Warnings: 18+!!! No Minors! Pregnant with an alien, slight mention of possible smut, pregnancy themes, Dek is aged up here
Summary: When you and Dek decide to have a child, the choice awakens something ancient and instinctive in him.
You choose the moment carefully.
Not after a hunt. Not after the council. Not in the heat of want.
You wait until the world is quiet, until the fire has burned low and the night wind moves silently through the stone archways of your shared home.
Dek sits across from you, sharpening one of his blades with slow, methodical strokes.
He looks up the moment you stare at him for too long.
“What weighs on you?” he asks.
“I want a child.” you admit with confidence.
The blade stills.
He does not speak at first.
In Yautja culture, children are not accidents of passion.
They are legacy. They are strength.
“You are certain,” he says quietly.
“Yes.”
He watches you carefully, searching for doubt. You offer him none. You have thought about this for cycles. You know what it means to carry something that is not fully human.
You know the risks.
Still, you want it.
You want him in every way a mate can.
Dek rises slowly and comes to stand before you. He does not touch you. He lowers his head until your foreheads nearly brush.
“You understand what this will demand of you,” he says.
“Yes.”
“And of me.”
“You would never fail us.”
He presses his forehead to yours, sealing the decision.
“Then we will try.”
From that night forward, something primal settles in him.
Yautja are not creatures of idle patience. They are decisive, instinctive. Once a goal is chosen, it is pursued with unwavering focus.
He does not leave you alone for long.
He becomes attentive in ways that make heat gather low in your stomach. The intimacy between you is deliberate, not hurried, not careless.
He handles you as though you are already precious beyond measure.
He stays close, his palm resting flat against your lower belly as if he can will life into being.
You tease him gently one evening.
“It does not happen in a single breath.”
He narrows his eyes slightly.
“I am aware.”
“You do not look aware.”
His mandibles twitch faintly, the closest thing to amusement. But he does not remove his hand from you.
The waiting begins.
He tracks your cycles with frightening precision. He monitors what you eat. He insists you sleep longer. He refuses to allow unnecessary strain. Even before there is any proof, he behaves as if you are already carrying something fragile.
You are not even pregnant yet.
Still, he keeps others away when you rest.
One afternoon, a hunter approaches your doorway to speak with Dek. Dek steps outside instead, blocking entry entirely.
“She rests,” he says flatly.
The hunter glances past him.
“She walks the training grounds daily.”
“She rests now.”
The message is clear.
Inside, you try not to laugh.
When you confront him about it, he does not apologise.
“You are not fragile, but if life begins within you, I will not risk it.”
“It may not even happen this cycle,” you remind him.
“It will,” he says, as if it is something he can command.
But cycles pass.
Nothing changes.
You remain patient. He does not.
At night, he grows quieter. More intense. His hand lingers on your stomach as if searching for something that is not there. Once, you wake to find him awake, staring at you.
“What troubles you?” you murmur sleepily.
He hesitates before answering.
“You are human.”
You understand immediately.
“You fear I cannot carry your child.”
“I fear the strain on your body,” he corrects, though it is the same thing.
You turn toward him fully and place your hand over his, where it rests on your belly.
“I am stronger than you think.”
His gaze softens slightly.
“I know.”
He leans down and presses his forehead to your abdomen, a gesture intimate and instinctive. He stays there longer than usual.
The next cycle, everything changes.
You notice it first. A heaviness. A fatigue deeper than usual. A strange warmth low in your body.
Dek notices the moment your routine changes.
“You are tired,” he observes sharply.
“Yes, more than usual.”
He does not wait.
He escorts you to the healer personally, remaining at your side like a silent guardian. The elder female studies you, listens to your pulse, and rests her palm against your stomach.
There is a long pause.
Then she nods.
“It has taken.”
Dek goes completely still.
For a heartbeat, you think he has not understood.
Then his hand tightens around yours.
“Certain?” he asks.
“Certain,” the healer replies. “Strong pulse. Strong development.”
His gaze drops to your belly as if he can see through skin and muscle. Awe flickers there. But it is quickly swallowed by something else.
Protection.
From that moment, the world narrows.
Only trusted females are permitted inside your home. Only the healer may examine you. No hunters cross the threshold.
He personally brings you food.
The finest portions from his hunts. Fresh water he filters himself. He watches you eat, as if nourishment is something sacred now.
When you protest that you can walk on your own, he allows it only within sight of him.
When you grow tired, he guides you back to rest.
You are not even visibly showing yet, but he behaves as though you carry the future of the clan inside you.
At night, he removes his armour earlier than usual and lies beside you, one large hand spanning your lower abdomen. His thumb traces slow patterns across your skin.
“You will tire more,” he tells you one evening.
“I know.”
“You will feel pain.”
“I know.”
His gaze lifts to yours. There is fear there now. Real and raw.
“I will not allow harm to come to you.”
“You cannot control everything,” you say gently.
“I can try.”
Weeks pass.
Your belly begins to round subtly.
He notices before you do.
“You are changing,” he says one morning, his hand resting against you.
“So are you,” you reply.
He studies your body with something approaching reverence.
Your skin seems warmer. Your cheeks are fuller. Your hair catches the light differently.
Yautja do not select mates based on beauty. Strength is valued. Compatibility. Endurance.
Yet pregnancy does something unexpected to you.
You glow.
Your smiles come more easily. Your laughter is softer. Your eyes are brighter.
He watches you move more slowly now, conserving energy, one hand often resting instinctively over your stomach.
“You are… radiant,” he says one evening, as if the word is foreign.
You laugh.
“Radiant?”
“Yes.”
You reach for his hand and place it against the curve of your growing belly.
“This is your doing.”
“No. This is yours.”
Your fatigue deepens as the months pass. Climbing steps requires pauses. Sleep comes heavily.
He adjusts without complaint. He lifts you when you are too tired to argue. He rearranges bedding for comfort. He replaces rough fabrics with the softest silks he can get.
He sleeps lightly now.
Often, you wake in the night to find him watching you.
“You should sleep,” you whisper once.
“I do.”
“You are awake.”
“I rest differently.”
His fingers trace your cheek, then drift down to your stomach. Always your stomach.
One night, as rain taps against the stone walls and the air smells clean and sharp, you feel it.
A flutter.
You inhale sharply.
Dek stiffens instantly.
“Pain?”
“No,” you breathe. You take his hand quickly and press it firmly against your belly. “Wait.”
He stills completely.
There.
A small, undeniable movement beneath his palm.
His eyes widen.
Again.
A move. A gentle push.
He makes a low sound in his chest that you have never heard before.
“It moves,” he says, voice barely audible.
“Yes.”
He lowers himself slowly until his forehead rests against your stomach. His hand spreads wide as if to shield what he feels.
“You are strong,” he murmurs, whether to you or the child you do not know.
Tears sting unexpectedly in your eyes.
He remains there for a long time, listening to movements he cannot hear but can feel. His thumb strokes your skin in slow, protective arcs.
In that moment, he is not the hunter who killed his father. Not the leader burdened by expectation.
