Summary: You were only meant to feed the cat, you didn’t expect a killer in the house, a killer who was rather interested in you. And you were interested in him.
Your parents were away for the weekend, so they asked you to visit and feed the cat while they were away.
On your way home from work, you decided to stop by to feed the cat.
Hello! This is my first post so please consider rebloging. Thank You.
Pairing : Sam Winchester x GN!Reader
Warnings : At the end theres detailed NSFW.
General:
♡ He loves to read. He's either reading something or watching some documentary. Even though his job is centered on an ungodly amount of research, It's his favorite thing to do. He finds filling his brain with unnecessary information both time filling and a good distraction from his overall struggles. He likes to read nonfiction , autobiographies, history, or even science fiction on occasion. He carries around a little notebook with all his notes in it. He literally only owns two pencils and ONE black ballpoint pens. None of his notes are remotely organized - he just writes shit down and calls it a DAY. He has no time for that.
♡ He doesn't really like to go on social media a whole lot. He says it's a waste of time. Which he isn't wrong. Though he enjoys being on Pinterest. He likes looking at different art styles (though he doesn't make any art himself), finding new recipes to try, and looking at aesthetics. He says the aesthetics make his brain happy. He'll occasionally go on TikTok because he likes to keep up with the "inside jokes".
♡ He feeds stray animals.
♡ He advocates for marginalized groups. He signs petitions for things and he tries his best of being informed of current power struggles. He has a BLM Keychain on his keys.
♡ He eats a lot. He eats very healthily and cooks on his own take the man to a Chinese restaurant and he will get at least 5 plates. Like save some for us. He's a tall guy who works out so obviously he's gonna eat a lot of protein and. Anything so,eone cooks for him he'll eat and enjoy it. He's not a picky eater considering how he ate when he was younger. . But he hates pickles.
Romantic:
◇ Acts of service is definitely his love language . He will cook and clean and do whatever is needed from him with no hesitation simply because he loves you. He takes household chores very seriously. You both spend Sunadys cleaning the house and doing laundry.
◇ He loves when you wear his clothes. It makes him feel needed.
◇ He always takes care of you and makes sure you're safe as well as happy. If the slightest thing is off he goes above and beyond to make sure you're alright.
◇ He is extremely touchy. Especially in private. He's always touching you whether your legs be touching , arms , or hands by just being next to each other.
"Could you please move? It's too hot for this."
" No I'm comfortable."
◇ "My love" "Darling" " Sweetheart"
◇ He likes to spoil you. Whether it be food, flowers or clothes.
NSFW:
♤ Filthy disrespectful sex. He likes to get you all riled up. He has no problem teasing you in public. He has no problem fucking you in the middle of the store if you decided to break a rule or be a brat.
♤ Way kinkier than he looks. That being said he takes safewords very seriously especially during roleplay concepts.
♤ The thought of his partner squirming underneath him makes him hard.
♤ He says he will be gentle then purposefully gets you extremely turned on to the point where you no longer want him to be gentle. Theres a pit in your stomach and your core is aching. Why on earth would you want him to be gentle?
♤ He has a filthy mouth. He talks about what he's going to do to you, the sounds youre making and how you make him feel. He likes to see his partner react to the smallest of things.
♤ He is godly at giving oral and using his fingers. He gives his partner purely for his own pleasure more than anything.
♤ He loves to praise his partner.
♤ He tosses his partner around in bed.
♤ The nicknames come in tenfold.
"Baby" "Doll" "Darling" "Goregous/Handsome"
and a personal favorite
"Pretty Girl / Boy"
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
I hope this was enjoyable to read. Please let me know what character you'd like me to do next. ♡
Ace is such a controlling everything, one hundred percent dominant and perfectionist, but... how about taking care of him after the hotel fire? Burns, cuts, beatings - all this reduces mobility to a minimum, and would he like to continue moving? On the one hand, he probably feels very weak and vulnerable, which he definitely does not like, and on the other hand.. Will he want to continue to be strong when sweet S/O takes full control of him?
🕷 Unsurpassed Ellie, as before, I just want to inspire you with some thoughts and encourage you to write beautiful. In other words, don't take it as an "order" or a request to write something specific, write if you really want to write about it! It is for this reason that 🕷my🕷 ideas do not necessarily have to be answered or rushed with it. First of all, I want it to bring you pleasure, and not seem like an obligation or a duty to the reader. /Have a wonderful day, dear/
Asa Emory’s S/O Taking Care Of His Injuries
A/N: Asa Emory. My most beautiful, strange freaky little cat boy meow meow. Thank you for requesting, my love! I appreciate your kind words and I hope that you like what I’ve written!
Asa is control-freak, through and through. He’s never had to rely on anybody and could’ve gone the rest of his life without doing so.
After his hotel burnt down, he came home to you in the worst shape you’ve ever seen him. He had cuts, burns, and bruises all over him.
When you started fussing over him, he insisted that he was fine and didn’t need your help at first. You demanded he sit down and just let himself be taken care of for once.
You won that fight because he was too tired to protest.
As soon as you started tending to him, he knew he was fucked.
Your soft touch, your gentle voice, it was all so intoxicating in a way he hadn’t ever felt before.
He wonders if this is what it would’ve felt like to actually been cared for as a small child.
He cannot help but melt in to your ministrations, all his walls crumbling down.
“You don’t have to be so strong all the time, Asa.” You say as you cradle his head against your stomach.
His shoulders start to shake. He wraps his arms around you and buries his face in to you and silently cries in to your shirt.
You stand there, trying to hold back your own tears as your fingers run through his hair and rub his back and shoulders.
In that moment, Asa is certain that he cannot ever live without you. You’ve seen too much and he’s too addicted to your love to let you go.
Summary: You loved your husband more than anything. He was your reason to live, you knew about his hobby and you feared something bad could happen to him.
When Spann called you, you felt as if someone threw ice-cold water all over you.
The news of your husband almost dying scared you beyond anything. He was the center of your world, your everything. If you were to lose him…
Hello I’m so excited to read your writing! I was wondering if you could write a Jesse scenario where his s/o is in college to be a funeral director and she’ll just tell him random facts about embalming and funeral laws that she learns from her classes.
I got you babe! I actually almost went to college for mortuary school, but ended up choosing another path. It’s super crazy how much stuff I’ve learned though! Weird things going on at funeral hopes 😬 onward though!
Jesse with an s/o who is studying funerals in college:
Jesse’s phone buzzed in his pocket, his gloved hand quickly reaching for it. A text message from a contact labeled “my princess” read: ‘did you know that sometimes gas can trapped in caskets from the bodies and make them EXPLODE?!” He chuckled to himself silently and responded “No, I didn’t. That’s very interesting, princess.”
You, in the middle of a college class, smiled at your phone before setting it beside your laptop. You couldn’t wait to bombard Jesse with all of the weird, crazy, and absurd things you learned today. He was always such a great listener and made you feel like the smartest person in the world. He always praised you when you spewed out random facts throughout the day, stating how he was so proud his baby girl had not just a beautiful face, but a beautiful brain as well.
As your classes came to an end, you headed to your dorm and dumped your school things in the corner. Glad you had the rest of the day to spend with Jesse, you sauntered over to your wardrobe and put together an outfit you knew Jesse would die for. After changing, you threw your hair into 2 loose pigtails and headed downstairs. Jesse’s assistants were waiting for you at the curb to drive you to his house. You hopped into the back seat, brushing away the hands offering to help you in.
The ride was short, but felt like an eternity to both you and Jesse. He paced in front of his door slowly, anticipating your arrival home and missing your soft fingertips on his arms. At the heavy double doors of his house swung open, you revealed yourself and walked right into his arms. He missed you so much. SO. MUCH. You giggled into his chest, missing his touch thought you had only been gone for a day or two. He petted your hair gently as you looked up to him and said “you know you could never be buried under a tree?” He stood there unmoving, subconsciously urging you to continue.
“Yeah, because if you bury them directly under the roots, the tree will die. So you either have to be buried next to it, or grow a new one on top” He nodded in approval and motioned for his assistants to take your bag and coat for you. He began journeying to the bedroom and took a seat on the bed, patting the spot beside him.
“Also, sometimes dead bodies can move or even sit up on their own due to the energy leaving their body! I’d probably cry if I saw that!” You continued. Jesse pulled out his phone and before you could wonder what he was doing, your phone beeped. You looked at the screen to see a text from him, “I’ve seen that happen once or twice. I’m glad you’re learning and having fun, baby.”
You wrapped your arms around one of his and pulled him to lay down. He turned toward you, seemingly studying your face. “What?” You asked, feeing suddenly self conscious. His shoulders shook with what you could only assume was laughter before he rested a gloved hand on the side of your face and pressed his forehead against your own. “I love you, Jesse” you mumbled quietly. He pointed an index finger at his heart, then at yours.
You had it all when you were with him.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
I’m sorry this scenario was so short 😭 I really started running out of ideas for this which is not uncommon for me. I do really love laid to rest though so I’m going to try and work on my writing skills for Jesse.
Im also VERY SORRY I couldn’t fit more fun facts or laws into this fic, I tried to gather some online but there’s only so many ways i can google “funeral fun facts”😭 Another thing I’m worrying myself over is portraying these big guys accurately (or at least accurate for a fan fiction) so if they seem wonky or too ooc LET ME KNOW love y’all xoxo <3
What do you think the slashers would get up to in a more normal world where they just got therapy and DIDN'T kill anyone? Like I think Brahms would've become a composer tbh, I headcanon he writes his own music? And Tommy'd probably still just work in the slaughterhouse or, if the slaughterhouse still closed down, as a farmhand??
