w̴e̵l̷c̵o̸m̵e̷ ̵b̵a̵c̴k̸

𓊆ྀི~L̵̹̯͖̩̝̰̀̑̋̑̿̐̈́̍ỏ̴̩̰̯̥̽̃̅̈̍͝s̶̨̢̡̬̑̍͜t̶̨̝̠͚̟̙̾̑ ̵͇̑̒͑̓̐̌̀̄L̵̢̨̛͉̱͎̟̲̠̺̙i̶̝̾͂̓̋t̸͖̉ţ̶̺̜̞̆̓̄̉̅̀͌͘͝ļ̷̡̙͙̯̳͕̻͇͆͒̓̑̈́̑̾̌̀̕e̸̛̻͆̀̔̎͂̀ ̵̻̖̼̯̜̼̬̣̓̆̽͌̈͜͝g̶͇̗̱̠̊̈̋̓͒̈͘i̸̦͉̞͕̺͖͉͌̑͒̀̀͂͂͋̓̒ŗ̷̨̙̹͇̗̀͌l̵̙͇̍̈́̆̾̋̆́̕͜~𓊇ྀི -20’s, eclectic interests- 𓉸ྀི┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈𓉸ྀི

[spookieloverslittlemind]

ཀ𓊆ྀི 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𓊇ྀིཀ

X Thomas Hewitt

X Adam Frankenstein

X Michael Myers

X Pinhead

X Brahms Heelshire

X Art the Clown

X Sun and Moon

X Marta

> Depraved Recs

[c.ai links included in every masterlist <3]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Rules

requests: closed

> gore can be expected in any/all posts due to the nature of the characters but any sexually explicit content will be marked clearly as such

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

my OC’s and backrooms-adjacent content can be found here

[spookieloverslittlemind]

𓅰 Tommy - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man has no concept of sex prior to meeting you, nevermind aftercare. But he is dutiful! When you express a need to be cleaned, he's clumsily rushing to grab a clean rag, but when he rinses it and applies it to your skin only for you to have a most displeased reaction to it being cold, he learns very quickly. You're not getting a steaming bath with rose petals (honestly, in Texas, thank God for that), but you will be held against the broadest chest you've ever known, wrapped securely in a pair of big arms, while he breathes heavily against the top of your head. He's a sweetiepie, he just needs to learn what you like.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Tommy has always favoured his hands because they're big and capable - it's as simple as that to him. When all of his body has felt so large and cumbersome to him for as long as he can remember, and when the sight of him has frightened people for the same length of time, he's always trusted that his hands can do a job and do it well.

His favourite part of your body is covered in this post I already made! ♡

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Has a slight fascination with it at first. Doesn't really understand the texture, or any difference between his and yours, or why his might be more/less watery one day to the next. You have to actively discourage him from spreading his fingers in it to look at it, but as...unconventional as it is, it's quite endearing, because his interest is so genuine. He just doesn't really understand.

In fact, the first time he cums is on your stomach, and when you tell him that's what babies are made from, he keeps looking from your face to the puddle on your tummy in utter bewilderment. Like he's waiting for a baby to appear in the mess, somehow. The look in his eyes is very much "ain't no way there's a whole baby hiding in there..."

Exactly, Tommy. Ain't no way.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Certified panty sniffer. I said it and you didn't even bat an eye. You know it, I know it. We all know it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Zero. Didn't even jerk off before meeting you because nothing had ever inspired feelings of lust in him before he met you. The first time he gets hard is actually very distressing for him because he doesn't understand what's happening, or why he feels like he hurts but doesn't. You have to be very gentle in explaining to him that it's completely normal.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, or having you sat up on a tabletop/countertop so you're a more accessible height while he holds your legs up and tries to avoid breaking your pelvis.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Isn't really a goofy guy, but really likes the way you giggle when he slips out of you or if his cum lands somewhere he didn't intend.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

George W and Kate Bush. Whole Bush family committee. Bush central.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intense - as Tommy is in most situations - but more on the basis of getting a job done, which is how he perceives getting you and himself off. It's something he wants to do and enjoys, but there is an end goal. Like cutting up an animal (or some-one-thing else), there's an end point where he feels satisfied that he's done the job well. He's more intense after the fact, when he's holding you close and feeling his most vulnerable, but simultaneously his most connected to you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This concept is entirely lost on Tommy. Now I know what you're thinking "he's a panty sniffer that doesn't jerk off?" Yes. So he'll sniff your panties and instead of sneaking somewhere quiet to jerk off, he'll hunt you down wherever you are in the house and either stand in the doorway with an obvious tent in his pants or he'll come up behind you and press it against you.

In his defence, why on God's green Earth would he use his own hands when yours are so much prettier?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The most obvious one is a size kink, because Tommy is so much bigger than most people, he likes when he feels that much bigger than you and you don't run away scared. Likes feeling so much bigger and stronger than you, being able to put you in whatever position he wants, hold you up for as long as he needs. Makes him feel like a strong, capable man that he wants to be for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom, but if the house is ever otherwise empty for any amount of time, he will take you anywhere and everywhere. Kitchen counter. Dining room table. Against any and all walls and floors. On the stairs. In the basement (but he'll wipe a surface clean first if you ask x).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just about anything you do has the power to get him riled up because he's crazy about you, but more specifically: when you're especially sweet on him, cooing over him, saying he's done something well or that you're proud of him.

Alternatively, lift your shirt up and flash him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurt you. Doesn't mind holding you by your neck if you're into it, or lightly spanking your ass in the moment, but he wont smack you hard or ever actually slap you - he doesn't like. Mama taught him to be a better gentleman than that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The M in Thomas actually stands for Munch and dare I say he invented the art form. He will literally stay there until you pass out. Once he starts, he will not stop. One thing about Tommy: that man can EAT.

Likes seeing you pretty on your knees for him, but actually just prefers to see you on your knees and smiling up at him. Would rather see you smiling than worry if your pretty mouth's too full.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

"Sensual" isn't in his vocabulary, but he can be slower if the moment calls for it. Can guarantee that by the end of any round he is pounding you relentlessly and your entire ass will be bruised from smacking against his legs.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Completely down, anytime any place. If you need it, he's ready and raring to go at a moment's notice.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not when it comes to risking being caught in public/by his family, no, but is happy to try out any and all non-harmful kinks as long as you explain them to him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The simple answer is: until you cant take anymore. Though easily frustrated, Tommy can push through any amount of overstimulation during sex, so his only real focus is you. If you've had enough, he'll stop because he doesn't want to hurt you. Whether he can keep going or not, doesn't cross his mind.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't own any, doesn't really like them if you have any because he doesn't understand these little gadgets and how they work.

The first time you turn on a vibrator to show him, that giant fucker jumps out of his skin.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tommy is never a purposeful tease, but once he finds out that you like seeing him do physical labour outside that gets him hot and sweaty, when he rolls his sleeves up and his hair's sticking to his face and you're looking at him like you want to eat him (pun intended)...he learns how to play into it because he finds it real funny. Preens like crazy when you start pawing at him.

You can try teasing him. It'll last 3 seconds before he has you under him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Grunts, growls, and the occasional whimper - he's most vocal when he's inside you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves feeling you scratch at him. Whether it's down his broad back, his arms, even his hips, he loves seeing scratch marks you've left on him after he's fucked you right.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Does this even need a description? Huge guy? Broad as hell?

Hold your horse.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's damn near insatiable when he first tries getting intimate with you, because his body experiences something so new and so good and he doesn't know how long it'll last. Once Tommy accepts that you're sticking around, he settles and has a pretty average libido, but he will be ready whenever you need him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

This predominantly depends on how many rounds you've gone for. If it's a fair few, yeah, he'll pass out with you in his arms, but if it's only one or two rounds and it's not late at night? Tommy will hold you until he knows you're asleep, then tuck you in and head downstairs to the basement; he's always got work to do, but once he's done, he'll come straight back to you.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

ok so,, whilst Adam is a very special individual,, I think that he would feel that his sexual desires are a fault or sinful nature and he'd not want to act on them for "harming" is love, but being told they're valid and that HE SHOULD DEFINITELY ((DEFINITELY)) go rough if he wants with enthusiastic consent, would probably,absolutely break the camels back lmao (this big boy has needs and KINKS AND HE DESERVES THEM MET!!)

I am SO sorry this took so long to answer, I started writing this then got distracted by another hyperfixation (as is always the way) and haven't been active at all on this blog since 😅 but this has now been posted - you can read it here ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

ᛪ༙༎ຶ Desiring Sin

The concept of kinks is, of course, something entirely alien to Adam upon first being introduced to intimacy (which, in itself, was a blessing he could never perceive himself to be worthy of). In all honesty, he would prefer some kinks remain alien to him, and those would pertain to any that cause you or him any harm; the matter of that pain being consensual, Adam argues, is eradicated by the fact he would never consent to giving or receiving pain.

Even the most pleasant kinks, however, take a lot of encouragement before Adam is comfortable to attempt them, or openly express desire for them. To accept that his body has desires and he is allowed to act upon them rather than deny himself any and all pleasures as a further act of self-punishment, is very difficult for him. Only the gentlest of hands can ever hope to guide him, and only yours will do.

Any kink pertaining to praise/worshipful language/acts towards you, come most naturally to Adam. Receiving praise is difficult for him to believe, initially, but with time he forms a deep, vulnerable fondness for pleasuring you and having this not only acknowledged but expressed loudly to him. In moments of such intense intimacy, even he cannot deny the truth in the melodious sounds you make for him.

Having had very little control in being brought into this world and no one to rely on but himself, Adam prefers to be cared for gently outside of the bedroom, but to be the one controlling that care inside the bedroom; to feel your trust in him to nurture and pleasure your body is the greatest honour any could bestow upon him, and he takes it incredibly seriously. If you ask him outside of the bedroom, he will vehemently refuse to ever touch you firmly (or ravage you, as you have very politely requested), but in the heat of the moment, when you are writhing under him and begging for more of him? Adam will break the very bed on which you lay together with a single thrust, and that will not stop him. Once the lustful haze has passed and the blissful aftermath has settled, though, he will spend the rest of the night kissing over the blooming lilacs that his fingertips have left anywhere on your precious skin.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

𓅰 - 𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔱 - 𓅰

these will be in specific reference to 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' (2003) and 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning' (2006)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Everyone:

X Someone else flirts with you

X Affection with them

X Petnames they call you

X Petnames you call them

X Tits vs Ass debate

X Their favourite movie

X How protective are they

X Their favourite part of you (emotionally)

X Their favourite part of you (physically)

Individual hc's:

X "Dating" would include

X NSFW Alphabet

Imagines:

X

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

[spookieloverslittlemind]

How protective are they…

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

Thomas

This one is actually mostly covered by this post because Tommy doesn't understand flirting, so would only really have a protective response to you being made to feel uncomfortable by someone else.

