#brahms heelshire imagines

[slasherwife]

Hiii :)

I was wondering if I could request the slashers reaction to their S/O being insecure about their freckles? Their face is covered with different shades and some even overlapping of freckles. They have even tried covering them up with foundation but they always seem to show through. Thank you! :D

yes my dove!! i’m really sorry abt the long wait i hope this is good 🥲🌷

Slashers with an S/O with freckles

summary you the beautiful y/n have been blessed with gorgeous freckles, like raindrops on your ethereal skin 💞 your slasher husband finds them so angelic on you, but sadly you disagree, and try to cover them up!! slasher husband not happy :(🥺🌷

warnings female pronouns!

~

thomas

sweet creature, your freckles are what his dreams are made of. he wishes to kiss each one so that their wearer might know how deeply he loves her. he connects them like constellations when you guys are together and you don’t notice. he sees and names each one because ever freckled star is so unique from the last. he adores and worships your freckles to say the least💞🌷

thomas loves deeply with a tender passion, every bit of you. and your freckles are what give you the most character, they are what captivated him when he first saw you. sun shining behind your head like a halo, a soft smile and those gentle freckles layered onto your ethereal face and shoulders, he thought he had strayed into a dream😖💞

it would absolutely break him, if he knew you were trying to hide them out of shame. thomas knows very well the pain of low self esteem, thomas self mutilated his own face because of how much he hated how he looked💔 he would never in a trillion years want you to go through that same kind of pain, even if you were only using makeup to cover them up. 😣🪷

he would go to his knees once he knew what was happening, holding your hands and begging you to stop what you were doing. while your hands were in his comically large ones, you would see his eyes holding the utmost sadness in them, almost making you tear up unexpectedly😣💕 “don’t cover up, please my y/n.” he spoke, which was an extremely rare occurrence.

jason

he could never miss your absolutely ethereal freckled stars. jason isn’t one to really pay attention to physical attributes, but with you, it was different. you were an angel. sent straight from heaven to be with him. to say he wasn’t utterly captivated by your outer beauty as much as your inner beauty, was an understatement😣💕🪷

he’d be the one to want to trace your freckles, but be too afraid to hurt you. jason is an extremely gentle being when he wants to be, but he overthinks very much and can’t trust himself around you as a result :( 💕😭. until he’s comfortably enough and you help him through, he will fantasize about your soft supply skin under the decrepit pads of his fingers, and count the stars on your skin from a healthy distance💞😣

he instantly wants to know who made you want to cover up your freckles. the stars on your skin are gifts of the divine, who on earth would be so jealous and malicious as to make you think otherwise? jason would like to take it up with them for making his angel goddess feel like this. no one would make it out alive🥺💞

you say the girls in the magazine don’t have freckles, which is why you wanted to cover your up. jason is livid about the disgusting vermin showing off their bodies in the magazine, and hates how he cannot hurt them for hurting you😣💕 he can tell his anger isn’t helping anyone, so he just lets you crawl into his arms while he wills himself as careful as possible to graze his knuckles softly against your cheek, admiring all the pretty dots on your angelic skin. his gaze was enough to show that if the outer world didn’t like your freckles, jason lives for them🥹💞💕

michael

again like jason, michael doesn’t really pay attention to physical attributes at all. he might when he’s aroused and steals a good playboy magazine. but when he met you, things turned around. he found you beautiful. pretty. captivating. he’s only felt aroused by some women, but he’s never felt that way about a person. he loves you, in his own toxic way, maybe. he sees you as his mate, his parter, who he found because of fate and circumstance. you’re his partner who he would absolutely burn down the world for, maim and kill, do anything for🥹💗

it’s hard to see into michael’s mind, but i believe he thinks it was your freckles that first made him feel that you were beautiful. he thought your freckles made you pretty. he thought you were beautiful, because of them. and to think you’d try to cover them up almost feels like he’s being denied some of the most beautiful things about you, and he feels betrayed as your lover.

he catches you in the act, sitting on the floor in front of a mirror, smearing makeup onto them. he grabs your wrist before you could make another steak down your cheek, and you look up to michael heavy breathing against his mask, staring down at you. he is confused to say the least, but in a way too, he understands why you are doing it. he tries to go down to your level, sitting on his knees while he uses his sleeve to wipe the makeup from your face, wanting to see you beautiful constellations that he loves so deeply😖💞💕

brahms

to begin, brahms being the hot adult child he is, will throw a tantrum once he finds you messed up your face. your face is for him y/n!! don’t go covering up things that shouldn’t be covered up 😣💕 it throws him off, shows him there’s a change in his usual schedule and he doesn’t like it. plus his baby’s freckles are his favorite thing ever! he can’t count them when they’re all covered up my love😇💞

when he first ever saw you, he nearly collapsed. you were the most beautiful creature he ever saw or could dream up, ever. he loves every part about you. you are his dream come true. and to think you would want him!! he will die happy because of this my darling🌷💕 please don’t cover up something to precious to him!!🥺

he will be angry and throw a fit. gosh y/n you’re making him fix this now? well since you’re so cute he’ll let it slide, just sit still. he gets a clean wash rag and begins wiping away the makeup. nope!! don’t move, not til he’s done😇💞once your tears have dried and he deems you back to your beautiful gorgeous natural self he adores, he will kiss the tip of your nose and pinch your cheeks. hell then giggle and provoke you to chase him through the house in a game of hide and seek 🥺💞

bo

bo is really the only one who’s genuinely confused as to what motivates you to cover up your freckles. he understands the purpose of makeup (to an extent😀), but your freckles are a normal occurrence in your skin, why would you want to essentially delete them from yourself? he will blushingly admit that they make you look pretty anyway 🥺💕you’d have to explain why you are doing this to him 😭 he doesn’t not have the brain capacity to understand why you are covering up your gorgeous freckles.

bo had always not so secretly thought your freckles were so g-d damn cute, and seeing them crease with every smile and laugh you let out, and the ones on your forehead fold when you were surprised or focused, he was made so in love with you it was hard to contain. he believed g-d had taken extra time working on you, for sure. 🌷😭💕

he caught site of your face when he was waiting to go to the bathroom and you were finishing up your makeup. when you went past him, he did a double take, “sweet cheeks? come back here now.” he said, grabbing your sweet face in both his palms examining your newly painted face. “the hell happened to all your dots?” he laughed, searching your eyes for an explanation🥺💕

you explain it to him, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. he doesn’t really know what to say, though he thinks he should tell you something reassuring about your new apparent insecurity, but he’s not very good at comforting people🥲💕 he only asks that you go back and take the makeup off, without sounding demanding, asking gently, which is rare for bo. “why don’t cha take it off for me angel, yeah? you’re just so pretty when i can see all of you.”

vincent

let this man comb his eyes through every part of your face in amazement and shock at your beauty, please gf it’s all he wants to do. vincent has a very keen eye for beauty so the fact that he chose you should be a clear message that you are the most ethereal being ever crossed paths with him🥹💞 vincent more than anyone, worships your freckles. you are just so unique and angelic and perfect. you are his forever muse and he’s absolutely obsessed with you 💗

when i say that thomas begged you not to cover up your freckles, vincent absolutely beseeches you to not cover them up and to let them show. they are just so beautiful on you y/n, my queen goddess y/n, let me stare at you forever😣🌷 vincent just sighs in affection for you whenever he sees your ethereal face with your delightful freckles layering and spotting like rain drops onto your skin. he just simply loves you y/n.

please don’t even try to cover them up my dear, vincent will feel like he’s been betrayed in a way. don’t you ever listen to him y/n? vincent always knows best. your freckles are a beauty unsurpassed about you my darling flower. 💞🌷and that’s fact. if you do, he will so everything in his power to try to convey that your freckles are a blessing and that they shine like stars. he loves them so much and begs you let them show. he only does this, because you are hiding them out of insecurity. he hates this and wants you to proudly show them🥹🌷

regardless of if you listen to him or not, he will want to show you some extra love. he will gently coax you to a peaceful sleep in his arms, stroking your hair with the utmost gentleness and calmness that you fall asleep within minutes🥹🌷 he just wants you to feel safe

[slasherparty]

Hi! do you do male readers? if so, can I please request headcanons for Brahms with a male reader that has an attractive killer alter ego?

(Reader is basically Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde lol)

A short, scrawny, and shy nerd by day, a tall, muscular, and confident sadistic heartthrob by night.

When the mean grocery dude tries to lay a finger on Reader while the sun goes down, both him and Brahms are in for some real fun!

Despite how intimidating Hyde!Reader is, he's still quite gentle with Brahms.

