shaky breath. His fingers then slowly curled around your palm and he sat beside you on the bed. His other hand reached through the dark to push back a strand of damp hair from your face.

The warmth of his fingers resting on your cheek chased away the remnants of the nightmare. And you felt like a child, but you clung to his hand like a teddy bear. Using him as an anchor while you desperately tried to even out your breaths.

“Nightmare?” Brahms soft voice asked. And you nodded, searching for him in the dark.

“S-Sorry for waking you…” Your voice still had a small tremble to it.

Brahms didn’t reply. But you felt his weight shift on the bed and then the lamp by your head flared to life with a small click. The shadows scattered and the looming figures became simple coats on hangers or pieces of clothing folded over the back of a chair.

The porcelain mask came into view and Brahms' dark eyes gleamed behind it. They looked you over, swimming over your puffy face and tired eyes. Before his head tilted and you felt his hand squeeze yours.

“Tea.” He said, tugging you into a sitting position before then dragging you out of bed and out of the room.

You sluggishly followed behind him. Hand still grasping his as you blindly followed the sound of Brahms' soft footsteps through the mansion. The chilled floor bit at your feet and there was a breeze flowing through the halls that was rather cold.

When you knew you were coming up to the stairs, you slowed. And you heard Brahms grunt his displeasure at the sudden stop.

“I can’t see where I’m going, Brahms.” You said to the large shape in front of you. The moon was full and rays of silver trickled in through the windows. But it wasn’t enough to fully illuminate the tall man in front of you. It only gave his wide shoulders and bed of curly hair a dark shape.

There was no warning or sound of movement from him, but Brahms’ hand fell from yours. Leaving you alone in the dark for just a second, before you felt two strong arms wrap around you. You felt your feet leave the ground and you were suddenly being carried downstairs.

A cry of surprise left your lips, but Brahms ignored it.

It felt very awkward like this. But after a moment you realized Brahms’ was carrying you just how you carried his doll around. With an arm bracing the back of your legs and another wrapped around your shoulder, a hand gently cradling the back of your head as you were carried downstairs.

The shock and embarrassment of this moment shattered any remaining fear from your chest. And you let your arms fall comfortably over his shoulders. And just for a second, you allowed this closeness to calm you.

The whispering echoes of Brahms’ breath under the mask. His warm skin against yours and the gentle musk of the dusty walls on his clothes all filled your senses.

It was enough to almost make you forget about your nightmare.

Then Brahms reached the bottom of the stairs and gently placed you back on your feet. His large hand took yours again and continued his tugging towards the kitchen.

The lights were only turned on when you felt the wooden floors turn to tiles. And Brahms was nice enough to cross the room and flick the switch so you could finally see your surroundings.

“Ok, what type of tea do you want?” You asked. Letting Brahms’ hand fall from yours as you went to the kettle. “Do you want some honey or- hey, Brahms!”

Hands wrapped around your waist and non-to gently you were pulled away from the kitchen counter and then lifted onto the kitchen island.

Brahms placed your hands in your lap and pushed them down in a way that said “stay”. His gaze was steely and the tilt to his mask bordered frustration.

“I thought you wanted tea.” You said in confusion. But you didn’t move from your spot. Only watched as he popped the kettle to boil and started to make two mugs of tea. He added a small portion of honey and then the tea bags.

Biscuits were laid out on a plate, more than what you would usually present when giving Brahms his morning tea snack. But you kept quiet. And noticed that there were more of the biscuits you enjoyed than the ones Brahms usually wanted.

Once the tea was poured and the bags soaked for a small time, Brahms mimicked how you made your tea and then brought it over to you.

The plate of biscuits was placed beside you and the cup was carefully placed into your hands. Warming them up immediately as Brahms looked at you expectantly.

“Thank you.” You said and received a curt nod from Brahms as he nursed his own cup of tea in his hands.

The sweet warm drink helped soothe the anxiety that was still fluttering in your stomach. The memory of your nightmare was on the edge of your mind. Barely visible, but still mocking you as you tried to distract yourself with your drink.

You barely touched the biscuits. Which wasn’t missed from Brahms. He had already eaten three. Dipping them into this tea and tilting his mask back enough that he could place the soggy treat into his mouth.

He picked up one of your preferred biscuits and dipped it into your tea.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Brahms offered the biscuit to you. “Brahms, I’m really not hungry.”

The grunt of annoyance and the narrowed gaze had once made you nervous. But now, you rolled your eyes at the stubbornness of this man, and opened your mouth. Brahms plopped the biscuit in between your teeth and you ate the treat while trying not to laugh at the embarrassment of this moment.

It wasn’t missed on you what Brahms was doing. When Brahms was particularly upset, you would do this as well.

Not hand feed him. But offer him treats and warm drinks. Something he usually liked to take his mind off whatever was upsetting him.

You had nursed one or two bad dreams with him. Coaxing him to breath and hold his hand, brushing your fingers over his curls as he came down from the terror.

But this was the first nightmare you’ve had in a long time. And you could tell Brahms was a little lost on what to do.

“I appreciate this, Brahms.” You said as the masked man picked up another biscuit. But this time you did take it from his fingers and dip it into the tea. “I’m truly sorry for waking you.”

Brahms shook his head, and the soft whisper of his voice echoed behind the mask. “What was it about?”

The nightmare hadn’t entirely been one thing. But as you tried to bring the memory of it forward, it slipped your grasp and disappeared. You remembered shapes and mocking laughter. But nothing else.

However, even thinking of the remnants of the dream brought back an unease in your chest.

“I don’t remember.” You sighed. Taking a bite of the biscuit in your hand. “It was just...bad.”

Surprisingly, Brahms didn’t push the subject. Which was strange. Because whenever something upset you, on the rare occasion your voice raised or something angered you; Brahms wanted to know every detail. Or he would skulk away and hide until your anger ceased.

But instead Brahms let the subject fall and the two of you finished your tea in comfortable silence.

After the warm drinks and biscuits, your body longed to lay back down. But your mind was discouraged to do so with the worry of another nightmare.

It was possibly 1am and you could tell Brahms was starting to drift off while standing up.

You wouldn’t sleep well tonight, but you at least wanted Brahms to get more sleep before the sun started to come up.

“Come on, let's get you back to bed.” You said to Brahms, who wearily nodded in reply.

But instead of you leading him back through the house, Brahms took it upon himself again to take your hand and guide you through the dark. When you reached the stairs, you tried to argue with Brahms. But there were no words that could dissuade him from carrying you like he did before.

You still couldn’t see but you had more confidence going up the stairs than going down them in the dark. You were certain you’d probably only trip once, if at all. But Brahms was having none of it.

Once your feet were back on the floor, Brahms took your hand again and began dragging you towards the rooms.

But he didn’t continue on towards his room. He instead went straight for yours and even closed the door behind the both of you.

You barely got a breath in to argue when Brahms continued on to the bed and arranged the pillows for an obvious two person set up. Then he looked at you and pointed at the bed.

You hesitated. Staring at the silhouette that was Brahms as you heard him grunt impatiently.

“Don’t you want me to tuck you in your bed first?” You asked. Absolutely confused at what was happening.

You heard a heavy sigh from Brahms and suddenly his hand was on your wrist and you were half thrown onto the bed.

You got the picture. And laid down on the far side of the bed, wriggling under the blankets and tucking them under your chin.

You heard Brahms moving around your room. Perhaps going into the walls to return to his bedroom or to sit nearby and watch over you.

However, you heard the distinct noise of metal being placed on your wooden bedside table and then light sparked to life in Brahms hand. His mask lit up with the orange light, dark eyes twinkling as he carefully pressed the small flame to the wick of a candle.

The room was brightened by the soft orange light of the candle. Allowing you to see the majority of the room, chasing away the shadows into the furthest corners of the large room.

Then you watched, stunned, as the bed dipped beside you and Brahms’ warm skin brushed against yours as he threw the blanket over his body.

There was a moment of shocked silence as Brahms, not only climbed into your bed, but also tucked himself in.

There had never been a night where you didn’t do the routine of tucking him in and giving his mask a small peck of a kiss.

But instead, Brahms was throwing his routine out the window to be beside you. And as much as you were relieved to not spend the rest of the night alone. You could feel the tension in Brahms’ body. This was probably killing him, not following the routine he’s had laid out and done for years.

You weren’t even sure what to do. You’ve stayed with Brahms a few times until he’s gone to sleep. Some of his nightmares refused him rest until he had you beside him. Either sitting on the bed or beside it, reading a book or playing some music till he fell back asleep.

Again, you realized that Brahms was mimicking you in his own way. Copying your techniques when he was frightened or unable to sleep.

And it made you smile with the endearing thought.

You rolled onto your side, facing towards Brahms. And you felt his arm twitch a little away from you as you reached out to him. His mask was facing towards the ceiling but you glimpsed his eyes darting towards you beneath the shadows of his mask.

“Brahms, if this is uncomfortable for you, you don’t need to stay. I’ll be ok.” You tried to reassure him. But you only got a grunted reply instead. It was a stubborn noise, one that usually came with him doing whatever he wanted.

So, you didn’t bother trying to argue. Instead, you let your eyes fall close and try to settle your racing mind.

The minutes stretched into hours. Brahms had fallen asleep after some time but your mind was still darting around like a hornets nest.

Sleep wasn’t coming to you. Not yet.

The candle was getting low and the wax dripped onto the wide base. The shadows still danced around your bed but with Brahms’ presence and warmth, they weren’t as haunting as before.

You sighed and tried once more to close your eyes and hope sleep would embrace you. But then your eyes flew open again as Brahms started to move.

He rolled towards you, his arms snaking along the mattress towards you until they found your waist. And with a gentle tug, you were pulled against his chest. You didn’t hear him speak or make some sort of noise, and his breathing stayed perfectly even as his fingers brushed along your spine.

The gentle scent of soap and dust was a strange mixture in your nose. He still had that lavender scent from his bath last night, but being in the walls always eliminated that clean fragrance almost immediately.

It was strange. You never really took notice of how muscular he was, until now.

“Brahms..?” You softly called out.

There was no response. But he shifted just enough that the chin of his mask knocked against your head. Not painfully, but you could feel his warm breath slipping out the sides of the mask.

The weight of his arms plus the added heat from his chest, your mind actually started to slow. You put it down to maybe the shock of this happening was pulling your thoughts out of their anxiety ridden mess.

But the way Brahms’ hand was pressed against your lower back and his arm had slipped under your neck, cradling your shoulders so you were nestled under his chin. It was all very…intimate.

Even if you tried, there was no escaping his hold. When you tilted your chin up to look at him, his arms tightened. Restricting your movement even more. But you stretched your neck and pressed a delicate kiss against the edge of his mask, despite the strong resistance of Brahms arms trying to keep you firmly pressed against him.

You then settled into your new cocooned spot and let your eyes close. And when you opened them again, your bed was empty and the candle had been blown out. The curtains were still closed. But the gentle breeze from the opened window allowed some morning rays to trickle over your eyes. Waking you from a groggy slumber.

You sighed heavily and allowed yourself a moment more to rest as you pulled the blanket over your head.

The following waft of lavender and dust made your chest flutter. And the foggy memory of last night came flooding back, banishing your very tired thoughts.

You couldn’t tell what time it was. But it was late morning at least and that meant you had missed breakfast and the morning routines on Brahms’ schedule.

Cursing softly, you threw back the blankets and hurried out of bed. But a noise from somewhere in the walls made you freeze and Brahms appeared from a hidden door beside the closet. Emerging from the shadows like a beast out of your nightmares. Before straightening and gesturing for you to sit down.

“I made breakfast.” You heard Brahms say. And you were surprised to see a silver tray of food waiting on your dresser. A pot of tea had been brewed and was still steaming as he poured you a cup. And the food had cooled while sitting on the plate but still was surprisingly well made.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, Brahms.” You said with a smile as Brahms placed the tea in your hands and then moved the plate of food to the bedside table. But you thanked him and took a long sip of the warm tea to help with your groggy state. It was sweet, maybe a touch too sweet. But still enjoyable. You then took a bite out of the food and looked up at Brahms.