What if the Slashers never became Slashers?
Thomas Hewitt
If the slaughterhouse never shut down, Thomas would definitely still be working there. It's the only real job available for people in that town, for many it will be their first and last job.
However, if the slaughterhouse still closed down and Charlie didn't instantly jump to cannibalism, Thomas would be eager to get back to work.
I see him working physical labour. Thomas knows that his strengths are, well...he's strength.
I could see him working as a farmhand or in construction of some sort.
Plus, it would really work on his confidence. Having a job where his natural size and strength were something to be proud of, that helps him and makes him effective.
Hopefully he'll get some nicer co-workers...I just want him to be happy.
Michael Myers
Michael is in therapy his whole childhood. His family spot the early signs that cause concern and get him help.
He's still pretty quiet, not super social, but not mute or irresponsive.
I remember reading a post ages ago about Michael receiving effective therapy and receiving consistent support from his family and I wanted to link it here but I couldn't find it again, I feel like that said everything I want to say 😂
Anyway, maybe he still spends some time in Smith's Grove but gets released back into he parent's care.
He develops a really good relationship with Laurie. She grows up visiting him and becomes an encouraging factor in his therapy.
In this universe, I suppose Michael would be a 'functioning psychopath' if that's what you want to call it. He'd still have a personality disorder but he has developed coping mechanisms to help him in life.
It's difficult to say what he might go on to do career wise but I think for Michael it's more important and interesting to think about his interpersonal relationships.
Jason Voorhees
Camp counsellor Jason!
Now, I can see this going two ways.
Firstly, lets say Jason loved camp. He made at least one friend, got to a bunch of fun activities, summer camp was the best time of year for him even if it wasn't perfect.
In this case, Jason would go back to work there so he could give other shy and bullied kids the same experience.
Alternatively, everything went the same expect Jason didn't drown. He was still thrown into the lake, the kids still laughed, the counsellors still weren't around, but he somehow survived.
He would have still hated camp but that would be what motivates him to go and work there.
He wanted it to be better for other kids, to make sure that if another poor child got tossed into the lake, there would be a counsellor around to protect/save them. He would be there for them.
Brahms Heelshire
As much as I love the idea of Brahms becoming a composer, I have to admit that I have less faith in him.
Assuming that his parents still spoiled him beyond belief and let him get away with shit, just no fires or death or anything, Brahms would be a little shit his whole life.
He'd become a rich fuckboi.
He'll have gone to some private school.
He'd have every opportunity to become a composer, so it's absolutely possible, I just imagine he would go through a 'rebellious' phase.
He's smart and I'd imagine he'd get pretty good grades, it will just take him some time to calm down and actually get his mind set on a career.
He's going to be living off of his family's money for a while.
But maybe he ends up being a composer and becomes his best self...
Bo Sinclair
I can see a few options for Bo.
I think he would still be a bit of a wild card in his teenage and young adult years but in the end I think his brothers are still important to him and he would want to stay close.
He might help Vincent run Ambrose a little.
If he does have a genuine passion or talent when it comes to cars, he might become a legit mechanic. I imagine he likes the process of fixing up cars, it gives him something to focus on.
I could also see him owning his own bar, somewhere near Ambrose, he and Vincent sending business each other's way.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent stays at the wax museum.
He continues his mother's legacy and brings a whole new life to the infamous House of Wax. He modernises the museum while still paying tribute to his mother.
And he does a good job, managing to bring a whole new life to Ambrose again. The tourist just keep coming to visit the House of Wax.
Maybe he even sticks to the Town of Wax idea and fills the abandoned town with wax figures but in a less murdery way.
That would serve to bring more tourists in.
I like the idea that he also sells some of his artwork, kind of like a side hustle.
His main focus is the House of Wax but he occasionally sells his other creations.
Lester Sinclair
Sure, Lester might just stick with his roadkill clean up gig but I think he is likely to remain close to his brothers either way.
I kind of like the idea of Bo being a mechanic and Lester working with him, likely his only employee but Bo can be a bit of a control freak.
Lester is a simple guy and finds joy in the smalls things.
Whatever job he has, he's likely happy with it.
He lives for time at home with Jonesy or dinners with his brothers.
And he's always more than happy to help Vincent out around Ambrose.
Bubba Sawyer
He would love to just work on his family's farm. Family is important to Bubba and I think he would love farm work.
He wouldn't mind working out in the sun, planting and tending to crops.
He doesn't mind the heavy lifting and manual labour.
However, he would love working with the animals.
He would work so well with them and they would love him.
Just imagine Bubba cuddling a little baby cow!!!
Billy Lenz
Hmmm Billy's is kinda difficult.
We don't get to know much about him but I headcanon that he's a big fan of movies and tv.
Maybe he had a part time job in a movie theatre as a teenager, just feeding his love for media.
Anyway, he goes through a shit ton of therapy. And it's effective in this case.
Maybe after leaving the institution he received his care in, he'd go back to school.
Hopefully he will find a passion for something there, starting to develop a more clear plan for his future.
Asa Emory (The Collector)
I mean, I think I've made my stance on this pretty clear.
Professor Emory.
He teaches entomology, of course.
The students either love him or hate him. He's very strict but if you perform well in his class, he'll take that into consideration.
In his time off, he's a pretty secluded person, preferring his own company.
He sticks with his usual hobbies, just with bugs instead of people.
His home is covered in preserved specimens, it's a genuine hobby that hasn't been twisted horrifically.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)
Jesse likes power and he likes money.
So, with the less psychopathic, sadistic, murderous desires, he's going to be a CEO of some successful business.
It's difficult to picture Jesse in anything but that black suit of his.
However, in that one flashback we get in the second film, it seems that his father was a mortician.
So if certain fetishes hadn't formed, maybe he would take over his father's business, owning his own mortuary.
Otis Driftwood
I think in a world were Otis wasn't already obsessed with death and torture, meeting the Fireflies would have been great for him.
They're an eccentric bunch but they'd love him unconditionally.
Otis doesn't want to do anything big with his life, especially not with his career. He still wants to focus mostly on having fun, so he gets small job to make some money.
Probably working with Spaulding at the gas station or in some dive bar.
That being said, I don't see a world where Otis is a model citizen.
He might not be a murder in this universe but he has a history of violence, stupid bar fights and the like. He's also a bit of a petty thief.
If some drunk leaves his wallet on the bar...he can't not take it.
Baby Firefly
The last thing Baby wants to do it work. She just wants to focus as much time as she can on having fun.
Plus, she can't stay focused on one thing long enough to hold down a job with a real boss.
She knows how to get things for free, how to get other people to pay for things, how to get her family to give her what she needs.
It's in her name! She's the baby of the family, they'd do anything for her.
Her and Otis have mastered the art of petty theft.
The two of them can be quite the con artists when they put their mind to it.
However, I can see her doing the hair, makeup, and nails of local women in the area for some pocket money.
Taking commissions can help your business diversify its revenue streams.
18+, sexual content, graphic violence and torture, murder, vivisection livestreams, very petty interactions
Chapter 5: "Special Requests"
Written by: Me, sinfulwrites, and @general-nerdy
The last twenty-four hours had been an absolute whirlwind, and Maeve was still trying to stop her head from spinning. One moment she’d been in her below poverty level apartment, barely subsisting off of dollar store fare and fighting off the creeping hoard of roaches.
Now she was sitting stiffly inside a private plane, one with white leather so pristine she feared even sitting on it would leave a smear indicative of her own lower tax bracket. The cabin was silent and she was alone, minus the pilot she hadn’t even seen behind the locked cockpit door. Maeve pressed a button to clear the blackened windows to watch the clouds outside, wondering whether she was really going where they’d told her she was going. They. It was strange to think about.
That morning she’d been awoken by a raucous knocking at her door. In her half-awake state of mind Maeve had figured it was the police, and she’d soon be going to jail. Dammit, it was a good run at least. But with another round of pounding on the thin wood she remembered the night previous; of the early morning email, the restaurant, and Mr. Cromeans hand slipping up her-
To keep her neighbors from complaining about the noise she finally answered, and workmen in nondescript clothes barged in to begin hauling her meager belongings out of the cramped living space and down the hall.
Was this a prank? Was she being robbed? Her phone vibrated from the end table in her bedroom, and one of the men turned to gesture her in its direction.
“Phone for ya. Should pick it up.”
Without thinking Maeve nodded, dashing to pick up before the call timed out. She glanced at the number.
[9046011977]
It was the same area code as Mr. Cromeans. Maeve's chest warmed with nervous butterflies at the thought. She mustered as much early morning energy as she could to greet him.
“Hello?”
An unexpected voice responded back, a woman, that wasn’t one of Mr.Cromeans voice clips.
“Good morning Ms. Macrae,” she said to Maeve, her voice chipper but oddly restrained. Anyone else would have thought it pleasant, but Maeve could hear the lack of actual happiness in it. It was a customer service voice, the one used when a person didn’t feel like dealing with another any longer.
“...Who is this,” Maeve replied. “What’s going on here?”
“Your relocation. I did specify that in the email you received last night.”
Maeve’s face scrunched at her tone. It reminded her far too much of snotty professors back in college.
“...Right. Who am I speaking to?”
“You can call me Spann. Mr. Cromeans has tasked me with getting you to Jacksonville in one piece.”
Jacksonville…?
He was the strapping young man with a hefty bank account from Maeve's dreams… but he was from Florida.
It had been too good to be true. Damn it.