(feel free to delete this ask if you're uncomfortable with writing this)

you can assume all the reader requests i write are neutral / can be interpreted any way, unless stated otherwise! i'll note here: this sounds like a oneshot idea or veering on oc x slasher, which i consider commission territory, so i'll just be doing a loose imagine/headcanon list for this. if you'd like a fuller concept written, particularly regarding the grocery store plot, please consider paying me! thank you! <3

brahms heelshire 🪞 x hyde!reader 💭

brahms has always known that faces are merely masks — he wears his own porcelain one daily. when he meets this hyde-like personality, the darker shadow that slips from your soul, he doesn’t flinch. he gazes at you with a tilt of his head, as though peering at his own reflection in the blackened glass of his being.

you, for all your dark intensity in these moments, speak in a way brahms understands: softly, with a hint of menace woven through mock kindness. it isn’t the words that matter but the energy beneath. brahms doesn’t fear you; instead, he sees a kinship, another creature who treads the borderlands between terror and tenderness.

when this personality surfaces, brahms feels no need to hide (no pun intended). in fact, he grows more trusting, knowing your strength could shield him from the world’s prying eyes. and yet, brahms feels an odd protectiveness — after all, monsters, no matter how gentle, deserve care too.

your intimidating demeanor doesn’t scare brahms; it fascinates him. he’ll often creep closer, studying the sharpness of your movements, the precision of your words, and the way they soften in his presence. your gentleness toward him feels like a secret he’s been let in on, and he hoards it greedily.

on nights when your composed self rests and the other emerges, brahms feels most at peace. he shares his nighttime rituals with you, wordlessly expecting your compliance. together, you walk the house’s dim corridors, brahms clutching his doll-self tightly as your imposing shadow falls across the walls. brahms insists on precise adherence: food must be left on the plate at exactly 7:00 PM, the phonograph’s needle placed gently on a haunting lullaby before bed. when the doll is tucked into its small, immaculate bed, your strong hands, though intimidating, move with reverence to straighten the blanket brahms has fussed over.

when you join in, brahms feels a rare, strange comfort. for all your sharpness and strength, you treat the rituals as sacred, understanding that brahms’s rules are not to be broken. if a step is missed, brahms’s tantrum bubbles to the surface, but you, with surprising patience, redirect his frustration, whispering, “It’s fixed now, little one.” your voice is steady, grounding him, and the rituals continue as if nothing had gone awry.

brahms takes to playing hide-and-seek with you at night specifically, not out of fear but out of fascination. he leaves trails for you to follow, footsteps in dust and whispers in the walls, and waits, almost breathless, for your imposing form to loom nearby. when you finally find him, you never scold. you only smile, something wicked and warm, and brahms basks in it.

brahms whispers his fears to the darker you, things too delicate for daylight. he doesn’t know if you keep these secrets out of loyalty or your own inscrutable reasoning, but he trusts you. you listen, your piercing gaze softening, and offer cryptic reassurances: “Monsters like us don’t scare each other, little one.”

brahms knows that your gentleness is reserved for him alone. he’s seen the strength you wield, how the world can bend to your will. and yet, he’s never afraid. he knows he’s the exception, the quiet in the eye of your storm, and he cherishes the precarious balance you share.

thanks for reading!! 💌

you can find more of my writing here on ao3!

[xcaptain-winterx]

This is so freaking good😮‍💨

day 13 ; mommy kink

↠ brahms heelshire x reader

fandom: the boy word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, slight choking (m receiving)

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Nighttime in the Heelshire mansion was always your favorite. Brahms still preferred the comfort of his spaces within the walls during the days. He only came out when the sun went down, the only light source being the glimmer of the moon.

At night, you could do whatever you wanted to him.

Your hips bounce up and down on top of Brahms, his cock filling you so perfectly. You’re able to move yourself so that the tip of it hits you in just the right spot, causing you to see stars.

“So good for me,” you croon. Brahms’ hands tighten around your hips at your words. His muscles tense as you continue to ride him and his cock throbs inside of you.

Brahms was still mostly clothed, his pants unbuttoned and underwear pulled down to unsheath his cock. His wife beater was doused in his sweat, sticking to his chest.

And that damn mask. No matter what you did, you could never convince him to take it off.

Even now, as he lay trembling underneath you, his soft moans echoed out of the porcelain mask that covered his face. 

You lean over him and ghost your hands over his neck. Brahms cranes his head up, pressing deeper into the bedsheets, almost as if inviting you closer. You let one hand rest on his neck, thumb caressing it gently while your other trails down his chest, finding its way under his top to stroke his stomach. 

Gyrating your hips on his cock, you moan. “Touch my clit, Brahms.”

He obeys immediately, removing a hand off your hip to bring it to your clit. He rubs the area harshly, yet just enough to still make you feel good. He’s been learning, you think.

You smirk at his complacency. “Good boy.” 

A soft gasp, almost inaudible, escapes his lips. If you were anyone else you probably would have not heard it. But you were used to Brahms’ quiet nature and always paying attention to him.

The effect those words had on him were more than you expected. His hips, previously still and under your full control, begin to buck up into you. Through the mask, you can see his eyes widen and pupils dilate. His breathing is even heavier than before, and the hand placed upon his neck can feel as he swallows hard.

“P…please…” he stutters out in a whisper. “Mommy.”

Your ears perk up. Mommy? He’s never called you that before.

“Speak up,” you command. You tighten around him, and he gasps in surprise.

“Mommy!” He whines out, his hips bucking more furiously into you. He thrusts into you harder than he’s ever done. You’ve always been the one to take initiative and control the pace as you sit on top of him.

But it seems as though he’s fueled by this, as if you’ve just discovered an innate pleasure deep inside of him. You can’t help but groan at how much his cock presses into you with the newfound force of his thrusts. Your hands grip him tighter.

If he was going to get so much pleasure out of calling you Mommy, who were you to deny him that?

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say. Brahms pants from under his mask, and his cock seems to grow bigger—if that was even possible. It feels so good inside you.

If his mask was off, you knew that you would be able to see a blush across his features. “Thank you Mommy,” he whimpers out.

Some of his dark curls begin to stick to the top of his mask from all the sweat coming out of him. You push some of them away, getting a better look. Brahms looks up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. All this from your indulgence in his fantasies.

You bounce up and down on his thick cock, much harder than before.

“Mommy!” Brahms calls out. His chest heaves and his cock pulses as he rapidly thrusts up, chasing his release. “Feels so good, Mommy!”

“Does my good boy want to cum?” you coo, mocking him gently. Brahms’ head nods rapidly, soft whines leaving his lips. “Mommy will only let you cum if you help her first.”

He immediately follows your commands. He rubs circles on your clit and holds your hip with his other hand to ground himself as he pistons into you. The bed creaks under the intensity of his thrusts.

Your own back is arched, chasing more of the fullness you feel with Brahms inside you. You tighten your hands around Brahms, returning one to his neck while the other remains on his lower stomach, and he groans lowly.

“There you go, baby. Make Mommy cum.” You can feel how close you are to your peak. Between Brahms' cock pistoning in and out of you, his soft whimpers coming from below, and the thick fingers he has rubbing against your clit, it’s only a matter of seconds before you reach it.

“Oh fuck,” you moan and throw your head back, the multiple areas of pleasure overwhelming you. Your orgasm comes not even seconds later, your pussy even slicker than before with the wetness of it.

When you recover from it, you can see how Brahms' arms tremble, a sign he was fighting back the urge to cum at that very moment.

You smile down at him. “Mommy’ll let you cum now,” you say.

Brahms lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Mommy, thank you,” he repeats over and over as his cum jets out of him and into your pussy. You feel the heat enter you in groves and some of it spill out onto the sides of his cock, wetting it even more as his thrusts persist.

The hand on his neck moves up to his cheek, caressing the area not concealed by the mask.

Brahms’ thrusts finally stop as he comes down from his peak, short gasps escaping his mouth. You lean down over him.

“Mommy’s so proud of you, baby,” you whisper into his ear.

Brahms whimpers in response, and his cock pulses back to life.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their jackets (slasher edition)

I need to write slasher stuff more.... I also need to watch scream like I said I would... and other films... but alas cotl rot is too strong

Characters: Jason, brahms, bubba, Thomas, Michael

Notes: reader is gn, cold weather baby!!, in Michael's bit yoy wear his coveralls because he refuses to throw a jacket over it

CWs: none

JASON

Built like a polar bear, he's so used to the cold that he just shrugs it off as he goes into the woods to get fire wood for you

Actually offers his jacket to you until he can get a fire started to keep you warm- he doesn't want you to get sick! Don't worry about him! Especially if this is zombie Jason, the cold doesn't really.. effect his undead body that much...

Doesn't mind it if you steal his jacket from him, he takes it as you being cold- but if you explain that it's partly because you miss him he feels.. bad.. he didn't mean to take so long in the woods he promises

Even if you said it jokingly he's going to do his best to make up for his brief absence

BUBBA

let me tell you, as someone who lives in texas: the winters get brutal. Incredibly cold, he's definitely got at least one coat somewhere... and even if he only had one he would let you take it

But... please stay close to him by the heater, he knows you probably want to go do something else with him but it's truly too cold to not be able to do much else without freezing in their old house- even worse if this takes place in their new home in the second film... underground

He thinks you look really cute in his coat and he tries to let you know that- hes... a little bashful but you think it's sweet

You both probably end up cuddling into one another under the coat together

THOMAS

Once more: texas gets incredibly cold in the winter depending on the time of year and where you are. He's got a coat somewhere

Not that that he really uses it, built like a polar bear like Jason. He tolerates cold pretty well, hardly seems phased by it.. he's so laser focused on his chores and work around the house that you often find him still working outside

And he's given his coat to you because you have a lower tolerance than him... maybe you can convince him to come snuggle with you under it? Maybe? He'd hate to leave his chores unfinished but he doesn't like saying no to you

Very heavy coat, very thick

MICHAEL

Completely unphased by the cold, he also doesn't have a jacket. The best you can do is take his coveralls when you FINALLY convince him to take them off so they can be washed

Does not like sharing his things, the likelihood of him humoring you after you put them in is low. May actually take them off of you himself... not incredibly rough but there's intention to yoink them back

If you're cold then go get a blanket or you're own jacket... why steal his things without asking?

It completely flies over his head that jacket (or rather clothing) stealing is common for couples

BRAHMS

Move over give him his sweater back he's FREEZING! If he needs to he's going to wear the sweater with you in it!

HATES the cold and he's going to make it everyone else's problem, please don't let him catch a fever reader! Please!