Adam

Is this a jest. Adam has never had anyone or anything to truly call his own; once he accepts that you have no intention of parting from him, anything or anyone threatens that can and will suffer his wrath. Make no mistake, he is a man of reason and would prefer a stern talking-to as opposed to a physical altercation (the advantage of his strength over any normal man is not something he wishes to demonstrate if he can help it), but he will not hesitate to protect you with everything in him. Worries after your more feeble form to no end - no matter your height, he towers over you and is far stronger/more resilient than you - and will fret over you getting something as insignificant as a paper cut.

“Curse all parchment! And curse the free from which this paper came! Curse the seed from which said tree was planted! No paper shall cross this threshold ever again, lest it bring harm to an angel’s hands!”

Michael

Is this a joke. Michael will literally kill anyone who breathes your air if you ask him to. In fact, at the start of your relationship you had to set a boundary by telling him not to kill every person you encounter, unless you give him the clear (given those kills aren’t his own random kills, he allows you to set a rule of “don’t just kill everyone”). This stems from him walking out your front door, following the mail man one time. Michael is the epitome of the “me and my bitch don’t argue she tell me shut up and I do” trope when it comes to you except his version of shutting-up is putting down the knife. That said, you’ve got plenty of time to stop Michael because he’s only ever walking after someone, so there’s not much danger of him accidentally killing the wrong person. When, however, you do give him the green light to commit murder in the first degree…Michael’s all over it like a bad rash. You’ve never seen him walk with more purpose than when you’ve sighed and said “fine” to him killing someone. Once, you made the mistake of telling Michael he was allowed to threaten but not kill - you were very specific - man who’d been bothering you at work. At first, you thought the guy was just off sick for a couple of days out of pure fear from his encounter with Mike. Then you started seeing the missing person posters. You had one of them on the dining room table when Michael next came to visit and he just tilted his head with the closest expression he can pull to resemble 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 behind the black eye holes of his mask.

Pinhead

Is this a joke. Pinhead can and will summon a portal to any circle of Hell of his choosing to forcibly grab any mf that tries you in any capacity via chains and drag them to eternal suffering. He doesn’t even have to be there to witness the crime before he’s playing judge, jury and executioner that omniscient bastard. He’s very calm and collected about his protectiveness unless someone actually hurts you, in which case he personally handles their eternal torture. Pinhead doesn’t have much of a concept for politeness but the first time he felt the energy of a cashier being less than friendly to you he summoned a portal and you had to rush home to explain that any poor soul working in customer services suffers enough and should not be sent to Hell for being less than happy working in a different kind of Hell for minimum wage. Thankfully, Pinhead brought them back and erased their memory (and injuries) so that trauma never really happened and he learned a valuable lesson that day x

Brahms

Is this a joke. Brahms will not hesitate to kill anyone that sets foot in the house unless you give him a full briefing on, like, your sister coming to visit or something. He’s more lenient with women coming over because he likes watching you smile as you talk to them from where he resides behind the walls but men? Hahahaha. You’re funny. Real funny. You should try standup. ‘Cause you know who’s standing up whenever a man’s voice is heard. And you know who’s killing them with his bare hands. It’s rare anyone has the opportunity to upset you because you’re trapped in Brahms’ mansion, but he’s the kind to track down the exact piece of paper that gave you a paper cut and tear it to shreds. Burn it. Eat it. So it’s fair to say Brahms is very, very protective. It’s a good thing he’s not allowed out, really.

Art

Is this a joke. Like everything about him, Art’s protective nature is…unique, but he’s definitely got it. He’ll watch someone upset you until it makes you cry and then flay a man, type beat. If anyone physically hurts you then yeah, they’re dead, but apart from that he likes to test how far someone will go to upset you before he steps in to act their punishment. Surprisingly, Art’s a lot more laidback than others on this list when it comes to not wanting to kill every person you come in contact with; he’s more prone to jealousy, really, because if he sees someone else making you laugh anywhere close to the amount he makes you laugh, he will want to gut them. And he probably will when you’re out of the room. And he’ll dispose of the body before you get back and mime something about “oh 😱 they had to go ☹️👉🏻 suddenly 🤭” and then you never hear from that person again, for reasons Art pretends he doesn’t know.

Sun and Moon

Is this a joke. Sun is incapable of withholding Moon if you get even mildly disrespected in any given circumstance they’re so protective of you, just hearing about you being upset is enough to get Moon appearing. Sun’s the type to remind you that you are safe and he (and Moon) will never let anyone or anything hurt you. Moon’s the type to shout at and throw toys that have hurt you or tripped you up in the Daycare. Sun is very good at comforting you and cheering you up after the fact, but it’s Moon who handles the punishment. He’s been known to leave the Daycare out of working hours to hunt down “naughty” people, and because you’ll feel guilty about it he deliberately doesn’t tell you the things he does, except to say “they will not upset you again…🌚”

Marta

Is this a joke. This servant to God has dedicated her life to cleansing the world of heretics and you think she won’t disembowel every soul that blasphemes in the presence of God’s purest gift to her? She may not have a sense of humour but you, my friend, are hilarious. Marta doesn’t understand petty offences of someone being unkind to you, unless you explain it to her, but as soon as she comprehends the fact you are even remotely unsettled by someone’s presence…God has whispered that person’s fate in her ear, and she won’t hesitate to bring it forth. Marta is not someone you can reason with, so people very quickly accept that to harm you, your spirit or your purity in any conceivable way, is to sign their own death warrant. You can’t stop her, either, because unfortunately when you say “they hurt my feelings”, God sends her a telepathic message that’s the equivalent of “🫵🏻👁️👁️👉🏻🔪”

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Someone else flirts with you…

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

Thomas

Tommy doesn't really grasp the social concept of flirting; he knows that he doesn't feel good when another man looks at you in a certain way, or compliments you with words he wishes he could say, but he wouldn't necessary lash out at those things. He'd just feel a little sad, be a little withdrawn until you give him some much needed reassurance.

However, if Tommy witnesses someone making you visibly uncomfortable in any context? Or if you tell him about an occasion in which that occurred when he wasn't around to see it? Oh, that, he will not stand for. At all. If he sees it happen for himself, there will be absolutely no hesitation in Tommy just storming up, grabbing any nearby object that looks heavy, and use it to pound the perpetrators head in. Fixing your discomfort as quickly as possible is his priority.

If Tommy isn't there to see the situation unfold and instead you tell him about it afterwards, he will huff until you give him a description of the person, and hunt the town for them until he can deal with the issue himself. If it's a case of you telling Tommy about an incident from before you met him/someone presently too far away for him to quickly track down and beat to death, he will instead pick you up and take you to his room, barricade his door shut and just hold you on his lap, on his bed. Borderline suffocate you against his chest. His way of making sure that person doesn't find you again.

Adam

Harbouring an 8ft tall man in your home does - shockingly - have some drawbacks. Of course, the company is unparalleled, but Adam will never deny that the very worst (and only) downside to cohabiting with you is every moment in which you are not within touching distance. Under that umbrella, he favours instances in which you have to leave the house, least of all. Each time, he will insist that he will watch over you and that should any form of trouble occur, he will not hesitate to make his presence known, possibly prompting a mob to drive him out of your village, but he is willing to take that risk for you no matter the cost.

Adam is sitting at the window, peaking through the sliver of space between your curtains to watchfully guard you on your journey from your home to the bakehouse across the street when on your way, you are halted by a man. Your guardian angel is immediately displeased by this, but he watches as you politely dismiss the man’s advances, fetch what you need from the bakehouse, and return home, at which time you divulge the man had been enquiring after your hand. Outraged by the man’s audacity, Adam was going to give him a stern talking to (and perhaps knock him into next week), when you took one of his large hands and requested he hold you instead. A far more important cause to attend to, he wagered.

Michael

Taking Michael to a Halloween party seemed like a good idea at first, it was one of the only places his “costume” doesn’t appear out of place. It was a good night, for the most part; you got to introduce Michael to your friends, explaining (depending on how well you know them) that Michael was mute/not speaking as part of his “costume”, and of course Michael recognised all of your friends from what you’d already told him of them. He stuck by your side - a shadow - for the duration of the night, dark gaze fixed on you as you laughed with your friends, completely at ease despite the presence of the intimidating shape. That was, until someone stupid approached you and your friends at the bar, and tried to hit on you. It didn’t matter the nature of the flirtation, whether it was crude or polite, that person’s fate was sealed. Michael’s head very slowly turned to them, then back to you, and you gave Michael a look that he understood well. You were giving him the go-head, but within reason. With that, Michael left the party one minute before the rest of you and your friends did, so that he could wait outside for the fucker to follow you out. When the person did, Michael was there.

The next morning, there was a particularly disturbing article on the frontpage of every local newspaper pertaining to a gruesome murder of some “poor soul” found disembowelled in an alleyway behind the bar. Most notably, missing a tongue. Michael ensured that person wouldn’t flirt with you again, even dead.

Pinhead

The notion of someone “always being with you” is usually meant in some spiritual/emotional sense to reassure, but in Pinhead’s mind that’s an entirely literal sentiment and he proves it to you regularly. There you were, getting groceries, minding your own business when you were approached by someone. Before they had even uttered a word, a sharp wind blew from a portal that had materialised between you and the person, chains flying from it and grabbing them by their limbs, dragging them into a circle of Hell with a scream that was cut-off by the portal suddenly closing and disappearing entirely. You sigh heavily and continue your shopping, but when you get home? You’ve got questions.

“Someone tried talking to me today.” You mused thoughtfully as you and Pinhead tidied away the groceries into your kitchen, speaking in a tone that made it obvious you knew what he’d done.

“They did.” Pinhead didn’t even bother to hide it.