Who was standing a little awkwardly to the side, watching you expectantly.

You quickly realized what he was doing and smiled up at him. “The food is really good Brahms. Have you eaten yet?”

His tense shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “I cooked my own breakfast while you slept. I may have burnt a few eggs before getting yours perfect, though.”

You chuckled. Imagining Brahms at the stove getting frustrated while he tried to mimic the way you perfected the eggs. Brahms had a very particular way he liked his breakfast made. You once tried to get him to do the same style, while you waited patiently on the side. Giving him small tips.

It had taken some time, but eventually, Brahms learnt how to cook eggs the way he liked. In the case you were sick or couldn’t do it yourself.

Brahms was capable of doing it.

Which showed now on your plate. And he even added a smiley-face drawn onto the eggs with your favorite sauce. Which was an adorable touch.

“I could have cooked though, Brahms.” You said with a gentle smile. “You only needed to wake me up.”

“You needed rest.” Brahms said. In a way that sounded like he was confused by your words. And his own reply was matter-of-factly. “Did you have the nightmare again?”

You shook your head. Eating another mouthful of food before responding. “No. I think with you nearby it settled whatever bad images my brain was making.” You tried to look up at him. So your next words felt more genuine.

But meeting those dark eyes when your cheeks felt like they were flaming, was a harder task than you expected.

“Thank you for staying with me.” You said, using your downward gaze to pick up the tea again and take a sip. “I really appreciate you breaking your schedule for me. I’ll try to make it up to you today. Maybe we can-”

Brahms then shook your head. A grunt of disapproval echoing out from under his mask.

He then joined you on the bed. Sitting just an inch away from you as he watched you eat another bite from your food.

“You’ll…take the day off.” Brahms said. And it sounded like it was the hardest thing he ever had to say.

You almost dropped your food. Your eyes widened as you gawked at him. “What? Brahms, I’m ok. Really.”

Brahms shook his head. Grunting at you to eat yet another bite. Which you did.

“I was thinking about something last night.” Brahms continued. “Whenever I have a nightmare, or I’m sick, you make me take a day off from my routine. And then I couldn’t remember when you last had a day off…and I felt bad. So, I want you to take the day off. To rest and…do what you want to do.”

You had to be dreaming, right?

Your Brahms was telling you to take a day off from his routine. You weren’t even sick or injured. And yet, here he was. Making you breakfast and telling you to rest.

You smiled up at Brahms. Setting your plate aside so you could take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

“I appreciate it, Brahms. But I’m ok. It was just a nightmare. And the sleep-in I just got helped a lot. So, you don’t need to worry about me.”

There was a stubbornness in Brahm’s eyes that made you tense. Readying yourself for a tantrum. At least an argument that would sour his mood for the rest of the day.

But instead, Brahms took a breath and his shoulders relaxed. He then nodded. “Fine. But eat the rest of your food and drink your tea.”

You laughed at how stern he sounded.

Like a mother scolding their child.

You finished your breakfast and tea. Chatting to Brahms as he fidgeted on the bed beside you. Usually by now it was piano lessons. But you had to cut that section of your day in half and get onto cleaning the house.

Brahms however had other plans for you.

He made you another cup of tea and when you sat down to enjoy a moment of the beverage, Brahms laid a blanket over your legs and seemingly thought he had trapped you there. By being too comfortable to move or because you then had to awkwardly remove the blanket and safely place down your tea before spilling it.

You rolled your eyes and couldn’t help but laugh as his eyes glittered victoriously under his mask.

“Brahms,” You gently scolded. “I have a lot to do today. It’s cleaning day, remember?”

Brahms shook his head. Pointing down at the tea in your hands. “That’s all you need to do today. Rest. I’ll take care of…cleaning.”

You sighed and slumped back in the chair. There were certain things you didn’t fight with Brahms on. Dessert after dinner was one of those topics.

Another was when the same look in his eyes fixed you into the center of his attention.

When he got that dark look in his eyes, you knew it would be like yelling at a brick wall. So, you gave up before you even started.

“Alright. But remember! The kitchen bins need to be emptied, they’re starting to smell. And the library should be your priority since you made me skip cleaning it last week.” You listed off a few more tasks. Surprisingly, Brahms seemed to listen and mentally take note.

You had him repeat what you said and when you were satisfied he would remember the important tasks, you let him go.

Brahms hurried off to do just as you asked. But first stalled by the record player and put on some music.

You expected him to put on something he liked. However, soon your favorite record started to spin and your feet started to tap to the music.

For about two hours you sat by the window and looked out over the gardens. Your mind still tried to make a long list of things you needed to do. The weeding needed to be done but recently the weather didn’t permit a full day out in the gardens.

And you could start making out grime on the windows. You’d need to get on that before things start getting too difficult to clean.

But you forced yourself to relax and just enjoy sitting down for a long period of time.

Brahms returned with a fresh pot of tea and refilled your cup. Adding some small snacks by your chair and asked if you needed anything.

It was such a strange moment. Being waited on by your charge. Who usually threw a fit if you asked him to do anything but play music or read a book.

“You took the bin out?” You asked after the second hour waned. And Brahms nodded. Taking a seat by your knees on the floor and leaned his head against your leg.

“It’s hard work.” Brahms grumbled. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

You laughed and nodded. Shifting the cup of tea from your hand to the other so you could run your fingers through Brahms’ thick locks.

“You don’t need to. The important things are done. Thank you for doing them.” You said. Making sure you emphasized on the ‘thank you’.

Which Brahms nodded and you felt the weight of his head lean more heavily against your leg.

You both sat in silence for a while. Watching the rain run down the window as the weather turned the world outside into a gray mist.

The music had stopped some minutes ago. But you didn’t mind. The silence was welcome.

Then Brahms' voice broke through the quiet. Almost making you jump. “We cuddled last night.”

You felt heat run up your neck and into your cheeks as you nodded. You took a deep breath to calm the sudden rise in nerves. “We did. I...um, enjoyed it. I couldn't fall asleep at all last night.”

Brahms’ head tilted just enough so he could see your face. “Until I started cuddling you?”

You nodded. Hoping Brahms didn’t take notice of your lack of eye contact. “It was comforting. And I think the surprise of you doing it stunned my thoughts into letting me sleep.”

There was a crinkle around Brahms’ eyes that told you he was smiling under the mask. “Then…I can do it again?”

Shock ran through you. And you almost spilled your tea when you tried to distract yourself and give yourself a moment to think over the prospect.

But your mouth ran quicker than your mind could stop it.

“Only if you want too.” You said softly. Smiling down at Brahms as he nodded eagerly. “B-But not all the time. You still need to sleep in your own bed every once and a while.”

Your words didn’t seem to matter to him. You still said yes, and it made Brahms incredibly happy to hear it.

“Then you can come into my bed and we can cuddle there too.” Brahms said. And you almost choked on your tea. “If I ever have nightmares again, I expect some cuddles.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. “Fine, fine. It’s a deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[slasherstories123]

Think you can write where The female S/O dates Bo Sinclair, while being aware that Vincent was mesmerized by his twin brother's S/O girlfriend? She was sweet and kind to Vincent, but when she saw how cruel and heartless Bo was with his brother, and calling him a freak. When she stood up to Bo, he breaks up with her. Then near the end that Vincent actually gets a chance with the S/O that he loved. The S/O would be very complementive of his artwork

New beginning

Word count: 1.1k

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

You and Bo have been dating only for a few months, but you paid attention to his twin's eyes in the back. Always watching, practically mesmerized by you. He wanted you, but Bo got to you instead, even then, you still treated Vincent the same. Always tending to his wounds during a bad fight with a victim and just caring for him in general. You always thought they were the complete opposite on many levels. You didn’t mind, until Bo would become more cold hearted towards his own brother. Always calling him names and makes him feel more bad than he already does. It pained you to see him like this, but you never said anything,not feeling like getting yelled at, secretly comforting Vincent when you had the chance. You never wanted him to feel bad, even apologizing for Bo’s actions to the man.

Vincent forgave you, always telling you it’s not your fault, that’s just how he is, and he’ll always be like that. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. How can he be so flirty towards you but turn around and treat his brother like trash. His family. You hated it, even if you did try to talk about it he’d blow a fuse thinking you’re just taking his side. Which is half true. Vincent always works hard in taking care of victims, always cooped up in the basement and getting hurt when victims come, he deserves to be treated fairly, just like Bo.

One night, you’ve had enough. Bo's loud voice nearly shook the house as he yelled at his brother for coming back home late.It was bad enough he was in a bad mood due to a victim hurting his arm. You rubbed your temple to try and calm yourself down, hating it when he yelled, wondering how he doesn’t get sore throats. Each word that came out of his mouth was painful, even you could feel it, seeing Vincent sulk his head in shame.

The next words that came out of his mouth made you freeze. “You’re nothing but a freak! Get the hell out of my sight!” You stood up from your chair and slapped Bo dead in his face, causing his baseball cap to fall off. The slap caught the attention of both men. He looked at you in shock, but it quickly turned into anger. “The hell you do that for?” He yelled.

Even Vincent was shocked himself, but still stayed in the near corner. “Are you fucking serious Bo? That’s your brother! Your TWIN brother! Besides Lester and I, he’s all you have! You can’t treat him like dirt!” The angry man turned to you, yelling at you now. Vincent wanted to stay, but he decided not to, slowly sliding away and going down to his basement. You kept going at each other's throats, almost like a yelling contest, seeing who could be louder. You stood up for Vincent until the end, cursing at bo, saying how horrible of a brother he is to Vincent.

“He’s your BROTHER Bo!”

“Yeah? So what if the freaks my brother?”

“Your words can affect him! Don’t you realize that?!”

“Well if you like the freak so bad then go be with him then! This stupid relationship is over!”

He yelled in your face before storming off, door slamming behind him. You leaned against the table. Sitting down in the chair, body shaking due to too many emotions now coming at you: Anger, sadness, guilt, remorse. You had your face in your arms, tears of frustration built up in your eyes. Bo’s words cut deep, even to you, and he barely said anything to you, but it still hurt, hurts to know that he broke up with you because you decided to stick up for Vincent, it meant nothing,just wanting him to treat his brother fairley, like he’s a human being.

You never questioned why Vincent wears his mask, but you know it’s something personal and that Bo of all people should respect that, but he didn’t, and now you’re caught in this mess. You don’t regret sticking up for him though. It was worth it. But now you’d slowly have to put yourself back together. Despite Bo being a jerk to his brother.. He was still somewhat charming, but you still chose him, Vincent always watched you from afar, admired you, sometimes you think he was sad that you chose Bo over him. Sometimes, you even wonder what you see in him to make you fall in love with him. A soft tap of a shoulder caused you to flinch, picking your head up, it was just Vincent. He had a sketchbook in his hands. Sitting by you, he saw a tear escape your eyes. Slowly raising his hand to wipe it away, you smiled at the gesture.

“I’m.. so sorry you had to hear that..” The man shook his head in response, gently taking your hand with his soft ones. Guiding you to his basement, you didn’t have the strength to even say no. Letting him guide you to his area. It was clean, everything organized. The smell of vanilla candles filled the air, it was comforting. You sat in a chair next to an empty one where he sits by his desk. Vincent eventually sat down. Fiddling with a few pages with the sketchbook. He turned to a certain one, you leaned by his shoulder to look. It was you.

You knew Vincent was good with art, but you never knew how good he can look at your features in his drawings. Even showing little dates of when the art was completed. You were mesmerized yourself, it probably took him hours to make them, realizing that he had thoughts of you. He always had. Despite you being with Bo he stood around. He let you look, there were times you were completely doing nothing, he still drew you like you were the most perfect woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Not missing any sort of detail in your features.

It made you feel a certain way, despite you crying your eyes out a few minutes ago. “Thank you..Vincent. I love it. I love them all. You’re always so talented..” He loved it when you complimented his work, since he works so hard on them. You can’t help but admire his work, the time and effort he puts into each drawing, each sculpture, each painting, but he drew you, his sketchbook was filled with you. You felt at peace down in the basement with him, you always did, but this time it was different.