Fire place? Lit. Blankets? Gathered. Sweaters? Worn. You're more likely to see him leave the walls during the colder months so he can snag your body heat, too

Lets it go to his head if you let slip that you stole his sweater because you missed him... hes basically hovering over now- well, more than he did before

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut

♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect

> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed

> It was a lot even for a king bed

> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed

> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep

> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life

> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest

> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair

> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you

> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining

> “Baby…wake up…”

> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg

> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament

Micheal Myers

> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this

> You know he doesn’t cuddle

> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night

> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is

> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly

> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board

> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax

> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals

> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”

> He pauses.

> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.

> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving

> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.

> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.

> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek

> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..

Thomas Hewitt

> He’s almost nervous of the idea

> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning

> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-

> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries

> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical

> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask

> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him

>“Hold me?”

> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time

> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting

> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.

> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.

> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”

> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.

Bubba Sawyer

> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)

> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.

> You were wondering where those went

> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly

> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears

> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last

> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does

> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.

> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back

> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute

> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast

> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one

> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over

Vincent Sinclair

> Like some of the others he’s hesitant

> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room

> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps

> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax

> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is

> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress

> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn

> It’s your turn to pout down at him

> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby

> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave

> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning

[xcaptain-winterx]

Brahms doesn’t care as long reader is still there for him🤧 baby wants to be taken care of

For You.

How would the slashers react to their S/O killing in order to protect them?

Slashers Included - Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire

Warnings - mature themes, foul language, description of gore and violence, death

Michael Myers

Word Count - 0.6k

Indifference.

Michael Myers isn’t a man of very many emotions, so to see you kill a victim for him when he was knocked down doesn’t come as a major shock to him. He knows you’re completely loyal to him, so he chalks your behavior up to simply being loyal. He doesn’t connect the dots to realize that you’re doing it out of love for him and fear for his life. It’s so unfamiliar to him that he doesn’t recognize it. 

Quietly, Michael watches you from the floor, eyes blankly staring at you as you stab repeatedly at a victim who had somehow managed to overpower Michael. His head tilts, continuing to watch as you remove the knife from the victim’s chest for the final time, then drop the weapon and turn your body so that your gaze falls on Michael. 

You pad quietly over to him, lowering your body to kneel in front of Michael. Slowly, your hand reaches out, palm pressing against his masked cheek whilst your thumb strokes the area just beneath the eyeholes of his mask. “Are you okay?” your voice is soft and quiet, caring and loving, all things that Michael was so unfamiliar with. 

He stares silently back at you, a response that you were no stranger to. Your lips curl into a gentle smile, eyes silently scanning his bloodied coveralls for any injuries that might have been inflicted by the victim during their scuffle with Michael. 

“Here, let’s go and get you patched up, okay?” you say softly, nodding your head at Michael before pushing yourself back to your feet, casting a glance over your shoulder to the victim that lies lifeless in the entryway of your home. Your eyes narrow momentarily, staring down at the bloodied mess with an expression of both guilt and anger. Guilt at the prospect that you had just taken someone’s life, and anger at the fact that they had broken their way into your home and attempted to harm Michael. 

You shake your head before your gaze returns to Michael, noticing that while you had been staring at the carnage, he had pushed himself to his feet and was now studying you in an almost curious way. It wasn’t his usual studying of your every move, this felt more like a child curiously looking at something that they had never seen before.

“Michael?” you say, seemingly breaking the trance that Michael had fallen victim to, evident in how his spine suddenly stands rigid at the mere sound of your voice. You chuckle lightly at him, taking a step to close the small distance between the both of you. You lift your hand, placing a soft yet affectionate pat on the middle of Michael’s arm. He grunts inaudibly at you, another response that you were no stranger to.

You smile again at him, then turn to stride down the hallway to the bathroom, no doubt gathering supplies to patch the scratches and bruises you had noticed littering Michael’s hands and arms. He watches after you for a moment, then allows his attention to fall to the victim lying in the entryway. He stares down at them for a moment, tilting his head. 

The sight of the carnage does little to change his view of you, you were still the same woman that he had stumbled upon however many years ago. The one who had smiled at him in the rain and invited him inside so that he wouldn’t get sick. The one who cleaned his mask for him and made sure that his coveralls were freshly washed after he got back from a hunt. His view of you wasn’t going to change, if anything, he only fell for you more.

Jason Voorhees

Word Count - 0.7k

Comfort.

Jason knew what it felt like to be protected, his mother had done a good job of keeping him safe from the prying eyes of the campers and their counselors. But once his mother was no longer in the picture, that comforting feeling of being protected faded away with her. Once it clicked in his mind that she wasn’t coming back and that he was on his own, he found himself craving that feeling, craving that warmth. And when he found it again, he latched onto it hard.

With the swiftness of a rabbit, you plunge the blade of Jason’s machete into the forehead of the victim who had gotten the jump on him, lodging the weapon in the victim’s skull, wedging it in deep enough that you could hear the very bone of their skull crack underneath the pressure. You release the handle of the machete, watching as the victim falls forward, their body hitting against the forest floor with a dull thud.

You stand over them for a moment, eyes simply staring at the carnage that had been caused by your hands. But quickly, you recall the reason why you had acted so maliciously. You turn on your heel, eyes landing on Jason, who sits injured against a nearby tree, his hand nursing a stab wound located just beneath his ribcage. 

With widened eyes and a quickened heart rate, you speedwalk over to Jason, kneeling in front of him. Your hands shake as your mind struggles to conjure a solution to the current problem, gaze flickering between Jason’s masked face and the blood that trickles down from his open wound. “Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble to yourself, fumbling for a fleeting second before your hands dig into the pockets of the oversized flannel you wore. 

After rummaging for a second or two, Jason watches as you remove a tiny first-aid kit from one of the pockets, flipping it open with shaking fingers and removing patches of gauze and a small tube of ointment. Silently, he watches you through the eyeholes of his mask, eyes following your fingers as they shift to open the patches of gauze, laying them flat against your thighs before you uncap the tube of ointment. 

As you patch him up, taping the small squares of gauze to the wound on his abdomen, swiping ointment against the bloody skin. All while he watches you, mind replaying the sight of you wielding his machete, mimicking him in the way in which you murdered the rogue victim. In you, for just a single fleeting moment, he saw his mother. He saw his mother protecting him from those who had wronged him, and he felt that warmth again. 

You protecting him brought back that comforting feeling that he had been living without for so many years. His chest feels warm as you continue to patch him, a small fire that had been left dead and unlit for so long. A fire that his mother’s death had snuffed out, and a fire that you care for him had relit. 

To say that Jason felt just a touch safer around you at that moment is an understatement. Your killing for him just proves both your loyalty to him, as well as the genuine love that you hold for him. A love that he hadn’t experienced since the days of his late mother. 

His head tilts at you, a loving glaze to his eyes as he watches you settle back onto your feet, tossing the now-used tube of ointment onto the ground and pushing away the wrappers left behind by the opened gauze squares. Your gaze flickers to him, eyes catching his own through the darkened eyeholes of his hockey mask. 

Your lips curl into that smile that easily melts his heart, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes his chest flutter. “Are you okay?” you ask him gently, voice so soft and caring that his ears just barely catch what you’re saying to him. He nods once your words process in his head, his own eyes softening as he stares at you. 

To Jason, you were the warmth that he had been searching for, the protector that he had no idea how much he needed. While no, you weren’t his mother, you were a reminder that there were people out there who cared wholeheartedly about him. And because of that, in that moment, Jason latched onto you, and he latched onto you hard.

Bubba Sawyer

Word Count - 0.6k

Intimidation.

For someone who grew up surrounded by so much violence, it’s shocking to see the effect that common violence has on Bubba. His brothers are heinous people, and in a way, he too is a heinous person, but even after chopping someone up, he still feels that very human feeling of guilt. Watching Drayton and Chop-Top do anything remotely violent brings a sinking feeling to his gut, though he’s quick to mask it once Chop-Top begins to sing in insult to his younger brother’s cowardly tendencies. 

“You fucking bitch!” you scream out, lifting the revving chainsaw high above your head before bringing the blade down into the shoulder of the victim who hovers over Bubba. Their lips part in a horrified, blood-filled scream, their body arching back into the blade of the chainsaw. You push the weapon forward momentarily, then remove the blade and watch the victim crumble to their feet, their body falling to the side with a lifeless thud. 

With heaving shoulders, you readjust yourself on your feet, tossing the still revving chainsaw to the side, far enough that its spinning blade can’t nick you or Bubba. A frightened squeak grabs your attention, and it takes you a moment to realize that it was Bubba who had made the sound. Your head whips to face him, feet quickly padding closer to him. 

“Oh shit, are you okay?” you ask quickly, noticing how he nurses his arm, blood staining the sleeve and dripping down into a puddle on the floor. Your gaze flickers up to meet his, not failing to notice the glint of fear that passes over Bubba’s eyes. It breaks your heart momentarily, to see him so scared of you when all you were doing was keeping him safe.

For a second, you abandon the idea of patching his wound, instead opting to focus on comforting him first before reaching out to touch him again. “It’s alright honey, I’m here. I won’t hurt you, you’re safe,” you say softly to him, keeping your voice level and calm as you speak to him. You keep your hands firmly placed beside your thighs, not showing them to him for fear that he would react negatively. 

His gaze meets yours again, this time that glint of fear had practically disappeared. You weren’t some crazed victim who wanted him dead, you were still the woman who loved him tenderly and wholeheartedly. You smile reassuringly at him, that same smile that he had seen while you prepared dinner or while you hung the laundry out to dry outside. You were still you.