“Yeah, and they didn’t even get a word out before they were snatched from this dimension by some familiar-looking chains.” You turned to raise an eyebrow up at Pinhead, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“Perhaps they did not need to speak. Perhaps…the nature of their thoughts spoke loud enough.” Pinhead answered as he looked down at you, holding your gaze deliberately until you scoffed.

Nobody even needs to flirt with you for Pinhead to send them packing. To Hell.

Brahms

You had a job persuading Brahms that you need to call a professional out to fix the plumbing in the old-fashioned mansion you now share with him. When he’d insisted he could try and fix it himself, you gave him a look that had him hanging his head at his towering height. Not taking kindly to strangers, you promised Brahms you would deal with the plumber while Brahms stayed behind the walls, following through the house to make sure he was there if anything went awry. And awry it went.

Unfortunately, Brahms hiding in the walls and the mansion being otherwise silent caused the plumber to assume you lived alone and were, therefore, single. At the first insinuation of that, Brahms was close to punching a fist through the wall, but you were quick to correct the plumber and assure that your boyfriend would be home “any minute”. You had hoped that would be enough, but alas. The second the plumber flirted with you outright, the walls began to shake with the heavy thuds of Brahms’ footsteps, and you let your head fall to your hand with a sigh.

“You should’ve taken the hint.” You told the plumber, and by the time you lifted your head, Brahms was filling the doorway, breathing heavily.

He waited there for you. Waited until you walked up to him, at which point he stepped aside, allowing you to pass so that you were safely out of the room. And while you heard the screams of the damned, you started preparing dinner.

Art

Art has never cared about being inconspicuous, so anytime you suggest getting takeout in the early hours of the morning, Art is always happy to accompany you, no matter who sees him. He’ll get the bus with you, drive you places, walk the streets. It gives you the confidence to go out in just your pyjamas when you’re walking next to your deranged-and-immortal clown boyfriend, because the attention is never on you, and you prefer it that way.

So when you go to get pizza one night and the guy at the front desk offers you more than an extra topping, you’re looking over your shoulder at Art - who had been standing at the display windows, breathing on them and drawing penises onto the condensation on the glass. Art turns around and pretends to laugh very enthusiastically, clapping his hands in silent glee as he skips over to the front desk. On his way over to you, Art flicks your nose endearingly, and you grab the pizza boxes to take them outside. Leaning against the building and looking up at the stars, you wait for all of thirty seconds with a slice of pizza hanging from your mouth, before Art joins you. Deliberately jumps through the door to startle you, of course, and giving you a thumbs up. Looking back through the display windows, you can see the decapitated staff member’s head pressed against the penis drawings on the glass. Suck on that, Art signs.

Sun and Moon

Unbelievably, even in the Pizzaplex while doing your job, you are not safe from being flirted with by unwanted presences. Being one of the few hired to assist the animatronics with caring for the children, you are assigned to the daycare to help the kids warm to Sun and Moon - because they’re a pretty big animatronic and some of the younger children are instinctively frightened - and at the end of the day, parents collecting their children often feel more comfortable thanking you than they do the animatronics, for looking after the children. One said parent took thanking you a little too far, and when you politely rejected their flirtations, they didn’t take that for an answer. You could see Sun across the daycare, entertaining the last of the children waiting for their parents to collect them, but he stilled on hearing that parent. Bending his knees, Sun launched himself into the air, and in the time it took him to stand behind you, Moon had taken over.

“A parent should know better than to be so naughty, you are not setting a good example! It would be a shame if you said nighty-night and never opened your eyes again, but these things do happen…” Moon growled lowly above your head, towering over you from behind.

“A-Are you threatening me?” The parent stuttered with wide eyes.

“Bad children must be punished. Bad grownups must be…” Moon giggled mechanically to himself, gesturing for the parent to skedaddle, which they abruptly did.

After closing time, Sun and Moon spent the entire night arguing with each other about whether it would be morally wrong to hunt and kill that parent for flirting with you and consequently leaving the child fatherless. In the end, Sun rationalised that was not a good plan, and Moon sulked.

Marta

It’s pretty rare you’d encounter a scenario where anyone has the opportunity to flirt with you in front of Marta, and even rarer an opportunity that Marta acknowledge it. Among feminine presences, compliments to you are praises to God’s gift, as far as Marta is concerned, so she takes no issue with those unless they make you uncomfortable enough for her to notice. But, if a remotely masculine person says anything other than pure words with innocent intention? Not even to you, but in front of you?

“God give me voice, God guide my hand…” Marta raises her axe and brings it down with unseemly might, straight into the groin of whoever said something she didn’t like, and you’re quick to cover your eyes.

“Marta! It was only a compliment to my dress!” You tried to defend the poor soul who had already been taken from this life.

“Speak with a tongue of sin in the presence of the righteous one; the dress that hides your modesty, that protects you from foul seed…” Marta continued to ramble as she lifted her free hand, tilting your head up by your chin to leave a kiss on your brow.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Affection with them…

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

Thomas

He means well and intends to be very affectionate with you, but is as clumsy as he is unversed in romance. Tommy has to focus his all in being gentle with you, because he doesn't really know his own strength beyond the fact that it's...a lot. More than most. And his hands are very big. So he learns by trying, and is very wary in his movements because he's so uncertain - stroking your cheek and nose with one large fingertip, petting the top of your head, cradling your hands in his much larger ones. Always wants to be touching you in some way.

Adam

The ‘A’ in Adam stands for Affection, actually. It takes some time for him to become accustomed to receiving affection and being allowed to give it, considering he has only been rejected and brutalised for his attempts in seeking out companionship, but once he knows for certain your affection is his, he will be a glutton for it. He thinks it unbecoming to beg, but it certainly isn’t beneath him to do so; will follow you from room to room like an incredibly exaggerated shadow, large hands on your waist, hips, tracing circles on your sides, over your stomach, finding one of your hands to claim (as long as you aren’t busy doing something, he never wants to disturb you or be a burden). Kisses are Adam’s absolute favourite, breathing you in so intimately is the closest to Heaven he believes he will ever ascertain. He is continually surprised each and every time you initiate a kiss with him, because he cant quite accept the fact that anyone - much less someone as radiant as you - would want to kiss him.

Michael

The Shape is a very…rigid character. He’s not exactly known for moving with any kind of fluidity, but what he does do is move with purpose. Always. With that in mind, Michael’s affections are never subtle. He might slowly reach for your hand, your thigh, or to cup the side of your face, but his hold on you will be firm. Only hard enough to hurt when things get steamy, in general Michael’s hold on you is firm, but not painful. Inherently possessive. Sometimes, it’ll take him a little while to hug you back, but he will, and his preference is typically one hand holding the entirety of the back of your head, while his other hand holds either your hip, or trails down to the back of your thigh to start lifting it, kneading at the flesh.

Pinhead

The heights of pain and pleasure don’t exactly leave a lot of room for tender affections, but Pinhead is enthralled by learning something from you, and takes his lessons very seriously. Be prepared for approximately 4 billion questions on absolutely every detail of affection you explain to him; he wants to fully understand your boundaries, thoughts and feelings, preferences and dislikes as well as objective facts surrounding affection. Pinhead requires physical demonstrations and will practice like it is a martial art. The first time he took initiative to walk up behind you and hold your waist while you were cooking? You almost died (you said that was objectively true, Pinhead denied this). His affections are deliberate and intentional, but he is very capable of a featherlight touch, and in fact enjoys those sensations most. Having felt every height of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity found in the lightest touch comes to be Pinhead’s favourite.

Brahms

In a word, bro is clingy. For the majority of his life, physical contact with people has been off-limits to Brahms, so you can’t be surprised. You’ll have to teach him how to kiss because he gets too excited and starts slobbering all over your mouth, but once he knows how to kiss, he never wants to do anything else. And whenever Brahms asks - after you’ve taught him the concept of consent - to touch you somewhere he hasn’t already thought of and gets your permission, he will not leave that part of you alone. For. Hours. Any affection you give Brahms will not be enough and he will beg for more. Quite frankly, unless you are naked and capable of making out with him him, riding him, jerking him off, sucking him off, holding his hands, holding his face, playing with his hair and cuddling with him simultaneously, he will get whiney. But that’s our boy <3

Art

The only gentle affection Art understands at first is booping you on the nose. Beyond that, you’ll have to set some boundaries and explain that “no, Art, you cant grab my wrist hard enough to break it when we’re in public; have some decency” and he’s all 😱 That said, Art does learn, and does like affection. Mostly, he likes having your attention, so the little kisses you leave on his painted cheeks and the way you reach for his hand will have him pretending to twirl his hair and kick his feet as he skips around. With you, Art’s still the same oddball. Rather than hold your hand, he’ll play with your fingers. Rather than kiss you on the lips, he’ll lick your lips (he’s a freak).

Sun and Moon

Given their differing traits, it’s no surprise they express/prefer their affections differently. While Sun likes patting your head, Moon prefers plaiting your hair (if it’s long enough, if not he just prefers playing with it). Sun will hold your hand, Moon will hold your wrist. Sun will lift you up and spin you around, Moon will cradle you to his chest. But, both are equally big fans of you kissing their face plate; it doesn’t matter if it’s one little kiss, several, or a lingering kiss - any kiss to the faceplate will have Sun skipping around with glee and Moon swooning where he stands.

Marta

Affection is a difficult topic to broach with Marta without you coming across to her as having sinful thoughts of her (you do, but you’ll keep that between you and God fr). There are certain affections - such as tipping your head and kissing your brow/forehead - that come naturally to Marta because they feel entirely innocent gestures. Kisses to one of God’s countless gifts; every kiss she gives you is one of thanks. Marta does not like holding hands very much because she would rather have her hands free to wield her weapon, but she compromises by letting you hold onto her arm. Holding each other…takes time, and is still a rare occurrence. Only in the darkness of night when you are sound asleep, does Marta play with your hair and whisper the most thankful prayers to God for delivering you to her <3

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite part of you (physically)…

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

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

Thomas

If you ask him this question directly, Tommy will think about it very hard, huff, then point one thick finger at your lips. That's where all the sweet words you speak to him, come from. That's what you use to kiss him. That is his most favourite part of you. It doesn't overshadow how much he loves every other part of you, because you know he loves you wholly (he'd get very distressed if he found out you ever thought otherwise), but that is his simple answer for his simple reasons.