Maeve tried to follow as she watched the rooms outside of her bedroom emptying “...And that's happening-”
“Right now. We have a jet waiting for you in Fort Wayne, and a driver waiting outside your apartment to take you there. Get yourself dressed and pack yourself a bag. And I’d suggest you do it quickly; Mr. Cromeans isn’t a patient man.”
Now on that same jet, Maeve could appreciate that she didn’t enjoy the sound of Spann’s voice. It was strangely condescending in a way that was hard to articulate. But she’d keep that tidbit to herself; she knew she couldn’t go about insulting her fellow employees of whatever organization Mr. Cromeans had so graciously brought her into.
The fact that she was leaving everything behind was as exciting as it was terrifying. Her living quarters in Florida, even if it was a shitty hotel, still had to be better than her old hovel. And with Mr. Cromeans promises of a salary, perhaps she could afford something halfway to decent. She’d also been told to leave her old clunker behind, not that she’d miss it regardless. If Mr. Cromeans was willing to shell out this many resources to move her, surely he could loan her some transportation while she worked?
She fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt, one she’d haphazardly slapped on with a pair of jeans in the confusion. With nothing else to focus on, Maeve could only think with anticipation of when she’d get to see Mr. Cromeans again. Would he welcome her to her destination? Or was he busy working? Maeve didn’t concern herself with whether she was thinking about him too much or not, because he’d broken that boundary himself by almost fingering her in his car the night before.
Maeve really, really wanted to see him again.
And she got her wish. The darkened screen opposite her flickered to life, a small video feed playing along with a larger space on the side, a chat box and a relay of what Maeve recognized as Mr. Cromeans phone. The live feed caught her attention; a figure with their face just out of frame took up the entire view. Their black suit jacket was open, revealing their bare, broad chest. Between those two luxurious pectorals was a tattoo, a skull with two familiar combat knives crossed underneath it. Maeve didn’t need to look at the contact information to guess who it was.
“M-Mr. Cromeans,” she stuttered.
Two hands, clad in black surgical gloves, typed at his keyboard.
[Good morning Ms. Macrae.]
[I see Spann is behaving.]
It was a struggle to not ogle his tits while he spoke to her.
“...Ah, y-yes. Ms. Spann has been very helpful.”
[Haha. It’s just Spann.]
[Did you enjoy dinner?]
Ooh, what a question. Maeve couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well… the parts of it I got to eat were nice. Thank you, by the way.”
His fingers twitched over his keyboard like he wanted to add something, but Mr. Cromeans switched gears. Maeve was glad he didn’t delve into the ride home.
[We’ll have to try again.]
She wasn’t sure if he meant the eating part or the other part, and Maeve was too embarrassed to bring herself to ask. He was her boss now, after all.
“A-And thank you, for all of this,” she gestured around to the cabin of the jet. “I’ll do my very best for the organization, I promise.”
His dark background made it difficult to see, but Maeve swore his shoulders shook.
[There are plenty of ways for you to make it up to me.]
With a little wave, Mr. Cromeans terminated the call.
Heat shot through her. Maeve instantly thought to find herself some privacy to relieve some tension, but that crazy fucker probably had the plane bugged head to toe with cameras. That seemed to be his style. He’d enjoy that, wouldn’t he?
She kept her urges in check the rest of the flight, even though her pent up frustrations from the night before gnawed at her. Maeve could at least behave herself before she made it to wherever she was staying. But then the thought occurred to her that if her lodgings had also been set up by the Organization, would they also be bugged? Would she ever have an inkling of privacy ever again? Well… if it was just Mr. Cromeans watching, maybe she wouldn’t mind so much.
After a few hours the plane landed flawlessly, and glancing out the window cloudless blue skies and an array of palm trees greeted her. She’d never been outside her own tri-state area before. The prospect of experiencing a whole new part of the country was exciting. How different would it be? Maeve grabbed her suitcase, rolling it to the door once a set of stairs had been placed outside. The seal released, and the hatch swung open-
And Maeve was assaulted with a thick wall of heat that practically punched her in the lungs. Why was it so hot?! Why was it so hard to breathe?! It was like walking into soup that scorched her skin, but wouldn’t let her quickly developing perspiration evaporate. She was suddenly sticky, and Maeve hated it. No wonder that sexy asshole was so crazy; the sun had fried his brain through his bald head.
A nondescript black vehicle rolled in to pick her up from the tarmac, and introduced Maeve to a new face. A tiny, well put together brunette woman in business attire sat in the opposite passenger's seat. Her smile was wide but it didn't meet her eyes at all and when she spoke Maeve confirmed it was the same woman from the phone that morning.
“How was your flight?”
Maeve climbed inside after the driver took her baggage, shutting the door behind her. Small talk it was, then.
“Wonderful! I’ve never been in a plane so fancy before.”
The other woman sneered, though maybe it was unintentional. Or maybe she just had a bitch face like that. Either way Maeve didn’t appreciate it.
Spann took a deep breath, resting her hands in her lap. “Yes. He does. Anyway, we’ll be taking you to your new accommodations, provided to you by our Organization. Your… company vehicle, is also available.”
A place to stay, and a new car?
“Do all new hires get this kind of onboarding package?” Maeve asked.
Spanns fingers twitched ever so slightly.
“...Yes…” she replied. “...Though you seem to be an exception.”
When they finally arrived, Maeve could make sense of the contempt in Spann’s voice. The apartment complex was immaculate; perfectly groomed palm trees spaced every few feet along the walkways, swaying in the Florida heat. Lizards darted out of the way underfoot as they passed, the only sound between them now the click of Spann's heels and the droning roll of Maeve’s suitcase. The company woman had gone silent, which Maeve would have been fine with if the quiet wasn’t so tense. Behind the front desk and up an elevator, Maeve was guided to her new front door, and a set of keys was placed in her palm.
Spann had plastered on another fake smile. “Your company vehicle keys are also on that ring, and the navigational data for the office has been pre-programmed into your GPS. Take the time to recuperate from your flight, and tomorrow you’ll be given a tour of our facilities. Have a nice day.”
Before Maeve could even ask anything else Spann had turned on her heels and headed back toward the elevator. Something told her that Spann didn’t particularly like her for whatever reason, but it was fine. Maeve had grown accustomed to dealing with people that didn’t care for her from working in the medical field. It’d been chock full of busybodies who couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s drama. Killing them with kindness was usually the most satisfying way of getting back at them. Maybe she’d buy Spann a gift basket and watch her eyelids twitch.
Maeve looked down to the keyring in her hands, almost laughing at the chrome skull keychain dangling from it. Was that intentional? It probably was-
Another key stole her attention.
Was… was that a horse on the key fob?
She ran to the free elevator, jamming on the button for the basement garage. He hadn’t. He couldn’t have. No he didn’t. The wait was agonizing, Maeve rocking on the balls of her feet as she watched the number tick down. Come on, come on.
As soon as the silver doors parted Maeve clicked the lock button and scanned the corridor, searching for the vehicle that responded. When she found it, her mouth fell agape.
He hadn’t. No.
A deep red Mustang responded to the call, its paint shimmering even in the low light. Maeve was in awe as she approached, setting her hand carefully on the handle in case it was some kind of sick, rich person joke. Opening the door didn’t set off an alarm or a trap, and the new car smell hit her like a brick wall. She slid herself into the driver’s seat, finding the push button ignition to give it a press. The car purred to life, its deep rumble smoother than anything Maeve had heard in her entire life. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her heart aflutter. This was her company car?
Spann’s distaste when she’d spoken of it made Maeve smirk. Had she not gotten something as nice? Maybe she’d revv it in front of the office… maybe.
Excited to see her new apartment to match Maeve made her way back to her floor and her door, stepping inside with her suitcase in tow. Sure enough the interior was gorgeous, though definitely decorated to Mr. Cromeans' tastes. Modern fixtures and amenities were plentiful, all in black and chrome. Every nook and cranny had high end appliances and everything Maeve could have asked for. What were the movers even bringing in? Everything she’d ever wanted was already there.
A dishwasher, garbage disposal, gas range, walk in shower, bidet, spa tub, an in-unit washer and dryer, and a working thermostat made Maeve almost teary-eyed. Was this what the good life was like? No leaks? No mold? No cracks? No roaches or mice? It was all too good to be true, but there it was in front of her. Almost every problem that plagued her had been solved for Maeve in one day.
She walked into the bedroom, a king size bed clad in black satin sheets primed and ready. Maeve ran her fingers across the delicate fabric, trying to figure out what the catch was. Working wouldn’t be a problem, since killing people wasn’t a problem. She’d done it before all this and she’d keep doing it. Her thoughts turned to Mr. Cromeans and his… intent. He wanted her to join the company, sure. But his fingers between her legs told Maeve he was interested in much more than that.
If staying in such posh accommodations with a brand new car meant keeping him satisfied, Maeve was more than happy to make that deal. Would it really be a negative? She was of the mindset that being a sugar baby was definitely something she could do. He wasn’t old or unattractive, so sucking or riding his dick could be a win for the both of them.
Maeve flopped back onto her new bed, sinking into the plushness beneath her. Yes, this kind of life she could definitely get used to.
All the excitement caused Maeve to knock out soon after her head hit the pillow that night. She initially woke up in a panic the next morning; she wasn't late for her first day, was she?
As she scanned around the room for a clock, she tried to think back to her conversation with Spann. Had she given her a time? She couldn't recall one if she did. That meant she could come in at any time, right?
Maeve didn't want to leave her new employer waiting, so she pushed herself out of bed and threw her suitcase onto it to fish out an outfit to wear. Thankfully she packed a decent pair of clothes, just in case.
