Creepypasta x Reader Oneshots, Headcanons, and Boy/Girlfriend Scenarios

Bloody Painter x GN! Reader

Content warning: Mentions of blood, Nudity

Age rating: Teen and Up Audiences

     The old timey clawfoot bathtub emitted an enticing and inviting presence. The steam that the warm water produced hung heavy in the air like a fine mist, clinging to my naked body as I untied the front of my towel. The soft cotton grazed my skin as it fell to the ground and pooled around my feet. I slipped into the water's comforting embrace, the foamy surface that had been disrupted by my figure settling into the tub simply drifted away, but the rest concealed me entirely. Leaning back, I shifted my leg upwards until I saw my foot emerge from the blankets of white bubbles. Using my toe, I poked and prodded the silver faucet absentmindedly as my mind drifted from this to that. Accidentally pressing one of the knobs too far, a small stream of water began flowing from it.

"Stop that, you'll make the water too hot." A quiet but deep voice chuckled, to anyone else it would've ominous. But to me, it brought a soothing sense of familiarity.

      A pale hand reached out and shut off the water, stopping the rush of hot water from its assault on my feet. I looked up to its owner, my lover Helen standing there next to my side. He smiled softly down me, tugging off his fluffy pastel blue robe.

"You plan on scooting over?" He asked teasingly.

"Hm, let me think about it," I replied sarcastically, "I think not-," Helen cut me off, reaching into the water in front of me and splashing me.

"Ah! Okay, okay I'll move!" I cried out, using my hands to shield the sudden onslaught of attacks, something Helen gleefully giggled at.

     I moved closer to the opposite end on the tub, the sound of the water sloshing mixed with the lulling music that played in the background. It sounded old-fashioned; a woman's elegant voice accompanied by a soothing piano. It was the type of music Helen always listened to when he painted, especially his special paintings. The water raised up slightly as a pale chest appeared behind me and long legs surrounded me.

     While I hadn't seen many of Helen's special paintings, I'll never forget the day he had made one for me. It was a portrait of me straight from his extensive imagination, not one curve or strand of hair was absent from his mind. It might sound vain of me, but that painting was without question my favorite. Looking at it was like looking at a mirror covered in crimson, and the more I inspected the painting the more I saw the little details about myself that I hadn't even paid attention to. Strategically placed freckles, the location of that pesky strand of baby hair, and so on. It told me just how much Helen loved me enough to memorize even my smallest features.

"Am I allowed to come back, are you going to water board me again?" I asked, casting look over my shoulder to him as he finished settling behind me.

      He chuckled in response, wrapping his arms around my midsection and pulling me back into his chest. He settled his chin in the crook where my shoulder and neck met, humming while placing a chaste kiss on the sensitive junction. His cool breath ghosted across my skin and raised goosebumps in its wake. The flickering flames of several white pillar candles on the floor casted quivering shadows as gusts of the cold twilight breeze fluttered in through the window above us left ajar. A simple string of fairy lights, hung around the mirror above the sink, was the only stable source of light that didn't oscillate or flicker. Beside the tub was an old wooden chair sitting on ivory tiles that glimmered where droplets of water escaped. On the chair's seat sat several folded and pristinely white towels, fluffy and warm, straight from the dryer. I felt the day's stress melt from my tired muscles as my love used his deft fingers to massage my upper thighs from under the water. If Helen wasn't here with me, I'm sure I would've eventually fall asleep from his affectionate treatment.