You felt comforted. Safe. Resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his hand hold yours, rubbing the back of it. Maybe being with Vincent was the best choice from the beginning. You’ll be happier with the man. A new beginning.

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #slasher imagines #slasher x you #slasher x reader #vincent Sinclair #bo sinclair #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #slasher angst #slasher fluff #slasher comfort #slasher x y/n #slashers x reader #house of wax 2005 #horror stories #fiction #slasher oneshot #slasher writing

[chronic-boogara]

𝚂𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

celebration post because i’m not shadow banned anymore !!! i’ve had this in my notes for a long long time

michael myers

•sitting down for a long period of time , staring at the same spot? count michael in. he does that all the time anyways so why not do it with you.

•believe it or not he doesn’t much mind what’s playing he just likes to see what’s on.

•actually that’s a lie. he hates romance movies. something about them makes him sick to his stomach. and dog movies. he knows they’re going to die

•movie night is also a valid excuse for cuddles. you’ll hold him anyways but he’s stubborn

jason vorhees

•if it makes you happy jason will happily sit through a film or two with you. make it monthly!!

•he’s picky about the genre though! no horror please :( he’s a scardy cat. it’ll give him bad nightmares. kind of ironic coming from him.

•he likes to watch like a coming of age movie or a nice feel good movie. or some sappy romance.

•no sex !! or anything inappropriate. if it’s rated r he will not be watching it. he also doesn’t really care for marvel movies.

thomas hewitt

•tommy doesn’t like being still for too long, his body needs to move. he’s an active person in body

•put on a movie while he’s doing something. he doesn’t mind that

•isn’t really into tv so he could care less what you put on. podcasts are more his speed because he doesn’t really need to watch to follow the plot

bubba sawyer

•YES! put on a comedy and he will sit there for hours. work is second in his mind now

•cartoons>>

•similar to michael he doesn’t mind what’s on. but just like jason he doesn’t like scary stuff.his brothers will purposely pick movies they know bubba won’t like.

•he can’t sit down for too long so he’ll only be able to sit through maybe one film if that. he’s a busy body he has lots to do. plus drayton is always making him do things around the house.

vincent sinclair

•the two of you regularly have a movie night. over time he has collected many different obscure films. he can’t wait to show you

•he has a collection of art films that he keeps behind a shelf in the basement. it’s his little stash

•he doesn’t mind other films of course. it’s just not his first choice. movie night with his brothers are always interesting.

•actually loves horror films !! they’re some of his faves

#i missed you guys so much #slasher community #slasher comfort #slasher x reader #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair #house of wax 2005 #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #halloween(rob zombie) #friday the thirteenth #friday the 13th #fluffy slasher headcanons #esha writes

[slasher-male-wife]

Slashers x touch starved s/o

I’m a very touch starved boy myself. Like when I get a boyfriend if he hugged me I’d cry. Maybe that’s also because I haven’t even had an irl relationship before. Anyway their s/o is gonna cry from happiness when they hug or cuddle or whatever. 

Warnings: Billy calls the reader pretty piggy in a loving way

Includes: The Sinclair brothers and Billy Lenz 

Lester Sinclair 

You’re sitting on the couch reading a magazine while Lester does something he just does. He constantly has little projects going and such. He finally comes into the living room and sits down next to you. He smiles and pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder. You set down the magazine and feel tears pool in your eyes. You turn to the side and wrap your arms around his neck. You let the tears fall and Lester gets worried, “Hey darlin what’s the matter?” He asks wiping them away. You smile and give him a kiss. 

“No ones ever done this with me before. I’ve never felt this loved before.” Your voice wavers a bit and you bury your face into his neck. The tears keep falling and he just holds you there, rubbing your back. 

Vincent Sinclair

You’re in the basement with Vincent while he’s working on a sculpture. He’s at the point where he’s adding color to it. You’re reading a book and listening to the music playing on radio on the mattress. He sets down his tools and lays next to you. You set the book down and cuddle up next to him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You’ve never gotten this much love before. The only way you really know how to channel this emotion is to cry happily.

Vincent sees this and starts to panic, wiping away your tears. He holds you closer and you smile. “I’m not sad Vinny. I just feel so loved right now. I’ve never had someone to do this with. I just love you so much.” He sighs relieved and presses his wax lips on your forehead.

Bo Sinclair

It’s a rainy day and you’re in the kitchen. The radio is playing and you’re dancing a little while you’re making yourself some tea. Bo walks in the front door and you turn down the music. “Welcome home handsome.” You say sipping your tea. He walks in the kitchen and gives you a hug. You hug him back and he turns up the radio.

“You know I’ve never seen you dance.” He says a smile on his face.

“Well I don’t dance alone.” You say putting your arms around his neck. He puts his arms around your waist and you two begin to sway to the music together. You rest your head on his chest and he pulls you in tighter. The song playing is something old. A slow song from the 50’s probably. As you two continue to dance your eyes start to water. You never got to dance with someone before. You were close to it when you went to prom with Elliot Yoler. But he stood you up for Meg Reagan. But now that you get to do this, your heart is bursting. Tears of love flow and Bo catches on. “Woah darlin it’s ok. Am I that bad at dancin?” He ask pulling you away so he can see you. You shake your head.

“I’ve never had this before. This is my first time really dancing with someone. I love you so much Bo.” He wipes away your tears and kisses you on the cheek.

“ I love you too Y/N.”

Billy Lenz

After a long day of classes and dealing with your collage housemates you climb up to the attic and look for Billy. Once he spots you he runs up and hugs you tight. “Pretty piggy’s finally here! Billy missed his pretty piggy.” You smile and hug him back.

“I missed you too Billy. I’m so tired.” You say going and sitting on his mattress. Billy sits next to you and holds your hand.

“Billy wants you to feel better. Rest on Billy.” He says putting your head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around you. You smile and shut your eyes as Billy mumbles about how much he loves you. You start to cry happily, knowing how much Billy loves you. Billy picks up on this and frowns. “Why is pretty piggy crying?” He asks.

“I’m just really happy Billy. I feel so loved right now I just have to cry.” Billy strokes your hair and you ,melt into him, tears soaking into his green sweater. 

#bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #house of wax #black christmas #slasher #slashers #slasher x y/n #slasher comfort #slasher community

[the-slasher-madame]

Can you pretty please do a part 2 of the slashers with a significant other like Eleven from stranger things? I love the first one so very much 🥺🥰❤️

Part II of slashers and an S/O with powers like Eleven from Stranger Things

HI!!!! I'd love to dear <3333

This is honestly really popular!!!! And thank y'all for bearing with me and my lack of a schedule, my brain is a bit of a walnut. Anyways!!!! Here we go

CWs: blood, mentions of violence and gore, slashers, Otis Driftwood, let me know if I'm missing anything!!

Lester Sinclair: you are so right, this man is freaking the fuck out. If you pass out? He's right next to you, Vinny is going to have to take care of the both of you. Will get advice from Vincent on how to take care of you. Definitely crosses himself the first time you use your powers, but he's not really scared of you, just the whole supernatural piece freaks him out. Will, like his older brother, will have a little aftercare kit ready to go. He'd damn near fistfight Bo if he asks you to do anything as a party trick or to help with the tourists. Absolutely babies you, and cuddles you, and is just the softest boy ever. Loves you very much and is always just making heart eyes at you

Billy Lenz: I feel like he'd be really excited and think it's the neatest thing ever. I think he's still childlike, especially when it comes to you doing shit with your mind. I think he'd worry when your nose bled, because he's probably had a few himself due to less-than-pleasant reasons, so he would gently clean it away while murmuring. "Sh sh sh, Billy will clean piggy's nose. Billy will be very gentle." He would not appreciate the effect your powers can have on telephones, because he really likes that thing lolz. First time you do it, particularly if he didn't know, he's gonna be kinda scared and pretty excited and babbling on quite a bit (I fucking LOVE how everyone writes how it talks, it scratches my brain grooves really good). Will drag you to the attic if you pass out and hold and rock you until you wake up. Quietly mumbles to you and pets your hair. 10/10 sweet excited lil kid

Billy and Stu (poly): oh boy, I think we allllll know how these 2 are gonna be. . . Both will tease you endlessly. Stu will beg you to do tricks and will randomly imitate you (really badly, using like fishing poles to make things float). Billy will just tease you anyways, no matter what, and he'll try to keep Stu in line so you don't overdo it. They both get a little freaked when you get the nosebleeds, Billy will be cleaning you up and be like "you should be more careful, huh Professor X?" Stu is gonna be less chill and more freaked and feel kinda bad, particularly the first time you get a nosebleed. If you pass out? Ohhhh boy, you will wake up to them standing over you yelling at each other. Stu is like wailing and so so scared and Billy is like "get your ass together damn it, go get the first aid kit I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY NEED JUST LISTEN TO ME DUMBASS-" Just pure freaked out mother hens. Would feel like they're in a horror movie when they find out, not quite scared, but maybe startled.

Pyramid Head: No reaction from Geometry man, none. Would probably think you're another punisher lol. I mean he's used to weird shit, and blood, and passing out. He's a little startled when he sees it all at first, but I think he would be more comfortable after finding out, I think he'd feel more like he can relate to you. Is also more relieved because he sees you aren't entirely helpless in Silent Hill. He doesn't freak out if you bleed/pass out, just drags you out of the way if you're unconscious. May need to be asked if you need help cleaning up the blood, he's just so used to having blood all over himself and seeing blood all over everyone/thing else. I just don't think he is familiar with anything from outside of Silent Hill, people (and geese) included.

Otis Driftwood: another one that is terrified. He's gonna go through every reaction that the Hewitt's went through lol. He's terrified, he think's Satan is finally after him, he's just a mess. Might point a shotgun at you until you explain you're A) not going to hurt him and 2) not Satan. More tough love, he's like "oh a nose bleed? That's it? you're fiiine." Would freak if you passed out, but he would never let you know that (Baby would fill you in and laugh a bit with you). Will ask you to help with victims, but is understanding if you don't want to use your powers or are uncomfortable with the Firefly Family Business. After the first time you pass out, he'll be soft when y'all are going to sleep that night. Holds you close and whispers in your ear about how worried he was.

Pinhead: just like Pyramid Head, but I think he's more with it when it comes to knowing that nosebleeds and fainting aren't super good things (he was human at one point, right? I think he sort of remembers but not like entirely). Also feels a little closer to you after he sees you have powers, cause hey so does he, ain't that swell- Would probably also smirk a bit while you bleed. Feels more comfortable having you in his little corner of hell, around his fellow cenobites, like he likes knowing you can hold your own. Feels unpleasant when you pass out, but will make sure you wake up in a soft bed, feeling refreshed and with whatever you need awaiting you. He cares, but is a bit distant and that shows through in how he takes care of you (definitely thinks you can handle your nosebleeds yourself, will not clean you off or baby you unless you lose consciousness).

That's the rest of them!!! I really hope you like it <33333

#slashers #slasher fucker #slasher community #slasher comfort #slasher x reader #billy lenz #bill lenz x reader #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #billy and stu #stu matcher #billy loomis x reader #Billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #billy and stu x reader #otis driftwood #otis driftwood x reader #pinhead #pinhead x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #stranger things #eleven's powers

[semiweirdshipper]

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.

