#slasher requests

[livindeadgirlgrav]

can you plz write headcannons or a story about female reader picking up nubbins sawyer while he’s hitchhiking, one thing leads to another, and she’s riding him to death (not literally teehee) in the back of her van🖤? maybe a bit of dom reader too? thank you so much🖤🖤

Yessss! Of course! Thank you so much for the request! I can totally write a headcanon also if you like! I love my little stories lol

Pairing: Nubbins Sawyer x Dom fem reader

Warning: NSFW!! Very nsfw, mention of drugs, violence, etc

Ps: Not 100% proof read it’s 3am lol it’s possible I overlooked something

You were a lost soul according to your parents, but in your mind all you wanted was to be free. A lot of things gave you that feeling of freedom- music, the open road, and a couple psychedelic drugs here and there. Having all three at your disposal you felt pretty free today. Driving your 72' Ford van you jammed all the way down the road. You hummed at the silk like feeling of the wind running through your fingers as you held your hand out the window. You smiled to yourself when you saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road. Of course you pulled over for them. First off it was way to hot to be walking I mean you were practically naked in your mothers eyes. And secondly he was pretty cute and you didn't have anything to do all day besides seeking that sweet freedom.

Once you came to a stop the strange looking man quickly got in the car. "Hey man? You alright? Its super hot out today. Suppose to be the hottest day of the year." You stated trying to make small talk. The man now in your passenger seat smiled. "Where you heading too hm?" You smiled at him as you started to drive away occasionally looking at him. "South" You nodded. "Same!" You giggled. "So how did you get out here?" You asked softly. "I was at the slaughter house, my brother work there. My grandfather too! My family always been in meat." He chuckled a little liking the attention he was getting from you. "Oh cool, my daddy was in it for a bit too but got a better job as I grew up. I never liked it, it made me sad seeing the poor babies." The man chuckled. "Its good food though, see they make head cheese. T-they take the head and boil it expect for the tongue and they scrap all the flesh away from the bone. They use everything, they don't throw nothin away!" Hearing the man ramble on you thought it was a bit gross but also kinda cute, he was so excited as if he hadn't had anyone to talk to in years. Like a little lost puppy. You giggled a bit, "Well I didn't know that." You smiled at him then looked back at the road. "Oh I love this song" You said turning up the radio, the wind blew into your window perfectly swaying your hair from side to side. Your attention was captured when you saw a flash coming from the man. Looking over you saw the man grinning as he looked at you then his camera. “Hey you took my picture!” You giggled. “You can drive to my house! It’s just down this road! A-and you can have dinner with me and my..” before he could finish you cut him off “Are you asking me out on a date?” You asked as you pulled over. The man looked at you confused. “Let me see.” You said as you scooted closer to him and took the photo out of his hand. “It’s not bad. You wanna take some more?” You smirked at the man.

Before you knew it the two of you were in the back of you 72' Ford van. You made the first move which wasn't unusual for you. At first you whispered sweet nothing into the nameless man's ear, then started nipping at his ear and the skin on his neck, earning soft moans from him. You noted at how edger the man was, noting how he trembled at your touch. Seeing how he wanted to touch you just not sure how. "You can touch me if you want, I don't bite..hard." You giggled then moaned softly as the man place his hand on your exposed thigh. "We can be slow if you like?" The man starred at you in awe and shook his head no. "Good boy." You quickly straddled his lap and began to kiss the man, kissing you back the man placed his hands on your waist. Grinding you kept kissing him till he pulled back a little to let a moan escape his lips. "It feels good doesn't it?" The man nodded as he laid back watching you grind against his lap. Smirking you kept going as you removed your shirt then your bra watching the mans face as he grinned ear to ear. You grabbed the mans chin softly and pulled him to you. Looking down at him you felt very dominate and free. The mans breath hence at the sudden touch, looking up at you he went to kiss you but you moved back slightly. "Tsk tsk so you wanna touch me?" You asked. "Y-yes." The man stuttered. "What do you say?" "Please?.." The man was very impatient as he was so needy, wanting a release. Grinning you placed the mans hands on your chest and he bucked his hips uncontrollably, making you chuckle. You grinned against the man making him shutter and moan. "You are so big." In a matter of seconds you both went after the same thing, his belt. You pushed his hands away and he grunted frustrated. Grinning you undid his belt and then his pants, going to undo yours he stopped you, pushing your hands away lightly. The man quickly unbuttoned your daisy dukes. Lifting yourself up the man pulled your shorts down. Before you even realized he was inside you and you rode him like a bull rider. Hearing his moans, grunts and whimpers. It was music to your ears and he was so unaware.

You both stayed in that metal tin till the sun went down, changing positions and occasionally fighting for dominance (when you won more than once) you moaned as the now naked man trusted into you and kissed on your neck. Grabbing his hair you moaned out, grinding as best you could against. The man moaned as while almost in perfect harmony with you. Before you knew it you both were finishing at the same time, it was something you never experienced before! A feeling washed over you that you swear was familiar but it definitely wasn’t.

Laying in the floor of the van you snuggled up with the man you come to learn to be Nubbins. Finding a old blanket under one of the seats you both snuggled underneath . Surrounded by polaroids of your naked body and of his you both fell asleep on the biggest high you could only imagine.

———————————————————————

Hey! I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so so so much from the request and thank you tons for reading!

[applesontheground]

Can I request a fic with dumbification with Patrick Bateman and a sub reader? Thank you!

Hi, anon! You absolutely can!

NSFW | Word Count: 771 | Patrick Bateman x GN Reader

contains degradation, marking, hair pulling, biting, doggy style, morning sex

It almost felt wrong to let him treat you like this in broad daylight. He held your head against the mattress, the pearl white dress shirt half undone and his well-threaded tie nearly licking the side of your face as he leaned in, the morning glow of a Saturday shining on his own through all the beauty products that he was currently sweating out.

“Don’t you fucking look at me,” He demanded, your watery eyes falling to the wall on the other side of the room. Bile sat on your tongue, and like an itch you had to retort, “M-maybe don’t make me cock drunk, Bateman, and I’ll consider it.”

His hand slipped along the back of your head, finding a fistful of hair to pull and make your entire body peel up and off the bed. Your hands fumbled to support you, now forced to look at him again despite his qualms to keep your eyes off of him.

He wasn’t giving you a choice, and that was what was the most diabolical part. With a hand tickling up your neck, securing your jaw so you couldn’t fight out of the hold, he muttered, “Breaking you down has become the best part of my day, and you have no idea how much I hate to admit that.

...You do understand that’s hard for me to admit?”

You hummed in affirmation, because it was physically impossible to nod.

“What does this lead to in the end, [Y/N]?” He then asked, expression unable to move in some sort of corresponding emotion, his hair disheveled and almost falling back from how he would push it so in the mere seconds you held eye contact. The pressure against your scalp was making it hard to focus, all the more accenting just how impatient your very existence beneath him made the man. Lost in the way he was still slipping in and out, barely letting up on the pace as your jaw opened, closed…opened one more time. “I don’t-“

“You don’t know. Right.” He let go of your hair, making your posture slip as well. Catching yourself with burning palms against the soft sheets, he warned, “I’m going to stop if you don’t get a goddamn grip.”

Agreeing yet again with a dazed mumble, you pushed yourself to sit fully upright, peering over your shoulder at that unwavering cold lockdown of a gaze. He sneered at the gesture, and spat with a venomous tongue, “Pitiful. That’s what you are, and all you will ever be. You know that?”

You nodded, and he had you by the back of the neck with that unforgiving hold he had treated your jaw to, slowing the roll of his hips and making you exhale both from asphyxiation and from dissatisfaction.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He insisted, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Patrick, I’m not worth the fucking time, but I’ve never been taken care of like this, by someone like you.” He started rubbing the top of your spine, finding a satisfying little knot to work on as he listened to you nearly weep, clenching your muscles like it could keep him inside of you, “Please, please just finish what you started.”