He is simply a mate.
And soon, a father.
When he finally lifts his head, his eyes are different.
Softer.
Certain.
“I will protect you. Both of you. With everything I am.”
You cup his face gently.
“I know.”
Beneath his steady hand and watchful presence, something new grows.
Featuring a variety of Slashers and Killers with differing speaking patterns and verbal abilities
(x Reader too cause it’s me. Fluff.)
Jason Vorhees
Complete and total silence. Unlike others, you won’t even get the occasional huff out of this guy. Can he even breathe? Basically a corpse that you share a space with and get to cuddle.
Light on his feet too, evident by his infamous “teleporting”. You won’t know where he is until he’s in your eyesight. Please put a bell on him, cause he’s gonna sneak up on you 20 times a day and he feels really bad every time it makes you jump.
Does he use sign language? Yes! I don’t think it’s something that his Mother would have taught him, especially considering the time, but once you offer to help him learn he’s really enthusiastic to finally have a form of communication, he loves talking to you all day long. Watching you, knowing he’s being listened to, it gives him butterflies. Strikes me as kind of a yapper after a long day. You’ll also catch him signing to himself when he’s frustrated or anxious.
On top of that, also a good listener himself. He nods and gestures along to the things you say. Since he’s really comfortable around you, he’s able to express more of his emotions and it allows him to feel normal, even just for a little bit.
Michael Myers
Similar to Jason; You’re not hearing a single noise from him. His vocal cords could be missing for all you know. But you will hear lots of his eerie breathing. Whether it’s measured and calm or strained and staggering, those are the only noises you might hear before he’s suddenly in front of you.
And he actually lives for scaring you. Will press himself into your back when you least expect it and relish in your gasping. Loves to watch you from dark corners and see how long you take to figure out. Your guard is gonna be up for the rest of your life honestly.
Does he use sign language? No! He was taught it during his time in the asylum, so if you sign to him he’ll understand just fine. But he refuses to use it himself. His silence is a choice, it’s a way to isolate himself further into his role as The Shape. He honestly doesn’t care if you understand him or not, he doesn’t have anything he wants to say to you that he can’t say through actions.
When you’re yapping, you’ll get the occasional head tilt and if you’re really really lucky, a thumbs up or down. That’s all you’re ever gonna get from him. He might as well have fallen asleep honestly, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference under his mask.
Bubba Sawyer (Leatherface)
So while he doesn’t “talk”, he is most definitely not silent. This guy babbles like nobody’s business, he grunts and squeals, he goes around making all sorts of noises to himself when he’s in a real good mood. If he’s actually ever quiet for an extended period of time, that means he’s in desperate need of a hug honestly. A lot of his rambling does almost sound like words, but he can never quite fully get them out coherently. His tone is usually enough to let you know what he’s thinking though.
And while he can be decent at sneaking when he’s locked in, hunting someone down, that basically never applies to you or the rest of the family. Drayton constantly yells at him to stop parading around the house, his large frame is bumping into anything and everything. Plus he has a touch of echolalia, so any fun noises he happens to hear are being imitated ten times over. You can hear him coming from a mile away.
Does he use sign language? …he tries. Much like verbal communication, he tends to be really clumsy and struggles a lot with it. First of all, it’s gonna take a while for him to memorize even basic signs, although he does have a wonderful time learning from you. Secondly, once he does get them in his head, it doesn’t always translate well to his hands. His big fingers tend to get caught up in each other, his movements sometimes get too jittery and sloppy to properly show what he wants to say. It’s just not in his skill set.
That being said, he’s still so incredibly expressive. You’re able to tell his happy stimming from his nervous stimming, he makes a lot of “uh huh”s and “nuh-uh”s, not to mention the way his eyes sparkle through the mask. And every time you talk to him, the entire world fades away so he can focus on you, just because he finds you utterly fascinating.
(Sorry no Thomas Hewitt, haven’t seen the movie)
Vincent Sinclair
I imagine he’s on the slightly-more ‘realistic’ range of being silent. As in, completely quiet most of the time, but he still lets out little hums and sighs to let you know what he’s thinking. The very occasional airy laugh, sometimes a groan.
He’s either tip-toeing or stomping, no in between. When he’s in a good mood, usually while focused on his art, he has a way of dancing around the room gracefully, like he’s barely touching the floor. And when he’s not, you can definitely hear it, his feet hitting the ground hard as he paces. He doesn’t like sneaking up on you though, he gives you a lot of gentle touches to let you know he’s around.
Does he use sign language? Yes! I think it’s something his parents would’ve had him learn once it was apparent he was non-verbal. Unfortunately, Bo purposefully avoided learning any and Lester only knows a little, so he used it less and less after their passing and he isolated himself into his work. Once you come along, however, and he figures out you know sign he falls right back into it. He’s a bit brief and minimal with what he chooses to say, but very poetic and careful with his words.
He also likes to leave you a lot of handwritten notes, usually accompanied by little doodles and sketches. Mostly of you, telling you how pretty you looked while you slept or how wonderfully that shirt you wore complimented your complexion. Every now and then, you’ll find smiley faces and hearts randomly drawn onto your hands and arms. He never fails to let you know he’s thinking of you.
Billy Lenz
Honestly he almost didn’t make this list, because he’s anything but silent. Majored in blabbering with a minor in being a siren. His lips basically never stop moving, he likes to loom over you and narrate everything in his own filthy language. When he does get quiet, it’s eerie, it means something is wrong and you should probably be very worried. But otherwise you’re getting front row seats to every single thought that’s being passed through his head, no matter how dirty or senseless or repetitive.
Despite this, he is very quiet as he moves around and he lives for scaring the shit outta you. He’ll bite his own tongue until it’s bleeding just so you don’t hear him as he lurches up behind you, giddy at your cluelessness. He delights in hearing you scream for him in lots of ways. Despite some sporadic hand gestures, I think he’s learned to be very careful and tentative with his movements. Can’t be caught making a racket in the attic, after all.
Does he use sign language? Doesn’t need to. He’s hyperverbal, if anything. However it would probably be useful for him to have a way to talk to you when he’s lost in a panic and only repeating the same four words over and over, eyes glazed over and holding onto you for dear life. But don’t bother bringing that up, he’ll become very offended. If he was put into an asylum or psyche ward at any point, he definitely got one of the other patients to teach him all the of cuss words and naughty things to say in sign. He uses those quite liberally, actually.
And echolalia to the max. You yelped while stubbing your toe once, and three days later he’s still repeating that same noise at every opportunity. Whenever you ask him a question, it’s likely his answer is gonna directly copy something you’ve said before. This guy loves being a parrot. Any sound he finds remotely interesting is going into his index of ‘noises to make whenever I damn please’. This is especially apparent while watching movies with him, he copies all the sound effects, but especially gunshots and shattered glass. And screams, he loves any and all screaming, actually. This is cute and all until you’re trying to go to sleep and he just…doesn’t turn it off.