She took the opportunity to use that new shower she’d ogled yesterday. Maeve placed her clean clothes on her pristine marble countertop while she ditched her dirty ones in a hamper placed in a cubby along the wall. Maeve began to notice the tile underneath her feet didn't bite into her with a bitter chill; were they heated floors?
Not only was her new shower an upgrade to her old one, it even had a rain shower head. Along with a wand attachment to get in her crevices. She didn't have to wait an eternity for the water to heat up, it was warm the moment she turned the nob towards the red H on the chrome valve.
Could this get any better?
Maeve never wanted to leave the paradise raining down on her, but she knew she had responsibilities, so once her hair was free of soap and her body was thoroughly rinsed off she turned off the water. Her body was wrapped in a thick black towel hanging beside the shower on a towel rack. Another was fetched from a closet inside the bathroom and was promptly plopped on her head so she could dry her hair the rest of the way before she brushed it.
All the while, she was completely unaware of a blinking red light in the air vent.
Grabbing a blob of product from a gray bottle sporting the logo "Designline" Maeve rushed through her hair and skin routine before throwing her clothes on. It wasn't the best thing she could put together, a simple blouse and black pants, but it was all she had. It would have to do.
Her black stilettos were fished out of her suitcase before she grabbed the keys to her new car and left her apartment. On her way out she noticed all of her things the moving company had taken yesterday and was left with the disturbing realization that they were in her apartment while she was asleep. Well… That happened.
Brushing it off as best she could, Maeve left the apartment complex, which she was still struggling to accept was now hers, and went back to her fancy new car. She pressed the button on her key fob to make it honk again, for no other reason than wanting to do it. She never could before.
After Maeve got over the jitters of driving such an expensive car she pulled it out of the parking garage once she selected the office’s location from the GPS. On her way to work, Maeve took in the new place she now called home. Bright blue skies, sky high palm trees and skyscrapers; the only thing about the city that reminded her of her old home were the potholes. All of this happened so fast, she hadn’t had the time to process what really happened. She definitely wasn’t in Montpelier anymore…
Maeve's drive to her new office took her down some shady streets, as she expected it would given the field she worked in. The GPS told her to take one last right, and it pulled her into a parking lot of an unmarked building; though it definitely wasn't abandoned judging by the cars in the lot. An unmarked building was definitely per the course, so Maeve parked her car right next to a black sedan near the front door.
The smooth purr from her car finally ceased once Maeve pressed the ignition button again. She did a quick check over her appearance in the mirror of the sun shade before she stepped out of her car. A car door shutting after hers gained her attention, seeing the woman from yesterday exiting the vehicle right beside her.
"Oh, good morning, Spann." Maeve greeted the woman, the smile on her face definitely more malicious than her tone was.
The shorter woman met her with yet another forced smile after she finished taking a sip from her coffee cup.
"Good morning. You're here early, we weren't expecting you so soon. Mr. Cromeans isn't here yet."
Something told Maeve that Spann wasn't so thrilled to see her so early in the morning. Still, she just shrugged in response.
"Well, you never gave me a time to come in, and I didn't want to keep him waiting."
"No… I guess I didn't." Spann met her with another pained smile before she started walking towards the front doors.
"Well, follow me, Ms. Macrae. I will give you your tour of our building, and show you your new office."
On a keypad by the front door, Spann typed in a simple four digit code which granted them access into the building.
"All of the entrances to the building are locked, and you will need the pass code to get in. It's 0811. Can you remember that?"
Maeve responded with a nod, choosing to ignore her snarky tone, this time, for the sake of learning.
With that, Spann led her inside for the real tour. Maeve was led around a generic looking office building, the walls painted black while the floors were a shiny white; clean enough she could see her reflection in them. Any room worth noting had a plaque by the door; a black background with a border of chrome, the name of the room bearing the same chrome coloring with their letters. Even the bathrooms had fancy plaques.
Maeve noticed very quickly that the office was devoid of natural light; windows were sparse, and any windows that were there seemed to be painted over or covered in thick black out curtains. Security purposes, she supposed.
The tour ended with a very familiar name by a large set of black doors.
Chromeskull.
"This is Mr. Cromeans office. You aren't allowed in here without explicit permission. He prefers his privacy."
He wanted his privacy huh… Maeve briefly wondered if that was to indulge in his online activities… like watching her.
"And this…" Spann started, walking off a few steps to a door close by Mr. Cromeans office. "...is your office."
Spann swung the door open for her, and gestured for Maeve to go inside to examine. And what a sight it was…
It shared the black walls and white flooring, but it sported other decorations that Maeve failed to see elsewhere. The first thing that caught her eye was the desk in the middle of the room, a black floating cuboid desk with right angled chrome legs, with a similar desk chair to match. The desk was sat atop a circular white plush carpet. There was a window in her office, spared of paint but hidden behind curtains. On the wall opposite of the window was a large bookcase built into the building, cubbies scattered around generously along with plenty of drawers for storage. Looking closer, Maeve spotted some medical books scattered around the shelf, even a gynecology book oddly enough. Must have been one of Mr. Cromeans's jokes.
….And was that a fish tank?
"Feel free to take all the time you need to settle in. When Mr. Cromeans arrives, I will inform him that you're here. If you need anything, feel free to talk to your fellow coworkers. I will be busy in my office." With that, Spann parted from her, letting her office door close on its own.
Now enamored by the fish tank in the center of the book case, Maeve approached the tank to get a closer look. Right away she noticed the plants were real, and the tank was decorated with a large skull with many openings for the fish to swim in and out of. A pair of ranchu goldfish were swimming through the greenery, one being all black and the other bearing a red head with the rest of its body being black. One of the goldfish spotted her and swam to the glass to inspect her, and Maeve’s heart just melted.
Were these hers? Spann said this was her office… Maeve already found herself thinking of names for them the longer she watched them swim around the tank.
The door to her office swinging open ripped Maeve out of her thoughts, and she was once again faced with that familiar skull mask that used to run her blood cold; it now turned other places warm.
"O-Oh, Mr. Cromeans, I thought… I wasn't expecting you so soon," Maeve glanced at the clock on the wall; had that much time really passed?
Maeve turned to face him, but the large man just strolled passed her to her desk, taking a seat right on it and folding one leg over the other while his large hand slid back on the desk to prop himself up. He pushed off her lamp with a clatter in the process, but he didn't bother to acknowledge it. Maeve figured it was best to ignore it too. That chrome mask tilted towards her, he seemed to be looking her over before he pulled out that all familiar phone.
[It's been too long, Ms. Macrae.]
It's been a day…
[Do you like it?]
Maeve was stumped at his question. Did she like it? Like what? The new apartment? The new car? The new office? The new pets? The new life? All of it was overwhelming, she still hadn't adjusted to it all.
"Sir, it's… I'm at a loss for words."
He seemed satisfied by that answer, if his chuckle meant anything.
[I tend to have that effect.]
[Before you get comfortable, we need to talk business.]
Yes, this was what Maeve had been wracking her brain about last night. All these luxurious things, they certainly had a price. And she was willing to do whatever he asked, he deserved it at this rate.
"O-Of course! Where do you…"
Before she could finish her sentence Mr. Cromeans pushed himself off her desk, and instead took a seat at her chair, leaving her nowhere to sit except across from him on top of her own desk; though she wouldn't dream of complaining about it. She'd sit on the floor if he told her to. In front of him, even…
The sounds of his keyboard being pressed rung out in the quiet office, much longer than before.
[All these things I've given you, don't misunderstand, it's not just out of the kindness of my heart. You are now my employee. Do you understand?]
Maeve carefully read the message over, not letting her perverted thoughts intrude on his important text.
"Y-Yes sir, of course, I couldn't even fathom accepting this all for free. Anything you want sir, I'll do it. Anything."
While Mr. Cromeans didn't respond to that with his words, Maeve did get a finger wagging from him. It just screamed "naughty naughty…"
[Your enthusiasm is appreciated. I won't beat around the bush then, I enjoy your work. So, from this day on, I will pay you for it. But you have to follow my terms whenever I request them. Do you understand?]
Pay her for her work… Follow his terms… Maeve tilted her head after reading his message.
"I… believe so, sir. Are you saying I will be taking your requests now?" It definitely sounded like she had no room to negotiate, not that she ever did, nor would she want to.
Mr. Cromeans responded with a nod.
[You will continue your streams as usual. I have provided a new work space here for you, you just have to continue working undetected. And when I drop off some gifts now and then, you won't question it.]
Workspace…? She had a new workspace already too? Next he was gonna tell her he hired someone to wipe her ass for her, too.
"Y-Yes sir, I understand. I… Wow, I don't know what else to say… Thank you so much."
Mr. Cromeans typed out a response for her, but she didn't get to see it right away. The meeting must have been over already, as he lifted himself from her chair and began to walk around the desk. He stopped right beside her, and his gloved hand reached out to rest against her cheek and briefly trace her jaw before he showed her his message.
[You start today. You will be escorted to your workplace. Make me proud.]
With a tap on the cheek, Maeve was finally left alone in her office. Once her door clicked shut, she nearly melted right off of her desk.
Yes sir!
Preston stumbled in not long after Mr. Cromeans left, shoving his hands half-casually into his pockets. He craned his neck around the room and his eyes widened at the sight, his eyebrows shooting up.
“You, uh, got the big office, huh.” His tone was flat as he approached the fish tank, watching the critters as they stared back blankly, mouths gasping and closing.
Maeve shrugged her shoulders as she laughed nervously. “...I guess so! Did you need something Preston, or is this just a visit?”
His jaw visibly clenched; he wasn’t happy. But he turned to Maeve and jingled his keys.