He scoffed, but sure enough repositioned and began to rut once again. You were too ashamed to even make a noise, mouth hanging open at the angle where he couldn’t see just how strung out he made you. The insults made it better; it made it worse. You didn’t give a fuck what it did, because what it did felt like you were over the skyline, unable to be touched by your tangible, stressful life.

The shame was burning you alive, but the way it only made him fuck you harder, his sounds more sharp as he careened his body over your back, not shy to start sinking his teeth into your shoulder blades and scratch down your ribs with his well kept nails that somehow still bit like they were feral; it made you cry as hard as it made you moan for more.

Destructive, pitiful – it was all a gross display of how much you two needed each other every morning. It couldn't be had any other way: raw, painful...

Pitiful.

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! HC S/O with chronic migraines

Slasher x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: chronic pain, beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, smidge of angst if you squint

Michael Myers

Doesn’t really do much about it until later in your relationship

After he’s grown more comfortable around you

He has noticed it though, since the first time it happened

He’s an observant man

The severity of migraines can be different each time, reveal various symptoms and overall be a pain in the ass

Michael doesn’t really care much at first

I mean, so what if your head is bothering you?

He’s been shot multiple times and never complained

Although now that he’s actually grown fond of you, he finds himself uncomfortable with the idea of you being in pain

It’s weird, his chest gets all tight, he palms get clammy, his internal war is silent but most definitely raging

I don’t see him as someone who would run a hot bath, or bring you tea and pain medication

I’m not sure he even knows how to show he wants to help

So he just… watches

You’ll be groaning in the kitchen as you heat up some leftovers, turn the corner and oo! Jumpscare

Laying on the couch with a heating pad on your forehead?

For some reason there’s a shadow looming in the adjacent hall

Taking medication?

…Why can you hear heavy breathing

The kinda guy to plop down beside you, in silence, and just let you sprawl yourself across his lap

Probably won’t pet your hair or even touch you, just stare at your closed eyes

3.6/10 care, could definitely improve his score but probably never will

Most likely wants to stab your migraine

He doesn’t understand how it would work though

Thomas Hewitt

A total sweetheart

Just wants to help even though he’s not sure how

Probably would make the pain worse

Sorry! Someone had to say it

This man is so gentle with you, he can’t stand to see you in any condition other than happy and healthy

The kinda guy to promise quiet so you can rest, and then trips over everything in sight immediately after

He’s bulky, what do you expect

Doesn’t like Hoyt making any comments that would make you feel worse

Like that your pain isn’t real or you’re exaggerating

No worries though

One rev of his chainsaw and his uncles lips are sealed

Stay out of the basement

He knows it smells bad, and when he’s working it’s loud

He just doesn’t want your pain to get worse

Had to ask Luda Mae what a migraine when is, and what he can do to help

Will instruct Hoyt to get medication while he’s out

Would honestly take all your pain for himself if he could, seeing you like this hurts immensely

Not a talker, but the body language is strong

The minute you’re rubbing your temple with a rough hand, his shoulders cave in, eyes wide with furrowed brows

He looks devastated

He’s not trying to guilt you

He just hasn’t had someone like you in his life before, and he only wants the best for you

Need a hot bath? He’ll sacrifice his own warm shower later

Muscles cramped? He’s already massaging away as you’re face first on your shared bed

Hungry?… well Luda Mae can take care of that

Would do anything you asked

Ask him to do anything

Go on

He wants you too

Bo Sinclair

Doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone

…I’m sensing a pattern here…

Anyway

Is one of the slashers who actually talks

And while that makes communication easier, sometimes words don’t solve every problem

Can be harsh

Doesn’t mean to be, he was just taught about rage more than happiness from a young age

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care

It’s all with good intentions

Oddly enough doesn’t chastise or mock your pain, you’d think he would honestly, but no

He’d never want to make you feel as though he doesn’t believe you

Does he know how to take care of migraines? No of course not, he is one

Does he go into town to get anything you ask? Yes of course

Won’t baby you, or treat you like glass

He’s a tough love kinda guy

The one that thinks he’s patting you on the back but actually is crushing your spine each slap of his hand

You get the jist

Doesn’t really like Vincent or Lester around you when you’re in pain

Not that he distrusts them

I just think he’s the kinda guy who subconsciously is overprotective, yet will never admit or even notice it

Raises his voice a lot

This man talks in all caps

You need to constantly remind him it’s making your head throb even worse

Or when he starts smoking around you

He’s not doing it on purpose, promise

Will get snarky if you start speaking to him with an attitude, again, it’s not intentional he just forgets you’re in pain and those kinda of things make it worse

Remind him you love him, you just need some silence for a bit

Shuts him up real fast

Calls you doll, doesn’t treat you like you’re fragile though

Pretends to not like your jokes about him being your, “little nurse”

The redness of his ears is an indicator though

Vincent Sinclair

The one I would trust most with a s/o with this problem

He’s not a softy

By any means

Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to manage stuff

Especially when it comes to someone he cares about being in pain

Is one of the slashers I see actually putting the effort in to pamper you

Not extremely advertantly though, more subtle

He’s observant, you need to be when you’re as quiet as him

Notices the minute you start feeling a migraine come on

Will leave little drawings where he knows you’ll find them

So you know he’s there in case you need him

If you want to sit in his studio and just be near him, he’ll just continue working

If you want him to pay attention to you, he’ll start sketching a little doodle of your face

You want to go for a walk outside? He’s not doing that, but will insist Lester accompany you for safety

There isn’t much danger in Ambrose, aside from the Sinclairs themselves, but it calms his nerves

If Bo tries to give you a hard time he’s receiving a cold glare

Would kill anyone who bothers you or makes your pain worse, unless it’s his brothers, but strangers are fair game

I feel like Vincent probably suffers from headaches/migraines as well

They probably manifested at a young age due to the loud, stressful childhood he suffered

Overall, knows how to care for you

Is gentle unlike his twin

Would let you rest your head on his lap and nap there

Wouldn’t move even if he needed to pee, he’s just frozen like a literal statue, letting you use him as a pillow

9/10, but if Bo had a migraine he could give less a shit

Only worries about you

Hope this catered as expected!

I don’t suffer from migraines but my sister does, I’m a little in tune to the pain they cause

Thanks for reading!

Requests are open!

[ahmnom]

Hello there..i see that youre taking requests about making people drawings of the slashers and y/n btw..can you make a rz michael myers with y/n , they are just huging and kissing together because they need a break from taking care their kid/kids and then when they hear a falling object and then they turn back and saw their kid/kids with a 😨😱 face.if you dont mind making it and im sorry for my bad english🙏

Hey! Thanks for the submission! Loved the idea and I hope I pulled it off in a way you’d enjoy :) I had no problem making this! Helps me practice plus I got a new tablet pen I’ve been hella excited to use! Also don’t be insecure about your English :) it’s better than mine and it’s my first language. Hope you enjoy!

[tinalbion]

Hello, could you write something about slashers with a male S/O who is blind and who is not aware that in his eyes it is possible to see the universe? Calm down, I'll explain! The blindness of the reader may have taken away his vision, but it also brought stars to his eyes, ahm, it's kind of confusing, I know! Here, look, it's like the illustration of this owl, see? Its name is Zeus, it is blind and inside it eyes you can see a galaxy!

Continued: "This is embarrassing, but, uh, I forgot to ask for the slasher in my question, so I'll ask this one if it's okay? Haha... Harry Warden, please!"

Oh my dear, I finally got an ask for Harry! I love him so much and I hope this finds you well, just know I didn't forget about you or this amazing idea. It's a very beautiful concept that I really enjoy, so I hope I do this ask justice. He's one of my absolute favorite boys and I want to write for him more!

"Between The Stars" ||

Harry Warden x AMAB!Reader

Rating: None; mentions of cannibalism, general fluff between the reader and Harry, pining

Length: 2.1k

Harry Warden had wanted to leave Valentine Bluffs for so long after the incident, it ate away at him the longer he remained hidden away, but even he was weak and couldn't find it in himself to finally uproot and leave. 