Brahms Heelshire
So he definitely can talk…but most of the time he doesn’t care too. Unless speaking will directly benefit him, he prefers to be quiet and observant. It’s a habit he got from living in the walls and his existence being ignored most of his life. So a lot of staring at you, all the physical affection you could ask for, only a few necessary words exchanged. He does enjoy listening to you speak, though, adores the sound of your voice.
Just like Lenz, all his movements are cautious and mindful, unless he’s absolutely pissed about something. And while you don’t get the feeling he’s purposely trying to scare you, he does find it pretty cute to see you jump in his presence. He’ll mutter a small “sorry” while wrapping his arms around you, as though he doesn’t have a massive grin under his mask. He also has a thousand secret passages and pathways around his massive house and many, many ways of spying on you. Basically, you’ll go hours without seeing him and being absolutely oblivious to his whereabouts while he’s been following and watching you through the walls like ‘wow, we’re bonding :)’
Does he use sign language? Nope. Even if he was a bit of a quiet kid, it wasn’t enough to justify his parents having it taught to him. And they certainly weren’t going to bother after the fire. He’s reclusive, but his struggles with communication are more of a social issue than a verbal one. He probably knows other languages though, something dumb and fancy like Latin. Or maybe French.
When Brahms does talk to you, there’s two versions of what you can get. Most of the time, he’s going to be putting on a boyish persona, pitching up his voice, using posh and proper language, trying to come off as endearing as possible. He thinks being cutesy will win you over, basically. But every now and then, you’ll see a glimpse of the man he pretends not to be. Vigorous grunts of anger, the deep voice rumbling in his chest, little groans and huffs as he nuzzles into you. He never likes thinking about how old he actually is, but being so comfortable with you has him putting away the youthful act.
Author’s Note: No seriously. I got carried away. Didn’t intend to write for this many slashers but the thoughts kept coming. If you all want a part 2, let me know!
Characters: Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Rufus “RJ” Firefly Jr., Baby Firefly, Otis B. Driftwood, Captain Spaulding, Pinhead, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Art the Clown, Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, Ash Williams (I know he’s not a slasher, shush), Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire, Mitch/The Ghost, The Driller Killer (for more slashers check pt. 2: here )
Warnings/tags: Realistic takes on the body odor & hygiene of various horror characters, mention of sex on Freddy’s part (and alluded to in Otis’s part), gender neutral reader, not beta read
Word count: 1.7k
Jason Voorhees
Jason smells bad. Like really bad. He smells like mud, mildew, blood, and a rotting corpse that’s been soaking in lake water. It takes a long time to be in such close proximity to him. Personal hygiene isn’t his strong suit at all. But once you come along he’ll definitely try. His clothes can be changed and washed but Jason’s body stinks in a way that a shower and soap simply can’t fix (at least not fully). It’s possible to get the smell toned down to somewhat tolerable levels. But realistically I think he’ll always have a bit of a smell to him.
Bo Sinclair
Bo, for the most part, smells fine. He takes regular showers, washes his hair with a generic shampoo, brushes his teeth, etc. When he hasn’t been working, he’ll smell like cheap cologne and whatever scented soap you keep in the shower. But if he’s been working at the mechanic shop he’ll come home smelling like sweat, oil, and gasoline (and blood if he’s killed someone that day). There’s also always a faint smell of cigarettes. The smell seems to have seeped into his clothes permanently after many years of smoking. You don’t have to coax him to shower, he heads there without a fight. After a long day, a shower can make him feel better anyway.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn’t smell too bad but he doesn’t always smell great. He often smells like beeswax, which isn’t a bad smell. But he can get quite sweaty as well and doesn’t shower as frequently as Bo. So it’s not the best smell combo. I mean, he’s constantly working in a hot basement/workshop…in a sweater…in a mask…with long hair……in Louisiana. Yeah, sweating is a common occurrence. He’ll probably increase his amount of showers for you. He gets so caught up in sculpting that he forgets sometimes though.
Lester Sinclair
Lester is the worst Sinclair brother when it comes to smell and hygiene. When you first meet him smells like roadkill, sweat, and dirt. His hygiene isn’t great. He doesn’t shower often, nor brush his teeth often. But when you come along he definitely starts caring about his hygiene more. He’ll take showers and brush his teeth. Maybe he’ll wash his clothes more…maybe.
Rufus “RJ” Firefly Jr.
Rufus smells fine for the most part. He showers regularly and uses deodorant. By the end of the day though he might have a slight musky smell to him but nothing too bad usually. Sometimes he would stink after working on cars all day in the Texas heat. He’d come home smelling like sweat and oil and you might have to ask him to take a shower. Occasionally he’d have a faint smell of beer or whatever alcohol was lying around on his clothes.
Baby Firefly
Baby takes frequent showers and bubble baths (when she’s not on the run with the family). She likes soap with a fruity scent, often opting for something that smells of berries. Sometimes she’d smell like blood but usually, she’d smell rather good. She has a variety of different perfumes snagged from the luggage of different victims. Just like her soap, she often goes for things with more of a fruit scent.
Otis B. Driftwood
Otis doesn’t smell good often. In fact, a lot of the time he smells straight-up bad. Like corpses, blood, alcohol, and tobacco. Otis does take showers though so the smell is temporary. He doesn’t take them often though and sometimes you’ll have to ask him (or mildly threaten him) to shower. If he’s being stubborn and you really, really want him to shower then you can coax him by getting in the shower and asking him to join you. He’ll never say no to that offer.
Captain Spaulding
Captain Spaulding smells okay usually. He’s not the best smelling out of the Firefly family but he’s not that bad. He often smells like fried chicken from making it so often at his shop. There are some faint hints of alcohol, blood, and maybe even cigarettes. His dental hygiene isn’t great but he does take somewhat regular showers.
Pinhead
Pinhead smells like blood, leather, and metal. It’s not an overbearing smell like some of the other slashers but it’s there. You can smell it when you hug him close. I don’t think he gets very sweaty. Honestly, do Cenobites even sweat? He doesn’t shower, doesn’t brush his teeth. Hell, he barely even removes the leather he wears. He’s not human and he doesn’t care about human concepts of hygiene.
Hannibal Lecter
Hannibal smells really, really good. He takes regular showers, wears deodorant, and brushes his teeth twice a day. He sometimes splurges on more expensive shampoos, soap, and cologne. He goes for colognes with woody scents. Sometimes there’s a small hint of vanilla thrown in. A majority of the time he smells really fresh. He doesn’t often smell like blood because he takes the cleanup process very seriously. Occasionally the smell of whatever he’s been cooking might linger on his clothes.
Will Graham
Will also smells good for the most part. He often smells like the outdoors and cheap cologne. He obviously has a big sweating problem so that can make him not smell as great. But he takes regular showers, especially when he’s been sweating a lot. He likes to smell good but he doesn’t give it much thought.
Bubba Sawyer
Bubba often smells like sweat, meat, and a heavy dose of decomposing bodies. Showers are infrequent but not nonexistent. When he does shower he smells fine but that smell can quickly disappear in the Texas heat, especially if the Sawyers are dealing with unwanted visitors. He doesn’t really notice the smell unless it’s pointed out and he’ll shower and change clothes if needed.