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #reader insert #child reader #Platonic love only #Not romantic #bo sinclair x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #freddy krueger x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #Father & child relationship #michael myers x reader #Slashers as dads #Comfort drabbles

[slashv1xen]

bo sinclair’s reaction to you flinching

fem!reader x lovesick/obsessed bo sinclair

category: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

the two of you were having an argument. what about? his anger problems

y/n: “you always do this, you seriously need to get your short temper in check”

bo: “my temper ‘s perfectly fine, ya just looking for reasons to argue”

y/n: “you’re raising your voice now! don’t you understand that yelling like this makes everyone else feel like shit?”

bo: *rolls eyes.* “just shut up, okay?!”

he stepped forward towards you aggressively and you flinched. hard.

when he saw this his eyes flashed with hurt and he took a small step back. his jaw was slightly agape, then hardened as he thought of his actions. ‘is she seriously afraid of me?’

you began breathing heavily, and bo sighed whilst running his hand through his hair. your eyes darted around nervously, waiting for a larger reaction

to your surprise, he walked up to you slowly and hugged you, his muscular arms wrapping around your upper back. his face was in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. his eyes watered slightly, and you mouth went dry as you felt you neck becoming damp

“are you afraid of me? you know i’ll never hurt you, right?” he sniffled, then looked up at you for reassurance, his nose and corners of his eyes red, and his cheeks damp from his hot tears.

you stayed silent for a few seconds, unsure how to comfort him. bo’s never this emotional, so it truly was a sight to see. “i know bo, i’m not afraid of you. i’m sorry, i was just…” you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at him reassuringly.

his head fell into the crook of your neck once more, finding comfort in this position. he mumbled a few words, words you couldn’t hear. “what was that, bo?”

his face heated up, you didn’t even need to see it, you could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. “let’s just cuddle together” he mumbled again quietly. you laughed at his shyness, and the two of you made it to the bedroom, and reconciled.

authors note: hi loves, this is my first fanfic and i hope you enjoyed it! sorry if it is rushed, i wrote this at 12am while i was supposed to be sleeping. if you have any feedback, please say i would love to improve my writing. if you have any requests i would also love to complete those. i also feel like this is out of character but it’s all up to interpretation i guess. thank you for reading and have a great day x

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax (2005) #fanfic #fluff #light angst #hurt/comfort #fem!reader #shy bo #relationship #fights #arguing #making up #reconciling #you comfort bo

[limehaspassed]

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Slashers Comforting You

In which different slashers find you suddenly crying and do their best to comfort you. Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Brahms Heelshire, and Vincent Sinclair.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Michael Myers

He immediately leaves you alone, turning heel and practicality sprinting away.

However, he does return later on after you’ve calmed down with flowers in his hand, ones that he’s picked from a victims lawn.

He holds them out to you and you accept them, smiling at him with the same smile you’ve always used. He likes this smile, despite the fact he refuses to admit it. This smile comforts him more than the flowers will comfort you.

He spends the rest of the night checking up on you and making sure you’re alright. He vows that the next time he’ll actually comfort you and not just run away like he had done earlier.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jason Voorhees

Jason is nervous to help you when he finds you, not used to situations like this. He’s about to leave you be when he hears you call his name, a single word that leaves him stuck at your side.

He immediately goes up to you and sits beside you, an awkwardness filling the air between you two, your sniffles the only thing that broke through the heavy air.

For a while, the two of you sit like that until you lean your head against his shoulder. Like clockwork, his arms wraps around your waist, his movements a little more confident now that you’ve shown you wanted them.

He lets you cry into your shoulder as he holds you, running his hands along your head like his mother used to do with him whenever he cried.

When you calmed down, he’ll take you to your favorite spot in the camp to cheer you up, eager to get a smile back upon your pretty face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thomas Hewitt

When Thomas finds you crying, he’s almost surprised because he didn’t think that anything had wrongly befallen upon you recently. You had been happy moments before yet now you were crying. He was confused to say the least

However, despite your confusion, he sat down beside you on those old wooden floors and rubbed your back. He was tentative, constantly making sure he was gentle, but never stopped. You rubbed his back when he felt bad, it was only right he rubbed yours now.

Thomas was worried when you didn’t stop crying, you just remained how you were when he got there for a bit. He worried that his comforts wouldn’t help you.

When you finally succumbed to his comfort and allowed yourself to be pulled out of such a solemn state, Thomas couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his chest when you leaned against him.

He was glad you weren’t crying anymore and were now simply allowing him to hold you as you let this sad spell leave.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bubba Sawyer

He wasn’t sure what to do at all, has never been one to comfort another. He’s a family guy so he feels a need to help you but he doesn’t know how.

Ends up going up to you and allowing you to leas the way in what you want. You simply ask him to sit beside you as you lean against him, crying against his shoulder.

You two don’t exchange words, you just sit there. Not having much to do, Bubba fiddles with his hands for a bit before you make him stop by holding them. You don’t let go.

After you’ve calmed down a bit, Bubba wipes away the last of your tears, allowing you to move closer as he wraps his arms around you. He’s always slow with his movements, making sure they’re fine by you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Brahms Heelshire

You were crying in the kitchen while you made dinner, a sadness taking over you suddenly. Brahms was quick to notice when he walked in the room, his want for food leaving him as he heard your ill disguised sniffles.

He was quick to be at your side, a sudden defensiveness building inside him. You had gone out earlier that day and Brahms feared that someone might have hurt you.

“What happened?” He would ask, gently hands pulling you close. His fingers grabbed what you were working on and set it on the counter.

You would allow yourself to be held but never said anything in response, your tears only increasing as stress flooded from your body in the form a salted droplet.

Brahms would hold you till you calmed down, placing gentle kisses against your head, his arms tightening around you more each time another tear hit his chest.

He wouldn’t let you go until hours later.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Vincent Sinclair

Originally wanted to leave you alone because he likes to be left alone when he’s emotion more than usual. However, as he watches you cry, a guilt piles in him and he eventually walks over and taps your shoulder.

You look up with swollen eyes, red with irritation. He takes a gentle hand and wipes away your tears. They just keep coming and he’s stuck there for a while, trying to wipe your tears away.

You grab his hands and pull them away your face, letting them rest in your hands, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down.

Vincent just stands there and allows you to use him as a grounding tool.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thats all for now. Thank you for reading <3

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬

#brahms heelshire #thomas hewitt #michael myers #vincent sinclair #bubba sawyer #reader insert #gender nuetral reader #comfort #headcannons #slashers #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms x reader #michael myers x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees

[capybar00stash]

can you people believe i've been loving vincent sinclair for a year straight?

no? no one's surprised? ah, fair enough (also i drew this on a whim so don't mind it looking a lil diff, it happens all the time)

#capybar00 art #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #slasher community #slasher fanart #slasher fandom #slasher memes #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x y/n #the sinclair brothers #the sinclairs #slasher movies #slasher meme #slasher art #comfort character #slasher fanfiction #slasher fluff #slasher fucker

[lonelyzarquon]

Peter Cushing as Herbert Flay in Madhouse (1974)

#peter cushing #madhouse #horroredit #horrorfilmgifs #filmedit #userbrittany #classichorrorblog #madhouse 1974 #jim clark #70s horror #mine #my gifs #peter is servvving in this one #included the name of his character simply 'cause i love it #this is my comfort movie everybody look away #when you've got a proto-slasher with vincent price AND peter cushing with some weird shit like a spider lady in the cellar #you know it's a good one #and a movie-within-a-movie type of thing price playing a dramatised version of himself #10/10 masterpiece. ridiculous

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Commission: Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Theme: Comfort/Slow Burn Slasher Story, some Stockholm syndrome aspects, mentions of blood, mentions of ex abusive partner

Notes: This character is from the movie "The Boy". If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend watching it. Both for context of this character and also because I do actually enjoy the film.

This commission was alot of fun to write. Kinda rekindled my love for slashers!

Hope you enjoy!

The rain came down in a misty curtain as you pulled up in the driveway. The mansion sat as silent as ever. With ivy crawling up the side of the house and the dark windows gave it an ominous glare as you cut off the engine. You sat in the car for a long moment. Listening to the soft pitter of water that splashed against the vehicle.

How were you going to explain this to Brahms? You knew you were already in trouble for leaving the house. And even worse the estate. But with the fresh collection of bruises and the cut on your lip, things were going to be even more complicated to explain. You rolled up the sleeve of your warm clothes and tilted your arm. Bruises were already coloring your skin in large deep purple blotches. And you could easily make out the clear markings of fingers wrapping around your wrist. You glanced at yourself in the rearview mirror. The blackeye throbbed and the patch was darkening more by the minute. The split on your lip had finally stopped bleeding at least. You sighed and slumped back into the seat. Everything hurt. You just wanted to curl up into a ball under the blankets and forget about the world. But first you needed to get past Brahms. 

You pushed open the car door and headed inside. Ducking your head against the rain as it started coming down more prominently from the sky. The front doors creaked and the sound echoed through the empty house like a siren in the dead of night. It made you wince a little. But you called out to the house as the heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind you.  “Brahms?” Your voice carried deep into the many endless hallways. But no reply came back. “I’m sorry I left so suddenly. There was an emergency in town. I told you I’d be back….” The silence stretched and you halted by the staircase, peering up towards the second floor. “Brahms?” Had he left to go after you?

It was a ridiculous idea. You never knew Brahms to leave the house very often, very much less the estate itself. You hesitantly climbed the stairs. Reaching the second floor as a clap of thunder rolled over the roof of the mansion. You were about to call out again, when firm hands grabbed your arms and your back was slammed against the wall. You stared up at Brahms as he glared down at you. His chest heaving like he had scaled the entire structure of the mansion to get to you. 

The flames of fury in his eyes softened as you gasped in pain. Your arms curling into your chest as you tried to pry Brahms’ hands off your bruised skin. “Let me go, Brahms. Please, you’re hurting me.” You said, keeping your voice soft. Like you were talking to a bull ready to charge. Brahms’ hands lingered on you, but his iron grip released and you winced as blood rushed back into your blemished hand.  “You left.” His voice was muffled from the porcelain mask that covered his face. “You left me.”  “There was an emergency,” You repeated. Trying to ignore the vicious ache in your arms. “I’m sorry I missed breakfast. Are you hungry? I can make you-”

That iron grip returned and you winced as Brahms halted your attempt to step around him. His head tilted curiously down to your arm, where his hand clasped around your wrist. Without removing his hand from you, Brahms slid the sleeve of your jacket up. Revealing the marks that coloured your skin. His fingers were almost identically placed around your wrist as the bruises. His breath echoed in the mask and you could almost see the tremble that rippled through his body.  “What happened?” His voice was soft. A dangerous tone darkening his words. “Who did this to you?”  Tears burned the rims of your eyes. You never told him why you escaped into the countryside. Why loud noises made you jump or when he raised his voice you cowered away from him. You took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears before they broke free.  “T-The emergency in town…I got a letter from an ex lover of mine. Said they were in town and wanted to meet.” Brahms' grip tightened, but you ignored it. “It was stupid of me. But…they tried to push me into a car. Take me away. And then…punched me when I didn’t do it willingly.” A tear slipped through your defenses and you hurriedly wiped it away. “Some nice guys in the parking lot saw it and stopped them. They’re in the police station.” You didn’t want to say anymore. It was bringing forth a wave of discomfort that made your stomach churn and your chest tighten. You finally looked up at Brahms. His stare gave away no emotion. But his hands were tight around your wrists and his eyes never left the bruising on your skin.  “I’m ok..” You said after a long moment. Reaching up with your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Hoping it would soothe him. “Did you want something to eat?” He didn’t reply right away. But then, the tiniest nod dipped his chin. And you forced a smile to stretch your lips, removing your wrists gently from his grip. “Alright, I’ll get some eggs and bacon started for us.” You expected him to follow. Like he always did when you were going about your chores through the house. But when you turned to address him after entering the kitchen, he had disappeared.  You ignored the growing tendrils of dread as you prepared the food alone. Your hands shook and you felt your throat choke like you were about to cry. You weren’t sure if it was caused by Brahms' reaction to your injuries that was causing these emotions. Or the fact you didn’t want to be alone right now. The bacon sizzled and popped on the pan while you flipped the eggs to cook on their other side. You toasted bread and buttered it. Serving two plates and setting them on the dining table before calling out to Brahmns.  When he wasn’t with you, Brahms was in the walls. And he would reply to your voice by knocking on the inner foundations of the mansion. You never knew what he was doing back there. But this time, silence answered your summons to breakfast. And you let a minute pass before calling out again. He possibly didn’t hear you. The house was big after all. And Brahms sometimes delved deep into the mansion when he wanted to sulk or give you the silent treatment. Though, it was never for long, it would irritate you when he’d leave you to the empty house. Alone with the creaking walls and whistling winds through cracked windows. It was unsettling. And it wasn’t like you knew how to navigate the inner walls like he did. And he knew that. It was very frustrating that he knew that. “Brahms?” You called yet again. Climbing to the second story after searching through the first. You sighed heavily. Stomping up the stairs. “I said I was sorry.” You didn’t have the energy to deal with a bratty Brahms right now. It was wishful thinking, but you had hoped Brahms would be ecstatic when you came back. Forgetting about you sprinting to the car before he could catch you and him screaming at you to come back. But again, that was very wishful thinking. The rain beat against the windows and thunder shook the walls around you. You hugged yourself. Smelling the iron scent on your clothes. You didn’t get to change before cooking breakfast. The spots of blood littered the woolen material of your clothes and you were sure there was grime all over your face.  Perhaps you should change before sitting down to eat. Not that you felt like eating anyway. But Brahms probably wouldn’t like it. If he even came out of the walls to eat. A creak behind you announced Brahms’ arrival. He slipped into existence as silently as a mouse from a hole in the wall you never knew existed.