Adam

Will refuse to answer this question if you put it to him, but the answer is obvious: your eyes. So many have looked upon Adam with disgust and contempt, each and every time he witnesses you gazing up at him with a soft expression of kindness in your eyes, it very nearly sends him to his knees. He can read your every micro expression in your eyes without the need for words, and considers it an honour to know the windows of your soul so intimately.

Michael

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

Pinhead

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

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

Brahms

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

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

Art

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

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

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

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

Sun and Moon

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

Marta

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

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite part of you (emotionally)…

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

Thomas

Your tenderness - having never had anyone (except Mama) treat him like he's worth a damn, or equal to anyone, or anything special, the fact that you are so tender with him means everything. You see past his mask, his shortcomings, his massive intimidating stature, and see the big sweetheart he truly is. All Tommy has ever wanted is someone to be tender with him, speak to him softly, touch him gently, and you do. Always. It doesn't matter how frustrated or distressed he is (or why), you are always so sweet to him, so tender, and he loves that about you most of all.

Adam

Your empathy - one of the many kindnesses that Adam has existed almost entirely without receiving from anyone, and you offer it to him in abundance. It is beyond his comprehension at first, that any person could ever be empathetic towards a monster like him, but for all of his miserable existence he has desperately yearned for exactly that; one to listen and understand him, to know him, to give him the chance to prove the worth of his humanity. Adam never dared to dream he would hear such words as “I understand”, “you have nothing to be sorry for”, until you give him that and so much more.

Michael

Your warmth - naturally, what Michael appreciates most about you is what he has never received from anyone else in his life: warmth. You look at him and see more than just The Shape; you can dare to look at him and treat him with affection. Tenderness. It’s an alien sensation, and Michael can’t agree that it makes him happy, because happiness isn’t something he really feels, but it does make him feel…at peace. Content. Michael can’t reciprocate your warmth, but he does try to reciprocate your affection in a rigid sort of way, and that’s how you know he appreciates the trait in you.

Pinhead

Your understanding - there is nothing Pinhead loves more than learning new things; you being able to teach him every intricate detail of you: your life, your friends, your family, your job, your body, your likes and dislikes, without judging him for all of the questions he asks of you and instead just understanding that he wants to learn you, means the world to him. Pinhead never wants to frustrate you unless it’s sexually, so you understanding him so deeply and appreciating the layers of his being rather than fearing him at a surface level, opens his eyes to the depth of human beings.

Brahms

Your patience - Brahms is aware that he’s incredibly needy and has been known to act up to get attention, so your patience with him means absolutely everything; that you don’t discipline him with any kind of harsh punishment, instead gentleness, teaching him that he doesn’t need to misbehave or do things he knows will upset you when all he wants is your attention. Learning that he can simply ask for that from you is a monumental step from Brahms, because he is so accustomed to only getting emotional responses from his parents when he did something wrong. Your patience shows him a different way, a more peaceful and loving way, that has him feeling more cherished than ever.

Art

Your skittish nature - to be honest, there is nothing Art loves more than scaring you; to hide behind corners and jump out at you, startle you awake, the fact you never adapt or learn to expect it and continue to just jump out of your skin every single time? Art loves it. And he loves the aftermath, too, when he drags you into his arms to coddle and rock you with silent shushes while he plays with your hair, rubbing your arms to soothe you, like he’s not the reason you just experienced palpitations. It’s a lovely little game of manipulation that Art adores, and you learn to love for the cuddles you get afterwards. Call it aftercare.

Sun and Moon

Your kindness - your ability to amend your kindness to apply most efficiently to both Sun and Moon never fails to amaze them; you so easily switch from being kind and encouraging and fun for Sun, to being calm and reassuring for Moon, and both states are simply examples of the kindness that radiates from you. So few have ever bothered to learn the intricate differences between Sun and Moon, but you have, and you’ve done so out of kindness, to treat them both with kindness that best suits them as individuals. Two halves of a whole, yes, but two entirely separate halves, and when either malfunction, it is always you that is sent to deescalate the situation because only you know how to best get through to them.

Marta

Your submission - not even in a kinky way (though that definitely also applies), but the way you submit both to her and to God like it’s in your nature regardless of your personal belief system; that you don’t judge or question her faith beyond asking what she or God would suggest to guide you with certain moral dilemmas etc. You accept her as she is and you trust her completely to care for you, for both of you, and leave righteous lives down your intertwined paths. Marta’s faith is her only experience and understanding of love, and it is through that she learns a different kind of love, with you. Had you defied her, or held any trait above your submission, she probably would have just killed you (hot) x

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite movie…

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

spoilers: mentions of Saw and LOTR endings but tried to keep it vague just in case

Thomas

Hasn't seen all that many movies, but likes ones that aren't difficult to understand, best. Likes animated films, the kinds of movies that kids watch before bedtime, because he never had that opportunity and finds them very calming. Doesn't like loud films, or confusing mysteries; he doesn't like misunderstanding plot twists and feels stupid when you have to explain things to him. Tommy gets very frustrated with himself, so prefers easy-viewing movies. His favourites are 'The Rescuers' and 'Cinderella' because he likes seeing little mice talk.

Adam

Having witnessed the birth of film, Adam enjoys the classics, in particular Hitchcock’s work, but in terms of more modern cinema, he enjoys wholesome Disney films - more specifically, Beauty And The Beast. Someone seeing the beauty in and learning to love a cursed “beast” outcasted by society is a dream come true in his mind.

Michael

I wouldn’t say he’s “happy” to watch anything, because Michael doesn’t really express “happiness” in any context, but he is content to sit completely still for hours on end, watching whatever you choose. He doesn’t form opinions on films so doesn’t have a favourite, but when you watch a gory horror film together, the SECOND the end credits are rolling he is up and grabbing his knife, heading for the door; Mike loves some inspo x

Pinhead

Fascinated by human media, having long forgotten that aspect of humanity. Pinhead enjoys films that he finds mentally stimulating, thrillers and mysteries mostly (gory films have him scoffing because he could easily make a far more gory scene in the blink of an eye). That said, Pinhead doesn’t like rewatching films because if they have a mystery and he’s solved it, he has no interest in seeing it again because “It is done; an experience that cannot be repeated”. His favourite film is Saw because he was completely blindsided by the plot twist at the end - obviously, a body on the floor of the entire film is nothing more than furniture to Pinhead, so when bro GOT UP?? Pinhead was losing it. Had to pause the film to pace for a few minutes. Couldn’t comprehend how he didn’t see it coming.

Brahms

Every Barbie movie from the early 2000’s, classic animated Disney princess films, and Peter Pan; Brahms thinks the princesses are very pretty (often comparing them to you regardless of your gender because he romanticises every fibre of your being) and believes himself to be the boy who never quite grew up, ironically. Doesn’t mind gory films, but doesn’t like complicated ones because he gets very frustrated; prefers to cuddle up with you and watch something wholesome. Will get pouty and is not above begging to start a movie over the second it’s finished.

Art

He’s pretty casual about the films he likes, he prefers classics that have decent remakes and his favourite is Carrie - a revenge plot with magical powers that cause a gory rampage? Count Art in. What he is passionate about, though, is the film he hates more than any other that fits the same criteria of a classic with a decent remake: It. And it’s literally because Art thinks he himself is the best scary clown. Sometimes you put it on (either the classic or new, the reaction is the same) just to piss him off and Art will come storming in, signing angry gibberish with flailing hands until he’s sulking on the couch beside you because he will insist on watching the entire thing again so that he can complain throughout.

Sun and Moon

Sun likes exciting films with happy endings, a very big fan of action movies. Contrary to this, his favourite movie isn’t just one, but the full Lord Of The Rings trilogy - Sun loved reading the books in between watching the films to digest every scrap of lore, but after watching the end of Return Of The King? Couldn’t bring himself to read the last book, because it was too sad. Sun is adamant he will never rewatch the trilogy because it upset him but objectively, that’s his favourite. He’s overjoyed to watch anything with you, because he loves spending time with you, but you have to tell him in advance it has a happy ending or he wont watch it, and if you lie? Moon pending.

Moon prefers quieter, calmer and darker films, with a particular love for gothic horrors based on the supernatural rather than slashers/gorefests. His favourite is An American Werewolf In London, the negative aspects of the transformation being very relatable to Moon.

Marta

Say hello to the biggest film critic of all time. Marta will insist that watching movies is a waste of good time that could be spent praising God or eradicating heretics, so will turn her nose up at almost every suggestion you make, but when you show her John Wick? Oh, Marta’s sense of justice is PREENING. She’s all about that. By the end, her internal monologue is begging God not to let her joy show on her face. As long as you tell her a film is like John Wick, she’ll give it a chance, but John Wick remains her favourite.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Tits vs Ass debate…

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

Thomas

Tommy's an old-fashioned man from an old-fashioned family, with a creepy adoptive uncle/father who's made an affection for tits the 'correct' answer as far as Tommy is aware. That said, he doesn't really have an opinion. Any part of you he can bury his face in, huff against and feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, he loves.

Adam

Please do not put a question of this magnitude to this poor man. He will collapse to his knees, forlorn and bereft, lost to the anguish of being able to choose between such beautiful parts of you.

He also never had a mother so has the most mommy issues a person is capable of having so his answer is obvious even if he cannot say it.

Michael

Firmly on the side of tits, but not for the simple neanderthal-man reasons you might expect. Michael prefers tits over ass because to see your tits, he’s looking down into your eyes <3

Pinhead

Ass. Any hole is a goal. He likes nipples, but as far as tits go he’s pretty indifferent; a hole of any kind is far more…entertaining.

Brahms

Tits, obviously. You’ve never known a man to suck tiddies quite like this one.

Art

Completely impartial; whatever you’ve got, Art’s all over it. Bruising it, most definitely.

Sun and Moon

Ass. Something about the jiggle physics amused both Sun and Moon to no end. It isn’t even about making it clap, although they enjoy that, too.

Marta

This lesbian icon who lives and breathes her faith? Please. Thoughts and prayers and boobies for our girl.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Petnames you call them…

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

Thomas

Gets incredibly flustered when you call him "big guy", because he likes that it's something true, something he can agree with, while still being some physical aspect of him that you like. Blushes very deeply under his mask, wrings his hands, gets very fidgety, will occasionally even make little grumbling sounds because he's so overwhelmed and giddy. Just wants to grab you and hold you close every time you call him that. Tommy doesn't want to be anything more than he wants to be your big guy.