Thomas Hewitt
Much like Bubba, there’s often a smell of sweat, meat, and blood. In fact, those smells are stronger on Thomas compared to Bubba. He’s a rather musky guy. He doesn’t shower frequently. It’s a rare occurrence. But when you’re in the picture he might do a little better hygiene-wise, especially after a heavy dose of scolding from Luda Mae. And he’ll smell better (probably never great though).
Art the Clown
Oh, don’t get me started. Probably one of the worst-smelling slashers out of the bunch. Art smells like shit. Literally. And blood. And not just a little blood. The smell can be so strong sometimes that you swear you can taste iron on your tongue. Sometimes he’ll have faint scents of gunpowder and oil but those smells are often overpowered by others. Surprisingly though, Art isn’t that opposed to showers. He does the absolute bare minimum though, just standing in the water and rinsing off the remnants of his victims. He doesn’t mind getting all of that off of him but he’s not doing it to smell better. If anything, he likes the smell.
Michael Myers
He smells bad. Whether we’re talking about the OG or the RZ version, I can’t imagine this man smelling good when you first come across him. He smells like a corpse. It overpowers any other smell there could be on him. He doesn’t shower, he’ll wear the same coveralls for years if they last him that long. Hygiene is the last of his priorities and he’s not easily convinced at all to bathe or wash his clothes. Maybe (and that’s a very strong MAYBE) you could entice him to do something about the smell. It’ll definitely be a trade-off. He won’t give in easily.
Freddy Krueger
Freddy doesn’t smell great. He smells like ash and burnt skin. He almost smells like a campfire but with the added smell of blood and death. The smell is always there. It’s kind of permanent. And no, he won’t be showering. Don’t even suggest it because he’ll laugh in your face. It’s not that he’s against it, he just doesn’t want to nor does he feel the need to. The only way he’ll get in the shower is to have shower sex and that’s it.
Ash Williams
Ash smells good 90% of the time. He smells like pine shampoo, aftershave, and whatever cologne he wears. It’s not expensive but it smells nice. The other 10% of the time (when he’s hacking away at deadites), he smells like a mixture of gasoline, oil, blood, and whatever hellish smells come out of deadites. It’s not great and he’s aware of it. The last thing he wants is to be covered in brains but it’s just another day in his life. He honestly can’t wait to shower it all off.
Brahms Heelshire
Upon first meeting him, Brahms didn’t smell good. He smelled like a combination of sweat, dust, mothballs, and mildew. A direct result of constantly staying in the walls and lack of showering. If the smell bothers you though, Brahms is more willing to bathe than most slashers. He can be stubborn sometimes but he rarely puts up a fight.
Billy Lenz
Much like Brahms, Billy has a strong odor of dust, mothballs, and whatever other lingering smells are in an attic. Old boxed-up books, cardboard, mildew, the faintest smell of cologne (not sure if it’s his or it's just rubbed off from some clothes in the attic). The smells have stuck to his clothes and he doesn’t wash that sweater. He won’t put up a fight if the smell bothers you though. He’ll happily take a shower for you.
Mitch/The Ghost
Mitch smells fine…usually. He showers regularly, wears deodorant, etc. He usually smells of whatever soap is in the shower. The only time that he ever really smells bad is after long nights of running the Haunt in October. On those nights he’ll smell strongly of blood, corpses, and whatever acid they use to dispose of all the unlucky haunt visitors. Other than that, he smells fine the rest of the year.
The Driller Killer
The Driller Killer smells like cigarettes, leather, and blood. He smokes often. It’s not like he’s going to get sick from them (not 100% he can even die). Sometimes when you hug him, you swear you can smell the faint scent of a woody cologne. Or maybe it’s his hair gel. You’re not fully sure. But there’s definitely something there.
Jason Voorhees x reader, Bo Sinclair x reader, Vincent Sinclair x reader, Lester Sinclair x reader, Rz!Michael Myers x reader, Thomas Hewitt x reader
contains— random asf, these are all just based on how i feel, there's SFW and NSFW <3
requests— always opennnn, so far I've just been writing to write LOL
author’s note— ive been getting lots of love on a lot of my posts and it makes me SOOOOOO happy <3 sorry that its taken me SOOOOO long to post... (its been 2 years...) im gonna try and write more consistently!
word count— 1,621 words 8,569 characters
gifs aren't mine!
reblogs, comments and feedback is always appreciated <3
Jason Voorhees:
SFW:
Tracks mud all over your house on rainy nights
This big man loves to be babied by you. He loves when you talk to him with such a nurturing and caring voice
Has horrible jealousy issues
Has soft spots for kids
He really wants to have a kid with you, so he can treat the kid with so much love and respect
He’s so loyal to you, if you want him to kill anyone… he’ll literally do it in a heartbeat
Carved yours and his initials on a tree in camp crystal lake
leaves letters around the house for you to find with sappy things written in them
an actual gentle giant
bear hugs you from behind when you cook. he’ll wrap his arms around you and sway yours and his figure side to side.
he smells like pine like 90% of the time
NSFW:
he loves fucking you while you choke him idc. he’d start off with long, deep, strokes that stretch you so good. if you grab his neck while he does so, he pounds you even harder, and his groans slowly turn into slight whimpers
sucks at pulling out, he loves watching his cum drip out of you. With two fingers he’ll shove the cum back into your quivering hole just to see you push it out again ☺️
the mask stays on during sex, idc i don’t make the rules
loves cock worshipping. kiss along his length and lick along it too. loves fucking your throat and making you say you love it with a mouthful of his cock.
loves receiving head so much, it’s literally so slutty.
will actually fold you in half to get better angles.
Bo Sinclair:
SFW:
Loves feeling like you can depend on him. He loves the thought of being your little provider (it’s the blue collar in him)
Totally massages your feet LOL idk why. He gives you straight up princess treatment
Dude deadass acts like a dog, howls when he’s like really happy 😭
if you massage his scalp he’ll actually fall in love with you, and shudder at your touch
he’s such a simp for you in private idc what anyone says
he picks flowers for you all the time 🥺 and leaves them at your bedside for when you wake up
asks you to do his eyebrows from time to time
He loves thinking of you as his little wife. refers to you as his wife to visitors. DONT MAKE FUN OF HIM FOR THAT, he'll get sooooo embarassed lol
makes you a mixtape filled with all the numetal he listens to
has band shirts in his drawer that he throws to you after doing some actvities with each other (if you catch my drift)
NSFW:
literally a horny bastard
Is so rough and passionate
loves to fuck you in his shop and loves to fuck you over the hood of cars
actually loves to pound into your weeping hole till you scream your safe word (its "cherry pie")
doesn't moan, only growls. he's so animalistic once you guys get to fucking
Vincent Sinclair:
SFW:
he draws you all the time, you're his muse!
loves to do little art projects with you as dates
let's you braid his hair and brush out the tangles
He loves it when you paint his nails with your nail polish. Loves it even more if you guys match.
takes photos of you all the time. hangs them up all around the basement
is a simp in private and is a simp in public, you NEVER have to worry about that when you're with him.
loves taking baths with you and legit MELTS into your touch if you coddle him, baby him etc.