“Goin’ on a little road trip. Boss wants me to, uh, show ya your new workspace.”
Her eyes lit up. If the fancy apartment, car, and office were anything to go by, Maeve was eager to see what Mr. Cromeans had in store for her operating room.
“Oh, of course! Lead the way; I’ll follow you.”
Back out in the parking lot Preston gave a side eye to Maeve’s car, climbing into his plain black sedan in the process. He tore out onto the road and Maeve easily followed, the thrum of her engine drowning out the one of the man in front of her. Was he as miffed as Spann? Probably. Would they do anything to act on it? Probably not. Getting on Mr. Cromeans’ bad side didn't seem like a wise idea. And since there was some blatant favoritism happening, he’d surely notice if Preston or Spann got snippy.
The drive led them out of Jacksonville, about an hour west. The small town Preston led her through almost reminded Maeve of Montpelier, but there were more trailers and infinitely more spanish moss covered trees. They followed the old roads until they narrowed, the sun-bleached and cracked pavement not having seen traffic for a long while. In that lonely stretch of woods, another workshop came into view amongst the underbrush.
A small crew was scampering around the building, a shiny new prefab, as they moved equipment about. Maeve recognized silver medical trays in one young man’s hands, and her heart skipped a beat. Was all this hers too?
Preston parked on the dirt drive and Maeve followed suit, looking around in awe. It was larger than her old shed, and in much better condition. The walls were solid sheet metal, with no holes. No critters would be creeping in to nibble on the corpses. There were also no windows, and the front door appeared sturdy or even reinforced. An air conditioning unit thrummed on the side of the building, which was fantastic. Her old setup had no temperature control, so Maeve would freeze in the winters and boil in the summers.
As she approached the door, Preston beat her to it. He was snapping his fingers at the team still finishing up inside.
“All right people lets, uh, pack it up. You were supposed to be outta here twenty minutes ago. Yes? Please? Thank you.”
They all scuttled out, carrying trash bags and other leftovers with them.
“Fuckin’ interns,” Preston scoffed under his breath, then gestured inside. “Here it is, in all it’s, uh, glory.”
Maeve stepped inside, and it took her breath away.
A real operating room. Hell, it was nicer than the actual facility she worked in her former hospital. All the equipment was brand new and top of the line. Tables topped with trays of shining implements surrounded the operating table in the center, customized with thick restraints. Three adjustable lamps were attached by arms to the ceiling and illuminated the setup; cameras had already been placed around the space to record her stage from multiple angles. The floors were spotless and the walls were lined with soundproof foam and other storage. A large metal basin sink and sanitization station lined one wall, and a desk to the side housed a brand new desktop computer with two monitors for Maeve’s ease of use.
Her mouth was agape, and she slowly lowered herself onto her new wheeled stool.
“...It’s gorgeous.”
Preston scratched the back of his head, glancing around.
“Yeah, uh… Tried to keep the same layout as the old one. Also, um, disposed of that corpse you left behind and scrubbed the site. You’re welcome. Spruced the place up best I could on short notice, but…”
His hands gestured around.
“What… uh… do you do with all this shit? You harvest organs or somethin’, or do you and the boss share creepy hobbies?”
Maeve blinked. He wasn’t sure?
A grin spread over her face. It would be nice to tell someone about it.
“We… kind of share interests. I perform live streamed vivisections.”
Preston wasn’t a very patient man. “Well that internet line he had us install makes a hell of a lot more sense. And veevee what? In english?”
She crossed a leg over the other, resting her hands in her lap. “Surgery on people who are still awake.”
He paused, the air suddenly growing tense. Did that make him uncomfortable? Good.
“You could stay and observe,” Maeve teased. “Or you could volunteer.”
Preston threw up his hands. “Yeah, no thanks. I don’t need to be involved in, uh, any freaky shit. But, um, before I go…”
He walked over to a large form in the corner of the room, a tarp covering it. He pulled it off in one swift motion to reveal…
A coffin.
Preston patted the lid. “Gift from the boss. Now I’m gonna get outta here before you start cuttin’ shit open.”
“Thank you Preston!” Maeve called after him as he left.
As the door shut behind him, Maeve noticed several dead bolts on the inside of the door. Their centers were hollowed out in a unique fashion that she hadn’t seen before. Glancing at her shiny new key ring several strange tube-shaped keys appeared to match, and Maeve stood to try them out. With some trial and error she figured out which key fit which lock, and the only door in and out was secure. No more peeking in for Mr. Cromeans, eh? Unless he’d engineered his own way of getting in.
Now thinking of Mr. Cromeans; he had wanted her to get to work. It would only be fair to thank him for his generosity, wouldn’t it? Maeve decided to examine the coffin first, running her hand over the smooth wood and metal fixtures along the side. A simple chain latch on the side was the only thing securing the lid to the bottom, and Maeve tentatively undid it. These were quite the fixture in Mr. Cromeans videos, so she could already imagine what was inside. With one hand she lifted the upper part of the lid, and was met with Mr. Cromeans’ “gift”.
A woman laid inside, not dead but resting as her chest rose and fell with soft breaths. Her eyes were closed, her short hair in disarray. If she hadn’t woken through all the commotion she must have been unconscious by other means.
She had to follow his requests huh…?
Maeve’s goggles and streaming skirt were folded next to the woman’s head, and she carefully reached to remove them. He really did think of everything, didn't he?
Well, there was no time like the present. Maeve was eager to christen her new equipment with an exciting new angle to a stream. First she had to lift the woman from inside the coffin to the operating table. Surprisingly she was still clothed, and Maeve set her down and strapped her in. The new restraints were incredibly thick and felt durable in her hands. Lovely.
With that Maeve got dressed off to the side, swapping her pants for her skirt, undoing a few buttons on her shirt and sliding on her goggles. She tied her hair in a pile atop her head, then dug around in the drawers around the room for a pair of black surgical gloves and a mask. She pulled both on with a snap, eager excitement tingling through her. Now this was work!
Headed to the computer, it occurred to Maeve that neither Spann nor Preston had given her any login info. On a whim she tried her old username and password, and sure enough they worked. …Had they cracked it, or just cloned her hard drive? The updated OS told her they’d cracked it. How?
Ignoring the uncomfortable aspect that they knew every facet of her life, Maeve booted up Tor and went to her webpage. Cameras on and her mood in high spirits, she started broadcasting and grabbed her remote. It was a few minutes before the chat populated, but when it did she happily greeted them.
“Hello everyone! Welcome back!”
|<Big~Wiggly> You’re alive!
|
|<XxXDeathNinjaXxX> YOOOOOOOOOO
|
|<VEINSSS> LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO
|
|<Gluteus_smaximous> SHE’S NOT DEAD GANG 💕
|
|<Mommy_Milkers> MISS MORBID MOMMY PLEASE NEVER LEAVE AGAIN IVE BEEN CRYING EVERY DAY
|
|<Anal_repentive> How did that guy not kill you holy shit that was scary
Miss Morbid laughed, her bright red LED eyes lighting up.
“That’s right, you all must have a lot of questions! Last time our surgery was interrupted, but don’t worry! Our practice is back and better than ever, thanks to the generosity of-”
|💀Chromeskull has entered the chat
“...On behalf of him! Everyone, thank Chromeskull for making all of this possible! To thank him for all of his kindness and hard work, we have an unconventional procedure in store! Unconventional for our practice, anyway.”
A cascade of thanks flooded in Chromeskull’s direction. He didn’t reply, but Maeve supposed he should have liked the attention and praise.
“As you can see,” Miss Morbid continued, her arms wide as she zoomed the camera out. “We’ve gotten quite the major upgrade! This might affect our burglary streams going forward, but I still plan on our consultation days and of course our main events.”
She heard a stirring behind her, so Miss Morbid switched gears.
“Now that we’re all caught up with current events, I think you’ll all be very excited to meet our patient today.”
The camera angle changed, showing a birds eye view of the woman strapped to the table. Her head fell from side to side, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled against her drowsiness to gain her bearings.
Chat exploded.
|<Oddnmsor76> You’re doing ladies now?!
|
|<NonSexualUrges> Hype!
|
|<Mommy_Milkers> TITS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
|
|<4365733567> Oh damn! Two’s a party! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
|
|<Mommy_Milkers> IM GONNA FUCKIND BUSTKJT
“Calm down chat,” Miss Morbid chastised them. “She’s our patient, and she’ll be treated as such. Remember that.”
Her LEDs gave her stern tone away; she winked up at the camera.
Pulling a cart of tools to her side, Miss Morbid chose a large pair of mayo scissors to start with.
“Pre-op didn’t do a very good job, you’re still dressed! We can fix that, though.”
As she took the blades to the fabric, Chromeskull shot back.
|💀<Chromeskull> Would rather watch you do it.
“Oh?” Miss Morbid hummed as she tossed pieces of sheared fabric to the side. “Watch me undress her, or watch me undress?”
|💀<Chromeskull> Yes.
A fit of giggles escaped her at the thought. Maybe someday…
When the woman on the table was down to her undergarments she squirmed more, awakening to the reality of her situation.
“...Aaah…!”
“Sssh…” Miss Morbid hushed her, pressing her gloved palm over her patient’s mouth. Her cries turned to muffled whimpers as Miss Morbid’s other hand trailed her fingers along the woman’s bare stomach.
“Save your breath. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
Slowly withdrawing her palm Maeve thought it would inspire the chat to unclip the front of the woman’s lacy bra herself, exposing her chest. Miss Morbid cut the garment out from underneath her to fully remove it, then switched angles again. Her gloved hands curled around the edges of the woman’s panties, chat rushing by a mile a minute in response on the other monitor. Surely these occasional streams would be lucrative.
