Brahms Heelsire X Reader - Tumblr Posts
THE BOY 2016
random doodle with
Brahms x Anon
Brahms x Reader Headcanons
This takes place after you find out he’s a grown man lol (but you don’t kill him of course)
• There aren’t any romantic feelings at first just because you’re still interested in Malcom, but you can decide if you guys have a falling out or if you just lose interest lol.
• It might take a bit to convince him to do house chores as well, as he’s lived his whole life in the walls and just has the mindset of “people have always done it for me, why stop now??”
• If you ever get mad at him, he’d probably try and finish all the house tasks before you get a chance to just so there’s now a reason for you to not be mad at him.
• He still likes to stay in the walls quite often, like a safe space for him.
• At the start, he used to get really overwhelmed by being out for so long, so you’d sit and comfort him for as long as possible. This just made him fall for you harder.
• He loves to cuddle in bed. He’s been touch starved so long, he just wants a warm bed and a warm embrace for hours on end ☹️💔
• Sometimes the closeness is never enough for him, like he just needs to be as close to you as possible. It’s not enough until he is literally molding into you, like angler fish lmao. If this makes you uncomfortable, he will back off but it will be a bit hard for him.
• He can definitely be demanding and sometimes very selfish, you may unfortunately have to still treat him like a child. I bet naughty corners would still work tbh… make sure you set clear boundaries and speak up for yourself.
• Although it’s definitely understandable if you were afraid to stand up for yourself, we already know he’s willing to hurt you and those that you love just to make sure you’d stick around.. I’m not gonna lie, it would actually probably be helpful to learn at least a bit of self defence in case he ever does try to put his hands on you. I’m sure even being strong enough to hold him in a head lock would scare him enough to back off and respect you more.
• This man does not gaf about body types or anything, he loves em all! Lean, muscular, chunky, curvy, slender, average- anything and he loves it!! He just wants someone to take care of him
• His immune system would probably be on the border of decent and not very good. He’s lived his life in the walls which is certainly not clean and nurturing space, but he also hasn’t really gotten out enough to get sick or hurt himself. Obviously he had a life before being forced into hiding, but he did spend like a decade tucked away. Would probably help you to get him vaccinated lol. ANYWAYS my point is, he might get sick fairly often, especially if you do actually start bringing friends and family over and you get to have an actual job. He would LOVE to have you coddle him. Tuck him right into bed, make him hot soup, coo over him, etc.
• Just because you would hate to be stuck at home with him all day I’m sure, you set some boundaries and convince him that he will be okay if you apply for jobs or go out to get materials and such for your own job if you work from home. And you should absolutely have the right to bring friends and family over now that he’s no longer a doll. This might upset him for a while, but you both come up with ways to make this arrangement comfortable for you.
• He compliments you all the time. You makeup, outfit, hair, posture, ideas, expression, the way you look when stretching or exercising, your interests- anything and everything!
• He will make small crafts for you as gift, mostly paper. He may even learn some origami for you with a book he found. He’s a bit shy when gift giving so he’ll leave it in a spot he knows you will find it and go somewhere else to hide and watch your reaction.
• He might be a bit shy to try new foods, but if he knows that you really enjoy them, it might encourage him a bit. He would love to indulge in your own culture more, so he would be less timid about trying traditional foods from your cultural background!
———————-
I know this one is kinda shit, I was struggling to think of things that I haven’t already seen other creators write before and I did NOT want to steal peoples ideas 😭😭
Masterlist
Taking Care of Brahms’ Wounds
Brahms Heelshire Oneshot
You often spent an hour or a few in the afternoon reading, and that is exactly what you were doing when a soft knock sounded just above your head. You turned around and gazed at the full body mirror attached to the wall adjacent to the bed. The mirror rattled lightly before being gently pushed to the side, a hand wrapping its fingers around the metallic runes of a mirror frame.
This was your and Brahms’ passage way between the house and the walls. It hadn’t been long since he first presented himself to you, so he still wasn’t totally comfortable leaving his safe spots. His head poked through the wall, his eyes glinting with tears behind the broken mask. Immediately you stood up and briskly walked towards him.
“Oh Brahms, what’s happened? Why do you look so upset?”
He climbed through the wall and used his non-dominant hand to ease the mirror back into place. You took his right hand into yours and gasped, blood splotching everywhere. The skin was red and puffy, and he winced every time his fingers twitched.
“How did this even happen?”
He shrugged. So useful.
“Okay… So what did you cut yourself on? Metal? Glass? Plastic? What?” You guided him out of the room and safely down the stairs. It took him a while to answer. That could’ve meant he was trying to think of the right thing to say, or he was summoning a lie.
“Porcelain,” he spoke quietly, his voice slightly muffled under the material. Standing at the kitchen sink, he placed his fingers under the tap and you turned the water onto a warm temperature. He slowly eased his hand under the stream, his hand jolting in discomfort. “You cut your hand on the mask? It doesn’t look that sharp. Were you running around with it or something?”
That was your attempt to make some humour or light of the situation. You very much didn’t believe him. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was certainly a concern. You sat him down at the dining room table and raced for the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinets. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
You took out a disinfectant cream and spread the cold substance just around the cut. Brahms jerked his hand away but you were quick to pull it right back. He huffed in anguish. Clearly this wasn’t the only thing upsetting him. “Chill out, I’m helping you.”
