Brahms Heelshire X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Brahms Heelshire

AN: Brahms is here!!

Warnings: major character death, violence, Brahms being insane and his usual toxic self, swearing

"What do you think you're doing?"

His voice was alarmed, panicked, as if he saw you holding a knife instead of a pair of pants. Brahms had that kind of thing where he'd worry about the tiniest things. A word that wasn't pronounced like he was used to, food that didn't taste like usual, mistakes that broke the routine. It made him uneasy, and scared.

You were standing in front of the bed, trying to decide what clothes to wear. The satin sheets were littered with varying clothing articles arranged close to each other to determine which colors matched.

"The new girl who brings the groceries invited me into town to show me around in case she can't go shopping for us. I thought I'd go, you know-", you gestured towards him, "in case there's an emergency."

Brahms was quiet for a few seconds, still observing you while nervously grasping the edge of the door.

He didn't want you to go. Not at all. You wouldn't come back if he let you go.

"I don't want you to go.", he mentioned his worries quietly, voice dropping deeper, now that he knew he had to stop you. It sent shivers down your body, the way his childish voice faded. As if a switch inside him just clicked.

"I know, Brahms, but I think it's for the best.", you smiled at him sweetly, finally deciding what clothes to wear, "And it'll be just for one evening."

Brahms felt anxiety rise in the pit of his stomach like bile. No. You couldn't go. He didn't want you to. His parents went away too, and they never came back.

"I don't want you to go.", this time it was louder, more rushed, more panicked. Brahms knuckles had turned white from holding onto the door frame.

"Brahms,", you sighed quietly, swiftly putting on your pants, "I know this seems scary to you, but it'll be fine."

The way you kept insisting that you'd go made him swallow harshly. Even just the idea of having to stay here alone, knowing you'd leave him, made him feel sick and hopeless inside. His stomach churned.

No, he wouldn't let you leave.

"I'm not scared,", Brahms shook his head vehemently, making the dark brown locks dance in front of his face, "I just don't want you to go."

You rolled your eyes at him, swiftly putting the clothes back into your dresser. Did he always have to be such a child? You understood the whole trauma, commitment issue thing, but god, it was annoying sometimes. He was a grown man after all, he should be able to stay alone for a few hours.

"Brahms, I will go.", you stated with a curt nod in his direction, "It's just one evening, I'm sure you'll survive."

Another eye roll from you accompanied the statement. This conversation was not what you wanted before leaving the house, even if a small part of you knew you'd had to face this the second you accepted the offer.

Something clicked inside the man in front of you at the sight of you being so careless about all of this. Did you even care about his feelings in this whole situation? You loved him, didn't you? Then why be so cold about all of this? Maybe you wanted to leave him, you wanted to be with someone else, betray him, and everything he felt for you. Jealousy seeped into hos system, clouding his thoughts.

"I said no.", he yelled, moving in front of you, blocking the door with his body.

He was huge as he loomed over you, and even though you trusted him with your life, you flinched back a little, intimidated by his size. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving while hot air hit you through the holes of his mask.

"Brahms.", every bit of warmth had left your voice, and you pressed your hands against your hips, sending a cold stare to the man in front of you. You had enough.

But the brunette just kept breathing heavily, never once breaking eye contact. His gaze would've scared you if he didn't behave so childishly. Just like always.

The two of you kept looking at each other, eyes fighting a war one could never express with words. Just as Brahms was about to give in, ready to cling to you if that meant you staying, the deafening ringing of the doorbell echoed through the large, empty house.

Both of your heads snapped towards the big entrance door, temporarily forgetting about the tension in the room beforehand. You sent one glance back to Brahms, and before he could react, pushed yourself through the gap between him and the door, leaving him behind. What a mistake.

Brahms stared at his hands for a few seconds, in disbelief, before his eyes followed your form marching down the stairs.

His vision turned red with rage. How could you. How did you dare.

With his stare never once leaving you, he started steering towards you. It felt like his sight was restricted, the only thing he perceived a tunnel vision and at the end of it, you.

And you came closer and closer as he followed you, your body now nearly in reach.

Like in a trance, the brunette noticed his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, as well with a sharp, piercing beeping that made his skin tingle.

One of his hands got a hold of your arm, and with a strength he didn't look like he possessed, he pulled you back against him.

You wouldn't leave. You'd never, ever leave. He'd make sure of it, even if it meant he'd have to chain you to the bed.

You, however, grew furious as soon as you felt his skin on yours and with one sharp push, you shoved the man away from you and against the banister. Brahms yelped as his spine hit the sharp edge of the wood, but right now, you couldn't care less.

"Touch me again, and I'll leave and never-", your voice was dripping pure venom, eyes shooting ice-cold daggers at the man in front of you, "-ever come back."

That was the final straw, the final statement.

With a grunt and a loud, final "No!", Brahms forced you away from him. His strong arms pushed you back as he stepped forward, locks sticking to the sweat on his neck.

He saw you fall as if someone froze time. The way your foot missed the step, the way your eyes widened as you stumbled backwards, arms fishing around the air, searching, hoping, for something that could catch your fall. Your pretty mouth opened in a scream, you tried to grab the wooden railing next to you but failed as your body flew back without you having any control.

A loud, sickening crack filled the open lobby like a gunshot, and then it was silent. Dead silent. Brahms noticed that the doorbell stopped. The bitch must've realized that no one was coming.

Brahms took a deep breath, swallowing blood he didn't know he had in his mouth as he glanced down the staircase. He didn't see nor hear you. Anxiety filled his brain, earlier rage swept away as if he'd forgotten about it.

"...Y/n?", he whispered, voice suddenly small and high-pitched again, filled with fear. He didn't mean it, he didn't mean it, oh lord, he didn't mean it. He hoped you wouldn't be angry.

"Y/n? I'm sorry.", Brahms took a few small steps down the stairs, hands gripping the railing as if he'd fall when he'd let go. A few more steps, and he saw your leg behind one of the banisters, unmoving.

A few more steps and your torso came into view pressed into the carpet of the staircase.

"Y/n...?", Brahms didn't know why he was talking so quietly. He didn't know what was going on at all. He just wanted you to stay with him and now- he swallowed harshly.

A few more steps and he saw it. Your head had hit the floor on your fall down, breaking your neck on impact. Blood pooled around the skull, face sickly twisted and contorted as your skin had moved to give space to your moving bones. Dead, cold eyes stared up at him, lidded and filled with... fear.

The masked man moved closer, slowly and quietly, as he looked down at you. A few seconds later and he was kneeling on the ground, gently reaching out to touch your cheek. It was warm but felt weird, like a doll, like dough. It scared him, even if he didn't know why.

"Y/n...", the killer softly petted your cheek smearing a bit of blood over your skin during the process, "M'sorry. Just didn't want you to leave."

His voice was small and scared, like a child apologizing for eating too much candy, or breaking Mother's favorite vase.

Brahms anxiously waited for an answer. When he didn't get one, he stood up, slowly moving backwards. What was he going to do now?

"I'll wait upstairs, okay?"

No answer.

"I am sorry, Y/n.", the corners of his mouth pulled down like a giant, exaggerated pout. He looked a child. A child stuck in the body of a grown man.