NSFW:
noisiest silent man you'll ever meet.
whimpers so much
loves to worship your body, thinks of you as a goddess.
he loves to pepper kisses all over your body and loves to eat your pussy while you hover over him, demandingly.
loves to be overstimulated and loves wax play.
pour wax on his chest as he lays down, eating your pussy as you sit on his face.
fucks like an absolute jack rabbit. he can go pretty fast when he's chasing his high.
Lester Sinclair:
SFW:
The biggest sweetheart
Picks flowers for you and will leave them at your bedside.
He steals lots of female visitor's items, so you quite literally always have new clothes, perfume, makeup etc.
He brings home weird animals and cooks weird things, but you love him too much to deny him.
Is super shy when it comes to affection and stuff like that. You mostly have to initiate a lot of the contact, but his goofy smile and flustered face make up for it.
Secretly wants to have twins, but actually treat those twins with love and care.
Daydreams about you and is super loyal to you.
If Bo makes a comment about you, whether good or bad, Lester will pick a fight with him and tell him not to talk about his woman.
Will ask Vincent to make a portrait of you and him to give you for V-day.
NSFW:
tease him too much and he'll actually cry
he wants to breed you so bad to the point where it's all he can daydream about sometimes.
jerks off when he's alone, whimpering your name.
This boy is a bottom feeder and will beg to eat you out at least once a day
He loves car sex and loves road head.
He will take you on various trips JUST to get some road head and maybe park in the forest so he can shoot his load into you a couple times before you guys' head back :3
RZ!Michael Myers:
SFW:
very silent and ominous man
looms over everything you do
if you cook a meal for the two of you, he will just stand beside you and watch what you're doing 100% of the time
makes papier mâché masks 25/8
makes masks for you as well with your favorite things on it (ex. if you like sanrio characters, he'll make a mask with your fave characters on it :3)
the first few nights he stays with you, you basically have to bathe with him lmao
he smells earthy like dirt and husky pheromones
holds you close to him when you guys shower together
secretly puts kitchen items and closet items on higher shelves so that you come running to him to grab it for you
NSFW:
this man has the absolute stamina of the gods
this man is the king of shower sex
loves to carry you up against the wall as if you weigh nothing and plow into your hole(s)
sometimes having you against the wall isn't enough and he'll just pound you down onto him length and use you as his personal pocket pussy
he is always dominant (sorry not sorry)
he also loves to play a hide and seek game in the woods with you. he'll chase you throughout the woods and if you're able to outrun him or be able to hide without him finding you or tracking you, you can dom him and do whatever you want with him :3 but so far he's always been able to catch up to you and find you before you can think you even have a chance.
his prize for winning that little game is a hard and rough forest sex
but if you were to win (which probably wouldnt happen) he'd def tone down his strength.
he'd let you pin him down and he'll play along with you
but once he's tired, best believe he'll stop giving into you and take you for himself
Thomas Hewitt:
SFW:
the way y'all meet is kinda funny lol
Luda saw you and thought: "wow they're perfect for my tommy" and somehow convinced you to stay for dinner
at first you were terrified of tommy
he was a big burly man with a mask on his face
he was wayyyy too nervy to even look your way when you first came about
luda explained that she wanted grandbabies, and you could see Thomas' eyes dart towards Luda, obviously this wasn't planned at all
but after a few nights with the Hewitts... you kinda liked having teatime with Luda and watching Tommy do yard work from the living room windows.
Tommy was scary but was oh so respectful towards you.
sometimes when he's out doing yard work for the house, you'll walk out in some short shorts and a tank due to the scorching heat and give him a tall glass of lemonade. which he'll take graciously and chug that thang in front of you
Something so simple like that makes his heart pound
luda will ask you to make dinner one night and tommy falls in LOVEEE with how you cook.
his dream is to be a loyal working husband for you
children are definitely on the table for him but i think its more of a breeding kink for him/seeing you all plump and pregnant by him.
NSFW:
For a long time, you and Tommy couldn't really do much due to the waiting before marriage beliefs that were instilled into him
he hates the thought of disappointing Luda so its probably gonna take some convincing to get this man to be bad with ya
once you succeed... this man gets pussy drunk soooooo easilyyyy
tommy's weight crushing you + him pounding into you over and over again through your orgasm...
he doesn't even hear your begs to stop
he's so engrossed in the feeling of you squeezing him, the feeling of your tits in his hands, he fucks you raw, like a sex crazed, hungry man
his favorite place to fuck you is in the barn
he'll bring a pretty soft blanket for you to lay on and maybe even a pillow, just so that you wont dirty your pretty gingham yellow dress this is his favorite look on you, no i will not be explaining lol
he's very silent when he's deep in it
he's more of a heavy breather and its amplified because of his mask
Slashers seeing their s/o in a self-made p☆rn (Pt.1)
Characters include:
Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers,
———————————————————————————
✨im back✨
this is not edited whatsoever
TW: NSFW, descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation, voyeurism, Micheal being Micheal
Jason Voorhees:
Oh boy
His view on sex is so skewed from his childhood, finding out you recorded a video of yourself in any way sexual has him so deeply confused
Honestly, he probably found it on your phone searching for something completely innocent in your camera roll
You only made the one video (he looked for others)
He takes your phone into the woods and privately watches the entire video
He's wounded at first - why would you do something like this? You seemed so innocent, nothing like the type of person he pictured would make this content
He starts to blush when your body straddles a pillow within frame of your poorly propped up phone
The sounds you make while humping the pillow has his free hand clenching tight at his side
He's careful with the volume, holding the phone close to his ear to listen to your whimpers then pulling the device down and rewinding so he can watch the video with the noises still fresh in his mind
Poor guy is so hard by the time the video is done
It would be wrong to touch himself to a dirty video of you, so he resists the heat between his legs and returns your phone, trying his best to play it cool like he didn't just watch you hump a pillow until you orgasmed
He won't mention it at all
Sometimes, he might make up an excuse to borrow your phone to watch it every now and then
Thomas Hewitt:
Similarly to Jason, his view on sex is skewed from childhood
He was taught that sex should be private and sacred and only after marriage
But masturbation? He's more confused about where that stands
Again, he would probably stumble across the video by accident
You left your phone open on your bed while you went to take a shower and he got curious
As soon as he realizes what the video is, he's hurrying to the basement as quick but non-suspiciously as possible
He locks the basement door- not that anyone, yourself included, goes down here often. It's just in case...