You quickly wrapped a bandage around his coarse palms and stapled it off with clips. He flexed his hand with a mesmerised look in his eyes, admiring the love that may or may not have been put into that procedure. He still doesn’t fully read social cues or facial expressions, but at this point just let him believe what he wants.
You slumped back in your seat, smiling softly. “Soooo. What actually happened? It definitely wasn’t your mask.”
He rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his free hand, his elbow creaking into the mahogany table. “I was angry,” his voice was gruff and deep. You nodded, remembering the little argument you had earlier.
You told him that if he wanted to practice proper hygiene, he would need to start showering daily, or at least every 2-3 days. You even offered to let him shower with you so he wouldn’t have to be alone the whole time. But being told what to do must have really pissed him off. Maybe you had been bossing him around too much lately.
“So, out of anger, you broke something? What did you break?”
He gulped. His face shied away as he muttered something. You leaned closer, grinning. “Sorry bub, what was that?”
“The mirror!” he growled in a hushed voice.
He was talking about the vanity mirror in his hide out spot. It was taken out of his mother’s room after her deliberate passing. Your heart broke for him. To comfort him, you opened your arms for a hug and he leaned forward. Your hands wrapped around him and rubbed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one. Just like it, as if it never left.”
His posture loosened in your embrace as you said that - he knew you meant it.
“Do you want me to kiss your hand to make the pain feel better?” His face lifted and you watched the smile appear in his eyes as he chuckled. You brought his bandages hand to your lips and kissed all over his knuckles and fingers and the back and palm of his hand. The skin was soft yet gravelly; somehow warm and cold at the same time.
You both say there for a little while, just sort of hugging it out. Moments like these weren’t too common, but that never made them uncomfortable memories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Masterlist
Writing Requests !!
Hello! I'm Vee and I'd love to write for some spooky characters for spooky season ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚
Characters
Halloween (Rob Zombie) - Michael Myers
The Boy - Brahms Heelshire
American Psycho - Patrick Bateman
(I know there's not a lot of characters BUT I love them with all my heart so yuhhhh)
Prompts
I'm willing to write sfw, nsfw, angst and headcanons !!!!
The look of love (for writers)
Ideas to show secret pining
Inexperienced smut prompts
Kinktober 2024 Prompts
20 angsty romance prompts
These are linked only for if you're feeling stuck! If you have a personal request in mind, don't be afraid to ask!
Rules
Be polite and patient when submitting a request!! I do have a life and I cannot simply write 24/7.
I’m a freak ngl so a lot of prompts aren’t too far fetched for me, so don’t be scared! BUT if I DO believe that it goes against my limits, I just won’t respond to it !
saw your depictions on brahms and i love them !! Was wondering about brahms with a reader who talks to themself out loud a lot? like the most weirdest thoughts just running from their mouth : " just remembered that the ocean is probably filled with buckets of whale sperm -- oh, wonder what to cook for dinner 🤭 " or smth like that. thank you and take your time 💐
Ask and you shall receive.
Brahms with a reader who talks with/to themself
At first he thinks you're talking to someone in the mansion, which did throw him off because he never heard anyone enter through the old door. He sneaks to your location, and checks who might be with you through a peephole he made in the wall.
When he sees that there's no one there, he wonders what you were even talking about. So he decides to get closer.
You were talking about weird things like whale sperm? People saying "heads up" when you should duck? What?????
The moment you turn around, he's right there making you jump out of your skin. He tilts his head slightly at your reaction. After you scold him for scaring the life out of you, you ask him what he needs.
"You were talking, I thought someone was here."
"Oh, no. I just talk to myself rather often."
That answer made Brahms think. He never heard you talking to yourself before, even though you've already been taking care living with him for quite a while.
A few weeks later he has already listened to a few of your self talks he also thinks about the stuff you say.
"If you start counting from zero your lips won't touch until you reach 1 million."
What?? Maybe he actually tried it. Maybe he didn't. You will never know.
"Taking off your glasses to focus on thinking is the human version of lowering graphics to increase speed."
You shouldn't have said that, now he will annoy you for the next few days.
If you have glasses, he'll ask you a stupid/hard question just to see you take off your glasses and see you submit to his either stupid/heart question.
"If someone else has an awkward moment, I'll forget about it almost immediately. But if I have an awkward moment, I think about it constantly for years."
Okay, this one has a rather cuddly or naughty outcome.
Either he'll make sure that you only think about him by cuddling with you, talking to you etc.
Or he'll bring you to the bedroom, and make you think of something completely else.
"There You Are."
I hope this comes out clear, since it was a large file and all...
Just imagine...
Brahms Heelshire - Crack thoughts -
Imagine if the reader installed a bunch of Roomba robots around the mansion, cause you ain't gonna take the time to clean the ENTIRE mansion floor.
Brahms is just in the walls confused on what type of technology you have just brought into this mansion. Finally it's nighttime and you've fallen asleep Brahms scurries out of the walls like the rat he is to check what these little disks are.
When he sees these little disks just moving on their own; he's flabbergasted!