“There we go. Let’s get you all patched up, okay?” you whisper to him, voice still as soft and loving as it had always been. Your hands reach out to his arm, tilting it so that it wouldn’t bleed any more than it already was. He lets you, watching you curiously as you assist him in standing, not flinching as his weight momentarily leans against your side. 

Walking silently from the kitchen to the bathroom, Bubba finds himself glancing at you every now and then, simply admiring your features as he had done so many times before. But this time, there was a hint of something new about you, an aura separate from the one that you usually radiated. Now standing beside the warmth that Bubba felt when he was near you was a sharp wave of cold. But it was not a cold that was directed at him, but rather those who dared to wrong him.

Your head turns, gaze catching his as a loving smile paints itself onto your features, reminding him once again that you were still you. Sweet, but very protective, you.

Thomas Hewitt

Word Count - 0.7k

Guilt.

Thomas had never intended to become the person that he is, all he had ever known was following familial orders. Be it soft-spoken instructions from Luda Mae or shouted commands from Hoyt, all he’s ever known is being a complacent follower. He never means to hurt people, he just has to, it’s almost never his choice directly. All of what he does is directly influenced by those around him, but that’s only because it’s all that he’s ever known. 

The mere sight of you covered in blood that definitely wasn’t yours brought a sinking feeling to his stomach, the kind of feeling that he had felt each and every time he disappointed one of his family members. He watches as you deal with the victim that had slipped from his hands, watches as you slit their throat so violently that you don’t even look like you anymore. 

The victim falls, the blade still lodged in the back of their neck from where you’d pounced on them. The sound of the body’s thud shakes Thomas to his very core, not because of how gruesome their death was, he had seen and enacted so much worse. He’s shaken because it’s you, and in the way you moved and killed…he saw himself. He saw glimpses of his own actions, how your movements perfectly paralleled pain that he himself had caused. 

Though you turn to him with those soft eyes of yours and with a concerned expression, Thomas can’t break the chains of guilt that slowly make themselves known to him. He can feel them weigh down on his wrists and ankles, shackling him to the ground as you approach, tenderly taking his face into your hands just as you had done so many times before. 

Your eyes flicker down to the various wounds scattered across his body, shirt ripped from where the victim had slashed at him in an attempt to protect themself. “Oh Tommy,” you murmur, eyes raking his body before your gaze returns to his, looking at him with such concern that he momentarily forgets the carnage that you had caused. He grunts wordlessly, his own silent way of attempting to reassure you that he was okay. 

“Can you stand?” you ask quietly, removing your hands from his face and pushing yourself to stand in front of him. He grunts again, struggling for a moment before he pushes himself to his feet, staggering before he gains his balance. Your hands shoot out, taking hold of his arms and assisting him in steadying himself. “There we are.”

His gaze shifts, falling on the body of the victim just to your left. He stares down at them for a moment, taking note of their eyes that remain open in everlasting shock, of their arms that look as though they had been reaching for something, of their blood that stains the fabric of their clothes. He can feel his ears ringing already, a common response to what Thomas faces on a regular basis. But this felt different.

“Thomas? Hey, what’s going on?” your voice breaks him from whatever trance he had fallen victim to, grounding him in the harsh reality that he all but wished he could forget. You had turned to face him, both hands holding onto his bicep. He turns to you, eyes meeting yours before he sheepishly looks away. “Honey.”

He pauses. Waits. Listens to his own heartbeat for a moment before finally, he allows himself to look at you again. Your gaze is softened with worry, eyebrows furrowed to create a wrinkle in your forehead as you watch him carefully, attempting to read his expression. 

He doesn’t know how to properly deal with this guilt, even though deep down he knows that he has nothing to feel guilty about. You merely acted to protect him, and he would have done the exact same for you if not worse. But in a way, he feels as if you being around him so often had somehow tainted you, had somehow molded you into who he was. 

Thomas doesn’t know if that guilt will ever go away, even if you never end up bringing harm to another person again. Each time he glances at you, he sees flashes of what you have done. But the moment you smile at him in that darkened basement, he’s reminded that you aren’t him. And he’s going to make sure you never become him. 

Brahms Heelshire

Word Count - 0.6k

Curiosity. 

At heart, Brahms was still a child, a child who was unhealthily attached to the people who demonstrated even the smallest amount of care for him. He had been attached to his parents before they left him, then to Greta before she too left him behind. And as all children usually are, Brahms was curious. Curious about his surroundings and about the people who entered and exited his life. But that curiosity extended to his killings as well, dictating where he would stab and how much pressure he would apply to the edge of the knife. 

“Piece of shit,” you murmur, twisting the knife that you had already lodged deep into the victim’s throat, watching with not an ounce of humanity as the light drains from their eyes. Their knees buckle, wobbling on their legs for a second before their balance gives out completely. Their body crumbles to the ground, knocking against the floor with a thud that seems to shake the entirety of the Heelshire manor. 

“Hmm.” Your head whips around at the sound, eyes softening almost immediately at the sight of Brahms, who studies the scene in front of him with an expression equivalent to that of childlike curiosity. His head tilts, eyes flickering around to take in the entirety of the room before his gaze returns to you. 

“Sorry Brahms, I didn’t see you there,” you say honestly, wiping your bloodied palms on the front of your shirt as Brahms moves to close the distance between the both of you. His gaze is still fixed on the body behind you, eyes raking over them several times over to be sure that he doesn’t miss any detail. You sigh lightly, turning to face the same direction as Brahms. 

“Why the neck?” he asks, voice laced with genuine curiosity. You pause for a moment, eyebrows furrowing to create a small wrinkle on your forehead as your gaze shifts to stare at the victim’s body. You clear your throat, regaining yourself. Deep down, Brahms had never grown up properly, so his curiosity matching that of a child’s was nothing that couldn’t be explained. 

“Well, in the neck, there are certain arteries that can…kill painlessly,” you explain, watching Brahms kneel down in front of the body and poke it with an extended pointer finger. He hums to himself, turning his head back up so that his gaze focuses on you. “I stabbed them in the jugular,” you add, pointing to the knife and watching as Brahms follows your finger, humming once again to himself.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a passing moment, with Brahms studying the lifeless corpse lying on the floor, and you quietly staring at Brahms’ back. His curiosity never ceased to amaze you, how he looked at nearly everything with such a brightened look in his eyes. With a smile, you reach out, laying your palm flat against the back of his shoulder. 

“Hmm,” Brahms hums again, tilting his head down at the body before he pokes at their head, watching it loll aimlessly back before returning to its original position. He lets out a soft sigh through his nose, a simple quick exhale before he pushes himself to stand at your side. “Hungry,” he suddenly pipes up, turning to the kitchen and dragging you along with him.

The idea that you would kill for him only makes Brahms curious about you, curious about why you care so much about him and why you would go to the lengths that you did in order to keep him safe. Because in truth, Brahms was nothing but a child who was dealt a terrible hand of cards. 

[amomentsescape]

Slashers React to You Being Harassed

Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words

A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!

Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.

Michael Myers

You were honestly a little scared

Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man

Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own

Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby

He was a blatant and proud stalker

So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-

Welp

The man is now dead with a slit throat

That was quick

"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"

He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home

"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest

He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks

Jason Voorhees

This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you

You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two

But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood

You scream

The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer

"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."

He just tilts his head at you

You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now

Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning

He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out

Brahms Heelshire

You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line

So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you

And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house

Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight

So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment

You screamed

It lasted a few seconds

But the man didn't seem fazed

"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said

"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him

The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground

Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock

"Thank you-" you started

Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house

He didn't let you go outside for a while after that

Billy Loomis

You were about ready to punch this man yourself

But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone

This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you

But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger

A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds

After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you

"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy

It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion

"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"

Billy avoided your gaze

"Were you stalking me?"

"I like to call it, observing"

You let out a groan

Stu Macher

You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself

This boy is glued at your hip 24/7

The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say

Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long

So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark

"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely

How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next

But this man was pissing you off so...

"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"

And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest

Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside

He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time

Eric Draven

You were honestly getting freaked out by this man

In a city like this, anyone could be hurt

But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building

"Thank you," you murmured

"What was that?" the man spat back

You couldn't help but smile a bit

"You're about to get your ass kicked"

He just laughed at you

Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind

He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante

"Hi"

The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe

And he continued to be struck another 17 times

Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red

"You didn't have to kill him," you said

Eric just shrugged

"Oops?"

[b-00-biez]

Would you be able to write if {Michael, Brahms, and Thomas} found out their s/o had a breeding kink.

Breeding kink

With Michael, Brahms, Thomas

Michael

He honestly doesn't know what to do with this information but he will save it for later.

One night you were particularly stubborn and the easiest way for Michael to coax you into doing what he wants is to abuse your poor little entrance. You know he hasn't touched you for weeks and him just teasing you with just his tip probing at the entrance that awaits his full length, fluttering and welcoming him with open arms but he doesn't give in.

"M-michael please.. " you tried to beg for him to just fuck you, insert his full length into you despite him not wearing a condom right now. "Please Michael I'll do whatever the fuck you ask me just fuck me outta my misery.. " you said frustrated already, you know despite his mask, he's smirking underneath. Without a warning, he shoved his whole cock inside making you yelp and ease up around his length. He hooked your legs onto his shoulders and started fucking. His balls slapping your ass and you can hear it making lewd noises. On how rough he was being you can't help but feel your orgasm coming. You grasp whatever words you have left in your cock drunk brain and said "cum in me! Get me fucking pregnant!! " you screamed. Now, he's curious. You want his seed? You want your tummy full of his babies, your breasts swollen with milk? He's not too sure about this but hell you were such a good girl for him right now looking all needy and disheveled, maybe just this once he will fuck you full of his seed.