The town had dwindled since the killings began to happen again, he remained far from the mines and had found a liveable set up in an abandoned water tower not that far away from the Bluffs. He remained there for most of the year, but when Valentine's rolled around, he couldn't help but grow emotional over the events that happened so long ago. It pained him that whenever he would see the town going against his wishes, they would learn nothing no matter what he did, so he turned his back on them and remained hidden from view. 

From his hideaway, he saw so many walks of life come in and out of the mining town, most people just visiting family, others that moved away years ago only to come back because of nostalgia. He watched from afar and wondered what life would be like I'd his mind wasn't destroyed by the events he suffered so long ago. Maybe one day he would feel complete again, but it would be almost impossible, he thought, that it would never happen for him and he’d just have to live with that.

As he dreamt of better times, he was unaware of a new visitor that graced the town's grounds, an unexpected fresh face that he never would have paid much mind to.

You were talked into visiting your family despite travel being hard for you considering you were blind, but you thankfully got your friend Gracie to tag along and help you out, she agreed to be your guide and took this as a sign for a well-needed vacation for you both.

She guided you along and described the sights to you the best she could, pointing out the old buildings or monuments that had been standing since you were a child, remarking on the newer housing, and you remembered them fondly as you recalled some old memories. It was making you grow homesick even while you were here, but you knew the reason why you left in the first place, so you held onto that and pushed it down to enjoy the rest of your visit. 

What you found incredibly humorous was that people still talked about the infamous Valentine's Day massacre and how Harry Warden was the sole survivor of the mining accident. Yes, you found it funny to see people would always need to find someone or something to blame when it was themselves they needed to blame all along It was rumored that he ended up caught eventually and shoved into a facility where he was no longer a threat, but that didn't even stop Harry from somehow escaping the facility he was taken to. They claimed he died in the safety of the institute, but why would they want the word that their number one sought-after killer was gone? 

The little whispers around town still continued and they'd never stop, you figured, but it was quite fun to see what silly stories they made up in this day and age. Mostly still the same thing, and since you were visiting before Valentine's Day, you figured you were safe from any unnecessary silliness that could be caused by the town’s kids. 

Gracie had offered to run and get some food for you both while you said you'd stay behind, so she was gone and it left you to explore the familiar area of your old stomping grounds. You found yourself easily falling back into the rhythm of things and made your way to your old favorite spots around town, and when you got to the docks, you could smell the water as you breathed it in. 

You sat here for what felt like ages and hadn't even thought to leave until you felt the briskness of the chill in the air, plus you figured Gracie would be back at the motel by now and probably freaking out.

So you trekked back the way you came, or so you thought as you tapped your walking stick along the ground. You ran into something solid and you came to a halt, wondering just what you should do. You could dial your friend's number and call her, asking her to help find you, but you'd done this loads of times before on your own, maybe you could prove to yourself that you still had it in you. As you removed your hand from your pants pocket and left your phone where it was, you tapped your stick around and found another path that you had no idea where it led. 

As you continued your journey, you truly weren't familiar with this side of town and you had no idea how you got so turned around. Your phone suddenly began to ring and you fumbled for it in your pocket before you pulled it free and answered. 

"Hello?"

"There you are, where are you? I've been worried sick! Are you okay?" Gracie was yelling on the other end, pure panic in her tone. 

You couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah I'm fine, I got a little turned around, but I'm okay. I'm coming back to the motel, I was near the docks, but I don't know where I'm really at now."

"I can come and find you, I'll ping your location and I'll be there, just try not to wander too far."

You laughed again. "Alright, I'll behave. See you soon." 

You hung up and waited for a good five minutes until you got bored, so you said to yourself you'd only wander around the area, not too far off from where you'd been, and then you began to explore. The way things sounded, you were near a small wooded area filled with birds, so you stood there and listened for a bit before stepping off somewhere else. Your ankle rolled and you tripped over something that your walking stick didn't quite pick up on, your body lurched forward, and you tumbled down a small hill. You weren't hurt, just a little shaken up and even more lost than you were to begin with. 

"Ah damn," you sighed. 

As you got to your feet, you realized your glasses had tumbled from your face, so you knelt back down carefully and tapped the ground for them, not finding them anywhere. 

What you didn't know was that you were being watched by someone, they had seen the entire ordeal and had spotted your glasses on the ground just a few feet away from your wandering hand. The crunch of the leaves beneath the stranger’s feet was masked by the fact you were crawling around on your hands and knees 

Your hand came upon something unfamiliar and you tapped it several times until you realized it was a boot that was connected to a leg. You sprang back and gasped.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that anyone was here!" Your hand was placed on your chest and you tried to control your breathing. "I uh, my name is Y/N, I got a little lost on my way back to my motel… Have you seen my glasses anywhere?"

While you were busy talking, the stranger stared down at you, his breathing heavy from the trek, but he lowered his pick ax and continued to stare. You figured they weren't one to talk much, but you lifted your gaze to them and tried to listen to where they were around you. 

"Uh, you don't talk much, huh?" 

The man grunted in response and you smiled gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, maybe you can't talk, who knows. But if you see my glasses anywhere, could you grab them for me?" 

As you looked directly at him, the miner stared down almost dreamily at your eyes and how peculiar they were. It was as if the entire galaxy was taken from the skies and placed gently in your eyes, he'd never seen anything like it. He could have easily stared at them forever, but he knew you'd have to leave him, which was to be expected. 

Your hand touched something and your palm opened, then you felt your glasses drop in your hand along with a gentle feeling of a leather glove.

"Oh, thank you for finding these," you said happily and placed them back on your face. 

"Your eyes," the man's deep, husky voice suddenly said softly, muffled as if something was over his mouth. 

You were taken by surprise and paused as your hands froze. "Wh-what about them?" You asked curiously. You had no idea who this man was or how he found you, but you didn't want to ask just yet. 

"Pretty," was all he said. 

You laughed and looked down, your hands fiddled with your walking stick while your mouth suddenly felt dry. "Thank you, that's very kind of you… My friend Gracie saw them once and she said they looked unique, is that true? I never got to see them, obviously." The little smile you made after speaking only made the stranger feel more interested in you.

"Like stars are in them," he replied shortly. 

Like stars, you couldn't help but find that as unique as Gracie described, and strangely romantic from a stranger you just met. "What's your name?" You wanted to meet his gaze if you could, but kneeling on the cold, crisp leaves beneath you wasn’t so bad.

The man took a sharp breath and wondered what he should do, knowing fully well you were aware of the whispers of Harry Warden, the cannibal monster who snapped, would he ruin this for you completely or would you have no clue? It didn't hurt to test the waters, he wasn't invested completely in you, yet it felt nice that you of all people wouldn't know who he was or about his past. 

You were met with silence again and that's when you sighed with a small grin on your face. "I get it, I'm usually like this with people, too. Uneasy, and untrusting, it's a sign of shared experiences. If I see you again and you're up for sharing, I'd love to know your name." 

It was quiet and then he spoke again. "If I see you again, could I see the stars?"

You bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah, you can see the stars." 

You were alerted to the sound of footsteps nearing you and then the man before you began to take off running, his heavy steps receding further and further away until the pair that you heard behind you were the only ones you could hear. You had wished you could continue your talk with the man, you had enjoyed the shared company and how kind he seemed. It was strange with how awkward he’d been but you didn’t mind, it was nice for a change that he didn’t seem uncomfortable by your condition, he seemed more intrigued than anything. 

Gracie found you on the ground and gasped as she ran toward you. “Y/N, what happened!? Did you fall?”

“Yeah, just a little tumble, I’m in one piece though, we’re all good.” You took her hand and pulled yourself to your feet, then you dusted yourself off as a force of habit. “I promise I’m okay.”

Grace slipped her arm through yours and began to guide you through the wooded area, but you had stopped just for a moment and removed your glasses, hoping that your stranger had seen your gesture that was directed for him, hoping he’d understand that you meant to return one day. 