Brahms slowly made his way upstairs, softly trudging over the carpet.

It was still deathly silent in the lobby, the only noise came from the big clock, ticking away in the corner.

As soon as Brahms reached the end of the stairs, he looked down one more time, hoping to see your face follow him, your sweet voice call out for him, but nothing moved.

Sighing, he made his way to his room, hoping that even though this time, he'd made a grave mistake, you'd still forgive him. After all, you loved him, right?

AN: I love the idea of Brahms not understanding death and "falling back" into his childish self because of it. I thought it fits well. I'd love to hear your opinions though.

"my child is fine"

dude, your child finds comfort in horror movie characters

DAY SIX • WHOLESOME SEX (ft. brahms heelshire)

tw: gn!reader, sucky characterisation probably cause I was on my phone while watching the movies, belly bulge, inexperienced Brahms, technically you’re on top of him idk, no protection :(

“Brahms, hun…” you sighed, tapping his shoulder for the nth time that hour. “You’ve got to let me get up.”

It’d been like this for a while. He asked you to lay with him for ten minutes and didn’t let you go for an hour, almost two. This wouldn’t be much of a problem if you weren’t busy, but as his… well, nanny, as he called you, you had to make him dinner, else you’d both starve to death.

…

Maybe not to death.

But you still needed to eat!

“Five more minutes?” He begged, his faux voice soft in your ear. “Please?”

“It’s been almost two hours, baby,” you stroked his hair gently, “what’s up with you today? Is something wrong?”

He let out a breath, nuzzling into your chest comfortably. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure? You don’t get like this often,” you noted, looking down at him with concern. “Don’t lie to me, Brahms.”

He didn’t reply for a moment, shifting a little in your arms, until you felt it. The thick, hard piece of flesh pressing against your thigh from underneath his pants.

“Oh.”

You found yourself speechless for a moment, contemplating on what to do with him now. On one hand, you had no problem helping him, on the other, you knew he enjoyed solving things on his own, at his own pace.

“Do you need help with it, love?”

Surprisingly, he was quick to agree, nodding almost eagerly after a short pause to process. He seemed to get excited at the idea of more than just a good night kiss for once.

He didn’t flinch like he did before, when you were both still getting used to each other, now happily receiving your slow, deliberate touches along his lower body. He was still nervous, as always, but didn’t hesitate so much, even going as far as pressing himself to you or guiding your hand to where he wanted you.

Actually, once you started to stroke him with the intention of getting him off, he stopped you.

“No,” he breathed out heavily, “want you,” he insisted stubbornly.

You froze in place, eyes flicking up to him. “Are you sure, Brahms? You don’t have to push—”

“Yes,” he reached for your thighs, “please?”

Well how could you refuse now?

“Sit up then, let me show you,” you instructed, gently untangling yourself from him to straddle his lap properly.

After a bit of preparation, you were able to warm yourself up enough to stretch yourself over the head of his cock. Despite trying to stay calm for him, you couldn’t help but let out a soft groan, burying your face in his neck.

“You okay?” You checked up on him through clenched teeth. “God, love, you’re big…”

He nodded, inhaling deeply. “Y—yes. Feels good.”

“I’m gonna…” you exhaled, feeling him sink further into you. “I’m gonna start to move, alright?”

With his confirmation, you lowered yourself on him completely. You could swear you saw a bulge in your abdomen as you did, but you didn’t have much time to stare as his hips began to twitch, moving almost automatically to meet yours.

You could feel his hot breath on your throat, teeth latching onto the delicate skin as he pumped in and out erratically, muttering jumbled compliments under his breath.

Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch, and you couldn’t help but curse to yourself as you moved with him, lifting off and coming back down in the same, irregular movements.

“Are you close, love?” You mumbled hazily, looking down at him through your fluttering lashes.

He whimpered in response, nodding quickly as he pistoned in and out of you even faster, desperate.

“Fuck, Brahms, wait—”

You cried out as you felt your muscles tense, pleasure rippling through your body in thrumming waves. He didn’t stop though, not until he came undone as well, mewls of ‘I love you’ falling past his lips until he was gasping for breath and there was a warmth spreading inside your tummy.

With one last exhale, he deflated against you, hiding his face in your chest, scruffy beard tickling your collar.

“Thank you. I love you, (#).”

“Love you too, Brahms.”

Hii i was wondering if you could do the slashers with an s/o who likes being carried around everywhere (Brahms Bo and any others of your chosing)

slashers with an s/o who likes being carried around everywhere

mentioned: brahms heelshire, bo sinclair, thomas hewitt, stu macher, michael myers, tiny firefly

warnings: mentions of murder

a/n: thank you so much for the request, this was so fun to write!

also, i had to put tiny in here because i just love him so much :((

brahms heelshire

the one thing brahms yearns for in his life is closeness, somebody who will never leave him

so when you express that you like to be carried around he can't really believe his luck

he loves being close to you and this is just another opportunity for just that

he'll probably carry you one of two ways; he'll either carry you in his arms bridal style, or he'll carry you chest to chest (i don't really know how to actually describe it)

he hates being alone so he loves being able to have you with him most of the time

he won't carry you around all the time though because he still has his own things to do

bo sinclair

he hates it...or at least, he claims he does

bo usually spends his days alone, either working in the gas station or playing his part to lure unsuspecting victims into the town

he never really has much going on, and if he's being honest, it gets lonely

his brother vincent rarely comes out from his workshop and lester rarely has much to do with the town itself so he's left to his own devices most days, with nothing but his own mind to slowly drive him crazy

the second he discovers you like being carried everywhere, he takes a lot of enjoyment in doing exactly that

he doesn't really carry you properly, he kind of just drags you

it's somewhat like a half-assed piggy back

and although he'll spend the majority of the time grunting and groaning about it, cussing you out under his breath, he actually really loves finally having somebody so close to him

it certainly makes his days less lonely

whilst he's very uncaring though about how he carries you, if you're ill or you're injured, he'll make sure to be real careful with you

day to day though he really couldn't give a shit about being careful but he'll never admit to how much he loves carrying you

thomas hewitt

thomas doesn't like being away from you much, so being able to carry you around is just a bonus for him

he takes every opportunity to pick you up and carry you places, even if you haven't asked

sometimes he'll pick you up bridal style and sometimes he'll simply sling you over his shoulder because it's easier

his family get on at him for doing it so much because you need to pull your weight and such and he's just letting you laze around but he doesn't listen to them

he continues to carry you around because he really just loves having you with him all the time

he hopes you never stop enjoying being carried everywhere because he loves it

stu macher

he loves carrying you around

he's always offering to give you piggy backs

sometimes he'll take you by surprise and throw you over his shoulder and carry you like that

either way, he finds it fun to carry you around everywhere

he has requested a piggy back or two in the past though, which ultimately ended with you almost collapsing beneath him

michael myers

he doesn't really care either way, but there's no way he'll put any effort into carrying you. you either hang off the back of his shoulders or nothing

michael's pretty strong so having you on his back wouldn't really affect his day to day activities

stalking his sister? no problem. you're not even there

murdering someone who happened to get in his way? he barely even notices you

simply walking down the street, having you on his back makes no difference as he simply couldn't care less

he does secretly enjoy having you with him though as he gets lonely sometimes

you're like a little companion he can just take with him wherever he goes

tiny firefly

tiny likes to be helpful so he definitely doesn't mind carrying you around

he's used to anyone outside of his family shying away from him because of his appearance, so when he learns that you want him to carry you around places, he practically jumps at the chance

he loves that you're not afraid of him like most people and is honestly happy to help you out in this way

he enjoys having the company and he also enjoys being able to be close to you, so this is really a win win situation for you both

[Main Masterlist]

Headcanons for Vincent, Thomas, Brahms, Michael Myers with an s/o who is really good at riding them, like riding them to oblivion till they can’t think right

Vincent Sinclair

Loves when his darling is on top, he gets to watch his beautiful work of art use him like a toy.

