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free-for-all-fics · 10 months

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Various Slasher Prompts! This list includes: Brahms Heelshire, Ghostface, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees, Asa Emory, Jesse Chromeans, Severen Van Sickle and Bo Sinclair. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! 🔪❤️🩸(Special thanks to my bestie @tinalbion!)

1. You’re either born with unique doll-like features or you’ve gotten extensive plastic surgery to look like a doll. Either way you have the face, hair and body of a life size porcelain doll. You’re beautiful and look practically perfect in every way. But it’s sort of uncanny how you dress and do your makeup and hair to look so much like a living doll, almost like you’re an imitation of a human. How does Brahms react? How do you react when you meet this man who’s been living in the walls and wears a porcelain doll mask?

2. Resident Evil Village Crossover: You’re a doll maker like your sister, Donna. You may or may not have mutations and/or the ability to bring dolls to life and control them like she did. After Claudia’s and your parents’ deaths, all you and Donna had left was each other. Naturally, you were very close. You made dolls together, tended to the garden, and left flowers at Claudia’s grave periodically. You were the only person Donna showed her face to, but she still had bad days where she couldn’t bring herself to take off the black veil. Not even for you. You’d never leave the house or go to the village without her because she wouldn’t let you. She used her dolls to keep watch over you while she was away. She always accompanied you outside, afraid something bad would happen if she wasn’t there to protect you.

After her death, there’s nothing left for you in Romania. You’ve never been allowed to step outside the village walls before because of how agoraphobic and overprotective your dear sister was. You’re scared and anxious to travel abroad all alone, but you have no reason to stay here. After burying Donna with Angie in the family cemetery and giving your final goodbyes, you leave Beneviento Manor without looking back. You travel to England, only bringing your personal favorite doll and some small yet precious family mementos that you cherish.

Somehow you meet Brahms and it’s remarkable how alike he is to both you and your deceased sister. Like Donna he has dark hair, hides his face, and speaks through or otherwise uses a doll that’s important to him to communicate. He, too, loves to play games like Hide-and-Seek with his victims. He’s lonely and doesn’t want you to leave the Heelshire mansion either, just like how Donna forbade you from leaving Beneviento Manor without her. Like you, his life is marred by tragedy. His entire family is deceased and he has lived alone in a creepy old house since his parents committed suicide, just like how you and Donna spent your lives after you lost your own parents in the same manner. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Brahms was a long lost brother of yours that was separated from you at birth. Maybe it’s fortunate he has no blood relation to you. So what happens now? (Platonic or Romantic is up to you)

3. Ghost of Thornton Hall AU: You’re Brahms’ twin sister and were beloved not just by your family, but by the entire village. Everyone who knew you loved you. While Brahms was “odd”, you were everything but. Your parents tried to love you and Brahms equally, but you inevitably became their favorite child. When you died with your brother in a house fire, the village suffered a great loss and everyone mourned you deeply. Even 20 years later, your absence is still felt by the village. Flowers and gifts are left at your grave. Your epitaph reads, “Dear Sweet Y/N, Please Come Back”. Rumors and ghost stories spread that you and your brother still haunt Heelshire Manor. Village children make up the rhyme, “Fire So Red, Night So Black, Dear Sweet Y/N, Please Come Back,” and dare each other to recite it in the cemetery at night over and over until they scare themselves silly. Except you didn’t actually die. You were sent away after Brahms nearly killed you. It was a terrible accident and he never meant to hurt you, but it was too much for your parents to bear. So they faked both of your deaths and sent you abroad to America to live with a new family while they kept Brahms hidden away in England.

On your 28th birthday, your adoptive parents tell you the truth and reveal your birth name (omitting the parts about your brother and the fire). You’re sent a letter in the mail that has no return address, but looks like it’s from someone you know. It’s your friend’s handwriting and signed with their name. You haven’t seen them in a while, but they’re inviting you to their house in the English countryside - all expenses paid. How can you say no? Unbeknownst to you, this is all a trap set up by Brahms to bring you back to Heelshire Manor, whether you remember he’s your brother or not.

On the drive there, you stop by a cemetery and see a beautifully decorated gravestone covered in flowers and gift offerings. With your name and birthdate engraved on it. Naturally, you freak out, especially when you see your death date listed as 20 years ago. You’re not dead! So how and why is this here? You’re perturbed and have so many questions but is this really a mystery you want to unravel? The only place you’ll find answers is inside Heelshire Manor. But If you step foot into that house, there’s no going back. You’ll be past the point of no return. Once you come home, Brahms won’t let you leave.

4. Ghost of Thornton Hall inspired AU: A local newspaper has a front page story that reads as follows: A dreary cloud descended over the English countryside yesterday afternoon as services for Y/N Heelshire brought the entire village to a complete standstill. A large group of mourners braved the pouring rain for a chance to pay their final respects to Ms. Heelshire before the private internment on the Heelshire family’s estate. A beloved and charismatic member of the influential Heelshire clan, Y/N was fatally injured during a fire on the Heelshire estate. Since news of her death, outpourings of grief have been seen throughout town, but none were as spectacular as what occurred during her funeral service. Brahms Heelshire, brother to the deceased, was carried out by local police following a violent outburst. Witnesses allege Brahms Heelshire grew agitated during the services, causing thousands of dollars in damage and a few minor injuries. No witnesses were willing to comment to record and Brahms was later released without charges to the care of his family. There is currently no evidence that what transpired that fateful night was anything more than an accident.

“What’s the story with the locked room upstairs?”

“It’s Y/N’s. We don’t go in there.”

“It might help me figure out what’s going on if I could take a look around.”

“Best of luck. That door locked itself up tight the day of her funeral. There’s not a key in this world that’ll open it. I’ve tried.”

Are you truly dead or has your death been faked by your parents? Did young Brahms intentionally try to kill you or was it truly an unfortunate accident and misunderstanding? Will you one day return home to Heelshire Manor and darken its doorstep or does the ghost of your memory forever haunt the halls? It’s all up to you to decide.

5. Crimson Peak/Haunted Mansion AU (no incest!): You’re Brahms’ twin sister. Since you were children, you’ve had murderous urges like he does. Except while Brahms was “odd” and didn’t have many friends, you were a beautiful little girl who looked and acted sweet. You’ve even fooled your parents into thinking you were a perfect social butterfly. But in secret, you’d do weird things like mutilate your toys, etc. Other kids and adults fell right into your traps. It was easy for you to pretend to cry about being lost before isolating your victims and killing them. Covering it up was also easy: No way could a child overpower an adult or do such a terrible thing! But after Brahms killed Emily Cribbs, your parents faked his death by setting the manor on fire. It was up to you to play the part of the perfect daughter and heiress.

20 years later, you’re a stunningly beautiful woman and shine brightly amongst society. Your parents are deceased, and the wealth you and Brahms have accrued from your inheritance and parents’ wills is drying up. You’ve become a somewhat prominent and popular socialite, so you and Brahms hatch an ingenious plan: You go out in society, travel to America and other countries to seduce wealthy men into marriage. Once you bring them back home to Heelshire Manor after your honeymoon, you work your magic on them until they believe themselves to be in love with you. Any weird or strange noises your new husbands hear in the walls you wave off as just the rats, the old pipes, etc. The house is old and often creaks and “breathes” when it shifts. Any concerns they come to you with, you comfort them but tell them they’re just not used to the English countryside air yet. It usually doesn’t take long for you to convince them to sign the papers and leave everything to you.

You and your brother then kill them together and dispose of their bodies. You put on an award-worthy performance as a worried wife with a missing husband, which soon turns into a grieving widow. Then you collect their money and assets, and repeat the pattern as needed. Gaslight and Girlboss. You’re a very successful Black Widow and everyone in the village is none the wiser because you’re such a convincing actress. Brahms and you cover up your crimes so well. Besides, you’re such a darling and do so much good and charitable work for the village that you would never be capable of doing such a heinous thing! You’re so friendly and everyone in the village loves you. You just have terrible luck in love, that’s all!

6. Orphan inspired AU: Heelshire Manor has become a (in)famous though unofficial haunt. The abandoned house has been an attraction for tourists, ghost hunters, and paranormal investigators around the world ever since rumors and speculations from village pub talk have been spread through word of mouth and posted on the internet, exaggerated over time to garner the most attention. The truth behind the story of Emily Cribbs’ death and the fire at Heelshire Manor has been twisted ever since it first got published on online blogs. What was an unsolved crime has now become a ghost story, an urban legend almost. The manor is said to be haunted by the ghosts of Brahms Heelshire and his sister ever since they both died in a house fire when they were children. Videos posted on TikTok and YouTube show strange phenomenon: Porcelain dolls and other objects moving by themselves, inexplicable noises like knocking, the voices of the ghost children, and telephones ringing when the lines are revealed as disconnected and dead. Doors have been shown to shut and lock on their own, and dead animals that were definitely not there before are left lying about in the open. Threatening messages such as “GET OUT” appear written in blood, etc. Some videos even feature rare sightings of the little Heelshire daughter’s ghost. She looks exactly the same as she did on the day she died.

Except you’re not a ghost and neither is your brother. He’s been moving through secret passageways inside the walls and mimicking the voice of a child perfectly. You were born with a rare genetic disorder that makes you have the appearance and voice of a child even though you’re an adult woman. Unwitting people trespass onto your property and break into your family home to film scary ghost content, so you and Brahms take every advantage. You give them the scares and ghost activity they so desperately want then, when they least expect it, you and Brahms strike. You and your brother murder them even if they’re still recording. The videos capture their final moments as they struggle to fight and survive. You and your brother relish in the sounds of their screams or dying breaths as they gasp for air or choke on their own blood.

You then take their phones and cameras, stopping the recordings at just the right moment before you post the videos yourself. Peoples’ skepticism and eagerness to denounce something as fake for clicks or clout works in your favor and allows you and Brahms to get away with endless murders. You then promptly destroy the phones, cameras, or other recording devices and dispose of them just to be safe. The locals know better but are too afraid to go near your house. Nobody ever heeds their warnings and people keep coming like lambs to the slaughter because they think it’s all fake or staged. And since people think you and Brahms are paid actors and it’s all just an elaborate hoax, nobody is gonna bother to investigate. No matter how many people go missing or end up dead, it’s never going to stop. It’s an endless cycle you and Brahms delight in.

7. You’re dating Stu and Billy. You love them both and they love you so it’s perfect that you share and do things as a trio. But because it’s high school and the 90s, nobody understands your poly relationship and you get relentlessly harassed and bullied in school for dating two guys at the same time. You’re called a whore or slut, sarcastically asked by guys for threesomes or hookups since you, “open your legs for two guys already so what difference would it make”, when you’re just trying to get stuff out of your locker or get to class. Thanks to annoying cliques of popular girls, rumors may start that you even have STDs or are pregnant. Even at home, you get creepy or annoying phone calls from girls asking who’s better in bed or guys asking for sexual favors. You’re tired of all their shit so you disconnect your landline phone, which makes your boyfriends worried when you start skipping class and they can’t get a hold of you anymore.

Billy and Stu find out about the situation sooner or later, whether you tell them or not. When they started their Ghostface killing spree, they didn’t have a motive. But now they do. They start tormenting and killing your harassers and bullies. You don’t know your boyfriends are Ghostface and you may be a suspect for a while and questioned by police, but Billy and Stu don’t like that. They’ll take care of it and clean up their mess so that evidence points to someone else (like Cotton Weary) and you’re cleared. Whether you eventually find out they’re Ghostface or not is up to you. How you react to the reveal of them being Ghostface (whether they confide their secret in you and tell you all they’ve done to protect you, or you find out accidentally by being in the wrong place at the wrong time) is up to you.

8. You’re Sidney’s sister and Mickey’s girlfriend. You’re his muse for his film aspirations and often help him with his amateur filmmaking whether it’s brainstorming ideas, traveling to locations, writing screenplays and scripts, etc. While his intentions were the same as Billy’s when he first met you, everything changed when he unexpectedly grew to love you just as much as he loves film. He doesn’t want you to get mixed up with his Ghostface plot anymore. But his methods of protecting you look suspicious and you start to have doubts and feel uneasy around him. When you vent about Mickey to your classmate, Cici Becker, she puts these ideas in your head that he’s either cheating on you and/or wants to break up and is just waiting for an opportune moment. She compares his behavior to her own shitty “boyfriend”, Ted. Why did he ask Hallie to go with him as his date to the mixer party and didn’t even tell you about it? Why else would he be gone and out late so often or not answer your calls? Little do you know, this is why Ghostface later kills Cici. Similarly, he killed Randy for having the audacity to think he had a chance of scoring or dating you.