Adam

Adores when you call him things like “lover”, because that is a title that he never dared to dream would be bestowed upon him. Will initially react dismissively and sadly to any petnames that serve to praise him (calling him “handsome” etc); he has never been called such things before, so finds it very difficult to believe you are being earnest. Does, however, very much enjoy being called your “sweet gentleman”.

Michael

He doesn’t tend to react differently to any petnames you call him, even for the very first time, but somehow he always knows you’re referring to him. Michael, Mike, Mickey, Mick- you called him Mickey Mouse once and he just stood there with his typical -_- and you laughed your way to an asthma attack. If you’re looking for a guaranteed head-tilt-to-the-side-like-a-puppy reaction, any variation of “pookie” will do it. Pookie, pooks, shmookums, the more sickly sweet and oddly fitting to The Shape, the better.

Pinhead

Does not tolerate being called “pincushion” when cuddling so stop doing it. Also does not tolerate being called “cheese” when he takes some of his pins out of his face and you can see the holes in his skin. Prefers the more casual petnames like “babe”, “love”, “handsome” because when compared to his more flowery and poetic language, Pinhead enjoys the simplicity of those terms coming from you.

Brahms

You KNOW this mf loves any petname that babies him, including “baby”. Anything sweet and endearing - including literally calling him “sweet” - like “beloved”, “angel”, “pretty boy”, “sweet boy”, and even “handsome man” because he will PREEN under your praise.

Art

Likes it when you call him silly but sweet things: your “favourite clown”, “court jester”, “silly boy” - he likes when you call him yours, especially. Because Art cant speak, he appreciates when you reciprocate his sign language and gestures just as much as he does your petnames, if not more; Art likes when you flick his nose after he’s flicked yours, when you beckon him over with a gesture like he does to you. Communications that are only understood between the two of you.

Sun and Moon

These two are pretty self-explanatory: they like petnames that are synonymous with them. Sun likes to be called “sundrop”, “sunshine”, “sunbeam”, “light of my life”, “rainbow”; Moon likes to be called “moondrop”, “moonlight”, “star”, “starlight”, “lucky star”, etc. The closer it is to their names and the more creative it is, the more they’ll enjoy the petname!

Marta

None of your typical petnames apply here, and you have to be careful what you call Marta if not her name. She does not like flowery petnames or cutesy ones, or flirty ones because those are sinful - if you call her “angel”, she might actually kill you - but she does like compliments, so it’s probably best you stick to those. Calling her “strong”, “righteous”, “God’s trusted and humble servant”, those will all go down well. You’re walking on eggshells testing out new petnames, too. Sometimes she will scoff but yield to you calling her “pretty”, because in her heart Marta is just a girl <3

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Petnames they call you…

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

Thomas

Tommy doesn't/cant speak, but will find any and all ways to communicate with you that he can; he is desperate to convey how much you mean to him, and how happy he is to have you. Not being the sharpest mentally, he's not the most articulate even in his own chosen forms of communication, often attempting to sign to you in such a clumsy and frantic way that you have to put your hands over his much larger ones to encourage him to slow down and try again so that you can understand what he's trying to tell you. That said, there are some gestures from him that are simply unmistakable: he will lift your chin to meet his eyes, hold your gaze just for a moment, before dropping your chin and going to do something (his way of taking you in before he has to part from you, however briefly), and he will trace the ridge of your nose/tap it ever so lightly with one fingertip (that sentiment ranges from something entirely playful, to a gesture of profound fondness, because he only knows how to be that gentle when it's you).

Adam

Perhaps the most verbal/inclined to romantic attention on this list, Adam does not shy away from showering you in petnames. Above all else, he will call you “angel”, more specifically “my angel”, because he is of the belief you were placed on the Earth as the only person who could ever love him. He will also call you “little angel” on account of you (no matter your height) being diminutive when compared to him, and variations thereupon respectful titles with the utmost affection - “my beautiful/handsome/treasured/precious…lady/lord” - because he’s an old fashioned man from an old fashioned time. Beyond tradition, Adam will regard you as “my moonlight” on account of the light of the moon being the first beautiful thing he remembers seeing when his existence began.

Michael

Bro does not speak and he most definitely does not sign to you, he doesn’t care to communicate that way, so you have to learn to read his body language. Which isn’t easy when he can stand stock still for literal hours and you can barely tell if he’s breathing, but I digress. You learn. Every slight variation in the tilt of his head, his hands clenching at his sides, the size of his steps, how close he sits to you - everything. That’s how you determine his affections at any given time. You could profess your undying love for this man while he just -_-

And when you’re finished, he’ll place his hand over your knee and you’ll burst into tears because that’s basically his way of conveying a sentiment along the lines of: “you are my sun, my sea, my sky; the only one to ever understand and love me; the only soul I ever desire to know; the love in my heart for you is the only redeemable characteristic I possess for the vessel of evil I am powerless in resisting and yet that love is enough to keep me from damnation because it is you; everything is you; every breath I take behind this mask is a prayer to you; and I love you”. So yeah. Cry more.

Pinhead

This omniscient mf is not about to fall short when it comes to petnames, that’s for sure. He’s busting out the most poetic and long-winded shit known to man. Calling you things like “my divine work of sunshine”, “ethereal delight”, “goddess/god of this pinned heart” - and Pinhead makes them up on the fly, too. Has a new one almost everyday but cycles back through old favourites.

Brahms

Every praiseful and complimentary petname he can think of, quite frankly: “angel”, “darling”, “sweetheart”, “pretty one”, “beautiful”, “princess/prince” - all those typical ones, but Brahms likes to invent petnames that call attention to parts of you, by referring to you as things like “pretty smile”, “pretty eyes”, “angel voice”. He may not have a lot of relationship experience, but there’s no end to Brahms’ creativity when it comes to complimenting you.

Art

Doesn’t speak, but signs petnames to you instead (and it’s never normal petnames either, he’s signing shit like “pet”, “button”, “eyeball”, etc), and has specific hand gestures that are reserved for you: crooking his finger to beckon you over in a certain way, blowing you a kiss, gesturing for you to twirl on the spot and then clapping his hands excitedly over how you cute/annoyed look.

Sun and Moon

Surprisingly, these two actually share the petnames they call you because they both feel the same way about you and regard you as such. To them, you are “lovely one”, “sweet one”, and they’ll call you their “favourite smile”, too. Sun and Moon are both inclined to call you “little one”, as well, because they are both very, very tall.

Marta

None of your typical petnames apply here. She’ll be calling you things like “righteous one”, “sweet righteousness”, “God’s pure one”, “righteous answer”, “sweet answer”, “divine answer” - Marta believes you are the answer to her life, the path she follows for God in eradicating all heretics and you are her reward, her divine and righteous answer, and she will refer to you as such. To Marta, it isn’t even poetic, it is simple truth.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Thomas Hewitt’s part now added!! ♡

[sweeetestcurse]

Andrew Bryniarski as Thomas Hewitt/Leatherface in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006) 04/??

[sawberries]

Lamb to the Slaughter

Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your group of friends find yourself stranded in a practically abandoned town in Texas. Luckily, there’s a large plantation style home just up the road, maybe the residents will be able to help the four of you out. Little do you know, Tommy’s taken a liking to you. (Words: 6,470)

Warnings: Major Character Death (Boyfriend and Friends are Killed), Minor Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gore, Blood, Mutilation, Canon Typical Violence, Cannibalism, Toxic Relationships, Brief Mention of Stockholm Syndrome, Body Horror/Skin Masks, 18+ NSFW Smut ft. Vaginal Fingering, PinV Sex

“Ugh, does it have to be so fucking hot?" Carly moans from beside you, the car seats have heated up to what feels like dangerous levels.

Lance looks at you from the drivers seat, an amused smile crosses his face as he shakes his head, only for you to see.

"Well, it is Texas." He chuckles, "In summer."

"I wanna go back to Wisconsin!" Jessica, from beside Carly in the backseat, whines as loud as she can.

"It's a road trip, you guys." You try to ration. "We'll be out of here in no time, we're just passing through."

Lance glances at you in barely concealed adoration, his hand sneaking over the center console to intertwine with yours. His thumb rubs little circles at the back of it. You haven't been this happy in a long time.

The two of you have had your ups and downs, but things have been going good for the past year. So good, you wonder if maybe he might propose. He's been acting a little secretive, like he's trying to surprise you with something. You dare to let yourself hope it's a ring.

"Hey, can we stop off at that little store? I need some water, stat." Carly asks, pointing up the road at a shabby looking store. It's a beacon of hope, nonetheless, for your parched little group.

Lance nods, turning into the small parking lot of the general store. His hand still gently caressing yours, passing heated glances with you.

Once parked, the two other girls hop out of the Jeep and pad their way along to the entrance of the general store. Lance looks at you conspiratorially now that you're alone. Jutting his chin in the direction of a secluded wooded area near the side of the store.

"Wanna get some alone time in?" He smirks and wiggles his eyebrows comically. You laugh and hop out of the car, sending a sultry look of affirmation his way. He's not far behind.

Lance's black hair looks silky in the hot sun as he leads you over to the little forest alcove. His hot palm kneading into your ass, little pangs of thrill shoot up your spine. He's not usually spontaneous like this and it's driving you wild.

"What's gotten into you, Lancelot?" You giggle at the nickname you've used for him for years. He presses you up against a tree, hands roaming over your hips and backside.

"You just look so good today…" He whispers into your hair, lips trailing down over your ear to your neck. His tongue lapping out and eliciting quiet moans from you as your own hands wander the expanse of his back.

Lances fingers make quick work of the buttons on your cotton, long sleeve, button up. He hurries to undo the front clasp of your bra, letting your breasts spill out for him to paw at.

You lean back against the tree, relaxing into his firm touch. Lance wasn't perfect at it, given you and him had been together since high school, but he was yours.

Just as he starts to suck a hickey into the top of your breast, you lean back and open your eyes only to find the largest man you've ever seen standing off to the side of the general store. His icy gaze is centered directly on you.