His hands grip their hips, and he rolls his own in rhythm with their movements.

Dark hair sticks to his forehead with sweat, his mouth hangs open. His mask was discarded long ago, he looks immaculate in the low light of his workshop.

His breathing is heavy and his moans are strangled. He's trying to keep quiet so he can hear his lover, their groans and sighs.

Vincent loves the way they feel when they bounce on his cock, he thinks he's died and gone to heaven.

Brahms Heelshire

He's such a sub it's not even funny. He begged his lover to make him feel good before bed and they happily obliged.

He doesn't regret asking for this, but he knows he's gonna get fucked stupid.

They're bouncing on his cock, tight little hole squeezing around him deliciously.

Brahms moans loudly, and his hands wander their body. Groping and grabbing the soft skin. He begs for more, tears forming in his eyes.

His beloved smirks down at him, his mind melting the more they rock their hips. He doesn't want it to stop, yet at the same time he needs to cum.

Thomas Hewitt

He's very much a giver. Whatever his lover wants they will get.

He protested being laid on his back only because he wants to make sure his beloved is getting as much pleasure as he is.

Tommy is convinced that they're enjoying themselves as well when he sees the way they look down at him.

Their hips rolling, their tight hole squeezing his fat cock just right. His mask was discarded, and he was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.

Low grunts rumbled in his chest, his cock throbbed as his darling bounced. They looked like a work of art above him.

Michael Myers

Selfish. That's the best word to describe him in bed. When his beloved climbed over him he remained completely still.

If they wanted to fuck themselves on his cock, they can have at it. He's tired, he won't help, not unless they cum before he does.

His nonchalant attitude melts away within minutes, his lover bounced along his shaft. The tip of his cock hit something delicious inside them and he nearly lost it.

Heavy pants emanated from behind his mask. He was losing himself, watching as they use him like a fuck toy. Their tight hole milking him for all he's worth.

Please please please more dead dove thoughs on brahms, maybe him with breast feeding kink pleaseeeeeeeee

Brahms very quickly becomes obsessed with his new nanny's tits

Even before they're aware that he's not a doll.

Sneaks into their room when they're asleep and lifts their shirt just to look at them. His mouth waters as he resists the urge to latch onto a nipple.

After they've learned of his presence, and accepts being with him. Brahms tries so hard to get under their shirt

He's so whiny and needy and begs to drink. Even when they tell him they don't have any milk, he insists.

He starts asking to nurse several times a day and it devolves into him just going to his nanny and pulling at their shirt.

Brahms likes to have them cradle him in their lap and fist his cock as he nurses.

He's so desperate and needy and will start to call them mommy after a while. Begging for mommy to let him cum, or to let him nurse.

Slashers x Pregnant! Reader

✨ reader almost gets hurt by a victim/victim uses reader as leverage — requested by anon ✨

includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, and Poly! Ghostface

warnings: mentions or possible descriptions of (slight!) violence, cursing

a/n: i might use some manga as lil cover pictures when writing multiple slashers/idk what picture to use idk i think they’re cute teehee😅🤭 anyways, sorry for the wait—i hope you all enjoy! readers pronouns are gender neutral💜💜

💜Bo Sinclair

You just finished doing the dishes, when you heard a knock at the door. Unsure it was one of the boys, you scooted from your comfy couch spot and opened the door.

To your surprise, it was not one of the boys—and much to the unexpected visitor's surprise, someone opened the damned door.

“Please, you have to help me.” The man begged in front of you, big sloppy tears pouring from his eyes.

You paused and looked at the male in front of you before raising a brow. You knew what was up, but you never had to deal with the victims before, especially now that you’re over a month pregnant—Bo really doesn’t want you talking or handling them.

“They’re going to get me,” He choke and sobbed, “I need your help.”

Unsure of what to do, you stood there for a few seconds longer, thinking of what the safest option was, but also one that wouldn’t put the boys in danger.

Over the surprise visitor's shoulder, you could see Bo approaching, and he was just a few buildings away—while staring at Bo, and trying to decide your option, the visitor turned around to catch what you were looking at and met Bo’s now rage-filled demeanor.

Quickly, he shoved you to the floor, hopping over you; only stepping on your arm. The minute Bo reached you, he gently helped you up and cupped your cheek. He then pressed a small kiss to your nose and asked you to go to your guy’s shared bedroom.

You could hear each sloshing stabbing sound and the man’s blood-curdling screams almost all night before Bo accompanied you in bed.

🩷Vincent Sinclair

You happily made your way towards the Wax Museum, a plate of food in your hand for your beloved since you know Vincent most likely hasn’t eaten yet.

Once you got to the entrance of the museum, much to your startle, the door was already open. And to make matters worse, you hear two voices giggling.

You stood still beside the entrance, your free hand holding where your womb is, pausing to think of your best option for safety for you and the growing baby. Vincent must've known of their presence, so it's only a matter of time now. Once their whispering died down, you snuck inside the building, peeking around each corner and listening to make sure nobody could see or hear you. You turned a corner too quick in your need to get to Vincent, that you bumped your hip on a nearby table, almost causing you to drop your plate. "Shit," You silently muttered, panicking slightly from your slight bump. "What was that?" A man asked just faint enough for you to hear, causing your panic to rise more. "Maybe it's the dog from earlier?" A woman responded questioningly. As if on cue, Vincent sneaks around the corner and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, while also signaling you to shush before pointing in the direction of where the intruders. He quickly puts his hand over his mask's mouth, then presses it softly to where your baby bump's growing like a little kiss. And from there, he went to take care of the two.

💜Lester Sinclair

You were riding in the truck with Lester, as he went to run errands when a stranger waved you guys down alongside the road.

“Hey! Hi—sorry to bother you guys,” The stranger stumbled nervously, “Something happened and we really need to get to our friends, would one of us be able to catch a ride to the nearest town?”

You and Lester exchanged unsure glances, but Lester agreed nonetheless. You scooted to the middle seat closer Lester, giving him one last worried glance before patting the seat for the stranger.

The three of you rode in an uncomfortable silence, occasionally making some small talk about the small town of Ambrose, and how the two of you like it.

“Ain’t too bad,” Lester spoke up, “Pretty quiet. Everyone minds their own business for the most part.”

The strangers phone started to ring, and they quickly apologized and answered, stiffening in statue after what seemed 10 seconds. They nervously side eyed Lester and you a few times, while giving verbal acknowledgments over the phone.