"Is this witch craft????"
Now imagine just a bunch of Roomba's just following Brahms cause this man is COVERED IN DIRT and is leaving a trail behind him. So now Brahms is just walking faster, which then turns into running as more Roombas follow him in pursuit.
Either that or he declares himself the King of Roomba's since they follow him like mini servants
Ok but like Brahms with a Latino s/o
The food is different from what he eats. (He may or may not like it who knows)
You play your own music and he's in the walls confused asf. ( I like the old classics like 'rata de dos patas', 'rosas', ect idk they have a special place in mah heart)
He finds your stories funny and interesting to listen to.
Doesn't know what you're saying/cursing in our language but he tries to learn. Please teach him your language. He would love to spend more time with you.
When the spooky month comes and you say some scary folklore or experiences you or your family have had with ghosts, demons, gnomes (duendes) , la llorona, shadow people, ect. Expect him to either be scared shitless and need to comfort him, find them very interesting and want to know more, or both.
Correcting him about information regarding you and your culture. (Cause lets be honest the info he knows is probably stereotypical/or outdated)
Getting him to actually start helping you around the fucking mansion.
If Brahms learns your language... PLEASE INTRODUCE HIM TO TELENOVELAS!! I promise you he is gonna get HOOKED ON THEM!! The passion, the drama, the story ARC!! Mans' been in the walls for 20 years. He would make it a new rule that every weekend you and him would sit together on the couch and enjoy some telenovelas.
Calling him cute nicknames :]
Munieco
Chulo
Cabron
Raton💀
(idk what else)
All in all he loves you and wouldn't replace you for anything or anyone in the world.
omgg he's soo cute (i want to peg him. i want to make him whimper. i want to edge him till he cries and begs me to cum)
hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!
Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)
thank you for requesting, anon!
reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo
there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag
this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
my slashers-only blog can be found here!
billy lenz
billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)
but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur
it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors
how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down
how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless
the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for
all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner
you were his dream-girl through-and-through
his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes
his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments
of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely
and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times
bo sinclair
although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame
it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that
tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in
god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group
but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)
his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation
and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before
in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home
but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)
brahms heelshire
you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny
you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up
you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family
but, to brahms, you were perfect
the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule
and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go
his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies
loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”
is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you
like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his
and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head
and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him
carrie white
carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl
everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed
god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness
tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to
those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)
those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes
those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above
and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you
how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass
how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole
you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible
jennifer check
you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well
date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup
she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on
she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”
will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv
gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though
50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice
loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner
buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times
she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken
makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to
michael myers (any)
initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else
you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you
and he did. for well over a month
even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up
but you never did
even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way
you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable
and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally
after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you
at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy
he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is
he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there
and you oblige
and he doesn’t hurt you
the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal
thomas hewitt
everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess
you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense
your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change
those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools
your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest
but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you
your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you
he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil
and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier
so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house
vincent sinclair
you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions
your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards
definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw
more artistically inspiring, barbie like even
it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently
but then your personality endeared you to him
you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart
hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)
and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum
even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks
you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto
all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose
it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company
and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to
so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum
and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)
"Slashers with an S/o who cries when people shout at them"
Warning: cursing and a bit of angst
Characters: Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire
Bo Sinclair
You and bo have fights but never to the point he yells or shouts at you. This time he was really angry because a victim escaped.
"I TOLD YOU TO WATCH THEM FOR ONE SECOND AND THEY ESCAPED, IT WAS THAT SIMPLE"
You bite your lip refusing to talk back as you lower your head until he is finished.
He sighed and made you look up at him. You were crying, big tears flow from your eyes as you looked at him. Your lips quivering and you looked away.
You both stood there until Bo broke and gave you a hug
It wasnt like those apology hugs your mom made you do to make up with your siblings
It was very sincere and tight
"I'm sorry doll, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you. " he whispered in your ear so soft and gentle.
He sat you both down while you're in his lap as he caresses your back. You both stayed there holding each other in your arms.
He told Lester to find the victim which he did and killed so it was problem solved.
From today on he never raised his voice when he got angry, you both communicated better and you two would make up pretty quickly.
If any of his brothers did the same to yell at you then he would be throwing hands
All in all he learned to be gentle with you which his brothers never ever thought he could do
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas already knew you cried when being shouted at
Hoyt was never really a good tempered person and will degrade your self esteem the chance he gets but you would suck the tears back up and wont let Thomas know what happened.
This time it was something different
"YOU FUCKING WHORE, ALL THE SHIT YOU DID WILL PASS THROUGH TOMMY BUT NOT ME"
You were shivering, Luda mae was not there to save you or beat this bitch and tommy was busy in the basement.
Hoyt raised a hand at you, as you squinted your eyes to brace yourself of the impact you hear..
"Aye tommy i-i was kidding.. hehe.. your little doll there was..AAAAA"
Tommy was standing in between you and hoyt , holding the man's hand back.
Tommy almost choked him to death if it werent for Luda Mae finally getting home.
Your boyfriend kept you in his arms like a baby as he rocks you.