“Bath.” He said and started walking towards one of the many bathrooms. His bare feet made barely any noise as he walked over the polished wooden floor. Only stopping by a door to watch you hurry after him. Tilting his masked face to the room. You peered inside. Finding a wall of thick, warm steam had filled the room.  You sighed and shook your head, “Brahms, it's too early for your bath. We need to eat first.”  You saw his eyes narrow impatiently. And he then shoved you inside the steaming room before closing the door behind you. You were about to scold him for his rude behavior but stopped when you saw a pile of your clothes neatly folded on the sink. A white plush towel, fresh from the linen closet, sat on the towel rack by the tub that was filled with hot water. Bubbles blanketed the surface of the water and you could smell your soap had been mixed heavily into the bath. Brahms moved around you to sit by the tub’s side. His doll mask turned to you expectantly. After a moment, he impatiently tapped the tub with his hand. The narrowed stare turning stone-like when you didn’t immediately jump into the hot water. You hesitated for a second longer, before beginning to remove your clothes.  It was no secret to you that Brahms had spied on you when you were alone. There were cracks and holes everywhere in this house, so you knew that he had seen you many times without any clothes. But undressing right in front of him was new. And when you tried to cover yourself up, Brahms slapped away your hand and tapped the bath again.  “Bath.” He said again, with more ferocity this time.  You nodded and stepped over the rim of the tub. Wincing as the heat of the water enveloped your cool skin. The ache in your body dulled to a much more comfortable throb. And you sighed heavily as you allowed yourself to relax against the porcelain bowl.  Shamelessly, Brahms’ eyes drank in the sight of your body. You tried to ignore the heavy staring but it became increasingly hard too when he inched closer and grabbed the sponge. You said nothing as he lathered it up with sweet smelling soap and grunted at you.  “Lean forward,” He mumbled beneath the mask. And you did so slowly. There was a pain in your ribs, one you haven’t yet noticed until you sat down. Did a blow hit your ribs? You couldn’t remember. You just remembered flailing and kicking. Striking their face until they released you and others came to your aid.

You let your eyes close as the soft material of the sponge touched your back. And Brahms began scrubbing your shoulders and spine in slow, but soothing, circles.  “Are you in pain?” He asked. But you didn’t need to answer him. Your stiff movements and shallow breaths, mixing with the way you held your arm against your side, all told him you were definitely in pain. And he could see something you couldn’t. Scratches tore along your neck and shoulders. Nothing deep enough to need stitches, but whoever had touched you; their fingernails scraped skin from your body when they attempted to restrain you.

Brahms' mind roared with an anger he hadn’t felt in a long time.  Even the fury he felt seeing you drive away, the sadness and sudden loneliness, didn’t compare to this bonfire of seething rage in him.  He forced his hands to stop shaking. Kept the venom and sparks from his tone.  You were hurt.  He needed to make sure you were ok. 

“No.” You replied.  Liar! His inner voice screamed at you. Bubbles and water poured from his fist as his fingers clenched tight around the sponge. It was the only thing he could do to stop this anger from surging out.

Your eyes were closed. You saw nothing when his composure cracked and he tilted his mask to the side. Or the deep breath that made his chest swell before he let himself speak again. 

“Are. You. Hurt?” He asked once more. A silent threat lining his words if you were to lie to him again. Though your eyes opened, you didn’t look at him. But nodded. Raising your wrist from the water to show him the deepening colors. The formation of bruises now prominently displayed the thick fingers that had squeezed around your wrist. Brahms could even make out the small scratches of nails digging into your skin. 

“This hurts more than anything else.” You told him. And Brahms, with a gentleness that surprised you for such a strong man, took your wrist in his hand and started to massage it with the soap. Removing the grime and touch of another from your skin.  Silence stretched between you as Brahms washed you. He rolled the sleeves of his cardigan up so he could run the sponge along your legs without you leaving the water. He grunted when he wanted you to move and guided your body with careful hands when you didn’t understand what he wanted.  You soon came to the realization that he was mimicking you. When you had first given him a bath some time ago. You had moved slowly and carefully. Not wanting to stress him out by having him sit vulnerable for too long or touching him to the point of oversensitivity. Though he had enjoyed the bath, it was new to him. Like this reversed situation. And he was treating you how you treated him.  Gently. Cautiously. Perhaps a bit more touchy than you had been. But it soothed your body into a relaxed state. 

You rested your chin on your knee as Brahms examined the bruises along your arms and side. The curled up position brought some comfort to you, and also stopped the pain from your ribs.  You winced as Brahms fingers grazed the painful area and his hands twitched away from you. You heard his breath hitch behind the mask and you gave him a small smile. 

“It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt too much.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face and you almost physically recoiled from the glare that scowled from under his mask.  “Do not lie to me.” He growled, his voice echoing behind the mask. 

And you nodded. Falling silent as he dunked the sponge into the water and then tilted your chin up with his free hand. You closed your eyes as he cautiously washed your face. Taking care not to scrape along the scab that had formed over your lip or drown you in water over your nose. You felt his thumb graze over your cheek and you could sense him leaning towards you. Watching you as his hand brought the sponge down to your neck to clean around your chest. You didn’t dare move. His hands were calming, but never had you allowed him to touch you this way. And you jerked back when the sponge went a little too low over your chest. 

“Not there,” You said softly, but firmly. And Brahms nodded. Finishing up his cleaning by cupping water over your face to rid the soap from your cheeks and chin.

Brahms then stood and moved to sit beside the tub, facing the door. This was another common occurrence. When Brahms felt particularly bratty or lonely, he would sit between you and the door. Able to keep you from leaving the room until he said so. At least this time, you were able to relax in a hot bath and not be stuck reading the same poetry book for the next two hours. You settled back into the water. Allowing the silence to stretch between the two of you as the storm grew more wild outside. You weren’t sure how long you were in the bath for, but the storm blackened the sky and soon the outside world was hidden in shadows. When your fingers turned wrinkly and the water started to lose its heat, you started to rise from the water. You were about to make a move to gingerly climb out of the tub when a thunderous crash shook the house. The lights flickered off and you froze as the room disappeared around you.

You could hear Brahms shift somewhere beside you. “Can you help me out, Brahms?” You asked the very dark room. “I can’t see anything.” 

“Give me your hand.” You heard him say. And you offered your hand to the darkness. It almost gave you a fright when his warm fingers wrapped around your palm. And very cautiously, you stood out of the water and stepped over the edge of the tub. Wincing as your ribs protested the sudden movement. But you forced yourself to stand, blindly searching for the towel. Finding it a second later being wrapped around your shoulders.

You thanked the shadow that was Brahms and started to dry yourself.| But then heard him whine softly and you stalled mid wipe along your arms. Warm hands began to move the towel along your skin. And you let your own hands drop to your sides so Brahms had free rein of your body.  The soft material stroked along your shoulders and back, but Brahms carefully patted down your ribs and bruised arms. So not to put too much pressure on the injured area.  And then you felt a comb begin to smooth through your hair. Gently unknotting any tangles from your hair and patting out any moisture left from the water.

You stood there in silence with your eyes closed. It was unnerving to stare into the void. You had only Brahms’ touch to center you. And soon you felt the prickle of the cold night air begin to tickle your skin. And you asked Brahmns to hand you your clothes. Which he did after a small hesitation. 

“I’m going to freeze, Brahms.” You said into the void. “Please, hand me my clothes.” 

Once dressed, you didn’t dare make a move towards the door. You had slightly been turned while Brahms had been drying you and you had no idea if you were facing the door or the bath. You felt Brahms come up behind you. His large frame seemed to press up against you as you reached for his hand. 

“Bedtime, I think.” You said softly. “I’m really tired, Brahms.”

It was partly true. If you were being honest with yourself, you just wanted the day to end. Move on from what happened today and start fresh tomorrow. Let your body heal and continue on with your life with Brahms and the mansion as usual. And the sooner it happened, the better. You expected some sort of reluctance from Brahms. You would miss dinner and you still haven’t eaten the food you prepared earlier. It probably wasn’t even that late in the evening.  But your body was indeed tired from the emotional stress. And even though Brahms doesn’t act like it, he is a grown man. He can take care of himself. There was food in the fridge he could eat and it's not like you needed to babysit him all the time. He has lived in the walls for years before you came along. So, he can suffer one night of fending for himself.

Whether or not Brahms nodded, you couldn’t see his reaction to such an early bedtime. But you felt his hand take yours and pull you forward. You heard the door creak open and the soft taps of Brahms bare feet against the wooden floor. It seemed like a lifetime in the dark, being dragged in a direction you had some small sense of familiarity with. But another creak of a door and then the smell of freshly washed sheets filled your nose; told you that you were inside your room. 

“Can you actually see? Or do you know the house that well?” You asked Brahms as you were gently pulled towards the center of the room. 

“I know the walls better.” His reply came from the darkness. And then you felt your knees hit the side of the mattress. You ignored the small knock of wood against your legs and gingerly got into bed. You felt Brahms pat down the sheets and even fluff up your pillow before his touch disappeared from your hand. But you could still feel his presence beside the bed. 

He was unsure what to do. The roles were reversed and the usual routine had been thrown out the window. He wouldn’t get his good night kiss or be tucked into bed tonight.  Brahms had half the thought to protest you going to bed so early. Or at least tuck him in for the night before you went to sleep.  They’re hurt. The childish voice in his head protested. They look after us when we’re hurt. Shouldn’t we do the same?

But what about him? He wanted to be tucked in. Brahms couldn’t remember the last time he had gone to sleep without your voice saying goodnight to him. What was he going to do? He could stay by your bed until you were healed enough to then walk him to his room- 

You reached out and took Brahms’ hand in yours. You felt his entire body stiffen from the touch, but then relax when you grazed your finger against the back of his palm.  “Why don’t you sleep in here tonight? I’ll tuck you in.” You moved to the other side of the bed and threw back the sheets so Brahms could join you. His hand still clutched yours as he pondered over the idea. It wasn’t in his bed, though. It's different. But he would be close to you all night. How many times had he thought about sleeping in the same bed as you? After a nightmare. Asking you for comfort when his chest hurt and his head wouldn’t stop pounding? 

The bed creaked softly as Brahms sat on the bed. And then slowly laid beside you. Resting his head on the pillow you had just used. Feeling the warmth from your body beneath the sheets as you threw the covers over him. You mimicked his movements from before, making sure the blankets were tightly tucked around his tall frame. And then, you trailed your fingers over the top of the mask. Managing to catch a stray strand of hair and tuck it out of his face. 

“Goodnight, Brahms. Sleep tight.” You said softly. And pressed a small kiss to the porcelain lips. You did this all without any insight on where your kiss would land. But you luckily got the angle right and slipped further under the covers. You were unable to roll on your side due to your ribs. So, you tried to get as comfortable as possible on your back. Your hand still firmly clasped within Brahms’ as you heard his breath begin to slow.  You fell asleep not long after your eyes closed. The storm continued to beat against the mansion roof and rain splattered against the windows in waves of cold water. 