“Excuse me—can you stop the car?” They asked, feigning a polite exterior, their jaw quivering and the right hand upon the door handle shook nervously.

“Mhm,” Lester slowed to a stop, but before the old beat up truck could even get to a halt, the stranger opened the door, and grabbed you, pulling the both of you out of the car, leaving only Lester in the drivers seat.

“Stay back, freak! Or—or else!” The stranger shoved you to the ground, then pointing a finger to Lester, to prove a point to him that they’re not above violence.

You tried to crawl away, but the stranger had other plans.

“Get back here, bitch,” The strangers focus was too engrossed into you, they didn’t notice Lester hop out of the truck, “I heard what you did to my friends!”

The stranger went to reach for you, but was stopped by Lester pulling them back and punching perpetrator in the throat.

“Hell is wrong with you hitting a pregnant person,” Lester’s punches did not ease up until the strangers face looked like a bloody pulp.

Once he finished, he walked over to where you stood yourself up, and pulled you in for a hug, and pressed a kiss to your forehead and knelt down to press a kiss to your tummy.

“Y’okay, sugar?” He grasped your hand, and walked you to the truck and helped you sit down comfortably.

🩷Thomas Hewitt

You and Luda sat in the kitchen knitting things for the baby that’s on the way.

“Y/N, would you be a dear and check on the pie?” Luda politely inquired.

“Of course!” You opened the oven to check, but the pie wasn’t fully done, so you reset the timer for about 5 minutes.

You took your seat back, and continued knitting your baby blanket. Luda stood up, and started cleaning the counters and washing the dishes used to make the cherry pie.

Faint scrambling and screaming could be heard coming from the basement, but you just turned on the small radio and continuing knitting zigzags into the blankets design.

Until someone managed to scramble their way to the first floor, scrambling through the living room, and then the kitchen.

“You two! Hey! You have to help me!” The man pleaded, “He’s trying to kill me down there!”

The man pointed down in the basement, and Luda looked at him unimpressed. She was sneaking her way to find something to hit the person with without being detected, but the man grabbed onto your hand and tried pulling you with him.

“Please! You have to listen to me; he’s going to kill me—then he’s going to kill you too!” He sobbed, ripping you from your chair at the small table.

“I—” You didn’t get a chance to respond or call for help before the man pulled you outside and down the wooden steps.

“Tommy!” You hear Luda Mae call out, “They’re trying to take Y/N!”

About two minutes later, Thomas ran through the door, his chainsaw rumbling with a seething rage. Within a minute, your captor was mowed down by Thomas, who then dropped the (now off) chainsaw, and spun you in the air with his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.

That night, Thomas made you a warm bath and you enjoyed a cool cup of sweet tea while you got to munch on the pie you and Luda made from earlier.

💜Brahms Heelshire

It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and you were waiting for Malcolm to bring groceries to the house for you and Brahms—who was hiding upstairs, waiting for your okay to come out.

You sat in the living room, sipping on your favorite hot beverage while rereading a book you started, but haven’t finished.

Faint knocking could be heard from the front door, so you placed your book and drink down, and peeled through the door.

Malcom finally arrived; which means Brahms can come out soon!

“Afternoon, Malcolm!” You gave a small smile with your greeting, which dropped when you saw the man who delivers Brahms and your groceries arrived empty handed.

“Malcolm wh—” You were cut off by his quick ramblings.

“Y/N, you have to get out of here,” He quickly blurted out, “Brahms is alive; he-he’s been living in the walls!”

Mentally, you rolled your eyes. You knew this, obviously—he is your partner after all.

“What do you mean?” You faked concern, even though you had a feeling you knew how this would end.

The grocery boy would enter, prohibited to leave; his fate sealed past the front door.

“Brahms—I SAW him, Y/N.” He huffed, pacing in a nervous circle.

“I think you’re just seeing things, Malcolm. I live here, don’t you think I’d know if he’s here? Wouldn’t I have seen or heard him?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, trying your best to gaslight him into leaving you and Brahms alone.

He grasped your hand, “If you refuse to believe it, I have no choice. We’re getting out of here and somewhere safe.”

Little did he know, Brahms was watching the whole interaction. And boy is he pissed.

He snuck out through one of the walls, and approached Malcolm from behind.

“Y/N,” He whined, walking towards where Malcom had a grip on your wrist, “Don’t go.”

“Get him Brahms!” You cried, ripping your arm away from Malcolm and backing away.

Brahms quickly gripped Malcolm’s neck, squeezing so hard his poor face turned a blueish purple from the lack of oxygen due to Brahms’ rage.

As soon as Malcom’s body felt limp, Brahms ran towards your slightly nervous form, nuzzling his masked face into your neck, whimpering softly while rubbing your belly.

🩷Poly! Ghostface

You laid sprawled out upon the bed that the three of you shared, watching nostalgic horror movies. Your phone wasn’t too far from your reach due to the boys needing a ride later.

As if on cue, said device started ringing with Stu’s ringtone.

“Hey, babe!” You perked up, “You need me to come scoop you guys up?”

“Mhm-ow!” The sound of slapping could be heard on your end, and Stu groaned over the phone.

“Hi cutie,” Billy snatched the phone from Stu, “Seems nobody’s here. Can you come get us now?”

“Absolutely!” You beamed before hanging up, running to your car, and starting it.

Once you got to the location they sent you, you pulled into the driveway, turned your lights off, and parked the car.

With few lights lit in the house, you could only make out one figure running around in the dark rather than two. Nonetheless, you brushed it off due to how dim the house was, and you turned your music back up, rubbing your hand over the slight bump.

The figure snuck out of the house, and knocked on the window of the car.

“Are you their ride, bitch?” She sneered, “I overheard those fuck-faces on the phone talking about a ride.”

You tried to lock the doors, which you left unlocked for the boys, but the assailant was faster to open the door. She tried to rip you out of the car as you covered yourself up for defense, both not realizing the seatbelt was on.

“Billy!” You screamed out, “Stu, help please!”

The stranger retracted their fist to hit you, but was pulled back by Billy’s grip, before he plunged a knife into her. She glared at you as she tried to hit Stu who blocked her path, gladly taking a turn stabbing her in the ribs.

They dropped her, and both huddled around you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheek while their hands hold your baby bump.

jealous slashers~!✧

With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman

tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included

Alexa, play Love to Die by the Slashstreet Boys

Michael

Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.

Brahms

Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.

"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.

Jason

As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.

Billy & Stu

Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.

"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.

Vincent

There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.

But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.

"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"

Bo

Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.

"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.

Lester

Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.

A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."

Thomas

Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.

Sal Fisher

Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.

Patrick

A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."

Brahms finding out about the mating press and pile driver and being feral about getting you in those positions to be as deep as he possibly can. Has to make sure you feel his cock hit your cervix and that you'll always remember you belong with him 💖

I'm screaming into my pillow from imagining this!

A'ight anon. You've given me a bit of inspiration to write a short for this~😘

And I've found the perfect gif as well 😩🫣 !