He mumbles and grunts to give encouragement
He wont let anyone of his family yell nor harm you
Brahms Heelshire
You weren't the best of care takers. You always followed the rules so you wont anger Brahms.
But since Malcohlm was running late and you needed the groceries you have no choice but to go to the store
You planned to just have a quick trip so that when you come back Brahms wont even notice. But he did , he saw you walk out that gate.
Brahms is an impatient man, a minute of you gone it's been hours to him. But when you come back.
He stormed screaming at you
"YOU BROKE THE RULES, YOU DARE LEAVE ME ALONE LIKE MY PARENTS?! YOURE HORRIBLE "
You tried to explain yourself with incoherent mumbles as you shake. He towers over you going silent, Hes just looking at you!
You broke down and into a ball
Brahms started to feel bad, at least you came back for him.
He left you alone and slid your favorite snack over to you as he sits on the floor with you
In his childish voice he started to say sorry , patting your head gently
If you're both stuck in this house he might as well treat you better
He hugs you not letting go until you stopped crying
-Just a quick reminder that if you experience this in real life from a spouse its best to leave them, although fights are normal among relationships they shouldnt mistreat you either way💕
hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!
Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)
thank you for requesting, anon!
reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo
there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag
this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
billy lenz
billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)
but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur
it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors
how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down
how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless
the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for
all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner
you were his dream-girl through-and-through
his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes
his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments
of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely
and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times
bo sinclair
although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame
it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that
tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in
god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group
but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)
his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation
and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before
in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home
but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)
brahms heelshire
you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny
you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up
you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family
but, to brahms, you were perfect
the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule
and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go
his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies
loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”
is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you
like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his
and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head
and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him
carrie white
carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl
everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed
god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness
tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to
those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)
those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes
those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above
and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you
how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass
how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole
you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible
jennifer check
you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well
date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup
she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on
she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”
will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv
gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though
50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice
loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner
buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times
she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken
makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to
michael myers (any)
initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else
you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you
and he did. for well over a month
even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up
but you never did
even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way
you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable
and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally
after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you
at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy
he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is
he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there
and you oblige
and he doesn’t hurt you
the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal
thomas hewitt
everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess
you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense
your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change
those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools
your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest
but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you
your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you
he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil
and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier
so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house
vincent sinclair
you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions
your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards
definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw
more artistically inspiring, barbie like even
it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently
but then your personality endeared you to him
you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart
hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)
and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum
even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks
you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto
all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose
it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company
and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to
so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum
and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)
Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)
I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3
TW: no
Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair
P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.
Enjoy this!
Thomas Hewitt
The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.
You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.
You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.
It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.
After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.
Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.
"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."
You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.
"Hello?"
The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.
"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"
There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.
There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.
At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.
"Hi," — you said with a light smile.
"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.
"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."
"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"
"And he's also a terrible freak!"
You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!
You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.
"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"
This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?
"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."
Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.
"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."
You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.
"Can I call you Tommy?"
• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).
• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.
• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.
• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.
• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.
• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.
• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".
Brahms Heelshire
• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.
• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.
• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.
• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.
• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.
• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.
• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.
• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.
• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.
• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.
• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.
"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.
You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.
The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.
You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.
"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.
You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.
"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."
"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"
You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.
"Yes. I'll stay."
"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.
"Honestly."
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.
The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.
"I won. Again," you grin.
Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.
When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.
"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.
"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."
• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.
Sinclairs
Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.
You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.
Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.
You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.
Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.
"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.
The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.
"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.
"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.
You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.
"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.
"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."
You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.
"Have you had breakfast?"
"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."
Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.
"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.
During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.
"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"
"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."
Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.
"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.
"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."
You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.
You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.
"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.
The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.
"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.
"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.
Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.
"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.
You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.
The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.
Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.
"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.
"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.
"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."
There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.
"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.
"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."
You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.
"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."
• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.
• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).
• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.
• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.
• Vincent is a good cook.
• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.
Would you be able to write if {Michael, Brahms, and Thomas} found out their s/o had a breeding kink.
Breeding kink
With Michael, Brahms, Thomas
Michael
He honestly doesn't know what to do with this information but he will save it for later.
One night you were particularly stubborn and the easiest way for Michael to coax you into doing what he wants is to abuse your poor little entrance. You know he hasn't touched you for weeks and him just teasing you with just his tip probing at the entrance that awaits his full length, fluttering and welcoming him with open arms but he doesn't give in.
"M-michael please.. " you tried to beg for him to just fuck you, insert his full length into you despite him not wearing a condom right now. "Please Michael I'll do whatever the fuck you ask me just fuck me outta my misery.. " you said frustrated already, you know despite his mask, he's smirking underneath. Without a warning, he shoved his whole cock inside making you yelp and ease up around his length. He hooked your legs onto his shoulders and started fucking. His balls slapping your ass and you can hear it making lewd noises. On how rough he was being you can't help but feel your orgasm coming. You grasp whatever words you have left in your cock drunk brain and said "cum in me! Get me fucking pregnant!! " you screamed. Now, he's curious. You want his seed? You want your tummy full of his babies, your breasts swollen with milk? He's not too sure about this but hell you were such a good girl for him right now looking all needy and disheveled, maybe just this once he will fuck you full of his seed.
