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semiweirdshipper · 11 months

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Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.

...

Freddy

He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."

Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.

"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.

You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."

Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."

Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.

"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.

"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"

"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"

"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.

"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."

Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.

Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.

"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.

Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"

"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."

Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.

Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"

Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.

Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"

"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."

"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"

Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.

Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"

Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.

Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."

He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?

Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"

You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."

"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.

Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.

As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"

"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."

Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."

Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.

Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.

He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.

You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?

"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.

Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."

Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.

Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.

You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."

Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.

Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.

Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.

You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.

Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.

Hannibal

He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.

Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.

As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"

"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.

"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."

Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."

"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."

Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.

"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.

You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.

Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.

"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.

You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"

Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."

"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.

Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."

...

All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #reader insert #child reader #Platonic love only #Not romantic #bo sinclair x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #freddy krueger x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #Father & child relationship #michael myers x reader #Slashers as dads #Comfort drabbles

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calmcoldevening · 1 year

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Why did they want to keep you with them? (slashers x reader)

TW! Mention of rape and abuse

Michael Myers

• Michael came to your house to kill you.

• He was prevented by one scene: you were crying and screaming, trying to escape from the grip of your "boyfriend", who forcibly undressed you. Disgusting attempted rape.

• Michael lay low, watching you for a while, watching your pleas and futile attempts to escape. Your gaze reflected the pain of betrayal. This was different from what Myers saw in the eyes of his victims during the murders.

• You reminded him of his mother. Michael grew up around women, and he saw how his mother often cried at night after a particularly hard shift at "work". And although he didn't feel anything towards you at that moment, he understood that it was wrong.

• In place of you and this guy, Michael saw Deborah and Ronnie. And he couldn't stand this sofa imbecile. Such a vile, cruel and disgusting person is not worthy of life, right?

• When he was done with the guy, Myers came up to you and squatted down. You, clearly still on the verge of hysteria and loss of consciousness, clung to his shoulders, burying your face in a blue jumpsuit. Michael didn't know how to react, he didn't feel anything, but something inside was telling him to comfort.

• The voices behaved strangely. At any other time they would have said kill, but not now. And only the mother's voice stood out among this gray series of sounds: "Calm her, Michael."

Bubba Sawyer

• That day you were traveling with Sally, her brother and friends. You've been pretty distant. You were always stressed out by such noisy companies, but Pam begged you, as one of her best friends, to go with them.

• When a strange hitchhiker jumps into your van, you are attracted to his behavior. Why is he so jumpy? Sick in the head? Perhaps. Your fears are confirmed when he snatches a knife from Franklin and cuts open his hand. You look at his distraught face and run up to him, thinking how to stop the blood faster. After walking in for a while, you grab your backpack and take out bandages and some ointments that you bought earlier at the nearest pharmacy. As carefully as possible, you rub his palm and wrap a clean bandage on top. Nubbins, as you will find out later, looks at you with shock and incomprehension.

• When you become one of the Sawyers' victims, it becomes a choice who they want to put at the table as a guest during a dinner party. The choice falls on you and Sally.

• Nubbins immediately recognizes you and begins to actively tell his brothers something. Did you help Nubbins? Bubba is impressed. You didn't offend his brother, but on the contrary, you showed sympathy!

• Bubba is heading towards you (you and Sally are sitting on the infamous bone sofa). He touches your cheek with his thick finger, and you smile nervously. You're ready to cry from fear right now; your lips are trembling, but no tears are flowing. Bubba repeats his action, this time stroking your chin. He smacks his lips strangely from time to time; you can see his crooked teeth.

• To be honest, Nubbins and Drayton never understood why their brother left you, but he continued to be adamant, carefully taking you to his room. He untied your limbs only in the late afternoon, when he was sure he could keep an eye on you.

Vincent Sinclair

• You came to Ambrose and decided to go to the store for a snack. Bo immediately called out to you and offered to go to his house. The boy is cute, smiling — why not?

• When you entered the Sinclair house, you immediately realized that the guy, or guys, it seems he had brothers, had not had proper care and care for a long time: all the rooms were dusty, and the kitchen was littered with dirty dishes and empty boxes of instant food.

• Without thinking twice, you decided to first clear the space a little, and then concoct something in a hurry. In the end, Bo gave it the go-ahead.

• While you are washing the dishes, a strong blow is heard upstairs, and then Bo's angry screams. You hurriedly wipe your hands and almost run to the second floor. Slowly approaching the right room, you hear Bo's furious voice. "Fuck, couldn't you've been more careful, huh? Now she's definitely gonna run away, damn it. And all because of you, bastard!". Then there was a thud.

• You run into the room and see Bo towering over a long-haired guy. He fell on his ass and pressed his hands to his face. You rush to him and help him up. "Are you okay? What was that? Does anything hurt?" you shower the man with questions and only now notice that his face is wearing a mask.

• "Get away from him. And you, freak, move it. You don't want to get another slap in the face, do you?". You frown and stand in front of the guy, blocking him from Bo. You let the long-haired one lean on your shoulder. "Don't yell at him. Can't you see that he's sick?".

• The only thing Vincent can think about at this moment is how you protect him, not afraid to raise your voice to Bo, and what kind of affectionate and warm hands you have. You gently hold him by his broad back, and even through the mask he feels a pleasant scent of perfume. Maybe I shouldn't kill you?

Bo Sinclair

• You arrived in Ambrose with your friends. Although, they could hardly be called that. They were extremely toxic and called you names all the time.

• Your car needed an inspection: while driving, something was knocking violently under the hood, so when one of the guys talked to Lester, you drove into town.

• This place seemed nice enough to you, even though it looked a little creepy and abandoned.

• When Bo was talking to a guy from your company who was driving a car, he saw a young man yelling at you and sometimes swinging. Bo frowned, but did not show his mood change to others. "Why doesn't the girl go to our local "House of Wax"? This place will really make you want to stay" Bo joked, pointing towards a hill near the city. You went in the indicated direction with a clear desire to distract yourself from these vile people, leaving your pseudo-friends in the care of Bo.

• A little later you will discover that all your companions have mysteriously "left", leaving you in this city all alone to fend for yourself.

• Bo will calm you down and try in every possible way to show that you can trust him (what's there, you cried into his vest, and he gently stroked you on the back). The man was grinning.

• In fact, he just saw himself in you at that moment. He remembered how his parents treated him brutally, chained him to a chair with stones and constantly set an example for his younger brother. Something about you, so shrinking and scared, seemed to him exciting and interesting. Perhaps he found in your eyes the same feelings that he experienced in his life, there was something familiar about you, even native, that made him want to protect you and fence you off from these terrible people.

Well i love them too much hah. I wrote this with my ex-girlfriend a long time ago, so I was not sure if it was worth posting. But what's done is done. These boys are too cute for me not to write this one. So have a good day :)

#slashers x reader #slashers #fanfic #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #drabble #michael myers x reader #michael myers #michael myers rz #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x you #well i love them all

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