He sits down in a creaky wooden chair and pulls out your phone
Still unlocked, he finds the video again
He's exhilarated and oh so nervous as he watches your legs spread and your hands wander
He gets so hard at the sight of you so open and relaxed, touching yourself
Your first loud moan startles him, rushing to turn down the volume only he could hear
He knows it's wrong to touch himself to a video of you, but- oh god- you make it so difficult for him
He can't help it. He caves three minutes and seventeen seconds in when your legs shake and you make a sound that sends him over the edge
By the time he's finished, he's committed the entire video to memory from how much he has rewatched it to be able to finish in his own hand
He will return your phone to the spot on the bed he found it before your shower is done
He finds out your passcode later by looking over your shoulder, filing the information away so he can watch the video anytime he gets the opportunity
Michael Myers:
This guy steals your phone on the regular
It goes missing for days at a time, and you know it's him who takes it, though you can never get him to own up to it (or find where he hides it)
When he's snooping through your phone, he comes across a certain video of you getting intimate with a toy
He watches the entire thing (on repeat)
He doesn't care if your right in front of him, or sitting beside him, or out of the house- he's watching the entire thing shamelessly
Head tilts at the sounds you make
He turns the volume to max so he can hear every hitched breath and soft noise you make
He goes through your stuff, finding that particular toy (if you still have it) or something similar to it
He will bend you over into the same position as the video and use what he found to fuck you until your a mess with the video playing in front of you
Call it his way of getting back at you for using the toy and not him ;p
How the slashers would react to sleeping in the same bed as you for the first time .° ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁
includes : Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair & Lester Sinclair!
with GN reader, no smt, no implication of anything like that, just fluff n comfort!! ☁︎
A/N : First time writing this type of fic/post, so please be kind and english is not my first language, so if there are any mistake, I do apologies!
Jason Voorhees
➛ Sleeping in the same bed as Jason is something that happens without discussion. There’s no suggestion and no awkward buildup.
➛ Night falls, you’re tired, the cabin only has one bed, and Jason simply stands there waiting to see what you’ll do. He doesn’t look at the bed, he looks at you.
➛ When you lie down, he stays standing for a long moment, mask tilted slightly like he’s listening to something you can’t hear.
➛ Only after the room is completely quiet does he sit, the mattress dipping under his weight. He doesn’t rush, Jason never rushes when it comes to things that matter.
➛ He lies down fully clothed, positioning himself between you and the rest of the room without saying a word. It’s instinctive, protective in a way that feels ancient, like this is how he’s always slept when someone mattered enough to guard.
➛ He doesn’t touch you, not because he’s hesitant, but because he’s controlled.
➛ Jason is very aware of his strength, so he keeps his hands folded near his chest, still as stone, even when you shift in your sleep and end up closer to him than you meant to.
➛ He allows it, that’s the difference.
➛ The room feels different with him there. Quieter, heavier and safer, even if that doesn’t make sense since he kind of off's people but still, that's how you feel.
➛ You fall asleep faster than you expect to, giving you barely any time time to act like a teenager sleeping with a boy for the first time since you’re already deep asleep after a few minutes.
➛ Jason doesn’t really sleep at first, not that he really needs to anyway.
➛ He listens. Every creak of the cabin, every change in your breathing, every sound outside…
➛ When you move, he tenses, ready. Ready for what? He doesn’t know but still, he is ready.
➛ When you settle again, he relaxes just enough to stop listening for every sound around the both of you for a second.
➛ At some point during the night, you roll too close, your shoulder pressing into his side.
➛ He stiffens for half a second, then slowly exhales. He adjusts just enough to give you space without pushing you away, one arm bending slightly so you’re tucked closer to his chest.
➛ It’s not affectionate in the traditional sense, it’s containment, as if he’s making sure you stay exactly where he can protect you.
➛ If you wake up in the middle of the night, you’ll find his head tilted down toward you, mask close enough that you can feel his breath through it. He doesn’t move when he realizes you’re awake, he just stays there, watching, until you settle again. Only then does he relax.
➛ Jason sleeps in intervals. Short, light rests broken by long stretches of awareness.
➛ When he does drift off, it’s with his body angled toward you, one knee bent, blocking you in without trapping you. You’re not restrained, you’re shielded.
➛ In the morning, he’s already awake. He moves away before you can really process how close he was, standing and turning his back like nothing happened.
➛ The next night, when you hesitate by the bed, he waits. When you lie down again, he takes the same position as the night before without question.
➛ Sleeping in the same bed with Jason isn’t tender or romantic on the surface. Yet once it starts, it becomes routine in the way only lovers do.
Brahms Heelshire
➛ Sleeping in the same bed as Brahms is something that happens slowly, over time, even if you don’t realize it at first.
➛ It starts with him sitting at the edge of the bed while you lie down, watching you carefully like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he looks away.
➛ He doesn’t like the idea of being too far from you, even at night.
➛ He says it’s because the house gets loud and he also says it’s because he sleeps better when he knows you’re there, by that he means seeing you there.
➛ He doesn’t say what he’s really afraid of tho.
➛ The first time you actually share the bed is after you’ve kind of had it of him hovering over you while you sleep.
➛ It’s really easy to get him in the bed with you, you barely finish the sentence that he’s already under the covers.
➛ You suspect him of having already gone in your bed while you slept but you just can’t prove it.
➛ It’s how he acts once he’s in it that’s more…interesting.
➛ Because if he really did go in your bed with you before, you were sleeping and unaware of it. But right now? You’re awake and very aware of him which seems to make him fidgety.
➛ He fidgets, adjusts the blankets over and over again, glancing at you like he’s waiting for permission, even if he doesn’t ask for it out loud.
➛ You can tell he wants to be close but doesn’t know how much is too much. He’s learned that touching people too much can make them leave thanks to his past nannies.
➛ When he finally lies down, he stays on his side, facing you, knees pulled in slightly, hands tucked close to his chest.
➛ He watches you like he’s memorizing the way you breathe and you can feel his eyes on you even when the room is dark.
➛ Brahms asks quiet questions before he falls asleep. If you’re comfortable, what you’ll make for breakfast, if he’s too close, if he’ll have to take a bath tomorrow, if he can stay…
➛ His voice is soft and uncertain, and every answer you give seems to relax him just a little more. Well, except for the shower question since you said that yes, he does.
➛ He doesn’t touch you at first, not really.
➛ His hand might brush against yours under the blankets, fingers twitching like he wants to hold on but isn’t sure if he’s allowed.
➛ When you reach out and lace your fingers with his, he stiffens in surprise before squeezing back like he’s afraid to let go.
➛ Once he realizes you’re really not going anywhere or going to throw him off the bed, he inches closer. Slowly and carefully, which is surprising coming from him.
➛ He presses his forehead against your shoulder or your arm, breathing you in like grounding himself.
➛ His hands grip your shirt, bunching the fabric between his trembling fingers. It’s not aggressive, it’s desperate, like he needs to know you’re real.
➛ Brahms sleeps lighter than you do. He wakes up if you move, no matter how small the movement is.
➛ If you roll over, he follows, wrapping himself around you from behind, clinging to you like a baby koala.
➛ He whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, like he’s checking that you’re still there.