Brahms
The fact that he was spying on you watching porn and your fingers melting into your very Nectar. He has to know what you were watching so he can replace those damn fingers with his cock. So while you were asleep he swiped your phone and in the safety of his walls he played the video he saw.
He couldn't take off his eyes on that pussy being abused and edged by this guy's long shaft. The video was about to end until the guy pulled out a mix of their cum oozing out of her cunt onto the bed as she shivered from all the orgasm she had. You were watching this while your fingers were desperately trying to make you cum like the needy slut that you are? He didn't want you to suffer when all you needed was his cock and his buckets of cum in you.
After he persuaded you to do it with him he's already in you with no foreplay whatsoever rubbing your clit so roughly while snapping his hips with yours. "Ugh.. All mine Mine!! " he said going faster just burying you on the bed, ass up. He slapped your ass until it was red making you yelp while you felt his cock ramming itself in and out. You had no energy to tell him to slow down but gosh it felt so good when he's this rough! "Get pregnant Get pregnant Get pregnant!! " he chanted while rearranging your insides. Gosh how many orgasms have you had and how many loads does he need to fill you with until he's satisfied?
Thomas
He couldn't help but imagine how your legs wraps around his waist pulling him closer to you while he ruts your very hole. He couldn't help but notice how unresponsive you were after 2-3 rounds and he just couldn't get his mind off on how his meaty cock was a bit visible on your cute tummy while he fucked you up.
He didn't understand what a breeding kink was until you blurted out that he should cum inside you that day.
In the morning while you and his family were having breakfast, Luda Mae asked if you two were gonna have children soon since you couldn't even be separated from Thomas. You choked on your water then looked at Thomas who was already blushing but nodded that he indeed plans to have children with you sooner or later but until you get married to him.
One particular night after that you couldn't take it anymore. He kept cumming outside and on you! He was so careful not to get you pregnant until marriage. "T-thomas please.. Just cum in me! Please I can't wait till marriage I'm already yours!! " you blurted out. He stopped for a moment but then picked up the pace as he rutted into you fucking your g-spot over and over again as he groans in agreement. Mixing your juices and his pre-cum so deliciously and night after night he kept fucking you full of his loads and every time after that you felt satisfied even after you conclude that you were indeed pregnant now.
✰ Slashers Thoughts on having kids w/ SO
“What do you mean? You only need me.” You’re already taking care of them like they are your child.
Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire, PostMichael!Corey Cunningham, RZ!Michael Myers
Doesn’t think they’d make a good parent and would rather not. Can be convinced otherwise over time.
Billy Loomis, PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Jason Voorhees, OG!Michael Myers, Patrick Bateman, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair
Is ready to have 16 children on ask. Blatantly is using this as an excuse to get into your pants.
Bo Sinclair, Freddy Krueger, Jennifer Check, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher
pov: youre a goth nanny and Brahms wanted to feel pretty
So I'm thinking of making fan fictions, I didn't get the books of certain characters just not to make canon accurate writing!!!
So I'm taking request now 👀🫦👀
Who I'm writing for:
Eddie Munson,
Billy Hargrove,
Robin Buckley,
Steve Harrington,
Chrissy Cunningham
(I think that's all the Stranger Things I wanna write, but you can always ask for others I'm up to all☝️🙂↕️)
Oh oh what else
A lot of slasher and the actors characters such as:
Billy Loomis (Scream 1)
Stu Macher (Scream 1)
Joey (Abigail)
Sam Charpenter (Scream 5/6)
Ethan Landry (Scream 5/6)
Mindy Meeks-Martin (Scream 5/6)
Tara Charpenter (Scream 5/6)
Cairo Sweet (Millers Girl)
Wednesday Addams (obviously duh)
Vada Cavell (the fallout)
Micheal Myers (Halloween)
BRAHMS HEELSHIRE (THE BOY, ID GO INSANE FOR THIS MAN FR, rooaf RRRAF wait he don't like dogs)
Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)
Tiffany Ray (Chucky)
Charles Lee Ray (known as Chucky btw)
More Characters are coming cause I can't remember all the ones I want to write about.
(Ask me about a character you really wanna read about, I might actually watch the movie/series etc or smth to get an idea! I'm open to completely new characters so don't worry about asking for a twilight character or smth)
Brahms Heelshire x reader who is just kinda weird, like collects bones and shit. Also hates people (aside from Brahms who they absolutely adore)
OH MY GOD, okay yes totally. Idk if should write this going into spicey in the end or if you want it normal and more fluffy?? Just reply again I'll make sure to do it 🦦
(Also my first request my god I'll remember this 4 ever fr) so I'm doing it again. Let's hope it's not gonna delete 🏃♀️. (Update, IT WORKS SO HERE YALL GO, and here you go love since you asked for it ♡)
I'll be death itself for you.
After driving 7 hours with a heavy ass trailer behind you. You finally arrived at the Mansion you bought. In an online auction..which well is a bit questionable, thr house was cheap for its size. Condition was well not the best but it still cost a lot less than it would've. So after buying it and getting up and about, you're more than relieved when the house turned out to be real. Made of bricks, windows and doors.