All his efforts of protecting you blow up in his face when Nancy Loomis shoots you anyway during the final confrontation. Sidney kills Nancy before the vengeful mother can kill Mickey while he’s distracted and unaware of his surroundings. He’s at your side and trying to stop your bleeding, too busy apologizing to you and asking for your forgiveness. He assures you that you weren’t supposed to be here or get hurt, but you don’t know if you can believe him. You’re torn between pushing him away because you’re scared of him and feel betrayed, or accepting his help because you don’t want to die and you still love him. You know it’s fucked up, but a part of you wishes you could pin all the Ghostface attacks on Nancy somehow. You know you’re not thinking straight due to the blood loss, but a part of you still doesn’t want to see Mickey, your Mickey, dead or in prison. You stop Sidney from killing him and she relents, for now. You’ll all be going on a trip to the hospital, but what will happen between you and Mickey afterwards?

9. 10 Things I Hate About You AU: Mickey is paid off by another student to take you out on dates for whatever reason. He’s asked you out multiple times, but you kept turning him down, aware he’s kind of a player and gets around campus. But he persists and eventually does something like Derek did for Sidney where he makes a spectacle of asking you out. So you finally cave and say yes. What started out as a monetary transaction became genuine as he got to know the real you, past the introverted and antisocial exterior you exhibit at school. You’re tempestuous, feisty, and rebellious, but have a very sweet and sensitive heart deep down. You’re tough but he really likes you. Hell, maybe he even loves you as the semester progresses.

You agree to stay up late to help him with his final project for his Film Studies class, but then you both get distracted and bored with filming the documentary. You decide to film a sex tape instead. Something special and private, just for yours and Mickey’s eyes only. He treats it like a passion project. He directs you and acts alongside you as if you were scene partners in a high class art film. During the filming of this sex tape, you tell Mickey you love him. Even if he doesn’t say it back, you feel like he doesn’t have to. You already know he loves you too. But then everything goes to shit when you overhear a heated exchange between him and the student who’s been paying him off. When your sex tape is mentioned, you think he’s shown the tape to other people and feel used and lied to.

“Nothing in it for you, huh? You were paid to take me out! I knew it was a set-up!”

“It wasn't like that!”

“Really? What was it like? A down payment now, then a bonus for sleeping with me?”

Mickey chases after you and insists that he doesn’t care about the money, he cares about you. But after what you perceive as his betrayal, you refuse to listen. You storm off, accusing him of not being who you thought he was. This drives Mickey to become Ghostface and start killing. He wants revenge on those he believed played a part in turning you against him, starting with the punk who bribed him. He’ll come up with a plan to make things right and win you back, one way or another. Even if he has to eventually kidnap you and/or pretend to be the hero and save you from Ghostface. He’ll come up with an elaborate plan and find a way to prove his love for you is real. Even if he has to commit a few murders along the way and pin them on someone else.

10. You’re Sidney’s sister and have been dating Mickey. Murders start happening again following the release of Stab and you get calls from a new Ghostface. You ask Mickey if you can come over; it’s very important that you talk to him in private and it can’t wait. When you arrive at his dorm, Mickey is concerned about your mental and emotional state. You don’t look well. You’re paranoid and stressed, still traumatized from the Woodsboro Ghostface attacks 2 years ago. He acts as a loving and supportive boyfriend, comforting you and distracting you from your anxious thoughts with kisses and more. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve stayed over at his dorm nor would it be the first time you’ve slept together, but this time feels like a goodbye. You urge Mickey to stay away from you for his own safety because Ghostface is after you and your sister again. Whoever it is won’t hesitate to kill your loved ones to get to you. You tell him you’re leaving town and try to break things off, but Mickey is stubborn and refuses to let you go. He loves you and swears he’ll protect you, but he feels like there’s something else you’re not telling him and demands to know what it is. He blocks the door and stops you from leaving. You’re acting weird and look like a sleep deprived mess, so you’re not going anywhere until you tell him what’s going on with you. You break down and reveal it’s not just you or Sidney you’re worried about anymore: You’re pregnant with Mickey’s child.

After that, things seem okay between you and Mickey. The killings have slowed down so maybe it’s over. But then you inadvertently find a Ghostface costume hidden amongst all his stuff in his dorm while he’s out, and you rightfully assume the worst - that he’s playing you the same way Billy played Sidney. Mickey admits that while that was the original plan, the plan changed when he unexpectedly fell in love with you. He swears he wasn’t the one calling you and that it was his partner, Nancy Loomis. He told her to stop and leave you be after you told him about your pregnancy, but it seems Nancy didn’t listen. He’s lied to you all this time and you don’t know if you can trust him anymore. It isn’t until after the final confrontation when he saves you from Nancy and takes a bullet meant for you that you believe him. He put his own life on the line to save yours. To hell with the film, Mickey wants his family. He wants you and your unborn child more than fame.

11. When you were a baby or toddler, your parents were taking you on a family road trip. They stopped at Luda’s shop for gas and/or snacks. A new and young mother of two boys herself, Luda adored you at first sight. She noticed your eyes were two different colors. You were unique and special just like her sweet Thomas. He’s about your age too, or maybe a little older. Your mom and dad were polite as one of them held you in their arms and told you to say hello to the nice lady, waving your arm for you because you were too shy. Luda gave you an old but pretty doll to play with, and your little smile made her heart swell at how cute you were. You were such a sweetheart and she was sad to watch you leave, but was happy you had parents who loved you despite your mismatched eyes.

When your parents later hit a cow in the middle of the road and died upon impact, Charlie Sr. came along and found you in the backseat, covered in your parents’ blood. He cursed to himself when he heard your shrill crying and screaming. You were confused and frightened but luckily unharmed. He pulled you from the bloody wreckage before the sheriff could show up and take you away. His wife always wanted a daughter, so he brought you back to the house. After he told Luda what happened, she cleaned you up. She rocked you back and forth, hushing you and lulling you to sleep. What a horrific tragedy to have befallen your lovely parents and for you to be in the middle of it. Luckily you were young enough that you wouldn’t remember your birth parents or anything from what’s happened. She’ll love you and raise you as her own. Tommy will have a sister to play with. What’s your upbringing like as you grow up with the Hewitts? With your eye condition and his skin disease, what are you and Thomas like as siblings from childhood to adulthood?

12. You died at Camp Crystal Lake and Jason, this poor man, was so devastated that he was in denial and didn’t want to bury you. He’d just tuck your deceased body into bed or on the couch like you were only sleeping and Pamela had to softly tell him it’d be best to bury you properly. Her sweet boy was hurting and her voice comforted him as best as it could. So he buries you, his best friend and lover, in your favorite spot in the camp. He leaves wildflowers for you every day he visits. Of course Jason would be merciless to those that caused your death (if it was caused through foul play and not by an accident or natural causes) and any trespassers after that. One day a group of typical teenagers at Crystal Lake were telling scary ghost stories and fucking around with a ouija board, or one teen in particular was just being absolutely stupid in trying to go around the camp and "resurrect the Camp Blood Slasher" as a joke.

But joke’s on them, it resurrected you instead of Jason. When you come back and Jason sees your grave is empty and has been disturbed, he thinks someone stole your body. He’s about to go on a rage fueled murder spree - until he finds you in his cabin. Your hair, skin and clothes are covered in dirt and grime. You’re shaking like a leaf and your eyes are wide like a startled deer. You know you died, you still remember that day so vividly. So you have no idea how you’re here now. You’re alarmed that you have no heartbeat or pulse. You have no need to breathe like a normal human. What’s happened? Why are you like this? What day is it? Somehow, you’re now risen and immortal, just like Jason. But while he’s a zombie, you may be more like a vampiric creature that needs blood to survive. Jason has to do his best to console and comfort you like how Frankenstein’s Creature tried to do with his Bride. There, there. You’re safe now and back home with Jason. He’ll never let anything bad happen to you ever again. He’ll teach you what he knows about being undead as best as he can.

13. Orphan/Criminal Minds inspired AU: You’re Asa Emory’s younger sister and the only other member of his family who survived your insane father’s familicide and macabre setting of the dinner table. The experience fucked you both up and warped your minds. The chemicals your father injected you with didn’t kill you, but they stunted your growth permanently. You escaped with Asa before your father could kill or stuff either of you, but you’re frozen in the body of a little girl. Even as an adult woman, your petite stature makes you look and sound like a child. Sometimes your brother takes you with him on “exterminator jobs” and lets you design or set traps. Other times you’ll lure in victims by pretending to be lost or in need of help. Most people can’t ignore a child in distress and you’re such a good actress. You’re so relieved and thankful to Asa for not infantilizing you. He speaks to you and treats you like the adult you are when you’re in the privacy of your house or otherwise not hunting for victims.

But you’re often angry and envious of adult women, frustrated at your own body. You ask your dear brother to bring back “dolls” for you to play with when he’s working. You’re both artists; While he’s a licensed Entomologist, you’re a master seamstress. He creates masterpieces with his collection of insects while you create beautiful garments for your victims. Asa steals jewelry from houses for your personal use. Sometimes you use parts from different bodies to mix and match in order to create the “perfect woman”: What you think you’d look like as an adult had you been able to grow normally. After you sew the body parts together, Asa preserves your work through embalming and puts it in the hotel.

Other times, you ask Asa to bring back beautiful women alive. These women are abducted by your brother and then paralyzed due to being heavily sedated with drugs through an IV. They’re conscious but cannot move or speak. You wash them, tend to their wounds, dress them up in clothing you made, and do their hair and makeup. You pose them however you want and talk to them like they’re your friends. You care for them until you either grow bored or they inevitably die from the drugs. Asa disposes of them or moves them to his hotel for his own artwork. As fucked up as it is, you and Asa truly love each other as siblings should. You do what you can to protect and care for each other and keep yourselves safe and under the radar.

14. Doctors were able to save Jesse’s baby by performing a post-mortem C-section after his wife killed herself. But knowing what kind of man he is and the gruesome details about the heinous crimes he’s committed, they falsely reported that you died in the womb along with your mother so that Jesse wouldn’t think to come after you and you could have a chance at a normal life. You were adopted by a new family and live under a new name, but sooner or later Jesse finds out one way or another that his child is out there somewhere, alive. He’s livid at this deception. He’s gonna make the people who faked your death and kept you away from him all these years wish they had never been born. Death is too merciful when there are many a worse fate he can arrange. He may even kill your adoptive parents just to eliminate all obstacles that would potentially get in the way of him taking you back. Either way, he’s going to kidnap you. It’s inevitable.

He’s your father and he loves you, even if he shows it in strange or scary ways since he can’t talk and is often surrounded by blood, gore, and death (Remember how he used a creepy Text-To-Speech program with his victims’ voice recordings on his phone and patted Princess’s head with his knife? Yeah. It’d be like that). When the time is right, he may even show you his face and tell you the story of what happened to him. When he heard the tragic news from Spann, he mourned for you rather than for his wife. While she was a means to an end to keep up a cover, he wanted more than anything to have a child of his bloodline to carry on his legacy. He never loved her, but he always loved you from the minute his wife told him she was pregnant. Once he has you back, he’s going to call you by the name he would’ve given you. The name your adoptive parents gave you is wrong. Your past life is dead. You always have been and always will be a Cromeans.

He’s filthy rich so he’ll spoil you and give you practically anything that your heart desires. But he’ll keep you under close watch and heavily guarded. Every room in the massive and luxurious mansion you live in has security cameras monitoring your every step. You feel like a bird in a gilded cage. Of course you can go outside and go anywhere you want! A trusted employee just has to drive and accompany you everywhere you want to go. Doesn’t matter if you’re old enough to drive and have a license or not. He won’t let you escape. He’s missed out on so much and he wants to get to know everything about you. He wants to mentor you and raise you to be his heir. One day you’ll inherit his “business” when you’re old enough and he either retires or is gone. Everything will be left to you and you’ll want for nothing. He’ll kill anyone who tries to usurp him or steal your rightful inheritance (cough Preston cough). He’s trying his best to be a good father, but given his line of work, well, it’s…complicated.

15. You and the slasher of your choosing love to make snuff films/sex tapes. You kill your victims in creative ways because you’re not just committing murder, you’re making ✨art✨. You do all sorts of weird stuff with your “subjects” (use your imagination) and then have sex in their large blood puddles while they bleed out and/or next to their freshly deceased bodies. You film it all on tape. You and your slasher are smart and resourceful so that the tapes can never be traced back to you or fall into the wrong hands and get exposed to the wrong people. You use voice modulators, never show your faces, etc. You’re both sick and twisted, but you aren’t incompetent or stupid to incriminate yourselves. You could send your tapes directly to the police and they’d never find you. That’s how experienced and skilled you both are.