Harry did see this as he hid amongst the trees, watching the girl guide you carefully, wondering just how long it would be until he saw you again. The one person who wouldn’t run from the very sight of him, the one person who seemed genuinely interested despite the small number of words exchanged on Harry’s behalf. He convinced himself he wasn’t invested, yet here he was his hands gripping the wood of the pick ax, thinking of your eyes and all of the beautiful innocence held within them. If it came down to it, he would kill to see you again.

The miner would try to keep his promise; he would see you again and he would see those stars in your eyes. That was a promise he intended to keep to himself. 

[crackslashers101]

PISS KINK FOR RZ MIKEY, JASON, VINCENT, TOMMY, BILLY, AND BRAHMS??

Authors’ Note:

 We don’t usually do 7 slashers because our max is 5 at most, but we felt generous, since we already planned to do watersports next. We didn’t know which Billy you wanted, so we ended up doing both of the Billy’s for you. You really got spoiled today anon so eat up (in this case quite literally ;3) and enjoy! -  💙 & 💚

Water sports HC’s (GN Reader) 18+ MINORS DNI

!!!WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!

Piss kink/Watersports (urolagnia or urophilia): becoming excited or turned on by the thought, sight, taste or feel of urine.

RZ Michael Myers

Piss wouldn't be on Michaels top turn ons; however, if you’re into it then he would reconsider in respects to you. 

You would have to catch him on a VERY good day to do it but, even then, it’ll be incredibly hard to persuade him. 

You’d have to secretly plan it beforehand, consume gallons of water, and then convince his poor, clueless soul to get in bed and have sexy time with you.

Midway through fucking you, you would have to orgasm so incredibly hard that you piss yourself on the sheets as he is still inside of you.

Michael will be very shocked and pause before finding himself more turned on than he imagined. (He will punish you a bit later for dragging him into your kink unknowingly.)

You have opened a new world to him and he is now more willing to explore your piss kink with you.

Michael would not appreciate having you piss on him or him having to piss on you, but he would not mind it if it happened on the sheets. 

Michael will be considerate enough to help you with cleaning yourself up and the sheets afterward. 

Jason Voorhees

Similarly, Jason would not consider himself interested in piss kinks until he met you. 

You would have to persuade him heavily into going through with it but, once you have, his whole world would change for the better and the worst.

Jason would be more willing to have you piss on him, since he would be concerned about too much of his piss getting all over you. (After all, he is a big man with an even bigger bladder and an even bigger dick.)

He would also be concerned by the fact that your piss kink is new territory for him so he would much prefer you to take charge. 

When you manage to convince and encourage Jason enough to piss on you, he will enjoy it to the point that he would debate with you on who pisses next when it comes to sexy time. 

He will piss ALL over you. Whether it is on your face, body, or feet. ITS EVERYWHERE. 

You will end up using one of each other’s piss as lube.

Jason will be very kind and loving during the aftercare and will ensure you both are clean along with your soiled sheets. 

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent would not be interested in your piss kink whatsoever; however, he will put up with it for your sake.

He was very shocked when you first brought it up to him and it would completely blow out any plans or discussion you guys were going to have.

Vincent would only do it because he must love the hell out of you. There would be a very long discussion about having it in the bedroom beforehand.

He would only allow your piss kink to take place during special occasions such as your birthday, your anniversary, holidays, etc. 

On those special occasions, Vincent would expect you to be in charge entirely because he would refuse to piss on you and it is your idea. 

Vincent will allow you to enjoy yourself completely since your piss obsession would only be allowed on rare occasions. 

You should use the moment to the fullest and piss on him anywhere you want and in any way or position you want. (He is your pissy bitch for the night)

You may also be able to convince him to consume a lot of water and give him a blowjob to suck the piss right out of him with a mixture of both his semen and piss. 

Vincent will sigh after the session is over but help you with the clean up. 

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas would be very unwilling at first but then his curiosity would get the best of him and he’ll agree to it. 

You will have to do some gentle, light pissing on him so he could get feel for it and then it’s almost like you awoke something.

He will eat you out while you piss and continue to do it through your orgasm. 

Thomas would very much enjoy you peeing on his face.

Ride his face while you piss in his mouth and you're never leaving the bed. It’s all over.

On rough days, he would definitely like to piss on you and fuck you until you couldn’t walk afterwards.

After he realizes he very much enjoys being pissed on, he would probably force you to drink a few gallons of water before having sexy time to make sure both of you get a good experience. ;)

Nevertheless, even if he does enjoy sitting in the bed covered in piss, he would definitely want a shower as soon as possible and will carry you to the bathroom.

Billy Loomis

Billy would immediately be on the offense about it and would down right shut the conversation. (He would be a bit grossed out about it)

You would have to have been in a very long-term relationship with him because he would dump you on the spot if you were barely dating for a while.

He would require you to strike a deal with him because he would not be interested in entertaining your piss kink whatsoever. 

It must be an extremely beneficial and appealing idea for him to even consider it. 

When he does agree to it, he will only be willing to finger you while you piss.

He may even lick his fingers just to tease you when he sees how turned on you are.  

When it is all over, he will definitely not be loving nor attentive to you whatsoever. He will only care about getting cleaned ASAP even if you only pissed on his hand. 

Billy Lenz

Billy would not need to hear another word from you after you mention having a piss kink to him. 

He may even be compelled to do it on spot with you and drag you to the bedroom to do it.

He would prefer to piss on you but, if he is in a good mood, he will allow you to piss on him every once in a while. 

You should expect to be degraded HEAVILY as he pisses anywhere on you, including in your mouth. ;)

He will spell his name out on your back with his piss so please enjoy the warm golden shower of his piss covering you.

At some point you will ride his face pissing on him and he would jerk off while you’re doing it. 

Neither of you should leave the bed knowing whose piss is on either of you. 

Aftercare would be soft since he would be thankful that you were open to him and willing to do this in the bedroom with him. Billy would hold you tight before expecting you to go help clean the both of you. 

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms would either cry when you bring up the idea of pissing in the bedroom or be highly intrigued to try it out.

You’d have to explain a lot on how watersports are in the bedroom for him to be more willing and confident enough to try it. 

He would prefer pissing on you rather than having you piss on him so expect him to whip his dick out on you immediately. 

Brahms would have sex with you first but, when he realizes he is close to cumming, he will hover over you with his dick close to your face and jerk off until he ends up pissing and cumming all over you. 

If you had no plans on leaving the bedroom and desire for another round, licking a bit of the semen and piss on your face will get him hard again. 

If you catch him on a good day or after enough experience of pissing in the bedroom, he will allow you to occasionally piss on his body and he may even lick bit of it if it gets on his face.

Brahms would find out he enjoys watersports much more than he expected and will allow it to take place more often.

Brahms would expect you to handle the cleaning of the sheets, but he’ll help you if you need any cleaning material handed to you and will follow you to shower together in the bathroom. 

[jigzigsaw]

being brahms’ nanny

transfem brahms x gender neutral nanny ; sfw & nsft/w

- female brahms would probably go by belle, something simple and feminine with a musical inspiration.

- belle is extremely quiet. you wouldn’t notice anything was amiss in the heelshire estate if it weren’t for the fact your stuff goes missing constantly, and is rarely returned to you in a worse-for-wear state.

- her favorite thing to steal would be your clothes, but if you wear makeup she would definitely steal your lipstick. bonus points if it’s a red, or pinky-mauve.

- the first real encounter between the two of you happens in the library. at first you think your brain is giving in to the loneliness and alcohol, but you see the shape of the woman, cautiously watching you with her porcelain-perfect face from the shadows. you go to her, taking her hands in your own and start humming as the two of you begin to slow dance. you’re so starved for human touch that you ignore the fact there’s a person in your arms until you feel the cold porcelain on your forehead.

- like a totally normal sane person you decide to continue caring for her after it clicks that she’s the heelshire’s daughter.