~

Disfrutando

The Boy Drabble

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Brahms Heelshire x Female Reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: NSFW, Dark smut, dubious consent, overstimulation, mating press, large cock, creampie, Brahms loves your pussy ) 🖤❤️

A mess of sweat and tears, you were too numb to feel the firm hands grabbing onto your ankles.

A grunt of displeasure left you when you were dragged near the edge of the bed, your hair spreading out like a halo on the dirty sheets and your arms splayed out on either side of you. You were so drained and everything ached. Keeping your eyes open was proving to be a difficult task as they kept fluttering closed due to your exhaustion.

The same hands that had pulled you then gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your thoroughly bred pussy to the man responsible for such a debauched display.

Cringing at the fluid leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs but groaned at the pain shooting throughout your body from the action. A calloused hand was quick to rub your flushed cheek, causing you to close your eyes and sigh from the comfort it provided.

Just as you started to doze off, Brahms shifted your position, your mind too clouded with post-sex bliss to register the tenseness of his body above yours. Your vision was foggy for a moment, the pleasure you were subjected to moments before blurring the image of the masked man on top of you. When your knees were suddenly pushed to your shoulders, you yelped at the painful ache in your muscles.

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, unable to formulate words to question what he was planning. When you felt the blunt tip of his cock press against you, your eyes flew open in alarm.

"B-Brahms! You-?!" Slapping your hands on his firm stomach, you pushed against him. There was no way you could go another round. The ache in your lower extremities left you with no desire to further bruise your swollen insides.

Brahms didn't budge in the slightest, merely tilting his head at your attempts to stop him. A gleam in his eyes shook you, panic settling in when he positioned himself in a squat position of top of you.

"We don't need to-!" Your words ended in a gasp, Brahms quickly ramming his thick cock inside your inflamed pussy before you could protest. The audible squelch of the penetration was absolutely filthy, your mind paying no mind to the sound as it was overtaken by the sensation of being split open once more.

A guttural groan left him, his head tilting back and body shuddering from the decadent pressure of your walls encasing his thick girth.

You could only babble out nonsense, the words lost to you as you felt the delicious stretch of your walls encompassing his thick dick. Brahms pulled out just a few inches, strings of arousal following his retreat, before viciously thrusting forward with an audible plap. Your moans fueled his drive, Brahms slamming his hips down with more force to have you screaming for him. You cried out sweetly at the rough pace he set, your nails digging into his forearms from the brutality of his dick fucking into you.

"I lo-lov…" Brahms stuttered out the words, eyes rolling back when you squeezed hard enough to make him delirious. "I love…ngh!..you!"

~

~

Ready or not

Brahms Heelshire X Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

The sound of his shoes echoes off the walls; he’s getting closer. You press your hand tighter against your mouth, desperate to silence your breathing. Your heart hammers against your ribs as he opens the door.

You see his shoes, standing in the doorway just a few feet away. You squeeze your eyes shut as he makes his way across the room, walking closer to the bed. You hold your breath, muscles taut, ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice.

He stops just short of the bed, his shoes so close you could reach out and touch them. Then, suddenly, he moves towards the closet instead. You relax slightly, grateful you chose under the bed. Now, all you can do is hope he leaves.

Your hopes are quickly dashed when you feel his warm hand wrap around your ankle, yanking you out from beneath the bed. A scream rips through you at the action.

It’s quickly silenced however when he smashes his lips against yours. The kiss steals your breath away and as soon as you feel yourself melting into him he pulls away. 

“Found you” he chuckles against your face, breath ghosting your lips. He always finds you no matter your hiding space. Yet when it was your turn to seek him you can never find him. 

“I almost had you” you teased back, a large smile adorned your face. You never hid that hard. If Brahams couldn’t find you, you're sure he would panic.

“Want to play again?” 

“How about Tag?” he agreed almost instantly.

Brahms always has a soft spot in my heart

Brahms x Gender Neutral Reader - Will You Stay With Me?

A lil something I wanted to write after seeing a prompt on this site where the OP wondered what would have happened if Brahms showed himself by accident because he was so sick (if you know the post, pls tag the OP cause I can’t seem to find it, 

title from the song  Jordy Chandra - Will You Stay With Me ?

Hope you enjoy! 

You have been babysitting Brahms the Doll for around three months now. Of course, in the beginning it was strange to treat the doll like a human child, but the sad eyes of the Heelshires pulled at your heart strings. Not wanting to take advantage of the grieving couple, you swore to treat Brahms like your own. 

 It was a rough start admittedly, with his cold dead eyes creeping you out. You didn’t really try very hard to stick to the schedule the Heelshires left for you, but when your things started going missing and the doll started moving on its own, you began to suspect that maybe you weren’t alone in the house. 

 The temperature dropped significantly in the winter months, and due to not being allowed to light the fireplace, the entire manor was freezing. Luckily you packed some warmer clothes since you knew the UK got very cold in the winter. There weren’t any issues with plumbing or anything thankfully, but you did spend most of your time wrapped in as many layers as you possibly could. 

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Sweetness of little space, need more of this that isn't being sexualized. Might write some, as I have a Poly!Ghostface in the making

‘Movie Night’ !SFW! Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Contains: Little Space Comfort, Brahms in Little Space

Requested by Anonymous on Wattpad

“Of course Mrs. Heelshire. Enjoy your night!” you called as you watched the old couple happily get into a car from the front steps of their home. You couldn’t deny that the couple had been looking much happier as opposed to when you first arrived.

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I need more-

Gentle Touch

Brahms Heelshire x M!Reader

Last Edited: June 16, 2021 11:00 PM

TW: slight praising

Anon: I love your fics so much, could i request a brahms x male reader where y/n has usher syndrome? y/n being deaf–blind and being the older brother of brahm's nanny, maybe moves with her for the job, and gains the attention of brahms? really need some bromantic fluff <33

Tags: none

You loved Erla, you really did, but there were times when she annoyed you. You couldn’t blame her for trying to help you constantly but it really got on your nerves. She was always treating you like you were glass; some fine china that needed to be cared for every second of the day. It was why you didn’t want to go with her to the UK. You had known that she would keep you attached to her hip at all times but at the same time, there was Dündar. Dear ol’ Dündar. An abusive asshole is who he was and is. You hated his guts more than anyone else’s. You guessed you could say that going to the UK was a new start; a new start for both of you.

You have been staying at the Heelshire mansion for a while; maybe 6 months now? You were unsure since you couldn’t really tell the time or know what day it was due to your condition. Well, you would know if Erla was to tell you. Though she never told you anything. All she ever did was lead you around or leave you alone to your own world.

From what little information you knew, you were with Erla in the UK and babysitting a child. Or... Well… A small porcelain child replaced the dead child. Either way, you didn’t mind. A porcelain doll wouldn’t run around you, make fun of the Usher Syndrome, or try to ask you questions about it when you could only answer them through braille and sign language; you doubted the child would have even known those two.

You had hearing aids but you didn’t use them all the time. You only used them to listen to music or to listen to the television. You don’t keep them in all the time since you don’t really want to. Well, it’s more of the fact that Erla’s voice is high pitched and slightly annoying, not saying everyone’s voice like that is but her’s is just terrible. You’d rather sign and read braille than hear her talk. You had to put in your hearing aids when you met the Heelshires but you enjoyed their voices. They were a lot better than your younger sister’s.