“Please,” the woman begged. “D-Don’t do this… Let me go. I swear I won’t tell anybody-”
“Ah ah ah~” Miss Morbid wagged her finger up at her. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got plans for you.”
Maeve shimmied the woman’s panties down and through the restraints to twirl them around her finger.
“Feel like I’m in college again,” she teased. “Though everyone there was a bit too… vanilla for my tastes.”
Chat was foaming at the mouth, donations and thirsty messages pouring in.
|<A suspicious egg> fruity? fruity fruity
|
|<57567_XmcZerp> 👀 Story time? Or a demonstration?
|
|<Uoutio> We EATIN TONIGHT?????
“Now now chat, I perform surgery! This isn’t that kind of stream, you know that.”
Bare before her, Miss Morbid picked up a marker to begin outlining her plans on the woman’s skin.
“So, since we’re working with different anatomy today, I thought we could highlight that! We’ll be doing a tubal ligation to start, and where we go from there… well we’ll have to wait and see!”
Two lines on the lower left and right of the woman’s stomach marked Miss Morbid’s entry points. The patient tried to thrash out of her bindings, but to no avail. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes wild as they darted around the room.
“Fuck you!” She cursed. “Fuck you, you fuck! Let me go!”
Miss Morbid tutted as she wagged her finger again.
“Do you really think cursing at me is going to make your situation anything but worse? I’d stop while you were ahead.”
“Y-You crazy bitch!” The patient sputtered. “I’ll kill you!”
“You’ll kill me?” Miss Morbid scoffed. “I’m not the one strapped naked to a table right now, though maybe I’d like to be.”
|💀<Chromeskull> ? :^) ?
Setting the marker aside, Miss Morbid grabbed a scalpel as the camera switched overhead.
“You’re about to be in a world of hurt, honey. Let’s hear you…”
As the blade pierced flesh the patient screamed, her voice shrill and full of agony. Maeve would need some acetaminophen for the resulting headache, but the chat whizzing by was an indication that they liked it, a lot. Men were more of her cup of tea, but perhaps women every now and again would help with viewership too.
Mr. Cromeans messages were highlighted on her screen, so she did spot his silly reply to her off comment. This was certainly a less nerve-wracking way of engaging with him; her persona as Miss Morbid had infinitely more confidence and a bigger mouth. She could say what she was thinking, well, what Miss Morbid was thinking, and what Maeve Macrae could never stammer out. Having him behind the screen made it less real; Miss Morbid wouldn’t have to deal with any consequences.
Ms. Macrae would, though. She didn’t think that far ahead.
Being mindful of where her blade cut, Maeve decided to chat as she made her way to her patient’s fallopian tubes.
“I did this to myself, you know. Was a bitch without much local anesthesia but I was sick and tired of having to remember my birth control, and kids were not in my life plans…”
“Plus,” Miss Morbid continued, using her fingers to pry flesh apart as her patient screamed. “...Sex is a lot better when you’re not worried about shitting out a baby after one good nut.”
|<duodenumSucker> Oh she likes the GOOD NUT
|
|<Mommy_Milkers> THE GOOD NUT
|
|<lesbianushunny> Miss Morbid’s bedroom lookin NASTY
Another highlighted message popped up.
|💀<Chromeskull> I’m listening.
Miss Morbid had a small tube structure hooked around her finger from inside the woman’s body, her free bloodied hand reaching for a shiny new cauterizing pen.
She giggled. “You’re going to embarrass me, Chromeskull.” The ring of a flatline graced her ears.
|💀Chromeskull has donated $500.00
|💀<Chromeskull> Tell me about it.
If it wasn’t for her mask and goggles the stream would have seen Maeve blush. She skillfully snipped out a large section of her patient's fallopian tube, cauterizing the ends and setting them back inside her despite her howling and thrashing.. Then she rolled her stool to the other side, getting her scalpel ready for a repeat.
Miss Morbid’s voice fell lower. “Fine, I admit it. I like it when they cum inside.”
That was probably single-handedly the most donations she’d gotten at a single time. Chromeskull didn’t reply, but there was an inkling in the back of her mind that she’d regret making that statement later, somehow.
“Damn it, chat. I operate on one woman’s reproductive system and you get me all hot and bothered like this.”
Miss Morbid cut into the other side of the woman’s abdomen, being much less cautious than the first time around. She easily found the second tube to wrap around her digits, but instead of grabbing her scissors she impatiently went at it with her scalpel, nicking the soft tissue of the woman’s uterus below. She cursed to herself, her shoulders falling with a dramatic sigh.
“My record is coming back to haunt me, chat. I’m going to be sued for malpractice at this rate. Might as well get rid of the evidence while I’m in here~”
The woman below her was a mess, her voice hoarse and body soaked with sweat, blood and tears. Miss Morbid stood up, leaving a bloody trail as she twined her hands into the woman’s hair. She massaged at her scalp, relishing in the feeling of her skull in her grasp.
“You weren’t planning on using that uterus, right?” Miss Morbid cooed, leaning over her. “I’d tell you you could do other things with your life, but it’d be a lie. You won’t have a life soon enough. Plus, I already sterilized you, so it’s a moot point anyway. I’m just being so mean.”
“Please…” the woman pleaded.
“Oh now you want to be so sweet,” Miss Morbid dropped her head back onto the table, taking her seat on her stool. “Apology not accepted; you called me a bitch. Only certain people are allowed to call me that, and you’re not one of them.”
With her large scalpel, mayo scissors and retractors, Miss Morbid opened up her patient’s cavity to expose the organ in question.
“A full hysterectomy then! I’m doing you a favor if ovarian or cervical cancer runs in your family.”
Even on camera the sloppy accidental cut was clearly visible, a mean slice into the flesh with blood pouring from the wound. Even as Miss Morbid worked at cutting away the organ she huffed.
“Might have hit something more important than I thought. Still! This baby is coming out!”
By that point the patient had given up, moaning and writhing against the table as she grew weaker and weaker. Miss Morbid proudly displayed the ovaries, fallopian tubes, and uterus in her hands up to the camera once the removal was complete; a hunter with her prize.
“Was this what you were thinking of, Chromeskull?”
It didn’t take him long to respond.
|💀<Chromeskull> You’re an artist.
“Flatterer,” Miss Morbid hummed. “You’re too much.”
She set the organs down on a neat silver tray, turning back to the camera to address chat.
“Alas, I don’t think our patient is going to make it. She’s suffering, and I can’t in good conscience let any of my patients suffer.”
Miss Morbid strode up alongside her patient, grazing her scissors along the woman’s skin. Stopping by her head Miss Morbid pried the woman's mouth open, grabbing her tongue with a pair of large forceps.
“I think this is fitting, since you had such sass for me earlier. No manners. You were a very rude patient. Goodbye.”
A loud, harsh snip, and the soft tissue fell to the side as the woman began to sputter and gurgle. Unable to sit up, her mouth quickly filled with dark crimson and in her panic she began to thrash. Miss Morbid held her to the table, one hand on her throat and the other plugging her nose shut as she struggled for several agonizing minutes. Finally, the woman settled, going limp and pale under her murderers hands.
Miss Morbid turned with a bounce, waving to the camera completely unphased.
“I hope you all enjoyed our surgery today; something different to make up for our last time together! Even though it's another to add to the pile of failures, I’m excited to keep trying with you all in our new practice! I’ll post a time on the website for our next consultation stream, should be sometime this week, and we’ll be back on Saturday for another round! Until then!”
The cameras were switched off, and with that so was Miss Morbid. Maeve now had to clean up her mess, as she always had, but the shiny new bonesaws hanging on the wall told her that the process would suddenly be much easier. Gathering her tools to wash to begin the arduous task, her phone chimed from her computer desk. It could only be one of a select few people reaching out to her, and thankfully it was the one she wanted to hear from.
[9043182009]
Come to my office when you’re finished.
Her pulse quickened at the thought.
Maeve's mind raced with ideas the entire drive back to her new place of employment. Her shiny new car parked in the same space as it was earlier in the day, soothing to a stop with the press of the ignition button. Butterflies filled her stomach as she placed her goggles on her front seat and exited her vehicle. Maeve punched in the code onto the keypad at the front door and gained entry to the office.
Not long after she entered the building she was approached by one of the interns scampering down the hall.
"Miss Macrae. The boss is expecting you."
It had been an hour, but Maeve hadn't forgotten. He didn't need to remind her.
"Yes, I was on my way there." She replied before walking off, ignoring the man's stare at her bloody clothes. It shouldn't have been such a shock, should it?
Maeve's heels finally stopped at the doors to Mr. Cromeans office, and her stomach was doing flips. Her hand trembled as it rose to knock on the doors, though Maeve quickly remembered that he wouldn't be granting her access; he didn't talk. So she entered, hoping she was mannered enough.
Her head peeked in, being greeted by that chrome mask staring right at her. There he was, sat at his desk, lounged back in his office chair. His laptop was open and running off to the side of his desk, though from his posture Maeve doubted he was working.
"Hello sir… You wanted to see me?"
Maeve stepped into his office, though she lingered by the door. Mr. Cromeans's arm lifted off his arm rest, showing he was holding his phone which had a message seemingly pre-typed. It spoke to her through his cryptic text to speech, in a shaky tone from a woman.
[Close the door.]
His gloved finger beckoned her closer after the message was spoken.
Maeve's face quickly grew warm. She obeyed, closing the door behind her with a gentle click before approaching his desk. On her streams it was easier to have a back and forth with him, but now in his presence Maeve remembered he was quite an intimidating man. Even if he did have an influence over her, his hulking form and his status over her reminded Maeve of her place; she was still his employee, and he was her boss.