- her favorite thing to do with you is take baths. she’s a fan of all your different soaps and self care products.

- she’s not as picky an eater as one might assume but she’s definitely got her favorites that are painfully british..hope you like beans & toast.

- being as shy as she is, it’s a surprise when she clings to you in bed. her face is always in your neck and she loves it when you start reading what you were reading out loud to her.

- belle despises malcolm. when she sees you welcome him inside with deliveries it’s like a child watching someone touch their favorite toy until he leaves. afterwards she’ll sulk until you come to her first with reassurance.

- she’s almost always in her mask out of habit but it also helps alleviate her dysphoria, so you encourage her to embrace herself at her own pace and help her little by little achieve matching the inside with the outside.

- as childish as it is, her favorite story is beauty & the beast.

nsft/w beyond this point; 18+

- belle is definitely a pillow humper.

- so submissive that she would dom if you told her to

- she’s so inexperienced, but eager & nearly passes out after cumming the first time you two try anything.

- BRAT.

- extremely into voyeurism. even if you’ve already began a sexual relationship she’d rather watch you from afar with her hand in her pants.

- belle is super sensitive when it comes to her chest, so when you’re groping her boobs she’s already getting weak in her knees.

- queen of somnophilia.

- shes suuuper touchy with you. literally no such thing as personal space from now on.

- she’ll masturbate using your clothes and return them without washing them

- belle associates sex with good behavior so when she’s acting better than usual she’s definitely expecting a “treat”

- size difference kink. she loves that even though you’re smaller than her you easily dominate her.

- “good girl” will have her like putty in your hands.

[dominantslasherking]

hi i'd like to ask what characters you write for?

just so i or maybe someone else doesn't request a character you don't for unnecessarily lol

Well, there's quite a lot that I write for, Typically I normally accept most requests done for any character that I am aware of, and if I'm not, I'll do research on that character so that I can hopefully try to expand my writing skills and write for the specific characters. I typically try to stay in the range of slasher characters, but if you in your book consider that character a slasher, then go ahead and request.

So for anyway requests(Slasher wise), shoot your shot.

[ravennatheraven]

Please send slasher requests

Hi Hello my life is extremely hectic right now and writing is my main outlet at the moment. Please Please Please send requests. I write for any slasher, if I don't know them I will study them! it can also be any prompt slasher or not. I also think that by doing more requests I'll improve my writing! I don't write NSFW though cause idk how the hell to write it lol

[didihorrorblog]

Just drop them in my ask box!

[make-your-own-evil]

Masterlist

image is not mine

Hello, everyone! I thought that I would finally create a masterlist for the blog. :) Here you can find the rules for requests, see who I write for and also browse my work.

Thank you so much for your continued support <3

Who I Write for + Requests

Rules for Requests

[livindeadgirlgrav]

Taken

Pairing: The Grabber x fem reader

Warning: Kidnapping, violence, possible dubcon, manipulation, bad language, toxic, NSFW, abuse, Stockholm syndrome!

A/n: Soo I started writing this story I couple years ago and never got to finish it since my old account got deleted soo Imma have my Frankenstein moment! Hope you like! Also I listen to music to help me write stories soo the song for this story particular is Put Me In a Movie-Lana Del Rey

Ps. I don’t condone anything this character does he’s a bad person like all the other slashers!

First + second person pov! Also alternating pov!

There I was running for my life in the middle of the street. No idea where I was or where I was going just knew I needed to leave. I’ve been with my boyfriend for 4 years now. He was a good man but not anymore. I still can’t wrap my head around what happened to him, all I know is he changed. Let me explain how I got in this situation, to make a long story short I’ll start at this morning.

I woke up to the sound of things being thrown about. “What are you doing?” I asked rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “You are a piece of shit you know that!? I should have left you back home! You are worthless!” Your scum of a man shouted at you. “What did I do!?” He turned around and slapped you hard. “You know exactly! Hiding my shit! You are such a child” You held your cheek as you grit your teeth. “You would probably like that huh? I see how you look at any woman!” You spat at him. He completely ignored you as he found his keys. “I’m going to work don’t be a cunt.” He said slamming the door behind him. You huffed looking around at the mess he created, you two had just moved here and got settled in. You couldn’t believe that you left everything for him! Your friends and family just to be abused by him.

Later on during that night you received a call from the douchebag. “Hey I’ll be home late I gotta work overtime.” This was your chance! You could leave him, stop this madness you’ve learned to deal with and take. Well not anymore once the phone hung up you were fast on your feet packing your stuff. It wasn’t a lot you guys moved a lot and when you move a lot you lose a lot too. Your whole life could fit in a backpack and it did. After packing you decided to take a quick shower and brush your teeth. It maybe took you an hour to do everything, you were trying to be quick and thank god you were for when you put your last shoe on, your prick of a boyfriend was walking in the door. “You liar” you thought as you ran to the bathroom locking the door behind you. “Y/n! What are you doing!? Y/n!” He yelled, as he banged on the door you quickly toss your bag out the bathroom window at this point he was practically kicking in the door. But once you crawled out the window and your feet hint the ground the bathroom door gave in. You grabbed your bag and ran hearing the abusive prick scream your name.

And that’s exactly how I got here, running for what felt like miles till I saw a mysterious man and a black van. “Please help me! Please” I said getting closer to the man noticing he was walking a rather large dog. “A man is trying to hurt me! He’ll kill me if he catches me!” I practically yelled. “Okay, okay I’ll help you.. here jump in here.” The man said opening the back of his van. I knew this was sketchy but anything was better then that ex of mine. After a couple minutes I heard him yell. “Hey excuse have you seen a girl about yay high, h/c hair, e/c eyes?” He sounded out of breath as he should be for chasing me. “No I haven’t seen any girl I’ve been walking Samson here.” The man said watching the other breathless man. Hearing his footsteps fade the van door opened. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!” The man smiled. “You wanna see a magic trick?” You looked at the man finally noticing he had a top hat and dark shades on which was weird to you since it was night time. Before words left your mouth the man grabbed you and sprayed this sticky liquid in your mouth. You coughed for the taste was terrible and sung the back of your throat. Before the man pushed you back and slammed the door you managed to hit and scratch him . “H-hey! W-what did you give m-me?” You coughed out hearing a hush and the van engine turning on. Samson, the dog bark making your ears ring roughly. You fought as hard as you could but you soon blacked out.

“My neck, my fucking neck. I should snap yours for what you did to my neck.” The man growled before tossing you onto a mattress on the floor. Sitting up I looked at him the best I could, vision still blurry from whatever he gave me. Looking at my surroundings to see what I assumed was a dirty basement. “Jesus it’s covered in blood.” You looked at the man as he crouched beside you giving you a good view of his devilish mask. “It’s like I killed someone. You see that?” He huffed showing me his scratched neck then waving his fingers in my face. “Not like you can see shit.” Starring at the man you grew fearful. “I know that you’re scared but I’m not going to hurt you anymore. What I said about snapping your neck..I was angry is all you did a number in my neck.” He chuckled. “I’m not gonna hold it against you” he said in a more light tone scooting closer to you. “I guess now we’re even.” He said was he played with your hair. “You don’t have to be scared, because nothing bad is going to happen here and on that I give my word Johnny.” The man put up two fingers signaling he swore. “You like soda? Hm? I’ll tell you what imma go get you a soda and then- is that the phone? Did you hear a phone ring?” He got a bit closer to your face so close you could feel his breath if it wasn't for his emotionless mask. “I’m going to get see who it is then I’ll get you a soda and then I’ll come back and explain everything hm?” He stood up and walked to the door turning to take one last look before shutting and locking the door. Gripping the mattress, I looked around seeing this dirty basement was pretty nice. Seeing beside me a black phone, I debated on picking it up but who would I call? I asked myself. Not knowing what was in my system I thought it best to try to sleep it off so I did.