16. Near Dark and House of Wax Crossover ideas: Your older brother, Severen, made the stipulation that he wouldn’t join the clan unless he could bring you with him and turn you when you became an adult. You were still a child or teenager at the time and were his responsibility in your human life. You’re the only person in his family that he ever loved and he practically raised you (for better or worse). While you were still human, the clan would use you as a lure to fish for victims or to run errands for them during the day. Severen taught you how to defend yourself and gave you a trusty weapon to carry with you in case of trouble since he couldn’t be with you during daylight. In your vampire life, Severen’s love for you remains the same. Your brother can be cruel, violent, aggressive, and sadistic. But as your vampire sire, he taught you how to use your beauty and charm to seduce your victims. He emphasized the importance of never showing hesitation about killing. He and you make a chaotic duo. You hot-wire cars to go on high speed joyrides and eat the cops that try to pull you over, commit arson and theft, etc. You put on ✨performances✨ whenever you murder. It’s not enough to just kill. Yawn! That’s boring. You and Severen have to dress up and play a role. You have to make up a character or story. Or walk over a bar counter and slit throats with your boot spurs, etc.

Your road trips with your clan land you in Ambrose where you meet the Sinclair brothers. You really like them, especially Bo. He’s handsome, charming - A dangerous yet cunning murderer. Just like his brothers. All three of them put on stunning performances! Lester gives lost folks a ride into town, Bo sabotages their cars while they sleep then plays the part of a friendly mechanic, and Vincent silently lurks and slinks in the shadows. The brothers work together to murder their victims and put their embalmed bodies on display in the wax museum. Sometimes their victims are still alive while paralyzed in wax and posed. How avant-garde!

You spend most of your time with Bo during your stay and Severen hates that. He hates any human who has the audacity to flirt with or try to seduce his baby sister. It’s always been you and him for over a century! He doesn’t like that Bo is butting in and taking up your attention and time. He once saw you and Bo turn up the music in the garage and go downstairs to some secret room. He knew what you and Bo were doing down there and nearly blew a gasket. It took every last bit of self restraint for him to not barge in there and rip Bo’s head off from his shoulders and gorge on his blood. He had to leave and go out hunting to calm down.

Severen loves you, so he’ll begrudgingly tolerate Bo but his patience has always been thin. You may have to turn Bo and take him as your companion if you want him to live. If Bo isn’t your mate, your brother will probably snap and cut off his face or kill him in the most horrific way he can think of. The only thing stopping him right now is you, since you seem happy with Bo and are in love with him. (Don’t worry, Bo and Severen will warm up to each other and become best friends eventually. They’re very much alike.) Even if you have to turn Lester and Vincent and bring them along to get Bo to agree to your terms of joining the clan, that’s no problem. They’d be useful with their talents and welcome additions.

You’re the youngest Sinclair and only daughter, so your elder brothers are very overprotective and almost smothering in how much they love and look after you. (Maybe you were born kind of sickly and that chronic sickness has been with you all throughout your life, even as an adult.) They practically raised you since Trudy and Victor were absent or neglectful even when they were alive. It was always one of your brothers who had to watch over you to make sure you didn’t run too far away when playing outside. They were your playmates and kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t get hurt or kidnapped. If you did get sick or hurt, they took care of you and made sure you had the right medicine and everything you needed.

Bo killed your father to protect you when the doctor went mad after Trudy’s death and tried to “fix you” with his heinous medical experiments. You would’ve been killed if your eldest brother hadn’t acted and shot Victor with his own shotgun. When he and Vincent were old enough, they pulled you and Lester out of foster care and brought you back home to Ambrose. You’re an adult now, and shit goes down when Severen and his clan just randomly drop in unannounced at Ambrose. Lester didn’t drive them in. Who are these punks? The cowboy vampire seems drawn to you and is stuck to your side like glue from the moment he meets you, always incredibly flirty and charming. Your brothers probably don’t like that but what can they do against a vampire clan? What can they do against a vampire who’s found his mate and it just so happens to be their baby sister? That’s right, nothing!

Severen hates that you’re hurting and suffering from your chronic illness. The medication you have to take and strict routine you live by daily seems like a lot just to remain somewhat functioning. He’s disappointed whenever your brothers interrupt your time together and take you back to the house to rest because your illness is worsening. The creep that he is, he may climb through your bedroom window to watch over you while you sleep just in case you need something while your brothers are busy murdering people. He’ll want to turn you sooner rather than later so that your illness dies off with your human self. The transformation is painful and difficult, but you’ll become not only stronger and faster, but also incredibly hotter. You’re hot now, so imagine how sexy you’ll be as a vampire!

But your brothers can be stubborn and will need lots of convincing first. Of course they’d love it if you were healthy! if vampirism can truly expel the illness from your body and it’s what you want, they won’t stop you from making that choice. But they’re not just gonna give you away to some vampire as if you’re property, even if he is your “mate”. Something this serious calls for a good ol’ sit down with the entire clan at the kitchen table. Good thing the vampires have all night, because this discussion is gonna take hours. Your brothers are gonna pull an all nighter while they interrogate the vampires and set down some ground rules. Severen would do anything to have you, even if it meant turning all of your brothers into vampires. They’re your family too, so If you want them to join the clan and they agree to being turned, he’ll welcome new members in without complaint for once.

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necromaniackat · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer

Chapter 3: Blood Sport.

Word count: 2.1k.

Image above is Evelyn’s dad Haydn

Dearest Evelyn,

Oh Evie, how wonderful it was to love you. Loving you was like loving an old God for the first time in millennia. It brought me so much faith and filled me with so much joy, if I had to write it out it’d be a full length novel. But it’s time this story comes to an end. Not because I don’t love you, but because you’ve outgrown me. Since Sixth Year, I’ve loved you and you showed me beauties beyond comprehension. I’ve watched you flourish into this Goddess of compassion and faith. I feel like a mouse compared to you. Recently I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m hindering your growth; you’re always coming back for me when I fall. You can’t move forward if you’re always moving backward to help me. I prey you find someone who is as Godlike and passionate and bursting with life as you. Unfortunately that’s not me at this time. You deserve someone who matches your energy.

Xoxo Charlie

It’s been less than a month since you got that text from Charlie. He’s currently away in Ibiza for holiday with his friends. It boggled your mind that someone could send that text and then go on a boy’s holiday two weeks later. You were wrecked when you received that text at three in the morning. You didn’t bother calling your mum, you just showed up at her door at four in the morning a sobbing mess. Adam answered the door initially, holding a baseball bat by his side; probably seeing if there was danger. When he saw it was you, he was more confused. But when your mum saw you, she immediately knew something was wrong and brought you inside for a cuppa.

You and Charlie have been together since you were eleven. You devoted seven years to him and this is how he breaks up with you? You two were each others’ first for pretty much all milestones teens achieve. The worst part is you saw him earlier that day and everything seemed fine, so that text at three in the morning was a complete blindside.

Luckily you had your family to help get you through the worst of it. Unfortunately, even though your family was understanding, you job wasn’t. You still had to show up for your early morning shifts. Your mum doesn’t know this but a few days ago you quit your job. You were so tired of being overworked and underpaid and undervalued that you just quit mid shift. Your work mum was proud of you for standing up for yourself. You work bestie was on the till so she didn’t get to see you throw your apron at your manager and walk out of there like a boss.

You grinned to yourself as the residual feeling coursed through you. You followed behind Felix as he drove down the back roads just outside town, realizing the turn you missed initially was on the opposite side of the road and that’s why you missed it.

The last time you were at Heelshire mansion you were eight but when you saw the mansion for the first time in a decade, your memory didn’t do it service. The vast building sat in a clearing, surrounded by woodland. The mansion itself looked well taken care of, windows were clean, the garden was taken care of and the place, despite it’s gloomy presentation, looked inviting. It looked like home to you. It felt weird to you; ever since your dad died nowhere has felt quite like home. Although, for some reason, you felt like you just got home after a day of school.

You frowned to yourself, not understanding the emotions you’re feeling. Felix parked in front of the house, you parked behind him. By now the sun was shining and the almost unbearable summer heat made you roll down your windows as you drove.

You turned off the car and grabbed your bag off the passenger side floor and got out of the warm car. Felix had already wandered up to the steps leading into the mansion.As you went to meet him you were digging through your keys to find the house key Gary had given you. But something made you stop just before the steps. You paused for a moment, trying to figure out what this new feeling was. You felt it before, it felt very familiar. Like you were being watched from a distance. Maybe it’s just the uneasy feeling of this new adventure. The moment you step foot in the house, your life will change forever.

“Evelyn?” Felix’s voice brought you back to reality. You blinked a few times before settling your attention on him.You deeply inhaled before going up to the large front door, unlocking it was a loud ‘clunk.The door creaked open, revealing the dark insides of the mansion. You remember as a little girl being afraid of this place. You 100% believed in was haunted and after a very eventful but long overnight visit here, you swore to never have a sleepover at your grandparents’ again. The eeriness of the mansion hasn’t changed, but it’s about to.

You took a brave deep breath then broke the threshold between worlds. The inside of the mansion was cooler than the outside, not by much but it was noticeable when you walked in. Warily, you looked around. The place hasn’t a bit since you were a little girl. Same wallpaper, same furniture, same rugs, same everything. It was like you stepped back in time.

“Has it changed at all?” Felix asked from somewhere behind you, you heard the front door shut and latch. You pursed your lips together and turns to look at him. A cheeky smirk crossed your lips when your brain came up with a comeback.

“Oh yeah, there’s a lovely layer of dust on everything that wasn’t there before,” you twanged back at him. Felix couldn’t help but smile and chuckle, shaking his head at your observation.

“I’m going to take that as a no then,” he commented. You sniggered to yourself as you wandered the main floor, taking in the few memories you have of this place.

“So what are you going to do with the place?” Felix inquired from the other room. I longingly stared at the paintings and the antiques classily littering the walls. A lot of this stuff has been in my family for generations. And now it was yours to do with as you pleased.

“My dad’s dream was to turn this place into a bed and breakfast, so I guess I’m doing that,” you replied honestly. The main floor was made up of five main rooms; the foyer, the study, the dinning room, the kitchen and the living room. Those rooms all lead into each other to form a circle around the house, or you can take the shortcut from the foyer straight into the kitchen. Or you can be a weirdo and just do laps around the house, like what you’re doing.

“An entrepreneur, I like it,” he chirped as he wandered behind you. You visibly cringed at his attempt at flirting, and hoped he didn’t see any of that.

“Yeah, sure,” you groaned as you stopped in the kitchen, opening cupboards to see what food your grandparents left you. Which was a whole lot of nothing.

“I can go into town and pick up some shopping for you,” Felix suggested. You pursed your lips and shook your head.

“I can do my own shopping thank you very much,” you shot back.

“It’s just, your grandparents always have their shopping done every Thursday and Malcom’s delivers it but he’s gone and they’re gone…” he trailed off once he realized what he had just said to you. “–I’m sorry.” Were the next words out of his mouth. You shook your head and waved your hand at him.

“I wasn’t really close to them anyways,” you twanged back at him. Felix stared at you in disbelief, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. “–Besides, I’m not my grandparents,” you reminded casually. Felix’s eyebrows fell together and he tilted his head with a smirk of disbelief.

“You’re not really close to your grandparents, yet they leave you everything. Can we swap grandparents?” Felix joked. You had to admit, his proposal made you grin. You cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You wanna be the owner of a creepy doll your grandparents got to replace their dead son, and then made up strict rules to live by including never leaving the house for anything?” You proposed honestly. Felix’s face dropped as he stared at you.

“You have Brahms?” He asked sheepishly. Your stomach began to twist and turn into tight knots. His reaction wasn’t what you expected, it was far from it.

“Yeah I do,” you replied in a soft, hesitant voice.

“Cool,” he said with a slight smile. You chuckled at his statement, brushing your hair behind your ear. You found his deep dark chocolatey brown eyes, in a single second they mesmerized you. Felix and you stared at each other for the longest moment you’ve ever experienced. There was tension building; that was undeniable. His dark gaze wasn’t focused on your eyes, they were aimed slightly lower. You felt a light blush warm your cheeks and a weak smile curled the corners of your mouth.

The moment was absolutely ruined when Felix’s mobile phone started ringing. You were snapped out of the trance like state. You blinked a few times and gave your head a slight shake. Felix fished his mobile phone out of his pocket and answered it.

You gave him some privacy by leaving the kitchen and going back into the foyer. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw the front door wide open. You stopped in your tracks and looked around, knowing Felix closed that door when you guys went inside.