➛ If you wake up in the middle of the night, you’ll find his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, porcelain face pressed into the back of your neck, breath warm and steady.
➛ He relaxes completely when you shift closer instead of pulling away. His grip tightens just a little, possessive but fragile, like he’s afraid someone might take you from him any second.
➛ In the morning, he doesn’t let go right away. He nuzzles into your shoulder, mumbling that he slept better than he usually does.
➛ He looks almost embarrassed when he realizes how close he is, yet he doesn’t move unless you do.
➛ After that night, sleeping apart isn’t really an option anymore.
➛ Brahms doesn’t ask, he just expects it, as if it’s now part of his routine.
➛ If you try to sleep somewhere else, he gets quiet and withdrawn, eyes following you with that familiar anxious expression.
➛ He needs you there, needs your warmth, your closeness and the reassurance that he isn’t alone.
Thomas Hewitt
➛ Thomas gets the idea first but he doesn’t suggest it outright.
➛ In fact, the idea alone makes him nervous. He paces, rubs his hands together, glances between you and the bed like he’s trying to figure out what the ‘right’ thing to do is.
➛ Mama would probably have opinions, saying that he shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as her before marriage, and that alone makes him hesitate.
➛ With that in mind, after thinking about it all day, he offers his bed to you, pointing at himself than the floor to tell you that’s where he’ll sleep.
➛ He genuinely believes that’s what he’s supposed to do.
➛ When you insist that there’s enough room for both of you and that it's ok to sleep in the same bed, he looks confused, like the thought never even crossed his mind.
➛ When he finally agrees, which was after long minutes convincing him that you really are ok with it and God probably is too, he takes his time getting in.
➛ He sits on the edge of the mattress for a while, hunched over, shoulders rounded and damp hands clasped together tightly.
➛ You can hear his breathing speed up with every passing second and you can also tell he’s trying very hard not to make a mistake, even if you don’t really know what mistake he could possibly make but, well, it’s Tommy.
➛ Thomas lies down stiffly, keeping as much space between you as possible. He faces the opposite direction at first, back tense, like he’s afraid to move even an inch.
➛ He’s huge, he knows it. He’s constantly aware of how much space he takes up, how easy it would be to scare or hurt you without meaning to.
➛ You’re the one who breaks the tension as you shift closer, not touching yet, just enough that he can feel your warmth.
➛ He sucks in a quiet breath and freezes, heart pounding so loudly you’re pretty sure you can feel it through the mattress.
➛ Thomas doesn’t touch you first, he just waits. For what? He doesn't really know, but still, he waits.
➛ His hand twitches at his side, fingers curling and uncurling like he wants to reach out.
➛ When you gently place your hand over his, he flinches for half a second before relaxing into it, squeezing your hand like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever held.
➛ Once he realizes you’re okay, that you’re not scared or bothered by his presence, something in him softens.
➛ He inches closer, movements slow and careful. His arm eventually slides around you, heavy but warm, resting against your back.
➛ He’s constantly checking your reaction, pulling back slightly if you tense, relaxing again when you don’t.
➛ Thomas sleeps lighter than you expect. Which isn’t that much of a surprise, with him being called every second by the Hewitt's no matter the time.
➛ He wakes up if you move too much, lifting his head to make sure you’re ok.
➛ If you wake up during the night, you might find him half-awake, watching you with that quiet, worried expression. He relaxes instantly when you mumble his name or reach for him.
➛ He’s a protective sleeper, surprisingly even more than when he’s awake.
➛ Once he fully settles, he curls around you, shielding you from the room like his body alone can keep you safe. His breathing evens out slowly, deep and steady, and you realize he hasn’t slept this peacefully in a long time.
➛ In the morning, he’s embarrassed.
➛ He pulls back quickly, apologizing in his own way with grunts, worried he got too close or held you too tightly.
➛ When you reassure him, his shoulders loosen and a shy, relieved smile flickers across his face.
➛ After that, sleeping apart feels wrong to him. He won’t ask to share the bed again, but he lingers nearby at night, waiting to see what you’ll do.
➛ If you lie down without him, he looks genuinely disappointed but, if you pat the mattress beside you, he brightens instantly, climbing in with quiet excitement he tries very hard to hide.
➛ Sleeping in the same bed with Thomas makes him feel safe in a way he’s never really known. And once he knows that feeling, he doesn’t want to lose it.
Bo Sinclair
➛ The proposition came from you but the idea from him.
➛ The suggestion alone makes him tense up, jaw tightening like he’s annoyed you even brought it up, even though it wasn’t really your idea in the first place.
➛ There’s only one bed, the couch is uncomfortable, and he’s already decided the conversation is over before it really starts.
➛ Bo pretends this isn’t a big deal, but acts like it absolutely is.
➛ He tells you it’s just sleeping, then he tells you to quit overthinking it to then tell you he’s not gonna hurt you in an annoyed groan.
➛ None of that makes the situation less nerve-wracking but you appreciate his effort to try and reassure you, or he’s trying to reassure himself, you’re not really sure.
➛ He insists you get in first, standing there with his arms crossed while you awkwardly sit down on the edge of the mattress, debating every life choice that led you here.
➛ The bed dips when you lie down and you stay stiff, keeping to your side like there’s an invisible boundary between you.
➛ When he finally gets in, the mattress shifts again and suddenly he’s right there. Too close, too warm and way too real.
➛ Bo lies on his back, staring at the ceiling like it’s its fault that he’s in this situation.
➛ He doesn’t touch you at first, doesn’t even look at you.
➛ You can tell he’s aware of every single movement you make though, because the second you adjust the blanket, his shoulders tense.
➛ You can’t sleep. You’re painfully aware that Bo Sinclair is inches away from you and that this is the quietest you’ve ever seen him, which is somehow even worse than him yelling. No sarcastic remarks, no threats, no barking orders… Just the sound of his breathing and the weight of his presence next to you.
➛ When you shift for the third time, he lets out an annoyed sigh and mutters something about you being restless and stopping him from falling asleep. You mumble an apology without thinking and he scoffs, telling you not to apologize like that.
➛ His tone softens immediately after, like he regrets snapping but he would never admit it.
➛ At some point, you finally do magically fall asleep and you roll slightly onto your side in your sleep, making your back press against his arm.
➛ It’s barely anything, but it’s enough for him to freeze completely, breath hitching before he forces himself to relax.
➛ He doesn’t pull away. Instead, after a long moment of hesitation, his arm slowly slides around your waist. Not possessive nor tight like he usually holds you, but softly, like he’s testing whether this is allowed.
➛ You wake up enough to notice it and your heart starts racing immediately as you realize, yet he doesn’t say anything.
➛ His grip stays gentle, thumb resting against your side, absentmindedly drawing circles on your skin.
➛ When you don’t pull away and just settle back with a soft smile, he exhales quietly, like he didn’t realize he was holding his breath.
➛ Bo is not a cuddler, at least he will never call himself that. If you asked him in the morning, he’d deny it completely.