Brahms

The fact that he was spying on you watching porn and your fingers melting into your very Nectar. He has to know what you were watching so he can replace those damn fingers with his cock. So while you were asleep he swiped your phone and in the safety of his walls he played the video he saw.

He couldn't take off his eyes on that pussy being abused and edged by this guy's long shaft. The video was about to end until the guy pulled out a mix of their cum oozing out of her cunt onto the bed as she shivered from all the orgasm she had. You were watching this while your fingers were desperately trying to make you cum like the needy slut that you are? He didn't want you to suffer when all you needed was his cock and his buckets of cum in you.

After he persuaded you to do it with him he's already in you with no foreplay whatsoever rubbing your clit so roughly while snapping his hips with yours. "Ugh.. All mine Mine!! " he said going faster just burying you on the bed, ass up. He slapped your ass until it was red making you yelp while you felt his cock ramming itself in and out. You had no energy to tell him to slow down but gosh it felt so good when he's this rough! "Get pregnant Get pregnant Get pregnant!! " he chanted while rearranging your insides. Gosh how many orgasms have you had and how many loads does he need to fill you with until he's satisfied?

Thomas

He couldn't help but imagine how your legs wraps around his waist pulling him closer to you while he ruts your very hole. He couldn't help but notice how unresponsive you were after 2-3 rounds and he just couldn't get his mind off on how his meaty cock was a bit visible on your cute tummy while he fucked you up.

He didn't understand what a breeding kink was until you blurted out that he should cum inside you that day.

In the morning while you and his family were having breakfast, Luda Mae asked if you two were gonna have children soon since you couldn't even be separated from Thomas. You choked on your water then looked at Thomas who was already blushing but nodded that he indeed plans to have children with you sooner or later but until you get married to him.

One particular night after that you couldn't take it anymore. He kept cumming outside and on you! He was so careful not to get you pregnant until marriage. "T-thomas please.. Just cum in me! Please I can't wait till marriage I'm already yours!! " you blurted out. He stopped for a moment but then picked up the pace as he rutted into you fucking your g-spot over and over again as he groans in agreement. Mixing your juices and his pre-cum so deliciously and night after night he kept fucking you full of his loads and every time after that you felt satisfied even after you conclude that you were indeed pregnant now.

[slasherstories123]

Hii this is the first time I make a request. Can you make slashers(your choices hehe) react to S/O making a plushie that look just like them? Thank you :)

Slashers reaction to their S/O making a plushie of them

Paring: Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Vincent Sinclair,Lester Sinclair, and Brahms Heelshire x reader

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @l0sercat

A/N: When you said dolls it made me think of crochet dolls, but if not then I’m sorry😭💗

Jason Voorhees

Very curious. He's curious about the process of you making the plushie once tibeas given to him.

Jason loves the plushie, even carrying it around like it’s his own child and will even sleep with it besides his teddy bear that was given by his mother.

He’ll hug you to no end as his way of saying thank you

If you were to make another plushie he’d want to watch you make it so he could make one of you, it was terribly made but it was his first time… and it’s the thought that counts

He’ll be forever grateful because it’s the fact that you wanted to make the plushie and haven’t had any sort of gift in years ever since his mother was killed, it’ll possibly even make him emotional just the thought of him receiving any gifts after being called a monster or freak.

Michael Myers

He’s giving you so many head tilts of confusion

All he can think about is why? Why are you making it, he knows you love him, but that far to make a plushie?

He’ll keep it of course but you won’t see him around with it, he probably has it put up on your dresser.

Will he stare? Yea. He’ll stare at you through the whole process of making it. Once it’s done he’ll definitely see something missing. Going in the kitchen to get the largest knife and give it to you.

You’d have to stifle a laugh and make a large knife that will fit the doll to fit his liking, handing it up to up for his own approval.

He’d take the doll and hold it by its head. Placing it on his shoulder.

He’d walk around the house with it on his shoulder, surprisingly, it doesn’t fall off.

Vincent Sinclair

Loves it.

Vincent keeps anything you give him, even if it’s a a half head flower you saw outside he’ll keep it even if it’s shriveled up into nothing

At first he’s curious since he never knows you could make things like he could. Once you show him how you do it, just know he’ll also make you one as well so you both can have plushies of each other

He’s rather good at it for the first time but often cuts his fingers so you’d have to stop him just to patch them up or to make sure he isn’t bleeding

He’ll often watch you make them since it’s satisfying in his opinion to watch. Just have music play in the background while you work he could stare for hours and not get bored at all.

Lester Sinclair

Lester literally laughs at the sight of it

It’s more of a surprise laugh since he didn’t expect you to make a doll that’s exactly like him, he loves it and will give you the tightest hug known to mankind

Even press kissed all over your face happily, mustache sloppy but they’re still kisses 🤷🏾‍♀️

He’ll even call the doll “Lester Jr” and will have it in his truck… or will carry it everywhere but will also have it in his truck since it reminds him of you

He’ll hug it to no end, even in his sleep, or he’ll have you hold onto it while he curls up besides you to sleep

Brahms Heelshire

It would be hard for you to even make it since he’ll sometimes take the tools away just so he can get your attention.

Once he settled down… hopefully. He’ll watch while having the porcelain doll of himself in his lap. Holding onto it until you finished with the doll you were currently making yourself.

Just like with the porcelain doll, he expects you to be careful even though it isn’t as fragile as the one he has

It’s a doll, and it was made by you. He wants it to be taken care of of since it resembles him.

As his way of a thank you, he’ll give you one perfectly made as well, and it has more details of your features that you don’t even pay attention to.

[seraphicwaves]

Slashers Reaction To Having A Chubby S/O.

Brahms Heelshire.

Oh my God he loves it. He holds you all the time, especially when his hands dig into your plump ass. He'll definitely call you mommy as he snuggles into your big tits. He wants you all the time, especially at night.. He wants cuddles 24/7, especially when you're sad or having period cramps. He wants to bury himself into your tummy all the time, until you tell him to stop, that is. He whimpers when he doesn't get to be around you, especially when he's in the walls and Malcolm is delivering things.

Bubba Sawyer.

Oh, this big baby loves it. Especially if you're short and chubby, he loves having someone built almost like him and short. (You're more curvy though..) He always wants to hold you, even gets yelled at by the family sometimes for not doing his duties and clinging to you. He whines when he gets taken away from your presence, and overly kills the victims when he's mad that you're not with him. When you ARE with him though, he wants to hug you and kiss your cheeks, even squeeze you like you squeeze him.

Michael Myers.

He doesn't mind it. In fact, he prefers it. He's sort of indifferent though, he IS quite clingy when you're cooking for him though. He'll come up behind you, grab you, and hold you. He even lets out some soft grunts in your ear when he squeezes your wide hips. He'll let you do ANYTHING to him in bed, even when he's being the dominant one.

Billy Lenz.

Billy loves it SOOO much. He calls you his "Pretty Piggy" and he clings to you when the girls are out. Even you'll sometimes make excuses to go into the attic, and he'll be so clingy and not want you to leave. You're HIS and his ONLY. He'll squeeze your belly, kiss your neck, squeeze your breasts, etc. He just wants to hold his chubby piggy and kiss you, especially when you're on your period or just moody. He wants your belly out in crop-tops all the time, especially to squeeze and kiss it. He'll definitely mark your neck up with hickeys and such.

Thomas Hewitt.

He adores it, like Bubba does. Except he's not AS clingy as Bubba would be. He does love it and will admire you, but he doesn't whine when he's without you. Instead, he gets hard and desperate for you. Whenever he's hunting for victims and you're not there or sick, he'll stay behind in the barn and jerk off, while thinking about you that is. He'll absolutely adore squeezing your belly and kissing your neck, especially when you're not in the mood for sex, since he's quite tender in my opinion. He'll kill for you, he will.

Jason Voorhees.

Jason adores you. He wants you, constantly. He doesn't even know how to control his boners when cuddling with you. When he's without you, he'll think about you constantly and even maybe overkill some of his victims, but only because he's mad that you're not with him. Jason wants to snuggle with you, even without his mask on. You're the only one who he'll let see his face without it on. He'll love to hold your wide hips, he thinks that they're a symbol of fertility. For him. He loves your belly too, don't forget that.

Vincent Sinclair.

Oh boy he wants you. He wants to show you off, kiss your short thick legs, etc. He'll sculpt a figure in the shape of you just so he can show you off to the others. It'll be nude too, trust me. He's a horny horny boy, that's something he DEFINITELY is. He'll cradle your chubby belly, squeeze your wide pudgy hips, that is until he leaves fingerprint marks. He definitely whines a bit, but they're more like grunts, and he only does this when he's without his baby.

Lester Sinclair.

This baby is so giddy about your body when he sees you. He wants to just be all over you, all the time. 24 fucking 7. He giggles when he gets to hold you or cuddle your soft and squishy form, especially your belly. God, he's a belly man FOR SURE. He gets majorly jealous when Bo or Vincent even dare to GLANCE at you. He definitely wants to snuggle every night, clinging to your body like it's his last chance at survival. Which it might be, to him at least. He'll kiss your big chest, kiss your tummy, kiss your inner thick thighs. He'll even bite you occasionally, but not too roughly. He loves your body overall.

Bo Sinclair.

He's also indifferent about it. He loves you, regardless of your shape. But there ARE bonus points for you being chubby.. You can't really run from him when he's chasing you down to tickle you, you'll get tired after the first 2 minutes or so. He loves your boobs, he thinks they match with your adorable rounded belly. He wants to see you dressed up for him and ONLY for him. He wants to kiss your belly, thick thighs, etc. He's definitely not TOO much of a cuddler, but he DOES want to cuddle occasionally. Especially if he has a bad day, or if a victim didn't work out like he expected them/it to.