‘Maybe it didn’t latch properly,’ you thought of an easy explanation that was probably the correct answer before walking over to the door, shutting it and putting your weight into it so it’ll latch this time. You sighed, resting your body against the door. You gaze fell to the ground only to be caught by muddy footprints. Bare footprints. These prints didn’t belong to either you or Felix, seeing as you both were wearing shoes and these are bare footprints. They were leading from the front door. Your gaze followed the large prints into the study. You damn near jumped out of your own skin when your eye got caught by the well dressed doll sitting on the leather love seat in the study; knowing you left that doll in your car. You stared at the doll as your mind raced through all the possibilities.

“Nope,” you said when the idea of the doll being haunted popped up in your mind. You grabbed the doll from the love seat and went to take it to the attic where you knew there was a closet with a lock on it.

“Hey, I gotta go. I left my mobile number on the counter. Y’know, in case you need a delivery boy,” Felix told you as he came marching back through the house in a hurry. He didn’t even look over at you as he hurried out of the house.

“Okay…” Was all you could say. A moment ago he appeared to not want to leave and now all of a sudden he’s hightailing it out of here like a bat out of Hell. You could only stand in the doorway with Brahms in tow and watch as he fled the mansion grounds. You looked down at the doll and pursed your lips.

“Oh so now that you’re back home you wanna act a fool, is that it?” You asked the doll, only half convinced the doll was actually haunted. The entire time it was at your flat nothing spooky happened but now that the doll is back in its enclosure it wants to not act right.

“Don’t make me bring a priest here, ‘cause I’ll do it,” you warned as you took the doll upstairs. You felt absolutely silly for talking to a doll at this age, but the doll may be haunted so you wanna commune with the ghosts. It’s only polite. Your mind raced as you thought of all the possibilities; having a haunted doll as an attraction to bring business to this small town was the greatest idea you’ve ever had. Bring in ghost hunters, let them make their little videos and watch the money roll in.

You made your way up to the cluttered attic and shimmied through the stacks of boxes to the back corner where there was a closet that had a deadbolt on it. You set the doll down on the floor of the closet and closed the door, locking it.

“Stay,” you scorned the doll through the door. You tiptoed back to the entrance and down the steps. You had a lot to do today, so there was no time to be pussyfooting around.

Tagged: @hao-ming-8

#writing #horror #wattpad #fanfiction #writer #fanfic #writers #my writing #brahms the boy #brahms x you #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #writeblr #writerscommunity #writblr #writers on tumblr #fan fiction #original child character

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the-cannibal · 2 years

Text

Ask box and request info!

Hello there! Welcome to my post where I explain my ask box and what you can request! Its pretty simple honestly :)

My ask box is used for you to request one shots, head cannons, matchups, or to just say your thoughts about something! I love to hear head cannons and stuff that you guys have so please don't hesitate to tell me! Please use my ask box when requesting things. Bots like to spam my inbox so I am more likely to see your request if you use the ask box

Please note I do not have a set posting schedule so If you don’t see me replying to what you submitted I’m not ignoring you! I promise! I will get to it when I can :)

What I can/will write: Fluff Angst Age regression (SFW ONLY) Pet regression (SFW ONLY) Romantic relationships Platonic relationships LGBTQ+ Poly relationships Light smut (I am not comfortable writing x reader smut. So sorry :( but I can write things like making out!)

What I don't write Suicide Transphobia, homophobia, or anything of that nature. (If you want to request something like slasher defending you against someone making rude remarks, I can do that but that is as far as I will go with that. My blog is a safe space for everyone to feel welcome!) Anything Zoophilic, pedophilic, grooming, etc etc icky gross stuff like that. That is probably really obvious but if anyone requests anything like that you will be blocked. Racism Sexism Hard smut and kinks (again I'm just not comfortable writing x reader smut, I am very awkward at it so it comes out very clunky and awkward) Here are the fandoms/slashers I write for! IT - Both The Losers Club and The Bowers Gang

The Lost Boys - The boys, Star, Michael, The frog bros, Sam

Halloween - OG Michael Myers, Rob Zombie Michael Myers, and peepaw Michael Myers (I love how we all call him that lmao he's out grumpy old man) House Of Wax 2005 - Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair Jason Vorhees Chucky and Tiffany Valentine Carrie White Xenomorph/Alien Predator/Yautja Hush - "The Man" aka John

Scream - Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Sidney Prescott, Tatum Riley, Randy Meeks Texas Chainsaw massacre franchises - Bubba Sawyer, ChopTop, Nubbins, Thomas Hewitt

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amomentsescape · 5 months

Note

can I also request to yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a pregnant reader that gets kidnapped if thats ok? Thank you hope im not requesting too much, no pressure to make it 😅

Yandere! Slashers with Pregnant Reader That Gets Kidnapped

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of pregnancy, typical Slasher behavior

A/N: No worries! Thank you for requesting :) I also apologize if my last couple of Slasher fics have been a bit short. I've been stuck in a brain fog this past week.

Freddy Krueger

The moment Freddy sees you gone, he just laughs

You couldn't be that stupid to just leave, could you?

You can't escape him when he can show up at any point no matter where you are

However, him popping up and seeing you being held hostage by someone else...

Freddy's smile fades

Of course you wouldn't leave him

But who dares to have put you and his child at risk?

The moment he sees them, he doesn't even care

He immediately slashes their throat and picks you up, not wasting any time taking you back to where you belong

Michael Myers

The kidnapper was careless

Don't they know that Michael would walk to the ends of the earth for you and his child?

His abilities know no bounds

He finds your location within a single night

All you can hear at first are screams and splatters, not sure what is going on outside your little room

But the moment you see Michael, you immediately relax

You weren't sure he would come for you

But here he was

And without a word, he has you lifted in his bloody arms as he walks you back home

Just know he won't be letting you out of his sight at all now

Jason Voorhees

He can hear your screams echo throughout the woods

He knows this area like the back of his hand anyways, so it doesn't take long to locate you

The way you're holding onto your stomach, trying to protect the child from any harm, has Jason seeing nothing but red

He doesn't even want to fool around with the assailant

His machete is plunged into the top of their head before they can even let out a scream

His mood does a complete 180 when he looks back to you, gently taking you in his arms to make sure you weren't hurt

He just sits with you on the ground for a while, rocking you in his arms

He's attempting to comfort you, but there's a part of him that's also trying to comfort himself

Thomas Hewitt

When he comes home to the door wide open, he immediately panics

You didn't leave him... did you?

He thought you were finally happy

Teary eyed and angered, Thomas storms out into the night to look for you

He had wandered pretty far into the area when he heard your screams

Some crazy family seemed to have taken you from your home

Your screams were immediately cut off by the sound of a chainsaw, cutting right into the door

Your kidnappers jumped up and attempted to flee, but Thomas was quick to catch up

You had your ears covered and your eyes tightly shut when he came back in

He gently pulled your hands down and lifted you up

He carried you home without any hesitation

Bubba Sawyer

The screams of devastation he lets out can literally be heard from miles around

Doesn't even want to consider that you left him

You've been so good the last few months

There's no way you would have just left like this

After an hour of him frantically searching around the area, he can finally hear your voice

You were talking to the stranger, asking them to please let you go

The fact that they just kept ignoring you made Bubba even more angry

They only finally looked up when they heard the revving of his chainsaw

They didn't even have time to flee before they were cut in half

He runs over to you quickly, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on the side of your face

He was blubbering, promising you he'll do better next time

Brahms Heelshire

Well this was an incredibly stupid decision on their part

Don't they know that Brahms doesn't ever leave the house?

And wherever you are, he will be too

The kidnapper doesn't even make it out the door with you

The moment Brahms hears your screams, it's over

He emerges from the wall and grabs the kidnapper

You watch as Brahms slams the person's head into the wall, over and over again until they're just a bloody pulp

He storms over to you and grabs you roughly, looking your body over to make sure you and the baby weren't hurt

He traps you in bed with him for the rest of the night

His arms act as a cage, not letting you up for anything

Norman Bates

Everything is a bit of a blur

He comes home to the place ransacked, you nowhere in sight

You weren't reckless

He knows you wouldn't have done this

He turns to go search for you, and that's when things go black

He finally comes to with you crying in his arms on a dirty floor

An unrecognizable body lays beside him, blood pooling everywhere

But you and his child are safe

That's all that matters now

And he'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again

Billy Loomis

Billy is immediately in a rage when he sees you're gone

There is no way you're going to leave him

Never

He'll break into every house in this town if he has to

And that's just what he does

It's only after the 7th house that he finds you tied up to a chair

Oh you poor thing

Of course you didn't leave him

The scene before you quickly becomes bloody

A few bodies lie splattered on the floor, Billy tending to the rope around you

He apologizes for letting this happen and kisses you deeply

It's only later that night you hear of 7 families that had been found slashed in their own homes

There really is no limit when it comes to Billy

Stu Macher

He has a mental breakdown when he sees that you're gone

Goes into a fit of hysterical laughter as he reaches for his knife

He doesn't want to hurt you, but he will if he must

When he hears a scream echo not too far from where he was searching, he sprints to it

And when he sees you being held by some random person, Stu's crazed smile finally drops

He lunges, and things go out of control

Stu is left with a few cuts and bruises, but he doesn't care

He immediately looks you over and makes sure you're not hurt

When he's content, he takes you home and cuddles up with you on the couch, bloody clothes and all

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent doesn't like to venture too far from home, but he'll do it for you

Seeing that you're gone makes him assume the worse

He marches outside the home, already searching every nook and cranny of this desolate place

And it works out in his favor once he sees you in an old building, knocked unconscious

He smashed his way through the window immediately

The attackers come running towards him, but he was quick to act

You awoke to a bloody mess beside you and a worried Vincent knelt in front of you

He rests his hands on your stomach and you nod, letting him know you and the baby are okay

He's content with this and wraps you in his arms to take you back home

Bo Sinclair

If he can't have you, no one can

When he's sees you're gone, he assumes you left just like he knew you were going to try

He hunts you down immediately, ready to do what needed to be done, only to see you scared and tied up

Oh, now Bo can't help the growing smile on his face

You didn't want to leave him, and now he can have fun with whoever was stupid enough to do this

Will knock them unconscious and take you both home

He'll make their death a long and painful one

But it's another addition to the wax museum

One that he is most proud of

Lester Sinclair

He instantly tears up at the idea that you left him

He almost doesn't even want to go after you, but you're also carrying his child

He can't just let you go that easily

He of course checks Ambrose first, and he considers himself lucky to have found you as soon as he did

But seeing you being held by some random person was not what he had planned

Lester's self pity quickly evolves to pure anger

He jumps in and immediately attacks, not even thinking of finding a weapon first

His adrenaline kicks in and it doesn't take long before he kills the kidnapper, suffocating them to death

He then wraps himself up with you, holding you close and apologizing over and over again

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disasterofastory · 9 months

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Compromise (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Compromise // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 5/14 Warnings: cum in panties

Summary: Brahms lets you out of the house, but he makes sure you think of him the whole time.

The house is suspiciously quiet, but you try not to think about it too much. Brahms is upset with you since you told him about your plans to go to town. You barely saw him yesterday, so your only companion was the toy you had to take care of while that man-child spied on you through the cracks in the wall. The only thing you heard was your own voice all day. You were surprised how easily you got used to his presence, and when he decided to avoid you and punish you with his silence, you missed him.

Your coat is already on you, and your bag is light on your shoulder with a few of your belongings. The keys jiggle in your hand as you put it into the door lock. The quiet click seems loud in the tense silence.

"I will be quick, Brahms," you sigh. You try to push your guilt away as much as you can. You agreed to stay with Brahms; let's not think about the fact that he didn't really give you any other choice, but he has to learn to compromise on some things. You have to go out to shop and be around people every now and then, and you still have a family. If you don't want people to get too curious about the Heelshire manor and you, they need to see you from time to time.

Your hand is already on the doorknob when you feel long fingers curling around your arm and tugging you back. The hold on your limb is firm and a bit too tight for your liking. "Brahms!" You gasp, shocked and annoyed. Your back thuds against the door when the man turns you around and traps you between his body and the thick wooden surface. He towers over you easily, staring down at you from behind his porcelain mask. His eyes are dark and upset. You can't see his face, but you are sure he is pouting. "Brahms! We talked about this!" He is so close to you that you can feel his warm exhale fanning over your hairline. "We talked about this, sweet boy," you try again, more gentle this time. Your hand smooths over his arm. "It's just for a few hours, and I will come back to you. I won't leave you, Brahms." His posture relaxes slightly, but he still doesn't let you move. Instead, he reaches down to your pants, tugging and pushing until your legs are spread, and your jeans are around your knees. His broad chest heaves at the sight of your mound under your black panties.