You gasp and push Lance away, he's about to ask what's wrong when he catches sight of the behemoth. "Holy fuck…" He whispers in terror.

The man's face is masked by what looks like a cow-hide muzzle. Only the top half of his face is visible, with just his bottom lip showing through the mouth-hole of the muzzle. His eyes dart down to your chest, widening in shock at the sight of your bare tits.

"Oh!" You exclaim, hiding behind Lance to button your bra and shirt back up. The man only then shifts his gaze away to stare down at his hands, which are littered with cuts along with his forearms. He's practically covered in dirt, as well as some sort of dried, rust-colored substance. Blood?

He's wearing an apron, looks like he came straight out of a slaughterhouse. Maybe he's a butcher.

"I'm so sorry, we didn't know anyone was back here!" You try to apologize, thinking maybe you've disturbed his workday by getting frisky behind his store. At the same time, Lance stands up straighter and casts a shrill look at the man.

"What the hell, man?" Lance looks at him suspiciously, still stood in front of you despite the fact that you're fully clothed. You look up at him in disbelief, you didn't think he was the sort of guy to get upset at a stranger like this. "What are you, stupid? Trying to get an eyeful of my girl?"

"Lance!" You cry out before turning to look at the man, who is now shaking his head 'no.' His fingers twitching, hands held above his belly. "I'm sorry about him, we'll get outta your hair."

The man can't rip his eyes off of you, hasn't since you saw him. You bow your head, grabbing Lance by the hand and pulling him away to the front of the store.

The man watches you leave.

Carly and Jessica are waiting for the two of you, Lance leans down so only you can hear him as the four of you head off towards the Jeep once more.

"Why'd you apologize? That guy was a freak." He mutters next to you, his hand pressed into your back starting to feel like a red hot brand. This wasn't how he usually was, the whole time you'd known him he'd always been compassionate. But then again, you don't think you've ever met someone like that man with Lance.

"What? It's not like he knew we were back there, he didn't do it on purpose." You try to reason. Lance isn't having any of it, there was something about that man that seems to have struck a chord with him.

"He was a creep."

"He's just a guy, Lance."

"What're you guys arguing about now?" Carly rolls her eyes. hopping into the back of the Jeep as Lance and you settle into the front. Jess shakes her head at Carly, a silent plea to leave it alone.

"It's nothing." Lance answers for you, you shoot him a half-hearted glare. Fiddling with the edge of your shirt, Lance starts to drive off.

It's already too late when Lance realizes just how low on gas the Jeep is. The car sputters out to a stop in the middle of a long stretch of deserted road. The only thing in sight is a large, white, plantation style home farther down the road. The only option is to get out and walk, see if maybe they have some spare gas. Not likely, with the state of the economy, and honestly, the state of this town.

A couple cars pass you along the way, and it's about thirty minutes walk to the house, maybe more. It's only just barely in sight.

"Why didn't we stop to get gas?" Carly complains, hand swiping off bead-lets of sweat from her forehead. Jess and Lance aren't far behind, with you leading the group noticeably farther ahead. Lance has been acting more irritable since the incident with the man at the store.

"Didn't think of it, I guess." Jess mutters, kicking a rock with the toe of her sneakers. You think you can hear Lance scoff under his breath, like somehow the blame isn't on him, the driver.

You try to put him out of your mind, watching as you approach the house, not long to go now. As you meander along, you can't help but think of the man at the store. His icy blue eyes piercing into you even from the recesses of your mind, his long black hair, greasy and sweaty, plastered to his forehead and neck. The thought of him towering over you, his eyes glued to your bare chest.

You feel a wave of guilt as your panties get a little sticky from the thought. There's an animal attraction there and you're not sure what to think of it. You're so stuck in your fantasy, you barely realize you've come up to the drive way of the house.

Lance pushes past you to trod up the porch stairs, banging his fist against the door. Carly chastises him for making so much noise, as the three of you join him on the porch.

A voice from inside the house calls out but its hard to hear, sounds like an older woman. The large wooden double doors swing open, leaving the screen door in between. An older woman stands before your group, her grey-blonde hair pulled up into a messy updo. She looks at you over her glasses, seemingly assessing you instead of your group as a whole.

"We're sorry to bother you, ma'am." You say softly, wilting under her scrutinizing gaze. You try to stay as polite as possible, hoping it'll get you into her good graces. "Our car ran outta gas a ways down the road, would you happen to have any to spare?"

She seems satisfied with whatever she was looking for in you because she smiles a gentle smile, stepping aside and opening the screen door.

"Well, I'd have to check, but why don't you kids come sit down while I look." She says as she ushers you in. Your group files in, meandering around the entryway as she shuts the doors behind you, not noticing as she locks the double doors.

She leads the four of you to a sitting room, where a man in a wheelchair sits watching TV. It's awkward as she gestures for you to take a seat on the seemingly ancient sofa. There's a faint stench of mildew and mothballs permeating the house, as well as a twinge of iron. It makes your mouth water in a strange, unexplainable way.

Almost smells like meat. You wonder if she's cooking.

"C'mere boy, why don't you help me look. It's a big can, won't be able to hold it m'self." She gestures for Lance to follow her. "The names Luda Mae, by the way, that there's Uncle Monty."

Monty doesn't even look your way as he raises a hand in greeting, half-heartedly.

"It's nice to meet you, Luda." You respond, giving your name in kind. You're the only one of your group to introduce themselves. Carly and Jessica are huddled up on the loveseat across from you, looking around in barely concealed disgust. Since when did all your friends turn into assholes? You didn't take them for the sort of people who looked down on others homes.

Neither of them can stop staring at Monty's missing legs either, it makes you ashamed to know them. The silence stretches on, only Carly and Jess whispering every once in a while breaks through. Footsteps begin to approach, you look up to find some sort of Sheriff stood in the doorway.

"Now, look-y what we have here." His grin is sleazy, and he narrows his eyes at Jess. Luda comes up behind him, Lance no where in sight.

"These poor souls ran outta gas." She explains, "I remember 'em from the store. Not this'n though."

You feel heat curling up your neck, shame sprawled through your chest. You didn't think you'd have to tell anyone about your little tryst outside the store.

"Oh, yeah. Lance and I went on a stroll while our friends went in." You lie, voice shaking just a tad. The Sheriff looks at you with a shit-eating smile, like he knows what really happened.

"Yes, I'd heard. My boy saw you out there." Luda says, making your face heat up even worse. The man out there was her son. You really wish a hole would just open up beneath your feet and gobble you right up, you'd never felt more embarrassed in your life.

"That was your son?" You mutter shyly, fingers fidgeting in your lap. Luda Mae seems to light up at your words, thinking maybe you've taken an interest in her boy. She comes forward to sit down next to you on the sofa. You get a glimpse of the Sheriffs name tag as he leans on the armrest of the loveseat your friends are sat at, starting up what sounds like an uncomfortable conversation with the girls. Hoyt. His name was Hoyt.

"Yes— my boy, Thomas. He's here now if you wanna see him." She smiles at you as she pats your shoulder, your head is turned to her in conversation and you don't see as Hoyt leads your friends out of the room. "He's real shy, bless his heart."

"Oh, that's okay—" You try to decline. Try to tell her you're taken, but she interrupts.

"I'll put on some tea; why don't you come into the kitchen with me?" Luda grabs you by the hand and pulls you out of the sitting room. As you cross the foyer once more, you catch a glimpse of a big shadow on the far wall past the stairs, but its gone in an instant.

As you enter the kitchen, Luda Mae sets you up at the head of the kitchen table before flitting off to get a kettle going on the stove.

"It's really okay, we should get going anyway. How's the gas coming?" You rush out, about to stand up when she gently coaxes you back down, patting your shoulder soothingly.

"Oh, it's alright. Hoyt had to go fetch it out of the back, your little friends are just helpin' him." Luda reassures you, smoothing a wrinkle out of your shirt. You try to listen to her but there's a creeping unease in the pit of your stomach, it only gets worse as the kettle whistles on the stove making you jump.

You watch in unsteady silence as she makes up some tea, pouring the both of you a cup. You're shifting uncomfortably in your seat when she sets the teacup down, handing you a little spoon so you can divvy up your own sugar. She settles down in the chair to your right, looking down at her cup with a strange expression. She almost looks sad.

"Y'know, I've waited a long time for my Tommy to find a good girl." Luda Mae looks up at you, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, watching you carefully. You let a weak smile cross your face.

"He's a handsome man, I'm sure he'll find a great girl." You say, hoping it'll keep her happy. Though, there's a truth to it, you did find him quite handsome. If a little intimidating, and yeah, maybe he could do with a good scrub, but he was handsome. You're sure whatever may be under that muzzle he wears can't be so bad. Her face lights up with hope.

"You're right, I think he's made a good decision." She says, and you're about to ask what she means when Hoyt returns. The hulking man from before, hovering just behind him, almost like he's trying to hide. Thomas wrings his hands together, avoiding you as you look at him.

"Well? What're you standin' there for, Tommy?" Hoyt guffaws, smacking Thomas on the back. The words he says next rattle you to the core:

"Get her before she runs away."

You stand up in shock, Thomas lurches forward for you. You squeal as you dodge him, ducking under his thick arms to make a run for the door. You think you can hear Luda Mae screaming encouragements to her boy but the blood pumping in your ears is too loud to make it out. Not that you really care about anything other than escaping at the moment.

You get to the entrance, trying to pull at the doorhandles but they only stiffly rattle as they stay shut. You yell out in anger, Thomas has you cornered. You turn to look up at him, he's much closer than before. A scream is lodged in your throat but it refuses to crawl out. His striking eyes have you pinned like a deer in headlights.

He lunges forward, scooping you up into his arms, holding you flat and tight to his chest. Legs dangling, but not loose enough to kick, and your head pressed into his shoulder. He stinks of sweat and dirt, and blood. It almost makes you gag. Little pleas reach his ears as you try to push at his chest, begging him to see reason.

"Why don't you stay for dinner, sweetheart?" Hoyt asks with a condescending smile.

You watch as Luda Mae and Hoyt disappear from sight as you're brought down the hallway, past the stairs and to a door. Thomas lurches it open as you look forward to see where it leads. The dirty, wet, ominous stairs leading to the basement does nothing for your nerves.

"Please, please, please…" You whisper into his shoulder, softly sobbing. He pats your back gently.