Brahms however, did not go to sleep for sometime. His mind raced with restless thoughts. All of them about you. About what happened to you today and how he had done nothing to stop it.  He should have tied you up. Locked you in the attic.  He never wanted to hurt you. You wouldn’t love him if he harmed you. Maybe you wouldn’t come back if he did something bad to you. But you left the mansion, anyway. Ran from him when he screamed for you to come back. Drove away to meet with someone else. Someone that hurt you. That tried to take you from him.  His fist clenched hard and your whimper brought him from his furious spiral. You turned towards him, eyes still closed and deep in sleep. But you cuddled up to him with a soft breath. And he quickly released the strength from his fist around your hand. And he rolled over so he was facing your sleeping form. The mask hid the small smile that stretched his lips as he tugged a strand of hair behind your ear. Perhaps this time, your adventure away taught you a lesson. You came back to him. Let him take care of you. So, you definitely did love him. At least enough to come back. But he couldn’t let it happen again. You were his. No one, not even you, would take that away from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#The boy #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms x y/n #brahms #brahms x reader #reader insert #slasher #slasher x reader #movie character #comfort story #y/n #y/n x slasher #slasher x y/n #slasher comfort #commission

[gor3whore69]

my comfort movie: bride of chucky (1998)

dir. ronny yu

#horror #horror movies #horror film #alternative #90s horror #bride of chucky #tiffany valentine #charles lee ray #ronny yu #slashers #comfort movies

[chronic-boogara]

𝚂𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝟸

happy un-shadow banning esha day !!! i was actually so pressed y’all like what was i supposed to do all day 😞

billy loomis

•oh please , you will spend a good majority of your time watching movies

•he’s very serious about his films. there’s a certain way he has to watch them. and no he will not change his ways for anyone including you y/n

•it has to be dark outside , all the curtains closed. stu can’t be sitting too close to him or he’ll be tempted to hit him to shut him up

•his favorite genre is horror but he’s willing to watch other things if he deems them good enough. he definitely calls them films instead of movies

•a bit of a pick-me. he will pretend to hate everything that’s new and popular gravitating towards whatever is looked down upon at the time

stu macher

•he is the same as billy. loves movies

•will talk through an entire film non stop if you or billy don’t stop him. he just has a lot to say all the time

•honestly if he doesn’t like the film he’ll just fall asleep.

•he likes to laugh so getting really goofy movies is a must for him. as much as billy hates them.

lester sinclair

•he loves movies. he’s not like billy or vince he loves all movies. he doesn’t believe there’s a bad movie

•lester could be watching a rock and still have fun because you’re with him.

•really likes movies like “the bee movie” or “fish tales”. to him they’re masterpieces. definitely has more than one copy of each.

•also a huge starwars fan!! like he absolutely geeks out over that stuff. he knows so much trivia about the series it’s absolutely insane

bo sinclair

•bo loves to watch movies with you. it’s nice to just sit and relax after a hard day.

•he does NOT like “girly movies” but if you beg him he will give in eventually.

•he secretly loves early 2000s disney movies. something about them is so comforting. he enjoys going back in time and remembering how happy things were. of course you’ll never hear him admit out loud.

•not too picky about movies but he’ll cover your eyes when something sexual or really scary happens.

#ahhh i love them #my little stabby babies #slasher x reader #slasher community #slasher comfort #fluffy slasher headcanons #slasher headcanons #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface fluff #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #scream 1996 #house of wax 2005 #esha writes

[slasher-male-wife]

hhghjf could u please write ur take on Rz myers, billy loomis or vincent sinclair meeting their s/o for the first time? Like an s/o thats kind of oblivious to their whole deal and theyre just fascinated by them!! 🥺🥺

You bet your ass I can. I’m gonna do all three cause I feel like it and like I’m just happy to have another request. I hope you enjoy anon

Michael Myers 

I feel like you two would first meet when he’s stalking you. Probably on Halloween. You’d see him in his mask and invite him in. He’d be confused but go it. You’d have him sit down and he’d just stare at you confused.

You’d make him tea and try to talk to him, getting lost in his blue eyes and long brown hair. “Oh can you not talk?” You’d probably ask. He’d nod and you’d go get a paper and pen for him to write on.

Murdering you would be a long gone idea now because he wants to see where this goes probably. 

“So what’s your name?” You ask. Michael scribbles it down and shows you. “Michael. I heard the legend about this guy Michael Myers. Killed his sister as a kid and broke free and killed countless other people too. Poor guy you know? Like what drew him to do that.” You sip your tea and look back a the mountain of a man in your kitchen. You give him a warm smile and he just looks down at you. He set the kitchen knife he had with him on the table. Too curious about where this would go to kill you. “Did you make that mask yourself?” You ask. He nods and you light up. “Oh I love crafty men. I made some masks too for this sfx gig I had for a movie. I do it on the side because I don’t make much money from it but it’s so much fun. I really like when I get to use the fake blood. Something about it just looks so pretty. Oh and there’s this edible kind that tastes like chocolate. I was in a low budget one of those movies as a little side character who got a ax to the forehead.” You keep going on and on and Michael just sits there listening. The urge to kill you fading slowly.  

Billy Loomis 

I feel like if he took a liking to you he’d start to low key stalk you. Like find out where you like to go and stuff and like find where you’re most vunrable. 

He’d plan out a way to kill you specially and you’d ruin it by like complimenting him and he’s just caught so off guard. 

You walk down the back alley your step sister told you that would get you to school quicker when you trip on something. Before you hit the ground someone’s there to stop you. You don’t see the knife in his back pocket as you stand up and face him. He’s got glowing brown eyes and short brown hair. He looks so charming. “Watch out there hun don’t wanna get hurt.” He says. All you can do is stupidly nod back and smile. 

“Yeah um good thing a handsome guy like you caught me. I’m Y/N.” You say. He’s a bit shocked by the compliment but keeps his cool. 

“I’m Billy. I noticed you around school this week. You new or something?” He asks. You nod. 

“I am yeah. I’ve been looking for someone to help me like navigate this town. My dad recently remarried and we moved out here. I would really appreciate if a cute boy like you helped me learn my way around here.” He flushes a bit pink and smiles.  

“Well let me help you out then.” He grabs your hand and you smile. The two walk on, talking and laughing.

Vincent Sinclair

I feel like you’d see him on accident. Like you’re at the house of wax and he’s upstairs on accident and you’re just try to talk to him.

He’d be so confused about why you like him but he’d get this feeling he should keep you around.

He’ll use basic sign language and probably write stuff down.

You open the door to the House of wax in this small town. Looking around you find very realistic wac sculptures. Everything is made out of wax. “ Hello?” You ask looking around. You walk into what looks like a dining room. You notice a big man with long black hair. The left side of his face looks off but you’re still entranced by his beauty. “Hello, I’m sorry I’m just looking around,” You notice wax all over him, “Did you make these?” You ask. He nods. You smile and look around.

“They’re really good man. Are you Vincent?” You ask. He nods again. “Your brother Lester mentioned you. Talked about a pair of knives he made you. I must say you’re a lot more handsome then I was expecting.” He freezes unsure what to do. No ones ever flirted with him before. “Can you talk?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Oh can you sign? I know a little.” He nods and signs ‘Are you going to hurt me’. You shake your head. “Of course not. I’m Y/N. You live in a lovely town Vincent. You’re very talented.”

‘Thank you.’ He signs. ‘You can stay here, if you want.’ He signs. “Oh thank you, I’m hitch hiking around so a place to stay would be nice. I just need a permanent place. Maybe near here. It’s peaceful out here.” ‘Very quiet. Not many people.’ He signs. You smile. “I’m desperate for a quiet place to stay. Especially if there’s cute guys like you.” The last urge to kill you faded right there. He doesn’t necessarily trust you, just something about you stops him from hurting you.

#slashers #horror #billy loomis #michael myers #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x y/n #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #slashers x reader #slasher comfort

[the-slasher-madame]

So I’m sneaking my phone out rn because dear lord my dysphoria is so bad. I was wonder if you could do the Sinclair brother, Thomas and RZ Michael helping a ftm s/o dealing with dysphoria? Thank you so much

I am so so sorry :(

I'm genderfluid, but I don't feel a whole lot of dysphoria, but what I have felt was horrible. And most of my friends experience it and it hurts watching them hurt. I'm sorry dear heart, I'll do my best to have a present for you <33333

TW/Notes: gender dysphoria, trans masc/trans man reader, mentions of violence (it's slashers, what do y'all expect?), cursing (but I think y'all are used to that by now lol), probably OOC but again, that's just how I roll here, let me know if I missed anything!!

Bo Sinclair:

Poor thing will take a while to understand

While I am 10000% in the camp that headcannon him as bi or pan, and I think Vinny is some shade of not-cis, Bo is still new here. And a little outdated

HOWEVER, he will defend your honor like a rabid dog. He'll hear someone misgender you and will kill them, brutally, slowly, and will not allow them to be waxified. He gets so pissed at himself when he messes up on your pronouns

Along with all that, I think he would be a little confused and not understand dysphoria. He's like "you said yer a boy, whyoncha feel like it?"

If that's the final straw and you start crying, his entire thought process is 'shit shit shit shitshitshIT'

He hates when you cry and he wants to put himself in the Wax Chair when he makes you cry

I love the idea of this man comforting me while I cry and shushing me

ANYWAYS

Once you explain that your brain is a little bitch as well as the fact that your body just feels wrong sometimes, he understands a bit better; he understands very well what it's like to feel that your body is wrong

He tries so hard to help you on days that it gets unbearable. He makes sure that if you bind, it's safely and whatever you bind with is clean. He steals every piece of masc clothing from the victims (even if it's definitely not the right size). He helps you keep your hair styled how you want (bringing in Vincent to help).

Bo would also help with when you needed to shower but didn't want to look at yourself. A couple of candles and himself, of course, to try to solve the issues

He's also there for all the hardest times, when you just wanted to cry. He always had reassurances ready for you, and never failed to remind you that you were his man

Vincent Sinclair:

I think he understands the most

I am firmly of the belief he goes by he/they, and I won't take criticism

Or is a gender non-conforming man, or non-binary, or demiboy

I think y’all get what I’m saying, he’s a masculine entity but they aren’t a man

He’s the best for helping you feel comfortable

He is the King of soft, god I fucking love them

anyways

He might mess up once or twice, but he’s like really good at getting your pronouns right. Sometimes it feels like they’re more accurate than you

If you don’t want to see feminine clothing? He will actually burn any feminine clothing in the house

While I absolutely agree that they’re co-dependent on Bo, Vincent will not hesitate to lose they’re shit on either brother for misgendering you or being rude. This man would eat straight wax for you ngl

ALWAYS READY TO LISTEN!! If he smells the most tiny bit of sadness or bad feelings, he has a cup of tea (or your favorite drink) prepped and a spot in his lap that hey, wouldn’t ya know, is you sized

They will do anything in his power to learn to make you binders. And he will not let you wear it for too long. Like exactly 8 hours later they materialize at your shoulder and politely ask you to take it off

They could and will spend days showering you in affirmations and validations. You are his man, their handsome boyfriend, and he loves telling you as much

His art of you is always perfect, always shows how you feel, and he tries so hard to show you how he feels and how he sees you in his art. However, they’re also understanding if it’s not helpful when you feel super dysphoric

Another one that’s more than happy to shut off the lights and shower you. They won’t let you lift a finger, pampering your body with all possible bath products in the house

I think they’d both sew you clothing and let you pick out anything you want from the victims. Would also threaten his brothers to buy you things in town

Did I mention they get exceptionally brutal with people who misgender you?? Like I love the idea he get’s very brutal and cruel in his art, but dear sweet jesus on a breadstick anyone who hurts you, physically or emotionally, will be kept alive for weeks and will die horrifically

Loves styling your hair <3, cause he definitely has to cut and shape the hair of finished tourists

Lester Sinclair:

I love this himbo, like I don’t care what anyone says he’s sweeter than sugar

Also like the idea of him having a dark side

Ok moving on to the, you know, request

Y’all remember how in Steven Universe, Blue said “she prefers to be called Steven”? That’s the vibe I get from him. He’s confused, but he’s got the spirit

ofc he makes mistakes, but he tries so so hard and feels so so bad when he messes up

It hurts him seeing you have to feel this way, definitely the boyfriend who cries when you cry

Firmly believes in the healing power of cuddles. Somehow cuddles you extra hard when you feel really dysphoric

I think I might’ve seen this somewhere else, but he when you’re with him and he’s picking up tourists, he will stop the car if someone misgenders you. Full stop, brake petal to the floor, full body turn towards whoever just spoke, and pulls out the Southern Politeness. The politeness that us southerners use when we want to kill someone

“Well, ma’am, if you’d like to keep ridin in my truck you best apologize to the young man who accompanies me.” He’s used to people being bitchy to him, but will not tolerate it directed towards you. I fully believe he has put people out of the truck, driven to Bo, and told him there were some target practice out about a mile or two away. Will refuse to let the twins waxify the rude tourists

Listens to you and tries his best to validate you, even if he doesn’t completely understand. Will do anything to make you feel better

Always always always buys you masculine clothing, even splurging on you (even if you insist he needs some clothes, he’ll just say, “naw, darlin’, I’m jus fine.”