You can't do anything but watch as he tugs on the waistband of your panties while his other hand reaches for his hard-on in his pants. When he moves even closer, you forget how to breathe until your head throbs and your lungs burn for air. "Brahms-" He grunts in answer, still not willing to speak to you.

Excitement strikes through your spine when he taps the fat head of his cock to your slit. Brahms rocks his hips, making you wet with his pre-cum. No matter how much he wants to look at your face to see your reaction, he can't tear his eyes away from the sight of his own cock in his hand, pushing and pulling out the junction of your thighs. His fingers stroke up and down on his shaft while sliding over your folds and rubbing your clit. His arousal glints on your soft skin, mixing with your own juices.

The man reminds you of a star-struck puppy as he jerks off, staring at your pussy. A tight coil burns in your stomach as you watch the scene between your legs. He slaps his cock against your pussy again, grunting and moving his hand faster. The rumble of his chest goes straight to your aching center. Your muscles jerk and twitch with the need to do something to release some pressure in your body, but you know Brahms better by now. He teases and taunts you with the promise of giving you whatever you want from him when you come home. But you have to come home to him.

With his free hand, he tugs on your panties again, making sure the crotch of the soft fabric is where he wants it to be. His breath changes quickly, and his fingers tighten around his throbbing cock. He is soaked by your juices, and it makes his chest stretch with pride. You want him. You want his cock and his fingers and his tongue. And you will come back to get them all.

Brahms's whine is muffled by his mask as he shoots his seed with a hard jerk of his hips. Spurt after spurt soaks your skin and panties while his hand still stokes up and down on his erection. The pearly white drops are warm on your mound and slit, flowing down to the already wet fabric between your thighs.

For long seconds, both of you stand still, watching the mess he made. His breathing is heavy, and you have to force yourself not to jump on him. Your walls clench around nothing with need, and your clit throbs for some friction. "Brahms-" He grunts again, not even looking up at your face as he tucks his cock away and pulls your panties back to your pussy. His hands smooth over your crotch, making sure his seed is smeared all over your heat and the fabric sticks to your slit. It's warm and sticky, and you can't help but moan at the feeling.

The man smirks behind his mask, satisfied with his work.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire smut #brahms heelshire imagine #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

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calmcoldevening · 1 year

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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.

#slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair

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cupids-scream-queen · 7 months

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-> Brahms Heelshire x f!reader

-> Prompt: breeding

Warnings: breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it for the holiday season), blindfold, rough-ish sex, slapping, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, idk it's smut guys.

Summary: Planning for Christmas at the Heelshire's required a lot of patience, decorations, and money. When you asked Brahms what he wanted for Christmas, the answer he gave wasn't one you were expecting.

Christmas was coming, and there was many things to do. You decided to decorate the manor, after all, you weren't sure how much holiday cheer Brahms was used to getting.

The Christmas decorations were beautiful, the house big enough for you to get one of those ridiculously huge trees you couldn't get back at home. Decorated with beautiful, twinkling bulbs and strands of incandescent lights, it was truly a sight to behold.

"Brahms? What would you like for Christmas?" You were sitting on the couch, knitting a new cardigan to replace his old one. He was resting on your lap, the yarn occasionally touching the porcelain mask.

"I don't know," He replied, his eyes staring up at you. "What could I have?"

"Oh, like clothing, candy, toys…" You trailed off, hoping he'd take the hint and pick something usual.

"A baby," He looked at you, his gaze unwavering as you looked at him, trying to process what he just said. A baby?

"Like, a human baby? Or a puppy…?"

"Human. Yours," He touched your stomach, confirming that that was where he wanted the baby to come from. You.

"Brahms, I can't just pop out a baby…there's certain--activities--you've got to do beforehand," He shrugged, unbothered.

"I know. We'll do them." It wasn't a question, and you weren't sure how to handle the situation. Why did this man want a child?

"Are you sure that's what you want?" You asked, and he nodded, very sure of himself.

"Let's get started," He sprung out of your lap, taking you knitting out of your hands as he roughly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, something that was becoming increasingly common in your relationship.

"Brahms, shouldn't we--"

"You said I could have anything," He threw you onto your mattress, already climbing over you to grab the black silk blindfold you kept on your nightstand for times like these. "And this is what I want."

He slipped the blindfold over you, pressing a finger to your lips, silencing whatever sentence you were trying to say. He wasn't in the mood for games, or your protests, he simply wanted to have a baby. And, to him, you were the perfect person to provide that. Your pussy was already wet, and he smirked as he slipped a large hand down, touching it, providing you with friction you so desperately craved.

"Brahms--"

"Shh," He roughly handled your pussy, his fingers rubbing up against your clit as you struggled to take your pants off. He wasn't going to let you, not this easily.

He started to take your shirt off, delicately making sure not the remove the blindfold. He delicately removed your pants, your body naked save for your undergarments. Your bra was red, your soaked panties green--it was like you were taunting him with the idea of what he wanted.

He slipped his mask off, you could tell by the noise it made as he set it down on the table. His rough hands started to trail along your body, occasionally a wet kiss would show up somewhere.

"You're taunting," He kissed you on the lips, his facial hair tickling your nose as he deepened the kiss. His hands went to unclasping your bra, throwing it over his shoulder and immediately grasping your tits with his hands. Rubbing his fingers over the nipple, he got the sensitive bud to perk up, and he started to kiss his way down to your breast.

You moaned as he licked your nipple, his left hand going to grope your other breast and his right hand circling your clit. You moaned as he slipped one finger in, and then another, as he started to scissor your pussy as he continued to lick and suck on your tits. Leaving bite marks, sucking hickies into your skin, everything he could do to mark you as his, he did.

He gave your nipple one last suck before he licked from your breast down to your pussy, enjoying you squirming underneath him. His fingers were moving faster, making you gasp and moan his name, your fingers running through his hair.

"Ready?"

"Y-Yes," You gasped out, your body aching for more than just his touch. You needed him, all of him, and you were going to get it, and you knew he'd give it to you. He needed you just as much--he needed to be inside of you.

He laughed, darkly, pulling his fingers out of you. Gathering the slick from in between your folds, he slathered it on his cock, and licked the excess off his fingers. He then shoved his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself as he lined himself up with your cunt and pushed in, stretching you.

"Ah-Brahms," You moaned around his fingers, his cock warm and filling you up in the most wonderful way. He pet your face, his hands warm and rough and fulfilling.

He smiled to himself, his dick all the way in your soft, warm pussy. He started slowly, thrusting carefully, his dick sliding in and out tantalizingly, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot. The soft, spongy walls of your pussy clenching around his cock.

"Feel s-so good," You moaned, your cunt coated in precum, your slick all over the sheets. Brahms only grunted in response, strening himself to not break you. "N-Need m-more..."

That was what Brahms needed, and he suddenly dug his hands into your hips, leaving marks in the shape of his fingerprints. He thrusted into you roughly, his dick reaching even farther into your pussy. You arched your back, Brahms shifting his hands so that they cupped your back, forcing your legs to go on either side of his shoulders. He was balls deep, his groans every time he thrust in you were heavenly.

"You're mine," Brahms grunted, and you moaned his name, confirming that you were his. He pulled out of you almost completely, before slamming his dick farther into your pussy, resulting in you to scream out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Yes, Brahms, I'm y-yours," You whimpered, and Brahms slapped your tits harshly, before slamming into you again. He was rough, his thrusts no longer calculated, he was chasing his high and you knew it.

"I want you to have my babies, I need you to fucking be mine," Brahms was leaving marks all over your body--handprints, fingerprints, bruises, bite marks--all of it, marking you with a cacophony of colors, various shapes and sizes. You were his, you were to be marked as his, and you were to bare his children.

"I-I will," You gasped, and Brahms slapped your face again, marking you with a red handprint. You didn't care, his roughness was only making him come closer and closer to orgasm.

"I want to see you pregnant," Brahms groaned, pushing himself farther into you, your pussy clenching around his thick length. "I need you to have my baby."

"G-God, yes, Brahms," You called out, your hands gripping him, leaving tiny crescents of your fingernails. The pain only made him more aroused, his dick moving faster, his thrusts more sloppy as he felt himself getting closer. Your pussy clenched around him, as if to tease him.

"Call me Daddy," Brahms instructed, plowing himself farther into you, his cock creating a bulge that neither of you noticed.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," You moaned, your back arching again as you came, your pussy clenching around him, you fingers digging farther into his flesh, drawing blood. Your mouth made more obscene noises, your breathing heavier. Brahms let out one more groan, cumming in you with ferocity. He shot heavy, thick loads into you. It was warm, running out of your pussy as he filled you with his hot cum.

"You'll get pregnant, right?" Brahms moaned, shooting one last load into you.

"Yes, Daddy," You replied, your fingers letting go of his skin. Tiny dots of blood dotted his shoulders, his back a mess of scratches. Your body was equally damaged, his handprints all over you, his bite marks covering your torso. "I will."

"Good." He breathed out, collapsing on you. "I'd like that."

"I would, too," You mused, his dick still inside of you. He let out a few heavy breaths before you realized he fell asleep, his cum still inside of you.

You listened to his soft snores, and felt yourself drifting off. Perhaps, yes, you'd like to raise children with him. He was a gentle man when he wanted to be.

"Merry Christmas, Brahms."

#brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #slasher fucker #brahms the doll #the boy 2016 #slasher community #slasher x reader #cupids smutmas advent calendar #slashers x reader #slasher smut #slasher fandom #slashers

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angelbarelywrites · 4 months

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♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

881 notes · View notes

nackrosor · 5 months

Text

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..."

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you.

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house."

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder…

He couldn't wait any longer.

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again.

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria.

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!”

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?"

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look.

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…"

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command.

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction.

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…"

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more.

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms."

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you.

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good...

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short.

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more.

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him.

At last, you had become one.

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you.

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he!

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes.

He will be such a good boy for you.

MORE STORIES 🥀

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[Should I make a nsfw version of my fanart? 🤔 I'd like to try my hand at nsfw art. Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing it.]

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charliedawn · 9 months

Note

Hi Charlie Welcome back!! I don't know if your requests are open or not and if they're not please feel free to ignore this. I've been going through a lot at school and home and feel really burnt out, how would the slashers deal with a burnt out gifted that used to be really smart without trying and now they really struggle and pull all nighters and sometimes even fall asleep at their kitchen table. Even if you don't feel up for it thank you so much

Bo Sinclair :

"…Whatcha doin’ still up, darls’ ?"

Bo saw you on the couch with a book in your hand and immediately noticed the dark bags under your eyes. Now, he could work late in the garage, so he usually came back very late. So, of course he would be worried to see you still up to read a book—out of everything you could have done in the middle of the night. Like sleeping. He sighed before sitting down next to you and clicked his tongue.

"Should I really carry ya by the scruff all the way to yer bedroom after spendin’ all day workin’ ?"

You didn’t answer and Bo sighed again before lowering your book to make you look him in the eyes.

"Come on. Won’t ya look at me at least ?"

You sighed before reluctantly lowering your book. You stared him in the eyes—starting a staring contest—until you eventually folded. You closed the book and he smiled. He knew he had won.

"Good girl/boy. Now, to bed ya go."

Norman Bates :

Norman values hard work. He always told you to learn as much as you can and expend your curiosity far and beyond.

"Learning is the door to opportunities, Y/N. And even though I admire your determination, you mustn't exhaust yourself."

He sat down next to you and looked over your shoulder to see what you were working on. He then went to his personal library to retrieve books on the subject and started reading them so he may help you master the subject faster and save you some much needed sleep time.

Norman *sits down next to you and reads to you*

You *slowly drift off to sleep*

Him *smiles before wordlessly carrying you to bed*

Brahms Heelshire :

Brahms would force you to bed. Literally. One, because you needed it. And second, because HE needed it. He wanted to cuddle with you and reassure you. But, as he was also a gifted child as a kid, he’d understand the high expectations you set for yourself and would help you the best he can. But, he would NEVER put any expectations on you. Whatever happens, he’d be proud of you. Always.

Brahms *opens his arms wordlessly*

You *collapse into his arms*

Him : "My p…perfect."

He wanted to tell you that you were perfect. That you were human. That you didn’t need to impress him for him to be proud of you, because he already was. So very proud.

He settled for kissing your forehead and hold you closer instead.

Jack Torrance :

"…School is for fucked up brainiacs. Don’t be one, kid. They end up burnt out at age 25 and live on to be completely unsatisfied with their life. My advice ? Sacrifice whatever you can and have as much fun as possible."