When I woke up the lights were off and the door was still shut. Looking around I was able to get a better view of my surroundings. I grasp the black phone, taking it off the hook and holding it to my ear just to easy my curiosity. "It doesn't work, not since I was a kid. Hang it up." You jumped a little at the sudden noise. Hanging up the phone you turned around to see your kidnapper. The man flipped the lights on. " I know you're scared and want to go home." You stared at the man only seeing his figure due to him not being in the line of light. "I'll take you home soon. Its just..ugh everything is fucked up. I got to be upstairs for a while somethings come up." You nodded a little. "What?" you said softly. "Nevermind what." he said in a tone. "Is it someone up there?" Walking into light you saw the mans mask, it was different he had a big creepy smile and he had a small band-aid like bandage on his neck. For some weird reason you found this mask more comforting then the emotionless one. The man growled. "No one can hear anything if the door's shut I sound proofed it myself, so if you wish to scream or yell do as much as you like, you won't bother anyone." You watched the man grab the door and began to shut it. "I-i don't have a home." The man looked at you and walked back into the room so you could see his face. " I will never make you do anything you won't..like." You backed away a bit, deciding to sit down on the mattress. You were uncomfortable to say the less but for some reason you weren't scared. The man noted your sudden change and shut the door behind him deciding it was best to leave then to keeping the conversation going with you. Once the man left you looked around the room, you found a toilet backed away in a little hall way, old rolls of carpet, and a crack in the cement. Not knowing what to do with your recent discoveries you decided it was just best to try to sleep again. It was annoying but what else did you have to do?

You swore it had been forever since your captor came back down to see you. You sat on the bed with your knees to your chest starring at the door. This isolation was killing you. You stared picking the skin around your fingernails causing them to bleed every now and again. You were anxious, did he forget about you? Were you going to starve to death in this dirty basement? Did someone catch him? Did he not what you anymore? What a minute you thought to yourself did you want him to want you? Snapping out of your thoughts as you heard the door unlock and be pushed open. You sat up letting your knees go. The man walked in with a tray of food. "W-what did you put in that?" You asked as you watched the man walk towards you. "Salt and pepper." He chuckled placing the tray at the end of the mattress he sighed. "Eat it don't eat it. You're already down here, why would I need to drug you?" You were beyond starving, scooting to the end of the mattress you pulled the tray back to the spot you were just in. "Thank you." The Grabber leaned his head to the side watching you through the holes in his mask. As you began to eat the man turned to leave. You nearly choked on eggs trying to speak fast enough to catch him. "Hey! ...Stay." The man looked at you over his shoulder seeing you sitting on your knees. "Please...I don't want to be alone." Watching the man he nodded and walked towards you. You moved to the edge of a corner on the mattress so he could sit on the end, which he did. You noted that the man watched you as you ate and drunk the glass soda he put on the tray.

Once you finished you stared at the man. "What's your name?" "What's yours?" He asked uncomfortable answering the question. "Y/n" You said softly. "That's a beautiful name." You smiled a fair blush forming on your cheeks. You knew none of this was right, especially how you were feeling. Why were you okay with this? You kept asking yourself. "Why did you take me?" Asking softly the man growled a little not liking the question. "I couldn't leave you." He answered, knowing you weren't going to get any more detail you nodded. "Are you the man on the TV? Who took those boys?" You watched his face, his eyes looking for some humanly reaction, but nothing. "That wasn't me, that was someone else.." Not believing him fully you decided to not try to pull more info. "Who was that guy?" Finally asking you a question. "My ex boyfriend bf/n." "Why were you running from him?" You looked down not wanting to talk about it. "He was abusing me. Physically" The man studied your face, scooting closer to you he pushed your hair behind your ear. Looking at his eyes then the smiling mouth of his mask, without thought you reached to touch the mask but as your finger tips grazed the surface the man grabbed your hand tightly moving it away from him. You jumped a little at the sudden movement making the man huff. Letting you go the man stood and walked to the door taking the tray with him. "Wait! I'm sorry I won't do it again." You begged but the nameless man pulled the door to leaving it unlocked. Running to the door you went to open it but you hesitated, leaving the door alone you walked back to the mattress.

After that day you would only see him when he brought you food. You hated yourself for ever trying to touch his mask. He didn't talk to you and he always wore his emotionless mask. You grew to seek his attention and presence. Not knowing if it was the isolation or just the simple fact you were weirdly attracted to him. Not having no sense of time you woke up on what felt like the 50th day, laying curled in a ball watching the phone swing. "Stop it.." "Stop what?" Jumping up you looked at the man seeing he only had his mouth piece of his mask on. "What are you doing?" You said shaky, looking down at yourself just to see if anything was out of place. "I didn't touch you." You looked up at him without lifting your head. "Don't look at me like that." He said with a voice crack at the end. "I just wanted to look at you.." Feeling your breath hence, you pulled your knees to your chest. The man stood from the spot he was just crouching at and walked to you. He sat in front of you starring at you never breaking eye contact. "Your eyes are blue.." He nodded. "My name is Albert. But don't call me that." You smiled softly liking that he was opening up to you, it made you comfortable but it also made these stupid butterflies fly around your semi empty stomach. "Can I call you Al?" You knew who he was, he was The Grabber, the man all over news who took those boys, but you questioned your reality wanting to believe it wasn't him like he said. You did believe it but not in your heart. He nodded as he raised his hand to your face softly brushing his finger against your cheek, you tensed at the contact but relaxed as he continued. Slowly he moved his hand to your chin rubbing it with his thumb and index finger before he rubbed your bottom lip with his thumb. Heart beating fast and loud like a drum you watched him his eyes going back and forth from your lips to your eyes.

"Al."you said breathlessly. Hushing you the man lend in and pressed the lips of his mask onto yours. So many thoughts ran through your head. Should you push him away? Kiss the cold fake lips? Or just sit there? Without thought you kissed the lips of the mask back then pulled away as he did. Albert stared at you his eyebrows raised giving him a sad look. "Al?" He stood up without a word and walked out locking the door behind him, leaving you there alone and confused.

Weeeeelllllll this is part 1 of the story! I hope you guys like it! I'm sorry it's so long but man when I get a story I just can't stop lol anywho part 2 should be up later!

[applesontheground]

could you write a nsfw piece with patrick bateman and a timid fem reader who’s started working at the office with him, which he doesn’t like because yk, misogyny. so, he invites her over and he’s degrading her and just being cruel under the guise of just hooking up but she surprisingly likes it. thank you!

i could absolutely do this, anon! (forgive me for the misogyny, though, lol!)

lion's den 💼

NSFW | Word Count: 1,931 | Patrick Bateman x Female Reader contains DUBCON/unwanted touching, very casual workplace misogyny/sexual harrassment, mentions of drug use, degradation 🎼: x

Even after tenure had weathered you well into your position in the workplace, there was still a subtle hostility every time you sat in the line of mostly single, mostly lawless men. It honestly fascinated you to see such clean-cut faces never progress past what you might have seen on a college campus, to do the things they did outside of work – but you kept that to yourself.

Like you didn’t do a line in those club bathrooms every so often.

Any threat posed by you wouldn’t be taken kindly to. It was as though an elephant had stampeded through the room as you sat yourself at the conference table, a small portfolio splayed in front of you. The presence was loud enough, the mere appearance that you were the only woman there, and that there was no need for a throat clear or even an adjustment in your chair that would break such fragile silence.

This only became worse when you were directed to lead the conference, your branch at Pierce and Pierce being the one under question, and so early in the morning on top of it. Just one good thing for you after another. Your voice began to take control. Rather, set on top of the surface of the room as all your male coworkers acted like it was holding any actual water. Everything was so fabricated you were close to tearing your own hair out should you be left alone.

“Any questions?” You asked towards the end of the display you had put on, oblivious to what was about to happen as you closed the portfolio. “[Y/N], I’m sure you get this question a lot,” You glanced up, interested at first until you heard a snicker from the other side of the conference table. You held your breath, gaze frozen to your coworker Turner as he went on, “But you know, you could leave us to do this sort of planning.”