The stench that hits your nose is revolting, it's like being in the middle of a poorly run slaughter house.

You gag, looking around only to find Carly's body hoisted up onto a meat-hook. You cry out in despair, Jessica is right next to her, hanging. They're blood is dripping and pooling under their bodies; you try to thrash against him but it's no use.

"No! No!" You shake your head, closing your eyes tight but he only grunts in response. He takes you past a butchering table, there's a body on it but its hard to tell who it is. It's face has been peeled off its head. You sob and cry. It's clothes give it away, it's Lance.

Fat tears and ugly sobs wrack your body as you shove your face as far into the behemoths shoulder as possible.

He's lead you into a backroom of the basement, the stench doesn't permeate as deeply in here. He flops you down onto a mattress unceremoniously, the sheets are yellowed and streaked with blood in some places. You try to wiggle away but his grip on your legs has you rooted to the bed. He's tying them up, reaching for your arms afterward.

"Please, please, you don't have to do this." You try to reason once more, only to find a look in his eyes that says 'yes.' Yes, he does have to do it.

He leaves you there, tied to the bed and crying. He shuts the door with a gentleness that shouldn't be possible for a man capable of such violence. The last look he gives you is one of shame.

As Thomas leaves his girl on his bed, he wonders if maybe he's made the right decision. You had a boy, he saw it. But there was something about the way you spoke to him, the way you looked at him. He thought maybe you wanted him to be your boy instead. Maybe he was wrong.

There's a sizzling jealousy in him, one that permeates even as he looks at the butchered corpse of your boy on his table across the room. All Tommy has ever wanted was to have someone for himself, someone who was nice to him and let him hold them. It made him so jealous when he saw you with your boy.

He wanted that.

And when you spoke to him so kindly after… He wanted that with you.

He knows what he is, knows you could never love him like he loves you but he wants to try. Wants you to want him just the same.

He looks down at his hands, bloodstained and too thick to do any good. He's sewing a new mask, one out of that boys face. Hopefully, you'll like him a little better once he looks like him.

He hopes that you'll come to fall for him, as he's fallen for you.

That night, as you toss and turn for hours, rubbing your wrists raw on the rope as you try to break free, Thomas creeps back into the room. His room, you think.

His head is ducked down, out of sight, but there's something covering it. Another mask? It must cover his whole head. There's a mop of familiar silky black hair at the top of it. A pit forms in your stomach. It… Couldn't be. It couldn't.

He looks up and you know. It's skin. A mask made of someone's face. Lance's face.

Great, big, heaving sobs wrack your body as he shuffles closer. He's shy in his movements, approaching you slowly as your gentle cries reach his ears. Even as you sob, you remain still and quiet. You're such a good girl. He knows now that he made the right decision.

You look so little, huddled into the corner of his bed, arms pulled to where the knot is tied around his bed frame. There's butterflies in his stomach, fluttering around as your big eyes look up at him.

There's white hot terror flowing through your veins, you're stuck in place. Paralyzed in fear. He's wearing your boyfriends face. And he's getting closer.

You can see his icy eyes in place of Lance's warm ones; you wish he'd killed you like the others.

Thomas reaches a big paw out toward your face, caressing your cheek in a gentle but firm press. He thinks you look so beautiful and he's so excited to spend the rest of his life with you. He's never had a girl before, and he's glad he found you.

Tears spill over your cheeks and he wipes them away with his soft touch, leaning that horrid mask closer to you. It stinks like rot, like rusted iron in a pit of decaying compost. He touches the lips of the mask to your cheek. A faux kiss.

He lays a couple more faux kisses from your cheek down to your collarbone in a burning trail. You think you hear him whimper against you as his fingers hover just above the buttons of your shirt.

It strikes you with horror when you realize what he's doing. He's recreating the scene he interrupted with you and Lance.

"No, no…" You mutter, over and over, trying to cower further into the corner of the bed. He pulls away just for a second, seemingly worried, but he decides to continue anyways.

Maybe you just need to get used to him. Thomas knows how scary he is, but he needs you to know he'll never hurt you.

His shaking fingers fumble with the buttons on your cotton shirt, his breath leaving him in gusts. He's never been more nervous in his life. Not since he had to butcher someone for the first time. Though, even then he wasn't really nervous, just worried what might happen if someone found the family out.

As more of your lovely skin is revealed to him, he leaves little lingering kisses against it. This time with his own mouth and not the mouth of the mask, letting his tongue dart out inquisitively like he'd seen your boy do.

You're constrained hands are curled into his shirt, trying to both push him away and pull him closer. You're not sure what's come over you, maybe it's the shock, or perhaps Stockholm Syndrome has set in so soon, but you almost like the way his tongue feels trailing over your sweaty chest.

He starts to get nervous though, and pulls off of you. He looks away in shame. He can't seem to bring himself to continue, not with the way you're shaking under him.

Thomas looks down at you from behind the mask, your eyes laced with confusion and terror. He wants you to look at him with want, not like this.

He decides it would be best to try some other time. After you've calmed down a bit.

It's been weeks since you came to this house. Since you saw that dreaded skin-mask the behemoth wore. The one that used to be your boyfriend. It makes you sick every time you see it, you hope Thomas will realize this and stop wearing it but he seems to think you like him better that way.

He hasn't hurt you, hasn't even raised a finger at you. You keep waiting for it but it doesn't come. He doesn't even sleep on his bed anymore, having resided himself to passing out at the workbench across the tiny room.

You've gotten used to the space, given that the only time you're allowed out of it is during dinner. The walls are cracking and there's mildew on the ceiling, crude drawings litter the wall next to the bed, some of family members, others of animals. It almost looks like a child drew it, but you know better. He drew one of you.

You're looking at it now, as he sits at the workbench, sewing, repairing his old mask. The muzzle one. You wish he would put it on, but you don't say anything. Haven't said much the whole time you've been here. It's okay though, because he doesn't talk much either. In fact, you don't think you've ever heard him say a single word— only grunts ever leave his mouth.

He's untied your wrists and ankles, having realized they were cutting up your pretty skin. You're on a short leash now, a chain that's affixed to the bed frame. It's more demeaning but you couldn't care less, at least now you don't wake up with blue hands.

He comes down to feed you throughout the day, he's normally busy with chores or cutting people up in the other room, but he makes time to bring you breakfast and lunch since you're only allowed at the dining table during dinner.

You'd thought the eating people part would make you more upset, but after the first dinner, you had already gotten over it. It didn't seem nearly as upsetting after you'd seen your boyfriends faceless body, and your friends hanging from hooks.

It's after dinner now, when Thomas gets to spend the most time with you. He's got a couple books, they're young adult books. They look worn and used, he's probably read them over and over since he got them when he was little. Sometimes he hands one to you, hoping you'll read it to him. Sometimes you do.

You've seen him without the mask a few times now, albeit not on purpose. It happens sometimes when he's switching masks or getting ready for bed. It gets so dark when he turns off the rickety old lamp that he can sleep without his mask and you won't be able to see him.

His nose is almost completely gone, save for the top half of the bridge. His top lip is partially gone, turning upwards towards his nose. There's scars all around the area, and parts of it are red from irritation, or whatever skin disease he seems to have. Some of the scars look more purposeful than the others, like he's cut off chunks of the rot.

You don't think he knows that you've seen it already, and a part of you feels bad, but it wasn't something you did on purpose. You're not really sure why you feel bad about it in the first place. His gentleness seems to have softened you to him.

And gentle he is, even now, as he finishes up at the workbench. He switches his mask out for the leather one, turning away from you and hunching in on himself as he ties the strands quickly behind his head. He turns back to you, having picked up a book, holding it out for you.

You don't feel like reading tonight, so you shake your head in refusal. He's not upset, he sets the book down on the table. You're glad he's switched out his mask for what comes next.

Thomas sits at the edge of the bed and undoes his work boots, pulling off his crimson-stained apron. He crawls into the bed behind you, pulling you close into his plush chest. He still stunk but you'd gotten used to it, even started to find some sort of comfort in his soft belly and the smell of a hard days work.

His breath is heavy on your neck, his hands tracing your belly. This is when he's the most gentle, like he's afraid of breaking you. He lets himself have these little moments before he moves back to the workbench, moments where he gets to hold you and pretend you love him back. There's a part of you that thinks maybe you like this part just as much as he does.

You hate yourself for it, but you're growing closer to him everyday. Waiting for him to feed you, waiting for him to come get you for dinner, waiting for him to spend time with you before bed. All you did everyday now was wait for him to come back.

The first two weeks all you did was wait for it to be over, and now you're not sure whats changed.

Thomas trails his big, meaty finger down the side of your arm, tracing every little detail. His breath is hot and tickling you. There's a moment where you think of trying to pretend it's Lance but just the thought of that makes you upset. Lance never touched you this gently, and you're not sure why that makes you so mad.

How could Thomas be treating you softer than your boyfriend did? Just the thought makes you sick, so you try to push it from your mind; try to lose yourself in the moment. Let yourself like the way he touches you. And you do, you do like it.

His lips graze your collarbone as he leans closer to you, his chest pressing into yours as he shifts to hold himself above you. He's never gone this far before, but you can't bring yourself to fight. You think maybe you need it.

Thomas leans back to look you in the eyes, searching for permission. Your hand trails up his shoulder, over his neck, and tangling itself in his dark locks of hair. You nod slowly, hoping he'll continue to be gentle with you. He looks at you with love in his eyes, his forever-tense shoulders relaxing just the little bit. There's a tremor to his touch as he grazes his fingertips over your belly and up to your chest.

Thomas trails his featherlight touch over your breasts, moving to work open the buttons on your shirt the way he saw your boy do so long ago. His chest feels like its about ready to explode as he unclasps your bra, he's seen you before but this was all for him this time. All for him. He can't believe how lucky he is to have found such a nice girl.

His tongue darts out of the mask, but it can only get so far. He licks and licks at as much as he can get to, your whimpers gracing his ears like an angels song. He grows frustrated with the mask, pawing at the ties as he sits up to shut off the lamp on the bedside table.

Soon enough, the room is plunged in darkness and your heart is beating in your ears. He peels the rest of your clothes off your body, your shirt and bra discarded on the floor as he moves on to your pants. His fat fingers pull at the band of your jeans, dragging them down your legs until they're off completely.