Jack knows what he is talking about. He was a popular kid, but he also worked hard to always be on top of everyone else. At the end, he felt secluded and sad and lonely and depressed. He then found salvation in alcohol and work. Working until he can’t feel himself or his dark thought. Working until he forgets everything else. Working until he doesn’t care. He wouldn’t let you make the same mistakes he did. Not a chance.

Jack *grabs your textbook and throws it out the window before forcing you to take a break*

You : "But—!"

Jack : "No buts. Can wait."

You : "But—!"

Jack : "I said no buts !"

You then spent the rest of the day relaxing and watching TV with snacks.

Jason Voorhees :

Jason wouldn’t understand. He never really went to school. He tried to understand, he really did. But, the man is worse than a caveman. He only understands basic needs and only cared about your lack of sleep. He had asked you multiple times to go to sleep. He had spent time explaining how sleep was important and that being perfect wasn’t what he wanted from you. He was even reluctant to make you go to school in the first place. Jason has severe separation anxiety. But, seeing you fear and even cry because of school was just too much.

Jason *sees light underneath your door and barges in*

Jason hates it when the people he cares about aren’t feeling well. He’d burn the textbooks if necessary. You’re not getting any lack of sleep under his watch.

Jason *hugs you until you finally give up and sleep*

The next day, he didn’t wake you up and didn’t let you go when you tried to explain that you had to go. He decided that missing one day wouldn’t hurt you…

Freddy Krueger :

Freddy : "…What’s the problem ?"

You : "…Maths."

Freddy : "Ah."

He doesn’t like school. Never liked it. He finds the system stupid and first chance he got, he was outta the door. The school system never liked him, and he never liked it. He never got past high school, even though he had the capacities. He just wanted out and became a gardener for his old kindergarten. But, he’d understand the need of it for you to become someone great—unlike him.

Freddy *sighs before sitting down next to you and taking a look at your work*

He’d help you the best he can. He’d sit down next to you and go through all of your exercises one by one—explaining what he can. Freddy didn’t like the system when he was a kid, doesn’t mean he was bad at it.

Michael Myers :

Michael had spent all evening cooking and thought a little meal between the both of you would do you some good. But, he then found you passed out at the kitchen table and he hesitated before bringing you to bed. He then stayed with you—making sure you got the rest you needed. He’d gladly write a well worded letter to your teacher saying you needed a few weeks’ break the next day. But, for now…he’d let you rest.

Michael *brings you to your favourite restaurant and orders everything you want*

Be a nice healthy kid. That’s all he cares about.

Meaning: School can wait. It’s father-child bonding time.

Penny and Pennywise :

Penny : "My child is unhappy with your teaching. They do not sleep. They do not eat. They do not even want to spend time with me anymore ! How do you intend to fix them ?!"

Teacher *looks at Pennywise*

Pennywise *smiles placidly* : "I believe my brother asked you a question. Better answer quickly. Or, we just might get HUNGRY."

Teacher: "You mean angry, right ?"

Both brothers *smile ominously*

Teacher : "…"

…You had less work to do after that.

For the rest of the year.

They may not understand a thing about the human school system, but they know fear. And they’d be sure you never have to feel fear ever again.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #bo sinclair x child!reader #pennywise x child!reader #michael myers x child!reader #jason voorhees x child!reader #brahms heelshire x child!reader #freddy krueger x child!reader #norman bates x child!reader

140 notes · View notes

kittyamore0 · 1 year

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you would do the slashers with a reader with poor self esteem? which ever slashers you prefer !

𝗢𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲! 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱, 𝘀𝗼 𝗜'𝗺 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲.

𝚂𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝙶𝙽! 𝚂/𝙾 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷:

𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𓇽🩸

𖤐 - ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴛᴀʀɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴏꜰ ɢɪʀʟs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏʏs ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴅᴀʏs ᴀɢᴏ

𖤐 - ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ꜰᴜɴ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴀɴᴅ...𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩

𖤐 - Jᴇɴɴɪꜰᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴᴜsᴜᴀʟ sɪʟᴇɴᴛ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇ

𖤐 - sʜᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇɴsᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ

𖤐 - “ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɪᴛ?“

𖤐 - ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ, ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ, ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴜɴᴡᴏʀᴛʜʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪɴɢs, ᴇᴛᴄ...

𖤐 - ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴀʟʟ, sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜsᴇᴅ.

𖤐 - ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, sʜᴇ ɢᴇᴛs ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ

𖤐 - ʙᴜᴛ, sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴀs ᴡᴏʀᴛʜʏ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ, ᴡᴀs ᴄʜᴏsᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀ S/O, sᴏ ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ?

𖤐 - sʜᴇ'ᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴀᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇʀ

𖤐 - sʜᴇ'ᴅ ɢʟᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ sᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ

𖤐 - “sʜᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ“ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒 ✿💓💧

🝮 - ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʟᴇss ᴄʜᴇᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴜsᴜᴀʟ, ʜɪs ᴍᴀ ᴏʙᴠɪ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

🝮 - ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴛᴀᴘ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ᴄʜᴇsᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ sᴏ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʜɪs ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ᴡᴀs ʀᴏʟʟɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

🝮 - “ᴏʜ.“

🝮 - ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʀᴏɴɢ

🝮 - “ɴ-ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴡʀᴏɴɢ.“

🝮 - ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙs.

🝮 - ʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴋs ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ, ʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʀᴏɴɢ

🝮 - “ᴏ-ᴏᴋᴀʏ, ᴏᴋᴀʏ! ⵊ'ʟʟ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʀᴏɴɢ“

🝮 - ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ, ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ, ᴇᴛᴄ...

🝮 - ᴀʟsᴏ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜsᴇᴅ, ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, sᴏ ᴡʜʏ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ?

🝮 - ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sᴀᴅ

🝮 - ʜᴇ’ʟʟ ᴛᴇʟᴇᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʜɪs ᴍᴀ sᴀɪᴅ sᴏ

🝮 - ʜᴇ’ʟʟ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀʟʟ ɢɪᴅᴅʏ

🝮 - ᴜɢʜ, ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs...

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒۞🎃

♔ - ʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ

♔ - ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴠᴇʀʏ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜsᴇᴅ

♔ - ᴡʜʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ...

♔ -ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴊᴜᴍᴘ

♔ - “ᴍ-ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ?“

♔ - ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴄʜᴜᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ, ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ.

♔ - ʏᴀʟʟ sɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪɴ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ 2 ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

♔ - ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜsᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟs...

♔ - ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴘᴀᴛs, ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ. ʜᴇ's ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ sᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ɪᴛ sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜɪs ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs

♔ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ, ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ, ᴇᴛᴄ...

♔ - sɪᴛs ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ's ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ʜɪs sʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴄᴇ ☝️

♔ - ᴏʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴜᴘ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄɪɴɢ ʜɪs ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ

♔ - ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ʜᴇ's ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴘ, ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴏᴡɴ...ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ᴡᴀʏs...

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍 ❤︎︎♫💀

♩- ʜᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ

♩- ʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜰʀᴏɴᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇᴅ ʜɪs ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏʀ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ “ꜰɪɴᴇ“

♩- sᴏ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ʙᴇsᴛ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴠɪsɪʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴍᴏᴅᴇ

♩- ʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ, sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴsᴜʟᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛɪᴇs, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

♩- ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʜɪs ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ sᴡᴇʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴀᴅɴᴇss

♩- ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ sᴏ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ, ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs?

♩- ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴɪ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴅᴏᴡɴs, ʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴇᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ.

♩- ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴏʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ

♩- “ᴛ-ᴛᴀᴛᴇ, ɪ-“

♩- ʜᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴛɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴜɢ

♩- “ᴡʜʏ?“

♩- ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ, ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ

♩- ʜᴇ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴋɪssɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ

♩- “ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sᴏ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ, ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs?“

♩- ʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴇᴀʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ.

♩- ʟᴇᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ꜰᴇʟʟ ᴀsʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴅ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐄𝐑 ☾😴💤

☽ - ᴀᴛ ꜰɪʀsᴛ, ʜᴇ's ᴍᴀᴅ.

☽ - ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴡ sᴇʟꜰ-ᴇsᴛᴇᴇᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇᴇɴ sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ

☽ - ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴘɪssᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏꜰꜰ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ sᴘᴇɴᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ

☽ - sᴏ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴇᴛ sʟᴇᴇᴘ, ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɢʀʏ ʙᴜʀɴᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴏɴ-

☽ - ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, ᴍᴀɴ

☽ - ⁿᵒ ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ

☽ - “ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇ'ʟʟ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴀ?!“

☽ - ʜᴇ ʜᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪɴɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ

☽ - ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs, ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴘ ᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ

☽ - ᴍᴀɴ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴇᴅ

☽ - ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʏ ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴡᴀʏ

☽ - ʏᴏᴜ sᴘᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ/ʜᴀɴᴅsᴏᴍᴇ sᴇʟꜰ ᴡᴏʀʀʏɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴛ?

☽ - ʏᴏᴜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴᴇ ᴀss ᴀᴡᴀʏ

☽ - ᴇɴᴅs ᴜᴘ ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪs ʙʟᴀᴅᴇᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅ ʀᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɪʀ ᴛᴏ sᴏᴏᴛʜᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

☽ - ɪᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ✋

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐇𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄 ❤︎︎🫶😩

❣︎ - ʙʀᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

❣︎ - ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟꜰ, ʜᴇ sᴀᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡᴏʀɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴏᴏᴅᴇɴ ᴡᴀʟʟs

❣︎ - ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴍɪxᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴀᴅɴᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ

❣︎ - sᴏ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟꜰ

❣︎ - ʜɪs ꜰɪʀsᴛ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡᴀs, “ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ? “

❣︎ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ sᴏ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜsᴇᴅ

❣︎ - “ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ, ʙʀᴀʜᴍsɪᴇs?“

❣︎ - “ɪɴsᴜʟᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ, ɪᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢ.“

❣︎ - “ᴏʜ.“

❣︎ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ: “ᴅᴀᴍɴ ʙʀᴏ, ʜᴏᴡ'ᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴍꜰ ᴋɴᴏᴡ?“

❣︎ - ᴛʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏʙᴠɪ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴀʟʟs

❣︎ - ɢᴏᴅᴅᴀᴍɪᴛ ʙʀᴀʜᴍɪᴇs, ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ʙᴇ sᴏ ɴᴏsʏ, sᴛɪʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ 😍

❣︎ - ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ, ᴀʙᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

❣︎ - ʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟs ʙᴀᴅ, ʀᴇᴀʟ ʙᴀᴅ

❣︎ - ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ

❣︎ - ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜᴇ’ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴘʟᴀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴀɴᴏ

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘☻︎🧸

꥟ - ᴛʜɪs sʜᴏʀᴛ ᴍꜰ ɢᴏɴ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴʏᴛɪᴍᴇ

꥟ - ʙᴄ ᴏꜰ ʜɪs sᴛᴜʙʙʏ ᴅᴏʟʟ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ, ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ Mɪᴋᴇʏ

꥟ - “ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ?“

꥟ - ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴛʜɪs ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sʜɪᴛ sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ

꥟ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ, sᴏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇs ɴᴏ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ɪᴛ

꥟ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ, ᴀʙᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ, ᴇᴛᴄ...

꥟ - “ʜᴜʜ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴀɴ? ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴏᴛ, sᴍᴀʀᴛ, ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ʏᴀ ᴡᴏʀʀʏɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ...“

꥟ - ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴍɪʟᴇ, ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴀss ɢᴏᴏꜰʏ ɢʀɪɴ

꥟ - ʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇs ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡs ɪɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴊᴏᴋᴇs

꥟ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴘᴜɴᴄʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs

#freddy kruger x reader #tate langdon #ahs murder house #nightmare on elm street #halloween #micheal myers #jennifer body #jennifer check #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms headcanons #brams heelshire #the boy movie #chucky #childs play

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slasherstories123 · 28 days

Note

Hii this is the first time I make a request. Can you make slashers(your choices hehe) react to S/O making a plushie that look just like them? Thank you :)

Slashers reaction to their S/O making a plushie of them

Paring: Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Vincent Sinclair,Lester Sinclair, and Brahms Heelshire x reader

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @l0sercat

A/N: When you said dolls it made me think of crochet dolls, but if not then I’m sorry😭💗

Jason Voorhees

Very curious. He's curious about the process of you making the plushie once tibeas given to him.

Jason loves the plushie, even carrying it around like it’s his own child and will even sleep with it besides his teddy bear that was given by his mother.

He’ll hug you to no end as his way of saying thank you

If you were to make another plushie he’d want to watch you make it so he could make one of you, it was terribly made but it was his first time… and it’s the thought that counts

He’ll be forever grateful because it’s the fact that you wanted to make the plushie and haven’t had any sort of gift in years ever since his mother was killed, it’ll possibly even make him emotional just the thought of him receiving any gifts after being called a monster or freak.