NO HE’D LOVE TO SHARE CLOTHES WITH YOU IF HE COULD!!!!

I’m a slut for close intimacy that isn’t necessarily sexual, so he’d be more than happy to shower with you in the dark or make you the BIGGEST bubble bath possible

NOOO HE’D SIT JONESY DOWN AND EXPLAIN THAT “Y/N’s a boy, alright Jonesy? He’s one of the boys and we gotta treat him as such”

Does worry about when you bind, he’s read up on it and he worries about you getting hurt, but either way he will send you friendly reminders when it’s been 8 hours and very carefully washes what you bind with

Thomas Hewitt:

The Hewitt family is one of the few Christian families that live in Texas I would love to be around (I’m sorry, I have a thing against Texas and I’m suspicious of most Christians concerning my status as a queer person with a uterus in America)

Ok yea, it takes the whole family a little while to get used to everything, but Thomas and Luda are accepting and try to understand. They will also criminally assault Hoyt if he is dick

If Hoyt misgenders you, and if he does it on purpose, he better pray. Thomas will turn on his Extra Scary Mode and Luda will pull out a cast iron skillet she has set aside specifically for dealing with Hoyt

Thomas might make mistakes, but at the same time he doesn’t talk so I think that would affect how often he accidentally uses the wrong pronouns

Also, how much interaction does he have with gender and social norms?? I could see him not understanding why people think it’s a bad thing

Someone is a transphobic wad of dick cheese? Won’t eat that person, straight up won’t. Hell, he might not leave enough to eat

He keeps an eye on you and your binding, but I don’t think he’d be like Vincent and come forth from the shadows to remind you it’s been eight hours (at first at least). But he would try to find patterns to make you binders and makes sure they’re washed properly

He is a master seamster. Sews you clothes that are masculine and that fit and flatter you perfectly. You swear he uses magic when sewing you clothes because how can they possibly be this fitting and help you look so much more masculine??

Will do anything you need to feel better, from cuddles to clothes to tea. Would try to find advice from Luda on how to help you, and she’d tell him what kind of stuff usually helps people feel better, but she doesn’t know exactly what to do either

Would treat you in baths and showers, doing his best to distract you from how you feel with your body

He may not understand completely, but whew boy does he know what it’s like to have body issues. He understands that much, at least, and he aches that you feel similarly to the way he has his whole life

He doesn’t speak often, or like at all, but he’d give you a few words of validation and reassurance that he knows you’re a man, and that he sees you as a masculine individual, and that he loves you no matter what

Feels comfortable enough now to explore his gender

RZ! Michael Myers:

While this man is by no means a child, I don’t think he has a full grasp of gender (at least the way other people think he should)

Like come on y’all, he was locked up as a six year old child and didn’t get the whole experience of ya know,,, being raised (I will forever quote the person who said that Loomis’ degree was written in crayon, cause they were right)

So anyways I don’t think he really understands gender as like the rigid structure so many people think of it as. Like I know for me gender is just kinda weird. Like some sea animal with no shape, or mystery meat that shivers when you poke it

And thus he doesn’t understand transphobia at all. Like bro how does a person telling you their gender affect your life that much??

And along those lines, he may not fully understand dysphoria. His thinking is “you know you are boy, you have told me (the most important person in your life) that you are boy, so therefore you are boy”

THAT BEING SAID MY RZ MIKEY IS SOMFT AND TRYING HIS GODDAMNED BEST ALRIGHT?!!!?!??! He uses his lil 6th sense for gauging emotions to keep an eye on you and is by your side the second he detects a change

Bless his heart he’s a cat. Stares at you, will try bringing you things, and just shows up when you cry. He could be on the other side of the city, but he knows when you cry and will hightail it home

You have to warm him up to cuddles, but once you do his is always always ready

He kind of assumes you know how best to handle binding, but he will still keep an eye out and start to nudge you if you’ve had it on too long

This man doesn’t clean, he’s no help cleaning your binder, BUT he will bring you masculine clothing from a victims house...you just may need to use some lemon juice or hydrogen peroxide on it because I don’t think it was originally that shade of red

I think he’s more a bath person, and would love to try and return the kindness you show him by giving you a bath when you feel dysphoric. Might add too many bubbles, but he figures the more bubbles = the easier to hide under

Back to transphobia: he either kills them especially brutally, or really quickly because they don’t deserve the time of day. It depends on how badly they pissed him off. If someone misgenders you on purpose, you will see their face on the news the same day Mikey comes back with his coveralls soaked and pieces of flesh spattered onto his figure

He’s the kind of guy that you have to show him what to do at first to be helpful and validating, but after that he’s good to go. Give him a break he was never properly socialized as a child :(

Also understands the body issues (very few slashers don’t if I’m being honest) and will try to show you what helps him: making masks. He can be persuaded to extend that to making art

Another one that’s a masculine entity but not entirely a man in the traditional sense. He too thinks gender is a shivering mystery meat ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Alright that’s what I’ve got!!! Again I’m so sorry Ziggy :((( I hope you feel better, and if it helps any you’re definitely one of my slasher tumblr crushes <333333

I will also brutally murder anyone who misgenders you, just hit me up and I’ll grab my bat

#slasher #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #slasher x trans reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair comfort #slasher comfort #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair comfort #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair comfort #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt comfort #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #rz michael myers comfort

[tinalbion]

Hi! Can I please request a smut fic with Rusty Nail? When I saw that you wrote for him, I was so excited because he is so underrated!

Hey there! I've been thinking about this for so long and I am finally here with good news, I am gracing you with more Rusty smut! Something the world desperately needs, I know I do! Thank you for being patient, I know it was a hell of a wait, but I am back as much as I can be!

Rusty is very underrated and he deserves so much more love than what he gets. So I hope this will suffice for the time being! 💙✨

"I Don't Want To Miss You Like I Do" ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rusty Nail x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Minors, DO NOT interact! Masturbation, vaginal fingering, cowgirl, oral, penetration, creampie

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had been feeling extra lonely since Rusty had been out doing his job to support the both of you, so with your mind occupied, you figured you'd have some personal one-on-one time. Too bad you didn't know you weren't alone.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

Whenever Rusty was gone for weeks at a time, that part didn't bother you in the slightest, it paid the bills and was a necessary trade-off for affording all he could provide for you. You didn’t even think he would give up what he loved doing, and you’d never want him to, but what you hated the most was the loneliness.

You'd grown accustomed to having him around, so when that first time back on the job came around, you were slightly nervous, but living in his larger home was nice and much more peaceful than staying in your city apartment. It gave you things to do with a place so large, new things to discover about Rusty that he had displayed around the walls, but for such a larger place compared to your apartment, it was painfully quiet after a while of living there. Rusty wanted you to feel at home here since you decided to stay with him, so he tried his best to do what he could to bring more of you out within the confines of the walls. He offered to set up a room just for you if you wanted it, sort of like an office or a crafting area, and he'd arrange it to suit your needs. You spent time in there when he was away, fiddling around with whatever you had set up, and you just mostly liked to sit in there and read, but today you were feeling impatient, so you placed the book down and let out an irritable sigh. 

You weren't upset with him, far from it, you were upset with yourself for being so codependent on this man. He brought out a side to you that you didn't know existed, and you were starting to feel that feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever you began to think of Rusty. It would lead from missing him and wondering what he was thinking, to wondering if he'd ever let you fuck him in his truck. You sure hoped he would at some point, you needed to ride him while he was in that seat of his–

“Oh god,” you grumbled and stood up from the chair, then you decided it was best to go and take a shower. Wash away your sinful thoughts, that's what you needed to do. You pulled yourself away from the room and weaved your way around to the shared room you had, then rummaged through the closet, your mind desperately trying to bury the thoughts you were having. 

The trickling of water felt great as soon as it hit your body, your muscles relaxed under the warmth of it, so you cranked it up just a little more to get the temperature just a bit higher. A smile grew across your face as the water soaked your hair, ran down your back, and you stood there to allow yourself just a few moments to gather your thoughts. But as soon as you closed your eyes, his face was there. You could imagine him walking into the bathroom as soon as he heard the water start running, opening the door, and just leaning against the frame, because he’d know you heard him, so you’d peek out. 

“What’re you up to, sugar?” 

You’d scoff and look up at him as you peeked through the shower curtain meekly. “Taking a shower, why?”

“Just wonderin’ why you didn’t invite me in.”

Rusty was like that sometimes; he would want to be wherever you were, wanting to touch you in every place he possibly could reach. You weren’t opposed to it, you encouraged it even, but something about his gentle touch when he was in one of those moods always made you feel empty without him here. Your fingertips ghosted over your lips and slid down to your neck -his favorite spot to kiss you- as you stood beneath the running water still, smiling to yourself. 

The impure thoughts that took over your mind were willing you to slide those fingers lower and lower, smiling as your eyes remained closed until you gently dipped them between your legs. Your vivid memory of the way his large, calloused hands handled you so well flooded back, and the way he curled those two fingers into that sweet spot made you buckle at the knees. Yours weren’t as good as his, but they’d get the job done. You let out a small moan, your breath hitched as you pictured Rusty pinning you against the cold tiles of the shower. 

“Easy there, girl, you’re so eager. Gonna take my time with you.”

Just thinking about his deep voice as smooth as pouring a glass of whiskey, it tickled your brain in the right ways when he spoke you through everything he did. Most times he'd tease you, edging you to the point you were a shaking, sobbing mess. Other times, he would talk you through it and watch you as your face contorted from feeling pure bliss to feeling complete frustration.  

“Please, Rusty, I wanna cum so bad,” you'd whine. 

“Oh you will if I let'cha,” he'd respond smoothly, knowing you couldn't do much to change his mind. 

Your head leaned back as the water sprayed down your chest, you couldn't help but grab your breast and squeeze it, playing gently with your hardened nipple. God, you needed him so badly, and you wondered when he'd be back home, back in your bed. You wanted to feel his mouth between your legs, feeling the way his facial hair rubbed against the inside of your thighs sent you into a frenzy every time, and he knew what to do to get you to cum on command. 

You wished he was here to pick you up and place you in the bed, but you had to make due until he came back. With a sigh, you removed your fingers from yourself and washed them off, then stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you. The sting of sadness set in a little as you shuffled to the large bed in the center of the master bedroom, seeing how painfully empty his side was. He was already gone for a couple of weeks, and it had been a while since you last called to check on him, so maybe you would do that to ease your loneliness. But you felt so pent up and needed to feel a release in one way or another, so maybe you'd call afterward. 

As you crawled into the middle of your bed, you laid on your back and sprawled out, one leg lifted as you placed your fingers between your already slick folds, thinking of the large, rough man of your dreams. He would know how to take care of you, it's like he was easily attuned to your needs and what you preferred, and his fingers fit so well into your hole. You moaned out softly, your body moved as you rolled against your hand, wanting to feel his thick digits stretching you so well. The room was filled with your moans and wet sounds from between your legs, and you pulled those mental images to mind that made you want to descend into your orgasm, already so eager to feel the sweet relief so you could finally relax. 

What you hadn't been paying attention to was the front door opening and closing. 