Your throat tightened, a confused smile crawling over your expression as you lied, “I’m sorry, but I don’t-“

“Boys. He means us as in men, sweetheart.” The snickering voice finally broke into his abrasive tone, and the table couldn’t help but laugh along. You smirked, the fake chuckle in your mouth drier than you had meant it as you clasped your hands together, a quiet murmur above the voices, “Yes, I am aware. Not now, though, but maybe one day.”

“One of us could pick you off the vine,” Your teeth pressed together in their interlock, pressure building badly in your face as the smile became jagged. “Settle down, have some kids...”

“Turner, cut the shit. Not at the conference,” Another piped up, but he was leaning back in his chair; a posture he had worn the moment you had opened your mouth.

He watched this from afar, a few catches of the eye all he got from you as he took it in. Something was starting to cave underneath that smile, he figured, but the utter disdain he caught as you closed your mouth to run your tongue over your teeth. A sign of disgust, she’s hiding it well.

I wouldn’t tolerate blatant undermining from these men, he then concurred, more for a stroke at his own ego than any kudos to you. It was simply a power play, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t flat out admit it was delicious to watch. A dark tress of his own psyche asked the question, looking to the man who was leading the berating in harmless breaths. Why does Turner think that he has any sort of control over [Y/N]? Besides being a man, his performance at best runs alongside hers – let alone struggles to maintain even her average pace.

When he looked back over to you, pulling from the cyclone behind his glassy brown eyes, he then caught the stare that was quickly moving on, throwing itself to the window in a surprised flash of [y/e/c].

Was she staring at me? His mouth twitched from behind a curled hand, still doing his best to appear disinterested.

Why?

Maybe you could understand why there was such heavy drug use outside these walls now. Standing in a secluded break area, away from the council of airheads and with your cup of coffee, you recalled you had a flask in your office. Would anyone notice the spiked coffee? You thought with a smirk, but then seeing a glance of yourself in the crystal clear pot you were setting back in its place on the maker, you stomped the moment’s happiness back down with a following thought.

They’d notice if it was you.

“Oh, Miss [L/N]? Are you busy?” You almost didn’t recognize the voice of Jean, one of the secretaries for the VPs. You didn’t know if she was Constance or Bateman’s girl, but she cleared that up rather quickly with an introduction, stepping into the room with a downturned smile that did nothing to hide the intimidation she was feeling. “Jean, Mr. Bateman’s secretary. Have we spoken before?” You outstretched your hand and replied quietly, “Don’t believe so. Knew you helped one of the Vices here, though.”

She nodded hurriedly and mentioned, “Mr. Bateman told me that you were great at the meeting today. He…” She faltered, and you turned away from the counter fully, mug in hand and eyebrows furrowing. It was something you once again saw coming from a mile away, but still left the poor secretary to spit it out. “He wanted me to find you so that he could ask if you’d stop in his office at around two today. Go over your plans for the upcoming…uh-“

“Transfer?” You finished for her and smiled along when she beamed and nodded to you, “Yes, that. The transfer.”

You nodded, only thinking for a moment before answering, “Tell him I’ll be there, but I have another quick meeting at four. It’s a tight fit but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Seeing that smile on her face again as she nodded for the third time in five minutes, you then admitted to her, “I’ll be honest, it felt like he was the only one taking me serious during the stand-up this morning.” Jean hummed in agreement, and mentioned, “He takes the girls here very…coldly, I think. I-It’s better than being laughed at, I suppose.” She paused, and then pleaded, “Oh, don’t tell him I said that.”

You winked at her, “Of course not. It’s between us.”

At two, you went down the hall with your portfolio (just as infamous as you were at this point). Jean gave you a meek smile to see you enter the small office that came before Bateman’s quarters, and before she had even got on the phone to tell him the door opened.

“[L/N],” He greeted, and you caught that he was overtly warm as he gestured inside. You wondered if this was going to be anything of substance, but still walked in with the same level of mock joy. “Bateman, glad to meet with you.”

The door closed behind you, and there was an almost serene silence as he walked over to his desk. A careful finger dragged on the page of his open planner, checking something while you merely stood there.

“You know, I think Turner had a point.” Your eyes grew cold, staring at him as he stood from his desk, eyes still on his planner as he closed it. He then stated in a plain voice, “You’re far too incompetent to be leading this transfer.” You scoffed and were about to mention something about tenure when he suddenly froze up and looked at you. It wasn’t a friendly workplace stare or the stifled contempt you had seen from coworkers before. It was irritating, downright callous as he seemed to already be looking past you. You couldn’t help but stand a little straighter as he then approached, still in a leisurely stroll.

He got uncomfortably close, and you almost pressed into his office door as he murmured, “I think that you take disrespect far too often to ever be taken seriously, [Y/N]. It’s embarrassing.”

For once, you received this sort of comment from a sharp voice that was a little more than a complicated strain of hot air. He meant that, something he wasn’t just regurgitating from his peers. It was honest, and it was making your face catch fire as you muttered, “I’ve earned my place here just as well as half the trust-fund children who bought their way here, Bateman.”

Part of you was downright terrified of losing your pristine mask, frowning as you gave his well-fit suit a glance up and down. He was doing the same, and the two of you met eyes at the same time. He then sighed, “Well, I don’t think it’s going to get you anywhere. Especially not here."

You dug your tongue into your cheek, and snapped back, “I don’t need to be anywhere else besides here.” A pause, and you quickly clarified, “In this office, doing these busywork transfers and inventory checks so you men can go on, do coke and fuck whoever you want in your free time.”

He took in a breath, facing you and not shy to start backing you into the door. It should’ve made you leave, but that same hollow reminder that HR wouldn’t do anything kept you glued to the door, trying to stand your ground even while downright petrified. You wondered if Jean had heard the door shift from your shoulders sliding up against it.

It shouldn’t have made you wet, either, but knowing he was speaking his mind – his cruel, lucid mind – was going straight to the part of you that desired that. You desired drugs, you desired distraction, but you desired something real more than any of it.

Suddenly, his hand slid up your thigh, and your mouth fell open to yelp but he silenced you with nearly boxing you against the door, feeling the heat kept between your legs even through the layers of fabric, the guise of professionalism. The shock melted into pleasure as he watched you crumble bit by bit, pressing harder against your sex just for good measure.

“Do you bring this on yourself because you like it?” He then asked, scrunching his nose, “That’s deplorable.”

“Please,” You huffed, “It's only because you've been the only man who means it.” His neck straightened, no longer ogling your body to see you smile at him in a wicked prick of the lips, “I hear it all the time from these goddamn parrots we work with. Turner heard it from Allen, Allen heard it from Constance…But that’s the first time a man has had the brain power to call me deplorable.”

His hand left your crotch, and he almost seemed taken back by the way you smiled. You then asked, “Are you telling human resources about this, or are you going to make a woman do it?”

He scoffed now, and reminded you, “They wouldn’t do anything.”

Grinning, you agreed, “I know.”

He was stunned again, watching you adjust your clothes from where he had haphazardly pushed them aside. “Let me know if you have any more concerns about the transfer, Mr. Bateman.” You plainly stated, turning the knob to his office door before excusing yourself.

You closed the door, and Jean and you both jumped when his fist pounded against the door. You stood with your back to the wood, and when you met the secretary's eyes, you merely smiled.

"That wasn't cold at all."

[slashersidewhore]

I am begging for Vincent Sinclair fluff. I just want to be held by him ahhh

Vincent Sinclair! HC Comforting his S/O

Vincent Sinclair x gn!reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort, soft Vincent, no y/n usage

It had been a long day, and quite frankly you were ready to just get into bed and let your mind be at peace. The day had started as it normally did, waking up beside Vincent, his soft snoring filling your ears. He didn’t sleep with his mask on, although he made it a habit of laying on his side so the scarred part of his face was obscured by one of the pillows. You’d softly curled your arms around his torso, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck, ushering him gently awake.