Michael Myers

He’s giving you so many head tilts of confusion

All he can think about is why? Why are you making it, he knows you love him, but that far to make a plushie?

He’ll keep it of course but you won’t see him around with it, he probably has it put up on your dresser.

Will he stare? Yea. He’ll stare at you through the whole process of making it. Once it’s done he’ll definitely see something missing. Going in the kitchen to get the largest knife and give it to you.

You’d have to stifle a laugh and make a large knife that will fit the doll to fit his liking, handing it up to up for his own approval.

He’d take the doll and hold it by its head. Placing it on his shoulder.

He’d walk around the house with it on his shoulder, surprisingly, it doesn’t fall off.

Vincent Sinclair

Loves it.

Vincent keeps anything you give him, even if it’s a a half head flower you saw outside he’ll keep it even if it’s shriveled up into nothing

At first he’s curious since he never knows you could make things like he could. Once you show him how you do it, just know he’ll also make you one as well so you both can have plushies of each other

He’s rather good at it for the first time but often cuts his fingers so you’d have to stop him just to patch them up or to make sure he isn’t bleeding

He’ll often watch you make them since it’s satisfying in his opinion to watch. Just have music play in the background while you work he could stare for hours and not get bored at all.

Lester Sinclair

Lester literally laughs at the sight of it

It’s more of a surprise laugh since he didn’t expect you to make a doll that’s exactly like him, he loves it and will give you the tightest hug known to mankind

Even press kissed all over your face happily, mustache sloppy but they’re still kisses 🤷🏾‍♀️

He’ll even call the doll “Lester Jr” and will have it in his truck… or will carry it everywhere but will also have it in his truck since it reminds him of you

He’ll hug it to no end, even in his sleep, or he’ll have you hold onto it while he curls up besides you to sleep

Brahms Heelshire

It would be hard for you to even make it since he’ll sometimes take the tools away just so he can get your attention.

Once he settled down… hopefully. He’ll watch while having the porcelain doll of himself in his lap. Holding onto it until you finished with the doll you were currently making yourself.

Just like with the porcelain doll, he expects you to be careful even though it isn’t as fragile as the one he has

It’s a doll, and it was made by you. He wants it to be taken care of of since it resembles him.

As his way of a thank you, he’ll give you one perfectly made as well, and it has more details of your features that you don’t even pay attention to.

397 notes · View notes

buggwrites · 1 year

Text

Please don't leave.

Brahms Heelshire x afab!reader

Warnings:

There will be adult topics and smut, so 18+ ONLY please

Summary:

You find that ever since you had been working for the Heelshires in babysitting their "son", there has been a secret admirer of yours watching from the walls. A very... Special... Someone. You begin to come to terms with it after a bit, and even start to feel sympathy for the silly wall man, warming up to him over a very quick greeting while trying to go on a grocery run.

Your pov:

I woke up in my usual bed of the large Heelshire manor, groggy like always. My eyes flickered open as I glance over at the blaring alarm clock, moving my fingers to push the "off" button of the small device. I sit up on the plush bed, stretching out my muscles. I stare off into space for a moment, still trying to wake up. I let out a grunt before flipping the covers off of me. I knew the schedule. Get up, get dressed, wake Brahms up, and so on. I stumble sleepily over to my small dresser, yoinking out some clothing for myself. I cradle the clothing in one of my arms, shutting the drawers one by one with my empty hand.

I throw my clothing onto the ground, beginning to undress myself. I get the eerie feeling I'm being watched, but I brush it off as my imagination playing with me. I've felt that same feeling of being watched since a few weeks ago, when I got here to take care of a doll named Brahms. Sure, it was an odd job, but considering what I'm being paid it wasn't that big of a deal. Once finished slipping the cloth off my body, I nab at the new clothes piled up by my feet, redressing myself. I take my old clothing, walking over to the hamper and throwing it inside then making my way out of the room and towards the doll's.

Once I arrive at the room that looked like the one of a child's, I walk over to the bed placed against one of the walls, picking up the doll in my hands, grinning a bit. "Good morning Brahms !" I chirp, looking into the glass eyes of the doll as they stare right back into mine. I place the doll back on the bed only for a moment to grab his new clothes, taking off his old ones and redressing him gingerly. Once done, I place his old clothes in his small hamper to wash later, picking up Brahms to go make him breakfast.

Once we get to the kitchen, I place him in his respective chair, grabbing some eggs and bacon from the fridge, placing them by the stove before I slide some bread into the toaster. I hum as I get to cooking, eggs and bacon sizzling on the pan. I flip the eggs flawlessly, then do the same to the bacon except with a spatula this time. I finish cooking, the toast popping up at the same time I finish up my task, and I hold the pan up, sliding the eggs and bacon onto a plate, rushing to the sink to wash off the pan, the metal sizzling under the cold water I pour over it.

I walk back over to the food I just made, pulling the newly made toast out of the toaster, spreading some butter on it and placing it on a seperate plate. I place the plate with eggs and bacon in front of Brahms, smiling at him happily before sitting in a chair close to his, placing the toast in front of me. I pick up a piece of toast, bringing it up to my mouth, closing my eyes softly as I hum quietly to myself. I finish quickly, excusing myself from the table. "I'm gonna be right back, okay Brahmsy ?" I smile gingerly at the doll before taking my plate, washing it in the sink and walking off to the bathroom to give Brahms some time alone.

I walk to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I reach for my hairbrush, combing it through my hair as I stare into the mirror, ridding my head of tangles and knots. Once I finish, I grab my toothbrush and toothpaste, squishing some of the fluoride mixture onto the bristles and placing the brush under rushing water for a moment before beginning to brush my teeth. Once I finish, I spit out the toothpaste into the sink, washing out my mouth with the same rushing tap-water. I spit the rest of the water out into the sink, turning off the water and placing my toothbrush back in its holder, tostling around with my hair and smiling at my reflection.

I walk back out of the bathroom, and just as he usually does, he ate all his food while I was out of the room. I smile warmly as I pat the small doll's head. "Good boy, Brahms !!" I praise him softly, my eyes tender and loving. I pick up the plates placed in front of the doll, taking them over to the sink and washing it off before walking back over to Brahms. I take him kindly into my arms, sauntering over to the study room, placing him upright in his chair as I sit in the one opposite of him after grabbing a book off of the shelves, flipping open the pages to where we're last time.

Time Skip

It was now lunch, and I was getting Brahms ready to eat once more, putting him back into his chair to wait for me to make him something quick to eat. I check the fridge, groaning a bit as I realize that we were out of fruit. Malcom wasn't supposed to get here until Wednesday, and I needed to give Brahms his lunch. I knew we were almost out of bread as well, so I look at Brahms with an awkward grin. "Brahms, we're out of fruit and bread. I have to go shopping, okay ? I'll be back in less than 2 hours, I promise. Be a good boy and wait for me, okay ?" I hear a slight rumble from inside the wall, cocking my head at it for only a moment before shrugging it off as the house settling. I begin making my way to the door after I grab my bag, but I'm stopped by two large arms wrapping around my waist and holding me tight.

"Don't leave Brahms..." I hear a quiet voice whisper, meek and trembling. I let out a shaky breath, whipping my body around to look at who had grabbed me. I stare at a very tall masked man wearing a green cardigan and an off white tanktop with suspenders holding up deep brown pants that crumpled up around his old shoes. He stared down at me needily, his large hand still attached to my arm, his dark brown curls disheveled and messy. Then his eyes, the only part of his face that wasn't covered by his doll mask which was the most concerning piece of his outfit. His eyes glistened in the light, and he continued to stare into my eyes with his true green ones.

"Wh-Who are you...?" I whimper, gazing into his gorgeous eyes, his staring right back into mine. "Brahms," he cooed in a childlike voice. I could plainly tell it wasn't his real one, but he might be using this child one to cope with something. I swallow. Hard. I didn't know how to get out of here without the chance of being hurt, seeing how quick and muscular he had looked and acted. How long had he been spying on me for ? What had he seen me do. So many questions rang through my mind, but it was all silenced by the main question;

"Brahms, have you been watching me ?" I ask quietly, his grip on my arm becoming harder. He only silently nods, staring down at the ground for a moment. Then I realize... "Are you the little boy that the doll replaced ?" I look at him gingerly, tilting my head to the side. He nods once more, bringing his eyes to look up at me this time, and I could see the look of hurt ridden in his eyes. I let out a hum in response, looking down at the ground to process this all. "How long has it been since you've been out here and able to take care of yourself? like cooking and bathing ?" My voice is still in a coo, speaking softly and clearly to him. He shook his head this time, staring down once more. "Don't remember..." I could tell he was honest with his words, and I nod slightly.

I bite my lip for a moment to think, pasuing in my thought before speaking once again. "How about we take a bath first, hmm ?" I smile at him warmly, and he nods softly, his pretty eyes gazing back into mine. I take his hand off my arm, instead holding it in mine. I could tell he hadn't been touched like this in a long time and it was much needed. I let out a faint sigh, my smile still warm and kind. I walk to a nearby closet which thankfully had a few clean towels piled up. I took 2 just in case before I lead him to the bathroom, putting him in the room before remembering he'd need new clothes, letting go of his hand and about to go out of the room. Before I can make my escape out into the rest of the house, my hand is almost yanked back as he looks at me tentatively. "Are you leaving me ?" He speaks lowly, in his real voice this time. I turn to look at him once more. "I'm just gonna find some clothes for you, Brahms. can you wait here for me ? I'm not leaving,"

He doesn't seem convinced. His grip only tightens around my fragile wrist, and I slightly try to wiggle free. "Don't leave Brahms... Get clothes after..." His child-like voice comes back, his English accent prevalent as he speaks softly. I grunt before turning my body around, letting out a sigh. "Alright then, after. Now can you get undressed for me, Brahms ?" I speak lowly and softly, careful with my words.

"No," he retaliates. I give him a confused glance. "Do it for Brahms..." He speaks once more, and I'm fully taken aback, my face flushing red at the thought of undressing this man-child. I clear my throat, staring into his eyes. "Please Brahms. Be a good boy and do it yourself, hmm ?" I beg, hoping he'd do as I asked with a soft smile across my face. But of course he does the exact opposite. "No. Brahms is already a good boy. Do it for Brahms. Please...?" His final plea at the end makes me bite my bottom lip and think for a moment. I sigh reluctantly, reaching my hands out to him.

I tug off his green cardigan, it falling off his arms and to the floor. I gawked at how big his muscles were. How did this dude work out to get this big ?? I pushed my thoughts to the back of my mind as I push the suspenders off his shoulders, fidgeting with his shirt a bit, hesitant and red-faced. I look at Brahms; "Are you sure you can't do this alone, Brahms ?" I speak softly and slowly for him and responds quickly after, nodding his head as he spoke. "Yes. Do it for Brahms..." His eyes were fixated on mine, and I only let put a huff in response.

"Arms up, then," I talk once more, still soft and caring with my tone. He lifts his arms straight up for me. He was being really obedient. It was nice, seeing how well this worked for me. Maybe taking care of the real Brahms would make this stay more exiting and easy. I hesitate for a moment, my fingers fidget with the hem of his shirt. I gather up my courage, then lifting his shirt over him as best I could. He had to bend over just a bit for me to get it the rest of the way off, and I blushed slightly at the gesture.

Once I got the tanktop off, I throw it to the side on the ground. I look down at his pants, knowing my body physically wouldn't let me take them off. I plead Brahms, but he doesn't budge. "If you don't, then you won't get a goodnight kiss, Brahms, " I speak quietly, and he perks up at the punishment I promise him. He pouts, whining a bit. But it seems that the thought of no goodnight kiss was enough to push him over, and he slips his pants and boxers down, kicking them and his shoes off. I try not to look down, but failing as I grab a single glance. My mouth drops open before clearing my throat and bringing my eyes to look back up into his.

"Are we leaving the mask on, Brahms ?" He nods quickly, and I hum in response. "Alright then. Bath or shower ?" I cock my head at him, and he thinks for a moment, I could see the thought process running in his head. I just stare at his distracted eyes. "Shower. With Brahms," My jaw drops farther than it did before. A shower. With a man I just met. My face flushes a deep red, and I get lost in thought for a moment before clearing my throat. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a bubble bath ?" The offer seems tempting to him as he thinks once more before talking again.

"No. Shower with Brahms," he repeats, just staring into my eyes tentatively. I nod, staring at the ground for just a moment. "Are you sure you're sure ?" He nods in response to my question, and I let out a long sigh, fidgeting with my fingers. "You need to have your clothes off to shower with Brahms..." I perk up at his claim, my face getting even redder if that's possible. He suddenly reaches his hands out to me, tugging at my shirt, trying to pull it up. I yip at the sudden action, pulling away from his grabby hands. This man clearly didn't know what manners were, considering how long he's probably been cooped up in this house with no outside contact.