[whimsyvixen]

🎄 Happy Holidays my moots and followers~!! 🎄

I know I haven't posted much (life's been crazy and I've been everywhere except my home 😭) so here's a little present 🎁 I hope you'll enjoy!

Wishing y'all a Merry Christmas now because I probably won't post anything until next year! Love you guys! Enjoy the Holidays and stay safe out there!! 😁🙏

Just a dumb headcannon I have:

Brahms doesn't enjoy being groomed. He's kind of like a cat, dreading bath time and hiding away from you when he sees you with a sponge in your hand. He's very unkempt and doesn't see the point to maintaining a clean appearance every day if he's just going to get dirty again. He will initially refuse to let you trim his messy beard, but you've found a way to make him shut up and sit still while you work your magic~ ✨😉.

[charliedawn]

Nurse brings their baby to work because they couldn't find the baby sitter. And the baby first word is dad. how would the slasher react to suddenly being called dad???

Michael Myers

Michael stares at the baby in your arms, his expression hidden behind his mask, but you can sense his surprise. He wasn’t expecting to be called dad, and the word feels foreign to him. For a moment, he freezes, his usual menacing air disappearing as he just stares. Slowly, he reaches out, his hand gently touching the baby's tiny fist. Though he doesn't say anything, there's a subtle shift in his body language, a quiet acceptance of the title.

Yeah. That baby is gonna have a great dad.

Jason Voorhees

Jason, who is often seen as a protector in his own way, might feel a wave of unexpected emotion. He has affection for them and the appellation dad did make him still for a second, reminding him of what he once longed for—a family and love. He crouches down slowly, tilting his head in that childlike way he sometimes does, unsure of how to react but clearly moved. Gently, he pats the baby’s head, trying to be as soft as possible, his usually violent hands becoming tender. Jason lost his father at a young age, and he would make sure that doesn’t happen with your baby.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy's reaction would be more layered. He'd laugh, finding the idea of being called dad by your child both amusing and strange. "Well, look who’s got great taste," he’d tease, his grin wide and mischievous. "Calling me daddy, huh ? Heck. I might start to like you, ya lil’ goblin !"

But deep down, there might be a flicker of something else—perhaps a sense of pride, though he’d never admit it. He’d probably try to play it off, cracking jokes, but you’d catch a glimmer in his eyes that says it means more than he lets on. Freddy wanted to be a father, before he died. But he never got the chance. So, he’d be secretly happy to keep an eye on your baby.

Chucky

Chucky would be taken aback, but his pride would swell almost instantly. "That's right, kid ! Dad's here !" he’d say with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the title. He’d probably pick up the baby—carefully, for once—and start telling them how lucky they are to have him as their father. Chucky would take this as an ego boost and start acting like he's the best "dad" in the room, making jokes and pretending to give fatherly advice.

He would be the type of father to fight tooth and nail for his kid though—even though he pretends not to care.

Norman Bates

Norman would be stunned, unsure how to process being called dad. His face would soften as a mix of emotions flicker across his expression—uncertainty, fear, and a strange sense of warmth. He’s never really had anyone look to him in such a way before, and it would catch him off guard. "Dad…" he’d repeat softly, almost as if testing the word himself. There’s a brief moment where you see a tender, vulnerable side of him emerge. He’d be happy. But…He would also be conflicted because he’s never really had a father figure before and he would be afraid to not be up to the task…

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms would be overjoyed, his eyes lighting up with excitement as the baby calls him dad. He loves the idea of family and devotion, so this would feel like an affirmation of the bond he craves. "Did you hear that ? They called me dad !" Brahms would say, almost giddy with happiness. He’d immediately want to hold the baby, showing an unusually gentle side, savoring the moment as if it cements his place in your life even more deeply. He’d also wonder what it would be like to be YOUR partner…to be the real father of the child. Let me say, Brahms would actually buy you a wedding ring if that meant you would let him be yours and the baby’s family.

Bo Sinclair

Bo would smirk at first, his Southern drawl slipping out, "Well, ain’t that somethin’ ?" He’d be caught off guard, unsure if he should embrace it or brush it off. But deep down, the idea of being called dad would actually make him proud and happy. He’d probably roll with it, giving you a cocky smile, but you’d know from the way he looks at the baby that it’s gotten to him more than he’ll admit. He would wait until you are out of the room before kissing the baby’s forehead and whispering to it.

"Yeah…I’m yer Pa now, baby. And me and ya are gonna make yer mama so happy. You’ll see."

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wouldn’t show much outward reaction at first, his face hidden beneath his mask, but he’d pause. The idea of being called dad by your child would stir something deep inside, something warm and unfamiliar. He’d probably kneel down, gently offering his hand to the baby, who’d grab onto his fingers. In that small, quiet moment, Vincent would silently accept the title, his body language soft and careful.

He would also take a picture—to remember that moment forever.

Pennywise

Pennywise would be utterly caught off guard. He’d be playing his usual mischievous role, trying to get the baby to laugh with goofy faces or strange noises when the word dad slips out. He’d freeze, his sharp teeth momentarily retreating, eyes widening in shock. "Dad, huh? Well, that’s new," he’d chuckle, though the sound would be a bit strained, a mix of amusement and uncertainty. Deep down, Pennywise would be torn between his natural chaos-loving self and an unfamiliar, almost protective instinct. After all, the word dad is reserved for those who care, and that’s not something he’s entirely familiar with. He doesn’t care. About anything or anyone. Still, he might lean into it, thinking of it as a twisted joke between the two of you, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the idea of being important to someone would linger.

Pennywise *hesitates before taking the baby in his arms* : "…You’re one ugly baby. But…I guess that’s okay. That just means am gonna have to take care of you."

Penny

Penny, on the other hand, would be thrilled. The second the baby says dad, he’d light up with genuine excitement, clapping his hands and letting out a loud, gleeful laugh. "Oh, did you hear that ? I’m dad !" he’d exclaim, picking up the baby and twirling them around carefully. Unlike his brother, Penny wouldn’t be conflicted—he’d embrace the title with his usual boundless joy, seeing it as the highest honor. He’d probably carry the baby around for the rest of the day, boasting to the others with pride.

Jack Torrance

Jack's reaction to being called dad by your baby would be complex. At first, he might freeze, his mind racing between his past as a father and the present moment. A flash of old memories might cross his face—memories of his son, Danny, and how things went terribly wrong. He might force a smile, but it wouldn’t reach his eyes. "Dad, huh ?" he’d mutter, his voice tinged with a strange mix of affection and unease. There’s a part of him that wants to embrace the title, to be a better father this time, but there’s another part—the darker part—that’s afraid of what that responsibility could mean for him. You’d catch a glimpse of his inner struggle as he tries to keep it together, quietly stepping back while nervously running a hand through his hair.

Jack would likely need a moment to collect himself, caught between the warmth of being seen as a father again and the haunting fear of repeating his past mistakes.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite part of you (physically)…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

tw: some nsfw (mainly Art - who’s surprised)

Michael

Your face and your waist/stomach; Michael likes being able to read your every micro expression and communicate without your words as well as his own (something about him not needing any words to understand you is satisfying to him - instinct responding to instinct), often rests his head on your stomach when cuddling regardless of whether his mask is on or not, and is usually holding your waist when getting freaky with you. Likes being able to pick you up by your waist and just place you down wherever he feels inclined to, that sense of control.

Pinhead

Impossible to answer. If you ask Pinhead this question and insist he answers, he will pace back and forth before disappearing through a portal to Hell, incapable of dissecting what he believes to be the masterpiece that is your body in favour of choosing one specific part of it over the rest as his favourite. Will literally debate it in another realm for 100 years before returning to you (where approximately 3 minutes have passed in our time) to tell you he has made a choice: your heart. You roll your eyes and tell him that doesn’t count, but he already has the perfect answer prepped because he knew you’d query his response:

“Your heart is what powers the rest of you, my dear. Without your heart, you would be an empty vessel. A beautiful one, but empty. Your body is most beautiful, living, and it is your heart that ensures such a state of being. For that, your heart is my favourite part of tour body.”

Brahms

Will sulk in the walls and refuse to talk to you if you ask him to pick a part of your body and I’m so serious; he literally adores you. When you explain that he can give different answers for different reasons (such as sexually/romantically/what part of you he’s most innocently attracted to) he’s more inclined to think about it. At that point, he’s happy because he can give more than one answer - that’s more fair, Brahms thinks. So, romantically he would say your lips. Innocent attraction, he would say your eyes. Sexually?

“…Every part of you I’ve been inside.”

Art

Easiest question you’ve ever asked him. His answer is one simple gesture: 👌🏻

It’s your hole. Any hole you’ve got. That’s his favourite part. If there’s one thing Art loves more than anything else, it’s playing with something dark, wet and warm that he can stuff fingers or…other things into.

If you asked him for a more in-depth answer that sounded slightly less like you’re his own personal fleshlight, Art would pause, then go: 👉🏻😃👈🏻

Your smile, because he likes seeing you happy. He’s not exactly a romantic, but he is very playful.

Sun and Moon

Surprisingly, both Sun and Moon are in agreement that your face is their favourite part of your body, but it is for very different reasons; Sun likes holding your face, cupping your cheeks, tracing your cheekbones with mechanical thumbs; Moon likes your face because yours is the only face that gives Moon kisses. They are also both capable of reading your expressions incredibly well (they have images of your every microexpression stored as vitally important information in their systems), and they treasure doing things just to see the reaction on your face. Backflips, magic trucks - anything to see your eyes light up.