Maeve stopped at the front of his desk, her hands folding in front of her on top of her leather skirt. Mr. Cromeans eyed her, his head tilting down before his hand typed out another message, this time for her to read.
[You're a mess.]
Maeve's heart began to race. He was right, her blouse was covered in blood from her surgery. She didn't look tidy in the slightest.
"I-I’m sorry sir. I should have changed. I didn't want to keep you waiting…"
Her nerves made his shoulders shake in a silent laugh before he wrote another reply.
[Relax, I'm teasing you. I don't mind the blood. I much prefer you with some splashed on you.]
As flattering as that was, Maeve was sure they both knew she wouldn't be walking around bloody too often. For obvious reasons.
[You did well. You didn't disappoint me.]
Relief washed over Maeve. She was worried her sloppy surgery would make her lose points, but it wasn't the case.
"Thank you, sir…"
Mr. Cromeans kept his gaze on her, but his hand opened one of his desk drawers to his right. He pulled out a pair of neatly folded clothes and slid them towards her. Maeve eyed them curiously as the man typed out a message for her.
[As lovely as you look, you should change.]
Maeve nodded and quickly took the clothes off of his desk, but was met with a question; did she change there? He hadn’t exactly told her to leave…
"O-Of course sir, thank you, you're very generous… I'll, uh… Go out to change?"
Maeve pointed to the door with her thumb, but Jesse shrugged his shoulders before holding his phone up again.
[Why? Just change here.]
… Oh. That's what this was.
Maeve was not opposed to undressing in front of him, though embarrassment pooled in her stomach at the thought at the same time. He certainly wouldn't be turning around to give her privacy. These past few days had proven he didn’t believe in privacy.
Maeve's face turned a deep shade of red as she placed her clean clothes back down so she could unbutton her bloody blouse, though notably lacking any urgency. One by one the buttons slid out from the fabric and revealed the black lacy bra she wore underneath. Some blood had seeped through her shirt and had stained her stomach and over the curve of her left breast, and his previous statement led Maeve to believe Mr. Cromeans likely found it enjoyable. Her blouse fell to her feet, and her skirt soon followed, revealing her black lacy panties to him. It was her more revealing pair, and she knew he could see a faint glimpse of her sex through them.
He may have been enjoying the show, but it was over once she dressed back up in the clothes he had gotten her; another white blouse, but this one had poofy sleeves with tight cuffs at the end. He had also gotten her another skirt, this one still black but more flowy and loose which allowed more movement. He had quite the eye for his own fashion, but Maeve was surprised he took the extra step to accommodate for her own. Perhaps he just had an eye for fashion in general.
"Thank you, sir," Maeve said once she was clothed again.
Mr. Cromeans finally rose from his seat, towering over her with his impressive stature. He took calm, slow steps around his desk to meet her at the front of it, both of them holding eye contact as they did. He stepped closer into her personal space, and she instinctively took a step back but quickly bumped her rear into the cold metal encasing his desk. He took another step, his foot stepping between her feet, allowing him to close the distance even further. Maeve held her breath, her heart racing as the fantasies in her mind on the drive there began to come true.
He didn't touch her, but he kept looking down at her, watching her chest rise and fall in rapid succession the closer he got. Looking him in the eye was increasingly getting difficult, her teeth lightly bit into her bottom lip and her thighs pressed together as the anticipation began to build. His shoulders shook again after a moment, then he showed her his phone screen again.
[You said some interesting things in your stream today that I'd like to discuss.]
"O-Oh…"
Maeve's face burned with embarrassment when she remembered what he could be referring to; either her love for being filled or being tied up, both were embarrassing to talk about with this man. He knew so much about her, and she was sure he'd take advantage of it. She'd let him, too.
"W-What do you wish to discuss?" Maeve asked. Her gaze finally ripped from his, unable to look him in the eye as she said it. It was much easier to do this through the stream.
[You were quite honest on camera. Will you be honest now?]
Maeve nearly whined at that question, but she contained it. She honestly wasn't sure if she could, but she nodded her head regardless. He typed on his phone again after her nod.
[Why do you think I called you in here so soon?]
Maeve gulped nervously as she read the words on his phone screen. Well, she had many answers to that question… None were exactly innocent. Especially after the back and forth they had on stream. Business discussions seemed out of the window for now.
"I… I-I think you wanted to see me for something… Lewd, sir."
Mr. Cromeans stared at her after that, as if waiting for more. So she continued.
"Well, I mean… After you heard about my, preferences… And after that incident in your car, I just…" God, she was a mess.
She couldn't look him in the eye, she just anxiously watched him type out his response.
[I was going to discuss your stream, Miss Macrae.]
If the ground would swallow her up right now, that would be great. Maeve couldn't hold in the groan that left her lips, her hands covered her now beet red face. She couldn't even tell if this man was messing with her anymore or not. This was so humiliating.
"I'm so sorry sir, please, just forget I said that-"
A small gasp left her lips when Maeve felt a clothed knee press against her thighs, making them spread with a small push. Maeve moved her hands from her eyes to see if this was actually happening; it was. He had stepped even closer, and now his knee cap was pressing against her clothed sex. He pushed against her further, rubbing her core. Maeve’s hands fell down to clutch onto his thigh for support, her eyes unable to tear away from the sight.
"O-Oh… sir…" Maeve's voice shook as her excitement rapidly built back up.
His touch was electrifying. His knee rubbed up on her sensitive clit and wiggled a moan out of Maeve's lips. It had been a while since she had been touched with more than just her own hand; his knee cap was providing much needed attention to her lonely, needy body.
Confident he wasn't just teasing her again, Maeve began to rub against his knee cap on her own, grinding against the bone where she needed it to be. Her nails began to dig into his thigh as the heat built in her stomach. His quiet office was quickly being filled with the sounds of her pants and soft moans. In the moment she had forgotten they weren't the only ones in the office, but Mr. Cromeans wasn't going to shush her.
Maeve heard him place his phone down on his desk beside her. His gloved hands were finally touching her, fiddling with a button on her blouse for a moment before unhooking it and revealing more cleavage for him to ogle. She urged him on with a nod, and he did, unhooking another button so he could see her bra yet again. It was the type with a front clip, and he welcomed himself to it, unhooking her bra and letting the cups fall away from her breasts. That large hand crept under her shirt to grope one of her mounds, kneading and squeezing the flesh in his grasp as Maeve moaned in return.
"Mr. Cromeans…" Maeve panted out, leaning into his hand and grinding harder against his knee.
Her legs began to tremble the longer she pleasured herself on her boss's knee as if he was a corner on a mattress; though he was much more enjoyable. Her panties were quickly dampening, and she was getting his pant leg wet from her grinding.
The gloved fingers finally hooked onto her sensitive nipple, rolling it between his index and thumb to harden it before gripping onto it and pulling. Not just a light tug though; it hurt. And Maeve liked it. That spike of pain made her squeak and roll her eyes back, drool running down her lip.
Maeve's previous partners never fully understood her desires. They'd pull on her nipples, but never enough. She never felt that spike of pain; she only seemed to be able to give it to herself. Mr. Cromeans did, though. He didn't treat her like a delicate flower. She could handle a little pain, and he could give it. Maeve was quickly growing obsessed.
Her folds began to twitch as the familiar feeling of her orgasm began to build. Her moans began to grow in volume, and her head began to lean back as she lost herself to the feeling.
And he let her cum. She ground against his knee cap a couple more times as her orgasm rocked through her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes at the sensation, her mascara beginning to color her tears before they fell down her cheeks.
Mr. Cromeans let her ride out her orgasm for as long as she wished, but once her hips slowed to a stop, he picked her up by her hips and sat her on the cold glass atop his desk before her legs gave out on her. Maeve was a shaking, panting mess on top of his desk as she basked in the afterglow. He had hardly touched her, yet she was such a mess. Even with his mask on, Maeve could tell he was proud of his work.
His phone was finally in his hand again, and he had a message for her to read through her blurry vision.
[Was that what you were waiting for?]
Maeve had the opportunity to be greedy, but she didn't take it. She didn't want to push her luck. She nodded her head instead.
"Yes… Yes sir… Thank you, Mr. Cromeans…"
A final black tear ran down her face, but Mr. Cromeans wiped it up for her. Maeve nearly leaned into his hand, but it left her cheek far too soon for her liking; because he had another message for her.
Omg I really appreciate the sh piece you did. Could you please write a similar piece to that for Jesse?
JESSE CROMEANS
TAKING CARE OF HIS S/O
CONTENT:
Pairings: Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x reader hc's
Tw: mentions of self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, blood, wounds. Canon violence
A/N: hiii! Once again thank you for the request and as i said in the other post i hope everything is going alright. Life should not be this hard but it is for a lot of people so know that you're not alone. Your favourite slasher would be super proud of you and how far you have come in life, and everyone in real life is proud of you too so if you ever need help or a reason to keep going there it is♡. It's okay to need help and its okay to feel bad or sad even if you don't have a reason, just take care and be a little bit more nice with yourself♡
Admittedly he managed to be there in time for you cause he was keeping an eye on you using a hidden cam in the room
He probably was at work but at soon as he saw what you were doing he dropped everything and started to head home
Longest drive of his life, he felt like he couldn't be going fast enough
He stormed inside the house but before going inside your room he forced himself to calm cause the last thing he wants now is to intimidate you
He opens the door and slowly approaches you, reaching out one hand towards you to show you he wants you to tell him if he can touch you or not
If you take his hand he's gonna gently pull you in to hug you and hold you close to his chest.