Vincent normally wasn’t one for breakfast, he normally just went down to the basement after waking and waited until you would bring him lunch later. That’s of course when the first incident of the day happened. You had left the man to work in peace with a kiss on the cheek, allowing his space as you went off to the kitchen. Bo was there, sitting alone nursing a furrowed brow and cup of coffee. The two of you exchanged greetings, as you beelined for the fridge. Reaching for the eggs to start your breakfast off, your grip faltered, jumping back slightly when the whole carton hit the floor. Unfortunately Bo wasn’t exactly in the best mood, although he usually wasn’t. His mug hit the table, head eyes narrowing as you crouched to examine the eggs that in fact, had all been cracked and spilled all over the tile.

“Are you kidding right now? Produce ain’t cheap around these parts, and there you go wasting it.”

Now you and Bo weren’t unfriendly, in fact if it wasn’t for the man you’d never of met Vincent. But he did have a rough side, and a temper to match that often broke when even the slightest didn’t go his way. That was just the beginning of your day of mishaps though, it was as if the universe was against you. You had gone on to step on a rusty nail barefoot, the small, metal object embedded in your skin that was a pain to remove. Deciding to get some fresh air you’d gone to see Lester, who was more than happy to oblige your help with the road kill pit. That was until you’d accidentally fallen into the pile of fetted, rotten bodies of torn, bloated animal parts, your skin and clothing smelling of shit. Maybe you didn’t need any sun today.

After your run in with the pit, you thought a shower could do. Peeling off your dirty clothing, you were met with the unpleasant realization all the hot water had been used, leading you to shower beneath the pelting cold that gave you the chills. Washing up as fast as you could get clean, you went to remove yourself when your foot caught on something, falling back and slapping your nose against the wet, shower wall. The sting was dull, red streaks entering the drain as your face scrunched in pain.

That’s how you ended up here, hands shaking with self disappointment as you stare at the ground. All you’d wanted was to get Vincent, and curl up in bed, relax and get your mind off of the god awful day you had. But now you were forming a cold sweat, legs trembling and your cheeks grew red, eyes filling with unshed tears. The small, wax shards were scattered on the ground before you, the once in perfect little sculpture broken beyond repair. All you wanted to do was go to bed, and now you’d ruined a piece of Vincent’s art. As if anything couldn’t get any worse.

Warm drops met your cheek bones, tears rolling down one after another, constant and quiet against your silent sniffles. A gentle palm planted planted on your shoulder, swiftly turning your body around. Vincent stood before you now, hand still firmly on your shoulder as the one eye he had left was widened behind the hole in his mask. Your bleary gaze left his, ashamed and hating yourself as you looked to his wax covered, heavy black boots.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it, honest.” Your voice was wavering and quiet, trying to contain sobs as you continued to avoid his gaze. You could see from the corner of your eye as he shifted to look over your shoulder, eyeing the sculpture in question you had apparently ruined. Rough in texture yet gentle in nature fingers lifted your chin, angling your face so you could see his sure to be angered reaction. Although he didn’t appear angered, in fact he seemed worried, his own arms trembling as you continued to sob.

Vincent was quick to pull you into his embrace, one hand on the small of your back, while the other cradled your head to his chest. You could feel the cool plate of his mask’s lips pressing into the crown of your head. You were confused as to why he wasn’t upset, although it wasn’t catching you that off guard considering Vincent had never been anything but kind to you. Circling your arms around his middle, you tugged the man as close as possible, ignoring the way your snot was surely getting on his sweater collar.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Vincent could care less about the now shattered art, if it was anyone else he would’ve lost his temper, but it wasn’t just anyone. Your sweet voice filled his ears, the soft sniffles you released every few seconds was slowly breaking his heart, now consumed by the need to make things right. Hell, you could knock over the most precious, time consuming sculpture he’s ever made, and he’d forgive you. At your words, the man shook his head, trying to convey without words how he truly felt.

He was a few inches from your face, eye shining with something as he gazed upon your face. With a free hand, he pointed to himself, then you, and shook his head. Your brows furrowed momentarily, head tilting ever so slightly.

“You and I?” He shook his head a firm no, pointing once again but this time at the shattered object on the floor as well, “You’re not mad at me.” You sighed as he nodded in agreement to what you said. You fell forehead first into his chest, nudging his jaw with the bridge of your nose. The silence was broken by a raspy, unpracticed, southern drawl of a voice, quiet yet at the same time all consuming in a way that tightened your chest.

“Could never be mad at you.”

Hope who requested this liked it!

As always requests are open to smut, angst and fluff

[ahmnom]

May I request Y/N showing Thomas Hewitt some of the books she's reading? Like maybe pointing to her favorite line/scene while he leans over to look :]?

They’re reading together :D hope you like this bc I had fun!

[tinalbion]

How Brahms would react if the reader had caring and loving parents with her... How to send usually handmade gifts (a wool coat or a wool scarf) and even food by mail, always calling the reader asking if she is eating well and in good health...

Oh, of course! Nothing I love more than Brahms getting some well-deserved love and affection sprinkled with a little bit of angst.

"Falling Deeper" ||

Brahms Heelshire x AFAB!Reader

Rating: None

Brahms hadn’t had the healthiest childhood or adulthood, his parents kept him in the wall and used a doll to project their “dead” son to the world, which people mistook for an odd way of grieving. He never knew loving parents or the therapy he needed to get better. He knew nothing but heartache.

So to say there would be an odd feeling of jealousy would be an understatement. Brahms is used to getting things he wants and that’s just how it is for him, but hearing the stories you tell about your parents is always a painful thing for him. He loves to know there are people out there who aren’t like his parents but also why didn’t he get parents like that? Sometimes the anger he feels isn’t meant to be directed toward you, but he has a hard time controlling himself sometimes. You understand and try not to take it personally.

When he would listen in on your conversations on the phone with your parents, he’d overhear everything you’d say, and what got him feeling more comfortable with the idea of your parents is when they’d ask about him. You’d go into detail about how he was and what he’d do, how talented he was with music or how well he helped you around the manor. It made him feel warm whenever they’d ask about him.

Later on, he’d begin to ask more about them in return, asking if and when he’d be able to speak with them on the phone or write them alongside your own letters. He liked the idea of pretending to have a family that loved him. After all, if you loved him as much as you did, then maybe they could accept him, too.

When you started receiving care packages, that’s when Brahms was the most excited you’ve seen him. Your parents would send you the most wonderful pieces that your mother handmade just for you, like winter coats and accessories, and Brahms was amazed by the absolute care and detail that was put into the projects. Since you were sized differently from him, he asked you if they’d ever think of sending him things that he could wear. He had always wanted a super soft scarf for himself, so he’d ask you to ask them on his behalf.

The first time he received his very own little package was a day you knew you’d never forget. When you called him downstairs and held out the box for him, he seemed off-put and confused. “This package is for you, my parents decided to send you a little something for the holidays.”

“For me? Really?” His eyes went wide and he almost became too overpowered with excitement as he reached for the box and sat cross-legged on the sofa and tore at the tape like it wasn’t even an obstacle. Since that day, he was always excited to know how your parents were, he cherished them as much as he could from so far away, and he loved to read the letters they sent to you both. He wore that scarf for three months straight in between washings, it was hard for him to let go of that thing. But he gushed about it all the time and even constantly thanked your mother during phone calls, to which she responded by sending more lovely things for him to wear, like hats and mittens for the winter months. 

At one point, Brahms would even want to send gifts of his own to them, of course, you helped him fill a box with things you knew they’d like, and little tasty treats he helped you bake. He hadn’t been this excited in a very long time, and you could see in his face that the jealousy he harbored at first was extinguished and all he felt was acceptance and love. You loved seeing him come out of his shell the more you and him bonded, so you always shared the specialty-cooked foods that they sent you.

At the end of the day, you couldn’t have been happier to have parents that truly cared for your well-being, and Brahms’s. You felt that he needed it the most and you were thankful when he finally accepted the attention rather than pushing it away, so every night you’d remind him how much you loved him and that you were proud to have him as a part of your family.