The story about losing their son was sad but replacing him with a doll? It was slightly uncomfortable. Erla had no problem about it though. The moment the Heelshires left, she ditched the doll and did her own thing. You didn’t want to leave the doll though. You couldn’t really do most of what needed to be done, but you could keep it with you. Besides, the little fellow felt cute, despite being made of cold porcelain and being slightly heavy.

Maybe that’s why the man in the walls was attracted to you. You kept the doll with you and tried your best to follow whatever rules you could. Today was the rare occasion you had your hearing aids in. You weren’t listening to the television or listening to music. You wanted to listen to your footsteps, the random creaks from inside the walls, and the distant sounds of Erla talking on the phone with her significant other. You didn’t care who they were, just as long as they made her happy. You are her older brother, and who are you to deny her any happiness? Besides, you can’t be stuck with her forever.

The doll keeps you company as you walk around the mansion. You have no destination in mind as you walk into a room. With how cold the room is, you already know it’s the kitchen. You place the doll down on a chair, gently tucking the chair in. Despite not being able to see, you can still feel, smell, and taste. And that’s all you need when you cook. You start getting your ingredients; you feel and smell every ingredient you grab, making sure it’s the one you want. When you’ve collected all your ingredients, you start to make dinner.

It’s a small dinner with a basic fruit salad and spaghetti with meatballs. You prepare everything with gentle hands, making sure that when you cut the fruit into smaller pieces, you don’t accidentally nick yourself. The salad is the first thing you finish before moving on to the spaghetti. You keep in mind to make enough for three people: you, Erla, and Brahms.

You hear the walls creak again, but you may not mind it. That is until you hear something opening. You don’t look up though and pretend you didn’t hear anything. You can hear quiet footsteps approaching you from behind. Despite how quiet they are, you can tell that the person must be heavy or at least tall; maybe even both. Their breathing seems to be heavy as they approach you.

You keep busy, not leaving the other person know you know about them being there. You freeze up when you feel a Gentle Touch on your hip. You don’t move away though, leading to the person slowly wrapping around your waist. “[Redacted]?” You hear a boy’s voice behind, not matching the large figure that is now pressed against you. “[Redacted]... I finally get to touch you… [Redacted]...” The voice sounds like the one on the phone. Or the one Erla has told you about. You never answer the phone since you never seem to have your hearing aids in when the calls happen. You give him a small hum of acknowledgment, unsure of who he is. Your answer is soon answered by the man.

“Do you like little me? Mommy said he was always so perfect…” You feel a mask(?) told the top of your head. It’s cold and sends a small shiver down your spine. You don’t want to anger him so you simply shake your head. “No..? Does that mean you like me more?” The boy voice being used slightly unsettles you but you’re sure there’s a reason for it; there’s always a reason for everything. You give him a nod as you finish up dinner.

“I knew you were the one… Mommy and Daddy said she was but I hate her. She doesn’t listen to the rules… But you try… You try to,” You hear him take in a deep inhale, his made face still buried in your hair. “You even make me meals, [Redacted]... You’re such a good boy… A nice boy… My beautiful boy…” He sighs out, the child voice still not fitting with his words. His arm around your waist tightens before he seems to force himself to let go. “Be good and don’t tell Erla about this…” You hear a plate and bowl be taken off the counter before his footsteps fade away.

“So! What’s for dinner, [Redacted]? Smells nice!” Erla says suddenly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, making you flinch.

Horror fanfictions are my bedtime stories. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Slasherhaven’s Masterlist

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Brahms x reader: soft days (??? Idk how to title)

Just some random rambelings because my head won't shut up about it and I have the attention span of a goldfish so I can't finish the art works I have

(ノ｀⌒´)ノ┫：・┻┻. ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽

Your soapy hands were softly massaging Brahms scalp, who is at the moment sheepishly splashing around the water scattering the toys in the bathtub. It was a slow and lazy day, the sun slowly going down and decorating the sky with a beautiful mixture of red, yellow and pink.

You were taking care of the real Brahms for almost 5 months and even tho so much time has passed, those soft and quiet moments were still rare. No temper tantrum, no sexual advances or jealousy because the grocery boy talked one minute longer then normally to you.

Just peace and quiet.

You carefully washed out the shampoo out of his wild and soft locks and gave him a tender kiss on his forehead making him giggle in his child voice.

Closing your tierd eyes as a hand carefully kneaded his shoulder, listening to the rain tapping on the roof.

"(Y/N), the water is getting cold"

A familiar voice sayd, you looked down, seeing your partner already gathering the toys and put them out of the tub. You hummed lightly, pulling the plug and watching the water slowly drain out.

You stepped aside making room for your boyfriend as his lanky and well build form clumsy dragged himself out, his eyes already fixated to the porcelain mask laying on the sink and reaching out.

While he was occupied with drying himself, you wrapped the colorful toys in a towel and putting them in a plastic box.

Brahms refused to take a bath if there weren't any of his favorite play things around and you definitely didn't have the nerve to walk up and down the stairs to get all his toys, so instead you organized a box and gave Brahms the option to put a few in there for bath time.

Being so lost in thought you didn't realize that your lover had already dressed himself in his pajamas, only coming back into reality when your he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and he gave you a gentle kiss on the neck.

He handed you the already plugged in blow dryer.

It didn't took long until his bird nest that he calls hair dryd. Brahms already shuffleing to the bedroom.

But he had to wait, the bathroom needed to be cleaned up first, it didn't even took a minute when you heard Brahms whining and calling your name wanting to be tucked into bed and getting his goodnight kiss.

A small giggle escaped your lips, it was kind of endearing and cute how this grown man wanted to be taken care of, yearning your tender touches and words of love.

Finally finished with your task you quickly walked into the bedroom, Brahms was siting on the edge of the bed holding his doll tight to his chest.

He gave a quite hum of approval when you finally tuck him in, his dark brown eyes looking at you lovingly, memorizing every inch of your face and the soft, warm smile it holds.

He maeby rarely says how much he appreciates your presence but there is no need for that. The way he looks at you, making small hand made gifts and those wonderful moments when he wisphers those wonderful words that make your heart skip a beat is prove enough.

You gave him his good night kiss and went out of the door, or at least that was your plan. His rough hands held your wrist, his thumb massaging circles into your skin.

"Stay"

The child voices asked, his real voice cracking cracking into the word at the end.

You nodded and placed yourself next to him under the cover.

Brahms snuggled himself next to you.

Slowly drifting of into dream world you still managed to pick up a few words

"I-I love you (Y/N)"

A nanny to replace with someone new part 1

Brahms x transman/transmasc reader

Please take my writing privilege away when it's past midnight

There arnt any trigger warnings here and at the moment no gendered words or pronouns is used! I guess there is a bit of queer coding(???) if you squint but nothing to serious or specific

Your phone vibrated with a new message send to you. Scrambling it out of your pants with hasty and shaking fingers while the other hand tryd it's best to not let the travel suitcases fall on the floor. Giving it a quick glance your lips curled into a smile, it was your best friend asking how the flight into the UK was.