➛ But as the night goes on, his hold becomes more secure. If you move, he adjusts automatically, half-asleep, but still aware of where you are, protective without meaning to be.
➛ You feel safer than you should and that realization alone makes your chest ache a little. It’s confusing and unsettling and warm all at once.
➛ If you wake up in the middle of the night, he’s awake too, pretending he isn’t.
➛ He murmurs for you to go back to sleep once he sees you still awake after a few minutes, voice low and rough, his thumb still rubbing small, absent circles into your side like it’s muscle memory.
➛ You fall asleep faster after that, simply humming to him in response as his hold around you gets a little tighter.
➛ In the morning, he’s already awake and the second he realizes you are too, he pulls his arm away like he’s been caught doing something embarrassing.
➛ He avoids your eyes, tells you not to read into it, mutters something about it just being easier to sleep that way.
➛ But the next time you ask to sleep with him again, he doesn’t argue at all.
Vincent Sinclair
➛ Just like Jason, nobody suggest it, Vincent only has one bed and it’s kind of obvious to him that you will be sleeping in it, which you understand quickly.
➛ He doesn’t object when the situation comes up, just tilts his head and watches you carefully, eyes flicking from you to the bed and back again like he’s studying the scene before it happens. You can almost see him planning where to place himself.
➛ Sleeping in the same bed as Vincent feels strangely intimate right away, even though he barely makes a sound.
➛ He turns the lamp off before either of you lies down. The room sinks into darkness immediately, he prefers it that way, especially since he prefers to sleep without his mask on.
➛ When he gets into bed, he does it quietly, careful not to jostle you.
➛ He positions himself on his side, facing you, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting against the mattress between your body and his.
➛ Vincent watches, that’s the first thing you notice. Not in a threatening way, not even in a creepy way, just… attentive. Like he’s sketching you in his mind.
➛ He doesn’t touch you at first. Instead, he mirrors you.
➛ If you lie on your side, he does the same. If you pull the blanket higher, he adjusts it on himself too. There’s something oddly comforting about it, like he’s syncing himself to you.
➛ At some point, he reaches out, not to you, but to the blanket again. He gently tugs it over your shoulder when it slips down, fingers brushing your arm in the process. He pauses, watching for your reaction with the little light available in the room.
➛ When you don’t pull away, his hand lingers just a second longer than necessary before retreating.
➛ Vincent sleeps lightly, even if he can sleep really heavily when he hasn’t slept in too long. But when he does drift off, which takes time, he moves closer without fully waking.
➛ He ends up near enough that you can feel the warmth of his body, the slow rise and fall of his breathing.
➛ One of his hands rests near your wrist, not holding it, just there, like he wants to know you’re close.
➛ If you wake up and look at him, you’ll find him already awake sometimes, eyes open, studying your face.
➛ He doesn’t look away when you catch him. Instead, he reaches up and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the motion careful and reverent.
➛ He doesn’t smile, but there’s something soft in his expression that feels like one.
➛ Vincent communicates in small gestures. If you’re cold, he shifts closer. If you tense, he stills. If you relax, he relaxes too.
➛ He learns your sleeping habits quickly, adjusting himself to fit into your space without overtaking it.
➛ In the morning, he’s still there, watching the light creep into the room.
➛ He doesn’t get up right away, he takes a moment to simply watch you sleep before putting his mask back on his face.
➛ Instead of then getting out of the bed, he reaches for a scrap of paper and a pencil from the nightstand. He sketches quietly while you’re asleep, glancing at you between strokes.
➛ When you finally wake up fully, he pushes the paper toward you. It’s a simple drawing. You, asleep, looking more peaceful than you’ve ever felt.
➛ Sleeping in the same bed with Vincent isn’t loud or a dramatic act. It’s gentle, observant and deeply personal.
➛ Once he lets you into that space, you become part of his routine, his art and his of calm and Vincent doesn’t let go of things that inspire him.
Lester Sinclair
➛ Sleeping in the same bed as Lester happens in a way that feels almost accidental.
➛ He talks about it first, joking about what if you did? But you don’t joke about that. And he realizes it when you accept with a seriousness he rarely sees in you.
➛ He laughs it off at first, scratching the back of his neck, making some dumb joke about how he snores or how he’s ‘not exactly prime cuddle material.’
➛ He fully expects you to back out, he’s already halfway convinced you’re going to.
➛ When you don’t, he blinks at you like he misheard.
➛ He insists on changing the sheets. Like, immediately. Says something about them being dusty and not great for guests, even though you know he just wants to make it nice for you.
➛ He fusses around the room longer than necessary, talking the whole time, filling the silence so neither of you has to acknowledge how big this feels for him.
➛ When you finally get into bed, Lester stays perched on the edge for a moment, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
➛ He mutters another joke, something about rolling over and crushing you by accident. He's clearly not trying to be funny, he's just too nervous.
➛ He lies down carefully after you tell him to, stiff at first, like he’s afraid the bed might collapse under the weight of the situation.
➛ He gives you plenty of space, more than you actually need, and keeps his hands folded awkwardly over his stomach, fingers tapping on it nervously. You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with them.
➛ Lester talks himself to sleep. Not loudly, just murmuring little comments about the day, about dumb things he noticed and about the animals outside.
➛ It’s rambling and unfocused, but there’s something soothing about it, like he’s letting you into his head without realizing it.
➛ At some point, he shifts closer, making it look like he does it without meaning to. Not dramatically, just inch by inch, until your shoulders brush.
➛ He freezes when he feels your skin, breath hitching, waiting for you to react.
➛ When you don’t pull away, he lets out a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving.
➛ He doesn’t wrap an arm around you. Instead, he bumps his knee against yours lightly, like a question.
➛ When you respond by nudging back, he relaxes completely, tension draining out of him in a way that’s painfully obvious.
➛ Lester sleeps deeper than you expect. Once he’s out, he’s out.
➛ He mumbles in his sleep sometimes, nonsense words, half-formed thoughts.
➛ If you move too much, he instinctively shifts to make room, always accommodating you even when he’s not conscious.
➛ If you wake up during the night, you’ll find him turned toward you, face soft, completely unguarded.
➛ One hand might be resting near you, not touching, just close enough that you could reach for it if you wanted.
➛ There’s something achingly lonely about the way he sleeps, like he’s not used to sharing space with anyone who actually wants to be there.
➛ In the morning, he wakes up red in the face.
➛ Laughs it off immediately, making jokes about drooling or stealing the blankets. But there’s a quiet happiness under it all, something he doesn’t try to hide very hard.
➛ He lingers longer than necessary next to you before getting up, stretching, moving slowly like he doesn’t want the moment to end.
➛ After that, Lester starts finding excuses. The couch being uncomfortable, this room being warmer…
➛ He still jokes about it every time, still acts surprised when you don’t leave, but he always makes sure there’s room for you.
➛ Sleeping in the same bed with Lester feels easy andamiliar, like something he’s wanted for a long time but never thought he deserved. And once he realizes you’re choosing to be there, it means more to him than he’ll ever say out loud… For now, at least.