Marta

Your womb - okay, hear me out on this one, because before you jump to conclusions I’m not suggesting anything relating to hardcore fisting. Marta’s favourite place to touch you is your lower abdomen, her fingers splaying over where your womb rests in a protective gesture. To her, that is the purest part of you, that she protects from the foul seed of men. It is a sacred place in which God plants children, but your path of purity (lesbianism x) renders it an unspoilt treasure. It is rare Marta would kneel before you, but whenever she does, it is usually to place a kiss over the skin of your tummy, where your womb resides.

[disasterofastory]

A shocking night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

A shocking night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 2/14 Warnings: shower smut, a bit dub-c, dead bodies

Summary: You meet Brahms, the living one, for the first time.

It's so quiet you can hear the rapid beating of your heart as it tries to break free from the hold of your ribcage. Your chest heaves as you pant and gulp for air. Your lungs burn. You can feel the wild rhythm of your pulse at the tip of your fingers. It makes your limbs numb and frozen. It makes you stop from running and escaping this hellhole.

The entrance door of the mansion seems far away. Too far away.

Your eyes are on the man. He is the only one still alive. The other three lie on the ground, bloody and motionless. They chose the wrong house to break into. Your attention falls on them for a second before snapping back at the one who stares at you from behind his mask. The white but dirty porcelain is familiar. Too familiar.

"Brahms?" Your voice is high and panicked. At first, you think he doesn't even understand your question. He tilts his head to the side before nodding. His posture is still tense and ready to jump at any second if you dare to move even an inch. His broad chest moves up and down as he pants. The white shirt he wears is dirty and bloody, too. Everything is.

How is it possible? You heard about the history of the family who hired you. Malcolm told you about their son who died in the fire that still marks the outside of the house. That's why you were so accepting to take care of a toy. You had no idea what secret they hid among the tall walls of the mansion.

"Y/N?" Your heart stops beating for a second when a high, childlike voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your eyes focus back on the man in front of you. "Yes?" You ask back, gasping. "Are you going to leave?" He asks. It's a dangerous question. You hear the silent warning underneath his words. "No, Brahms," you force yourself to speak. "I won't leave you." He nods. Even through the mask, you can see the satisfaction that your reply brings to him. "Did they hurt you?"

Did they hurt you? You have to think about his question. You don't remember. Everything happened so fast. In one second, you were asleep, and the next, you woke up at the sharp sound of breaking glass. You went to see what it was, and before you knew it, chaos ensued. Brahms broke through a mirror and killed everyone. Well, expect you.

He steps closer, and your back presses against the wall as you try to keep your distance from him. His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding over the curve until he reaches your neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle.

Oh, now you remember. One of the men grabbed your neck when they noticed you. Your head is still dizzy because of it. And because of everything else. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Please, Brahms." Tears gather in your eyes as you stand still in his hold. "Please, don't hurt me." The man frowns behind the mask as he moves his gaze from your neck to your face. Your face is wet from crying. Your eyes shine with tears and panic. He shakes his head. "If you are good to me, I will be good to you." His words do nothing to calm you down, and his thin voice makes you want to cry harder. How is it even possible? The boy, the man in front of you, should be dead. Taking a deep breath, you reach for his hand still on your neck. His fingers curl around your fingers instantly. "We have to do something with… them," you tell him, glancing at the lifeless bodies behind Brahms.

You are not even sure what you should do. Call the police? You are sure Brahms wouldn't let you, and you would end up in prison without a question. Nobody would believe you. But maybe being behind bars would be better than staying here.

"I will take care of them," Brahms says. His voice is normal now, and you are surprised at how good it sounds. "What will you do with them?" You ask him. "I will take care of them," he repeats his previous words, and you get the hint. "Okay," you nod. "Take care of them, Brahms." At your instruction, the man's posture straightens. He almost seems happy that you told him what to do. "I will go and make some tea, okay?" You ask him. He is not happy about letting you go out of his sight, but the promise of warm tea after he is done makes him relent.

You know this is your chance to escape, but you can't make yourself do it. You are too afraid. And too tired. You sit at the kitchen island for what it feels like forever. You hear Brahms moving around in the other room, and you can see his dark form outside, but the greenery of the garden hides what he is doing. Well, you have a guess, anyway.

"Are you done?" You ask him when he appears under the door of the kitchen. He is even more dirty than he was. His boots are almost black because of the mud outside.

You have to clean up everything tomorrow. You stop at the thought. What? There is no way you will stay and play nanny after this madness.

When Brahms nods, you push the other mug his way, and he sits down in front of you. "How will you-?" Before you can finish your question, he pulls on the mask, and you get a glimpse of his thick beard and lips. "Oh." For long seconds, none of you say anything. Brahms just stares at you while sipping from his cup, and you look back at him with several unanswered questions. "Brahms," you break the silence after a while, clearing your throat. You are still afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. As it seems, he has a sure place for dead bodies. He says nothing but watches you, waiting. "You were here the… whole time?" He nods. "And the… doll? It is just a toy, isn't it?" He nods again. The thought of him watching you without your knowledge sends unease down your spine. He was there the whole time, and you did know nothing about it. "Your parents," you continue. The words roll down your tongue slowly and carefully. "They wanted to protect you." You heard about him killing a little girl. Brahms nods, putting down the mug onto the wooden surface. It's empty. You have not enough courage to ask him why he did what he did. "You…" Your throat tightens. "You killed those men so easily." He reminded you of a feral beast, taking down those men easily and quickly. Even when they begged, Brahms didn't have mercy in his heart to throw them out and let them run away. "They hurt you," he says. His gaze falls on your neck, watching the dark bruise already forming on your soft skin. It makes him angry. "You came out to protect me?" He looks into your eyes again as he nods. "Will you hurt me?" He thinks for a long, horrible second and shakes his head. The dark curls on the top of his head frame the porcelain mask on his face. "The mask," you continue. "You can take it off." His muscles tense, and he shakes his head again. "Okay," you nod, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late Brahms. You should take a shower and go to sleep." "No," he replies, and his voice is childlike and high again. You frown at his answer. "Do you want to go to sleep like this?" You ask him. He is dirty and bloody and sweaty. He shakes his head. "Then go and shower. You will sleep better." "No." "Brahms," you sigh. "It's late, and I'm tired. Please, just do as I say." After watching over the doll for weeks, you fall into your caretaker role automatically. "Will you be there?" "While you shower?" He nods. "If you want me there." You have to force your face not to grimace. "Will you bathe me?" 'No' is your first reaction, but you keep it yourself. He is so calm now. You don't want to do anything that can disturb it. "If you want to." He nods again, standing up. "Then go and get some clothes and meet me in your room, okay?" You can see he wants to argue for a second but decides against it at the end. He must be tired, too.

While you wait for Brahms in his room, your eyes are glued to the doll in the middle of the bed. He stares back at you. The dim lights reflect in his glass eyes. You are almost angry at it. There were moments during your time here when you foolishly thought taking care of a toy wasn't the biggest waste of your time.

A thought gets stuck in your head, and you frown. Your eyes are still on the doll when you hear the real Brahms's arrival. "Brahms," you say his name. He stops, watching your back until you turn to look at him. He holds his clean clothes against his chest. "Your parent. They won't come back." Your question sounds like a statement, but the man nods anyway.

You need several deep breaths to calm yourself. Upsetting Brahms won't lead you anywhere good.

"Come," you break the silence after a while. Your voice is surprisingly steady. "The sooner you get cleaned, the sooner we can go to sleep."

In the small space of the bathroom, Brahms seems even bigger. He towers over you easily, watching you put his clean clothes on the toilet through his mask. His heart is wild in his chest. He imagined you this close to him so many times before. Of course, he acted on his desires several times, but now you are awake. You know about him. And you will stay. "Take off your clothes, Brahms," you tell him, trying to look everywhere else but him as he slowly does as you say. "You don't like me?" His voice is a mix of his real and childlike pitch. You gulp. "Of course, I like you, Brahms." "Then why don't you look at me?" He is confused. You don't like how he looks like? Maybe you would prefer Malcolm instead of him? The thought angers him. That man is weak and incapable of protecting you. You force yourself to look at him. "I just thought you would feel uncomfortable," you lie. Oh. The man calms down within a second. How nice of you. "Now go," you tell him, pointing at the already running water. For a moment, you think he will obey again, but at the last second, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you with himself. "Brahms!" You gasp. "What are you doing?" "You are dirty, too." "I will take a shower after you go to sleep." "No." "Brahms!" You don't stand a chance against his strength. The sleeve of your shirt is already wet. "Get in with me!" The anger is clear and powerful in his voice. Blood freezes in your veins at his sudden aggression. "Okay! Okay!" You gasp, afraid. With a quick step, you are under the water, too, letting your clothes get soaked and stick to your body.

Being so close to him, you don't have any other option but to stare at his bare upper body. His skin is several shades darker, with dried blood and dirt on it. His chest is covered in dark hair that barely hides his hard muscles. How can he be so fit while living inside the walls?

"No," he breaks the silence when you reach out for the sponge. "I don't want that." After his last outburst, you decide to let it go. Pouring some soap in your palm, you smear it all over his chest. Your lungs burn for air as you stare into nothing, trying not to think about what you are doing right now. You can feel his muscles quiver and move under your touch. "Am I a good boy?" Brahms asks, making you look up at him in surprise. "Yes," you reply. "You are a good boy." "I protected you." "You did, Brahms." "And good boys get rewards, right?" You gulp. "I guess you are right." "Then take off your clothes." Fuck. "I will take off my clothes if you wash your hair. I can't reach it." The man thinks about it for a second, then nods. By the time you reach for your shirt, he is already washing his hair.