I realize there was no getting out of here alive if I didn't do as asked. I slowly and hesitantly slipped my shirt and pants off, putting them to the side, leaving me in just a bra and underwear. His eyes weren't as polite as mine, wandering over my body, careful to look at every inch of me. "Those too. They're in the way," Brahms states, pointing at my undergarments. I blush at the thought of being completely naked in front of some dude I just met.

"Brahms, are you sure you can't just shower alone ?" I ask, silently hoping he'd say he could be independent. But he doesn't. "No. You're supposed to shower with Brahms," I sigh reluctantly, wrapping my hands towards the back of my body, unclipping my bra and letting it fall to the floor. I tug my underwear down my legs now, kicking it off my feet. As I stand back up, Brahms's eyes are wide and wandering over me silently, and he reaches out a hand to touch my body. But before he could touch me, I grab his wrist, pushing him away.

"No touching, Brahms," I speak clearly and sternly, and he whines at me. "And no whining. Get into the shower, Brahms," I guide him into the shower, standing by his side. I close the curtain around us, then turn on the water, letting it flow down on the both of us. I grab the shampoo, squirting some in my hand before placing the bottle down again. I motion for Brahms to move his head down, and he does as I order.

I scrub the soapy mixture into his hair, making sure none gets past his mask. He grumbles softly as I scratch his scalp, closing his eyes softly. I smile gingerly before grabbing the moveable shower head, using it to get rid of the soap from his hair, putting a hand by his hairline to make sure no soapy water rushes down his face. Once I'm finished getting the shampoo out, I put the shower head back in its holder, grabbing the conditioner and putting some in my hand.

I scrub the mixture into his hair again, humming quietly to myself. His hair was naturally very soft, and his kind gaze made me smile slightly. Suddenly, as I'm about to wash out the conditioner from his hair, I feel a set of hands place themselves on my hips. I look into Brahms's eyes, my own slightly wide.

"What are you doing ?" I ask sternly, my eyes peering into his. He whines, his green eyes staring back into mine. They were very pretty, his eyes. I could get lost in them. But I didn't. I take his hands off my hips, instead grabbing the shower head again, rinsing the mixture out of his hair again. "Now, do you think you could wash your body for me ?" He shook his head vigorously, grunting softly. I sigh, grabbing a nearby loofah in my hands as well as a bottle of body soap.

I poured the soap into the small collection of ribbony fabric, beginning to scrub the soap around his body. I hesitate at a few places, moving onto something else before finishing washing him. I grab the shower head one last time, rinsing off his body and making sure to get the soap off him. I sigh, putting the shower head back in its place, turning off the water soon after. I open up the shower curtain, reaching for one of the towels I got, bringing it over to Brahms. I slowly scrunch his hair in the soft fabric of the towel, humming softly before bringing the towel down to his body, getting rid of the water.

Once he was almost completely dry, I put the towel on the floor, picking up the other towel and using it to dry myself off. Once I finish drying off my own body, I wrap the towel around myself, picking up the old clothing in my arms. I am about to leave the room when my hand is grabbed. "Are you leaving me ?" Brahms asked, staring at me, a twinge of fear ridden in his eyes at the thought of me just leaving him. I knew I couldn't leave him, especially not now. I shake my head, a kind smile sprawled across my face.

"No, Brahms. I'm just grabbing you some new clothes to wear until these old ones are washed, okay ? I pinky promise I'm not leaving you," he sighed at my answer, his head hanging low as he pulls his hand away from my wrist, nodding a little. "Okay..." I was proud he was putting his trust in me, and I smiled kindly at him. "Thank you Brahms. You're such a good boy for me right now," He perks up at my praise, his eyes sparkling a bit.

I walk out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me as I leave. I head off to the washing room, throwing both towels and our old clothes into the machine, pouring soap in and turning it on. I walk back to my room, opening the door and looking for clothes for myself. I slip on a cute outfit, grinning softly as I glance at myself in the mirror. I then remember exactly why I was in here; for Brahms's new clothes. I grunt, realizing he probably didn't have another outfit and I would have to improvise. I reach into one of my drawers, pulling out a very oversized longsleeve shirt I like to wear to bed, at least a 5XL in mens, a pair of large sweatpants, and socks. I then also remembered I had no change of underwear for him, and I frowned, sighing a bit.

I stare off into space for a moment before collecting myself and bringing myself back to the bathroom. I knock on the door before opening it, looking at the man who had patiently waited for me. "Hey, I got you some new clothes. I didn't know where you kept your clothes, so you can borrow mine until we get you some new ones," he seemed happy at that information, grunting a bit. "Do you want me to get you dressed as well ?" I ask quietly, and he nodded at my question, softly and silently. I put the new clothes on the counter, grabbing them one by one, slipping them on him gently so that I didn't hurt him in any way. They fit him well, except the shirt was bigger on him than I expected. The sleeves fell just past his fingers and the base of the fabric went past his torso, the fabric hanging loosely past his hips. The sweats fit baggily along his legs. He pushed his socked feet into his shoes last, the one part of his outfit he did alone.

Once he was done, he stood back up, looming over me as he stared down at me. I grinned at him, then remembered he probably hadn't eaten in a bit. I take his hand softly in mine, leading him out of the bathroom, his old sneakers squeaking against the hardwood of the Heelshire manor. I brought him to the kitchen, moving the doll that resembled him out of the way and motioned for him to sit down.

He did as I gestured, slumping down into the seat that seemed tiny compared to him. I sighed, content with how well he was behaving. "Good boy, Brahms. What do you want for lunch ?" I speak softly to him, and he puts his sleeved hand in mine, holding it kindly his, staring at our connected hands. He thought for about a minute before speaking again. "You," he answers simply, his gaze still lingering at our connected hands. I blush at the request, not knowing exactly what he meant, so I decided to ask; "Brahms, what do you mean ?"

"I mean you," he was very clear with his tone as he got up on his feet swiftly, looming over me once more. He knew what he meant, and what he wanted from me. I swallow hard on some air caught in my throat. Before I could even reply, he grabbed my wrist, starting to lead me down the hallway and to one of the rooms, almost dragging me at this point. This was all moving so fast. But somehow, I couldn't find myself complaining in the slightest. He pulled me to my room, throwing me on the bed as he got on top of me, pinning me to the mattress. I knew I couldn't escape now, so there wasn't any point in trying. I just lie there in the middle of the mattress, Brahms staring down at me hungrily, his breathing heavy.

His eyes fixed on mine, his face slowly leans into my own. My hands tremble, just as my legs do. I stare right into his eyes, his peering in mine. We were like this for a good 30 seconds, just in eachothers personal space and staring at each other. A stern "Mine," is all he spoke before pushing the porcelan lips of his mask into my face, colliding our lips together. I let out a yip at the sudden coldness on my lips, but didn't pull away. No, I couldn't, even if I wanted to. Which I did. I just kiss back softly, letting out a small groan as I close my eyes and push my lips farther into his. One of his hands is pulled off the bed, it now being placed on my side. His large hand trails up my body, gaining a whimper out of me as he continues to kiss me with raw passion. As his hand goes up my body, it pulls up my shirt, the fabric rolling up along my belly.

I plant my hands on Brahms's broud chest to push the large man off of me, staring into his pure green eyes as he gives me a confused gaze. "Brahms, what do you think you are you doing ?" I question, pursing my lips into a line. He doesn't respond, only giving a small grunt as an answer. His hand only continues its arrival at my chest, whining as he realizes I have a bra on. He tugs at the fabric, clearly wanting it off. I let out a sigh, staring into his eyes. "Brahms, you're being naughty. We can't be doing this," I state, and his eyes widen at being called out for his pushy behavior.

"Brahms is not !" He pushes in his childish voice, grumbling softly in a bratty way. "Brahms wants you..." He whispers, his eyes trained on mine. He tries to lean into me once more, but my hands keep him pressed away. "No, Brahms," he tugged at my bra once more, whimpering softly. My words fell to deaf ears as he thinks for a moment, I could see the thought process going through his head before he speaks again. "If I make you feel good, you won't leave..." He speaks so quietly and softly to me, just staring into my eyes. I didn't know what he meant by what he said, but before I could say anything, he pulls the hand that was toying with my bra away to grab one of my hands and guiding it up to put my hand onto my eyes, closing and covering them.

"Don't look... Please..." He leaves my hand on my face, and I hear the sound of elastic snapping back into place. Did he just... take off his mask ? "Promise Brahms you won't look," he spoke once more, waiting patiently for me to reply. "I promise," I whisper, swearing a promise to him. I hear him grunt, and I'm now completely blind to whatever he may do. I don't know where he is, not until I feel a pair of lips connect with the skin of my neck. I let out a shaky breath, shuddering at the sudden touch. My neck was one of my weak spots, so this caught me off guard.

He leaves sloppy kisses along my neck, and I let out small groans and whimpers. I let out a stifled breath followed by a moan as he leaves a small bite on my skin. I knew it would leave a mark later, but frankly I didn't care. My hand that wasn't covering my eyes went up to Brahms's curly, dark hair, tostling it around with my fingers. It was quite soft now that it was dry, letting out a slight hum of satisfaction as I comb my fingers through his hair some more. He lets out a small groan, leaving one final kiss on my neck before pulling away. I let out a soft whimper, already missing his touch, yet I keep my eyes shut tight as I promised.

I shudder as I feel a kiss being left on my stomach, letting out a soft grunt. "Brahms..." I mutter breathlessly, my hand still in his hair. He leaves another kiss on my tummy. Then another. Then another. Then he keeps trailing his lips farther down until hes at the hem of my pants. He doesn't even hesitate, slipping his fingers past my underwear and pulling both my pants and underwear down at the same time. He tugs them off my feet and throws them aside, leaving my lower half bare.

He spreads my legs right apart, I couldn't see his hungry stare. His hand glides down my thigh, his thumb brushing over my slit, gaining a soft moan from my other end. Without warning, he presses his mouth against me, his tongue meeting my clit in a passionate dance. I groan, long and hard. I grip at his hair while his tongue works its magic, licking and sucking on my clit. He seems to know what he's doing, even though he's probably not even done this before. Though I wasn't complaining. His tongue occasionally brushes past my slit, gaining another groan from my end. I tug his hair, pushing his face even more into me, grabbing a soft moan from him.

My legs quiver with glee, my hips bucking into his face. My body twitches, hot breaths pouring out of my mouth as I mumble soft praises for Brahms. I can already feel myself growing close, my eyes locked shut as my other hand lifts up to grapple my own hair. I let out a muffled groan, my teeth gritted as my back arches.

I'm so close, his tongue only moving faster as he senses how high I was. I let out a few more shaky breaths, each one's pitch getting higher before I let out one final, long moan, hitting my orgasm. My hips buck and my legs clamp around Brahms's head, my hand grips his hair. I cum for a little over 5 seconds, letting out gutteral, staggered moans. Brahms quickly laps up all the cum from my crotch, letting out soft grunts. I finally calm down from my climax, huffing heavily, a big grin sprawled across my face as my back falls against the mattress once more. I'm about to open my eyes when I remember my promise. My legs fall to the side, softening my grip on Brahms's hair. My other hand flops down to the bed, just feeling Brahms still soft, slow licks on my womanhood. I feel him pull away, his thumb brushing my slick.

"Was Brahms a good boy ?" He asks after a small moment, pressing his thumb to my clit, pulling a quiet moan out of me. My eyes stay shut for him, but I respond softly, a big grin on my face. "Yes. A very good boy, indeed," I whisper out to him, my fingers comb through his hair ever so softly. I feel him leave a kiss on my clit, sending a shiver up my spine before he crawls back on top of me, the bed sinking under his weight. I feel his hands leave the bed for a moment, then the sound of elastic slapping again.

"You can look now..." He mutters, and I do as he said, opening my eyes softly to be met with the same mask and true green saucers for eyes. My hands slink up his neck, brushing over and toying with his hair as I stare deeply and intently into his eyes. I just hold him close, close to my body and soul. he presses the lips of the mask into mine once more, and I let out a needy sigh into his porcelan lips. This was all I needed from then on. Just him and his closeness. I was content, and never wanted this moment to end. But of course, this wasn't the end of the night, but I was completely oblivious to the fact. I just kissed the big himbo on top of me, and I was happy with that.

THANK YOU FOR READING !!

I really hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. I spent like, I dunno, 3 days on it ? So I hope I did well on this 😁 Alright !! See yall later 🔥🔥🔥

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