"Gosh look at this place.." you exit your packed car and hold the old keys in your right.
"Yes yes I'm coming Luc" Lucifer, you're calico cat, busy scratching on the window. Surely couldn't wait to get out of the car after being stuck in it for hours with you.
Opening the door you take her leash.
"Impatient much?" Slowly making it up the stairs letting Luci smell what she felt necessary. You finally got to the door and she sat by your foot waiting. Unlocking it was a but hard, the lock seemed a bit rusty by now and when the lock finally clicked, you tried to open the door. And my god those doors! They didn't have such a huge size for nothing, they were heavier than expected. So using your whole body weight it finally budged just enough for you two to slip in.
"Pray the electricity works.." trying the first light switch, nothing, the second nothing, the third a quick flicker and then a burst light bulb. "Great" you mumble and finally decide that's a problem for the evening. Walking through the hallway and expecting the rooms with Luci was more than disappointing. Everything was dusty, one room had broken furniture, a sloppily fixed wall (hehehe) and a dead mouse in a trap in the backroom of the kitchen. A life one right next to it stuck in a saver trap. You made a mental note to go out to the woods and let the mouse go.
"Okay" you think before you pick Luci up.
"You're to slow girl, the rooms upstairs are not gonna be around all day."
Walking back into the hallway and then up the stairs, passing open doors and not finding any particularly interesting. The child's room looked so sad..and cold...almost creepy but it also filled you with the want to rebuild it as best as you can. Just because..
You settled for the last room at the end of the hall, it has a bathroom too ans the bed was amazing, so was the dresser and closet. They fit perfectly for you. You let Luci down and she imidiatly found it necessary to leave the room. And just explore again. You were fine with it thou, Luci always made sure to let you know when something was up.
"Mh...maybe I should start by cleaning...everything is old and messy..bed first"
Going to grab the old mattress and covers you imidiatly regret it. The huge cloud of dust hitting you in the face. And not just dust, it smelled horrible. You actually almost gagged while sneezing.
"Jeez need a mask huh?" After grabing a mask and some gloves, just to be sure, you finally get to work. The window were painted shut, so great, all the way downstairs and out the backdoor with the trash you go.
Hours later you finally manage to get the bedroom empty and clean, also the bathroom, which is very important ☝️.
You decided to bring up your own bed stuff mattress, pillows what not. The clothes you owned still stacked in boxes on the floor. You got yours and Luci's food...well after you decided you could carry 6 bags in one go, which cost you a stubbed little toe, a ripped open bag, and a bruised ankle.
So yeah no, one trip, was actually not enough.
You needed more than that but it's fine.
You groan as Luci just watches you gather up her spilled dry food. Luci was a diva, she wouldn't eat anything off the floor. Well this food was gonna end up in a bowl soon after anyways and she'd eat it perfectly fine.
"You hungry Luc?" Grabbing wet food you make sure she eats before heading back out and getting the box with your most precious items, your hammer and some nails.
You carry it all back up to your room and set it down on the little bench at the end of the bed. Looking at all the free wall space imagining which one would be best suited. The last wall on top of the dresser seemed perfect for your collection, you smile as you open up the box, carefully grabbing out the fragile skulls, the picture frames that held pinned bugs, two bats and the smaller bones that were inside a see through glass box. Luci liked to steal them, you'd never see them again.
Putting up all the picture frames and skulls, you were happy with it. Only small parts of the wall were still free which should keep you in check, but you couldn't wait to add more to your collection.
You loved to pin dead butterflies, moths and some spiders. You got some while on long walks, some you raised yourself. They were very important to you. The fact you could let them be in their full glory and beauty even in death was something you loved.
After finishing the wall, and the sun slowly set you decided you needed to find some damn candles. And lucky as you were, there was an entire cabinet full of them, one of the drawers was full of matches.
"Mh so busted light bulbs ain't new here huh?"
You leave the study with a huge box filled with candles and set them up. Putting a few on the tables and shelves that were safe enough to hold candles, and some in the hallway and up the stairs on those mirrored candle holders. Which were pretty rad to you. Watching as Luci scratched at a wall and smelled it, "what's up girl? Don't tell me we got rats or something in the walls?!" You gasp as you walk over to her, pressing your ear to the wall. Nothing, but a faint buzzing of the electricity...well the electricity didn't work but sure did?
"This should do.." finally done with most work you decided to eat dinner. Of course the kitchen didn't really help with that so a sandwich had to do.
Seated in the study room with Luci leaving from the small couch as soon as you arrived to go upstairs with her attitude and ready to use the bathroom.
You decided to just eat, you eyes flickering over the walls and shelves filled with books. Beautiful hard leather bound ones, some definitely seemed to have potential for a lot of money if sold well.
After picking up the one that sat on the small table next to the couch and looking through it you dropped it as you flinched. A loud crash could be heard from upstairs, Luci never broke things. Yes she was a drama queen but she never did.
When she came running down the stairs hurriedly hiding behind the couch you were seated on staring towards the stairs with growling and hissing. You get up carefully, "what's wrong baby?" you ask a bit shaken by now.
She never acted like this not for no reason at least.