You can hear his breath hitch when his hands find your lacy panties. He pinches the material in his fingertips, caressing it. He leans his head closer to your center, his heavy, labored breaths brushing your most sensitive parts. You can't stop the moan that he elicits when his tongue laps at your panties, a broad stripe up the slit of your cunt.

He grunts in satisfaction, you can hear him humping the mattress, still fully clothed. The sudden urge to feel him skin to skin is strong but his ministrations distract you for now.

Thomas pulls your panties down your legs, hot mouth darting to your cunt. You moan out as he starts licking at your folds, he's obviously inexperienced but his sheer excitement makes up for it. He quickly finds your swollen nub, sucking it between his lips in a pulsing rhythm.

His fingers play with your folds, trying to find the right way to touch you. You're pretty sounds turn him on, telling him where you like to be touched. He feels a heavy sense of honor, he's so happy you've decided to let him touch you.

He's been waiting to see that want in your eyes, and now when you'd looked up at him like you needed him, he was so glad to find it.

Thomas laps at your cunt with a fervor, slurping at it and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The tip of his finger finds your aching hole, pressing in gently. He's amazed at how little resistance he finds, he's so proud of you for taking it so well.

As he starts to pump his thick finger in your pussy, you can feel your orgasm fast approaching. He's grunting and huffing, sucking your clit as good as he can.

He knows when you go stiff, your back arches off the bed, and your voice goes high-pitched and breathy, that he's done a good job. Your release slicks his chin; there's a little ring of cream on his finger that he licks off the second it's out of your tight, clenching hole.

"Tommy…" You moan out, and he's surprised to hear it, you haven't spoken to him almost the whole time you've been down here. "Tommy, I need to feel you."

You're breathless and pawing at his shoulders as he sits up on his haunches, listening intently.

"Take your clothes off, baby." You're not sure where this is coming from, but you're far past caring. He grunts in affirmation, forever willing to be good for you.

Thomas tries his best to take his clothes off as fast as possible, wanting to be close again. He's so glad you want him too. He wonders if you love him just as much as he loves you. He hopes you do.

He's on you again, holding himself above you, and though you can't see him, you can clearly picture him in mind; his large frame and heaving chest.

You let your hands roam up his sides, feeling the pudgy muscle there. He's covered in hair, sweat rolling off him in beads. His belly is hot and pressed against yours, you can feel his leaking cock pressed against your thigh, the tip of it practically searing your skin.

The smell of sex is pungent in the air, and you can't imagine how it's going to be after he slips it in. If he can slip it in, that is. If you thought he was a behemoth before, then his cock is some sort of hulking monster.

Thomas sucks at your neck as his meaty hand paws at your right breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You spread your legs from beneath him, wrapping them around his wide hips and urging him forward with your heels.

He groans out in satisfaction as his dick nudges against your opening. You're leaking for each other and panting into each others open mouths.

His kiss is firm and wet, his tongue exploring yours. You can feel the way his top lip is scarred and turned upward, but it doesn't phase you. He feels like Tommy.

Thomas presses a kind hand into your abdomen, silently preparing you for his entrance into your slick heat. The tip of his cock is fat and slippery as it pushes into your snatch, there's more resistance than his fingers met but all that does is spur him on.

"Oh, yes!" You cry out as it enters you fully with a pop, it's a fine stretch and it sets a heat in your belly. He pushes forward, inch after inch, until he's seated to the hilt inside of you.

He's breathing heavily, breath fanning out over your face. You can feel the way his muscles tense as he tries to hold himself back from thrusting into you with abandon.

Your hand comes to rest against his cheek, and he seems taken aback by this, but he doesn't pull away. A soft whimper is pulled from his throat and it's rumbling and scratchy but it's him.

Thomas starts to thrust into you, pulling back and pushing in experimentally. He tries different paces, different strokes, until he settles on a rhythm that feels very good for the both of you. He adores the way you mewl for him and arch your back to press your chest against his.

It feels so good and he's worried he won't last long enough to feel you clamp down on his cock and lather it in your creamy spend. His hand crawls down between your bodies to rub at your clit, he wants to feel you spasm all over him before he comes.

With each thrust of his fat cock, and each flick of his fingers on your clit, you get pushed closer and closer to the edge. You're moaning and whispering praises for him, it starts to get so good you almost think you're about to die.

Your orgasm rips through you, his tip pressing against that spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars and you realize you wouldn't mind dying like this.

He starts to howl above you, pumping into you faster and faster as your cunt clenches down on him and soon enough he lurches forward, once, twice, and a final third time as his hot seed spurts out and paints your insides.

Thomas holds your head in his hands as the both of you cling to each other through the tremors of post-orgasm bliss. Your breaths mingle and you think maybe you might be falling for him. It's a strange thought but you find it's the truth. You're falling for him.

He holds you close, his heart thumping against your chest. Breathless coos leave you without your permission, and you're petting his hair, letting him kiss your cheek and your neck. You tell him how good he was, how good it felt, and for a second it feels like you're somewhere far away.

Somewhere, where the two of you are normal; normal and in love.

Somewhere away from all the blood and the gore and the killing. Somewhere that could be home.

Thomas feels it too.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and comments are appreciated :D Requests are open, just please be patient with me as writing tends to take me some time :)

[the-leftovers]

Kinktober day 7 - Cold

Reader x the Axe Man/Abner (the Conjuring)

Rating: 18+, minors dni

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,108

Notes: he’s soooo fine

This had to be by far the best wet dream you’d ever had..even if that wasn’t saying much.

…

It all started when your grandmother bought you an old mirror at the flea market, claiming it was so ornate and beautiful you just needed the damn thing in your room.

So there it sat, in the corner of your already packed room..

After a week or so shit started to go..weird.

Things around your room would be moved, small droplets of what looked like blood or candlewax littered the floor near said mirror. It was weird.

That was before the dreams started.

You’d wake up in a cold sweat, feeling a presence, snapping your head around your room to make sure you were truly alone. You always were..but there would always be a vivid chill in the room.

You’d snuggle up in your blankets, turning away from the mirror before sleeping once more.

A few nights later you awoke to a cold hand resting on your face, nearly burning your skin at how icy it felt.

A gasp fell from your lips, eyes snapping opened only to be greeted by a man..in overalls? He had long black hair, piercing eyes.

He loomed by the side of your bed, and glancing at the mirror you noted a worn axe resting beside it.

Your breath caught, looking back up at the man.

He grinned, his cold hand still touching your burning cheek.

You woke up. Eyes peeled open and staring straight up at the ceiling. You gazed at the mirror, floor bare. No signs of the man or his axe..or his handsome face.

A few days go by and, as suspected, no more axe man. You almost missed him, wondering if he was the spirit moving your things and leaving bloody trails in your room.

Not to mention the fact he was handsome as hell.

As you sat in front of your mirror, gazing into the worn glass..you almost wondered if he could see you then. Watching as you stripped of your clothes before a shower, watching as you touched yourself into the deep hours of the night.

Now that was an arousing thought..

So here you lay, in your bed in the dead of night, bare under your covers as you drift off to sleep. Hoping like hell you’ll be able to see that man again.

And just like that, a cold breath brushed against your neck, an icy cold body laying on top of your own.

A gasp fell from your lips, eyes flicking down to where a body was clearly outlined under the blankets.

He looked up, snarling his teeth, fully on display to your needy eyes. He had you pinned, hands on either sides of your body as he gazed down; almost like a predator looming over his prey.

Your face warmed tenfold, holding eye contact as he moved down, pressing kisses to your bare collarbone, down to your chest.

His lips felt like ice cubes being pressed into your skin, causing moans to fall from your lips. He took his time too, placing kiss after kiss to your burning skin, his tongue peaking out to lick stripes up your body, needing a taste.

He looked up through his dark hair, a smile on his lips as he growled, laughing quietly. He continued down, licking up your stomach, body perched between your legs.

That sight alone made you nearly lose it.

He didn’t waste a second, dipping his head down, tongue drawing a line up your dripping cunt. Another moan tumbling out of your lips. His hands were on your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh with a growl.

That cold, that insistence from this man.

He was fridged, nearly making you shudder as you placed a hand on his head. The contrast of his cold tongue, his noises. It made your head spin..

He pulled back after a moment, pulling you into him. He wanted to get you ready for him, wanted to make sure your arousal coated your fear. His hand stayed firmly planted on your thighs as he forcefully pulled you to the edge of the bed, cock already hard, standing at attention.

Another gasp fell from your lips, looking up at him, then down at his dick. Damn..he was strong too.

“F-fuck..” you muttered, watching as he lined up, gently and slowly sinking in. He didn’t waste a second pressing in, making sure you could feel every inch of his achingly hard dick.

Another loud moan on your end, the sound falling from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut, trying to get used to the cold, the way your body fluttered around him.

He picked up the pace, drilling into you hard and fast..growling above you as you took everything he gave.

His hands moved up, fondling your chest, icy fingers toying with your nipples, causing another strangled noise to fall from your lips. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get enough of how warm you were.

One hand moved farther up, resting on your neck. He gently squeezed, just wanting to hear your breath hitch, wanting to see your eyes widen the slightest bit.

You would not be holding on for long, that was for damn sure.

He could sense it too; how you gripped the bed, your noises of pure pleasure as your warm body took every inch of him.

He pounded deeper, drawing out slowly. Each thrust claiming and rough, claiming you ultimately as his. He growled above you, gnarled teeth on display as he built you up to orgasm-

You came so unexpectedly, crying out in pleasure as your head fell back. The gush of warmth had him doubling over, pulling out and finishing on your stomach with panting breath.

As your eyes shut, he moved you around in your bed, pulling the blankets back over your worn body. He gave your hair a gentle pat, before you drifted off to sleep.

He was very pleasant, considering he was the demon haunting your mirror…

..and when you awoke the next morning he was gone. Checking your stomach there was no cum, absolutely no trace of him..

That was until you looked into the mirror, spotting a few deep marks littering your skin. Hearing a dark laugh behind you, an ice cold breath on your neck.

You turned around quickly, absolutely nothing in the room but yourself.

Throughout your day you could feel eyes on you; gentle fingers pressing into your skin, kisses to your hair.

He was still there, watching over..

Maybe this mirror wasn’t that bad of a purchase after all..

…