Brahms's heart thuds in his chest as he watches you get rid of your clothes. Soon, you are bare and soft in front of him. Your hair is soaked, and small drops of water run over your skin, caressing the parts he wants to touch, too. His large palms almost burn with need, and his fingers twitch with need. "Am I still a good boy?" He asks, staring down at you. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is mesmerized by your breasts. Your nipples are hard peaks almost grazing his chest. "Yes." Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. "Then I can wash you too." It's more of a statement. "Brahms, I don't think it-" Your words end in a startled gasp as he tugs you closer without your permission. His hands are large on your back. His erection is pressed between your bodies. The friction makes him grunt. He caresses your skin, starting on your back and slowly but surely slipping to your front. His thumb flicks over your nipples, playing and teasing them. "Brahms!" You want to sound stern, but your voice trembles at the pleasurable feeling that goes straight between your legs. When he tugs on one of your nipples, your back arches on its own. He knows your body better than you think, and his little secret pulls a naughty smirk on his lips. "Y/N," he says your name, almost whining. "You said I am a good boy." "You are," you tell him. "But you shouldn't-" Your moan is loud and clear in the small room. His long fingers slip between your legs even when you try to close your thighs. "Let me get my reward," he says, on the edge of demanding. "I am a good boy, Y/N. I protected you from those men." "You did," you cry out, feeling him on your most intimate part. His fingertips graze over your slit, opening you up to caress you some more. He isn't sure what he is doing, but it doesn't stop your body from reacting. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. His breathing is heavy next to your ear, and his hips rock against your stomach. He grinds his cock to your skin for some friction and whines every now and again. "Teach me, Y/N," he says. "Tell me what to do to be your good boy." If he is a good boy, you won't leave him. You won't even try it. "M-my clit," you tell him, reaching down for his hand to lead him to the small buddle of nerves. "Rub it, Brahms. Here!" He does as you say, watching your face to see what feels good and what isn't. The man draws small circles on your clit while his fingers get soaked in your juices. He can feel the familiar pull on his balls as he continues to grind against your body. Your soft stomach feels like heaven on his aching cock. Your hands snap up to his shoulders, grabbing onto the man to keep your balance. Your legs shake, and your thighs open for his curious fingers. He feels proud when he notices it. "Call me a good boy," he pants demandingly. "Tell me I'm your good boy, and you won't leave me." His fingers on you move faster, rubbing and teasing. "You are my good boy, Brahms," you tell him, gasping and moaning. Hot coil burns in your stomach as you feel your orgasm approaching. "So good!"

You almost fall against the tiles when Brahms squats down in front of you. Your nails scratch over the wall to find your balance. For long seconds, you forget how to breathe as you stare down at the man's curly, wet locks in front of you. You can feel the cold of his mask on your thigh as he pushes it out of the way. "Brahms!" Hearing his name falling out of your lips in a shocked cry makes his cock jerk and leak even more pre-cum.

The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in his nostrils. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he takes several deep breaths to burn your smell in his memory. When one of your hands finds his hair in a strong pull, he doesn't waste any more time. He leans closer and closes his lips around the small bud he teased a few minutes ago. The vibration of his moan strikes over your body. Your taste floods his mouth, and he can't help but crave more. He devours your pussy like his life depends on it. His tongue flicks over your clit, and his cheeks hollow when he starts to suck on it. "Fuck!" You scream, letting your head fall backward. "Brahms!" Your hips grind down on his face with fastened pace as you chase your release. His muffled whines and moans echo in the small bathroom, mixing with your cries until both of you reach your highs and fall over the edge. His cum lands on the ground until the still running water washes it down the drain while your pussy gets cleaned by his tongue. Your muscles twitch and jerk under every swipe on your sensitive center. "Good boy, Brahms," you gasp for air. "You are my good boy."

[the-s1lly-corner]

Calling various slashers pretty boy

Oh yeah we are cooking today

Characters: Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, OG Michael Myers

Notes: reader is GN, admin is writing this in bursts so any noticable difference in energy is due to that LMAO, written on mobile

CWs: blood mentions but it's very small

JASON

It takes him a while to believe you think hes pretty since it's so deeply ingrained in his mind that hes got a face only a mother could love

He doesn't reject the nickname, it just takes him some time to truly fully believe you when you call him pretty boy!

The first time he pauses for a moment before turning his gaze towards you... very intense stare

Absolutely melts into your arms when you pepper his bare face with kisses while calling him pretty boy

Hes careful not to smoosh you under him buts hes basically draped over your lap and pressing his face into your stomach

MICHAEL

Little to no reaction when you call him pretty boy, if there IS a reaction hes just the slightest head tilt as he stares you down

He doesnt care all that much, at least as far as you can tell... Michael... isnt the easiest to read

But you're more than sure that he would stamp it out if he didnt like it, so at least you have that going on!

Doesnt take his mask off around you at all so you dont.. actually know what he looks like... you sometimes wonder if he thinks you're just saying the term without actually meaning it

Affection with Michael alwaus feels a little one sided but you know he st least partly cares for you.. maybe..(/lh/hj)

BRAHMS

Oh look what you've done... now hes going to expect you to keep going-

Tell him just how pretty he is, what you like about his looks... he might even insist you call him Pretty Boy in place of his name!

Not that that he isnt going to return at least some of the energy, hes totally obsessed with you and hes not about to let you go feeling unloved

Call him pretty boy while the two of you are cuddling and hes going to grab your face and just.. stare intently..

Then saying you're beautiful in return, likely saying something specific about your face

BUBBA

No ones ever called him pretty boy before... let alone pretty..!

Totally melts when you call him that, pauses his work on whatever hes doing at the moment to process what you've called him before giving a soft giggle

He wants to show you how pretty he thinks you are, too, typically shows that by touching your face and tracing your skin, sometimes playing with your hair

Its... best not to call him pretty boy when hes working on carving up some meat, hes become desensitized to blood..

Unless you're okay with the upcoming mess!

THOMAS

The only person who's really complimented his looks, at least before you came along, was family members

Needs a minute to turn over what you said in his mind, and for a moment you may even wonder if you said something to upset him

Very gently takes your hands and traces them along the sides of his face, against his mask if hes wearing it

Then he holds your face in his hands... it's not a new piece of affection, he occasionally traces his fingers along your skin as the two of you snuggle

Hes going to be thinking about the name for a while, but hes not going to let it get in the way of his work and chores

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | kisses!

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Black Christmas, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Billy Lenz

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content

♡ note; i hope to do a first meeting and kisses post for all ton of slashers, so let me know who else you wanna see! there’s already some i swapped out between the two posts just because of ideas i already had

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> this brat is always begging for kisses

> he’s not really one to physically initiate

> and it’s secretly because he loves when you follow his orders

> but he loves all kinds of kisses, and he’s usually content with more chaste ones

> when you do make out though, he is sloppy

> he’s still so touch starved and sensitive

> so it can go from just a long peck to him panting and huffing surprisingly quickly

> and he likes when you praise him for it

> he loves when you pin his hands while you kiss him, laying beneath you as you straddle his chest

> but he loves pawing at you almost as much- in the same position of course

> loves receiving marks

> especially hickies on his neck, like a dumb horny teen

Micheal Myers

> he’s not huge on kissing, or other non-sexual contact

> he’ll make you ask for it

> sometimes even beg

> and then he’ll roll up his mask and kiss you, rough and breathless

> he’s a biter, on your lips, neck, anywhere

> and the more you whine the more he marks you

> all that being said

> he loves when you kiss the mask

> you can swear you’ve heard him groan a bit from it before

> he’ll feel you up as you do too, making it hot and heavy despite how one sided the contact is

> he loves grabbing your throat, pushing you against the wall and kissing you so hard it stuns you

> sometimes to get what he wants, because he’s a malewife manipulator

> but sometimes because he loves the hazy eyed face you make as he pulls away

Thomas Hewitt

> oh my god loves when you kiss him

> forehead kisses, cheek kisses, kisses through the mask, kisses pressed to his jaw, etc etc

> hell you lean over and kiss his arm and he’s giddy- in his silent and almost unnoticeable way

> he loves kissing your neck in particular

> partially because he can hide- the insecurity is hard to shake

> but also because he loves coaxing pretty noises out of you

> freaks out when he leaves marks- but also loves the way you bruise after you reassure him it’s okay

> he loves when you lie on top of him, lazily kissing him between giggles

> it makes you seem so small (because gd, he’s 6’9 and built like a brick house), and he can grab your ass all he wants

Bubba Sawyer

> might be the Biggest Kiss Enjoyer out there

> he loves giving kisses all over!!!

> but especially loves peppering your face with kisses until you’re giggling too hard to let him continue

> he also loves getting kisses, because ofc

> he likes when you kiss his tummy, on top of everything else he can be insecure about his build

> and his hands- chances are y’all also have a huge size difference, and he’s always in awe of how little your cheek is in his hand. so he loves when you lean and kiss his palm

> his favorite kisses are when he picks you up and twirls you around

> and then he settles you in his arms and kisses you sweetly

> not too sexual but intimate

Billy Lenz

> this guy 🙄 in a word, frantic

> there is no peck on the lips with Billy Lenz

> whatever your intention, if you don’t pull away literally immediately, it’s getting dirty fast

> he’s all tongue and teeth and giggles

> like Brahms he’s incredibly pent up

> but baby boy is unintentionally (and sometimes intentionally) aggressive

> marks you up like it’s his job- hickies and bites and even sometimes bruises from holding your hips too hard because he’s stronger than he looks

> grabs your hair and tugs your head back to look at you and tell you how pretty you look and babble weird incoherent shit

> he loves you in his lap, facing him and practically grinding up on you as he lick lick licks your neck and any other skin he can between kisses