Grabbing the pointy letter opener you slowly make you way to the stairs. Great, the too of them was dark, the entire hall was, hell the entire first floor was a creepy pit.
"Oh...mh okay..it's okay you're the only person in this house." Trying to sooth yourself with self talk didn't help as much as you'd hoped only the zippo in your pocket would grant you light up in that black hole.
Walking up the creaky stairs with your 'dagger' pointed and ready to be used, and you zippo lighting the steps extra with the candles that lined the wall. Swallowing hard you call in like a fool, "hello?". Like girl, be for real. You're a horror obsessed freak and don't follow the rules? Wow..
Down the hall you only see the light of your lighter, and your slight reflection in the window, "shit...I'm gonna die and become cat food aren't I?", you huff out before you start walking.
"I'M ARMED AND I'M SCARED TO USE IT!", you yell out. Again, like an idiot. You walk past all the rooms to yours and nothing. Not a person, not a broken piece of whatever broke, nothing...or...wait..
"That's not mine...." you say staring at the stuffed owl and crow that now sat on your dresser, decorating the room just as nicely as your wall.
"Okay ahahah what?!" Feeling a buzz off fright thunder through you when you hear a loud thud in the hallway. Just around the corner of your doorway.
"Mhh great.....hello?? Ghost??" you ask into the silence nothing, so the only valid thing to do was jump into the hallway with a war scream (squeal) Just to find a porcelain doll sitting up against the wall next to you.
"Who are you you little freak?" you knew who this doll was. Brahms Heelshires replacement, you knew reading up about this suspiciously cheap mansion was a good idea. You expected this place had held many deaths but well...this one the last generations of Heelshires passing was probably the saddest of them all.
The poor boy who passed away, so horribly, burned, and the parents who ended up going with a different element, drowning. You huff as you brush your hair out of your eyes (yes you got hair or a wig idc).
Crouching down next to the doll, "hi..um I hope you don't mind my intrusion, but well I own this house now..so maybe we should co-exists..or I'd have to sage your ass...which I don't wanna do you're a kid after all" you say, mostly talking to yourself like a dork.
"I don't know how you managed to bring me those stuffed animals, but uhm..thanks? They're nice? I suppose...or um a warning I suppose.."
Basically jumping out of your shoes when all the lights on the floor suddenly turned on and probably the ones downstairs as well.
"SHIT!.. gosh....pff um..Thank you?"
The rest of the night was rather pleasant, a few thuds here and there and a few of Luci's hissing at the wall and sleep seemed so easy to get.
Little did you know. This house came with more secrets than ghost's and haunted objects.
guard dog [b.heelshire]
summary: your ex-boyfriend tries to take you away from brahms. chaos ensues.
fandom: horror (the boy - 2016)
pairing: brahms heelshire x fem!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: this is VERY DARK, please proceed with caution. death, murder, very very heavy descriptions of stabbing and blood, dark!reader, brief mentions of kidnapping, just all the gory stuff
note: i am so excited to post this omg i know it’ll probably flop but i had SO MUCH FUN writing it!!! pls let me know if u like it and as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
![Guard Dog [b.heelshire]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/44a7493c80ed995d287e6ff18eea8688/fe02256df4177a44-27/s500x750/040c715464456c6f0dccff45e47fe588e54ff8d3.jpg)
![Guard Dog [b.heelshire]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/56b06b276fc32e1764704ea50abe6a59/fe02256df4177a44-e2/s500x750/d60f6e5b0ec34c41df550893726f2c81a9e79b7b.jpg)
![Guard Dog [b.heelshire]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6f653ed902e463c1d1a97933ef090c82/fe02256df4177a44-28/s500x750/3d860559c99c8499f7f2ee49893714b535da280b.jpg)
“Brahms…” you call, a soft and playful lilt in your voice as you walk across the quiet mansion; you presume that Brahms is either asleep or lurking within the walls until a shuffle followed by a gurgle comes from the direction of the kitchen. A shiver runs down your spine as you follow the noise. You call out again, louder this time.
“Brahms.”
He heaves a deep, ragged breath as you enter the kitchen and you gasp softly. In front of you stands Brahms, covered in a thin sheen of blood and sweat, clutching a massive bread knife and looming over a barely recognisable corpse. The porcelain mask covers his features but you can imagine his face contorted with rage, thick brows furrowed and teeth bared in a snarl. The flush that creeps down his neck and into his chest and ears tells you exactly how he’s feeling without you exchanging a single word. You glance down at the dead body, your eyes widening slightly. You’re not surprised, per-se, but rather touched that he’d go to these lengths for you. Before you met Brahms, you were squeamish, shying away from anything remotely gruesome. But living here with him… you’ve had to adapt.
“Is that Derek?”
Derek. Your piece of shit, toxic ex-boyfriend who had an obsession with you so strong he followed you out into the middle of the English countryside to try and drag you back into his life, even if you were kicking and screaming the whole way.
“Don’t be mad,” Brahms chokes, “He was trying to take you away from me. I don’t want you to go…” He stumbles into your arms, his massive frame engulfing you. The blood sticks to you but you press yourself into him regardless, prying the knife from his grip gently.