Rusty had tried to call you twice, but your phone was still sitting in your office space beside the book you were reading, so you had no indication that Rusty was going to surprise you by coming back a little earlier than expected. He heard your moan from downstairs, his ears perked up and tuned into his surroundings. At first, he was a little worried by your lack of reaching out, but it seemed he'd caught you at the perfect time. He was missing you while he was away, and he already felt the growing excitement in his jeans. Slowly but surely, he made his way up the stairs, making sure he didn't tip you off just yet, and the sounds coming from you only sounded more enticing the closer he’d gotten. 

He had finally got to the doorway and he peeked inside, watching as you lay there spread out on your shared bed, touching yourself as your eyes were squeezed shut. You were pumping your fingers in and out, curling into that sweet spot as you moaned out Rusty's name over and over, wishing he was there to take care of you. It was hard for him to keep watching and do nothing, he had to have you, he couldn't wait for much longer.

His large hand slowly pushed the door open as you continued, no sound came from the hinges which would have given away his position. Instead, he stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with one arm keeping him in place while the other slid into his front pocket. Damn, you looked good like this, he was always a watcher, but never to this degree. 

“Well, damn, if I woulda known you were havin’ fun without me, I woulda came home sooner,” he said suddenly, his voice still low and deep. 

Your eyes snapped open as you removed your fingers from yourself, the sudden shock of the fear of being caught electrified your nerves. But after the initial shock, you stared up at him and smiled with a hint of embarrassment. 

“R-Rusty! You're home!” You wanted to run to him to greet him, but your soaked hand kept you from doing so. “You're back early.”

He stepped up toward the bed, his head cocked to the side as his hands managed to find his belt as he began to undo it. “Well, I wanted to surprise you, but it seems you surprised me first. What'chu doin’?” 

Your face was most definitely red as you closed your legs, poorly hiding the fact that You were just touching yourself. “Uh, I was just… I was thinking of you all day, I was missing you… and I got caught up…” You confessed with a blush in your cheeks. 

“Missin’ me that much means a lot to little ol’ me, sugar.” He stepped up to the edge of the bed and without missing a beat, he grabbed your legs and pulled you toward him, which caused you to yelp out a little in surprise, but you were now face to face with him. He smiled down at you beneath the brim of his aging trucker hat, his eyes bore deep into yours. “Havin’ all the fun without me, ain't you?”

“I wasn't having that much fun, I was wishing you were here with me,” you explained, staring up at the large man. “But… you're here now, and well, I haven't finished…”

“Oh, so you want me to help you with that, huh?” He asked with a smirk, his large hands still resting on your ankles. “And so what if I do help you?” He asked playfully. “What do I get out of this if you finish?”

You knew he wanted you just as bad as you needed him, and he wanted you to work for it now that he caught you in the act. 

“Couldn't keep those pretty little fingers away, just had to get impatient, huh?” He chuckled as he lowered his body onto you, massive in size compared to you. 

You bit your lip as you reached up for his neck, wanting to play with the hair that peeked out from beneath the hat. He stopped just above you, hovering enough that if you were to lean up, he would be just out of reach. “Rusty, kiss me, please?”

He just chuckled in response, that smile you fell for immediately peeking from beneath the hat. “Oh I don't think so, you gotta earn that, sweetheart.”

You were about to whine in protest, just wanting to dote on the man now that he was back, but you barely had time to recover when he lowered his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing it and biting at your sensitive flesh that was oh-so close to your heat. The gasp that escaped was loud and sharp, but you soon turned into a whining mess the more he teased you. 

“Rustyyyyy~” You whined as you tugged at his hair, causing the hat to shift and fall off to the side of the bed. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it.”

“You mean you didn't mean to get caught, is that it?” 

Your face was flushed at the realization that he was right, you meant to pleasure yourself but wanted to get it out of the way so you could hold off a while longer for him to get home. 

“Been so greedy ever since you were fucked,” he huffed and lowered his mouth back onto your thigh. “Give you a taste and now you're fuckin’ cock hungry.”

His lips kissed your slick folds over and over, just missing the mark of paying attention to your throbbing clit, and you swallowed a pathetic whimper that died in your throat as soon as he plunged two of his fingers into you. You hissed at the feeling of those calloused digits, curling into you and causing your walls to flutter around him. Your back arched as you rolled your hips into his hand, feeling that sweet friction that hit you in just the right way, you wanted to cry with how much you've missed him. 

“Oh my god, Rusty, please, keep going…” you sighed, your lead lolled off to the side as you removed the towel from your top half, and then you began to massage your breast as he kissed and touched you.

“You better not cum till I tell you to,” he warned in that deep honeyed voice. “Else you ain't gettin’ what you want.”

“I-I don't know if I can hold back–”

“Then you better learn real quick, sweetheart, you ain't gonna like the punishment you get if you don't.” 

You loved when he urged you, spoke to you like he did, the gravelly voice he got with you was so sexy that you could have fun just listening to him talk. You shifted and couldn't help but continue to fuck yourself on his hand, whimpering as you were stretched so good with just his fingers. Rusty then slid his tongue around, coating it in your wetness as he continued to finger you, gently playing with your clit. He sucked at it, watching as you went from a whiney mess to a blubbering mess. You twitched and your body jolted, feeling that intense pleasure on your clit, getting the friction you so desperately craved. 

“Oh, fuck, Rusty! Please!” you begged, your knees shaking as he held one of your legs up behind your knee. 

You urged him to continue, so he obliged and removed his fingers, to which you cried at the loss of feeling him inside of you. But now those had been replaced with that broad tongue, lapping away at your essence, wanting to taste the sweetheart he so desired in his absence. You could feel his facial hair scratch and tickle at your thighs, the overwhelming feeling of his stubble, his tongue, and his large hand gripping at your leg so hard was a lot to handle while your orgasm was building. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck–” You were at a loss for words with how well you were being treated, you'd loved how he got you so sinfully wet.

Rusty smiled as he brought his lips up to your aching nub and began to swirl his tongue around it before he began to suck at it. You cried out and thrust your hips upward, pushing yourself further against his mouth as if you could get him any closer to you, all while your hands were clutching at the comforter beneath you. 

You were so close to feeling a sweet release until his mouth harshly pulled away from you, leaving you feeling empty and aching. “Rusty, no! W-Why would you do that?”

“Told you you couldn't cum without my say so, and as much as I wanna taste you, I want you to cum while I'm inside you,” he explained, followed by a dark chuckle. 

It didn't take him long to crawl back toward you, one hand guiding himself to push against your folds, his head pushing against your clit. You squirmed and rocked against him, trying to feel him slide against your lips, just wanting anything more than the emptiness you felt right now. 

Your eyes closed, your brow furrowed, and you moaned every time he pushed against you just enough to feel just a little relief only to pull away again, and it was driving you insane. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him with a look of pure frustration. 

“Rusty, pleaseeeee,” you begged him again, but you regretted doing so as soon as he pulled away from you. “Wait, what are–” 

He pushed himself up, then with a quick turn and an arm slung around your waist, you flew up against him, landing against his chest as he quickly positioned himself so you were straddling his lap as he sunk into the mattress. 

“Told you, sweetheart, you're gonna work for it.”

Your lips suddenly felt dry as you could feel his hard cock twitch beneath you. He was giving you the chance to ride him, how could you refuse him this? Your hands hold onto his shoulders to gain some leverage as you move yourself a little higher, allowing yourself to line up perfectly with him. Slowly you sunk onto him, the girth of his cock stretched you so well, it made you let out such a low sigh as your entire body shivered with the feeling of how much you needed this. 

“Oh my god, Rusty,” you groan out, your hands still placed on his shoulders. “Fuck, missed you so much while you were gone.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a wicked smirk, his hands gripped your waist as he pushed himself deeper inside of you until he bottomed out, and then those calloused fingers slid down to your thighs. 

Your hands immediately reached up and snaked through his hair, grabbing and pulling at it as his hands held you by your ass, allowing you to bounce on his cock at your own speed, but he could easily change that in an instant if he decided to. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him, but he leaned back a little and smiled, chuckling at the disapproval plastered across your face. 

“Told you sugar, you gotta earn that. Need you to cum on me first, now start movin’,” he huffed as he leaned back against the pillow, watching you with interest as you began to bounce on him. 

He helped a little, lifting you every so often to get you to fall harder into his lap, your skin slapping in a beautiful rhythm as you cried out his name over and over again, but your voice hitched when he slipped his hand between the both of you to rub his thumb against your clit. Your fingers clasped the back of his head and neck, your nails grazing his skin while he continued to gauge your reaction. 

“Oh fuck, Rusty-” you gasp.

His thumb rubbed in increasingly tighter albeit sloppy circles, and that only caused the pleasant tingle between your legs to grow with a deeper intensity. Rusty then pressed the pad of his thumb harshly against your throbbing nub while he thrusted his hips upward at the same time, watching you as you were coming undone as he watched you intensely. 

“Yeah, you’re doin’ a good job there, wonder if I should let you cum now…” He chuckled as he saw your eyes roll back once he jerked his hips upward, hitting that spot in such a delicious manner.

“Please, oh my god, PLEASE-”

“Please what, sweetheart?” 

You shivered and bit your lip, wanting to stifle your moan so you could form a singular sentence. “Please, I wanna cum so bad. Please, let me cum…”

Rusty’s grip tightened as his smile widened. “Atta girl, love hearin’ you beg for it.” His hand pulled away from your possibly bruised hip as he reached up, his massive palm now wrapped around your throat as he pounded into you harder, faster, all while still stimulating your clit. 

You cried out, your whines and moans drowned out by the blasphemous sounds that came from your slick-soaked pussy. He relished in the sounds you made, you knew he wanted you to be as vocal as you possibly could, even in public when he would make sure you knew who you belonged to. His hands released your throat and moved away from your clit, then slid around to rest on your ass, gripping your cheeks hard as he began to fuck himself into you. He’d give you the release you so desperately craved, and the release he needed to lose himself in being away from you for all that time. 

“Rusty, I won’t be able to hold it...” you warned through gritted teeth, your hands resting firmly on his chest as you clawed your nails against his skin. 

“Guess I could let you cum on me, then,” Rusty offered through his heaving breath, still smiling up at you. 

Several more hard thrusts against your aching cunt and you were going to be ruined in his lap, you cried out while he continued to plow into you, making you take every inch you could of him as your body tensed and finally released that pleasure. You couldn’t even take the time to ride out your orgasm, Rusty was relentless and continued to take you at his unyielding pace, wanting to be able to cum deep inside of you. His thighs tensed with each roll of his hips, his body straining beneath you as your walls clenched around him.

Rusty wrapped his arms around your waist and buried himself to the hilt inside of you, coming hard as spurts of his hot seed coated your insides, his deep honeyed voice released a guttural growl as he gripped you hard. It throbbed as he held you in place, but you were too tired to move much anyway, so you allowed him to use you as he deemed fit as you lay limp in his arms.

You were both straining to catch your breath as you both lay there, your body now collapsed on top of him while his arms released the firm grip on your waist and just draped over you gently. Your head was resting on his shoulder as you attempted to catch your breath, and Rusty just lay there with his hand stroking your hair softly, rewarding you for your good behavior with the softness only you really got to see. He wouldn’t force you off after, he enjoyed the affection you showered him with during moments like these, so he allowed you to remain splayed on top of him. 

“That was amazing…” You sighed happily, your eyes closed as you listened to his heart beating. You couldn’t find the heart to pull away from him, even if he’d been gone for a while, you just wanted to enjoy it with him, no matter how brief. 

His arms wrapped around you as if to give you a hug that he hadn’t thought of giving you till that very moment, so you moved your head lazily to look up at him, your chin resting against his chest. “You still haven’t given me that kiss yet,” you huffed and pushed out your bottom lip. 

Rusty just let out a low chuckle as he always did, but he pushed himself up and slid his hand around your neck, tangling in the sweat-soaked hairs as he pulled you into a heated kiss. When you pulled away, you smiled up at him and felt content with everything in the world now. 

“Missed you, too, sugar. Next time you’re feelin’ lonely like that, I suggest you call me up.”

“And how will that help me exactly?” 

Rusty just laughed again and slid his hand down to your ass, giving it a firm slap. “Oh, I’ll think of a way.”

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