So you gave her a quick message on how you got the worst seat imaginable. The guy next to you constantly gave you weird glances, he tryd to be sneaky about it, looking at your way when he thought you were asleep or occupied with something else. The smell that receded from him wasn't pleasant either, betting your left arm that he didn't shower for at least 3 weeks straight.

A few seats away was a couple that constantly started a loud argument with each other about the most random and unimportant things imaginable. When the fly attended tryd to calm them down the whole scenario got even more chaotic, making a kid that was another few seats away cry loudly. You would feel bad for the child if it wasn't for your enormous migraine building up. The only good thing out of the situation was when a bag of salted snacks got accedntly thrown to your way, giving you a free extra snack.

As you clicked send an announcement made it's self know with loud static noises. The train had a one hour delay. At this point your nerves were on edge. With a heavy sigh you walked out of the airport to the underground, at least there was now some time to look at the airport stores. Buying a few snacks here and there and seeing the cute souvenirs lighten up your mood a bit, and you even found a pharmacy!

Munching at your last chocolate bar and swallowing the pill for your migraine as you clumsily walked down the stairs to the subway, you eyes skimmed for a clock, and there it was, old and a bit rusty but it worked just fine showing that it's currently 7:43 pm.

'20 more minutes'

you thought, as you gave it a quick glance with a groggy look,

'Might as well give her a quick text'

•hey,sophie the train has a delay probably will come in like an hour late if everything goes well.

It took a few minutes until she texted you back

▪︎Yea I already thought that, can't have shit in public transport >:/

•yea,,, so,,, how is the babysitting going? Is the kid as bad as the last one you took care of???

▪︎Nope! How should it when it's a doll :)

•....

....

....

a what???

▪︎A doll! It's one of those weird porcelain ones that look like a small child. It's even live sized! I was already weirded out that a couple this old would have small children of their own but that? A whole new level of weird

•,,,,what are you doing with it????

does it just hang around or do you actually take care of it??

As you waited for an answer another announcement was made, the train that should come in now 15 minutes should be here earlier.

You would have made a small victorious smile if the question didn't come crashing down like an avalanche.

Why do they keep it? Why do they need a babysitter when it's just a doll? Why is it live sized? And most importantly, how in the fresh fuck did they managed to let the train come earlier the thought. While being lost in your mind with questions your phone took you back into reality when it vibrated.

▪︎Nope! I just let it sit in the corner, sometimes I put a towel or blanket over it. It's stare is really fucking creepy....

•oh,,, so free money I guess, pretty cool.

hey sophie what was the name of the family??

Something with shire right??

Chestershire??

▪︎Heelshire, why do you ask?

•just out of curiosity, maeby there is an article about them and the doll.

i mean they are a well know family so I can imagine there is something out there about them. also my train is coming later then planned.

they made an announcement that it should come earlier the thought but,,, I think I won't come over today for the sleepover, I'm just too tired, sorry for the late cancelation

▪︎It's fine (Y/N)! You had a shitty flight so I can understand that! So we see us tomorrow :) ?

•ye

▪︎Awesome, can't wait to show you the creepy doll!

And with that the chat ended, your train already making a big entrance with the loud hald of it's heavy metallic wheels.

You took the suitcase back into your hands and tumbled your way into the train.

Looking around, you accepted defeat that there was no seat left for you, your mood slowly dipping from tired annoyance to about to having a small fit. But that wouldn't help your progress, so you swallowed your anger down and leaned to one of the metallic poles. Wobbling a bit from left to right and needing to catch your suitcase to not let it roll over a passengers feet as the train started moving again.

You grabbed your phone, hesitating for a bit

'Do I really want to know what the fuck is going on or???'

You just shrugged your shoulders and gave it a go, the heelshire family is a rich pompous family you're sure there is something about them on the internet.

Aaaaand you were right, it didn't even took a second when hundreds of articles pooped up with dramatic headlines.

Terrible fire at the Heelshire mansion

Mysterious fire in Heelshire property

Heelshire, how their live turned quickly into a nightmare

These were the few that caught your interest.

You gave the articles quick reads, your tired eyes switching between almost falling shut from tiredness and going wide at the gruesome details on the tragedy.

Well that gives you a few indications on why they keep it.

'It's probably some kind of coping mechanism....'

You don't really see yourself as someone who's heart gets torn apart everytime you hear a sad and tragic story, but you still can't shake the heaviness off it all, a family losing their only child in an enormous fire that up to this day nobody knows were it came from.

Too keep your mind off the whole thing you looked outside, still having a bitter expression of the new info as you admired the houses.

It looks like your heading towards a more suburban area, making it look like one of your old English telenovela that you watch every now and then.

As the sun slowly goes down and engulfing the area in beautiful colors was quite a bit breathtaking, infact so breathtaking that you almost missed your station.

In a moment of panic you pushed yourself out of the train almost dropping a few things in it, but luckily you had everything with you.

With lazy steps towards a billboard your eyes scanned the map for the area, the bus stop wasn't far away, just a few minutes walk, but your heavy arms slowly giving up and your feet starting to hurt didn't really help.

You got your headphones out in hopes that listening to your favorite music makes the whole thing a bit more bearable.

Even tho it was just a tiny bit left until you arrived at your destination, somehow everything went wrong one way or another. You almost missed the bus and then one of it's tire pooped, making you wait for the next one that came in like half an hour.

Then one of your water bottles wasn't closed properly making some of your stuff soaked in it, destroying your notes, drawings and a few comics you had with you in the process.

When you arrived in the small but cozy hotel a woman had a giant fight with the manager. One of her kids didn't stop bothering you with weird and uncomfortable questions about your appearance. While the other didn't keep their grabby hands off of you. Then when she finally finished her rant on how the room service didn't left a small piece of chocolate for her children like always, she had the audacity to give you a 'tch' when she walked passed you with a slightly disgusted expression. The manager and her assistant apologized for the inconvenience and offerd you some candy as a sorry gift for the inconvenience, you don't want to sound like a glutton, but it did make you forget about the whole thing for a bit.

Finally you managed to get your keys. On the way to your room you almost dropped all your stuff becoming a clumsy mess that just wants to sleep.

As you opend the door impatiently you more or less threw your stuff on the chairs and floor quickly unpacked your pajamas and hastily puting them on. Dropping your body on the softest bed you ever were able to sleep in like a rock. To say that you were happy to finally be here is taking things way to lighty. With a happy sigh you closed you eyes for the well deserving sleep.

Avrage day (Brahms x reader)

It's almost 3 am while writing this and I crave for soft Brahms story, pure fluff and I also didn't prove read it for any errors or something similar

The clock hits 6 am and the alarm started to pull you out of your wonderful dream by it's awful screeching noises. With a groan you toss and turned a bit until you admit defeat, with a heavy sigh you pull yourself out of the comfortable and warm bed into the cold called your room. Normally it would have been at least a bit warm but Brahms somehow managed to damage the heater while crawpe through the wall.

You stretch your back and arms while slowing walking up to Brahmses room. The door squeaked a bit, you're eyes look at the still sleeping form of Brahms slightly snoring a bit. You always checked on him every morning if everyone is alright, with a soft smile you close the door and began to fish out your clothes for the day.