He will seem super calm and super collected but as soon as he take his phone to talk you can see his hands shaky so much he doesn't even gets to type a single word
He decided to give up and instead take you to the bathroom to run a warm bath for you and medicate your cuts
He would be so gentle and careful to not hurt or irritate any of the wounds
His eyes, or well eye, is always bouncing from what he's doing to your face to make sure he's not overstepping your boundaries or making you uncomfortable
Once he has cleaned all the wounds he's gonna wash all your sadness and tiredness away
He puts attention to every part of your body and leaves little kisses on your shoulders or on your face
After the bath he will pick you up wrapping you in a towel and takes you back to the bedroom
Don't worry y/n he's going to take care of everything
He sits on the bed with you on his lap to dry you
Puts on you one of his shirts so you feel more comfortable and if you're not hungry or thirsty just lays with you in bed, holding you close and cuddling you while trying to calm himself too
Eventually he will ask about it but if you don't want to tell him he will respect your decision
He will get you therapy tho, and that's something he won't negotiate with
His mind would be a mess of guilt and concern
Not because he thinks he has done this to you, u like Asa he's not that hard to be in a relationship with but he feels like he should've done more. That maybe he's away too much
For the next few days he will stay with you at home, taking care of you and forcing you to rest and relax
When he eventually needs to go back to work his bringing you with him because he can't even tolerate the idea of you alone with these kind of thoughts in your mind
He would start to tell you more often how much he loves you and how happy you have made him
"You don't have to hide it, it's not your fault you're feeling like this. You can tell me and we will fix it together and if it can't be fixed then I'll take care of you and I'll make sure you don't go away y/n"
He just loves you so much, you don't even know how better his life is with you in it
Sh tw: would you be able to do SH after-care with the slashes if it’s not too triggering for you 💕💕
(again mainly for Brahms because I’m a Simp for the stinky wall man)
Also i’ve been binge reading your blog…I love it here-

♡SLASHER TAKING♡
♡CARE OF YOU♡
CONTENT:
Brahms Heelshire - Rz Michael Myers - Asa Emory
Tw: mention of self harm, mentions of suicide, blood, mentions of depression, mature language, canon violence
A/N: hii! Thank you so much for trusting me with such an important request. I will do my absolute best in writing it. I hope everything it's alright and that you know that if it's getting bad you're allowed to feel sad and to talk about with someone you trust that can help you. Your favourite slasher loves you and there are so many real people who certainly loves you and care for you in real life so take care of yourself okay? I know how it feels but i promised not every day is going to be bad ♡♡♡
BRAHMS HEELSHIRE:
If there's someone who knows what you're going through is him.
He knows how it feels waiting to tear apart each little piece of your body until there's nothing left
The need to feel clean, free and somehow pure again from all the bad things that are latching onto your body and soul
Seeing the signs of that in you though it's way more devastating, way more painful than being stabbed.
You're like the only good thing he has in his life, the only healthy presence that he has been able to keep by his side
I know everyone thinks he would panic or something but he wont. He knows that panicking would make you feel even worse than how you already are
These are the moments where he shows how truly selfless he can be. How much more important your happiness is for him than his own comfort
He will ask permission from you to do anything cause he wants to make sure you feel safe
"Can i get closer y/n?" "May I hold your hand dear?"
He sits right beside you, every movement soft and slow so you don't get stressed
He will remove his mask so you feel more comfortable. His reasoning is that maybe seeing him being vulnerable in front of you will allow you to be less anxious about the whole situation
He's so gentle in holding your hands and turning so the palms are facing him and he has clear view of your wrists
If you start to feel bad or apologising he will just cupped your cheeks and look into your eyes
"It's okay, I know you didn't want to. I'm never, ever, going to be mad at you for this y/n… we'll figure it out okay? I'm going to help you get through this"
Before deciding what to do he takes a look to the cuts
If they're not deep he'll keep reassuring you before trying to clean them up
If they're deep he's going to slowly get up. If you feel like you can't he will carry you to the bathroom
He's surprisingly good at cleaning wounds since he has spent so many years behind the walls. When he first started to live there, as a child, he got hurt a lot and most of the time he didn't asked for help to his parents instead he mended up his wounds by himself
When he has to clean a cut and he knows it will hurt he just litters your face with small and gentle kisses to distract you from the pain
If you want to talk about it he will listen to you without interrupting but if you prefer to talk about something else or even stay quiet he's not going to force you nor making the small talk or silence uncomfortable
Once he finished he will put those cute band aids for kids cause those always cheer him up when he gets hurt ♡♡
No chores today. You will receive all his attention, cuddles and kisses.
If you're hungry he will make you a pb&j with a nice cup of your favourite drink
If you're not his going to just bring you some water and lay with on the bed
He's going to hold you as close as humanly possible to his chest, running his fingers through your hair and planting soft kisses on your face and on your cheeks to dry your tears
He looks at you in the eyes like you're his whole world. There's not pity or commiseration, it's just pure and raw love for you and you only.
Will tell you as many times as you need that he loves you but won't tell you the whole "it's gonna get better" type of talk
He's going to tell you that even if it doesn't and you feel like this he is not going to give up on you never. If he has to fight it for you he's ready to do about anything he can for you to not let you slip away
He's not going to stop trusting you, he will not start to watch you from the walls again but will take away everything that could be use to self harm
Now that he knows what you're going through he'll try to be more nice and patient
He just loves you so much and it's never going to let you down when you need him
ASA EMORY:
I think Asa's trauma is often overlooked in fanfica cause is mentioned only once in the movies i think
Obviously it really did a number on his mental health and the most obvious effect is the whole collector thing
No one would ever imagine that he once used to take all those negative emotions out on himself
He literally tried to cut away every feeling he had whether it was bad or good he wanted all of them gone.
He knows the urgency to completely shut down your entire being, to hurt it and destroy it so bad you can't feel anything that you didn't choose to feel.
He knows too that it's something you can't really help if you're in a particularly bad mental space
So when he sees what you have done to yourself he can't even begin to think what he should do about it
You being with Asa means you're either one of the few victims he tooks a like on or you're his lover that he has met in a more normal way
Either way being with him is hard
If you're his "pet" the whole being a victim situation it's not helping and if you're his lover the fact that he's always so busy is bound to make everything harder
His first priority is to disinfect and medicate your cuts.
As you cry while looking at him you may see his like very calm a collected but inside he is a mess
He wonders if its his fault, if it's him who has pushed you to do such things and whatever is your relationship with him he's going to blame himself
He has done to you what others did to him and even tho that's like the whole point of being the collector he didn't meant to do it to you
Once he has finished with the wounds ecc he's going to sit down and talk with you
You can now see how he truly feels and for the first time he looks so scared and so terrified
He needs to know what is happening cause he has to be able to help, simple as that.
I know it sounds demanding but he's doing it with the best intentions.
He's not gonna shame you or be mad, he just needs you to be honest and tell him everything
While he talks with you he's always going to be holding your hands and fidgeting with your fingers. He needs to feel you but he doesn't wants to make you uncomfortable since there could be a high chance he's the own to blame for this
He's gonna ask so many questions and will truly and fully listen to everything you say
"Is it something I have done? Can I do anything to fix it?" It's not about what he says but how he says it
He sounds heart wrenching guilty and he looks at you like his whole life depends on what you say
Once everything is cleared out he is going to promised to do better and he keeps the promise
He takes care of you, making something to eat and giving you all the affection you need and want.
If you want to keep talking about what's bothering you he will listen and if not he won't push it
That night, he will stay up watching you as you sleep and thinking about how he finally knows he doesn't want you to wither away like everyone else. He realise how close he is to ruin the only thing that makes him happy and he will do everything in his power to avoid losing you
RZ MICHAEL MYERS;
This will be the first time you'll see Michael scared.
He's like looking at you, wide eyed and stiff as a board
I think we can all agree rz mikey has major abandonment issues so if you happen to be his s/o his always going to be on the edge thinking he'll eventually fuck up and you'll leave
Seeing you like this is like the worst thing that could ever happen to him.
Every emotional wall he has on, the tough guy act he has going on ecc all of that is gone
He immediately hurries towards you and whatever you're using to hurt yourself he straight up snatches it from your hand and throws it away
He's going to hug you, holding you as tight as he can and cradling your head against his chest.
He's holding you so close and so much you can hear how fast and hard his heart is beating and you can feel how much he's shaking
"Why would you do that…" his voice is super raspy and is like really quiet so you have to actually listen really close to catch it
He will take you to the bathroom and, mirroring what you do with him when he comes home hurt, he tries to clean every cut
He's not gonna listen when you tell him that it's okay and you don't need help.
When he's done he takes off his mask and just rubs his eyes in frustration to keep away the tears
He's not angry at you, he was just scared
He feels overwhelmed by all these strong emotions he's not used to
But right now he only cares about taking care of you.
He's gonna pick you up and take you to your room. Sits on the bed, place you on his lap with your back against his chest and just wraps his arms around you while placing his head on the crook of your neck
He doesn't want to be seen right now
Not because he doesn't want you to see his face but because he feels like crying and he doesn't want to make you feel bad.
He's just holding you and rocking you back and forth
He doesn't want to push you into talking about it but if you want to he will gladly listen cause he wants to know what's upsetting you so much
Please tell him everything he can do to help you
I know he doesn't show he cares that much but he does, he just doesn't knows how or what to do and most of the time he just gets overwhelmed so if you want him to do anything just say it
He would give you the world if you ask. To him you're more important than anything else I his life
Why Are You Scared? @bootybetterbebruised - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