“I’m not mad,” you murmur, “You were just protecting me, sweet boy.” He nods frantically, his body crumpling. Cooing reassurances, you lower him to the kitchen floor, raking your fingers through his dark curls. He whimpers, the coldness of the mask seeping into your skin and making you shiver. Poor thing; he’d do anything to protect you, including die. He’s really not as scary as he looks - not to you anyway. His cardigan is doused in blood but he refuses to let you peel it from his body. Sighing, you sit against the cabinet, cupping his jaw. He melts into your touch, that high-pitched, childlike voice forcing its way out of him.
“Kiss?”
You smile, leaning forward until your nose presses against the cool hardness of the mask. You lock your lips with the ceramic, eyes fluttering closed. When he whines petulantly, you cock your head, feigning innocence.
“Oh, my boy wants a real kiss?” you ask, sticky hands flying to cover your mouth in over exaggerated shock.
“Please.”
Laughing, you push the mask up just enough to expose his plump lips and press your own to them; he lets out a little grunt, the dark curls sprouting from his chest tickling your exposed portions of skin. You stroke the pebbled flesh adorning his neck and face almost reverently, nipping at the sweet spot under his ear until he’s keening.
“There y’are,” you praise, pecking him one last time before sliding the mask back into place. “Such good manners.”
“Been practicing,” he mumbles, resting his forehead on your shoulder. This new side of him is such a stark contrast from his usual petulant - and at times, bratty - countenance.
Just as he begins to settle against you, there’s a thump and a crash from the front door and Henry, Derek’s best friend, hurtles into the kitchen. Brahms growls, springing up from the floor and swiping the enormous knife from where you left it on the counter.
“Brahms, wait!” You manage to keep a firm grasp on his blood soaked cardigan, drawing him back into you. He’s holding back significantly - he’s never so easy to restrain. Not that it’s your intention to hold him back; you know Henry has to die now, you just want to enjoy toying with him a little first. You fix your gaze on Henry.
“You’re an idiot for coming here. Even more stupid than I thought.”
Henry is stock still, eyes wide as saucers and glued to Derek’s disfigured corpse.
“What did you do to him, you bitch?” he seethes, although his voice wavers and cracks. His face is pallid, brows drawn together and he stifles a shake in his hands to mask his obvious terror. You click your tongue.
“You thought it’d be easy to come all the way out here to kidnap me? Take me back?” you ask, fists clenched at your sides. Derek and his little posse did always have a habit of underestimating you. “You thought he’d let you?” you scoff incredulously, cocking your head towards Brahms. His breaths are heaving and he shakes with a rage you can only begin to imagine the extent of. You giggle at how Brahms must look to Henry. How both of you must look. Covered in blood - Derek’s blood - deep, sticky and crimson, sharp and prominent against Brahms’ pale skin, the wicked glint of the knife taunting Henry. Goading him. Begging him to fight back just so it can plunge into him, slash away until he’s as deformed as his best friend.
“Why are you laughing?” Henry snaps, “Stop that! I’m not scared of your guard dog!”
You almost retch you’re laughing so hard, clutching Brahms’ bicep as tears spill from beneath your waterline and down your cheeks. The choked sounds pouring from your lips are weak and strained as you double over, wheezing. Brahms’ hands grasp under your armpits, lifting you back up to face him. He strokes your hair from your face frantically, nimble thumbs pushing the tears and creases from your cheeks.
“What is it?” Brahms murmurs, shoulders hunched to lower him to your height. The knife dangles from his fingers, just inches from your face, yet you don’t even flinch.
“I-I’m okay,” you hiccup, swaying slightly against his firm grasp. You give yourself a moment to breathe and compose yourself before you’re turning back to Henry and whispering in Brahms’ ear. “We can’t let him leave, baby.”
Brahms is on him before he can even blink; Henry thrashes underneath his weight, grunting with the fruitless effort of trying to escape.
“Don’t fight it,” you snicker, crouching until your nose touches Henry’s and you’re sharing breaths, “It’ll only make it worse.” Pinching his cheek and smearing claret across the smooth skin, you inhale sharply, tracing his lips with the very tip of your finger. “This is the last time you try to take advantage of me.”
The knife sinks into his chest with a slick squelch. Henry screams; Brahms jerks his arm rapidly, shaking him like a rabid dog until he goes slack. Again and again and again he rears back and buries the blade into him. Blood spatters onto the white walls, the linoleum floor, every visible surface is blemished with crimson. Brahms attacks him with an inhuman quality, a deep roar erupting from his chest every time he thinks about these men taking you away from him.
“She’s mine!” he screams.
When Henry is no longer recognisable, limp and far past dead, you pry him away.
“Shh, shh. I’m yours. I’m here. We’re safe, it’s just us.” you soothe, climbing into his lap. “I have you.” His arms squeeze your waist as he holds you flush to him, almost burrowing his way into your skin. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing the slick red skin of his neck and collarbones; there’s so much blood. Is it bad that it turns you on a little? “You did so well. You protected me.”
“You’re mine.” He accentuates the statement with a sharp tug of your body, dropping the knife with a clatter and snaking his drenched arms beneath your hoodie.
“I’m yours. I’m all yours.” You kiss his head, nestling closer to him. “Yours.”