Your still tired body clumsily dragged you into the bathroom to make yourself fresh the morning sunlight already shining into the room.

As you finished to wash and clothed yourself the birds started to sing and it was soon time to wake up Brahms.

With the rest of the 15 minutes you quickly walked down to the kitchen and made the table ready for breakfast. Bread, butter, cheese, ham, orange juice, you counted to yourself if everything was there, with a nod you tuned on the stove to boil some eggs.

With that you happily walked up to Brahmses room and softly knocking on the door.

"Brahsm, it's time to wake up"

You sayd in a warm and soft tone.

The only response you got was a disgruntled grumble and the man you're taking care of turning his back on you. With a huff's you shoved the curtains aside and heard from behind how Brahms groand in agony as the warm sun shined on his face.

"It's time to wake up"

You sayd in a more demanding tone,

"Five more minutes..."

Brahms sayd in return, you put your hands on your hips and huffed with slight annoyance. He always says five more minutes, and out of those dives became 10 then 20 then 45 and then a hour, and after that he got mad that you woke him up so late.

You shaked your head and pulled the blanket off of Brahms who put a bit of a fight with it.

"You need to make yourself ready now, I already started to boil the eggs and if I wait any longer there is going to be a mess."

He only pouted a bit when he heard that sentence and slowly started to dramatically drag himself out of bed. With a smile you patted his and and got him some fresh clothes out of the drawer.

When all was done you got Brahmses hand and convoy him to the kitchen, since he still made his body heavier then it was and walked around like a puppet who's strings almost fall off of it.

But all that behavior quickly stopped when he sat at the table and got his breakfast.

You quickly were finished with yours and started to clean the dishes while Brahms lazily munched on his last sandwich.

"After you are brush your teeth and come back to play the piano, okay?"

He nodded while swallowing the last bite and quickly walked away.

Into the room with the pino you already picked out the piece he is learning at the moment and clipped it on the board. It didn't took long until the tall and lanky man joined you and took a seat.

The man was an incredibly talented player, his nibble and skilled fingers played the music with ease. No matter how many times you hear him play it impresses you each and every time. Actually when you think about it, he is generally a really talented man. He is amazing at playing the piano, his painting skills are remarkable and even if you don't hear him sing a lot his deep growly adult voice is just so wonderful to hear. He also learns quick, every new info Brahms get he will absorb it like a sponge. To bad that instead of using his talent for someone good and productive he rather use it to play a few pranks on you or cause mischief if he feels like it.

The time fly by fast, piano lessons were over and Brahms was finishing his school lession outstandingly well. So as a treat for working so well you told him you would read him 3 chapters more of his favorite novel. With small giddy jumps he walked up to you embracing your much smaller form in a tight hug. The cold and slightly cracked porcelain nose nuzzled its between your shoulder while your soft hands caressed his head softly.

You both placed yourself on the newly bought couch listening to the music Brahms choice for today. But it was clear that he was occupied with something else. The tall man snuggled tighter to your form and fought your fingers into yours, playing with them. He was way to caught up with your presence that he completely blacked out the music. Every now and then his big hand gave yours a small playful squeeze or his face burying its into the crook of your neck.

The little actions make you giggle slightly and your warm smile grew a bit wider when he asked if you could give him a kiss on the forehead. Normally you tell him kisses are only for goodnights but you let it slide just this once.

Brahms flaild his legs in excitment, small giggles escaping his mouth as you shower his face with kisses.

At noon it was Brahmses playtime. You already made yours comfortable on the floor watching the man gathering all his favorite toys out of the giant plastic box. His arms filled with all the goodies and his eyes sparkling with excitement he stumbled to your way on his knee's.

But he never was satisfied with one thing. Often times he asked you to bring out his painting utensils or clay to make small figure and since you finally brought modern electronics into the house he sometimes asked to play mario kart with you.

As time flew by faster then you liked, you told Brahms to bring back the toys into the box while you went off to make lunch. With a disappointed grunt he picked up his dolls and legos.

While you prepared today's lunch you heard how Brahms was shuffling around you curiously watching you. He sometimes in between the stares asked you what your doing right now or if he could help. Even though Brahms is still a spoiled man, he learns to appreciating the moments were you both cook together. He may not be the best at it but him trying his best was good end for you and it also warmed your heart when you watch him trying to cut the perfect slice just for you.

At 1 pm dinner was ready and the table ready.

"Thank you for cooking"

Sayd Brahms with a mouth full of food, you gave him a smile and thanked him back for helping. Too bad you won't get the same help when you need to clean the dishes.

As you both place the dirty dishes into the sink and put the rest of the meal into a container. The lanky man quickly hide back into the wall to do god knows what. You never know what exactly he does there, sometimes you hear him crawl betwen the tight spaces or he gives you a vague answer when you ask. But what you know is that he needs is time alone and even if you're dying of curiosity you respect his privacy and don't want to invade it. So you dry the last plate and start to clean the house.

When the old grandfather clock striked 4:50 pm you were surprised that you didn't heard anything from Brahms, infact you didn't even hear hims shuffle inside the walls. You knew that the worst case scenario is him falling asleep between the walls but because it is so out of character for the man you still worried slightly. When you stuffed that bit of dirty clothes into the washer and your eyes staring at the clock that was now showing 6:00 pm you decide to call out his name.

And you called, and called, and called, but there was no answer the dumb side of your brain told you that Brahms slipped and bit his head on som6hard and is now hirting on the floor. But as your anxiety grew more and more it quickly got shut down as it came when you felt two strong arms hugging you from behind and the comfortable warmth of the wall gremlin.

"I hope I did not worry you too much"

A child voice sayd, before you could answer you got silenced rather fast when the man held something close to your face. It was a necklace, it looked like it was made by hand, here and there were a few rough and sloppy edges but you definitely could recognize that someone more skillful made it.

"Is-is this form me?"

With big eyes you looked at Brahms who nodded shyly

"It's a thanks for taking care of me"

He carefully placed it around your neck and hocked the ends together. You almost jumped out of your socks out of joy and gratification. Your arms embraced Brahms in a big hug softly swaying each others body from left to right and giving him small kisses. His soft snorts and giggles only spurt you even more on in drowning him in your affection.

As the clock hit 7:00 you both were already finished with dinner and making yourselfs ready for the night. But it was still a bit to early so you took the liberty to snuggle yourself next to Brahms playing with his brown locks as you listen to him whisper small words of affection towards you.

The older man shifted a bit and pulled the book from the night table to you,

"Can you please read the story for me now? You promised to give me 3 extra chapters and if you don't start now if will be to late!"

His child voice pointed out you gave him a last kiss on the forehead and took the book.

As you spoke out the sentences you didn't noticed hof Brahms slowly but surely feel asleep only his almost not noticeable snores alerted you to his sleeper form. You wanted to wiggle out of the bed but the man had a death grip on you, so instead you lays the book aside and turned off the lights also softly falling into dream land awaiting the next day.

I have an addiction to putting the most cold hearted, anti social, sociopaths into the cutest fluffiest scenarios

I would have both, please!

POV: you’re getting dicked down against the wall by the local british rat king